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writeyouin · 8 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X Male-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

GN VERSION HERE

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

So, Lucifer thought himself too good for low-life Sinners such as yourself. That wasn’t fair. Sinners might be in Hell for a reason, but sometimes such reasons were just fucking stupid. Heaven ought to base their entry requirements on a person’s character or strength of heart, not just their actions. You had met plenty of Sinners who were in Hell because of the most trivial shit.

There were those who liked to sleep around, but if sex positivity was a problem, then how did Heaven explain Angels like Adam, whom Charlie had told you about in excruciating detail. Lust shouldn’t have ever been considered a Sin, as long as all participants in any such carnal act were above age and consenting.

Then, there were a few murderers you knew. Granted, murder made the lines blurry, but some Sinners killed in self-defence, or only targeted others such as themselves, protecting the innocent in a very gruesome Dexter-like fashion. Were they really to be condemned? And who the fuck gave a damn about Sloth. So, some people were just bone idle, who gave a shit? Heaven apparently.

And now, the ruler of Hell was condemning those around him as well. He was supposed to care for his people, good or bad. Not to mention those who were solely created for or born in Hell, such as Imps, Hell-Hounds, or the Deadly Sins themselves; they hadn’t committed any crimes to get sent here originally – it was their home.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

No? Didn’t you understand the situation? He was Lucifer. King of Hell. He could destroy you with no effort spared, leaving no trace that you ever existed, and you were telling him no? He wasn’t an unreasonable guy, but how could you possibly think that being around him was a good idea? Did you respect Charlie more than you feared him? Granted, he didn’t go out much so few knew how powerful he was, but no other Sinner would dare deny him his wishes.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“Look, I’m only here ‘cos Charlie thought it was a good idea, and if you genuinely hate me, I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again, but you’re not even trying right now. You haven’t spoken to me. You don’t know anything about me, and frankly, I think Charlie’s right, you do need someone to talk to.”

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

“You don’t even know why I’m down here,” You interrupted angrily, though you refrained from raising your voice. “And you don’t want to know, right? ‘Cos all of us filthy Sinners must be the same. Ooh, we squandered your gift of Free Will and now we deserve to suffer for eternity, do we? Grow up!”

Lucifer stared at you in astonishment, and you sighed, apparently not finished in your tirade, “I’m going to my room tonight, but tomorrow, I expect that you’ll at least try to tolerate me. Who knows? We might even find some common ground. We both love Charlie, don’t we?”

Lucifer didn’t know what to say to that. He certainly loved his daughter, more than anything else in the universe, but you? He still suspected that you had some kind of ulterior motive… everyone in Hell did. Yet, you had a point. He would do this for her, even if it meant he had to tolerate you.

Who were you, really?

He looked at you closely for the first time, trying to pick out some detail of who you might have been. It was even more disturbing than he previously thought. Before, he only saw a human. Now, he examined your clothes. There was little to say about the style, but your apparel was reminiscent of a Holy Animal. With the ruffled cuffs of your jacket, the way the back peaked to create the image of feathers, and the yellow ribbon that lined the white material, you looked like a dove.

Yet… Despite living in the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie had insisted that you didn’t seek redemption. Why go through the farce of dressing like an Angel then… unless? No, you couldn’t be. No Angel would dare stray from Heaven unless they were ordered to.

Lucifer held back a glower, trying to keep his emotions in check so you wouldn’t sense his thoughts. There was a possibility, though small that you had been sent by the likes of Adam to spy on Lucifer and his kin, ensuring that none of Charlie’s patrons ever found a way to the Pearly Gates.

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

When you returned to your room, you got ready for bed. The day had been long and unusual. Honestly, you didn’t feel that you had a place in the manor, and you longed for your room in the Hotel, even if it was smaller, had a large stain on the carpet (which Nifty had named Vivienne) and an unruly infestation of roaches.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You would miss the arguing inhabitants, the energetic wake-up call from Charlie, the feeling of safety that Vaggie instilled, and the sound of Alastor’s morning and evening radio broadcasts. Yet, you hoped you might find something equally valuable in return if only Lucifer would open himself up to the possibility that you didn’t want anything from him.

After glancing out of your window, which had a balcony you could step out to if you so wished, you took in the whole of the Magne District which was the heart of Pentagram City. If you strained your eyes, you could just see the flashing neon of the Hazbin Hotel, and if you turned your gaze up… There was Heaven, out of reach yet always in sight, taunting most Sinners, yet emboldening a brave few who dared to wonder What If? What if they could change and gain admittance to a better life?

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

You rested your head atop the satin pillows, then frowned, feeling a lump beneath it. You reached under and pulled out a rubber duck, painted to look like a Hellhound-Duck hybrid. Assuming it was one of Charlie’s childhood toys, you placed it carefully atop the table; it would keep you company on your first night in a strange new place.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

Before being cast out of Heaven, detecting an Angel would have been a simple task. He would just know, the way he now knew how to read a Demon. Yet, with you giving off little sign of Demonic energy, he now had to test if you were of Angelic origin. There were two ways he could do so. The first was by spilling your blood. Those who were born in or sent to Heaven had golden ichor instead of the oozing red or black goop of Hell-spawn and Sinners.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

Once he was inside your room and certain that you were in a deep slumber, he reverted to his original form, standing over you, his pupils turning to slits at the thought of a traitor in his house. If you were what he thought you to be, he would kill you immediately.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Lucifer’s expression changed from one of deep-seated loathing to confusion. You weren’t from Heaven. If you were, the stone would have glowed a brilliant shade of Gold. Instead, it remained its original dull yellow.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“Uh…” Was all he could think to say as he entered the kitchen and found you clinging to one of the snake cleaners he had created the previous night, in a rodeo-like fashion. The creature was trying to buck you off, with a somewhat derpy expression, probably stupidly assuming it was a game; Lucifer hadn’t bothered to instil them with much intelligence since he didn’t need them for anything more than cleaning.

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

He waved his hands energetically, his outfit transforming from his usual suit to one befitting a flashy Michelin Chef. He was comfortable in the role of an entertainer as he made a dazzling display of cooking up eggs. With the flash-bang of indoor fireworks, the island counter gained a conveyor belt to transport several dishes, all perfectly presentable and giving off a delectable aroma of herbs and spices.

Eggs-benedict, frittatas, and shakshuka shot by you, closely followed by a hungry Span, though his twin was busy writhing on the conveyer belt, trying to get to his feather duster, yet doomed to chase it since he didn’t think to travel in the opposite direction so it would meet him in the middle.

The sight was memorable to say the least, even when Spick knocked the food onto the floor and his brother was left stupidly sucking on the corner of the countertop where his seemingly new favourite dish had splattered.

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

The smile fell from your face as you realised that all of this was just another of Lucifer’s acts. Granted, he might have actually had fun with it, but it was all just in the name of claiming he had tried to be around you, and just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

Lucifer’s mood soured as he thought about visiting Heaven’s embassy to set up the meeting for Charlie. He hated everything about that building. The décor was just a cruel reminder of everything Heaven had banished him from. Moreover, while the Angels had to respect his power, they didn’t respect him; their cruel words and thinly veiled insults always cut him the deepest. Not to mention how bitter he was that the balance of power was uneven. Sure, Heaven had an embassy in Hell, but there was no such building in Heaven where Demons could work to arrange meetings between Angels and him.

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

Lucifer guessed at your game. You probably hadn’t been going in that direction at all, but this was all in the name of ‘trying’. One way or another, he would have to learn to get along with you.

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

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crying-fantasies · 11 months

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In acceptance

Masterlist

Part 1 | part 2

"So you aren't from the stars?" Jazz almost laughs, he chooses to keep silence while smiling, maybe a snicker did get out of his voice box, looking at you and some telescope he helped to get back together, at first you didn't tell him why you wanted it so bad, but then you said: "I want to see your home"

He was happy with youru enthusiasm, still, he didn't want to see sadness overwhelm your happy face if, naturally, youdidn't find it, "Cybertron isn't there, sweetspark", and that's how your question came to be, so he had to explain.

