#Is it too late to move to a place without superheroes?

[ladydisasterinthemaking]

Not my circus, not my monkeys.

Danny couldn’t believe it. He graduated high school with better grades than he imagined. Everything was also falling into place. His parents had accepted him as a halfa, and nothing bad has happened for almost a year now.

Well, he graduated, yes, but his grades weren’t on his sister’s level. Still, it was something he was proud of. Between making sure that Amity Park is safe from ghosts, going to Clockwork every now and then, and making sure he doesn’t fail at any of his classes, the road to a diploma was a hard one. (Although for some reason, the number of ghost attacks had gradually decreased until his usual rogues stopped attacking. They still visit Amity Park, but only to talk, hang out, or spar with him. It was strange at first, but he eventually got used to it.)

And now, in a few weeks, he is officially moving to Metropolis for college to become an engineer. It wasn’t what his younger self wanted, what with wanting to be an astronaut (not that he could be one, after what happened to him in the lab), but it was something more than what he thought he could ever accomplish.

(The deal-breaker was his parent's promise to protect Amity Park. He would have stayed and enrolled at Amity Community College, but his parents told him to live his life to the fullest.)

To celebrate their milestones together, Danny, Sam, and Tucker, together with Jazz as their chaperone for the summer, have decided to go wander around Metropolis and its neighboring cities as 'tourists' (Tucker and Sam had decided to go to Metropolis University, too, with the former studying Computer Science while the latter would take Journalism), partly because they will spend the rest of their college years in the city, and partly because compared to the other cities, Metropolis was safer because of Superman.

That means they can go anywhere and not fight.

'Not my circus, not my monkeys', as the saying goes.

Then Lex Luthor and Superman decided to duke it out in front of the Daily Planet, while the four of them were caught in a bank robbery.

The large LED TV inside the bank showcased the man of steel fighting the billionaire genius as the robbers scare everyone into submission with their guns.

The four of them looked at the LED TV, then at the robbers, and came to a decision.

-

Superman was in the middle of fighting Luthor when he heard the cries of various civilians, and a couple of criminals demanding a bank to let them in their vaults.

Then he heard gunshots.

Fearing for the worst, he quickly defeated Lex, told the cops to ship him back to prison, and flew to the bank, just to see a floating white-haired meta and a teenage girl conjuring plants tying up and freezing the robbers. In the corner was another boy typing on a PDA, and a red-headed girl comforting the other people in the bank.

The four people in question froze upon noticing Superman.

Two large vines immediately snatched the redhead and the other boy, while the white-haired meta phased them down the bank's floor.

So much for the saying, 'Not my circus, not my monkeys'. 

 - 

(This is terribly written. I haven’t done my research. Sorry for the quality of this short fic.)

[venus-haze]

She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.

Note: Female (blink and you’ll miss it implied plus size) reader, but no other descriptors are used. This fic is so short because it’s pretty much PWP. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Dressing room sex, mirrors, breeding kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, implied baby trapping. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Chattering from the packed high school auditorium somehow seeped through the walls. The rural town that was the latest stop in Soldier Boy’s war bond drive had shown up en masse out of patriotism or sheer curiosity. Usually both. Electricity was always in the air before the show in small towns. Some of them didn’t even have movie theaters. 

You and the other dancers on the tour had set up camp in one of the bigger classrooms, using it to get ready in since it was near one of the bathrooms. Dresses, sequins, and makeup scattered about the room, making the place of learning look like a department store had exploded inside. You’d been helping another girl with the curlers in her hair until a masculine voice called out your name from the doorway.

“Soldier Boy wants to see you in his dressing room.”

You nodded, giving an apologetic look to your colleague, who waved you off. It wasn’t unusual for Soldier Boy to call on one of you to help him “warm up” before the shows. Lately, however, he’d almost exclusively been asking for you, to the detriment of your jaw. 

Grabbing a nearby tube of red lipstick, you hastily applied it in the illuminated mirror in front of you. The lipstick residue soon adorned a tissue that you discarded, and you used your fingertips to gently massage the muscles in your face in preparation for taking him again. You hoped you’d at least get to come this time.

A flyer had gotten you to this point, stark white with patriotic motifs, pinned to a board in the nightclub you had been working in prior to getting the gig. Uncle Sam declared, “Ladies, you can serve your country too!” You figured why not, there was a war on, and if you could do something to help, you might as well. 

Your qualifications led you to your local USO office, where you were handed a star-spangled outfit and joined a gaggle of other girls to be the supporting act on Soldier Boy’s war bonds tour across the country. At times, you felt silly, kicking and shimmying to audiences who were clearly only putting up with the opener just to catch a glimpse at the world’s first superhero. A man larger than life in every sense of the word, as you and your fellow dancers on the tour would learn.

Wandering the hallway, you checked each door for an indication of which commandeered classroom was his. Not one for subtlety, his dressing rooms always had ‘SOLDIER BOY’ printed in large letters, declaring his presence. You found the sign toward the end of the hall, giving a smile to the usual group of people who congregated around him, assistants and handlers to keep him on schedule.

You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” you asked when he opened the door. 

He smiled, putting his hand on your lower back as he ushered you inside. “Sure did, sweetheart.”

His dressing room always betrayed his vices—alcohol, drugs, porno mags. It didn’t faze you anymore, not like the first time he asked for you, a stuttering mess in his presence. Back then, you had to take a shot with him to settle your nerves enough to blow him without feeling too self-conscious. Now, it was routine. You moved to get on your knees, but he stopped you, to your confusion. 

Instead, he disarmed you with a passionate kiss that nearly knocked you over. You steadied yourself on his strong arms that had made their home near your hips. He squeezed them, pulling you closer so your body was flush against his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

You let him take the lead, he always did—strong, masculine, hard-working. Wasn’t America lucky its hero was easy on the eyes too? Except he had a temper, a mean streak that could go for miles. Not that you’d ever been on the receiving end of it. No, for all his faults, you seemed to get the best of Soldier Boy.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.

“You have?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re—“ he paused, searching for the word he wanted to use, “special to me.”

You weren’t sure why he was laying it on so thick. It wasn’t your first rodeo with him. “Special?”

“‘Course you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren’t,” he said. “I wanna try something different today, alright, doll?”

“Alright,” you agreed softly.

He smiled. “That’s my girl.”

Your body came alive at his praise, and you pressed your lips to his for another kiss. He guided your body backward until you bumped into the vanity. Parting his lips from yours, he turned you around, bending you over it so you were face to face with yourself in the mirror. 

You looked at him from the reflection, brows furrowed as you wondered what he was doing. 

He leaned down, voice husky in your ear as he growled, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you come.”

Your eyes widened, and you grabbed either side of the vanity in preparation, to his amusement. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he pushed up your shimmery skirt, exposing your red, satin panties, specially made to be on display. Soon, your panties were around your heeled feet, one of his hands reaching to play with your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts through your top.

“We look good together, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, intense gaze studying your reactions.

“Y-Yes,” you moaned, trying to keep your eyes open. 

He always wanted you to look at him. From your knees when you were sucking him off, when he’d be standing on the side of the stage during your act, in his hotel rooms when he couldn’t find local girls to fuck around with. This instance was different, though, able to really see him, and yourself. You didn’t find your glassy gaze or parted lips particularly flattering, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.

His fingers had already brought you close to climax, and you whined when he pulled them away from you for a moment to free his hard cock from his pants. You shuddered, feeling it on your skin before he guided it in your pussy. Your hands curled around the vanity you were bracing yourself on. You weren’t sure if you’d get used to how his cock seemed to split you apart every time.

One of his arms wrapped just below your chest to hold you up, as you struggled to support yourself when he started pounding into you. Your pussy was already wet and pliant for him, and you'd be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds if you weren't so focused on getting off when he had brought you so close to the edge already.

You were your own voyeur, your brain feeling like it was going to melt, watching yourself getting fucked by him. His superhuman strength always caught you off guard, from the first time he shocked you by lifting you above his head on stage for a roaring crowd to the way he could make your body feel—and look—like you were little more than a ragdoll. 

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunted as he thrust into you, items falling from the vanity and onto the floor at the force he used to fuck you. “Want you up on that stage with my cum leaking out every time you kick up those legs—fuck—you’re mine.”

Your pussy clenched around him at the vulgar image he conjured up. “Yours daddy.”

His voice was strained, words slurring together. He was close. “‘S right, baby. Keep fuckin’ you ‘till you make me one. You like takin’ daddy’s dick, don’t you?”

You had to force the short affirmation out of your mouth, pleasure’s chokehold creeping up on you. That wasn’t enough for him or his ego.

“I wanna hear you say it.”

“I love taking—oh fuck—taking your dick, daddy.”

He came, hard and sloppy as your pussy milked his cock. You cried out, feeling so full it almost started to hurt. Something in you finally snapped, releasing the pain and pressure as you rode out your orgasm on his softening cock. Your arms gave out from under you so that it was just his strength holding you up. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go back to having sex with men who weren’t well-endowed superheroes. Go back to faking it, you supposed.

Your throat was sore. You hadn’t paid attention to how loud you were being. Everyone outside the room must’ve known what was happening if they didn’t have an idea when you first showed up looking for him. 

Soldier Boy pulled himself out of you, and you could hear fabric rustling and the sound of his zipper again. You didn’t bother trying to stand up, still needing time to catch your breath. 

He used his fingers to swipe up some of his cum that had begun dripping out of you, causing you to gasp at the slight sensation of them brushing against your pussy. You whimpered when he pushed his index and middle fingers inside you, already aching from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you. 

“I—I can’t—“

‘I can’t get pregnant and ruin my career,’ you wanted to say, but all that came from your lips was a desperate, animalistic moan.

“I got you, baby,” Soldier Boy whispered, voice low and husky in your ear. “Give me one more so it sticks.”

You choked on air as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing circles in the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers pushed deeper, and your hips bucked at the overstimulation, your spent pussy reactively pulsing around his cum-slicked fingers that curled inside you.

The woman staring back at you in the mirror was a mess with her mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick. You were utterly unrecognizable as you came again, harder on his fingers this time, crying out as you gripped the edge of the vanity, threatening to break one of your manicured nails. 

“Good girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your cheek, as you came down from your second orgasm, pulling his hand from between your legs. “You alright?”

“I think so,” you breathed. “Jesus Christ.”

Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and you wondered how the hell you were going to be able to dance in less than half an hour. You’d have to reapply all of your makeup too.

He turned you around, looking at you with a brief fondness before kissing your lips, soft and quick. 

“I need to fix my face,” you breathed.

He smiled. “Why? You look great.” 

You laughed softly as he gave you space. You pulled up your panties from around your ankles, knowing his cum would stain them by the time you made it back to the dancers’ makeshift dressing room. Taking some of the tissues from the box on top of the vanity, you began wiping your ruined makeup from your face. He stared at you in silence from the spot he’d taken on the loveseat that’d been brought in for him.

“I think I’d be a good father. Better than my old man,” he said finally.

You paused, looking at him from the mirror, giving him a sardonic smile. “I don’t see you as the settling down type.”

“Maybe I just need a woman worth coming home to.”

“Maybe,” you echoed.

“C’mere.”

You obliged, joining him on the loveseat. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. You let yourself bask in the intimacy.

“Things aren’t always gonna be like this,” he said. “Once the war’s over, what’re you gonna do? Go back to dancing in nightclubs?”

“Why not?”

His jaw clenched, cheek twitching as he pulled his gaze from you. “I don’t want you doing this for anyone but me.”

This could have been any number of things, dancing, fucking, being at his beck and call. Knowing him, he meant all of it.

“Ben,” you said, grabbing his attention, “then you have to tell me what you do want.”

“I want you. I want the white picket fence, kids running around the yard with the dog,” he said, the intensity in his voice wrapping tendrils around your mind, pulling you into the world he was describing. “I want dinner to burn ‘cause I was busy putting another baby in you when I got home.”

“Oh,” you whispered.

A voice through the door startled you. “Soldier Boy, the mayor’s here to see you!” 

“Think about it,” Soldier Boy said, getting up from the loveseat to grab his helmet and shield. 

The door shut behind him, leaving you to agonize over the future he presented to you. Part of you wondered if you’d really have a choice.

[venusstorm]

Backflips

Bucky finds your awkwardness adorable.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, flirting

w/c: 700 | masterlist |

﹤୨♡୧﹥

Your eyebrows furrow in concern as Bucky attempts to bend his dislocated shoulder back in place. He releases a loud grunt as it pops, the sound making you wince and hastily backpedal.

"Told you to stop falling off of shit!" Sam shouts, jokingly.

"Gotta get you in a dance class or something to work on coordination because your body does not like you."

Bucky rolls his eyes as Sam bursts into a fit of laughter. "This is how you look," he begins.

A smile grows on your face as Sam mimics Bucky's bird-like movements, which is slightly ironic because he's the same person who wore a literal bird as his superhero suit.

Sam dramatically tumbles to the ground as Bucky watches, mumbling something underneath his breath before preparing to turn around and leave the room entirely. He almost makes it too, well…until Sam physically drags him back in.

"Ahhh don't be so cranky Barnes. Look, even Y/N’s laughing."

Your small smile falls quickly. "Nope. Leave me outta this."

“Don’t act like you didn’t boomerang your shield back into your nose the other day,” Bucky quips.

“Touché,” Sam grins. “Fair point. I’ll enroll us both in a ballet class next week.”

“Sam! Bucky grunts, “please don’t.”

Sam begins to walk backward, heading towards the door. “Too late. You’ve already convinced me!”

“Goodbye Y/N, goodbye Buckkk. Don't fall off the couch or anything while I'm gone."

You wave goodbye to Sam who was stifling a sea of laughter as he shuts the door.

Turning to Bucky, your eyes broaden at the sight of his bruised skin. You knew the serum meant it looked worse than it probably felt but still your heart tugged at the sight. "Does it hurt?" You ask softly.

He shrugs. "I've had worse."

You got up anyway, adamant about helping him in any way possible. You placed your hands around his shoulders, pressing your palms gently against his skin before rubbing softly.

"This okay, Buck?" You inquire. He nods, his eyes closing shut as your soft hands dance around his shoulder.

The up-close view of his back left you stunned. The intricate outlines of his muscles protruded without him even moving. You could spend hours exploring, touching him in hopes that he'd finally wrap you into a warm hug just like you've always wanted.

"Fuck, you're pretty," you murmur underneath your breath. It was hardly a whisper, so faint that you hadn't realized you said it aloud.

But Bucky did.

Curse superhuman abilities.

His eyes flicker open as a smirk forms on his lips. "What was that?" He questions.

"Oh! I said Fun. Yep. Fun. This is soooo fun."

Bucky chuckles, "I'm glad my misery's fun for you."

Immediately your smile drops. "Oh my god, Buck. I didn't mean it like that, I'm so sorry." Your hands fall to your side, your stomach doing backflips as he turns around to meet your eyes.

“That’s not actually what I said,” you whisper, fiddling with your fingers nervously.

He grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers in between yours. “Yea?” he smiles. “And what exactly did you say, sweetheart?”

The corner of your lips upturned from hearing the pet name, the backflips in your stomach returning for an encore.

“I said...uhm. I said nothing. Yea.” You speak quickly, unsure of yourself as he watches you squirm.

You always became a mess around Bucky. His presence was intoxicating and quickly your words would become jumbled and mind hazy with adoration. You don’t even realize that you’re squeezing his hand a bit too hard but nothing that he can’t handle.

He rubs your hands softly, drawing them against his chest in preparation for what he wants to do next.

You yelp as he drags you down into his lap, his burly arms wrapping around your waist. His scent overwhelms you and naturally you sink into him, a deep sigh escaping your lips as you finally feel the warm hug you’ve both been seeking.

He smiles as you rest your head on his chest, kissing your temple gently before peppering kisses across your nose.

"I think you're very pretty too,” he murmurs.

[raineandsky]

#84

There’s been a new series of attacks on the city. Nothing that anyone can blame on current villains, no—this is the work of someone new. Someone crueller than the rest.

The hero can’t catch them. No one knows why. The hero always shrugs and promises to try harder when people ask. No one knows. No one can know.

A building blows up, the hero gets called in, she’s always too late. The superhero is slowly losing patience, but appearances matter—the hero always throws them her best winning smile with a pledge to bring the fist of justice down on the vigilante, and her word on it seems to calm them down a little.

Easy. Keep up appearances. Stay alert. Don’t get caught.

This is the hero’s mantra that she always repeats to herself, minutes before she gets her inevitable call to the crime scene. 

Keep up appearances. With a flick of her wrist a match lights, pushing the gloom back slightly. Stay alert. She carefully holds it to a long fuse at her feet. Don’t get caught. The light sparks, and the hero starts to make her getaway before the bomb sets off and the building collapses on her. She sets her stopwatch—three minutes. Okay.

Across the hall. Downstairs. To the main door and out—

“Fancy seeing you here.”

The hero whips back, with barely contained horror, to face the villain, leaning against a doorframe and smirking at the hero like he knows something. The hero’s insides twist nervously at the expression. “Didn’t take you for a derelict building kind of gal,” he continues casually.

“All the city is under my watch,” she snaps a little too quickly. “Derelict buildings are in my care, too, just as much as the populated ones are.”

The hero can hear the hissing of the fuse upstairs, even from here. The villain can too, from the way he tilts his head thoughtfully. Or maybe she’s imagining things and he can’t hear a thing.

She moves to get past the villain. He leans across the doorway as if that can truly stop her. It wouldn’t, but catching the villain in an about-to-be-blown-up building was not part of the plan. She fixes him with a hard glare instead. “I suggest you move,” she spits, but the villain only laughs.

“What, no time for a dance with your favourite criminal?”

He holds his hands out to her like he’s serious but she bats him away. “Leave, [Villain],” she demands, praying it sounds more like a command than a warning. “You shouldn’t be here.”

She shoves past him and he thankfully moves this time, stumbling back into the doorframe as she skirts around him. He follows her as she lets herself out the main door, and she’s distantly thankful that he’s so persistent. 

“And you should?” the villain snaps harshly. “The agency sends its finest out to wander about buildings five seconds from collapsing?”

The hero would laugh at the irony if she wasn’t so worried about how close they are to the door and how short that fuse surely is by now. She turns to him and hopes her usual heroic smugness is sitting in its place.

“If you want to dance,” she says, quicker than can be played off as smooth, “we can do it where everyone can watch.”

She turns to run but the villain catches her arm, uncharacteristic concern etched into this expression. “What’s going on with you?” he asks softly. “You’re acting weird.”

Fuck, he knows. He’s going to carefully pry a confession out of her like he’s the good guy. Okay, I’m the big scary villain everyone’s looking for! I’m the one bringing the city to its knees! Then the villain will arrest her or some shit. He’s an undercover hero. He’s– he’s going to tell the superhero, her life is over. He knows, he knows he knows he knows—

The hero’s stopwatch beeps cheerfully from her pocket, and before she can think what she’s doing she tackles the villain to the floor.

Whatever noise of surprise the villain made at the contact is lost to the deafening boom of the bomb erupting, gutting the building without a care. She can’t see it—doesn’t want to, not really—but the debris scatters across the street like a taste of the carnage behind her. She can see some of the disaster in the reflection of the villain’s widened, startled eyes—fire, smoke, and merciless, cold-hearted destruction.

The villain finally manages to tear his gaze from the mutilated remains of the building and back to the hero. She can’t meet his eye. He knows. There’s no doubt he does. She stares at where concrete is jabbing into her palms instead.

“Did you just save my life?“ His question almost sounds offended. The hero almost laughs at the unexpectedness of it.

“You’re welcome.”

His gaze flits back to the building crumbling over the hero’s shoulder. “You—” His voice catches on nerves. She’s never seen him actually scared of her before. “You did that. You’ve done all of them.”

No point in lying anymore. “I have to do a lot to get the agency’s attention nowadays.”

Something pulls at the corner of the villain’s lips, and it takes her a moment to realise that it’s a smile. Unabashed, delighted, like he’s just stumbled across a pile of gold.

“You’re on the wrong team,” he says. “There’s a place for someone like you with us.”

And, to be honest, the hero knows he’s right.

[saiidahyunie]

goodnight n go

kim dahyun x reader 

synopsis: fulfilling your sleepy needs, but the nighttime routine comes first.

wc: 0.8k

♫₊˚.🎧

a/n: dahyun my love my love my love

—

the soft sound of the running water from your bathroom sink is all that’s heard as it’s overpowering the song that you were playing while in the shower just a few minutes ago. 

it had been a long day of constantly moving around the office. getting files to their respective owners, relaying messages about project due dates, and going for a last minute lunch run with your co-workers jake and hoshi. you didn’t mind the new things that your job had to bring, in fact, you were pretty happy that you were able to do these tasks without having to sit in a small cubicle for nearly six to seven hours a day.

since it was already getting late and you insisted on cleaning up after your dinner with dahyun, all that really mattered was just getting to bed with your lovely girlfriend and sleeping in late the next morning.

as you were finishing up washing your face from the skincare regimen, you felt a pair of small arms hooking behind you, smiling as you hear a small laugh followed by a string of kisses behind your right shoulder. 

“you’re gonna get your headphones wet.” you softly say, turning around see dahyun jam out in a little dance, clearly lost in the music.

“what did you say?” dahyun questions, pointing to her airpod maxes as she pumps her fist up in the air. 

you laugh as you grab both of her shoulders to make her stay in place, pulling the headphones off of her instantly pulling off the music. dahyun pouts a bit as you held the headphones still, placing it around her neck. 

“i said you’re gonna get your headphones wet.” you repeat again as dahyun scrunches her face at you.

“i know, i’m just taking a little break.” 

“you doodling away on the ipad again?” 

dahyun nods her head, “yep.” 

“you’re like a little kid.” 

she then slaps your arm, unamused at your quip as you try to hold your laugh in.

“that wasn’t funny!” dahyun exclaimed as you pulled her in for a hug, comforting her as she inhales the cherry blossom scent of your body wash that she loves on you whenever you shower, relaxing as the embrace of your arms draws out a yawn from her. 

“i know, i’m just messing with you, that's all.” 

dahyun looks up at you, cupping your face as she leans up to press her lips on yours. your arms slotting on the small of her back as her hands shift down, clinging onto your neck before pulling away. she stares with stars in her eyes as if she’s amazed like a kid meeting their superhero for the first time.

before you could get lost in those boundless eyes, you flash a pouted smile as you poke her nose with yours, before cradling her head in another hug, smelling the lavender scent of shampoo that she used as you lightly bury your face in her hair. 

“you almost done?” she asks you as you brush her back. 

“yeah, just mouthwash and i’ll head over there.” 

“okay.” dahyun nods, “don’t keep me waiting.” 

you laugh again, watching her walking back to the bed, headphones in ears again as she bops to the song that was previously playing.

—

not too long after, you followed suit as you shuffled to the other side that wasn’t occupied by dahyun, who was still doodling away as you lifted the magenta blanket over you, sliding over right next to her. your body with exhausted bones and muscles finally earning their rest as you snake an arm over dahyun’s waist, smushing your face against the pillow as you let your feet stretch out a bit before relaxing. 

“someone’s tired.” 

a mumble could only be heard from you as dahyun chuckles at your cozy state. she takes off her headphones and places her ipad on the nightstand, adjusting herself down as she wraps her arms around your head and shoulders, scratching the bottom portion of your scalp on top of the nape of your neck. this might urge you to literally turn into liquid that way dahyun was pampering you, sighing out as you feel the sleepiness slowly start to creep in. 

“i wanna be like this forever.” you say through the covers. “can i be your marshmallow?” 

dahyun snickers at your question as she holds you a little more tightly, “you’re so cute when you’re like this.” 

you shift your head a little bit to get more oxygen easier, your breath just under her chin as she continues to rub your shoulders to ease you more into your rest. 

“i wonder what you're gonna dream about this time.” dahyun says. you inhale sharply as your clutch onto her waist under the covers, pulling her closer as your leg intertwines with hers. 

“maybe something like ponyo, i like being a fish.” you mutter as dahyun stifles a laugh with her nose, “you want to be a fish?” 

“mhm. so nice.” you reply as dahyun kisses your forehead while you adjust yourself one last time before departing to dreamland. 

“sweet dreams baby, i love you.” dahyun whispers softly.

“love you more.” you mutter tiredly as both of you drift swiftly off to sleep. 

[lovelytsunoda]

teenage dream // george russell

summary: george goes all out when he finds out his girlfriend missed out on the experience of having a teenage romance.

pairing: george russell x female reader

warnings: mentions of sex & suggestive content, inexperienced reader. geochalex being chaotic.

authors note: welcome to the katy perry throwback series! lately I’ve been shockingly into her first two albums so here I give you a series for basically anybody I usually write for that wasn’t covered by the one direction series.

this one is so personal to me because I also missed out on having a teenage romance so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do.

“so, george, how’s y/n?”

the mercedes driver rolled his eyes, sticking his middle finger up at the computer screen even though he knew alex couldn’t see, the screen filled with the latest game of apex legends that he and his closest friends were playing to waste the night from their respective parts of europe.

“she’s great, we’re great.”

he could practically hear charles rolling his eyes. “you’ve been acting strange for the past week and a bit, something is wrong mate.”

“nothing is wrong. in fact, since she moved in with me, I think our relationship has gotten stronger.”

“have you guys…” alex trailed off before clearing his throat “you know, have you guys had sex yet?”

“I don’t understand how that’s any of your business, alexander.” george huffed, leaning back in his gaming chair.

but the truth was, he hadn’t slept with y/n yet, and it was starting to make him nervous, wondering if he was doing something wrong.

she was so shy and quiet that it had taken the brit two months just to make sure that kissing her wouldn’t scare y/n off.

they’d been together for just under a year, and the farthest they had gotten to having intercourse was y/n letting george go down on her.

he had never even seen her without a shirt on.