"Cybertron is pretty far, far away" the idea made him sad, moving his servos to put more distance, make his point present and for distraction of your sadness, "we can't see it from here"

"Not even with this?" You showed him your little telescope, Jazz kept on his smile, running a digit on your little head, you were trying to make him smile, truly do it.

"If my ol' pal Percy was here, I'm more than sure he would've loved to show you", you made a little sound, hands on his armor and almost climbing on him, Jazz let you do your do, it wasn't the first time you did it and he learned to put his servos at a certain distance to prevent any accident, he was grateful in the way you shook your shoes before putting them on his armor.

"Percy seems to be a good bot", you took seat with ease, recharging on his mid section, he could feel your warm body, how you kept on looking at the sky.

"Indeed", he helped you, using a digit to direct you to the correct way, Cybertron may be hundreds of light years away but that was the correct direction.

One he still remembers and will possibly never forget.

"Do you miss your home?" The lense was now directed at him, you got him thinking, he did miss Cybertron, but the Cybertron from before war.

He wasn't going to tell you about gruesome war details, you were a being born and raised in moderate peace, Optimus would never let you or other humans be tainted by their war if he could do something about it first.

But it was happening already.

"I do, there I had a big habsuit unit with all my favorite instruments"

"Like your electric bass"

"Like my Aghartan electro bass, uhum, I'd many, an' sometimes I had time to play some, play with the cords and even reunite with friends to make music together"

It was easy, talk to you have always been easy and comfortable once the usual screaming died down, you were little then, young even to human standard, full of curiosity for the world around you and the one Jazz told you about, a world full of mechs like and unlike him, "some angry like Ratchet?" "Some like Ratch, but don't call him that, he'll get sad", and all the great things his people did, every great invention done to improve the life of every bot around "Like what Wheeljack did yesterday?" "Yes, but without the fire and the explosion"

You were full of questions he was willing to answer and you were full of attention and understanding he was grateful to have, more than once Jazz thought he was kind of making you see things way too different, in some way? He wasn't sure, but it was endearing when you tried to give him a rusting piece of metal after he told you about how he liked rust sticks and how those were famous snacks back in Cybertron.

Jazz couldn't consume it, Ratchet would be nagging at him endlessly if he consumed rust of a metal stick that has been who-knows-where, but he was grateful nonetheless.

Time moved on, because that's what it does, Jazz left you for what seemed to be a few days, like you called it, and when he came back you weren't little anymore, well, you were indeed little, but not as he remembered while he used his servo to compare how you changed, but you didn't let him do more than use his scanner and HUD while getting away from his most physical iterations.

"Nice upgrades there" you looked embarrassed, he wasn't sure why, you had little things on your face which you tried to cover, you didn't have those before, "a nice surprise to be sure", you looked mortified by his words and he should've been prepared for your hormone induced changes and how to handle them without previous preparation, he wasn't like that when his armor first formed, but hey, everyone rolled different.

"Don't lie, this is horrible" you truly disliked your upgrades, and he tried to understand your point of view, he holds a digit to you and your response was almost instantaneous, little hands taking his servo, looking puzzled when you saw a little thing on it, "What is this?"

"Just a lil' something, a comm' line specially for you, so that we can talk al' night long" he pointed to his audials, and you took the thing to your ear, at that very same moment he took on his wheels and put some distance, you looked confused for a moment but then you heard his voice directly on your ear, "I missed you, sweetspark"

Your face was red, and Jazz laughed softly at your wide eyes, looking at his alt-mode almost mesmerized, shiny by tears he knew, and hoped, were of happiness, "Happy 20 earth orbital cycles".

Your laugh made him laugh, even when you didn't do it as much as before, at least you smiled for him and he could hear your happiness from the communicator.

It was brightness in all it's splendor, a moment he wanted to preserve on his databank for eternity, knowing full well, even among all his positiveness, that someone will come and take it away from his servos mercilessly.

Just like he thought it did happen, but little by little, and he didn't have time nor response to cover you in time, things got darker, uglier by every mean, and he didn't want you dragged in between all the spilled energon and blood dripping from his servos, but taking distance wasn't enough, it was never enough, everything they touched, everything their war touched was indeed bound to be destroyed in front of them, in front of him, and even when Jazz wasn't there to see for himself you being ripped from life he felt it, silence filling the space around him, making difficult even his movement, radio silence and interference that he tried to keep away with every song you've said you loved in front of him or at least hummed near him, always being mindful of you and in what you could talk next time he saw you or got to call you.

But now he couldn't reach you, all he had was music, songs to fill the void, and oh boy, does he has a very long masterlist, all thanks to you, but is your very same existence that got the silence there, like a menacing presence waiting for the pause in between the words to drag him down again.

When he was a younger spark Jazz liked to think that things, even in the worst days, could take a turn for the better, well, on those days the worst that could happen to him was a disgruntled mech trying to make a ruckus in the streets and his job was to take care of it as the police, or the days he forgot to pay a bill, something that at the moment was almost extenuating or stressing at worst, daydreaming about being a musician.

Now, those things were like jokes when he finally returns to earth's surface, looking at the devastation around, at the bodies or frames lacking of life or spark, everything was consumed and, at the end, destroyed with their killer.

He helps with the reconstruction, he wants to get his servos to work, filling on hope and hang there for dear life, with time Primus does have mercy on him and he gets hope, finding friends he thought were now lost, humans and bots alike, he is happy while he moves with the group of founded people and bots that is getting bigger with time, helping move the debris away in search for more survivors or to mourn whoever they find too late.

It's not until he gets near your house that his hope, once again, faltered and also incremented, he has been in this place so many times, be it die or dead missions searching for cons, be it little escapades with you sleeping soundly over his chassis on his alt-mode while music is playing or singing.

Be it just looking at the few stars on the polluted sky.

Is a place full of memories, some that attack him even when he doesn't want them now, not when he gets a distress signal being showed on his internal computer, almost making him go back by the surprise, last thing he thought to see when he put a pede on your city was to get a distress signal from you communication device, the very same one he gave you years ago.

He doesn't listen, Jazz is a bot with a mission once again when he gets to where the distress signal in coming from, it's weak, almost not existing, but he holds on hope for dear life itself again while his servos get the debris away, shouting out your name and expecting you to call out for his designation.

Still, when his friends get to him is to take him away, telling him that it's fine when his servo circuits are again so weak Jazz can't get back on his pedes by himself, searching for strength to raise again in Ironhide's arms that are holding him when all he finds is the almost off-lined gadget, destroyed beyond repair, finally giving up it's last energy after being found and ceasing any signal.

It was nothing more than a wish, a prayer, that he would find you, and yet again he can't bring himself to smile when he has to look at his group, he feels tired, he feels so tired while looking at all the destruction and he doesn't know if he can keep going.

"Jazz?"

In all honesty, he thinks his brain module really got damaged when he hears your voice, maybe he has really lost it to this point, just like Prowl told him he would when he got back to earth with a goal on mind, "Numbers don't look good" Prowl has always been direct with this, with him, and it's something Jazz has come to accept and be grateful for because his friend does care, "don't rise your hopes too high" he told Jazz before he smiled back at him, the light on his visor weak enough to be blow off like a candle.

"Hope is the last thing you lose, Prowler"

"Jazz, are you okay?!" You are covered in wounds, dirt and one of your eyes is almost painted red and purple around, one of your arms looks out of place with the group of survivors that looked in the same damaged state, there is dried blood on you and Jazz reminds himself to be careful, to not scare you away like the last time he saw you.