“It’s my business because it’s weighing on your mind and it’s bothering you. we just want to help you.”

“well, no. we haven’t.” george sighed, pausing the game and running his hands over his face. “I know she’s shy, and she’s nervous, but she means so much to me and it’s killing me to think that I might not be making her comfortable enough for her to let me see her like that, or maybe she feels like she can’t talk to me about it-“

“george.” charles cut him off. “I know you want to avoid this conversation, but I think you need to talk to her about this if it’s bothering you so much.”

“I know, I just-“

“georgie? it’s late, baby. come to bed.”

george smiled, turning slowly in his chair, eyes lighting up when he saw y/n standing in the doorway. the love of his life was dressed in her favourite short-sleeved flannel pajama set: white with soft pink hydrangea flowers dotting the fabric.

“yeah, baby, I’ll be up in a second.”

“is that y/n?” alex shouted, his voice carrying through the headphones george was wearing. “hi y/n!”

“is that alex? can i say hello?” y/n smiled, reaching out a hand for the headphones.

george passed them to her, and she slipped them over her head. “hi alex, hi charles.”

“hi y/n!” both drivers chorused.

“lily wants to know how book club went? she wants to know what book to go out and buy next.” alex starting talking, charles quick to talk over him.

“I think george needs some attention, hes been spending too much time moping lately.” charles interjected. “he sounds like a man who needs his dick suck-“

“okay, charles, that’s enough,” george cut the monegasque off mid sentence, taking the headphones back. “good night, jackasses. I’ll call you in the morning.”

half an hour later, y/n was curled up in bed with a copy of lucy foleys ‘the guest list’, smelling like bath and body works and looking stunning, reading glasses perched on her nose.

george slipped into bed next to her, her eyes instantly drawn to the tight cotton shirt he was wearing, the hen tucked loosely into his flannel pajama pants with the different marvel superheroes on them. she bookmarked her page, placing the paperback on her nightstand before leaning over and quickly pressing a kiss to george’s lips.

“good night, gorgeous.” she said softly, slipping underneath the covers and curling into georges side.

george hesitated. “actually, honey bear, there’s something i wanted to talk to you about.”

a worried expression formed on y/n’s face, a bad feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

“baby, what’s wrong?”

“it’s nothing bad, don’t be scared. I just, I was thinking earlier that we’ve been together a year now, and I’ve never seen you take your shirt off, and we’ve never really been intimate in the sense that we haven’t….”

“we haven’t fucked yet, right.” y/n said softly, lacing her fingers with his. “georgie, I’ve never told you this, but you’re my first everything. I never had the experiences that most people my age have, I never had a high school love, never had a one night stand at a college party. I’d never even been kissed before you.”

george felt like an asshole. “honey bear, I’m so sorry, I had no idea. please don’t feel like I’m pressuring you. we can take this at your own pace, whenever you feel ready, I’m be right here. I love you, angel.”

“I love you too.”

as george fell asleep that night with y/n in his arms, all he could think about was all the experiences that y/n must have missed out on.

and what he could do to make them all up to her.

———————————

you think I’m pretty, without any makeup on

y/n stood in the middle in the ensuite bathroom, dragging a plastic brush through her hair as she stared at her plain, delicate face in the mirror, an unopened tube of mascara lying on the countertop as george came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“you look beautiful, honey bear.” the mercedes’ driver cooed, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck, twisting the urge to slide his hands up the front of her white blouse.

he would wait for her to tell him when she was ready.

“thanks, babe.” she smiled softly, and it set butterflies loose in the drivers stomach.

she truly was perfect.

as y/n reached for the mascara tube, george slapped her hand away. “you don’t need that. you’re stunning without any makeup whatsoever.”

———————————

now every februrary you’ll be my valentine

it was late when she got home, and the large house, the house that usually felt somewhat less cavernous and wide when her boyfriend was around, felt empty like it had ever since george had left for bahrain. she had gone with him to the airport in gatwick and had cried before reluctantly letting him go with the rest of the mercedes team.

being a working woman and dating a man with a schedule as complicated as George’s wasn’t always easy, but she kept saying she could handle it.

she leaned over the post box to check for mail, her foot caught the edge of something soft.

she looked down, her heart filling with love as she looked at the massive bouquet of roses sitting on the front stoop, an envelope tacked to the front.

“oh, georgie.” she said to herself with a smile, struggling to hold the bouquet and get the door open at the same time.

after getting herself settled inside the house, and placing the roses in a vase on the kitchen table, she opened the card.

hope you had a good day at work, my love. miss you lots already. it’s way too hot here, and this is supposed to still be winter weather. hope you’re keeping warm!

love you, my valentine.

- george

with a giggle, she pulled out her phone to video call george and thank him in person. because of time zones, she wasn’t sure if george would even still be awake.

“george’s phone.”

“hi, toto.” y/n grinned, waving at the austrian.

george’s team principal had quickly become a very important person in the young couples lives, and whenever y/n needed to talk to someone who knew what dating a driver was like, and the mental toll that the constant weekends away that she couldn’t follow her lover for was pressing in on her, she found comfort in talking to totos wife susie.

“ah, y/n! you look well! george just came back from a meeting with his strategist, let me go find him for you.”

“thanks, toto. tell susie I miss her, we should get coffee next time she’s in london.”

moments later, george was on the phone, his smiling face and wide blue eyes filling the camera.

“hi honey bear! did you get the flowers?”

y/n giggled. “of course I got the flowers! babe, valentines day was weeks ago. you didn’t need to get me more roses. carnations would have done just fine.”

“but you’re my valentine all year round, darling.” george continued, a wide, lovesick smile on his face that made her heart swell.

“I love you, you big idiot.”

“I’m offended.” george joked, pretending to be upset at the jibe. “I love you too, baby. I’ll be home real soon, and I can’t wait to have you with me in australia.”

———————————

let’s go all the way tonight, no regrets, just love

“he crosses the line, and george russell is your pole sitter this hungarian grand prix !!”

y/n was ecstatic, jumping up and down excitedly in the lounge area of the garage, bright green mercedes headphones over her ears. she was beyond proud, watching the green and silver car back into the garage, the engineers, mechanics and strategists getting to their feet and cheering for the driver as he stepped out of the car.

y/n took off her headphones, hanging them over the monitor before she ran over to her boyfriend, her entire body seized with want as george ran his fingers through his hair, race suit tied low around his hips, abs straining against the fireproofs he wore underneath.

“I’m so proud of you!” she gushed, throwing her arms around george as he picked her up, spinning around in a few quick circles before he placed her back on the ground, kissing her hard and deep.

“we should celebrate.” george said gleefully, still trying to catch his breath. “order room service, watch an absurd comedy movie, maybe something with zombies? and then we’ll cuddle. lots and lots of cuddles, I think.”

that was what sealed the deal for y/n. she had already decided that hungary was going to be the weekend. the weekend that she gave george her everything, let him see her completely.

she kissed him softly, one hand slowly sliding down his chest. “or, I think I have a better idea.”

“yeah?“ george hummed. “what’s that?”

“I’m ready, george.” she said softly, slipping her hand down the front of his race suit to play with the waistband of his jack & jones underwear. “I want you.”

the drivers breath hitched. “seriously? god, I love you.” he kissed her quickly, pulling her close. “if you can contain yourself for an hour while I do media, I’m gonna take you back to our hotel and show you just how much i absolutely adore you.”

aside from when he went to the media pen, y/n was always at his side, their hands clasped together. the tire drive home, george always kept one hand on the wheel and one hand with hers. when they got to the hotel, he swept her off her feet, carrying her bridal style back to the room before laying her softly on the bed, leaning over her body to kiss her.

“I love you so much, baby. you’re in control tonight, okay? this is all about you, and I want you to feel how much I love you.”

later, after they had both come ( and it was the quickest george had ever come but he wasn’t even complaining about it because absolutely nothing could compare to the feeling of finally doing it with y/n, the love of his life) they were curled up next to each other, still fully undressed as george peppered her shoulder with gentle kisses, y/n sighing contentedly in his arms.

“you okay, honey bear?” he said quietly, voice husky. “do you need anything? glass of water, a coffee?”

y/n turned around in his arms, gently kissing the bridge of his nose. “I’m okay, baby. just a little cold. can you grab me a shirt?”

george was out of the bed in a flash, rotting around in his suitcase for a fresh shirt. one that he had worn already simply wouldn’t do for his princess.

he playfully tossed her the cotton tee before rooting around in y/ns suitcase for the large plastic hairbrush before rejoining his girlfriend in bed, overcome with love as he sat behind her, running the brush through her hair.

“can we still order room service? I was thinking about that the entire cool down lap and now I’m all excited.”

y/n laughed. “of course we are. and we’re watching the hangover as well, just like we had already planned.”

and then they kissed.

———————————

got a motel and built a fort out of sheets.

the house was dark when y/n came home. she had gotten stuck in traffic on her way out of london and wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and cry. george wasn’t due home from belgium for at least another twelve hours, and she had never missed the man more.

she was sweating in the summer heat, white tennis skirt sticking to her body as she took her high heels off, enjoining the feeling of her bare feet on the marble tiles as she crossed into the kitchen.

she had missed the suitcases sitting in the doorway.

y/n froze when she made it to the kitchen, staring in the direction of the den that lead out to the patio. the dining room chairs had all been pushed into the living room, in a large circle, draped in the grey cotton sheets from her and georges bed, a soft glow coming from inside.

and in the middle of it all was the man himself, george emerging from the sheet-fort to simply say “hi honey.”

“georgie!” she shouted, launching herself at the driver and wrapping him in a hug, peppering his face in kisses before their lips finally meet. “but how?”

“I got toto to put me on an earlier flight. I just had to come home to my girl.” the driver grinned, kissing y/n again. “come, let us waste the night away in my humble blanket fort.” george grinned to himself, pulling the sheets back to allow her to crawl into the fort.

the floor of the fort was covered in pillows, the duvet from the bed spread across the floor, fluffy blanket lying on top. an unmarked pizza box from costco sat on a tray in the middle, a projector pointed at the sheets.

“george, this is amazing.”

“anything for you, my sweet valentine.” george hummed, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a gentle kiss to her head.

“hangover part two?” y/n suggests, powering on the projector

“hangover part two.”

[moaloves]

Danger Force Head canons

(If you recognize these it’s bc I posted them before I accidentally DELETED MY ENTIRE BLOG😭)

Bose calls Henry to talk about his parental problems a lot

Mika does her own hair and occasionally does Miles’ too

Sometimes Miles and Mika have to sleep in the same room to ensure they’re both still there and okay

Miles has multiple places only he knows about and that he occasionally teleports to just to get some time away

Bose occasionally has trouble setting boundaries leading to the others’ unintentionally hurting him

In the opposite direction Chapa occasionally preemptively sets too many boundaries causing the others to accidentally exclude her

Miles runs late to things a lot of the time because he constantly thinks, “It’ll only take me a second to get there!” even if he’s meant to already be there

Mika drinks tea almost every night to soothe her throat preemptively

Chapa makes most of her own clothes but Miles can sew better than she can

Mika struggles to meet the expectations she has set for herself, often leading to burnout and breakdowns

Miles often struggles with how his interpersonal values conflict with beating up criminals all the time

Due to going to school together and fighting crime together all four kids quickly become codependent

Chapa sometimes has to spend hours or days to herself just to get away from all the stress being a superhero causes

Bose was the first of them to get seriously hurt on a mission, forcing him on bed rest for a week, and off active field duty for at least a month

It was the first time the others really realized that one day this job may kill them

A few villains retired after Kid Danger “died” and more are extra careful with how they treat Danger Force, just in case

As the kids get older they spend a lot of time making up on the schoolwork they missed when they were younger

As the kids get older they get more and more disillusioned with the whole superhero gimmick

They all quit being sidekicks like Henry did although at different times

Miles quits first, deciding he’s ready for a more peaceful approach

Chapa quits next, feeling constrained by Ray and like she’s ready to be an adult

Bose leaves after her, more peacefully than the other two but not without at least one screaming match

Mika lasts the longest but eventually has to leave to go to college and live her life

Ray often wonders if taking in more sidekicks was truly a good idea

Schwoz loves the kids as though they’re his own

He often gives them money (that he may or may not have taken from Ray) to allow them to go out like normal teenagers

If Bose overuses his powers he can get migraines occasionally resulting in nose bleeds and on the worst days nausea

The first time it happened he threw up and fainted

It was terrifying for everyone to witness

If Mika overuses her powers she loses her voice for about a week and can’t super scream for even longer

The overuse will make her throat swell as well, causing her to have difficulty breathing

It’s extremely painful and the only thing the others can do is give her medicine and make her soothing drinks

When Miles overuses his powers he gets extreme vertigo.

He’s also often nauseous making it near impossible to move.

It’s disconcerting and no one's ever sure how long it will last.

When Chapa overuses her powers her hands and other extremities go numb

She can still summon lightning but she has no control over the output or direction it goes leading it to be dangerous for everyone around her

She usually just has to carry around insulation gloves and wait for her hands to regain feeling

[the-egg]

See Me as I Am

Tags: Hurt/ comfort, lil angsty, implied smut, no use of Y/N, couple swears :^

Based on a request here: https://www.tumblr.com/the-egg/724847770180239360/yippee-could-you-write-a-miguel-x-gn-spider-fic?source=share

Summary: How far will you and Miguel go to hurt each other just to say I love you?

Word Count: 4k

===

Location: Earth 973

Report: The Prowler from Earth 324 was seen breaking and entering into Alchemax at approximately 11:15 p.m. Two Spiderpeople were sent to support the local Spiderman.

Anomaly capture: In Progress…

===

Atop the rooftop of the esteemed science and research facility during the late hours of the night were three Spiderpeople hidden from plain sight. While that sentence may have rhymed smoothly, the plan these superheroes made could have been anything but smooth.

“Okay,” you said, calling attention to yourself after you had gotten formalities out of the way, “Our best method right now is to sneak in through the roof and head in three different directions. We can throw the Prowler off and subdue them from three different angles.”

The local Spiderman nodded his head, eager to collaborate and earn his place in the Spider Society. Unfortunately, Miguel wasn’t too keen on going with one of your plans, but he rarely ever was.

“Really? A sneak attack with the Prowler?” Miguel mocked, pinching his brow between his fingers. “A sneak attack wouldn’t work against an anomaly with heightened senses.”

You rolled your eyes at him before snapping your fingers.

“Shoot, you’re right! If only we were a team of highly trained superheroes who knew how to move without making a sound— Oh wait—”

Miguel lightly shoved his hand onto your face, groaning at your antics as he directed his attention to the other Spider.

“Don’t listen to them. What we need is a direct attack facing the Prowler head-on. They can’t take all three of us at once, and there is no point wasting time trying to attack from a blind spot.”

Spiderman put his finger up to provide his input, but you quickly swiped the hand away from your face to interject.

“Need I remind you that the reason we were sent to help in the first place was due to the anomaly’s unnatural agility and strength?” You cocked your brow at Miguel. “You’re underestimating the anomaly again.”

“I am not underestimating the anomaly!”

“Then explain last week.”

While you two kept bickering away at one another over this petty little argument, Spiderman heard sensor after sensor going off inside the building. The Prowler was still on the move, and they would get to the reactor in no time. While Spiderman didn’t think he would be playing counselor today, he just had to hope that the two of you would kiss and make up before he billed you for this session.

“Umm…guys?” Spiderman’s voice broke through the argument. The two of you turned to him, unintentionally directing angered glares toward him. “How about you—” He pointed at Miguel— “face the Prowler head-on while we sneak from behind and attack when they’re distracted?”

Like a tantrum child being offered what they want, the angered faces lifted to delight.

“Finally, a voice of reason here,” Miguel complimented as he agreed to the new plan. Your eye twitched at his comment, but you agreed with the rookie nonetheless. Using a plan created out of compromise, the three of you successfully captured the anomaly, recruited the new Spiderman, and went off your merry, separate ways.

That was until your paths would crash into each other again.

===

It was difficult for Miguel to understand how much you cared for him.

Every remark or reminder you made out of love was taken as criticism or a reprimand.

"Hey Miguel," you called out from below his platform. "You’ve been up there for a few hours, so I brought you something to eat." You waved a bag of food from the cafeteria at him even though he wasn’t looking at you.

Miguel sighed and pinched his brow in frustration.

"What I need right now is a partner. An employee. I don’t need someone to parent me every time I do something you don’t approve of," he huffed as he refused to look down at you. Your shoulders sagged at his harsh tone, not meaning to come off as a parent when you offered him food.

"I wasn’t trying to act like that. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right—"

"Well, I am! Thanks for the check-up! You can go now!" he argued as he talked in an eerie tone, like the calm before the storm. Unfortunately, you didn’t bring an umbrella, so you left before it started to thunder.

Sighing, you clutched the bag of food you so desperately wanted to share with him as you headed over to sit with the younger Spiderpeople like your friends Hobie and Pavitr. You ate and laughed alongside your friends as you had a heart-to-heart with some of the people you cared about.

It would be nice if you could have a heart-to-heart with someone you loved though.

===

Miguel was in love with you. He knew that. Lila knew that. But it was difficult for you to understand how much he cared for you. He couldn’t understand why he had such a short temper when it came to you. Why would he snap when you did something remotely kind to him? Dare he say it’s because you tore his walls down?

You and Miguel used to be so close. Partners on the battlefield and friends on the grass hills. Your battle techniques, strength, and determination were all admirable skills that he admired and even loved. Things between you two dropped off after he found out about his other, happier, self over in another dimension.

You were skeptical of his decision to take a dead man’s place, but to be the person to wipe that smile off his face would kill you. It killed you even more that all the time in the world with you could never seem to make him smile the way his new family did. Even when your friendship grew further apart your feelings toward him remained the same. If having this new family would make him happy, then so be it; it was when his attitude started affecting your happiness that made it difficult for you two to see eye to eye.

To you, he cherished the love of his family so much that he had little room in his heart to share that love with you.

To him, he was so worried that keeping you in his life would tempt him to stray away from his new spouse to continue his family with you. You had a way of alluring him, a skill that not even you seemed to understand that you possessed. A way to make him feel like he was at home when he wrapped his arms around you after a tough mission. A way to make him feel comfortable as he shared a warm meal in the familiarity of your home, your bedroom.

Unfortunately, that was a one-time deal. You, the person who felt like having a relationship with the man who just so happened to be your boss would be a terrible idea if something went wrong. Miguel was a man who believed that you were his metaphorical canon event to a happy ending that he could love and cherish in his own timeline.

While this left you two heartbroken, to stay apart would be a heavier burden, so despite better judgment, you stuck together until Miguel decided to “move on.”

After he had lost his family, he was practically a different person than the man you had known to love.

Fighting strategies were met with taunts. Opinions were met with threats. The worst was when he said he wished he could fire you after you told Gwen and Hobie to go against Miguel’s orders during a mission.

Fortunately, when Miguel spat sparks, you lit matches.

It was a delicious love that turned toxic with the growing silence between you two.

If either one of you decided to have a heart-to-heart in this state, it would be fair to assume combustion would occur.

===

It hadn’t been less than ten minutes before Jessica informed you that Miguel wanted you in his office. You knew it was about your little argument earlier. The conversation-to-be was practically rolling in your head as you made your way to him. This song and dance had been done before.

"Do you want to explain why you went against my judgment in front of the new recruit? Again?" He will say with his back facing toward you as he makes his dramatic, slow descent to ground level.

"Because it wasn’t going to work?" You’ll answer, stating the obvious.

"You undermined my authority!" He’ll snap at you, finally turning to face you as his platform reaches the floor. There’s this look in his eyes that always lets you know when it’s the calm before the storm. He’d smirk at your comment as his eyelids go half-lidded like you were friends just joking around. You knew better.

"I uplifted your authority by showing how flexible you are as a leader," you defend yourself as you reuse the same line you did last time.

"Not as flexible as you were," he’d think to himself, but you never knew that. Then he would say aloud, "I’m disappointed in—

"You’re a disappointment to this team."

Wait. This wasn’t like before.

"What?" You muttered, taken aback by the break in continuity. A disappointment to this team? With your level of commitment, your motivation, and your power, you were seen as a disappointment? Well, a disappointment only to him.

"Every time I open my mouth, you always have something to say against it. You act like you’re on the same level as me. Like you can call the shots. I take you on missions with me so you can prove me wrong—" Lies— "and be the mature Spiderperson that everyone else sees you as, but you’re just the same!" His voice was practically booming by the time he was finished. You weren’t expecting this conversation to ever happen.

To you, it had become clear. He wasn’t just annoyed with you, he hated you, but you’d be a fool to get caught in your own webs.

"I am on the same level as you! I was with you from the very beginning, before Spider Society, before Gabriella, before you started acting like a complete asshole to everyone who cares about you! The only thing disappointing here is your lack of compassion for your team, especially for me!" you yelled, refusing to break eye contact with the man who seemed to hold nothing but discontent. Miguel narrowed his eyes at you, slowly stalking his way over to where you stood.

"With everything that I have gone through, did you really expect me not to change? If I started caring for people the way I cared for my family, I’d get weak! I’d lose my edge and allow an entire dimension to crumble!" You thought he was done after that. You thought he’d give you room to speak and remind him that he shouldn’t bear the heavy burden of losing his daughter. That no one knew what was going to happen. Despite your argument, you held the same softness you’ve always had for him, but he continued. "If I started caring for someone, I’d think that I can go against everything they say. Try to tell them when to eat and change their plans in front of a new recruit. I can’t allow myself to go soft anymore, and anyone else on the team who’s willing to stoop so low should just leave."

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

Tears pricked your eyes as your blood rushed to your face in embarrassment. He knew. He knew you still cared for him and still went out of his way to hurt you like this. With sadness turning to anger, you tried to bite your tongue and leave with your dignity intact, but your petty self had to leave with the last word.

By now, Miguel was a mere foot away from you, staring you down like he would an anomaly, but you refused to be seen as the enemy. You swallowed back the lump in your throat and prayed your voice would come out steady.

"Well then," you spoke softly, "Maybe I will. Just like how I left you alone in my sheets the morning after." You let the venom sink in as his eyes softened in pain. Eyeing him up and down, you took in the man you once knew so well, the one you still craved every night. Looking at this stranger in front of you, you wanted him to hurt as much as he was hurting you. "It’s good to know I made the right decision all those years ago."

This wasn’t an argument between fallen-out friends. This was a lovers' quarrel, but neither of them could seem to understand it. It was never just about their relationship as coworkers, in fact, there was never a time that it was.

You didn’t know that Miguel purposefully teamed up with you because he wanted a reason to talk with you, to fight alongside you.

He never knew you brought him food in hopes of having a conversation like nothing had ever changed.

Neither of you knew how much you meant to one another. It was difficult to see each other for who you were now when you both were stuck on the people you used to be.

===

You stormed down the halls refusing to look anyone in the eye, let alone acknowledge their existence. The only thing that existed in your reality was you, Miguel, and the ever-growing distance you wanted to put between you two. However, physical distance did nothing when it came to the emotional connection you two had.

Gwen and Pavitr were walking by with a newly captured anomaly when they saw you. Noticing your glossy eyes and shaking anger, they already knew exactly who had caused this.

Your feelings toward Miguel weren’t much of a secret to the Spider kiddos. While you never outright said anything to anyone about your feelings, you were an open book when it came to your emotions. Gwen found out from the way you would defend him whenever they talked about how scary and intimidating Miguel could be. Pavitr could easily read between the lines during your arguments with him. They knew how much you loved him, but the lack of proper communication between you two seemed childish, even for them.

They shared a look with one another as you walked by, and continued on their way to the Go-Home Machine.

===

"Well, that was super heartfelt," Lyla joked, appearing beside Miguel as he slowly made his way back to his platform. "I could really feel the love coming out of you when you spoke to them."

"Lyla…" He wanted to make some small quip, but all he could think about was the way your eyes looked when he insulted the way you loved him. Even though he didn’t understand how deep he was cutting, the wound was still there.

"I know, too soon, but do you know what I think is too late? Telling them you love them."

He winced, feeling his own eyes slowly grow blurry.

"Wipe your tears, big guy," Lyla encouraged, holding her same nonchalant tone. "I came to tell you that you’re needed at the Go Home Machine. Something went wrong, and Margo needs a little help."

Miguel rolled his eyes before pinching his brow, placing a hand on that slutty waist of his.

"Can’t you go and help?" He asked harshly, not wanting to be seen by anyone.

"I’m not the one who needs a breather. I feel like I’m being suffocated in here, and I don't even have lungs."

Wiping away the tears that threatened to spill, he reluctantly made his way out to resume his duties. He didn’t look at anyone as he walked by, let alone acknowledge anyone who gave him a greeting. This wasn’t abnormal behavior for him, though.

He walked by the vast cages of captured anomalies waiting for their turn to go home, until he heard a conversation that piqued his interest. Slowing down, he noticed Gwen and Pavitr off to the side as they placed an anomaly into one of the cages. Curiosity killed the cat the moment he heard your name roll off Gwen’s tongue.

"We caught this anomaly faster than they could get over Miguel," Gwen joked about your "unrequited" love.

"It’s sad, but I don’t think a confession is going to happen any time soon. Give it ten more anomalies, then maybe they’ll start treating each other nicely," Pavitr joined in.

Surprisingly, your love life was not an uncommon conversation between the Spider kids. There was always something that happened between you and Miguel that would be the next day's gossip among them. While they would be sympathetic toward you in these conversations, they couldn’t help but feel that your constant attempts to reconnect with him were pathetic. Of course, they would never say such a thing to your face.

"They’d really be cute together if they weren’t bitching each other out every time they talked to each other," Gwen admitted, locking the cage.

"Not to intrude, but it sounds like these people have chemistry, but they don’t know how to dilute their emotions to a base rather than acid. If they talked heart-to-heart, which by the sound of it, it isn’t very probable that would occur, they could stabilize their relationship. But, since that’s not going to happen, your friend should move on."