He is running away from Ironhide's grip, who let's him go happily, Jazz is indeed careful, like he has always been with you, but that doesn't stop him from raising you in the air and bring you close with a hug, shielding you from the world with his whole body, to who is he saying never endings thank you's is still a mystery to you, but you still feel every word with his intake pressed to your head while one servo holds it there and the other presses you to his chassis.

You do hug him back, at least with the last good arm you have, and that's what makes you cry in relief and makes him hug you harder.

In the cannon continuity Jazz's human indeed dies, being one of the victims of Unicron and it's Maximals army, Jazz does find what was left and the communicator he gave as a gift, he stays on earth like the comic and tries to cherish the past with friends that he has lost.

In this continuity, in this AU! Jazz is happy, he is reunited with his human that later on is his conjunx, he is creator of three younglings and still very much in love with his conjunx, Jazz gets his happy ending in my AU! Because I adore him and because he deserves it.

#reader insert #x reader #angst #tf mtmte #transformers x reader #transformers #transformers idw #idw transformers #transformers x human reader #idw jazz #g1 jazz #jazz x human reader #jazz x reader #tf jazz

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mizusswordtip · 2 months

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Down The Rabbit Hole ⚝ Killian Jones x Reader (18)

find the story on wattpad

summary: Alice's plan to overthrow the Queen of Hearts is thwarted by a dashing pirate with a hook. Years later, after the curse is broken, they reunite once again.

masterlist

We'd been walking for what feels like hours when Hook, who's been leading us, calls out over his shoulder.

"Up ahead. We'll find the compass just over the ridge." I give him a nod to continue walking which he returns. Emma and Snow catch up to me.

"Do you get the feeling he's leading us exactly where Cora wants us? That this whole thing's a trap?" Snow whispers conspiratorially. I purse my lips, having been wondering the same thing the whole time. If she'd asked me yesterday, I would've jumped on that bandwagon without hesitation but... it doesn't make much sense.

"It's defiantly a trap." Emma concurs without hesitation.

"I'm not so sure." I murmer over my shoulder. Emma looks at me in disbelief.

"What? Don't tell me you trust him?" She asks, brows furrowed. Before I can answer she fires off another question. "How do you even know him?"

"He was in Wonderland. Cora forced him to blackmail me into leaving Wonderland." I explain shortly, not having time to get into the nitty gritty of the details.

"So why should we trust him?" Emma asks rhetorically with a suggestive raise of her brow.

"We shouldn't. But... I have a feeling that he's not loyal to Cora." I explain. Despite my own gripes with Hook (selfish, killer, pirate, thief) he doesn't strike me as someone who'd willingly align himself with Cora unless backed into a corner. Or maybe I'm just trying to see the good in him when there may be none. "But keep your guard up regardless." Hook comes to a stop at the tree line. I walk up to stand beside him and let out a heavy sigh at the sight in front of me. A giant beanstalk that reaches up to the clouds.

"Let me guess. The compass is up there?" I ask with a knowing look at Hook.

"Oh yeah." He answers, sending a sly smirk in my direction.

"So we climb?" I ask through an accepting sigh.

"It's not the climb you need to worry about. It's the giant at the top." He informs. I look at the others who look at the beanstalk with differing levels of concern. I take one last deep breath.

"Let's go then."

It only takes us another five minutes to reach the base of the beanstalk. Somehow, it looks even more daunting up close. I shield my eyes with my hand from the sun as I look up.

"It's a little freakier than I remember from the story." Emma comments.

"Reminds me of death." Mulan mutters to herself. My brows furrow.

"Encouraging." Snow snarks.

"A beanstalk reminds you of death?" I can't help but ask. Hook looks to all of us with a sarcastic smile.

"Well, your compass awaits. Shall we?" He asks with a wave of his arm.

"Wait. If these beans create...portals, why not just pick one and go home? Why the compass?" Emma asks.

"I imagine if there were beans, Cora would have used one already." I surmise with a shrug. Hook looks at me and smirks.

"Right you are love, there are no more. Whatever story you think you know is most certainly wrong." He tells Emma.

"There was a guy named Jack and a cow and something about evil giants with treasure and a golden goose." She explains poorly. What does a golden goose have to do with giants? Is the goose a gold color or is it literally gold? "Or harp." She mutters under her breath.

"Sounds like a lovely tale. But the truth's a little more gruesome. The giants grew the beans, but rather than use them for good, they used them to plunder all the lands. Jack and his men fought a terrible war, defeating all but one of the evil giants. The beans were destroyed by the giants as they died. If they couldn't have the magic, then nobody could. Certainly very bad form." Hook says. As he explains, the more this story sounds familiar to me. My father used to tell it to me when I was a little girl. I remember calling the giants 'villains' and my father correcting me. Told me that the victors get to tell the story, not necessarily the heros.

"Why doesn't anyone just go up and grow some more?" Emma asks.

"Because one giant survived. One that even Jack couldn't slay." I repeat my father's words. Hook nods at me in confirmation.

"And we'll have to get past him to..." He starts.

"The magic compass." I finish.

"Indeed. The treasure remains, and amongst it is the compass. Now it will guide us to your land. Cora has the means to open a portal with the wardrobe ashes, but she can't find your land without the compass. Once we get it, we steal the ashes from her, then we're on our way." I almost laugh. He makes it sound so easy. As if we can simply pickpocket the ashes off Cora.

"How do we know you're not just using us to get the compass for Cora?" Mulan asks suspiciously. He looks at her for a moment before turning his gaze to me.

"I already told you why." Comes his answer. His gaze is so intense, hard to look away from. There's something unspoken in his gaze that I can't read. I turn away from him to face the beanstalk.

"Then we better start climbing." I say, starting to head for the beanstalk when Hook's voice stops me.

"Right, so, I failed to mention that the giant enchanted the beanstalk to repel intruders." I stop and clench my jaw. I turn to look at him over my shoulder with an unimpressed look.

"So are we meant to fly up?" I ask sarcastically. He gives me an amused smile.

"No love. I've got a counter spell from Cora." He says, pointing to the cuff on his wrists before holding his bound hands out. "If you'd be so kind." I walk up to him with a sigh, taking the dagger out of my boot. I grab the ropes and cut them with little trouble. I make the mistake of looking up and seeing the soft expression on his face that I'm pretty sure I wasn't meant to see. "Thank you." He says, sounding genuine. What the hell is going on? It's hard to believe he's being genuine after what he's done to me and who he's working with. Could he actually be genuine? I turn away with a swift nod of my head. "I've got one more of these. Alice and one other can come along." My head snaps in his direction, breaking me out of my wandering thoughts.

"I thought you said you only had one other?" I ask. He points down to my sword.

"Yes but that sword you're holding wards off all magic so you don't need a fancy cuff." He explains. I sigh and then look to the others.

"You guys need to decide who then." I tell them with a sigh before turning my attention to the sky.

"Go on, fight it out. Don't be afraid to, you know, really get into it." Hook says sarcastically before turning his attention to me. "Afraid of heights?"

"No. I was imagining what it'd be like to fly." I say before looking over at him. My words are only half a lie. I'm not afraid of heights and I was thinking about what it'd be like to fly. My concern is over whether or not my body can handle the climb. Despite feeling a lot better than before, I'm still malnourished enough that passing out is a possibility. He looks like he wants to push further but simply nods his head, accepting.

"Ladies, in this world we are slaves to time, and ours is running out. In other words, tick tok." Hook says to the others. I look over to see Emma approaching, which doesn't surprise me. I give her a small smile that she returns as Hook places the cuff on her arm.

"I'm glad you're coming along." She tells me.

"Why's that?" I ask with a little laugh.

"Well if I trust anyone to kill a giant, it's the dragon slayer." She says with a raised brow and a smile.

"Actually, it's called a Jabberwocky." Hook corrects lightheartedly.

"That's not- not this time." I stumble over my words but he understands what I'm saying if his raised brows are anything to go by. I smile smugly before starting the climb up the beanstalk.

#killian jones #killian jones fic #killian jones smut #killian jones ouat #killian jones imagine #killian jones x oc #killian jones x reader #once upon a time #ouat #captain hook

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strangerstilinski · 1 year

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SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter three - - chapter four - - chapter five

fic summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

chapter word count; 9,804

chapter notes; scott has a disturbingly realistic nightmare that he can't seem to get out of his head. lydia gives her best shot at playing matchmaker. something about big bad derek just doesn't seem to add up and amber sets off to figure him out for herself.

masterlist

c h a p t e r f o u r

pack mentality

Sandwiched between Stiles and Scott, Amber walked up the concrete path to the school building, pulling her backpack straps tighter around her shoulders as she listened to Scott recount the vivid dream he'd had the night before.

"I'm serious, you guys. It was an actual nightmare-" He explained, "In the dream I couldn't control my shift and we were locked inside a school bus.. Allison was trying to get away but.. There was so much blood.." Scott shook his head as if trying to eject the memory from his brain and Amber lifted a hand to give him a sympathetic pat on the back.

Stiles wrenched open the large metal doors to the building when the trio reached them, "So you killed her?"

"I don't know, I just woke up," Scott said as he and Amber entered the school, stepping past where Stiles was holding the door open for them, "And I was sweating like crazy.. And I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before-"

"Really?" Stiles questioned with a grin, a look of satisfaction taking over his face at the innuendo, "I have. Usually ends a little differently.." He wrapped an arm around Amber's shoulders as they walked down the hallway and pulled her into his side with a laugh, "What about you, Am? You ever had one of these dreams? With the heavy breathing and the sweating and the-"

She turned slightly into Stiles' side beneath his arm, pressing her fingertips against his lips to stop the rambling. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she her mind drifted to the dream she'd had the week before that has featured Stiles himself, from which she'd woken up breathing heavily and coated in a sheen of sweat. She looked into his wide eyes as they continued down the hallway with slow steps and she remembered the moment in her dream just before she'd gasped herself awake, the moment that Stiles' warm brown eyes had locked with hers just before she'd come.

After what was probably a moment too long, she removed her hand from his mouth, "Yes, Stiles. I've had a sex dream before. You're hilarious."

"Wh- Really?" He sputtered, "About who?"

She took a pointed step to the side to put some space between Stiles and herself and his arm fell from her shoulders to hang limply at his side again as they picked their pace back up. She was saved from having to dodge the question herself when Scott interjected.

"A, I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real. And B, never give me that much detail about either of you in bed again."

Stiles sighed a long-suffering sigh at the change in topic but surrendered, "Noted. Let me just take a guess here-"

"No," Scott interrupted, "I know you both probably think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm gonna lose it and rip her throat out."

"Of course not-" Stiles began, cut off when Amber spoke over him.

"Noo.." She drew out the word with sarcasm.

Stiles gave in first, "Yeah, that's totally it." At Scott's dejected sigh, he continued, "Hey, listen, it's gonna be fine, alright?"

Amber nodded, patting Scott on the shoulder, "I think you're doing pretty well, all things considered-"

"She's right. I mean, personally, I think you're doing pretty frickin' amazingly, you know? It's not like there's a Lycanthropy For Beginners class you can take." Stiles joked.

"Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher..” Scott hinted, gauging for his friend's reactions.

"I think it's probably the best idea you've had since-" Amber started.

Stiles looked between them with wide eyes, "Who, Derek?" He reached around to hit Scott in the back of the head and used his other to smack Amber in her shoulder, "You both forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?" Stiles exclaimed, his voice loud as they moved through the crowded hallway.

Scott raised his own voice in response, "Yeah! I know but-"

"I will not be settled with equal blame in that. I still think we should've at least talked to the guy before-" Amber's voice was drowned out as Scott continued to speak.

"-Chasing Allison, dragging her to the back of the bus, it all felt so real."

"How real?" Stiles asked, opening a set of side-doors that led out to the courtyard and leading Amber through as Scott followed them a step behind.

"Like it actually happened," Scott said as they stepped out to the paved area that held outdoor tables and a smaller parking lot. When his two friends came to an abrupt stop, Scott walked straight into Amber from behind and stumbled. He caught himself with a hand on her shoulder before stepping up to stand beside her. His friends' eyes were trained ahead of them, mouths open in shock and Scott looked to what had caught their attention.

There was blood everywhere.

A school bus had its rear emergency door hanging loosely from the hinges, dozens of bloody streaks and handprints marked up the yellow paint. There were uniformed deputies rushing around the taped-off crime scene, taking photographs and swabbing surfaces for evidence.

"I-I think maybe it did." Amber said quietly as her hands began to shake.

The three tumbled back into the school building in a rush to check for any sign of Allison. Scott looked panicked and Amber wrapped a hand around his bicep as she raced to keep up with the boys who were both taller than her, her mind quickly spiraling in fear.

"She's probably fine!" Stiles assured them, not quite managing to keep the nerves out of his own voice.

Scott reached into his pocket to pull out his cell phone, desperately checking it for new messages before squeezing it tightly in his hand and putting it back. His voice was strained as he turned to look at his friends, "She's not answering my texts, you guys-"

Amber took a deep breath, unable to speak. She squeezed Scott's arm in her hand and looked to Stiles on her other side with wide eyes.

"It could just be a coincidence, alright?" Stiles said as they continued to scour the hallway for any sign of Allison, "A seriously amazing coincidence."

"What deity did we piss off to earn this much chaos in only two weeks, anyway?" Amber breathed. Her hands were still shaking, but the one gripping onto Scott's bicep felt slightly more controlled.

"Just- Help me find her. Okay?" Scott pleaded with them, his feet still moving quickly as he raced down the hall.

They'd covered the entire east wing of the school without a glimpse of the girl and when they reached an unoccupied row of lockers, Scott tugged himself out of Amber's grip to brace himself against them. He dropped his forehead to one of the cool metal doors and his hands came up on either side of him. He was breathing heavily, in a scarily similar way to when he was on the lacrosse field, just before he had lost control and tried to kill them in the locker room.

"Scott?" Amber asked softly. She had begun to take a step closer when Stiles pulled her back gently with a hand on her shoulder.

She and Stiles watched as Scott breathed harshly for a few moments before Scott suddenly stood upright, tightening his right hand into a fist and punching the door of the locker. The force behind it put a deep, hand-sized dent in the metal, bending it at an angle that had the lock disengaging and sent the locker door swinging open slightly, hanging sadly from its hinges.

Scott took another deep breath, backing away from the destruction while he and Amber both looked around at their peers, checking if anyone had seen or heard his episode, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

When Scott rushed down the hallway, Stiles used the hand still gripping Amber's shoulder to guide her in the other direction, "He needs a minute to calm down, Am."

"Yeah, and we need to help him-" She started, trying to step away but his grip was firm as he pulled her in the opposite direction.

"You and I aren't gonna be much help if we end up in a situation like last week and he manages to actually kill us this time," Stiles argued, "We'll keep looking- Give him a while to calm down, and then we'll regroup, okay?"

"I- Yeah," She deflated, "No, you're right."

Satisfied that she wasn't about to rush off to follow after Scott, Stiles released her and gave her back full autonomy of her body as they approached her locker. After she'd packed away her things and collected her books for English, the two made their way to Stiles' locker so that he could do the same. All the while they kept their eyes peeled for the Argent girl, but didn't manage to find any sign of her in the hallways.

When Amber slid into her desk in front of Stiles, she sighed at the two empty seats in the row to the right of them. She turned around in her seat to face Stiles and kept her shaky voice low in an attempt at privacy, "What if it was real and Allison is-"

"-Walking in the room with Scott right now," Stiles finished her sentence, nodding toward the front of the classroom.