Gwen and Pavitr turned to the cage to see that the Dr. Octavius they captured was fully awake and very much engaged in their conversation. The doctor shrugged at their confused stares.

"I just thought I’d provide my input. It doesn’t mean you have to take it into consideration," Doc Oc continued.

Miguel couldn’t tell if his heart was crushed or if it had begun to bloom, but the heavy burden of guilt weighed it down. This was the first time the two had argued to this extent. It was so raw it hurt, but he knew that they had only scraped the surface of what years of disharmony had done to them.

"Hey Miguel, over here! Mind giving me a hand?" Margo called out from across the room, noticing Miguel slightly hidden behind a bundle of captured anomalies. At hearing Margo’s words, Gwen and Pavitr snapped their heads up to see Miguel’s tall frame staring them down. Their jaws dropped.

Shit, they’re gonna die.

While Miguel was furious at the way the kids talked about you, he’d be damned if he let an anomaly predict the downfall of his relationship with you. He tapped his watch to summon Lyla.

"I need you to help Margo. I have to go do something," he told her before heading back off to his office.

"It better not be something stupid!" Lyla yelled off after him, but she knew what he was about to do was probably one of the smartest choices he had made in a long time.

===

You were never going to abandon Spider Society, even if you weren’t on good terms with the leader. You did, however, plan on avoiding him at all costs till you died. It was the most logical explanation you could think of as you sobbed on the couch in your apartment. The argument kept replaying in your head, and you bid your time by reimagining the conversation if you had been honest with him. If you had been kind.

Being part of the Spider Society meant you had to be the bigger person, yet the words you threw at him were anything but. If you wanted to redeem yourself and grow, you needed to muster up the courage to go and apologize to him.

It was time to accept that things with him weren’t going to change. He wasn’t the same man you fell in love with, and you weren’t the same person he once adored.

While it was important that you apologized to him, you were still too busy being sad. You made a mental checklist in your head: Be sad, then go apologize. Solid plan.

As you sunk into the couch cushions to try and take a nap, the doorbell rang.

Fuck. Okay, pause that.

You checked the peephole before going to open the door. The moment you registered who was on the other side you froze. You had half the mind to pretend you didn’t hear him and go back to sleep, but you noticed something through your small, distorted view. Maybe it was the red rim around his eyes or the way he nervously shifted from foot to foot, but he seemed raw like a rose that just lost its thorns. Effortlessly beautiful, but lacking the edge to cause pain. It tempted you to open your doors to it, to touch the stem without fear, to cup the head of the flower with your palms before you leaned in—

Blinking away the remains of your tears, you unlocked the door.

Despite being the one to ring the bell, he looked like a deer caught in the headlights when you finally greeted him, not expecting you to be very welcoming of him at the moment.

Wordlessly, you moved to the side to let him in, and he did so with little hesitation. He followed you to the couch where he sat on the opposite side from you. As you tried to muster up the courage to speak, he was already a step ahead of you.

“I’m sorry,” he finally spoke, feeling the tension start to roll off his shoulders at his apology.

“No, I’m sorry—” You tried to say before he raised a hand to stop you.

“Please, let me finish,” he urged, his eyes pleading with you to not turn this into an argument. Agreeing, you kept your mouth shut. “I went too far. I was frustrated that you wouldn’t listen to me, and I decided to hurt you rather than talk to you.

You could tell Miguel was a bit uncomfortable opening his heart to you like this after all this time, yet your heart still warmed at his attempt.

“I don’t think you’re weak. You are one of the strongest fighters this team has ever seen and I don’t want you to stop being kind to others… kind to me.”

Your face flushed, but with his silence, you decided to speak.

“I’m sorry, too. What I said was cruel, and I shouldn’t have dug up the past like that. It’s just…” You took in a shaky breath, “…I miss the way we used to be and I feel like we won’t get to that place anymore.”

Miguel looked down, understanding where you’re coming from and remembering the conversation he overheard earlier.

“We aren’t the same people anymore, so I know that we’ll never go back to what we used to be, but I don’t believe that things can’t be fixed. I still want to keep our friendship.”

You smiled at his hope, you wanted to tell him that you still had feelings for him. That this wasn’t just about your friendship. If you two were going to have the first honest conversation after years of bitter rivalry, then you wanted to be on the same page.

“That’s not what I mean—”

“But I hope you understand—”

“I still love you,” you both confessed, taken aback by the confession of the other. Flustered yet determined, you continued,

“I still love you, but I feel like I don’t know you anymore.”

Miguel blinked away his surprise but didn’t hesitate to move closer to you on the couch. You slowly did the same.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve talked, but I’ve missed you even if I don’t really know you.”

Testing your boundaries, he reached his hand up to cup your cheek. Reveling in his affection, you leaned into his touch and took in a deep breath as you closed your eyes for a moment. You missed this. You missed him.

“Then let’s start over,” you suggested, holding the hand that held your face and giving it a small kiss before you brought it out in front of you. You shook his hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. What’s your name?”

Miguel chuckled as he went along with your ministrations.

“My name is Miguel O’Hara.”

You two lived your impromptu first date to the fullest learning everything about one another, the old and the new. You discussed clear boundaries, triggers, and how to better communicate from here on out as you shared a warm meal with him in the comfort of your home.

Miguel agreed that he wanted to take things slow with you. He didn’t want to rush into anything that made you uncomfortable and wanted to make a clear foundation so that you two could grow together rather than drift apart again. It was going to take time and hard work but no one said you two couldn’t have fun while you did it, even if that fun could be seen as a little too soon…

“So, what do you like to do?” you asked him as you sipped on drinks after dinner.

“You.”

===

It had been a long time since Miguel had slept in your bed. The covers were still the same soft material he knew. There were some new pictures on the walls he hadn’t noticed until now. It was hard to see anything other than you in the dark, not that he minded. It felt nice running his fingers down your body, feeling new battle scars, and taking note of any new mole or freckle that he hadn’t noticed before.

He felt like he was falling in love with you all over again. He loved holding you. Kissing you. Loving you. He loved the way you teased him. The way you cared for him. The way your eyes were like an open book of your emotions.

He wanted to make a new life with you in his own timeline, one chapter at a time.

When he woke up the morning after, he sighed and turned over to face your side of the bed. A small smile grew on his face as he felt his heart reignite with love.

After all the arguments you’ve had in the past and present, even after you bled each other dry.

There you were, warm under the sheets next to him the morning after.

You stayed.

[youngmasterwisdomperson]

I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes for a legitimately helpful superhero who isn’t just a cop with superpowers and even less accountability for their violent actions, and I think it largely comes down to whether I would consider their approach to hero work as more like that of a firefighter or, well, a cop. Because the stereotypical thing for a superhero to do is like, fight criminals, stop muggers, foil bank robberies, that sort of thing, but not a lot of superhero media acknowledges that crimes are largely just symptoms of large-scale socioeconomic and political issues.

I mean, sure, if you’re bullet proof or whatever and there’s someone who’s about to get shot, then by all means stop the guy with the gun. But crime fighting in my opinion shouldn’t be the main focus of any superhero. A great superhero only fights crime in the sense that a fireman might “fight” things like arson and building code violations. The primary goal of a superhero should always be to protect people from danger and take steps to ensure any given disaster doesn’t happen again, or if it does happen again, to ensure that they’ll be more prepared for it the next time around. A great superhero should be fighting to create a world that doesn’t need them anymore.

Well-written interpretations of Superman are especially good at this actually, with a very recent example in the form of the show My Adventures With Superman. This Superman’s goal is never once to fight the bad guys just for the sake of it or because they’re committing crimes and he thinks they ought to be put in jail or anything. In fact, I’m struggling to think of any example in that show where Clark’s motivation in a fight against the villain of the week was anything other than to get civilians out of harm’s way and then save the human bad guys from themselves. This Clark doesn’t want to hurt or imprison anyone! He’s extremely aware of his overwhelming strength and power and capacity to break things by accident, having grown up in a world that may as well have been made of cardboard, and when we see Supes out and about doing casual Superman things, the help he provides is almost never about catching criminals. Most of the time, he’s rescuing cats from trees, helping lost children find their parents, saving people from getting hit by cars, stopping bridges from collapsing, catching people who fall from high places, rescuing people from burning buildings, that sort of thing. This superman is a firefighter type to his very core.

Even when he defeats Dr. Ivo, a man who Clark has been shown to despise for the ways he’s been using his wealth to uproot people from their homes (and for the way he treats women), he doesn’t turn him in to the police. Instead, he notes his state of critical health as a result of the side affects of the Parasite suit, and brings him to the nearest ambulance. Even objectively horrible people who have done terrible things aren’t exempt from Clark’s desire to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Fighting supervillains was never about fighting evil for him. The goal was always to bring people to safety first and foremost, then to de-escalate the situation, neutralizing the source of the threat without causing anyone unnecessary harm. That is what Superman is all about.

Moving away from MAwS for the moment and into the characterization of Superman as a whole, I think that all too often Superman writers who don’t understand the point of the character undersell the importance of Clark Kent, mild-mannered reporter in the ways Supes goes about helping make the world a better place. Far too often in media, superheroes serve only as defenders of an imperfect status quo. They prevent the villains from bringing about whatever change they have in mind that would make the world worse, but more and more often as of late supervillains have been written with pseudo-sympathetic goals and motivations. They’ll pay lip-service to real-world systematic problems and social issues, then proceed to immediately undermine the validity of their stated mission by attempting to fulfill their alleged motives through needlessly ruthless, violent and authoritarian means, which only serves to imply to the audience that any sort of societal change will only make things worse, and that the status quo is the best we can possibly hope for. A bad superman writer will have Superman help the world by punching bad guys really hard. A good superman writer will have him focus on protecting people and saving those in peril instead. But a great superman writer knows that Superman alone is not enough.

Saving people, while noble and righteous and something Supes alone could do to such an effective degree, is ultimately just a patch job. A great Superman fights for a world that no longer needs his help, and Clark Kent is a big part about how he does that. Systematic problems can’t be punched, and bulletproof skin can’t save people from it. Superman can’t encase police brutality in a block of ice, or cut systemic racism to bits with his laser eyes. The tools Superman uses to protect people in a direct, physical sense are therefore not the powers he needs to create real positive change. No, the only thing that can overcome that sort of monster is the spread of information. More specifically, the truth. That’s why out of all of Superman’s abilities, it’s his super hearing and X-Ray vision that offer him the greatest amount of power to enact positive change, because while both of those have their uses as the Man of Steel, they’re actually infinitely more useful to mild-mannered newspaper reporter Clark Kent.

Superman can take on pretty much any physical threat, which is why his greatest foes are always those who threaten the world with problems he can’t punch. Picture in your mind, if you will, Superman’s arch-nemesis. I don’t even have to say his name, do I? Sure, you might debate for a split second the importance of the more direct threats like Braniac, Doomsday, and Zod, but everyone knows who Superman’s true nemesis is, and it isn’t any of them. It isn’t anyone with special powers or the innate capacity to level entire cities, but instead Lex. Fucking. Luther. A human man. A rich CEO, a politician. The living personification of the problems Superman can’t punch. That’s why Clark Kent is so important. Because he’s a reporter for the daily planet. It’s his job to chase leads, seek out the truth and expose it to the world. And Clark hears everything. He knows how severely corrupt the police are, because he can hear them from his office. He knows how awful the prison system is, because he can see what goes on in there through multiple layers of concrete walls.

True, he has to hide his identity as Superman and thus can’t just tell his coworkers everything he sees and hears. And even if he could tell them, it would all amount to little more than hearsay. But Clark Kent can also just follow up on “anonymous tips,” or leave hints of a big story for his coworkers to find and sniff out for themselves. Honestly, being Clark Kent must take infinitely more restraint for Supes than being the Man of Steel, because if he follows up on too many tips or knows too well where to look for leads on too many scandals, he’ll draw too much attention to himself and lose his edge against the bad guys. Hell, even with ample amount of subtlety and restraint I wouldn’t be surprised if Clark came to earn something of a reputation around the office as the “spiders georg” of police corruption and political scandals. And all that on top of that one really good tumblr post about Clark cracking down on lead pipes in Metropolis. Like this man must be a journalism machine, the whistleblower to end all whistleblowers! Superman may be able to save the world, but Clark Kent is the one who can actually change it for the better.

Not to say Superman wouldn’t publicly speak out about these things as well of course. Save enough families from burning buildings and people are bound to start caring about what you have to say sooner or later. And what are the police going to do about it if fucking Superman calls them out? Shoot the man of steel? Arrest a guy who can melt through concrete just by looking at it? Call the fucking military to deal with a man who spends his time rescuing cats from trees and helping old ladies across the street? Superman represents everything that cops want us to think they are, and logically speaking he would fucking despise them. Because Superman stands for Truth and Justice. And all cops are bastards. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[waltj]

Having Mr Driscoll thoughts.

He was lost for a long time. It was a short time to you, but for someone who just spent 6 months in a cell it was a wonderfully long time to be lost, walking along streets and reading post notices, sitting in diners and drinking coffee, closing his eyes and getting to open them somewhere where there's a door. Todd gave him black coffee in the compound. He drinks his with milk.

When he was driving the 40 miles from Ed's drop-off to Haines, he didn't think about the future. Only the past. But now he's met with the knowledge of time marching relentlessly forward. Time doesn't wait for Jesse Pinkman. As far as the world is concerned he's already dead.

Trailer parks are anonymous places. He cooks on the gas stove, eats silently out under the stars. Listens to families - kids - playing at dusk. He coughs a lot - side effects from cooking without protection, smashed bones never healed properly. The scars on his face don't bother people as much as he thought they would. Sometimes people smile at him. He keeps conversations short. Maybe there's a girl. He hopes she can't feel his eyes burning into her head as she walks back to hers. Don't get close.

Where did you move from? Idaho. Mr Driscoll has a high school diploma too. Late one night he submits an online application to a community college. He gets in. Not Business, not Sports Science, but for Childhood Education.

For a while he doesn't know if he's Jesse Pinkman or Mr Driscoll. He wonders if Jesse has to live inside Mr Driscoll, if he needs to be snuffed out entirely, if that would be for the best. Five years on, when does [____] stop being an alias? What about when all the people who love him call him the latter? He can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken in a loving tone.

It's 2023. After finishing the course, he became a kindergarten teacher. His health is... fine. He developed a twitch for a while a few years ago, but that went away. The pain never leaves him. He's never been happier. The kids and their parents love him, one of them especially, and he married her. He does crafts with them. Draws superheroes with them. Lets them spin on the chairs if they want, but patches them up when they fall. On his next birthday, Jesse will be 40. He is just starting to go gray.

[ficthots]

Lightning Bugs

A/N: Angsty, fluffy, adult themes, all of the above. There are going to be warnings attached to this, but I love this piece. I’ve spent a little over a week working on it and I still have many more ideas for Peter fics. As always let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Warnings: Adult themes, nothing too graphic, but I do recommend 18+ for this. Minors DNI. Talks of weight, many family issues mentioned as well. 

Word Count: 12.2k+

“Okay, you’re completely packed right? Did you grab your toothbrush from the bathroom? I need to unplug the toaster. Can you make sure all the windows are locked? Shit, we’re late!” You were running around the apartment frazzled and trying to make sure everything was done before you and your boyfriend left the state for a week.

You felt two hands land on your shoulders and gently massage the massive knots that had found home there. “My darling. Love of my life. The most beautiful girl in the world. I need you to take a deep breath. We have more than enough time. I locked all the windows this morning, I packed my toothbrush, and you already unplugged everything,” his hands slipped down your arms, rubbing the exposed skin. He kissed the top of your head as you took in a short breath, trying to calm down and stop the shaking in your hands.

When your mom called three months ago saying she was dying to meet your new boyfriend, Peter, and to request time off from work because her and your dad wanted to come out and see you, you brushed it off. Your parents were always a lot of talk and hardly ever followed through, but when you received an email confirmation of two tickets to your home state with your’s and Peter’s names, you thought you were going to throw up.

It’s not that you and your parents had a bad relationship, but you could definitely describe it as rocky. You had incredibly different visions and opinions about your life and when you made the decision to deviate from their dream for you, it only strained what was already difficult. You didn’t do what they wanted you to and they became your harshest critics for every decision you made. Which is why you stopped telling them about the decisions you were making, including when you started dating Peter. He was new to them, not new to you.

When you started university years ago, Peter was one of the first people you met. You sat next to him in your English 102 course and had to do an ice breaker with him about your name, your major, and your least favorite animal and why. When you said you were terrified of spiders, he claimed he was hooked on you that day.

Three years later, you two had been together for over two years, had graduated university, and moved in together. You had never been more in love with anyone and you never thought you would be romantically involved with a superhero, let alone the Spider-Man, but he had taken his place in your life and you couldn’t imagine it without him anymore.

After you had found out about his second identity, to which you were mortified about your original ice breaker answer, he took you swinging through the city in the middle of the night. You two perched on top of a building, watching the sunrise while eating the best bagel you had ever had in your life, courtesy of Peter and his favorite spot around the corner. You fell hopelessly in love with him that day and you asked him to move in with you. He was in your apartment the next week.

Your current life was nothing like the one you had grown up around. The town you were from with the people you had known your whole life all followed in the same patterns of their parents and you were no exception to that in your mom and dad’s eyes. You were supposed to get married young, have a few children, live down the road from your parents, and attend the same country club as your family to maintain the name and picture perfect lifestyle your parents loved to remind you they worked so hard to achieve. Your older brother followed the list to a t. He was married at twenty-four to the perfect trophy wife that he had gone to prom with, they had their first child at twenty-six, and bought a big white house that was only a block away from your parents. They had family dinner every Friday night at the club to maintain the image. That life was never in your plans and just the thought of it made you nauseous.

You had been given the “rebellious” child title. You moved to New York City at eighteen, got a job, and hardly ever came home to see your family. The night you told your parents you were leaving that coming August, you thought your mom was going to have a heart attack at the dining room table. She sobbed for an hour asking what she had done to make you hate her so much and what horrible thing they could’ve done to make you want to run away from your life. You didn’t bother with an answer because you knew it wouldn’t be the right one unless you stayed. You weren’t going to stay. Needless to say, you don't talk to them often anymore.

Unfortunately, there are times where you do have to talk to your parents and when it does happen, the topic of your life almost always comes up. It’ll quickly turn into a degrading talk about how you were choosing to live your life and how it wasn’t proper for a young woman to make the decisions you did, but you had never been happier.

Peter was well aware of the situation of regarding your parents and how awkward your relations were with them, but when you showed him the tickets he spent a half an hour trying to calm you down. You two sat on the couch for hours that night as you explained most of your worries and why you hadn’t been home in two years and how you didn’t want to throw him into the fire like that. He wasn’t phased in the slightest, saying he would be there with you the whole time.

Now as you left for the airport, your hands had a constant shake. You were terrified of the questions your dad was going to bombard Pete with, what your mom would say about you living with a boy and not even being engaged, and how your brother would still be the golden child that you needed to take after.

Peter gently took your hands in his, trying to soothe the tremble that just wouldn’t go away. After an incredibly late patrol the night before, he slept most of the flight there, but you couldn’t shut your brain off, your thoughts running rampant. You hadn’t slept the night before either and no matter what you did, you just couldn’t shut your brain off. The first two hours, you chewed your cheek and lip raw, picked at the skin around your nails, and nearly had an anxiety attack. Peter noticed and put one of his earphones in your ear, pulling your head to rest on his shoulder, and entwining his fingers with yours.

Your breathing slowly calmed down, shaking subsiding, and felt your eyelids getting heavy, letting Peter’s thumb rub over the top of your hand. When you woke it was to the pilot announcing your descent. Peter offered you a calm, soft grin to try and keep you relaxed. You led him through the airport with a death grip on his hand that he didn’t make note of, letting you use him as you needed.

You let out a sigh of relief at the sight before you. A driver stood at the end of the terminal, your last name written on his sign. Peter’s brows furrowed, tugging you back towards him. “Weren’t your parents supposed to pick us up?” You shrugged, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. “Honestly, I should’ve expected this. At least it’s another hour I don’t have to see them,” you continued moving towards the driver. He tipped his hat to you both as you approached, quickly moving to take the bags from you and Peter.

The black suv parked at the curb had a door open and you climbed in, feeling Pete slide next to you. “Okay, I need you to be honest with me,” you eyed him as he tilted his head at you. “Are you rich?” You chuckled and checked your phone, seeing no new messages from your mom or dad. “Me? No. My parents? They’re more than comfortable,” you placed your hand in Peter’s as he nodded his head at your response.

He rubbed his free hand on his pants, sinking into the plush seat. “Good to know,” you leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, as the car pulled away from the airport, towards your literal definition of hell on earth. Peter had never been out of New York before so you pointed out different landmarks to him as you drove through the state towards your hometown. His eyes were wide in surprise and pure excitement at the new sights to see, his gaze never leaving the window.

When the driver pulled off the highway, Peter immediately noticed the major change in scenery. The houses were massive, the downtown with its historic buildings, and as the drive went further in the city, the bigger the properties became. Peter eyed you as the car pulled into a long gravel driveway, a large white and blue home growing as you came closer. The porch lights were lit from the gas lamps, illuminating the wood siding as the sun began to set. You took in a deep breath, seeing four cars parked to the side where the garage was, trying to quickly assess who was at the house.

The double front doors flew open, the wreaths that adorned both lightly rattling at the movement. Your car door opened and you looked at Peter, as he quickly pecked your lips. “I’m right here and everything is okay. Deep breath,” you nodded at his words, following his advice. Taking in a large gulp of air as you moved out of the car, shoes hitting the driveway, your walls were immediately erected for whatever was coming towards you.

“Oh my god! My baby is finally home!” Your mom ran down the porch steps towards you, her arms opened wide as you offered her a genuine smile. “Hi mama,” she wrapped herself around you, her familiar perfume choking you as her hair fell into your face. She had her pristine white pants on with a signature black sweater, diamond tennis bracelet, and not a curled hair out of place. Not a single thing had changed about her, except for the small crows feet that came out around her eyes, showing she had in fact aged over the last couple of years.

She pulled away from you and took in the boy standing directly behind you, a large smile across his face. “Mama, this is Peter. Peter this is my mom,” she gave a smile towards him, pulling him into her embrace. “Peter, it is such a pleasure to finally meet you. I wish I knew more about you, but you know how secretive my daughter can be. I can’t wait to get to know you better this week,” her voice dripped like honey, but the bite in her words was quick.

Peter stepped back from her, arm finding home on your waist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Thank you so much for this trip, it should be a lot of fun,” you smiled at the way Peter dodged her quip at you, moving to change the topic. Before your mom could respond, a large figure appeared in the door, blocking most of the light that streamed out.

“Well, now who is this stranger standing in my driveway?” You took Peter’s hand in yours, walking together up the steps towards the voice. “Hi dad,” you felt his meaty arms pull you into his grip. “Sweetheart,” he started to talk, but took notice of Pete behind you. He held out a hand to him, offering a weary smile with it. “Son, how’re you? Peter, right?”

Peter shook his hand with an impressive force that shocked your dad for a split second. The seemingly lanky boy in front of him had immense strength that he was not expecting. You had to bite back a laugh as your boyfriend started. “Yes, sir, Peter Parker. Thank you for inviting me out. I’m looking forward to getting to know you all,” your dad eyed him and nodded his head, moving from blocking the entire door.

“Of course. Us too,” you all moved into the foyer and you could see Peter’s Adam's apple bob at the chandelier that hung in the space. The staircase was to the left of the entryway, the wallpaper that adorned the walls was new you noted. Your mom smiled at you both and squinted her eyes in your direction, her hand coming to land under your chin.

You held your breath in your throat at the movement. She did this every time she saw you, taking in who was standing before her with the most judgment a person could offer. Peter’s eyes squinted in thought as he tried to gauge what was about to happen, trying to fight the urge to bat her hand away from your face.

“Alright, let me look at you,” she moved your head from left to right, taking in your features that you didn’t think had changed that much since you last saw her. Her hand fell away, eyes scanning your figure. “My most beautiful girl as always. You need to use a night cream, sweetheart, it’ll help with the eye bags. I’ll leave one in your bathroom. You two head up to your old room and get changed for dinner. We’re eating in the dining room in thirty minutes. We’ll catch up then. Go on,” she motioned with her hands up the stairs as she followed your dad down the hallway towards the living room where you could hear kids playing.

Peter grabbed your suitcases, letting you take your duffle bag on your shoulder as he carried the rest up. When you opened the door to your room, you saw that your mom had completely renovated the space. All of your childhood items were missing, new wallpaper and paint on the walls, a king size mattress with a bright white comforter, and a vase of blue hydrangeas sitting on the antique dresser took their place.

You threw your bag down as Peter closed the door behind you two. You flopped onto the bed, burying your face in the pillow and letting out a small scream. Peter laughed and laid next to you, pulling your face from the pillow, making you look at him, his eyes wide in surprise at the exchange that had just happened. “Holy shit, what the fuck?” You nodded your head, pursing your lips. “I haven’t seen them in two years and the first things out of my mothers mouth are about my eye bags and how I keep secrets from them,” you rolled your eyes, Peter’s fingers dancing over your cheekbone.

“We got this, bug. Just keep it surfacey and it’ll be okay,” you nodded your head at his words as he sighed and looked at the ceiling. “This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever laid on in my life. How much does this cost? I bet we can steal it and take it home with us,” you snorted at his words, shoving him and sitting up.

“We need to get dressed for dinner, come on,” you pulled your suitcase up onto the stool at the foot of the bed. Peter went to the closet to get hangers for your stuff and scoffed at the ones he found. “I didn’t realize people actually had these satin hangers. I’ve only ever seen them in movies,” he mumbled, going to take a shirt from his bag to hang it up. You watched as the shirt slipped off the satin hanger into a pool on the floor, your mind starting to race about what dinner would be like. You didn’t even notice you had zoned out as Peter kept talking, moving towards you slowly.