Amber spun forward again so quickly she only narrowly avoided sweeping all of her books onto the floor, but Stiles was right. Allison was walking into the room with her usual soft smile on her face, certainly not looking like she had been mauled by a werewolf the night before, and Scott trailed just a couple of steps behind her.

When Scott slid into his seat, Amber leaned slightly over the arm of her desk to lessen some of the space between them, shooting him a glare, "Would a text have killed you?" She hissed, "I'm pretty sure I was only a few minutes away from an aneurysm from stress."

"Sorry." Scott shrugged, not looking entirely sorry, as he smiled gratefully at the back of Allison's head.

"Unbelievable." Amber leaned back into her seat muttering. Despite her words, she felt a wave of relief rush over her with the knowledge that Allison was okay. As her back came to rest in her seat fully for the start of class, she felt Stiles reach across his desk to squeeze her shoulder softly. She tilted her head to the side and pressed her cheek to the back of his warm hand for a moment before sitting up a little in her seat.

Everything was fine.

By the time third period came around, the sick feeling in Amber's gut had returned. Even though Allison was safe, there was still a crime scene in the back parking lot along with a bloodsoaked school bus, Scott had still dreamt that he'd been there the night before, and someone or something had lost a concerning amount of blood.

Scott turned around to face where his friends sat at the sideways tables behind him, "Maybe it was my blood on the door," He suggested quietly.

Amber shrugged in response while she continued to copy down the equation that Mr. Harris was writing up on the chalkboard.

"Could have been animal blood," Stiles interjected, fiddling with the pencil in his hand, teeter-tottering it back and forth rapidly between his middle and forefinger, "Y'know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something."

Scott frowned in confusion, "And did what?"

"Ate it." Stiles said simply.

Amber snorted quietly, glancing up to the front of the room to ensure their teacher hadn't heard it. Mr. Harris was still facing the blackboard, so she felt safe enough to whisper back to her friends, "Gross, Scott. You ate a rabbit?" She questioned gleefully.

"What and I ate it raw?" Scott asked.

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven." Stiles glared, annoyed. Amber laughed quietly again as he continued, "I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything."

"Mr. Stilinski," Harris' voice rang out with its usual amount of irritation, "If that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while." Amber looked back at her notes, face flushing in mortification, and she heard Stiles huff a nervous laugh, "I think you, Mr. McCall and Miss Callisto would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No-" Stiles protested immediately.

Mr. Harris glared from behind his small, black framed glasses and pointed to an empty seat at the far end of the classroom, and another at a table in the front. Stiles and Scott both huffed, but collected their things none the less and moved to their respective new seats. Amber remained in her seat, avoiding the amused gaze of the classmate she shared her table with.

"Hey! I think they found something!" The girl sitting beside Scott suddenly yelled, rushing to the window overlooking the back parking lot.

Every student in the classroom followed suit and ran to the wall of windows. Amber pushed through to the front of the room and hovered just behind Scott and Stiles, peeking over their shoulders to see the person being carted toward an ambulance on a gurney.

"That's not a rabbit," Scott stated quietly.

The old man on the gurney suddenly sat upright and attempted to pull away from the paramedics. He screamed and all the students hovering by the windows flinched back in surprise. The backward movement of the boys in front of her had her tripping over her own feet and Amber's hands went to Stiles' waist to steady herself.

Scott backed away from the scene slowly with a horrified look on his face. Amber and Stiles immediately followed after him and went to their friend's side.

"Guys, what-" Amber swallowed past a lump in her throat, unable to finish her question. She looked to Stiles with wide eyes, hoping he might have something to say to make the situation seem less dire.

"This is good!" Stiles said, "This is good." He repeated, looking back and forth between his friend and the windows, "He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that." Stiles let out a long breath.

"You guys.. I did that." Scott whispered.

"Hey, listen. We don't know for sure that you did anything." Amber assured Scott again. She settled her lunch tray over her forearm and reached out to rub Scott's arm encouragingly as they made their way to an empty table.

"Dreams aren't memories." Stiles agreed in a whisper.

"Then it wasn't a dream." Scott countered, setting his tray down on a table, "Something happened last night and I can't remember what."

Scott grabbed a seat, throwing his sweatshirt into the empty chair beside him. Stiles pulled out his own seat across the table and Amber settled herself into the one to the right of Stiles.

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" Stiles asked in defeat.

"Well to start, he was fine on the full moon-" Amber started.

"Yeah," Scott agreed, "He was in total control on a full moon while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."

"You don't know that." Stiles reiterated to their friend.

"I don't not know it!" Scott said, leaning forward into his lunch tray as he spoke. "I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel-"

"No." Stiles interjected, "You're not canceling, okay?"

Amber frowned, unsure when Stiles had taken this stance on Scott's love-life, but wanting to reassure him all the same.

"The next full moon isn't for another two weeks," Amber stated, "So, you'll be fine tomorrow, and then after you've gone on your amazingly perfect date, we'll work on your control. By the time the full moon comes around, you'll be totally fine."

"Yeah. You can't just cancel your entire life. We'll figure it out." Stiles agreed.

"Figure what out?" Lydia's voice cut in. The girl dropped her lunch tray down beside Scott's and fell gracefully into the seat across from Amber.

Stiles huffed out a surprised breath, looking at Amber as if she might know why the strawberry blonde was joining their table at lunch.

"Uh-" Scott said dumbly.

"Just homework." Amber smiled, reaching to grab a chicken tender from Stiles' plate and beginning to rip it into tiny pieces over her salad.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed loudly before turning to whisper in Amber's ear, "Why is she sitting with us?"

Amber shrugged in response just as the rest of the empty seats at their table were suddenly being filled. A guy Amber didn't know very well from the lacrosse team sat at the head of the table between Lydia and herself. Danny Mahealani settled into the seat on the other side of Stiles. Allison went to the seat beside Scott, pausing while he collected his sweatshirt from the table so that she could set her tray down.

"Thanks," Allison said to him with a smile.

"Get up." Jackson's voice cut in harshly, glaring at the boy sitting beside Amber.

The boy floundered for a moment, "How come you never ask Danny to get up?" He questioned, pointing to where Danny was sitting a few seats away.

"Because," Danny interjected, pointedly looking at the way the boy's eyes were glued to Lydia's chest, "I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot."

The boy pulled his eyes away from the redhead in embarrassment and huffed, quickly grabbing his tray and rushing off so that Jackson could take his vacant seat.

"So, I hear they're saying it's some kind of animal attack. Probably a cougar." Danny said, unknowingly steering the topic of conversation back where it had been only moments before.

"I heard mountain lion." Jackson disagreed.

"Same thing," Amber said through a large mouthful of salad at the same time Lydia said, "A cougar is a mountain lion."

Jackson's eyes narrowed at his girlfriend and Lydia continued, "Isn't it?" Lydia asked dumbly, looking up at Amber across the table in faux-confusion.

"Who cares," Jackson rolled his eyes, "The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

Amber's eyes snapped back to Jackson and she had to fight the urge to stab her fork into his hand instead of the salad on her plate.

She felt Stiles' hand go to her shoulder as he leaned over the table with a video playing on his phone, "Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out." Stiles said, positioning his phone so that most of the table could see the newsreel he was playing.

"The Sheriff's Department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition." The reporter recounted over a video clip that had been taken of the crime scene, followed by a photograph of the victim smiling that they'd managed to pull from somewhere.

"I know this guy." Scott said, looking up at his two best friends with wide eyes. Amber took a shaky breath at the admission, glancing over at Stiles to see he looked just as dejected. "When I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad.. He was the driver."

There was a moment of silence wherein the three friends sat with matching looks of devastation.