“Wow and they’re complete shit. Can’t even hold a shirt. Our plastic ones can hold shirts,” you giggled as his arms wrapped around you from behind, lips attacking your neck, a small squeal coming from you as his fingers went to your sides, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present moment. “Come on, baby, give me a smile,” you turned around in his arms, draping your arms around his neck as you pulled the biggest, cheesiest smile you could.

“That’ll do. I’ll get a real one out of you by the end of the night. Now, I need you to show me what someone changes into for dinner. May and I normally put pajamas on and we would watch tv together in the living room off of tv trays,” your fingers played with the hair on the nape of his neck and you placed a kiss on his jaw before pulling away and looking at what he packed, trying to pick out an outfit for him as you chuckled at his memory.

Peter zipped your dress up for you as you slipped into your slightly heeled sandals. You and Peter matched perfectly as you moved towards the door, ready to face whatever was coming at you within the next few minutes. His hand found the small of your back and he gently grabbed the fabric of your dress, stopping you.

“Deep breath. If you need my help just squeeze my hand, okay? I’ll do the same for you if I don’t know how you want me to answer something. I’m right here and you’re okay,” you did as he said, mimicking his deep breath, nodding your head as you laced your fingers together, heading downstairs into the belly of the beast.

Your brother's kids could be heard from all over the house as you two rounded the corner into the living room. Your mother had changed, opting for a summer evening style type of dress while your father wore his dress pants and a button up. Your brother stood from his chair, not greeting you as you both stepped into the room.

“Great, we’re all ready for dinner. It’s all in the dining room, come on!” Your mom hurried the group into the space, while you led Peter to your chairs. He pulled yours out for you, pushing in as you sat. You shot him a surprised look, in only an exchanged glance asking how he knew how to do that. In response, he shot you a wink as he took his chair next to yours.

The food was splayed out on the table and it looked absolutely delicious, your stomach groaning as you realized you hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. You placed the napkin that sat on the plate in front of you gently on your lap as Peter watched you from the corner of his eye, mimicking your movements as your mom eyed the door to the kitchen.

Staff flowed out, going to serve everyone as your sister-in-law cleared her throat to get your attention, saying your name as gently as she could to not disturb the quiet that you all had been sitting in. “You look absolutely radiant. I can see that New York air is treating you well,” you gave a small smile and nodded your head and went to speak, but were interrupted as your mother spoke first. “She always was the prettiest in the town. Had boys fawning over her. Peter you should’ve seen it. I think it was at her sixteenth birthday bash when one young boy from her class asked her dad if he could marry her! That was just the first-” you cut her off, eyes wide as Peter tried to stifle a laugh.

“Mama, please not now. It was a lifetime ago, let it go,” you grabbed your fork as you started to poke at the salad on your plate. Your face felt like it was on fire as your parents laughed and your dad’s hands clapped together making you jump at the loud noise. Peter’s hand landed on your knee to steady you. Your parents continued on, completely ignoring your pleas to stop the story.

“That’s right! By the time her graduation rolled around, I swear there was a waitlist to have a seat with me at the club to talk about my baby girl,” you groaned, forcing lettuce into your mouth as Peter chuckled, starting to eat the salad on his plate. “Pete, do you golf?” Peter sat up straighter in his seat at your fathers question, your brother's eyes moving over him waiting for his response. You wanted to punch his smug face.

“Not regularly, no, but I have played a few times before with a friend back home,” your dad nodded his head, wiping his mouth with the napkin before speaking again. “That’s good, son. Tyler and I are playing a round on Thursday, I want you to join,” your father pushed his thumb towards your brother and Peter smiled at them. “Sounds great, I’m looking forward to it. I’m not sure I have golfing attire though,” he looked down at you and winked, trying to get you to ease up.

You were stiff as a board as they went back and forth before your mom spoke up again. “Oh, don’t you worry about that, Peter. The club has a shop, we’ll get you something from there or when I take my baby shopping we’ll look for you,” she pointed her fork at you with a smile. Peter thanked her as another silence fell over the table, the only noise was the cutlery scraping against the fine china.

Shopping. You couldn’t shop with her. It was a horrifying experience whenever it happened and on the few occasions it had happened past your sixteenth birthday they all ended with you both in screaming matches in the car. Peter’s fingers gently moved over your knee, when you realized everyone's eyes were on you.

“I’m sorry, what happened?” You looked at Peter and he smiled, your mom starting again. “I said that we’re hosting a little party the day after tomorrow and we need to go shopping for it tomorrow. Peter you’re more than welcome to come,” you felt like you were suffocating. Your hand found Peter’s and squeezed, begging for a lifeline to save you.

Your mouth was dry like cotton and as you stared at the main course in front of you, not even remembering when it had been placed there. You didn’t feel like you could eat anymore. Beads of sweat started to form on the back of your neck, you could feel the shake in your hands come back, but Peter was jumping in to save you. He started talking with your family as you sat there, one hand holding a fork and just pushing the food around on your plate, your appetite gone in a blink of an eye as your grip on Peter’s hand remained the same for the rest of the meal.

Sleep didn’t come easy to you that night. You tossed and turned, worming in and out of Peter’s arms all night, trying to get even slightly comfortable. Peter slept soundly throughout the entire night and you were envious of him. You lightly pushed the hair that had fallen into his face away from his eyes.

He looked gorgeous like this. The early morning sun starts to peak in through the gauzy curtains and wrap him in its warm glow. His bare torso was out, the comforter sitting low on his waist. He had an arm tucked behind his head as he laid on his back, his head turned and facing you. His features were soft and relaxed, his lips set in a slight pout just begging to be kissed. The veins in his arms were on display and your fingers lightly traced over them. His free hand laid flat on his chest and even though he had the biggest hands you had ever seen, they didn’t even begin to cover the broad expanse of him. Everytime you looked at him you felt like it was the first time all over again. He never failed to take your breath away with just how beautiful he truly was.

“You’ve been staring at me for the last thirty minutes. I appreciate it, but after a bit it’s just creepy, babe,” his arms wrapped you up in him, crushing you to his chest as you smiled, kissing the space where his collarbone and neck met. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it and don’t act like I don’t catch you staring at me at least once a day.”

His deep laugh shook you both. His morning voice was always so deep and scratchy, turning you into a puddle. His eyes finally opened, lighter than they ever were when he woke up first in the morning. The sun fell gently on them, the normal chocolate melted into a deep honey. His hand came up and gently pushed hair out of your face, kissing your forehead.

“It’s sweet and endearing when I do it. You get this look on your face that makes you look crazy,” he mumbled against your bare skin, lips moving from your forehead to your neck. You couldn’t even fight him, his teeth nipping a sensitive spot on your collarbone. A light moan fell from your lips. In seconds, you were straddling him. You slowly rolled your hips, your bare core rubbing against his clothed erection.

You could feel the wet spot that you left on him. Your night slips skinny strap fell from your shoulder, beginning to expose your breast. You both were starting to breathe deeper, your hands braced themselves on his chest. Peter’s hands moved the tight grip he had on your waist to run his thumb across your budding nipple, moving to attach his mouth, letting his tongue take the soft peak between his teeth.

Your head fell back, a gasp escaping you when a loud knock startled you both. Peter had you laying down under the covers in the blink of an eye as your mom poked her head in the door. “Wakey, wakey, sleepyheads. We have a busy day. I need you up and ready in an hour, sweetheart. Do something pretty with your hair today, okay? We’re seeing all the cousins,” if she noticed how flushed you were, she didn’t say anything.

The door closed behind her and you both erupted in a fit of laughter. “We have an hour. What I wanna do shouldn’t take more than forty-five,” you pushed him off of you as he tried to place a kiss on your shoulder. You climbed out of the bed and headed towards the bathroom as you let your slip fall to the ground in a pool around your feet. Slowly reaching in and turning the water on, you leaned against the doorframe, looking at the wide-eyed boy still in the bed.

“Thirty minutes and in the shower,” Peter jumped from the bed, arms dragging you to the shower with him as you giggled, letting him pull you into the warm water. “If I get shower sex on vacation, then I feel like we need to go away more,” he mumbled against your lips, leaning against the tiled wall. Before you could respond, you felt his slender finger plunge into you.

You could hear the group chatting outside the fitting room and you were trying to work up the courage to open the curtain. Your mom had picked out a dress for you and you couldn’t fully zip it. You’d gone up a size since you last went shopping with her. It was completely normal. You weren’t seventeen anymore and you couldn’t freak out because of that. Your mom could though.

She had invited your aunts and cousins to join you today, making it a girls day. The uncles and boy cousins were going to hang around the house and goof around as they called it. You had shot Peter a worried glance, but he gave you a reassuring smile, kissing you chastly, saying you would both be fine. That he was only a text or phone call away if you needed him for anything. You stared at the screen, debating on calling him, but deciding against it. You could handle this. You needed to handle this. God, you wished he was there.

Your mom's voice called from the other side of the curtain, startling you from your thoughts. “Sweetheart, c’mon! Everyone’s dying to see you,” you poked your head out and found your mom. “I-uh. I need a bigger size. Just one size up and it’ll be perfect. I swear,” your mom’s smile didn’t falter as she looked at the associate. They exchanged no words as she turned and grabbed the next size from the rack, handing it to you gently. You quietly thanked her, feeling your mom's eyes bore into you as you avoided her piercing gaze, that smile still present.

As you slipped into it and stepped out, your cousins and aunts all smiled, pouring compliments onto you. Your eyes could only focus on your mom though, waiting for her to break her silence and when she finally did, you didn’t know how to react. “Gosh, I remember when we used to share clothes,” that small comment just about knocked you off your feet. Delivered in her sweetest tone possible, but it felt like you had been slapped across your face. She nodded her head, knowing you got the meaning of her words, looking at the associate saying you would take it.

As you all left the shop, millions of shopping bags in tow, your mom didn’t speak to you again. She shot you a look as you tried to get in your cousin's car that you needed to rethink that decision.

The drive was silent at first, only the light music from the radio filling the silence. Your stomach was flipping, simply waiting for her to say something. Anything. You knew it was coming. “I see you’ve been eating well in New York,” her voice finally broke the tension. You didn’t bother to respond, it always went this way.

“Do you think this is okay? Treating your body like this? You embarrassed me, you embarrassed yourself. How do you think this reflects on your family? On Peter? Do you think he wants to be with a chubby girl?” Your eyes burned with tears as you looked out the window. She knew Peter was the way to get to you and boy did it.

Was she right? You had seen who Peter was interested in before you. Gwen was a twig and you tried not to let it bother you, but maybe it was obvious to everyone. Did Peter settle? He could do better. Your mind turned on you within seconds as you tried to claw your way out, but it was too late. You had slipped and were tumbling quickly.

The car came to a stop at the house and you exited the car quickly, feeling a panic attack starting, knowing you were spiraling. You couldn’t catch your breath, feeling like your chest was going to constrict at any moment. You bolted up the front steps, throwing the front door open as your mom called for you from the driveway. Bounding up the stairs, your thoughts pummeled you. You slammed the bedroom door shut behind you and headed straight for the bathroom.

You were gasping for air, tears streaming down your cheeks as you felt the cool wall on your back, the floor tiles pulling you to sit with them. You sank down, hearing the bedroom door fly open, the towering figure found you shaking and sobbing uncontrollably.

He stooped down to your level, closing the bathroom door as he did, hearing the lock echo through the space. You couldn’t see him through the tears, but his hands went to your cheeks. “One, two, three, four,” he inhaled after and you knew to mimic him. After a few minutes your breathing was back to normal, tears halting. “There you go,” he whispered, grabbing your hands and pulling you into his lap, taking your place against the wall.

“What happened, bug?” your eyes closed, breathing him in. “I needed a bigger dress size,” you spoke quietly, feeling silly and dumb about the episode from that. How quickly you were able to turn on yourself and fall into a hole that you couldn’t climb out of. His hands smoothed your hair, waiting for you to continue, his other hand lacing with yours.

“I asked in front of everyone and mom gave me that look,” you grew angry thinking about it. Who could talk to their daughter like that? “When we got in the car she said some nasty things. Freaked me out is all. I’m sorry, I know I probably embarrassed you,” you shook your head, laughing bitterly at the end.

He tilted his head to rest his forehead against yours, an angry look taking over his features. “Don’t say that. You could never embarrass me. Especially in front of these people. I don’t let anyone talk about my girl like that,” you laughed at the end, sniffling as you did. Your worries melted away as he kissed you, hand moving to your jaw, pulling you closer.

When you pulled away, Peter’s lips landed on your nose. He started placing quick pecks all over your face and neck, a loud laugh falling from you. “There she is,” he said between his own laughs. Your thumb swept across his cheekbone. “I love you,” you murmured, feeling his laugh rumble you both.

“I love you, too, bug. Always. Now I gotta ask about your cousin, Jax. Does he really have a yacht?” you nodded your head as his mouth fell open. “Yeah, he’s from old oil money,” he rolled his eyes and let his head fall back to the wall. “Figures. I’m an actual superhero who’s broke, but they struck oil 150 years ago and they own a yacht,” you pushed his hair back as you chuckled. “Yeah, but you’re so much cooler than them. You literally make your own web fluid in a lab, swing from buildings, beat the shit out of bad guys,” your fingers didn’t leave his hair as he shrugged.

“I’m pretty cool, huh?” you rolled your eyes, getting up from his lap. “I never should’ve told you that. It went straight to your already huge head,” you left the bathroom, Peter following behind you. “Wait, keep telling me how amazing I am. The amazing Spider-Man. I can get used to that.”

Your mom didn’t bring up the incident again which you were happy about. It would only cause more trouble and you just needed to get through these last few days and you were home free.

The party was in full swing the next night. The house had well over a hundred people flowing between the rooms and backyard. You were pounding the champagne, trying to take the edge off.

Peter had called you beautiful at least ten times since you had put the dress on. It never failed to give you butterflies.

He looked positively sexy. His navy suit looked immaculate, fitting the floral pattern of your dress. Your mom had gotten his suit yesterday after the incident and had it emergency tailored to fit him perfectly and good lord did it.

“You keep looking at me like that and this party is gonna be over very soon,” he spoke under his breath, lips dancing on the shell of your ear, his arm snug around your waist. “I think you need to wear suits more often, Mr. Parker,” your eyes gleamed with mischief. His smile grew as he held your gaze. “Oh yeah? I was thinking for grocery shopping, laundry days, you know the usual?” you snickered into your glass and nodded. “Definitely, maybe even while doing the dishes,” his head tipped back, a laugh flowing from him. “You got it, baby,” as you two continued back and forth, an older couple from the club approached you both.

“My goodness, you look lovely, hon. This must be the famous Peter we’ve heard so much about,” you and Peter shared a surprised glance as he shook the outstretched hand from the gentleman in front of him. “It is. Mr. and Mrs. Chesterberg, this is Peter Parker. It’s great to see you both,” easy conversation flowed between you all. A few other couples came over and joined in as time went on. The conversation was the same a million times over. Had been since you were fifteen.

You were happy to get a quick break as your mom stood on the porch overlooking the entire party, clinking her glass to get everyone’s attention. A hushed silence fell over the crowd, eyes going to her. “We just want to thank you all for joining us tonight. It’s been so long since our baby girl’s been home and we wanted to celebrate with all of our friends and family. Sweetheart, we are so happy that you’re home,” glances shot your way as you tucked further into your boyfriend’s side, his grip tightening on you.

“And Peter. It’s been so great getting to know you. Thank you, again, everyone for joining us. Please enjoy the food and drinks. Let’s dance!” claps filled the air as your brows furrowed, trying to understand what your mom meant by her words to Peter. Your mom was a calculated person. Each word was carefully chosen with specific meaning as she spoke. What the hell did she mean by that?  

The band started playing and Peter smiled, taking your hand and moving towards the dance floor in the middle of the backyard, pulling you from your thoughts. There were string lights above the floor that gave light to the darkness around everyone, casting a special glow on your Peter. You rested your head on his chest, one hand in his, the other on his back. His chin rested on your head, his free hand on your lower back. You swayed to the music, happy to have him here with you. It made it so much easier and like it was meant to be as you fit together so perfectly. Peter was your saving grace.

As the song came to an end, your dad stepped towards you both, moving into Peter’s place and you smiled at him. “Hi dad,” he didn’t respond to you, but you were used to that. He was a man of few words, especially with you. The silence that followed him like a shadow was a comfort to you. It was one of the traits you treasured about him. He cleared his throat, giving off a warning that he was going to speak and you looked at him expectantly. “Peter’s been great these last few days,” you didn’t respond, knowing he wanted to say more. “Do you love him?” you let a small smile form at the thought of Peter. Of course you loved him. “I do, dad. He’s my person,” he smiled back at you, nodding his head as you two finished the dance in silence.

You stepped off the dance floor, going to grab a drink, eyes scanning the crowd for Peter. You smiled as you saw him talking to a group of older ladies from the neighborhood, watching as one placed her hand on his arm, laughing at something he had said. His eyes slightly widened, slowly stepping back from her hand. You giggled, taking a sip from your glass when you heard your name.

You turned and there he was. Mason. The first boy you had dated and the most eligible boy in town. Your parents were over the moon when you had told them you were an item all those years ago. You had broken things off with him shortly before you moved. You wanted a fresh start and he wanted to stay in the same town and live the exact life his parents had.

“You look stunning. It is so good to see you,” you smiled at his words, setting your glass on the table behind you. “Oh my gosh, Mason! It is so good to see you too,” you let him pull you into a quick hug, taking in the boy that had now become a man. It felt like he was from a completely different life. You couldn’t help but notice that he was the complete opposite of Peter.

Mason had sandy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and was much more visibly muscular. He had been quarterback of the football team, star pitcher for the baseball team, and was going to inherit a complete fortune. Mason was the catch of the town and you didn’t regret leaving at all. There were plenty of girls who would suit him and his dream. You weren’t that girl.

“Can we have a dance? I’d love to hear about New York,” you beamed at him, agreeing as he took you onto the dance floor. One dance quickly turned into four as you two laughed at the memories you shared.

You were trying to catch your breath, wiping tears away as he told you the story about you two sneaking out senior year. You had taken your brother's car for the night and somehow it had hit the garage door, but you completely got away with it. You blamed Tyler, saying he hadn’t put the emergency break on. Your cousin came up to you, asking for your help in the kitchen.

“I’ll see you later, Mason. We’ll keep chatting, okay?” he nodded his head, a big smile taking over his face. You followed your cousin into the house, helping her find the paper towels she was desperately searching for when your mom appeared.

“Was that Mason I saw you with?” you nodded your head, saying a quick aha! as you found the towels, handing them to your cousin. “It looked like you two were having a good time,” you brushed her off, popping a mini weenie into your mouth. “Yup. Just sharing old stories. He and I did some funny things together,” she nodded, a small smirk on her face.

“It’s just that you two look so great together. I know he misses you. He tried dating Stacy Goldchuck, but they didn’t last-” you cut her off, putting a hand up to stop her. “Mama, enough. Mason is in my past. He and I had great times together, but I moved forward in life. He didn’t. I wasn’t going to stay here my entire life and stay stuck forever. I’m done talking about it,” you pushed past her, walking out the backyard, trying to find Peter.

You let out a sigh of relief when you saw him. He had a tight smile when you approached him, yours diminished fast. “Are you okay, bug?” you entwined your fingers together and he brought them to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Everythings fine, babe,” you offered a shaky smile at him as another couple approached you both.

You didn’t have a chance to talk to Peter alone for the rest of the night. When you two went to bed, you passed out as soon as your head hit the pillow. Peter was still changing in the bathroom. You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, a note where he should’ve been.

                                           GONE GOLFING :)

You took the opportunity to spend the day relaxing, having no plans for the morning. The house was quiet. Your dad and Peter had met with Tyler for golf and your mom went to her brunch club. You sat on the back porch, coffee in hand, reading.

“Nice swing, son,” your dad offered the compliment to Peter as he hit the ball from the tee. “Thank you, sir,” Peter eyed the ball, noting where it landed. “I think he might’ve hustled us, pops,” Tyler said as he set his tee up. Peter laughed with them as he put the club back in the bag on the cart.

“I said I had played a couple times before. Didn’t say I was bad,” they all laughed as Tyler hit his ball, cursing as it didn’t go like Peter’s. As they moved to the next hole, they shared jokes and stories, genuinely having a fun time as your dad set up his shot.

“Now, Peter. Tell me again what you do for work,” Peter leaned on his club, clearing his throat as he and Tyler watched him. “A couple things. Freelance photography. I’ve done it since I was a kid and really enjoy it. I am also a lab employee at Oscorpe in New York,” your dad hummed at the response, hitting the ball, whistling as it flew.

Peter moved to do the same, your dad taking his now empty spot. “And what do you want to do, Peter?” He took a moment to think of his response, using his setup to aid him with time to think of the appropriate answer.

“Well, I love photography and absolutely plan on continuing that. I think I’m fairly good at science so I want to see what can happen with Oscorpe,” he hit the ball as he spoke, looking at your father after. One more stroke and it was in. Your dad rubbed his chin as he asked another quick question, Peter taking over Tyler’s spot.

“And my daughter. What’re your plans with her?” He couldn’t help the smile that came as you crossed his mind. All his plans centered around you. It was all for you both. “I’m going to marry her. She’s who I picture my life with,” your dad hummed again. He moved towards your brother, going to take his next shot.

“Peter, I like you, son. You seem like a good boy. Just not meant for my baby girl,” Peter’s smile fell from his face as your father kept talking, not looking at him, but at his shot. “My daughter is not meant to live in New York. She needs to come home and be with a man that can provide for her. Photography and lab work can’t do that. You saw last night how happy she was with Mason. Now, that’s a boy that can take care of her,” he putted his shot, going down four strokes.

Peter’s mouth was dry, letting his words settle over him. Of course, he saw you and Mason last  night. You were beaming with him and it broke Peter a tiny bit seeing how good you two looked together. He had tried to hide it, but he knew you caught it. This was your life and where you looked good. Peter wasn’t blind or dumb.

He grabbed his putter, moving silently to set up the shot. “So, it’s up to you, son. End it with her before you leave this week or when you get back to New York. She needs to come home. I let her live this silly little fantasy long enough, but it’s done,” Peter was shaking, still silent as he putted, watching the ball roll into the hole.

Tyler and your dad clapped. “Son, you know how to play!” Your dad clapped him on the shoulder as Peter stayed quiet. He didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t know what had happened at their game this morning, but Peter had been off ever since. He wouldn’t touch you, wouldn’t speak to you privately. He hardly even looked at you. That night as you two went to bed, he didn’t say goodnight as he laid on his side away from you.

Had you done something? You replayed every moment from the last few days, trying to place when it had happened. After you found him at the party he had been acting differently. Had someone said something to him? Maybe once he got to know your family and had seen your past life he realized he didn’t want to deal with you anymore. That you had too much baggage.

Your thoughts kept you up for hours, you had no idea when you fell asleep, but when you woke up, the bed was empty. You looked out the window, seeing Peter sitting on the back porch, reading some book he had bought a few weeks ago, claiming it would help him with work and Spider-Man responsibilities. That was code for science stuff you would never be able to wrap your head around.

It was still early, morning dew was still holding strong on the yard, a cold bite in the air. The house was still silent, signaling that everyone was still asleep. Peter’s head popped up as he watched you approach him, your bare feet padding along the wood. He gave you a soft smile. “I couldn’t sleep, I’m sorry.”

You eyed the spot next to him, moving to fill it. To your relief he accepted you willingly. You brought both feet onto the cushion, leaning your full weight into his side. You wrapped both your arms around one of his, laying your head on his bicep. His lips skimmed your forehead, eyes closing, wanting to relish the moment.

“Peter, are you mad at me? Did I do something to upset you?” you whispered out after sitting in silence for a bit, listening to his steady breathing. He sighed, your eyes scanned his face as he observed you. “Absolutely not, bug. I just-” he hesitated, trying to decide how he wanted to word his thoughts.

“Do you want to live in New York? Are you happy there?” He could see the confusion take over and immediately regretted asking. “Why would you ask me that?” You pulled away from him, anger taking over any rational thoughts you could’ve formed, quickly moving to the worse case scenario.

“I was just wondering, but I shouldn’t have said that. Forget I asked it, okay?” You stood, looking at him as he ran his hand through his messy locks. “I can’t just forget it, Peter. You brought it up. You wanted an answer. You have been acting so weird ever since that stupid fucking party. Did something happen?” Honestly, you were mainly thinking out loud, trying to understand where this was coming from.

You could tell Peter was growing more frustrated with every word you said, but you wouldn’t stop. Then it hit you. This all started after you had danced with Mason. Your eyes narrowed at him. You knew you shouldn’t have said it, watching Peter explode after the question left your mouth.

“Oh my god. Is this because of Mason? Because I danced with him?” His eyes snapped up to meet yours, jumping up from his seated position. “Yes! Yes, that’s exactly what this is about. You looked fucking elated dancing with him. It made me upset seeing you so happy with him. You know you’ve never looked at me like that?” He was shouting and you were so irate you were visibly shaking, the cold long forgotten.

“Oh please, Peter. Give me a fucking break. How the hell do you think I feel when I see you and Gwen together literally all the time? I laugh at some high school memories and I’m the bad guy. Nevermind the fact that I look at you like you’re my entire world, but damn fuck me for laughing at a joke!” your arms crossed in front of you, shaking your head as Peter looked at you, confused at your confession.

“What about me and Gwen? We’re friends. That’s all,” you spat out a laugh, meeting his gaze as he calmed down, going on the defense, trying to backtrack and reassure you.

“You think I’m stupid? You think I don’t notice the longing glances she gives you? That you jump at any opportunity to spend any time you can with her? Lunch at work, walking her home, inviting her to our dinners?” Peter’s jaw fell slack as angry tears formed in your eyes, your breathing going shallow and quick, another panic attack taking shape.

He saw it starting to form and his senses kicked into overdrive, just wanting to get you to slow down and breathe. He didn’t say anything as he took in a deep breath, watching as you subconsciously followed his breathing. He could see your brain actively sort through your thoughts and feelings, seeing how quick it reached the conclusion it did.

“Maybe it’s best we did this,” you choked out. Peter started shaking his head, moving to grab you, but you took a step back. “She’s perfect for you, Peter. An Oxford graduate, works at Oscorpe with you, cause God knows I’m not smart enough for that. I’m a total fucking mess. I wasn’t meant to be in New York, was I? A stupid girl chasing a stupid dream. I was meant to stay here, marry who my parents pick for me, sit down and shut up. The perfect little trophy wife. Not much of a trophy, huh?” A wet laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. “You don’t have to stay the last two days. I’ll have my mom change your ticket,” you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

Your heart was being ripped from your chest. Peter had no idea what to do. He didn’t mean for this to happen like this. It was supposed to be a clean break, but he was watching his world crumble around him. He was watching the girl who had grown confident around him, who was incredibly smart, and the most breathtakingly beautiful woman he had ever seen that he had fallen hopelessly in love with, shrink back in on herself, abandoning everything you had become. And he hated himself for it.

He had no idea that you viewed him and Gwen that way. A lifetime ago, he loved her, sure, but not the way he loves you. He didn’t know love like that existed. You were the blood that ran through him, the driving force that got him up everyday just to see you smile. Your laugh was his energy, he loved hearing it. It was music that he would choose a million times over, but now he couldn’t figure out what to say to you.

You turned and went back into the house, trying to stifle the sobs that were running through you. He wanted to stop you, but he didn’t, your fathers words running through his head.

It was Friday night which meant dinner at the club. Your family had all left the house this morning, having errands to run, leaving you and Peter entirely alone. The two of you steered clear of each other through the day. As you two got ready for dinner, you moved around each other in silence, not sure what to say.

You stood in front of the floor length mirror, trying to zip your dress when Peter approached behind you. He took the zipper from your hands, gliding it up delicately and with ease.

You gave an awkward smile, mumbling a quick thanks as he looked at you through the reflection, no smile offered back. “You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen,” your gaze dropped from his, the smile leaving your face, looking at your shoes.

Neither of you said anything else as your parents babbled in the car, trying to get you both up to speed on the club's current drama. Peter’s hands laid flat on the tops of his thighs, fighting the urge to take your hand in his, kiss you and make everything okay again.

Your lip was raw from chewing on it, keeping your eyes on the window, not hearing a single word your mother had said. Peter noticed the old anxiety habit and so desperately wanted to pull it from your teeth, but instead he just watched.

As the car came to a stop, the valet opened your door, helping you step out. Peter appeared at your side quickly, escorting you inside. Instinctively, his hand landed on the small of your back, his touch scorching you as you kept up appearances for your family. Your stupid fucking family that had ruined your life in a matter of four days.

The club was so packed you could hardly move through the crowd to your designated table that you knew the path to like it had only been a week since you had been there when in reality it had been years. Faces perked up, greetings being shouted at you as you made your way to the table, politely offering waves and smiles to those that called out to you as you walked.

Peter admired that even though he knew you were broken like he was, you could put on that brave face and continue on like nothing was happening. He also hated it because you were well versed in having to do that. Peter knew that you had picked it up from your mother, having seen her do it since you could walk and something he had seen on this trip more times than he could count.

As you approached the table, Tyler and Annabelle were already sitting, waiting for you all to join. Peter continued the motions, pulling your chair out, pushing it in as you sat, placing the napkin in his lap. The room was buzzing with chatter, light music flowing through the space from the live band at the front of the room.

Your mom had a large smile on her face as she watched you chat with people as they came to the table, clearing her throat as another young girl you had gone to high school with stopped by to say hi, an infant on her hip that had your eyes lightly bugging out at. “Sweetheart, make sure you stop by the Davidson’s table this evening,” your eyes narrowed at her, knowing she wanted you to talk to Mason again.

Peter visibly stiffened at that notion. You wanted to offer a snide remark back to your mother, but couldn’t before the wait staff came to the table, setting three bottles of wine down. Wasting no time, you grabbed the red option, pouring yourself a hefty glass. Annabelle giggled, sticking her glass out, wanting the same serving.

You laughed as you poured hers the same. “We claim this bottle tonight,” your smile took over your face as you kept it on your end of the table. Instinctively, you poured Peter a glass too. You hesitated at the end, making brief eye contact as he smiled, thanking you. Your brother scoffed and leaned back in his chair. “Annie, do not overdo it. You’re a sloppy drunk and I don’t need that embarrassment tonight. Be an adult, please,” you watched as her smile slowly dropped, setting her glass down.

“Tyler, shut the fuck up. We’re out to dinner, she can have a glass of wine. She deals with your offspring every single day, she deserves it just for having to tolerate you,” Annabelle smirked into her lap at your words. Tyler rolled his eyes, pointing to the white wine and telling the server he would take that choice tonight.

Your hand went up to the server, a gentle smile offered to her, stopping her in her tracks. “Tyler, you can pour yourself a glass of wine. Be an adult and do it yourself,” your mom choked on her wine, eyes going wide at your challenge. Tyler leaned forward, a smirk forming on his lips. “So you're little miss independent? Think that you can speak to me like that? When you move back here we’re gonna have to take some time to reteach you some manners, little girl,” your mouth formed a small “o” as your dad went to speak, Peter beating him to it.

“I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you do not speak to her like that, you understand me? You don’t talk to your wife and mother of your children like that either, jackass. Next time you have an issue with either of them, you come to me, yeah? Man the fuck up,” everyone sat silent as Peter held eye contact with your brother. You were fairly certain he was the only one other than you who had ever challenged him like that.

Your brother's smirk had fallen off his face, sitting back in his chair, no words to follow. Your father held his hands up as your mothers face sat in an almost permanent state of shock. “Okay, everyone settle down. Peter, I don’t think he meant any harm by that. It’s how Tyler jokes around,” you scoffed at that, rolling your eyes as Peter’s hand found your own, lacing your fingers together, not backing down.

“Joking or not, I will not let him speak to her like that. I don’t appreciate it and most definitely will not tolerate it. From anyone,” Peter eyed everyone at the table, taking a beat longer with your mother. You bit back a smile, feeling your pulse speed up at his words. No one had ever stuck up for you like that and as it happened you didn’t know how to react, other than to squeeze his hand, him immediately doing it back. It was him letting you know he would always do that for you.

As the servers approached the table with the first course, Peter smiled at you and Annabelle. “Tell you what, I love salad, but there are other appetizers out there. Have they ever thought about putting something like pigs in a blanket as an option? I bet it would go over well,” you couldn’t help but smile as Peter moved on from that moment.

The rest of the dinner went by as your parents and brother sat mostly silent, you three constantly in a fit of laughter as conversation flowed. You felt at ease with Peter, but you couldn’t help but feel the dread in the back of your mind knowing a really tough conversation was going to have to happen. But in that moment it didn’t matter as his hand never left yours the rest of the night, his arm eventually draping over the back of your chair, tugging it closer to his, shielding you from everyone in his presence.

When the music started to pick up, Peter’s smile grew as he stood, offering his hand to you. “C’mon, baby, let’s go dance,” you took his hand and let him lead you to the floor, your mothers eyes never leaving you two.

You and Peter danced for over thirty minutes, laughter taking you both over as you realized just how bad of a dancer he was. You caught the look of Mason and offered a soft smile, him returning it as he saw you and Peter together, turning around and going back to his table. You grabbed Peter’s hand and led them over to the Davidson’s table.

He quickly spoke in your ear before you approached them, hand landing on your hip to stop you. “What’re you doing, babe?” You didn’t respond, continuing forward, placing your hand over his, locking it in place. “Mr. and Mrs. Davidson! I’m so sorry I haven’t been able to catch up with you all before tonight. This is Peter Parker, my boyfriend. This week has been so busy and we leave tomorrow night,” they smiled widely, Mrs. Davidson standing and pulling you into an embrace, Mr. Davidson offering Peter a handshake.

“Oh I know how busy you’ve been. Your mama has had you running the entire time you’ve been here! I thought you were staying though?” You chuckled at her question, feeling Peter stiffen behind you. You turned and eyed him, offering a quizzical look before turning back towards her. “What do you mean? Why would I be staying? We leave tomorrow,” she looked flushed, stumbling over her words, trying to offer an explanation.

You excused yourself, pulling Peter to the hallway just outside the dining room. “Peter, what the hell was that about? Why did she think I was staying here?” he sighed, running his hand over his face as he leaned back against the wall. “Okay. When I tell you this I need you to be calm,” you could feel your temperature rising, arms crossing over your chest as you told him to continue.

“When we were golfing yesterday your dad had a talk with me. Telling me that he had let you live out your New York fantasy and that the entire point of this trip was to get you home. To stay here,” he didn’t look at you as he took in a shaky breath, looking at his dress shoes. “He told me that I was not suitable for his daughter. That my lab work and photography was not enough to support you. He doesn’t want me to be with you. I’m not good enough for you,” his eyes slipped shut, dropping his head.

“Are you fucking joking? Peter, why would you not tell me this? Of course, I want to be with you. I don’t need you to financially support me. I have never wanted that, it’s why I ran from here in the first place. I want to work and I want to do what I love. Just like how I want you to do what you love and do it with me. You are everything I have ever wanted, Peter,” his eyes met yours, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you towards him, hands landing on either of your cheeks as he kissed you.

When he pulled back his pained look didn’t budge. “I need you to know that there is absolutely nothing between me and Gwen, bug. She’s just a friend. She is nothing compared to you. You are my literal everything, I would never jeopardize that,” you looked away, your face burning as you thought of your jealous outburst from that morning. “No, I know that. I’m sorry I brought that up. It was my own insecurities coming to a head. They’ve been on hyper drive since we’ve been here. I shouldn’t have taken that out on you and especially on Gwen. She is so sweet,” Peter shook his head, putting his finger under your chin and getting you to look at him.

“I’m glad you told me. I didn’t know you were feeling like that. You are my main priority and I am so sorry if I’ve made you feel otherwise,” before he could continue, you connected with him again, your lips crashing onto his like he would slip through your fingers in any second. He was too good to you. You had let all of your ugly thoughts bombard him and he didn’t deserve that.

It made complete sense why he had been acting like that since the golf game, though. The party with Mason only solidified what he had been told from your dad and you hated that they had made him feel lesser than any of them when he was ten times the men they could ever be. As you melted into him, grabbing his dress shirt and pulling him closer to you, he pulled back, putting his forehead against yours.

“I’m so sorry, babe. The way your dad spoke just made me feel like maybe there was a small part of you that missed this. Like this is where you were meant to be,” you rolled your eyes as you kissed his nose. “Never. I left this for a reason and that reason ended up being you,” his smile grew as he kissed you again.

The drive home was uncomfortable between you all as you sat directly next to Peter, both arms wrapped one of his, hands tangled together. Your mom spared one glance to the backseat and saw you both, a sour look taking over her features, shooting a quick look to your father.

When you got back to the house, you told your parents you needed to talk. Peter’s worried look made you nervous, but you kissed him gently, assuring him you had this. It needed to be done and that he should go up and get some rest. You both knew he would not be doing that, opting to sit at the top of the stairs and wait for you to be done, no matter how long it would take and that he would be right there if you needed him for anything.

You and your parents had screamed and cried for hours as you battled out every feeling and thought you had. You knew it wasn’t going to be an easy fight, but when you had finished, you were so emotionally drained you thought you were going to pass out from exertion and dehydration.

By the end you realized your parents were never going to understand your point of view, your dreams and wishes, your goals. They couldn’t comprehend why you just didn’t want what they did. No matter what you said or did, it wasn't the answer they wanted. Your dad admitted to trying to drive Peter away, but swore he did it for you. For your best interest, not realizing that he was your best interest. That he was your future.

When you walked out of the living room, your parents going to bed, feelings and thoughts all laid out with no solutions to them being reached, you just wanted Peter. He had left his spot at the top of the stairs. It was the middle of the night, the large clock on the wall reading just past two in the morning. As you made your way to the back porch, you saw a figure sitting on the large brick wall.

You quietly walked out, climbing up to sit next to him. He wrapped you up in him, having you sit between his legs, trying to keep you warm. A breath you didn’t know you had been holding escaped you as you leaned back against him, letting him hold you both up. “You know I’ve never seen lightning bugs before?”

His whisper tickled your neck, eyes peeking open and seeing what he was looking at. The yard was filled with them, their yellow blinking lights taking up the darkness in the grass, illuminating what space they filled. You looked up at him and let out a breathy laugh. “They’re really pretty. That’s how I know summer is close, when they start coming out. When I was a kid we used to catch them in jars and watch them for hours. We’d release them of course, but it was so much fun,” your heart ached at the memory. A time when everything was so simple and when there were no expectations on you. When it was okay for you to run in the yard and catch bugs.

You pulled away from Peter, going to the kitchen and grabbing a mason jar from under the island. You stepped back out onto the patio, Peter watching you with a smile as you grabbed his hand. “C’mon!” You led him to the grass and you and Peter spent over an hour catching lightning bugs, laughter carrying through the air, your breath coming out in puffs in front of you both, ignoring that you felt like a block of ice, your nose lightly running and burning.

As you and Peter decided to make your way back into the house, you caught sight of your mom standing at her bedroom window, watching you both. Peter’s arms were wrapped around you from behind, his head resting on your shoulder as you set the last bug of the night free. She had a large smile on her face, one you hadn’t seen in years and you knew that everything would be okay. Eventually, it would be okay.

When you and Peter got home incredibly late the next day, you both raced to the bedroom, collapsing on the mattress. You let out a loud sigh, letting the lumpy bed wrap around you. Peter groaned, wiggling around as he pulled you against his chest. “This mattress sucks compared to the one at your parents,” you hummed, letting your eyes slip shut, sleep finally encompassing you for the first time in what felt like forever, loving the shitty mattress and how much it felt like home.

Peter’s phone immediately buzzed, and his head shot up, grabbing it and reading the breaking news article. You giggled as he jumped from the bed, grabbing his suit in the closet, quickly putting it on. Before he put the mask on, he grabbed your face, deeply kissing you, moaning into your lips.

“Go save the world, Spider-Man. I'll be here when you get back,” he shot you a wink as he pulled the mask on, yelling that he loved you as he climbed out the window, shooting a web onto the neighboring building and swinging into the night. You laughed, knowing this is where you belonged, in New York City with your superhero and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[strangerstilinski]

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter six

fic summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle it. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 12,386

chapter notes; the trio subdues jackson using totally normal, and not at all illegal methods. gerard argent is a creepy old asshole. danny eventually cracks to give up some useful information. and lydia, as always, is leagues smarter than she gets credit for.

masterlist

c h a p t e r s i x

frenemy

The wind whipped loudly as it beat in through the open window, blowing Scott's hair around wildly as he hung the top half of his body out of the moving vehicle, using his nose to guide them out to the edge of town. After ten minutes of following some scent that only he was aware of, he eventually pulled his head back inside of the vehicle, dropping into his seat and fidgeting as if he were ready to bolt from the car at any moment.

Amber was about to question his sudden restlessness when Stiles slammed down on the brakes all-too suddenly and the Jeep jerked to a violent halt, coming to a stop just before they could run over a nearly imperceptible line of tire spikes that stretched across the cement between dilapidated buildings. Roscoe's tires squealed in protest and one of Stiles' arms was thrown out across Amber's chest to counteract the continuing momentum, holding her back against her seat and only narrowly saving her from bashing her head against the metal dashboard.

Amber gasped at the sudden stop as Stiles leaned his weight onto his left arm over the steering wheel. Forearm still pressed to her chest, he turned to look across the vehicle at Scott, "Right. What do we do now?" He questioned immediately.

Instead of offering a response, Amber was hit with a sudden rush of cold air, the passenger door thrown open as Scott shot off into the dark.

"Wh- Scott-!" She yelled in surprise at his retreating form.

He didn't turn around. Instead, he scaled the tall, fifteen foot chain link fence at the edge of the road in a quick, inhumanly agile move and dropped down gracefully to the other side before taking off into the darkness.

"I- Be careful!" Amber called out uselessly as he vanished from sight.

"I'm just a car to him," Stiles muttered despondently to himself, "I am nothing more than the superhero's chauffeur to and from battle."

Amber couldn't hold back a roll of her eyes, reaching over to pull the passenger door closed before turning to her boyfriend, "Are you fishing for a compliment, right now?"

"What?" Stiles asked in confusion, "No-"

"Mhm, whatever you say," With a shake of her head, she pulled his arm away from where it was still thrown across her sternum and wrapped her fingers around his own as she placed their hands over the gearshift, "Let's go, Batman." She urged playfully.

The grip of his hand tightened beneath hers and he was shifting the Jeep into reverse without any further prompting. The car whipped around in a flash and they began to drive along the dark buildings in search.

They continued on for several minutes before they seemed to come to a slightly more populated area. A cluster of cars had been parked in a large lot, people lined up along the side street as they waited to be let into a brick building. What had once been a warehouse now donned a bright, neon sign reading Jungle.

No words needed to be shared before Stiles parked his own vehicle in a spot at the back of the lot. He was dropping an arm around her shoulders the moment they met at the front of the car, both of them watching for late night traffic as they crossed the dark street and headed toward the alleyway at the side of the busy building.

As they crept closer, Amber could make out the dull thumping of bass-heavy music pouring out from inside, the pulsating sound only confirming her suspicions that the building had been converted into a nightclub.

The two spotted Scott making his way around from the back of the brick building and their feet carried them in his direction that much faster.

He hadn't yet noticed them. Scott had stopped at the corner of the building to peek out at the line of people queued before the door. Amber reached out to grab ahold of his shoulder but just before she could make contact, Scott spun to face them sharply, the defensive reaction causing both Amber and Stiles to jump in surprise.

"Holy crap!" Scott exclaimed in slight relief upon realizing that it was only his friends.

"Sorry!" Amber apologized quickly, "Sorry, we didn't mean to-"

"Did you see where he went?" Stiles interrupted, letting his arm drop from Amber's shoulder to his side as he looked around them, gaze making a slow trail as if he expected Jackson to appear out of thin air.

"I lost him." Scott admitted quickly, already looking back toward the crowd of people out front.

"What?" Amber huffed in disbelief.

"You couldn't catch his scent?" Stiles asked incredulously.

"I don't think he has one." Scott revealed with wide eyes.

"Alright. That- that's fine." Amber sighed, "Do you have any idea where he's going?"

"To kill someone." Scott replied seriously.

The genuine way he voiced the information had Amber's eyes flicking to her boyfriend and she managed to catch sight of Stiles' slow blink of irritation before he spoke.

"Ah.." Stiles nodded in mock understanding, raising his eyebrows with a hum, "Well that explains the claws and the fangs and all that.. Good. Makes perfect sense now-"

Scott turned around to shoot Stiles an annoyed glare while Amber rolled her eyes fondly. There was a brief moment of silence between the three of them before Stiles simply barreled on.

"What? Guys, I'm a hundred and forty-seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, okay?" He defended in a whine, "Sarcasm is my only defense!"

"Baby, don't be so dramatic." Amber scolded, reaching up to smooth her thumb back and forth along the back of his neck.

Stiles perked up slightly, "Was that 'baby' like a cute pet name or 'baby' because you think I'm acting like a-"

"Will you guys just help me find it-" Scott demanded seriously, looking between the two of them with a scowl.

"Not an 'it' anymore," Amber was quick to reminded him, "It's Jackson."

Scott sighed, "I know. I-I know."

"Alright, but does Derek know that?" Stiles asked suddenly, "Did anybody else see him back at your house?"

"I mean, I-I don't think so but he already passed Derek's test anyway." Scott said quietly.

"Speaking of that, how the hell did he pass Derek's test?" Amber questioned as she looked between them, "I mean, he said they poured it down his throat and he was paralyzed, right? If he's the kanima, shouldn't it have not worked? I mean, how could that even happen?"

"I don't know." Scott frowned.

"Maybe it's like an either/or thing," Stiles supplied, "I mean, Derek said a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right? So, when's the kanima not the kanima?" He prompted, looking between Scott and Amber.

"..When it's Jackson?" She questioned aloud.

Scott frowned and peered around the side of the building again to look at the crowd while Amber gnawed on her lower lip in thought. She was suddenly tugged backwards by a hand fisted in her shirt and she allowed Stiles to drag her back a few steps before she turned her head to look at him in confusion. Her gaze followed his own wide blown eyes to the roof of the building where she saw the kanima crawling its way down the bricks.

Her stomach dropped.

"Uh.." She choked out weakly as she stumbled back into Stiles' chest.

"Dude-" Stiles said, gaining Scott's attention.

Scott turned back around to look at his friends curiously, stepping toward them and following their gazes up the side of the building where the kanima was now crawling inside through an open window, tail swishing in the air behind it.

"Y'see that?" Stiles asked Scott, watching the dark scaly tail still hanging outside the window as it flicked back and forth.

"He's inside." Scott stated obviously.

"What's he gonna do in there?" Amber questioned nervously.

Scott was silent for a moment and Amber's gaze drifted back down to her friend at his lack of response. He was looking anxiously at the crowd of people lined up at the door again.

"I know who he's after." Scott announced.

"What? Who?" Amber questioned.

"How? Did you smell something?" Stiles asked quickly.

The person at the front of the line was admitted inside the club and as the next person stepped forward, Amber blinked in surprise at the sight of Danny handing his ID over to the bouncer who was working the door.

"Yeah. Yeah, I smelled Armani." Scott told them, nodding his head in Danny's direction.

Amber yanked the two boys back into the alley sharply and they made small noises of protest as she did so. When she released them, they both righted their shirts and shot her matching looks of disgruntled confusion.

"Danny must have a fake, but we are not old enough to get in here. And don't even start to fight me on this. Your fake IDs suck-" She told them before they could make the argument, "So, we'll just have to sneak in through the back."

"Have I told you how ridiculously attractive you are when you're coming up with a plan?" Stiles questioned, wincing when he received an immediate punch in the shoulder from Scott.

Without a moment's hesitation, Amber was tugging her long-sleeved shirt over her head to leave herself in just the tiny lace bra top she had on underneath, adjusting the hem of it where it ended above her belly button.

"What are you doing?" Scott and Stiles both asked in abnormally high voices.

She blinked at them in surprise and dropped her shirt carelessly to the filthy ground in the alleyway, "I'm making myself club-y." She told them obviously, "We'll get kicked out in ten seconds if we're walking around in there looking like sixteen year olds who don't belong."

She bent over at the waist to fluff her hair with her hands before standing back upright again and taking in the boy's outfits with a frown.

"What?" Stiles asked after a few seconds, shrinking back under her gaze.

"Gimme your sweatshirt." Amber demanded, holding a hand out.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, "You just took your top off and now you wanna steal my sweatshirt?" The words fell from his lips with barely concealed disbelief.

"No, I just want you to not be wearing it," She told him, "You are not going to wear a zip-up hoodie in a nightclub." She stated obviously.

"Uh, I am going to wear a zip-up hoodie in the nightclub," Stiles defended without hesitation, "Because this is what I'm wearing. It's cold out!"

"It won't be cold in the club!" She argued.

"We seriously don't have time for this, you guys," Scott scolded them, "Come on."

Amber huffed, leaning over her boyfriend's shoulder and plastering herself to his side as they walked down the alley to the side doors of the building, "You win this round, Stilinski." She whispered in a warm puff of air over his ear.

A quiet noise rose in his throat at the feeling of her lips against the shell of his ear and Amber laughed quietly, pressing a sloppy kiss into his short hair. She released her boyfriend and fell into step between him and Scott as they snuck over to the side doors of the club.

Stiles' reached out first, and when the door didn't immediately open beneath his grip, he proceeded to shake the knob violently. After a few moments without success, he released the door with a sigh, scrunching his nose cutely as he stepped back and looked up at the building in search of another way in.

"Alright, maybe there's like a, uh.. Like, a window we can climb through," He suggested as Scott wrapped his own fingers around the doorknob, "Or some kind of-"

There was a sudden crunch of bending metal followed by a loud creak as Scott pulled the door open. He dropped the torn off doorknob into Amber's hand and she snorted in amusement, shaking her head as she handed the disfigured piece of metal off to her boyfriend.

"-Handle that we could rip off with supernatural strength." Stiles finished lamely, "How'd I not think of that one?" He asked in disbelief as Amber tugged him through the doorway and into the building.

The music from the speakers pounded loudly inside, bass thrumming with heavy vibrations that Amber could feel nearly rattling the bones in her body. The large space was dark aside from the strobe lights that flashed at random intervals, the stop and go of the blinking lights making it difficult to make out distinct faces in the crowd.

The moment they'd stepped inside, there were bodies bumping against them as people crowded together in the dark space, club-goers moving around in tight proximity, pressing close and grinding together sensually to the thumping beat of the music. The clubgoers dancing against one another seemed to be almost exclusively same sex couples and it only took Amber approximately two seconds from the moment they stepped inside to realize that Jungle wasn't just a night club, it was a gay night club.

Two girls trading kisses between distracted steps bumped Amber's shoulder as they headed to the hallway toward the restrooms, shooting her a halfhearted apology before one of the girls grabbed the ass of the other and they both giggled and disappeared in the dark.

"Dude!" Scott yelled over the music after a few moments, "Everyone here is either a dude, or a girl making out with another girl!" He observed slowly, "I think we're in a gay club!"

"Nothing gets past those keen werewolf senses, huh, Scott?" Stiles yelled sarcastically from a few feet away.