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia cut in, "Like- Oh, what are we doing tomorrow night?" She asked excitedly, eyes flicking to Amber before they settled on Allison at the other end of the group, "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"

There was an awkward moment where Amber watched Allison choke down the bite of food she had in her mouth, eyes bouncing between Lydia and Scott, "Um," She struggled, "We were still thinking of what we were gonna do."

Amber and Stiles made brief eye contact, unsure how Scott and Allison could get out of sudden the turn of events.

"Well," Lydia said, "I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the six of us are hanging out, we're doing something fun."

Allison was nervously sipping from her water bottle when Scott turned to face her, "Hanging out? Like, the six of us?" He asked slowly.

Stiles reached a hand up to cover his own mouth to keep from groaning in frustration. Amber grabbed his hand and pulled it down to settle on the top of the table, squeezing it for a moment.

"Do you wanna hang out, like, us and them?" Scott asked Allison quietly.

"Yeah," Allison said after a second, "I guess. Sounds fun."

"You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork." Jackson said, holding up a metal fork identical to the one Amber had debated stabbing him with just a few minutes earlier.

"Well I'm, uh, busy.." Stiles said, hoping to get things back on track for Scott's date.

While Stiles had caught the grateful look Scott shot him, he missed the shattered expression that flooded the face of the girl sitting beside him. Amber let out a pained breath at Stiles' immediate dismissal of being paired up with her on something as simple as a group date.

"-With my dad. Gotta.. Do a thing." He finished lamely.

"Fine." Lydia dismissed, "Don't worry, hon, I happen to have a backup date all lined up for you." The redhead grinned slyly at Amber, like this was going more according to her plan than she could've hoped.

"A date?" Stiles squeaked at the same time Amber furrowed her eyebrows and said, "A backup date?"

"Well if he's too busy," Lydia started, shooting a small glare at Stiles, "We can't leave you fifth wheeling, can we?" She explained, "What, do you have plans with his dad, too?" She asked sarcastically, raising her eyebrows at Amber.

"I- No, I. I guess I don't." She confirmed, avoiding eye contact and moving the lettuce around on her plate.

"Good," Lydia smiled before turning her attention to her boyfriend, "How about bowling? You love to bowl."

Jackson scoffed, "Yeah, with actual competition."

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison asked, turning to Scott with a smile, "You can bowl, right?"

Scott paused, eyes wide, "Sort of."

Amber grimaced, glancing up at Stiles to find him still looking at her with a frown, a french fry dangling from between his lips as if he'd had some sort of life changing realization mid-bite.

What? She mouthed to him, grabbing the exposed half of the fry and pulling it from his mouth. Stiles simply shook his head like he was clearing his thoughts and returned his attention to the rest of the table as he chewed the food still in his mouth.

"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson was prodding Scott.

"Yes." Scott said defiantly, sitting up a little straighter in his seat, "In fact, I'm a great bowler."

Amber sighed in all sorts of disappointment.

Stiles and Scott made their way from their final class of the day in a rush to leave school, moving faster that normal with the knowledge that they didn't have lacrosse practice that afternoon. They entered the stairwell and moved quickly until they reached the bottom.

"You're terrible at bowling!" Stiles finally said loudly, thinking back on the fiasco in the lunchroom.

"I know!" Scott whined, "I'm such an idiot!"

"God, It was like watching a car wreck. I mean, first it turns into this whole group date thing. And then out of nowhere comes that phrase-"

"'Hang out.'" Scott agreed.

"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death. Once it's hanging out you might as well be her gay best friend. Believe me. It'll be like me and Amber when we're 'hanging out'." Stiles ranted as they turned into the lower hallway.

"How is this happening?" Scott asked, blind to the way his friend was beginning to spiral, "I either killed a guy or I didn't."

"God! I could've had a date with Amber and I freaking blew it." Stiles complained, "D'you think she would've thought it was a real date? Who do you think she's going on the date with now?" Stiles asked, his mind racing.

"I ask Allison on a date, and now we're hanging out." Scott said to himself, ignoring Stiles.

"Scott, who do you think Amber's going on the date with now?"

"I make first line, and the team captain wants to destroy me. And now-" Scott bemoaned before he checked the time on his phone with a groan, "Now I'm gonna be late for work." He said, running off again and leaving Stiles standing in the middle of the hall.

"Wait, Scott!" Stiles called after his friend's retreating form, "You didn't- Who's Amber going on the date with now! You didn't-" He paused, continuing quietly to himself, "Answer my question."

"Ben Davis." A voice came a few inches from Stiles' ear.

Stiles jumped, flailing his arms and tripping forward a few steps. He nearly smacked the girl beside him as he caught his footing and he heard Amber's laughter as he righted himself.

"Ben Davis?" Stiles repeated with a grimace.

Stiles didn't necessarily like the thought of Amber going on a date with one of the many assholes that Lydia could have easily lined up from the lacrosse team. But, somehow, Amber going on a date with Ben Davis was worse.

Ben was all tall lean muscle and clear skin paired with a sharp jawline and thick shiny hair. In addition to all that, though, was what Stiles was beginning to think was the thing he hated the most about Ben — he was nice. The guy was a part of the Big Brother Big Sister Program at the middle school. He was always willing to help the Freshmen when they were having trouble with the drills while all the other upperclassmen just watched them flail in satisfaction. He volunteered at an honest to God soup kitchen around the holidays.

Stiles didn't want Amber to go on a date with some douchebag who he knew would be telling dirty jokes and feeling her up all night, but at least that would be a one and done situation. He knew Amber would kick the ass of a guy like that before she ever agreed to a second date.

But a guy like Ben — That was a guy she'd go on a second, third, even tenth date with. Ben was a guy Amber would probably date until they graduated high school and then the two of them would get married and have two annoyingly beautiful children.

Stiles felt like he was going to be sick.

One Hour Earlier

As soon as the bell rang for the fifteen minute break before last period, Amber rushed to the bathroom. She felt Lydia's eyes on her as she passed by but refused to slow, speeding past with a tight feeling in her chest.

She hadn't been able to pay attention to anything they'd covered in class after lunch. She had mindlessly copied down notes from the board and into her notebook, but she wouldn't have been able to recall a word of it if anyone asked. Her mind was stuck on the confirmation she'd received that Stiles truly couldn't see her as anything more than his friend.

She'd told herself hundreds of times that something like this would happen, that Stiles didn't want her in that way. But to have it laid out in front of her with all of their friends present had been more mortifying than she could have ever imagined.

When the bathroom door opened, Amber was sitting with her knees pulled into her chest, curled up on the wide window sill that ran along the frosted glass panes. She heard the soft clicking of Lydia's heeled boots along the tiled floor, but Amber was busy trying to focus her breathing, squeezing her legs tight.

"Oh, sweetie," Lydia said softly, sitting down on the edge of the sill beside her. Lydia's hand came up to run through her friend's long hair softly, pulling Amber close. "You're upset about buzzcut?"

"Stiles." Amber said quietly, voice sounding hoarse even though she hadn't cried.

"Right, well, I know you're hurt but.. If he doesn't want to go on a date with you, he's an idiot." The strawberry blonde stated.

"Feel kinda like I'm the idiot." Amber mumbled, leaning back and looking up into the green eyes of her friend.

"You're not." Lydia said sternly, "But d'you know what will make you feel better?"

"If you say going bowling with-"

"Going out for a fun night with your friends and a guy, hand picked by me. Who, by the way, is very hot and very perfect for you." Lydia smiled softly.

"Perfect for me?" Amber asked distrustfully, loosening her grip around her legs and leaning back against the wall.

"Yes," Lydia insisted, "Please, I know your type. He's sweet, but he's also so family oriented it's boring, and he's a total nerd." Amber raised her eyebrows at the list of supposed perks, "Not to mention he's insanely hot."

Amber sighed, giving in, "Who are we even talking about?"

"Ben Davis." When Lydia grinned, there was something both beautiful and scary about it.