Amber turned around to find her boyfriend being doted on by a group of mildly intoxicated, but beautifully done up drag queens, one of them stroking a finger along Stiles' sharp cheekbone admiringly.

"He's pretty cute isn't he?" Amber asked the women sweetly, pulling Stiles out of the horde by his arm and giving her boyfriend's cheek a loving pinch.

"Amazing cheekbones, this one," One of the ladies complimented, "If I had cheekbones like that I'd die happy."

Stiles blushed and after only a few more exchanged pleasantries, he pulled Amber away from the group, dragging her in the direction of the bar as she laughed at him. Scott followed only half a step behind them, the warmth of his chest pressed against Amber's back as he tried not to lose his friends in the crowd.

"She was right. You do have amazing cheekbones, y'know-" Amber said loudly over the music.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, you." Stiles squeezed his hand lightly where it was wrapped around her arm.

As they pushed through the final throng of people that separated them from the bar, Stiles finally released his girlfriend, stepping up to slam both of his hands down on the bartop with enthusiasm.

"Three beers!" Stiles demanded in visible excitement.

The shirtless bartender threw the rag in his hands over his naked shoulder and looked between Scott and Stiles with narrowed eyes, "You two got IDs?"

Both boys scrambled for their wallets and stealthily pulled their fake IDs from the back pockets, handing them over as Amber grimaced with a small shake of her head.

The pathetic slips of paper weren't even laminated.

The bartender raised his eyebrows and shot a small smile at the boys in disbelief, "How 'bout two Cokes for you guys?"

"Rum and Coke?" Stiles asked quickly, "Sure!" At the bartender's unimpressed look, Stiles sighed, "Coke's fine, actually.. I'm driving anyway-"

The bartender slipped away to ring up their order, re-emerging to set one green glass bottle onto the counter and following up immediately with two plastic cups of cola, sliding Scott and Amber's drinks toward them with a grin.

"Those two are paid for." He told them, nodding his head in a gesture to the other side of the bar.

Amber looked over the man's shoulder and saw a boy lifting his drink in salute to Scott and a very pretty girl with short hair grinning at Amber just a little further down. Amber took her bottle with a shy smile of thanks before she turned to face Scott who was grinning bashfully, and her boyfriend who was wearing a deep scowl.

"Oh, shut up. Both of you." Stiles snapped before either one of them could even speak.

"We didn't say anything." Scott defended as he grabbed his drink.

"Yeah, well, your faces did." Stiles huffed, dropping a few bills on the bar-top before slipping the tiny cocktail straw in his drink between his lips and taking an angry sip.

"I told you not to wear the hoodie," Amber pointed out with a shrug, bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a tentative sip of the cold beverage. She swallowed the bitter liquid, frowning as she examined the bottle in her hands, "..I'm not sure I like beer." She admitted.

"Just be grateful you got one." Stiles muttered grimly, taking another long sip from his Coke.

Amber leaned in to redirect the tiny straw in his fingers to her own lips and pulled in a long sip of the carbonated sweetness to wash down the lingering traces of beer. She abandoned her bottle on the bar behind them without an ounce of regret, wiping the cool drops of lingering condensation from her hand as she rubbed her palm over her jeans.

Stiles moved to drape himself over her back, bicep slung over her shoulder as he held his drink where they could both easily reach the straw. They stood watch beside the bar and scanned the crowd on the dancefloor through the flashing lights for a couple of minutes in search.

"Hey, I found Danny." Stiles announced suddenly over the loud music, bright lights flashing over his features as he pulled back to leave his cup behind them on the bar.

"I found Jackson." Scott countered, his eyes glued to the rafters along the ceiling.

Amber's eyes snapped up to the industrial metal beams above the dancefloor, heart pounding nervously when she just made out Jackson's scaly, more terrifying form moving in calculated steps with its attention glued to his friend on the dancefloor.

"Guys. Get Danny." Scott told them without looking away from the creature.

"What're you gonna do?" Amber questioned worriedly, eyes flicking between her best friend and the kanima quickly.

Scott held his hands out at his sides wordlessly and claws suddenly emerged, sharp pointed nails sprouting from his fingertips.

"Works for me." Stiles acknowledged, grabbing Amber's shoulder and pushing her in the direction of the dancefloor.

One of her hands held a firm grip on the hood of her boyfriend's sweatshirt as they pushed through the throng of grinding bodies, mumbling apologies as they turned this way and that to slip through the narrow spaces between couples. Her eyes caught on Danny once again as a group parted and she waved a hand above her head in an attempt to get his attention.

"Danny!" She yelled over the loud thumping of the music.

There were hands suddenly on her waist, fingers pressing into the strip of bare skin on her stomach as someone plastered themselves to her back. Hot breath fanned out over her ear and her hand slipped from Stiles' sweatshirt when she flinched in surprise, watching hopelessly as he immediately disappeared in the crowd.

"Someone named Danny ignoring you?" A deep voice asked.

Amber's fingers grappled at the hands on her waist and they loosened their grip easily, releasing her as she spun around to face an attractive man with light hair. She blinked in surprise and took a small step back.

"I thought this was a gay club." She stated over the loud music, her body being nudged forward into the man's chest when someone bumped into her from behind as they danced.

"I'm bi," The guy told her, shouting in an attempt to be heard over the noise of the club, "Heard you calling out for Danny and thought you might be too-"

"Oh! I, uh-"

The stranger looked out at the crowd before focusing on her again, "Oh! Wow. Shit- Is Danny a girl? Like, Danielle?"

"I- Sorry! Sorry, I actually really gotta go-" Amber apologized awkwardly, cutting the conversation short and stepping back as a heavy cloud of fog fell from the ceiling and cascaded down onto the dancefloor.

As she began to push through the crowd again, it was significantly more difficult to see than it had been only a few moments before. The fog from the machines above them was thick and the flashing lights seemed to make things more blurry as they reflected against the clouds in the air.

"Stiles?" She yelled over the music, "Danny!" She called out again uselessly.

A scream sounded out over the bass-heavy music and she pushed her way through the crowd more frantically. There was a familiar red glow just a few yards away, two bright beacons cutting through the dark that prompted Amber to shove her way through the bodies with more vigor. She scrambled to get to where she could just barely make out Derek's glowing eyes through the thick gray clouds of fog.

She pushed through just as Derek swiped a clawed hand through the darkness and scratched a deep gash across the kanima's throat. A yelp of surprise spilled past her lips as her hands flew up to cover her mouth, watching with wide eyes as Derek took ahold of the scaly creature and moved toward the back door that was positioned only a few feet away at the edge of the dancefloor.

"Derek!" She called out, stomach tossing and turning with nausea as she trailed behind and pushed out the doors into the alleyway with a crash, "What did you do!" Amber yelled after him in panic, her feet carrying her in the direction she'd seen him vanish as he'd headed toward the parking lot, "Did you- You killed-?"

She blinked in confusion, twisting around in slow turns as she looked for any sign of Derek, only to come up empty — The werewolf was gone. Her eyes fell to where Derek had dropped the creature to the pavement uncaringly, her heart pounding painfully in her chest as she looked down at the bloody creature who'd been left for dead.

In the light of the parking lot behind the building, she could see that Jackson was already beginning to return to normal; scales slowly fading into smooth skin and bulky frame shifting back into a smaller teenage body. It only took a minute for the shift to fully take effect and then Jackson was naked and unconscious, his pale human skin marred a deep crimson with the blood from the gash in his throat.

She fell to her knees beside the boy as soon as he'd returned to normal, her shaking hands hovering in hesitation over his bloody chest as she debated what to do. The cut along his throat already appeared slightly smaller than it had only moments before and she watched in relief as Jackson's chest rose and fell with slow breaths.

The sound of running footsteps approaching had her head snapping up to find Scott rounding a parked car and skidding to a stop a few feet away from where Amber was knelt beside Jackson's naked, blood soaked body. He blinked at the scene in front of him in surprise and Amber leaned back to sit on her heels with a shaky breath.

"I- We need to clean all the blood off so we can make sure he's healing-" She told him weakly, eyes flicking back down to Jackson's bloody throat again.

Scott merely blinked again and there were suddenly another set of footfalls running through the parking lot. Amber looked around the parked cars worriedly but it was Stiles who came into view next, the look of shock on his face closely resembling Scott's.

"Guys, c'mon, seriously-" She urged when neither one of them moved nor said anything.

With a collective flinch, the boys both jumped into action all at once. Stiles rushed over to help Amber to her feet while Scott grabbed ahold of Jackson's hands, already beginning to drag him across the pavement in the direction of the Jeep.

"You're gonna scrape up his back-" She started to protest, taking an immediate step toward Scott.

"He'll heal, Amber." Scott reminded her as he pulled Jackson around to the trunk of the vehicle.

"Right," She shook her head, "You're right."

The moment Stiles had tugged open the door to the trunk, Amber was digging around in search. She located a couple bottles of water, unscrewing the cap from one and immediately beginning to pour it over Jackson's neck and shoulders. The blood and water mixed together to rinse away in a cloudy stream down his body, revealing the smooth, clean skin of Jackson's throat.

"I gotta say.." Stiles began suddenly, casting a sidelong glance back toward his girlfriend as he dug around in the back of the vehicle, "Not loving how close you are to Jackson's naked junk right now." He admitted as he emerged with the thick wool blanket that they kept in the trunk for picnics and camping trips.

"Dude." Scott deadpanned in disbelief, already helping Amber rinse Jackson off with the second bottle of water.

Amber wiped at a stubborn patch of drying blood from Jackson's neck beneath the stream and shook her head at her boyfriend, "Yeah, now's not an ideal time for jealousy, Sti."

"Yeah, alright, point taken." He conceded weakly.

Amber reached out to take the blanket but Stiles refused to hand it over, moving forward instead to carelessly wrap it around Jackson's naked body himself. Once Jackson was covered, Scott stepped forward and scooped the unconscious boy up with ease, moving around the side of the Jeep to lay him down in the backseat.

Amber wiped her hands off with a napkin from the glove compartment as she sat down in the front seat and Scott and Stiles piled into the vehicle only a second behind her. They pulled around the building and parked at the front instead so they could watch as the paramedics began to wheel paralyzed clubgoers outside.

As soon as they spotted Danny being carried out on a stretcher, Scott was climbing stealthily from the Jeep and Amber couldn't hold back a sigh.

"Jesus. How many people did Jackson attack in there?" She asked in distress, looking between the boy in the backseat and the doors of the building where there seemed to be an endless train of stretchers rolling out of the doors.

"I'm not sure," Stiles mumbled, "A lot."

His fingers were drumming against the steering wheel in a quick rhythm, the quiet thudthudthud of his hand coming down again and again in an agitated beat. Amber watched the anxious tick for a long minute before placing a hand on his thigh and giving it a soft squeeze.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"We shouldn't still be here," Stiles said with a shake of his head, "Scott needs to hurry up."

"Maybe you should just get a more inconspicuous car," Amber suggested, eyeing the bright blue paint on the Jeep's hood before her eyes flicked back to meet her boyfriend's unimpressed glare, "-Or not."

It was only another couple of seconds before the passenger door was being wrenched open again with a creak as Scott climbed back inside the Jeep. Amber and Stiles both turned toward him expectantly and Scott frowned under the weight of their gazes.

"I couldn't get anything out of Danny." Scott announced.

"Okay, can we just get the hell out of here now before one of my dad's deputies sees me?" Stiles asked frantically.

He spun around in his seat to turn the key in the ignition, but the engine merely ground weakly as it struggled to turn over. A short blare of a siren rang out above the noise of the Jeep's struggle as another police vehicle hurtled into the parking lot in front of them. They all watched wide-eyed as Stiles' father's Sheriff's cruiser came to a stop just a few yards away.

"Oh my god. Oh my god! Could this get any worse?" Stiles yelled in panic.

A weak groan sounded from the backseat as Jackson shifted beneath the blanket with his eyes still closed and they all spun around to look at the boy in surprise.

"That was rhetorical!" Stiles snapped at Jackson's sleeping body.

The three friends sitting in the front spun to look back out the windshield again in distress as the lights on the Sheriff's cruiser continued to flash at them almost tauntingly.

"Get rid of him!" Scott told Stiles in a rush.

"Get rid of him!?" Stiles repeated just a bit too loudly, "We're at a crime scene and he's the Sheriff-"

"He- He's not just gonna leave-" Amber told Scott obviously.

Scott shuffled in his seat and gestured to the police vehicle in front of them again with wild movements of his hands, "I- Do something!" He amended.

Stiles' face pinched up like he wanted to say something else but instead opted to flail his arms at them in silent frustration before throwing the driver's side door open and falling out of the car in a mess of limbs. The door slammed shut behind him and Amber watched intently as Stiles and his father approach one another but her attention was torn away when Jackson sat up in the backseat.

"What's.. What's hap-"

"Shh. Back to sleep," Amber cut off his weak questions, pressing a hand to Jackson's chest and urging him gently to lay back down, "I'm gonna go help Stiles." She announced, not waiting for a response from Scott before she was tumbling out of the vehicle after her boyfriend.

"Wha'd'you mean what am I doing here?" Stiles asked his dad, "What? It's a club! It's a club. We were clubbing, y'know?" He explained as his girlfriend stepped up beside him, "At.. At the club.."

He dropped an arm around Amber's bare shoulders as he spoke and his father eyed the unconscious gesture obviously, giving the two of them a knowing look.

"Not exactly your type of club." Sheriff Stilinski stated, raising his eyebrows deliberately at his son.

Stiles blinked in realization and took a small step away from her as he dropped his arm, hands coming together in front of himself in a display of nerves.

"Uh. Well, dad," He started slowly, "There's a conversation that we-"

"You're not gay." Sheriff Stilinski interrupted blankly.

"W- I could be!" Stiles was quick to defend.

"Dressed like that?" His father asked judgmentally as he assessed his son's outfit.

Stiles balked, "Wh-"

"Told you." Amber muttered under her breath just soft enough that only Stiles could make out her words, masking the quiet comment with a cough.

He frowned petulantly, looking between his father and his girlfriend, "I-"

The Sheriff's eyes drifted over to Amber with an unimpressed look before moving back over to his son, "Not to mention you have a girlfriend."

"Open relationships and polyamory are actually a lot more common than you think-" She supplied, finally inserting herself in the conversation, "Not to mention bisexuality. Or bi-curiousity. And then there's pansexuality, which there's a lot of debate about, but I think it's honestly kind of just ano-"

Sheriff Stilinski seemed entirely uninterested in her rambling and he shook his head as he took a small step to move past them in the direction of the parked Jeep. Stiles and Amber both jumped, frantically moving to block his path again as the Sheriff narrowed his eyes at them reproachfully.

"This is the second crime scene the two of you just happen to have shown up on this week," He scolded them seriously. Amber shrunk back slightly and Stiles opened his mouth to say something but was cut off when his father continued, "At this point, I've been fed so many lies, I'm not sure I know the kids standing in front of me," He snapped, voice raising as he looked between them critically, "Now, what the hell is going on!"

There was a soft thump from inside the Jeep and they all looked over at the sound to find Scott waving with an innocent smile.

Stiles looked back to his father again with wide eyes, "W- Dad, I- I just-"

"The truth, Stiles." The Sheriff snapped harshly.

"The truth.. Alright," Stiles sighed, "The truth is-"

"We were here with Danny." Amber announced, the words falling from her lips as casually as she could manage.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed without a moment's hesitation, quick to add supporting evidence to her lie, "He just broke up with his boyfriend, so, y'know. We were just trying to take him out and get his mind off things. That- That's it."

Sheriff Stilinski looked between the two teens consideringly, studying them for hints of deception for a moment before his mouth pulled back into a small frown with a slow nod of his head.

"Well that's really good of you guys," The Sheriff sighed in contrition, "You're good friends."

There compliment put a grin on Stiles' face and he slapped a hand against his father's bicep before taking a small step back, pulling Amber back toward the Jeep with him.

"Hey," The Sheriff called out just as they'd started to turn away. The couple spun back around nervously and the man nodded his head at Amber, frowning as he eyed the amount of skin she had showing, "Put a sweatshirt or something on, will you? It's fifty degrees. You'll catch a cold."

Amber fought to hold in a sigh of relief, "Will do!"

With a shake of his head, he turned away from them, walking in the opposite direction of the Jeep as they climbed back inside. Stiles was turning the key in the ignition before he'd even pulled the door shut behind him and he was speeding out of the parking lot the moment the Jeep rumbled to life beneath them.

As if on cue, Jackson let out another quiet groan from the backseat and Amber made a soft noise of distress herself in response.

"What are we gonna do with him?" She asked, looking at Scott frantically.

"I don't know!" Scott worried, "Why do you always expect me to have the answers?"

"Maybe because you're the werewolf-" She defended.

"Okay, uh, what about your house?" Stiles suggested  as a way of ending the argument before it could really start, nudging Amber with his shoulder.

"Jason is getting off a twenty-six hour shift-" She paused, pulling Stiles' wrist toward herself and pushing his sleeve up just enough to check the time on his watch, "-An hour ago. He's already home."

"Alright, what about Scott's house?" Stiles asked, looking across the car at the other boy in question.

"Not happening. My mom's there," Scott disapproved immediately, "We- We need to take him somewhere that we can hold him long enough to figure out what to do with him."

"Or long enough to convince him he's dangerous." Amber added, peeking over her shoulder to ensure that Jackson was still asleep.

"I still say we just kill him." Stiles admitted with a wince, tensing as he braced himself for the hit he already knew was coming from the girl beside him.

"Cut that out." She snapped as she delivered a punch to his bicep, "We're not killing anyone."

"Gah! F- Okay, okay!" Stiles surrendered, rubbing his arm with a pout for only a moment before his mouth dropped open with a slow blink. A thought had suddenly popped into his brain, his eyes flicking over the road unseeingly as he got lost in his own head.

"What?" Amber questioned immediately upon recognizing the look on his face.

"I got an idea." He announced, eyes still bouncing around distractedly in thought.

She studied her boyfriend with a frown, "Does it involve breaking the law?" She questioned weakly.

"By now don't you think that's a given?" Stiles responded without actually answering her.

Amber sighed, "Just trying to be optimistic." She muttered as she turned forward in her seat.

"Yeah, don't bother." Stiles told her, reaching over to squeeze her knee.

She and Scott shared a look of commiseration, twin frowns on their faces as Stiles sped toward their new destination.

Amber blew out a warm puff of air, directing the heat into her cupped palms before adjusting the large sleeves of Stiles' borrowed flannel over her cold hands. Her anxious gaze jumped between her two best friends as she shuffled her boots nervously in the dead leaves beneath their feet.

"Okay. So, Scott and I will leave in a few minutes and you'll stay here to keep an eye on Jackson," Amber began to recite their plan once more, her attention focused on Stiles as he leaned back against a tree and nodded in agreement, "I'll drive back out during free period to bring a change of clothes for you and something for you both to eat. You keep checking Jackson's cell phone in case anyone tries to get a hold of him. Um. Just, hang tight and one of us will call you if anything comes up." She promised anxiously.

"Babe, he's not even awake yet. I'll be fine," Stiles attempted to reassure her, "I mean, how hard is it to stand guard of an unconscious asshole handcuffed in the back of a prison transport van?"

As if on cue, Jackson began to yell from inside of the van parked a few yards away, signaling that he had finally awoken.

"Stiles! McCall! I'm gonna kill you!" His angry shouting was muffled slightly by the thick reinforced walls of the armored vehicle.

With a collective wince, the three leapt into action. Stiles took a small step forward and brought his lips to Amber's forehead in a quick goodbye before Scott was leading her through the trees in the direction of her house.

After fifteen minutes of silence, Amber finally voiced the question she'd been ruminating on throughout the hike, stepping carefully over a fallen branch as she spoke, "Y'think I should be offended or relieved that Jackson didn't even mention me?"

"Relieved, probably." Scott answered easily.

She nodded in response, sighing happily as she finally followed Scott's steps through the treeline and into her own backyard.

"Oh, thank god." She exclaimed in relief, "I feel disgusting. I want to-"

"You don't have time to shower." Scott interrupted knowingly, "We have enough time to grab your car and that's it."

"What?" She whined, looking down at her clothes from the day before and the oversized checkered shirt she had buttoned over the top, "But-"

"Don't you keep a change of clothes in your gym locker?" Scott questioned.

"No-?" She narrowed her eyes at her best friend, "Oh.. My god. You have a change of clothes at school? You're going to be able to change and I'm not?"

"Dude. We need to be on time for first period if we don't want anything to look suspicious," Scott reminded her, "And it's already-" He checked the time on his phone, "Shit. It's already seven forty-five!"

"Shit!" She reiterated, running with him toward the house where they grabbed her keys and climbed into the Pacer in a rush.

Her eyes flicked to the analog clock on the dash as she moved her feet over the pedals and shifted gears, speeding down the road toward town. They had thirteen minutes.

She whipped into a parking spot at the front of the building with two minutes to get to their first class, which was a miracle in itself considering she'd managed to turn the normally fifteen minute drive to the school into an eleven minute one.

They dashed through the building in what was nearly run and Amber found herself fumbling to put in the combination to her locker correctly so that she could pull out her things.

She'd gotten zero hours of sleep, not a single one of her homework assignments was completed, her boyfriend was babysitting a kidnapped kanima slash pain in the ass, her phone was down to forty-six percent battery, and based on the slew of texts she'd received over the last twelve hours — there was a pretty good chance that Lydia was going to kill her.

She could already tell that it was going to be a rough day.

The trilling of the phone on Mrs. Patterson's desk was startlingly loud when it rang out in the middle of their Algebra II lesson that afternoon and the teacher jumped in surprise, laughing at herself as she placed her marker down beneath the whiteboard and turned to pick up the receiver. Her eyes flicked to where Amber was sitting for a moment as she conversed with someone, giving verbal affirmation to the person on the other line with a small nod.

Amber's heart was pounding nervously in her chest as the older woman hung up the phone, nodding toward the girl and moving back over to the board at the front of the room.

"Amber, you're needed in the office, dear." Mrs. Patterson told her, "I'm not sure how long it'll be, so just take your things with you, just in case."

"I- Um, okay." She stuttered in surprise, gathering her books into her arms and leaving the room in an anxious blur of movements.

Her mind was racing with the possible reasons for being called down to the office. She thought of Stiles, alone in the preserve with Jackson, and she swallowed nervously as she stepped into the main office. The secretary's desk was deserted when she arrived and she looked around in confusion for only a moment before the door to the principal's office was swinging open behind her.

She flinched as she spun around, finding Gerard Argent smiling at her in what she figured he'd intended to look like faux kindness, but in reality only succeeded in making her feel more queasy.

"Miss Callisto," He greeted slowly, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to have a quick word with you in my office."

She swallowed. Her hands tightened around her books for a moment and the old man's eyes seemed to catalogue the movement, his grin pulling up on one side as he took in her visible nerves.

"No need to panic, you're not in trouble," He joked, "I just have a couple of questions for you."

She laughed shakily and fought to calm herself, forcing the three day old image of Scott, covered in his own blood from his encounter with the old man, out of her mind as she stepped toward Gerard.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, Principal Argent."

She dropped her books into the chair in the corner of his office and settled into the seat across from the large desk, watching with a small wave of relief as the old man rounded the wooden surface to settle into his own chair, the desk serving as a barrier between them.

"I hear you're going to be studying with my granddaughter this afternoon." Gerard prompted slowly, studying her with a grin that she found uncomfortably menacing.

"Um, yeah," Amber agreed immediately, licking her lips as she quickly tried to think of something to support the lie, "History," She supplied, "The midterm is next week, so.."

"History.." Gerard repeated, the slowness of his drawl made Amber nervous for half a second, worried that she'd said something wrong, but then he was nodding his head and continuing, "One of my favorites.. Especially military history."

"I, um, I don't know a lot about military history, to be honest," Amber told him, "We cover a lot of World War Two and the Civil War but, um, not much else. We don't really.. Delve into it."

"Hm," He hummed with a frown, "You ever hear the phrase, 'know thy enemy'?"

Her heart stuttered nervously, "Um, yeah, I think I've heard that before."

"It's from The Art Of War by Sun Tzu," Gerard explained slowly, "Do you know what it means?" He questioned, raising his eyebrows and deepening the wrinkles in his forehead.

"I, uh.. You have to really know your enemy to beat them," She answered cautiously, "Inside and out. All their nuances and weaknesses and such."

"That's right," He nodded, "I think it's safe to say, you and I both know I'm having that very problem.. An enemy about which I know next to nothing. And it's killed one of my own. Among others."

"Yeah, I've heard," She responded after a moment, "Um, I'm sorry for your loss."

The old man hummed noncommittally again, "Did you hear Jackson Whittemore didn't show up to school today?"

Amber blinked, "Um, no. I didn't hear that."

"His parents called and so did the police," Gerard revealed, watching her reaction closely, "Your friend Mr. Stilinski is absent today as well. Isn't that an interesting coincidence?"

"It is a coincidence," She agreed easily, "Stiles called me this morning to let me know he wasn't feeling well. He usually gives me a ride to school but today I had to drive myself."

"And Mr. Whittemore, you wouldn't know anything about his absence, would you?"

An innocent pout sat on her lips as she shook her head in denial.

"Well, let me tell you what I know," Gerard started slowly, "I know that a teenager's first instinct is to protect their friends-" He pushed up from his chair and began to move around the desk toward her, his steps agonizingly slow, "And I believe that you, Miss Callisto, would always want to protect your friends, even if it meant lying."

The old man came to stand at her back and rested his hands lightly over her shoulders atop her flannel as he continued on.

"-So, I want to ask one more question, and this time with a small advantage."

She glanced down at Gerard's large hands and her jaw clenched uncomfortably when the old man delicately pulled her hair back until it hung behind her shoulders. She let out a slow breath through her nose and the muscles in her thigh ticked with the impulse to run.