Amber knew who Ben was. He was in their class and had tried out for lacrosse with Scott and Stiles as Freshmen the year before. She didn't know him well, but she knew him well enough that she thought he seemed like a nice guy. He was tall for a Sophomore, and he had gorgeous dark hair that somehow always looked styled but effortless. Lydia wasn't lying, he was insanely attractive.

"I just- I don't know how much fun a date sounds to me right now." Amber admitted self-consciously, picking at a loose thread on her jeans.

"Just come on the date," Lydia said, combing her fingers through Amber's hair one final time, "Come. Try to have fun- And then if you want to mope and be depressed about your friend for a week, I say go for it."

Amber took a deep breath, "You really, honestly think I might like him?" She asked, sighing at Lydia's answering nod, "I don't think I'm up for it tomorrow, but a date in general.. I just.. I'll think about it, okay?"

"Deal," Lydia held out a pinky, waiting until Amber joined her own before letting her hand drop. "But even if you don't go tomorrow night, I am getting you on a date with this guy," She wrapped Amber up in another tight hug, "I swear you'd like him."

Amber nodded reluctantly. Despite the ever present pang of heartbreak she was feeling for Stiles, she felt significantly lighter than she had before her talk with Lydia.

Amber was on her way to her locker at the end of the day when she heard Stiles' voice ring out from down the hallway.

"Scott, wait!" She heard Stiles yelling as she rounded a corner, steadily closing the distance between her and her friends.

Finally, she spotted the back of Stiles' head. He was standing in the center of the front hall, shouting at Scott's back as the tanned boy walked in the other direction through the crowd of students in a rush.

"You didn't- Who's Amber going on the date with now! You didn't-" Stiles called out as Amber reached his back. She leaned closer to Stiles' shoulder as he continued speaking quietly to himself, "Answer my question."

She leaned up onto her tiptoes, her face hovering close to Stiles' ear, "Ben Davis." She answered, her mouth only a few inches from his left ear.

He flinched in surprise at the sound of her voice so close. The boy stumbled and when his arms pinwheeled in an attempt to catch himself, he only narrowly avoided hitting Amber in the face with a flailing limb. She laughed loudly as he tripped forward half a step and righted himself before standing upright again.

He turned to face her and when she looked into his wide brown eyes, she fought to remind herself of the way he'd rejected her in the lunchroom.

"Ben Davis?" Stiles repeated, voice sounding unusually high. His nose crinkled up cutely in what looked like confusion.

Amber shrugged, suddenly feeling self conscious. She couldn't help but associate his surprise with him thinking the same thing she had when Lydia revealed her prospect — that Ben Davis was ridiculously out of her league.

"I mean.. I already told Lydia I'm probably not gonna go." She told him, nervously readjusting her books from where she had been cradling them to her side to hold them in front of herself protectively with both arms. She opted to leave out the fact that Stiles was her main reason for bailing on the group excursion.

"You're not going on the date?" He asked for clarification, his eyes raking over her face.

"Nah," She said, "I know Lydia won't be deterred that easily, in the long run but- Looks like it'll just be a double now with Scott and Allison, Jackson and Lydia."

"Good. Great- Cool!" Stiles said enthusiastically, his cheeks dimpling and putting an instantaneous smile on Amber's own face. His mood seemed to perk up and he threw a casual arm over her shoulders as he led them in the direction of her locker, "What're your plans for tonight? Scott's got work. But if you want, I thought we could order takeout and study for the Chemistry test-"

"Jason doesn't have to be back at the station until eight, actually," She interrupted, casting a brief glance at the mole-dotted cheek on the right side of Stiles' face, "We're making papoutsakia for dinner!" She said excitedly.

"Is that the eggplant one or the pasta bake?"

"Eggplant!" She grinned wide in excitement, "We're pulling out dad's recipe for the tomato sauce and everything. We can never get it to taste exactly like he made it but one of these days... We're gonna get it right."

"Right, yeah-" Stiles said, releasing her so she could open her locker and get her backpack, "That's cool, I'll just.. Drop you off at home then."

"We could order food and study tomorrow night though, if you want." She suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, I- Yeah sounds good. Great!" Stiles said quickly.

He moved to lean against the row of lockers and evidently misjudged the distance, by the way his shoulder slammed loudly against the metal. When she glanced at him while dropping a few books into her bag, he seemed unharmed. Instead, he wore a pleased little smile on his face, his cheeks dimpling in a way that made her heart clench.

"Cool." She smiled, zipping up her backpack and pulling it over her shoulders.

Amber was finishing up in the shower just after nine o'clock that evening when she heard her cell phone ringing loudly from the bathroom sink. She wrapped a towel around her body and nearly slipped with her wet feet against the tile as she jumped from the shower to get to the phone before it rang through to voicemail.

"Hello?" She said in a rush as she answered the call, hovering the phone a few inches away from her ear to avoid it coming into contact with her wet hair.

"Amber, you good? We're on our way to pick you up." Stiles' voice came through the tiny speaker.

"W-Why? I'm showering, what- Did something else happen?" She asked anxiously, leaning to shut off the running water and cursing quietly when she nearly slipped again in a puddle beside the bathtub.

"You're in the shower?" She heard Stiles' ask in a strained voice. Scott muttered something in the background and Stiles shushed him before continuing, "W- Right now?"

"No, not right now. I don't take my phone into the actual shower with me, Stiles. I was showering when you called." She said, turning him on speakerphone so that she could dry herself off quickly with the towel. "Now tell me what's going on."

"We're going to go to the school so Scott can sniff around or something. We'll explain more when we get there. Just get dressed and meet us outside, we'll be there in maybe two minutes."

"Fuck," She exclaimed at the time frame, rushing to finish drying her dripping hair before running to her bedroom to find clothes, "Okay, I'll be right down."

She ended the call, pulling on jeans and a tshirt from the mess on her bedroom floor before running out to the driveway. When she got there, the blue Jeep was already idling and she rushed to the passenger side, clumsily climbing over Scott to get to the center of the bench seat.

"Hi," She panted, elbowing Scott in the face as she readjusted to sit down, "Sorry-" Stiles was already backing out of the driveway and Amber shivered in the cool air of the vehicle as her hair dripped water down the collar of her shirt. "So what's happening? What're we sniffing?"

"I talked to Derek earlier," Scott told her, "He said that if I go back in the bus and use my werewolf senses, then I might remember what happened."

"I told you we should've talked to Derek sooner," She stated, "Was he furious about getting arrested?"

"Well, he didn't seem happy." Scott said, earning a snort of laughter from Stiles.

"Hey, this is serious, okay? We got the guy arrested. For his sister's murder." She glared at Stiles in the dark cab of the car.

"He still could've done it." He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, "Stiles, seriously. We have more important things to focus on right now than your burning, passionate hatred for Derek Hale, alright?"

Stiles muttered something under his breath that she didn't catch, but remained otherwise silent until they pulled up to the gate that closed off the bus lot behind the school at night. As soon as the vehicle was shut off, both doors were flung open and Scott and Stiles dashed from the car, Amber climbed out a moment later and ran to catch up with them as they approached the gate.

Stiles put his hands and feet into the chainlink and immediately began to climb but Scott tugged him down to stand on the ground again.

"Hey, no, just me." Scott said, pulling Stiles' shoulder back and pushing him to stand beside Amber a few steps away, "You guys need to keep watch."

"How come we're always keeping watch?" Stiles asked defensively.

"Because he's the werewolf." Amber stated, putting her hand on Stiles' shoulder and pulling him back another step toward the car.

"Okay, why's it starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin?" Stiles asked, his focus on Scott. "I don't want to be Robin all the time."

"Nobody's Batman or Robin any of the time." Scott said in exasperation.

"I- Not even some of the time?" Stiles asked sadly.