He squeezed her shoulders beneath his hands and she took her lower lip between her teeth painfully as she felt one of his hands slide to cup the base of her neck, the other pressing two fingers firmly against the side of her throat, and Scott's warnings suddenly rung in her head, his voice echoing in her ears.

"Be careful."

"Allison's grandfather is dangerous."

"If he corners you or Stiles, you run, alright? I can't have you getting hurt."

Amber moved to stand from her chair in a rush but was push to sit back down abruptly, wrinkled hands settling back on her shoulders with a firm grip.

"I'm not going to hurt you," The old man promised, his hands retaking in the mildly threatening position they'd been in only moments before, "I just want to get a sense of your pulse. Think of it as a game-"

Before she could think better of it, Amber was speaking breathlessly, "I'm not sure what kind of games they had back in your day, but nowadays-"

"It'll be a quick one," He promised with a low chuckle, "All you have to do is tell the truth."

She huffed out a frustrated breath but nodded in complacency, swallowing loudly against his fingers in preparation.

"Do you know anything about Jackson being missing?"

"No." She said easily, moving to stand from her seat only to be yanked back down again.

"Is he in trouble?" Gerard followed up immediately, the pads of his fingertips pressing back into the hollow of her throat.

"No," She repeated firmly, "And that's more than one question."

"Does this have anything to do with my granddaughter?"

"No." She snapped.

"Does it have anything to do with your friend Scott?"

Amber blinked, slightly caught off guard, "No."

There was a brief moment of silence in which Amber grew slightly more nervous and significantly more angry.

"Your pulse jumped." Gerard told her, his raspy voice much too close to her ear to be comfortable.

His hands were knocked away as threw herself up and out of the chair, "Because this is crazy!" She snapped, spinning around to face him with shaking hands, "It's inappropriate and ridiculous. I mean, what-"

"I'm sorry, dear," Gerard told her in feigned surprise, hands coming up in a show of surrender, "I didn't mean to frighten you."

"I'm not." She quickly denied, "I'm not frightened."

Gerard's eyebrows rose with clear condescension, as if he didn't believe her in the slightest, "No?"

"No." She reiterated, shaking out the sleeves of her borrowed shirt until they fell to cover her hands. She moved them behind her back in an attempt to hide the way her fingers had began to tremble.

"Well, good then," Gerard turned to open the door to his office, stepping aside in a gesture that she was free to leave, "You may go. Thank you, for humoring an old man." He chuckled.

She grabbed her books from the chair against the wall in a rush and made to leave. Just as she was about to step over the threshold, Gerard stuck an arm out in front of her with an eerie smile etched onto his face.

"Ah. Just one more thing, Miss Callisto," He said when she paused abruptly behind his blockade, "Might I suggest you try to stay out of trouble.. A pretty young lady such as yourself really should really keep her focus on-" His eyes narrowed as he paused to choose his words carefully, "Less dangerous affairs."

Her lips pulled into a tight line but she gave him a small nod, taking a tentative step forward and barely holding back a sigh of relief when Gerard dropped his arm and allowed her to pass.

The moment she was out of the main office, she was rushing down the hallway toward her locker with quick steps, throwing her books inside and pulling her phone from her pocket with still-trembling fingers. She clicked on Stiles' contact and brought the phone up to her ear but instead being greeted by the familiar dull ringing, it went immediately through to his voicemail box.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," She hissed, clicking his contact a second time and bringing the phone up to her ear once again, "C'mon, Sti-"

"Yo, it's Stiles! Leave me a mes-"

She swore again and shoved her phone back into her pocket, looking at the clock hanging in the hallway in contemplation for a few seconds before slamming her locker shut with a curse and taking off in the direction of the rear parking lot.

Once she reached the treeline, she paused for a moment and took a steadying breath. The fastest way into the preserve was through the woods in front of her. If she ran, she could most likely make it to where they'd parked the transport van in less than five minutes — As long as she didn't take a wrong turn somewhere and get lost along the way.

Easy.

She took off in a sprint, racing through the trees and pushing her legs as fast as they could go while trying not to trip over the numerous rocks and tree roots that jutted up from the uneven ground. The incline was brutal and her boots weren't ideal for running but as she finally came up the final stretch of the hill, she spotted the bright white of the van in the distance. The brown lettering on the side of the vehicle contrasted starkly against the clean paint and she found herself pushing her legs that much harder.

Stiles had taken up post on the ground, back resting against the trunk of a tree as he used one of the many keys on his keychain to carve mindlessly at the large stick in his hands in boredom. His head snapped up suddenly at the sound of her running footsteps and he abandoned his stick to scramble to his feet clumsily.

"Hey, what-" He caught Amber by her arms when her feet skidded in the leaves in front of him in an attempt to come to a sudden stop, looking at her with surprised eyes as she panted heavily, "Woah. What's wrong? What happened?"

"Didn't- Didn't answer- Your phone." She scolded between deep lungfuls of air.

"It-It died like an hour ago-" Stiles told her apologetically, "Why what's wrong?"

"They.. Know." She gasped between breaths, steadying herself with her hands on his chest.

"Who knows what?" Stiles asked, pushing a slightly sweaty lock of her wild hair out of her face and securing it behind her ear.

"They know. Know Jackson's missing-" She explained as she tried to catch her breath.

"What?" Stiles said in confusion, "No, they can't. I've been texting his parents since last night. They don't have a clue."

He pulled Jackson's phone from the pocket of his sweatshirt to show her the series of messages he'd sent to Jackson's father as evidence. Amber grabbed his hands to steady the screen as her eyes skimmed the texts.

"No," She shook her head with wide eyes, "Allison's grandfather just pulled me from class to ask me all these questions, alright? It was practically an interrogation. And he- He said that Jackson's parents went to the police-"

Her words seemed to finally get through to him and Stiles' eyes widened, holding Jackson's phone loosely in his fingers as if the device were carrying some contagious disease.

"-They know." She finished.

Stiles made a noise of distress and pawned off the cell phone as he ran to the front of the stolen van, wrenching the passenger side door open and reaching over to click the dispatch radio on.

"All units, please proceed to Beacon Hills Preserve as instructed. Proceed with caution until Sheriff Stilinski's arrival. Repeat: Proceed with caution."

Another panicked squeak left Stiles' throat and Amber was already looking at him with wide eyes when he spun around to face her.

"What do we do?" She asked in a rush.

"We get far, far away from here-" Stiles told her, already rounding the vehicle and climbing behind the wheel.

She jumped into the passenger seat and her wide eyes fell to the phone in her hands, "What about his phone?"

Stiles blinked and froze where he had already begun to shift the vehicle into drive, as if he'd forgotten about the device already. He took it from her limp grip and tapped at the screen rapidly, clicking the contact labeled "Mom" before wiping the phone down with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and throwing it out the window just as it began to ring through.

"Okay.. Okay, and where are we going?" Amber questioned as the tires of the vehicle crunched along the forest floor.

"No idea." Stiles told her honestly.

"They were tracking his phone, right?" She questioned, "That's how they know where he is?"

"Yup."

"Okay," She licked her lips, face scrunching up in thought, "Okay, let's go to the lookout."

Stiles flicked his eyes over to her briefly in confusion as he drove the large van through a narrow patch of trees.

"-It's at the opposite end of the preserve," She explained immediately, "They won't have manpower to spread their search that far out from his phone's location. Not for hours-"

"You make a really hot criminal, y'know that?" His gaze momentarily drifted back over to her again, "You're freakishly good at it."

"I'm not so sure my skills at being a criminal are something I'm necessarily proud of." She noted with a wince.

"A hot criminal." Stiles corrected immediately.

She reached across the car to rub her thumb softly along the side of his neck, shaking her head fondly as she watched him smoothly maneuver the rough terrain through the preserve.

"Yeah, whatever. Just get us outta here, Clyde."

Later that afternoon, the nightclub victims from the previous evening – all of whom were blessedly alive – were only just beginning to be discharged from Beacon Hills Hospital after being subjected to a whole slew of tests and blood work as doctors and police struggled to figure out exactly what had happened.

Amber and Scott had finally managed to locate Danny's hospital room just as the boy was starting to collect his things and readying himself to head home.

"You're sure everything's okay between you and Jackson?" Amber questioned Danny disbelievingly once more.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Danny repeated, looking between her and Scott in confusion for a moment before rifling through his wallet with a frown, "Did the cops have to take my fake ID?" He bemoaned with a dejected sigh.

"You didn't do anything to make him angry?" Scott was quick to follow up.

Danny furrowed his brows, "How angry?"

"On a scale of one to ten, one being kind of irritated and ten wanting to kill you.. Violently." Scott elaborated.

Danny merely shrugged, "Jackson's always kind of at a four-"

Amber snorted.

"-But we're good." He promised, "I was actually doing him a favor."

At this, Amber's posture straightened and she uncrossed her arms from over her chest as she perked up in interest, "What kind of favor?"

"I was recovering a video for him. I put it on my tablet," He explained before pausing in realization, "-Which is in the trunk of my car.. And probably still at the club.."

"What was on the video?" Scott asked before Amber could voice the very same question.

Danny frowned, "I'm not really supposed to say."

"Danny, c'mon, this is important." Amber insisted.

He continued to frown and Scott sighed, "What if we told you this could be a matter of life and death?" Scott tried.

"..I'm not supposed to say." Danny repeated slowly.

Amber scrunched her nose up in irritation and tapped her foot against the floor distractedly, "What if I told you we can get you your fake ID back?"

Danny blinked, hesitating and clearly on the cusp of caving in.

"C'mon, Danny.. Good fakes don't come cheap-" She goaded gently.

He sighed, eyes flicking between them with a put out look upon his face, "Alright, fine. It was just some video he took of himself in bed, okay? I promised I wouldn't watch it and I didn't. Whether he was sleeping, jerking off, whatever, I don't know. I just know he filmed it a couple weeks ago-"

"A couple weeks ago, like, maybe say.. Fifteen days ago, a couple weeks ago?" Amber pressed quickly, wide eyes flicking to Scott for a moment before refocusing on Danny.

The boy shrugged, "Yeah, I guess, sometime around then. He borrowed a video camera from Matt and like two hours of the footage got mysteriously erased."

"But you recovered the footage?" Scott questioned.

"Yeah. Like I said, it's on my tablet," Danny told them, sounding slightly exasperated, "You guys better have been serious about getting my ID back because Jackson's gonna kill me if he finds out I told you anything."

Amber winced at his choice of words but nodded nonetheless, "Yeah, totally. We'll get it, I swear."

"But we should get going-" Scott added quickly, pulling Amber's arm and tugging her in the direction of the doorway.

"Thanks, Danny!" She called out over her shoulder.

The two moved down the hallway in the direction of the exit with fast steps, but were forced to stop short at the sight of Scott's mom, the woman blocking their path with raised hands.

"While I think you being here to check on your friend is all sorts of commendable, I've gotta play tough mom right now, even though I'm not very good at it." Ms. McCall said weakly, eyes focused on her son.

Scott looked as if he wanted to argue, eyes drifting to Amber in silent plea before focusing on his mother once again, "Right now?" He asked, not quite able to keep the desperation from creeping into his voice.

"Yes, right now," Scott's mom said firmly, "I just got a call from your principal. You are failing two classes?"

Amber's eyes widened at the information but she attempted to school her face into something slightly less surprised by the time Ms. McCall's gaze drifted over to her.

"I- I know," Scott flicked his eyes over to his friend again as he continued, "And that's why I'm going to study with Amber and Stiles. Right now." He fibbed.

"You are?" Ms. McCall asked skeptically, looking between the two teens.

Amber was already nodding in agreement, leaning her weight onto Scott's shoulder, "Oh, for sure. Stiles and I are gonna get him all studied up. Really pack this brain with knowledge-" She emphasized her words by rapping her knuckles against Scott's head firmly.

Ms. McCall pursed her lips as if she was deciding whether or not to believe the teens before speaking to her son again, "Did you know that if you fail one of your midterms, that they're gonna hold you back?" She asked quietly.

Scott deflated further, "He said that?"

"Argent." Amber grumbled under her breath in distaste.

"All of your friends are gonna be Juniors while you're still a Sophomore," Ms. McCall explained slowly, "Do you understand, Scott? You cannot fail."

"I know." Scott sighed again.

"Okay," His mom slumped in relief at the conversation finally coming to an end, "Thank you."

Amber took Scott's hand in hers gave it a reassuring squeeze as they stepped past his mother and continued in their escape once again.

"We seriously will help you study," Amber promised, "This weekend. All weekend. You're not gonna fail."

He gave her a dejected nod in response, "Thanks," He dropped her hand as they stepped out into the parking lot, "Now, let's go see what's on that video."

"If Jackson doesn't remember being the kanima then he's definitely not gonna remember stealing Danny's tablet." Scott grumbled, rubbing a hand through his hair in frustration as they explained their findings, or lack thereof, in Danny's car to Stiles and Allison.

"Why would he steal the thing if he doesn't even know what's on it?" Stiles questioned in disbelief as they stepped further away from the van and closer to the rocky cliffside of the lookout.

"Maybe he didn't take it," Amber suggested, "I mean, the trunk of Danny's car was definitely broken into, but it looked like someone messed with it, y'know? With tools. Not like it had been torn open with super strength."

Stiles regarded her seriously as he thought over her words, "Then someone else knows what he is." He pointed out.

"That could mean someone is protecting him." Scott realized, looking between them with wide eyes.

"It's like the bestiary says. 'The kanima seeks a friend.' Right?" Allison questioned.

"Okay, hold on-" Stiles cut in, rubbing his palms aggressively over his short hair as he processed the discovery, "So somebody watched Jackson make a video of himself turning into the kanima on the full moon, and then just erases part of it so he wouldn't know-? I mean, who would do that?"

"Somebody who wanted to protect him?" Allison questioned.

"There's something else-" Scott interjected, turning his attention to Stiles, "You said the only thing you found online about the kanima is that it goes after murderers.. What if that's actually true?"

"Well, no, it can't be. It tried to kill all of us, remember?" Stiles shook his head before making a show of taking his girlfriend's hand in his, "Tried to kill me and Amber twice. I don't know about you two but we haven't murdered anybody lately."

"But- But I don't think it was actually trying to kill us," Scott disagreed, turning toward Allison, "Remember, when we were at Isaac's the first time? It just went right by us, didn't it?"

Allison blinked in realization with a small nod, "You're right.. It just ran off."

"-And it didn't try to kill you guys at the mechanic's garage." Scott pointed out.

"No, I- I guess not." Amber frowned in thought.

"Well, yeah, but it tried to kill us and Derek in the pool." Stiles reminded them.

"Did it, though?" Scott questioned, looking between them.

"It would've," Stiles defended immediately, fingers tightening unconsciously around Amber's hand, "It was waiting for us to come out."

"..What if it was trying to keep you in?" Scott asked slowly.

The suggestion drove Amber's wide-eyed gaze to her boyfriend and she watched his jaw drop in disbelief, no sound leaving his mouth for a few slow seconds as he processed.

"Why do I feel so violated all of a sudden?" Stiles shook out his limbs in a full-body shiver, keeping his fingers tangled with Amber's but bringing his arm over her head and wrapping it around her shoulders to draw her closer.

"I- I almost drowned," Amber pointed out, "Twice."

"There's something else going on," Scott told them, "We don't know what it is. We don't know anything about what's going on with Jackson. Or why someone's protecting him-"

"'Know thy enemy.'" Amber quoted quietly, eyebrows drawing together in thought.

"My grandfather said that today." Allison told her.

Amber nodded, "Yeah.. Yeah, he said it to me too."

The four of them got lost in their own heads as each one of them tried to piece things together, a brief silence overtaking the group before Stiles spoke loudly.

"Alright! I've got it!" He exclaimed, "Let's kill Jackson. Problem solved-"

Amber reached her free hand up to pinch the softness of his stomach between her thumb and forefinger, glaring as he winced in pain.

"What did I say about suggesting we kill people?" She whispered seriously.

Stiles rolled his shoulders with a sigh, "To cut it out.. And that we're not gonna do that-"

"He risked his life for us," Scott interrupted, "Against Peter. You remember that?"

"Yes. But what did we just find out?" Stiles asked in irritation, "He got the bite from Derek. It's funny.. How he just got exactly what he wanted by supposedly risking his life for us-" He said, pointing out how utterly ridiculous the sequence of events was, "It's funny!"

"That doesn't mean he deserves to die." Amber told Stiles softly, resting her hand over the spot on his belly she'd just abused below his navel.

"Yeah, it doesn't mean he's not worth saving." Scott added seriously.

Stiles frowned as his gaze flicked between them, "It's always something with him though-"

"He doesn't know what he's doing." Scott defended.

"So what?" Stiles argued immediately.

"So, I didn't either!" Scott bit back.

Stiles frowned, deflating at the truth in his friend's words. A sigh fell from Amber's lips at the reminder of just how little control Scott had only a month before.

"You remember when I almost killed you and Jackson?" Scott asked Allison, turning back to his friends when his girlfriend nodded silently, "Remember when I tried to kill both of you?"

"Yeah, of course we do, Scott." Amber said quietly, voice hardly more than a whisper.

"I had you guys to help me," Scott pointed out, "He has nobody."

"That's his own fault." Stiles was quick to point out.

Amber thumped her head onto her boyfriend's shoulder at the lack of headway they were making with the conversation, pulling at his shirt to get his attention as she spoke softly.

"Look, Jackson's a dick," She agreed with Stiles quietly, "I know that as much as anyone.. But, it doesn't mean we shouldn't still try to help him."

Scott nodded, "If we can save him, we should try."

Stiles huffed, unhappy with his best friends ganging up on him, but eventually rolled his eyes with a shrug, "Yeah, alright. Whatever." He muttered, licking his lips and looking between them, "But if this comes back to bite us in the ass, I reserve the right to tell you both that I frickin' told you so."

"Deal." Amber and Scott both agreed with a shake of their heads.

Amber pushed through her front door in a wave of exhaustion. The only thing she wanted to do was take a shower and get some much-needed sleep, but Lydia was already waiting for her upstairs for what was supposed to be their study date, so she plastered a smile on her face.

"I come bearing flowers!" Amber announced hopefully as she stepped into her bedroom, "-For my amazing, beautiful, intelligent friend who's stuck by my side since we were in diapers.. And who I really hope isn't still furious with me for being weird, and cagey, and totally blowing her off-"

"You're like a lying, groveling, suburban husband," Lydia pointed out, not moving from her place in the middle of the bed, "Trying to beg forgiveness with flowers and apologies that I'm assuming will contain some sort of half-assed excuse that won't actually explain anything."

Amber deflated slightly at the truth in her friend's words.

"Does, um.. Does that mean you don't want the flowers?" She questioned dejectedly, stepping up to the side of the bed.

Lydia glared, "Of course I want the flowers. Don't be stupid," She scoffed, taking the bundle from Amber's hand and studying at them curiously, "Funny.. This is the second time someone's given me flowers in the last twenty-four hours." She commented quietly.

Immediately intrigued, Amber plopped down onto her bed beside the redhead, "Who else gave you flowers?"

Lydia shrugged, "It was just one flower. And I don't know his name."

"Was he cute?" Amber questioned in interest.

The flowers were set down gently onto the bedspread and Lydia narrowed her eyes, "Don't think you're going to be able to just change the subject. Amber.. What the hell is going on?" She demanded sharply.

"I, uh-" Amber swallowed nervously. She'd rehearsed about ten different excuses on her way home, but they'd all suddenly vanished from her brain as she sat in front of her friend, "It's-"

"Can you tell me what happened the other night?" Lydia prompted, continuing her list of questions without pause, "Why Derek Hale was there? Why it seems as if everyone around me is hiding something? How you got that golf ball sized bump on the side of your head?"

Amber found herself slightly stunned by the barrage of questions and she blinked as her fingers came up unthinkingly to the lump on her head — The swelling in the place where Erica had knocked her unconscious had finally gone down, but had been replaced by another bump just a few inches closer to her temple, where Isaac had unkindly bashed her head against the wall during their scuffle the previous evening.

"Hello?" Lydia demanded, snapping her fingers in her friend's face impatiently, "Anything?"

"I, um, I hit my head." She supplied stupidly.

Lydia's face flashed with genuine hurt at the singular, dismissive answer and Amber's heart ached as the redhead frowned at her, "And the rest?" She questioned weakly.

"I- It's not really my place to say anything. It's not.. They're not really my secrets to share." Amber said in a quiet voice.

"You can't even tell me why you and Allison both keep blowing me off?" Lydia asked, "I mean, even tonight! We plan to study and you text me to say you can talk for a few minutes but then you have to run? What is so important that-"

"Look, Lydia, I'm sorry. I really, really am. And I wish I could explain. But I can't. And-" Amber huffed, heart ticking up anxiously in her chest as she eyed her laptop on the desk, "And on top of everything I need to figure out how to translate five pages of a dead language that I didn't even know existed until-"

"What language?" Lydia questioned with a sigh, realizing she wasn't going to get the answers she seeked.

"Fucking Archaic Latin! It's ridicul-"

"I know Archaic Latin." Lydia interrupted casually.

Amber blinked in surprise, stumbling from the bed in her haste to grab her computer and bring it back over to Lydia, "You- You know Archaic Latin?" She repeated frantically, "How- What-"

Lydia shrugged, peering at the computer screen curiously as Amber clicked wildly at the trackpad to pull up the bestiary file, "I got bored with classical Latin." She explained simply.

"Can you- Will you read this for me?" Amber asked quickly, turning the screen around to show her the pages with the kanima illustrations.

Lydia hummed as her eyes scanned the page, "Mmm.. Kanima. A weapon of vengeance.. Is used to carry out the bidding of its master-"

"Wait-" Amber stopped her already, "Repeat that?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and traced her finger along the gibberish on the screen, "Kanima is a weapon of vengeance used to carry out the bidding of its master.'" She paraphrased again.

"Master?" Amber repeated carefully, "You're sure it's master? Because.. Mrs. Morrell's translation was a little rough but I'm pretty sure she said, that word specifically, meant friend."

Lydia shook her head, "She was wrong. It means master."

Amber's mind was racing at the implication. This changed absolutely everything-

"Is that important?" Lydia questioned curiously, wide green eyes attempting to understand Amber's reaction.

"I- Yeah, it is. It really-" Amber slammed her laptop shut and tripped over her own feet as she scrambled from the bed and in the direction of the doorway, "It's really important. Lyds, I- I am so beyond sorry and I love you, and you're amazing, and a freaking genius, but-"

"But you have to run?" Lydia finished disappointedly.

"Yes-" Amber confirmed, rushing back over to the bed and pressing a kiss into Lydia's perfect hair before hurrying back toward the door, arms flailing as she ran around the doorway, "I'm sorry! I swear I will make it up to you!"

"You'd better!" Lydia's voice called out.

Tripping over her own feet, Amber stumbled down the hall, movements clumsy with her haste to get back to Scott and Stiles to tell them what she'd learned.

Someone was controlling Jackson.

[primeofprimes115]

Kryptonian's Valentine

Supergirl x Male Reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

Woo! First Post on Tumblr! I've already made this fanfic imagine on my Supergirl x male reader Imagines book on Wattpad and though it could go here as well, my name is the same on Wattpad as well, but without further to do...

Let the imagine kick off!

(based off of the Tomorrowverse)

* *

*yawn* the sun shined through the curtains of an apartment as Y/N's eyes began to flick open, he notices he was alone in the bed, his girlfriend wasn't in the bed.

He shot up and looked around on his bed - "Babe?" he called out, checking a note on his bed side.

*

"on patrol sleepy head, I'll be back soon!

Kara xx"

*

He smiled at the little note before checking his phone.

Today was the 14th of February which only meant one thing...

It was Valentine's Day and in fact... This was his girlfriend's first ever Valentine's Day for she is a Kryptonian and only arrived months after Valentine's Day happened last year.

His girlfriend was Supergirl aka Kara Zor-El, people may think the way they met was through one of those love stories where the damsel in distress falls in love with the hero, but it was completely different than that.

Standing in the very same apartment, it was once destroyed after he had moved into it due to Supergirl fighting recklessly against Solomon Grundy.

His eyes widened, he remembered he had gotten her two things for Valentine's Day and he woke up late, it was 11am in the morning and he slept in, it appeared his alarm in his phone didn't go off to wake him up for the big day.

He bought her a necklace that she once saw an interest in at a jewellery store at The Mall in Metropolis the second time she went but with him by her side, guiding her through the entire place as she learned Earth through the guidance of a Human after her cousin thought it would be a good idea going by that route for her, having someone around her age show her around, make her feel accepted on Earth.

He also got her a custom made bracelet he made himself, designed with her signature "S" shield she proudly wore on her super suit, it also had very special features she sure would love.

*

Y/N was in fact a good craftsman, some say he had special abilities which he in fact does but he has always lived as a normal Human being before getting his special powers he kept hidden for a little while.

Kara knows he has abilities, being able to summon weapons made of energy out of thin air, having in-humane reflexes, enhanced strength, durability, being able to stick to walls and run along them, Kara always enjoyed carrying him wherever she flew off with him, quite say he also enjoyed it too, being flown up into the sky with her where they'd kiss everytime.

He trained her to harness her abilities with the help of her cousin Superman though Batman wasn't too trusting about the idea but let it slide, at this time Y/N revealed who he really was to Kara, showing the hero he was and revealing it was him who saved Kara from an explosion by using an energy shield to cover her a few weeks prior to meeting her face to face for the first time as a random citizen of Metropolis.

Y/N originally came from a different universe altogether with different superheroes with almost the same abilities as this world's heroes have, 21st and 31st century.

The issue with his world? Superheroes were Heroes just for the fame and cameras, they wanted to be so popular that everyone loved them and they all did.

When Y/N got his powers at the age of 15, he wanted to use his powers

he took Kara there to train her and meet the Legion who Y/N was an ally of, though she had some issues with a descendent of Brainiac named Brainiac "Brainy" 5 which would then form a friendship between the two as the days went by.

Y/N originally went to this universe to document the history, he was so interested about Earth's heroes but meeting Supergirl had given him thoughts to stay in this universe, she thought of staying in the 31st century to be a Legionnaire but her heart belonged to Y/N so she went back with him to the 21st century, to learn Earth and their primitive technology.

He was also fascinated with history, he documented any type of history, including Kryptonian history he learned from Kara, while she learned more about Earth form him, he learned more about Krypton from her.

*

He got out of bed and proceeded to get ready, he remembered hiding the two gifts so she couldn't see them with her x-ray vision, using lead to cover it up.

As he walked through to the living room, he saw his girlfriend flew in with a box of chocolates.

"morning handsome ~" she smiled - "got you something" she handed over the box of chocolates, he smiled at her and he took the gift.

"aww for me? You shouldn't have" he looked at her in awe, smiling like a goofball as the two got closer and connected lips together, he set the chocolates to the side to enjoy his kiss with his girlfriend

"it's Valentine's Day isn't it? ~" she asked pulling back - "where loved ones give each other gifts to show their true love for one another? And ask to be their Valentine?" she added as he chuckled.

"yeah, that sums up Valentine's Day, it's a holiday for love and affection, not just for boyfriends, girlfriends, wives and husbands, but also for best friends and family as well, but yes... It is Valentine's Day after all ~" he answered her as the two embraced in another kiss again.

"I'll be back, need to get out of this" she gestured to her super suit, walking off into the bedroom and reappeared a second later into a yellow sweater, skinny jeans and white socks.

"Mrs Jones and her husband were the ones who gifted me the box of chocolates, said I should share them with S/H/N since the both of us are a power couple, they also said thank you to both of us for helping them within the last few months" Kara explained, approaching Y/N with a huge smile.

"that's nice of them" he replied as he brought Kara closer to him, her arms outstretched around his shoulders, Kara gave him a long smooch, moaning in his mouth a little.

"Oh! That reminds me ~" he pulled back - "wait here" he rushed off to the bedroom as Kara looked on suspiciously, why did he go off in a rush? Did he forget something?

"I got you 2 things for today!" he shouted from the bedroom as Kara sat down on the couch.

"Oh you did?" she asked.

"Yep" he popped back out with two things wrapped in lead, she scoffed and smiled at the two lead wrapped gifts.

"so that's what you were hiding from me? You wrapped them in lead" she raised an eyebrow, her eyes crossed as she smirked.

"Happy Valentine's Day babe" he approached and handed her the lead wrapped gifts as the two embraced in a loving hug.

"Go on, open em up" he suggested, Kara wasted no time and began unwrapping the first one, she was like a kid on Christmas day when it came to presents, especially since she was like this on Christmas day.

She unwrapped the first one, revealing a delicate box as she immediately knew what it was no thanks to x-ray vision.

"Thank you so much" she hugged his arm and chuckled happily, he chuckled at her cuteness and hugged back.

"now for the second one, you'll love it" he winked, making Kara more curious about the second gift.

She wasted no time unwrapping it and it revealed a special bracelet, she turned it round and looked upon the House of El symbol on the bracelet like she wore on her super suit, her eyes widened as she looked at it, running a finger across it as she was reminded of Krypton.

"aww... This reminds me of the one my dad gave me once when I was little" her voice croaked a little, her smile brightened as she remembered her father.

"Originally, I was planning to give you this on Christmas day, but... The bracelet was unfinished since I was also making something else at the same time. I... Finished it just a month ago while you were on patrol, the bracelet has a special feature" he stood up and offered his hand.

Kara looked at his hand and grabbed it, allowing him to pull her up as she held the bracelet in her hand, he brought her to the middle of the room.

"Put it on, press the symbol and watch the magic happen" he smirked, letting go of her hand as Kara put on the bracelet.

She pressed the House of El symbol as it lit up blue before she started to see a transformation happen on her arms, a blue material went up her arm as it went all over her body.

A red cape extended out as her red skirt appeared with a gold belt with the red and yellow "S" symbol in the middle, red high knee boots appeared on her feet with the signature gold lace around the top.

She looked down at herself as it did its work, her eyes widened as she gasped in happiness, she was now wearing a new super suit, designed by Y/N himself, she looked at the House of El symbol on her chest and couldn't stop smiling, the material of her suit was warm, comfortable and fuzzy like her last one but this one felt more... Flexible and durable.

Her cape had the S symbol as well, all coloured yellow, she examined herself as she had a grin on her face, flaunting her cape around.

"So, you like it?" he asked as she turned to look at him after examining herself, speeding over to him in a flash and kissing him on the mouth.

He melted into her kiss and took it as a hint as she loves it.

"I Looove it Y/N/N! Thank you so much!" she pulled back, very happy with the gift, faces close to each other as their foreheads connected, closing their eyes as they embraced

"You're welcome babe... It Took me months to make ~" he cooed as they looked into each others eyes - "also... The suit is made with tech that I designed using a rare element I found during our time in the 31st century, it's the most strongest and durable material I've ever worked on. The bracelet doesn't just one feature at has a few ~" he explained in detail - "it can detect Kryptonite within a large radius, has its own comms device and you can also use it as a device, including, calling people, messaging, facetime calling and so on, it's like an advanced phone but... Made specifically for you" he added on to his explanation as Kara smiled at the "S" on her chest.

"I love it Y/N, again, thank you so much" she smiled.

"Oh, I forgot to add. It doesn't just have a variation of your new suit... It has a few for different variations of suits for different situations like fighting off someone with Kryptonite, which is bulletproof to Kryptonite bullets, lasers and no more Kryptonite stab wounds, though it might still hurt when it's lasers but you won't feel the effects of the Kryptonite as it protects you, and... If you're ever in the presence of a red sun, the bracelet has a suit that empowers you with yellow sun energy, allowing you to use your powers even when you're on a planet with a red sun" he added more points to the bracelet as Kara kept her smile on him.

"I love it even more ~" she smiled ear to ear, pulling him into a short kiss - "you'll be making one for my cousin right?" she asked with an eyebrow raised.

"Oh yes, I will be, don't worry about that" he replied immediately as the two giggled.

"I can still wear my old suit right?" She asked as he chucked.

"Yeah, you can imprint the suit into the bracelet by touching it, if you want to wear it again~" he answered her question - "and if you hold down the House of El button, you'll be back in civilian clothes again, back to being a disguised, totally normal Human being" he joked.

"Awesome ~" she giggled, she held down the symbol as it did its work, she was back into what clothes she wore before - "but... I love the new suit, I think I'm gonna be wearing it from now on when I'm out as Supergirl" she smiled, kissing him on the cheek after.

Silence fell between them as they looked at each other lovingly.

"remember... How we met for the first time, when I was still a few months new to Earth?" she broke the silence.

"Oh yeah ~" he chuckled - "I remember that day like it was yesterday" he smirked.

* *

*Flashback*

"Hey!" Y/N walked out toward the Girl of Steel, his hands on his head as he was distraught about the damage caused around the area.

"No need to worry, citizen of Metropolis ~" Supergirl had her fists on her hips, performing a superhero pose - "Solomon Grundy has been..."

"My apartment building! ~" Y/N cried out - "Did you do this!? He gestured at his ruined apartment building, which was starting to annoy the short tempered Supergirl.

"Uh, I saved it. You're welcome" she pouted, her arms crossing afterwards.

"Ugh! Where the hell am I supposed to go now? I only moved here a few days ago! Maybe a hotel or something?!" he complained to himself, distraught about the entire situation and he sighed - "maybe it was a bad idea to come here" he thought to himself before sighing.

"Just have your robot servants build you a better place ~" she gestured to the apartment, Y/N cocked an eyebrow, completely confused at what she said - "Or government-issued robots... Construction robots? Regular robots. Any robots?" she added, thinking Earth had this type of advanced technology.

There was a few seconds of silence before Y/N burst out of laughter, the look on her face was priceless.

"haha, no, no ~" he finished laughing, chuckling a little but afterwards as he cleared his throat - "we don't have that type of technology, though I'm sure there is a possibility it could happen in the future, this is the 21st century, we're way beyond that type of robotics at this point in time" he smiled as Supergirl frowned - "what was your planet called again?" he asked her.

"Krypton... It is... Was great, not like this backwards planet" she sighed, looking away.

Y/N's eyebrows sprang up before he frowned - "Hey, I know I shouldn't get mad at you... Since you're... Still new to Earth and us mere Humans" he spoke up, grabbing her attention.

The two looked at each other, eyes upon one another, for a moment, it seemed the two were feeling something strange stir up in them.

"wait a second? Didn't we just meet at the Mall?" he broke the silence between them.

"what? I don't have any idea what you're -" she suddenly stopped speaking as she looked closer, indeed she had already met this boy, he saw her without her glasses after they accidentally bumped into each other.

"u-um" she could only spur out a word as she looked red, feeling awkward about the whole situation.

She thought of flying away but... For some reason, she felt herself glued to the ground upon looking at him.

"haha, don't worry, you're secret is safe with me ~" he smirked - "But... I... Can be your guide about Earth? Y'know? Since its... All backwards for you apparently ~" he suggested - "though I should ask Big Boy Scout over there first before anything" he stepped to the side as Superman was in the middle of a conversation with Batman.

"you would... Be my guide? For me? Why?" she asked, her face frowned.

"Because... I can't imagine what you're going through" he answered.

"And how do you possibly know how I feel!?" she pouted with her voice raised, her arms crossed as she started to get a little frustrated.

"Because I know how it feels to lose a home, to lose people you care about ~" he sympathised with her as her eyes widened a little, she felt a little bad raising her voice at him - "Hey, I understand how frustrating this entire situation is for you, coming to Earth with new powers, learning about a planet that sounds strange, but... Us mere Human's are only a few thousand years into our existence, Earth does have good things, maybe not as good as Krypton but... I promise I'll be your guide and I'll stick by your side, if you want me to" he smiled as Kara was a little flustered and surprised at the offer.

This handsome Human? Wanting to be her guide through Earth? That was something she never thought would ever happen.

-we can trust her, she's -"

-"gentlemen" a voice spoke up.

The two of the World's Finest looked at the boy as he introduced himself.

"Though it is an honour to meet you both, my name is Y/N and I have a question for you Big Blue" he gestured to Superman he raised an eyebrow.

"What's your.. Question sir?" he asked as Y/N smiled.

"I was wondering if... I could teach Supergirl the values of Earth? Show her around through the eyes of a Human, in other words, a guide" he asked the question as the two World's Finest looked at each other.

"can he?" Supergirl approached, standing beside Y/N as she looked at her cousin, hoping he'd agree.

"Well... I can't say no to that look ~" Superman smiled at his cousin - "but I am sure it would be a good idea for her, a change of pace for her to settle in a bit better"

Supergirl grinned happily and hugged Y/N for a brief moment, she recoils back as her cheeks lit up in embarrassment.

*

"and since that day... We started to bond" Kara spoke up.

"Yep, we did" he smiled.

The two kept their bodies close to one another, as they gazed into each others eyes still, completely in love.

"Kara... Ever since the day I met you at l the Mall, and then meeting you again the same day when you were as Supergirl. I've never been so happy in my life, meeting you has been a wildride ~" he started to monologue, his arms outstretched around her hips - "you are the most beautiful, gorgeous, and sweetest but short tempered girl I've ever met in my life ~" Kara giggled at his little remark for her being 'short tempered' - "and I am so happy to be with you and to be your boyfriend ~" he smiled as Kara grinned ear to ear - "coming to this universe, was a nice change of pace for me and after through all the hell I've been through, meeting you was something I never thought possible, I'm so lucky to have you, and to be your guide" he finished.

"aww, that's so sweet of you, and to be honest... Never did I ever think you'd be one of the good points about Earth, I never thought I'd fall in love with you, I was scared about screwing up our friendship we had, and when you admitted your feelings for me, I felt so relieved and now? Spending this day with you? I've never felt so happy" Kara croaked in happiness, the two smashed their lips together, a big long kiss is what they needed.

"I love you, even after the stars die out in the universe" he pulled back to breathe, Kara giggled back before continuing their kiss, with her one and only Valentine...

[nakamurajay]

Jon feels like a child.

He remembers having nightmares when he was younger. How he used to wake up and quickly try to climb out of bed before he even got ahold of his surroundings. The dizziness from having just woken up to falling off the bed in his rush. He remembers leaving his room, hugging himself as he made his way to his parents’ bedroom in search of the warmth and comfort his mother would offer.

Now, he was too old for that. Of course he knew that if he knocked on his parents’ door, they’d let him crawl into their bed and pretend he was seven years old again. But he wasn’t going to worry them, especially since he knew they would want an explanation but wouldn’t understand. Especially since Otho and Osul have also been seeking out Lois and Clark’s comfort so much so that the couple hasn’t slept a single night in the last two weeks without at least one of the twins between them.

So he did the only other thing he could think of: visit Jay.

Sure, Jay might not fully grasp the idea of the multiverse. Of all the different earths and alternative universes and versions of themselves out there. But he did understand what it meant to be held captive. To be tortured and hurt beyond compare. He knew what it was like to have to fear for his life as he attempted to escape from his abductor. This was the understanding he needed.

So Jon grabs his hoodie off the floor, not bothering with putting on a shirt, changing out of his pajama pants or even grabbing his shoes and quietly made his way out the window. He flies all the way to Jay’s apartment building and stops just outside Jay’s bedroom window. The curtains are closed, but he can see Jay fast asleep in bed. He can see his arm hanging off the edge of his bed with his phone on the floor near it. He can see the blanket barely covering Jay’s feet while the rest of it was pooled on the floor. Jay was still wearing his glasses, which have been pushed up to his forehead most likely from the way Jay moved in his sleep.

It was a nice sight for Jon. Almost enough to calm him down from his night terror, and he did consider just going back home and push through his fears on his own. But he just couldn’t.

He reaches out and knocks lightly on the window. When nothing happened, he knocked a little harder. This time, he picks up the way Jay stirred. He watches how Jay doesn’t move just yet, but has already begun waking up. Jon tries again, knocking a bit more insistently.

At that, Jay groans and pushes himself to sit up. He swings his legs over the edge of his bed, which pulls the rest of the blanket down to the floor. He looks down when he feels himself step on his phone. He grabs his glasses and carefully pulls them off, then folds them and places them on his nightstand. He sits for a moment and stares ahead at his wall until he finally hears Jon’s voice.

Jon watches as Jay pushes himself off the bed and clumsily makes his way to the window. He pulls the curtains aside and barely manages a smile as he unlocks the window and opens it. He steps back to allow Jon to crawl through.

“Hello,” Jay’s rough voice greets him. He leans against the wall and looks up at Jon. “What are you doing out so late? Superhero-ing?”

Jon shakes his head. “I…I just wanted to see you, is all.”

“Oh yeah?” Jay says. He clears his throat and stands up at that. He grins and takes a step closer to Jon. Then, he teases, “wanted to see me so bad you couldn’t wait until morning, huh?”

Jon smiles, then, glad that Jay didn’t immediately begin to question if something was wrong. “Of course. You don’t understand how much self restraint I have to have to not come see you more often.”

Jay huffs out a laugh and reaches out to wrap his arms around Jon’s waist. To which Jon automatically responds to by wrapping his around Jay���s shoulders. He pulls Jay in the rest of the way, and hugs him, burying his face in Jay’s neck.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jay asks after a moment. When he feels Jon shake his head, he says: “why don’t we go to bed?”

So they do. Jay holds his hand, leading him over to the bed. He only lets go when he goes to pick up his blanket, which he hands to Jon who’s gets on the bed, and his phone, which he puts on his nightstand by his glasses.

Jon waits for Jay to get on the bed. Watches him get situated on the other side, lying on his side to face Jon. They smile at each other before Jon moves in and cuddles up into Jay’s arms, practically pushing him closer to the edge. He wraps his arms around Jay’s torso and entangles his legs with Jay’s. But it isn’t until Jay presses a kiss to his forehead, and holds onto him tighter, that he finally feels content.

[starry-night-author]

Prompt #16 (Pt. 4)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

@those-damn-snippets @shychick-52

Hero yawned, stretching out on the bed and debating whether or not they should get up to turn the light off. It was late and they would likely fall asleep soon, but they were too tired to get up and switch it off. Besides, they didn't mind it much either.

So they sighed and turned back to the huge flatscreen TV in front of them, getting comfortable on Supervillain's bed.

Supervillain's bed was huge, and it was the most comfortable bed Hero had ever been in. It was low and wide, and absolutely covered in squashy pillows and soft thick blankets. It was a place they never wanted to leave, and they were sure they wouldn't be able to go back to any other bed. It wouldn't even compare to this.

Several minutes passed, and Hero eventually scrambled out, going to switch the light off. They were tired enough that they would likely fall asleep without the extra brightness.

However, just as they straightened up, they looked up to find Supervillain standing right in front of them.

Hero yelped, falling back in bed in surprise. "O-oh!" They exclaimed "I didn't hear you come in! Where were you?"

Supervillain smiled apologetically, reaching out a hand to help Hero up. Hero took it. "There were some heroes looking around for you. I went to tell them to back off and that you're alright."

Hero tilted their head. "Was Superhero there?"

"They were leading the team."

Hero frowned. Why was Superhero so obsessed lately? Ever since they'd learned Hero was dating Supervillain, they were suddenly more interested in Hero's life than they'd ever been. Which was saying something, the two hardly ever interacted before that. "Was there a fight?"

"I managed to prevent one. I know they tried to follow me back, I think I shook them off."

"Hm," Hero stepped around them, headed for the light switch. "I was just about to go to bed, is that okay with you?"

Supervillain smiled warmly at them. "Of course. Mind if I join you?"

Hero grinned, flicking the switch. The room was now lit by the TV screen, and the warm glow of the lamp on the bedside table. "I'd be delighted!"

But they hesitated, thinking. "Look... I've loved this, but I might have to go back soon," they looked up at Supervillain, who's smile was slowly fading. "I don't want them to keep coming after you, and I kind of miss my job."

"You're leaving?" Supervillain frowned, stepping over to them.

"Just going to work," Hero explained with a smile.

Supervillain rested a hand on Hero's shoulder, pulling their partner close. "But... I can support both of us, why would you want to go back?"

"There's not a lot to do here," Hero pointed out. "And I'd still come back, of course! I'd just be going to work like I used to. Besides, I probably owe all of them an explanation."

A flicker of darkness crossed Supervillain's face. "You don't owe them anything."

Hero reached up to gently cup the side of their partner's face. "I don't know, clearly they're worried about me. I could just tell them what's up?"

Supervillain frowned, clearly pouting, and Hero chuckled. "It'd just be how it was before! Except now I know where your place is, I could spend more time here after work?"

"I guess," Supervillain huffed. They ran their hand up Hero's arm, resting it on top of their partner's still, resting against their face. Their other hand on Hero's shoulder strayed up to Hero's neck. "You're really sure you wan't to go back though? Superhero's not going to let it go that easily."

Hero frowned, they had a point. "I know. But I've missed work."

"We can find other things for you!" Supervillain pointed out, pulling them closer. "Stay with me."

"I will, I will." Hero's thumb stroked their cheek, soothingly. "But I don't want to stay inside forever!"

Supervillain blinked, leaning down closer. "Why not?" They murmured. Thinking they were joking, Hero chuckled, but Supervillain's finger moved to shush them. "Shhh... you could stay here, and it'd be just you and me."

Their voice had gone much softer, and Hero was suddenly aware of just how close they were. They were nearly pressed right up against Supervillain's body as their partner gazed down at them. "You and me," they repeated, "here forever. No distractions, no Superhero, we can find better things to do here."

Hero sighed. "I don't-"

"You can come with me on my own missions, you don't need hero ones," Supervillain pointed out, their hand sliding up to cup Hero's cheek. Hero leaned into it, eyes closing as they smiled contentedly. "Stay here with me." Supervillain whispered. "We don't need anyone else."

Hero looked up at them. "I'll think about it."

"Just take this week off?"

A grin. "Sure."

That's when the entire wall of Supervillain's room exploded.

Hero and Supervillain were thrown backwards, Hero's head hitting hard against the nearby wall.

Everything quickly faded to black, before they'd even touched the ground.

Hero woke with a start.

They sat straight up, floundering in bed and gasping for air.

What had just happened? Had that been a dream? Where were they? Where was Supervillain?

Looking around, they found themself laying in a bed in the middle of a bright white room, machines and monitors stacked around them. There were curtains drawn around them, and an occupied chair next to their bed.

Hero blinked, squinting. "...Superhero?"

Superhero grinned sheepishly. "Hey, Hero."

"What's going on? Why are you here? Where's Supervillain?! What happened?"

"You're in the medical wing of the agency headquarters," Superhero explained. "We went to rescue you, and may have been... a little overenthusiastic when trying to get into Supervillain's lair. We didn't mean to hurt you."

Oh no. "Where's Supervillain? Are they okay?"

"They've been taken into custody, they're in the cells a few floors down. We're-"

"What?! You can't do that!" Hero exclaimed, throwing their blankets off. "They-"

"Woah woah woah, hey." Superhero stood, gently pushing Hero back down to the bed. "It's fine, you're safe from them now. You need to stay in bed, you might have a concussion."

"What are you even talking about?!" Hero struggled against them. "I have to make sure they're okay, I-"

"You have to stay here," Superhero stressed. "Supervillain is fine."

"But they're not!" Hero gave up, letting Superhero push them back into bed. "I- they- they had a bad experience once with the agency, and they're going to freak out. I-I have to get to them and tell them they're okay."

Superhero let out a breath, and Hero could see they didn't believe them. "They'll survive. I'm sure they just told you that to further manipulate you-"

"No, I'm serious!"

"Besides they're a supervillain, the reason they're here is their own fault." Superhero pointed out. "What matters right now is making sure you're alright after they kidnapped you."

"I'm fine! And they didn't kidnap me! I-"

Hero broke off as the curtain was suddenly drawn back, and the two heroes looked up to see Other Hero standing there, holding a clipboard. "Oh, am I interrupting?"

Superhero flopped back down in their chair with a sigh. "Yes, but what is it?"

"There's been... a development." Other Hero said cautiously.

"What is it?"

"Supervillain hasn't been captured before, so they're not in our systems. We were just doing all of the scans and background checks and... we discovered something."

"What?" Superhero sounded exasperated.

"Supervillain has powers."

Both Superhero and Hero sat up, surprised. "They what?"

"They have superpowers. Which is really rare, I know, considering their age- you know, powers are much more common among babies now- but we're certain."

"What are their powers?" Hero asked, confused. Supervillain hadn't said a thing about this.

Other Hero let out a breath, clearly hesitated to say what it was.

"...Hypnosis." They said at last. "We're not sure how they do it, but they can hypnotize people into doing what they want."

[writingbyshiloh]

Scary Coincidence

AN: Reader is dressed as Colombia from Rocky Horror Picture Show with the shiny hat. Going to a Halloween party tonight and I’m shaking w excitement. Some of this got messed up when pasting

CW: Drinking, (finally) non-FBI reader, probably should have been putting age gap was a CW bc he's like 50+ in the show, no beta brace yourself

WC: 0.5k

The pub your friends picked was definitely an old man's pub, just somewhere to drink and pass the time before the club you planned to go to opens. You got a few odd looks, with your group's costumes far from a classic Dracula or superheroes. Instead, the looks you got were probably from the amount of exposed skin, and how your specific costume was full of bright colours which, stood out against everyone else dark pallet. You just had to be Colombia, covered in a rainbow of sparkles, from your gold top hat to your feet.  

While some patrons stared at you like you had come from a different planet (which makes your costumes feel even better) no one has made any rude or even borderline comments. You tip well and stay close to each other dishing out workplace gossip. A few of you you sitting on stools by the bar, the rest standing in a semi-circle. , everyone idly keeps an eye on their phones to keep checking the time. 

Hat too hot and itchy you take it off, setting it on the least sticky part of the bar, slightly to your side. The pub is pretty empty so you don't feel too bad about your hat just sitting there. It's not until you go to leave that you notice your hat is gone and in its place is a sleek black fedora. While not the highlight of your costume, it did take you ages to sequins on top and you want it back.  

Scanning the other patrons you look for anyone wearing your hat and hopefully the owner of the black you’re sporting. You told your friends to go ahead without you, you can catch up. It takes you a few walk-throughs, but you spot your tophat sitting on a booth table, surrounded by a few men in various costumes. Finishing the drink in your hand you walk over. 

“Excuse me,” you say, watching everyone in the booth turn to face you “I think you have my hat.” 

The short man dressed as a cop sitting on the outside opens his mouth, probably to tell you to get lost, but the man next to him interjects over him. 

“Would you look at that? I think I do.” he replies, voice smooth and deep. The hat you’re holding certainly matches the dark suit he's wearing. You smile, reaching to swap the hats. He’s older than you but handsome nonetheless while he returns your smile. 

“Please. Allow me to buy you an apology drink.” he says to you, quietly telling the fake policeman next to him “Glenn, move.” 

You step back from the table to give the fake cop - Glenn apparently - space to stand, and for your hat thief to move out of the booth. He unfolds, one hand held out for you to shake. You grab it, probably shaking it a bit too hard. 

“I’m Raymond, and you’re... Columbia?” He asks, gesturing to your costume. He tips his head while gauging your reaction. You huff out a laugh before telling him your actual name. You like how he sounds repeating it. 

“Now, how 'bout that apology drink?” you ask, letting him guide you towards the bar. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"I'm dressed as Raymond Reddington, the FBI's most wanted. My friend there, Glenn, is a cop. Purley his idea, my dear."

"But your real first name is also Raymond?" 

"Lifes full of happy coincidences, like how your hat ended up at my table." 

You can't help the smile on your face, trying to discreetly text your friends you're going to be very very late.