"Just," Scott turned his attention to Amber, "Make sure he stays here."

"Gotcha." She replied at the same time Stiles whined in annoyance. She pulled Stiles back toward the Jeep and together they climbed back in through the still-open doors. The car was quiet for a long minute before Amber spoke up, "Y'know, for the record, if there was a Batman of the group, it'd be you. Regardless of werewolf powers."

Stiles scoffed quietly, "How do you figure that?"

"You're kind of in charge, y'know? You're the one who's always got a plan, even if I don't always approve of it. And you're the one who keeps us together whenever shit hits the fan. Plus, well, you're always trying to keep me safe and pulling me out of danger-" She looked over from where her eyes had been focussed on the bus in the distance and finally turned her attention to the boy beside her. He wore a soft look or surprise on his face that made her feel oddly vulnerable, like somehow she'd revealed too much in the safety of the dark car. "Um.. Not to mention, you've got the super cool car."

He smiled and the light from the parking lot cast shadows over the dimples in his cheeks. Amber tore her eyes away to glance back toward the parked bus and jumped when she saw flashlight beams approaching from the other direction.

"Stiles!" She alerted her friend, pointing toward where Scott was still in the bus and the growing beams of light.

"Shit-" Stiles exclaimed quietly, honking the horn of the Jeep obnoxiously for several long moments to get Scott's attention.

They watched as Scott emerged from the bus and took off running in their direction. He jumped onto the hood of a parked car and ran along the roof before launching himself over the tall fence, tucking and rolling when he hit the ground on the other side.

"C'mon, c'mon," Stiles muttered, hitting the steering wheel anxiously as they watched their friend.

Scott ran toward the Jeep and Amber rushed to open the passenger side door for him.

"Go! Go!" Scott yelled as soon as he was in the vehicle.

Amber flinched at the shouting and she watched Stiles fumble with his keys for a moment before getting them in the ignition and throwing the vehicle into reverse. Amber couldn't help but grip onto Scott's arm when Stiles slammed on the gas to propel them backward before cutting the wheel as he switched gears. The Jeep turned to the side and hadn't yet come to a stop before Stiles slammed on the gas again and they took off in a forward direction and away from the school.

"Did it work? Did you remember?" Stiles yelled quickly as he drove.

"Yeah, I was there last night," Scott explained, gripping the window with one hand and allowing Amber to continue squeezing his other arm tightly, "And the blood- A lot of it was mine."

"What does that mean?" Amber questioned in confusion.

"So, you did attack him?" Stiles clarified.

"No." Scott answered, "I saw glowing eyes on the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek."

"Oh, come on-" Amber cried out, only to be ignored.

"What about the driver?" Stiles asked.

"I think I was actually trying to protect him."

"Wait," Stiles interrupted frantically, "Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"

"He wouldn't!" Amber interjected loudly.

"It's gotta be a pack thing-" Stiles thought aloud, ignoring the incredulous look Amber was shooting him, "Like an initiation. You do the kill together."

"Because ripping someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?" Scott asked warily.

"Yeah, but you didn't do it," Stiles pointed out, "Which means you're not a killer. And it also means that-"

"I can go out with Allison." Scott finished quickly, a look of relief taking over his face.

"I was going to say that you wont kill me and Amber." Stiles said, taking his eyes off the road to look past Amber and glare at Scott.

"Oh, yeah." Scott agreed quietly, "That too."

"You're both ridiculous." Amber stated, releasing Scott's arm to cross her own over her chest. There was so much she wanted to say but she remained quiet as she sorted through her own thoughts.

There was no way that Derek Hale was attacking people just because he wanted Scott in his pack.

Amber knew something else was going on, and she intended on figuring it out.

The next day, Amber insisted she needed to do something before their study date and requested that Stiles drop her off at home after lacrosse practice.

The girl watched out the front window as the Jeep reversed out of the driveway before she abandoned her backpack on the dining table and headed to the garage to pull out her rarely-used bicycle. Tugging the garage door closed once again, she climbed onto the uncomfortable seat and took off in the direction of the preserve.

Amber was passing by a gas station at the edge of town when she spotted a familiar black Camaro parked at one of the pumps and she quickly turned into the parking lot, coming to a stop at the back of the car.

Derek was swinging the driver's side door open and getting out just as she climbed off of her bike, letting it fall to the ground as she approached him.

"You have got to tell us what the hell is going on." Amber demanded.

"You and your little friends have no idea what you've gotten in the middle of." Derek stated darkly, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Uh, yeah, that's kind of the problem!" Amber said, gesturing wildly with her arms, "Scott and Stiles think you're this crazy murderous werewolf who attacks random people for some sort of idiotic pack bonding ritual- And you, with your stupid brooding face and half-truths whenever you're confronted with a question, are not helping!"

Derek rolled his eyes at the teen, leaning against his car casually, "Then what d'you wanna know, huh?"

"I want to know who attacked the bus driver, and who killed your sister, and why your werewolf butt showed up in town at the same time Scott was bitten." Amber listed, counting off the questions on her fingers.

"I don't know who attacked the driver, alright? I was hoping Scott would once he triggered his memories." Derek stated.

"Okay, well.. What about your sister?" Amber asked.

"I don't know that for sure either," Derek said, crossing his arms over his chest, "I really did follow my sister here. I didn't lie to you."

"Okay, well-" Amber started, cutting herself off when Derek's focus suddenly snapped down the street, his eyes wide and his brows furrowed, "What?"

"Get in the car and hide on the floor in the back seat." Derek ordered, moving to grab her bike and throwing it into the bushes at the edge of the parking lot like it weighed nothing.

"What? Why would I-"

Derek was already opening the door and pulling the seat forward. He picked her up easily and shoved her into the backseat of the car, repeating himself, "Hide on the floor." He demanded, pushing the seat back upright, "Don't move. Don't make a sound. Got it?"

Amber bit her lower lip nervously but nodded. The moment she gave her confirmation, the door to the Camero was slammed shut and Derek rounded the car and began the process of filling his gas tank.

The sound of several more car doors opening and closing sounded out and Amber curled tighter on the floor of the car to hide herself away from the tinted windows. Everyone outside of the car was silent for a long minute and eventually, she heard Derek pull the pump from the side of the car and flip the gas cap closed.

She remained on the floor and listened as a male voice began speaking at the passenger side of the car near where Derek was standing.

"Nice ride." The man finally said, "Black cars, though.. Very hard to keep clean. I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance. If you have something this nice, you want to take care of it. Right?"

Something soft slapped wetly against the windshield and Amber flinched, peeking around the passenger seat to see the arm of someone cleaning the windshield with a squeegee.

"Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love." The man continued as he wiped down the glass, "But, that's something I learned from my family, and you don't have much of that these days. Do you?"

Anger flared in Amber's chest at the insensitive comment that was most likely meant to pull a reaction out of Derek. It didn't seem to have worked, as Derek remained silent and out of her line of sight from the floor. It was, however, effective in making the girl inside the car begin to feel protective and quietly enraged.

"There we go." The man said after a moment, stepping back from the car, "You can actually look through your windshield now. See how that makes everything so much clearer?"

Amber watched through the small crack between the passenger door and the seat as the man began to walk away, he was wearing a tan jacket and his hair was heavily graying.

"You forgot to check the oil." Derek called out at the man's back brazenly, his voice deep and unaffected by the encounter.

"Check the man's oil." The man from before ordered someone after a long moment of silence.

Only a few seconds passed before someone approached the driver's side door. Amber ducked down tighter toward the floor just before someone broke through the front window with the butt of a large gun, glass shattering loudly and flying into the car as Amber flinched with a quiet gasp.

"Looks good to me." The second man said with mirth as he backed away from the car, not noticing the girl in the back.

"Drive safely." The first man told Derek, voice growing quieter as he walked away from the car for the second time.

A minute passed in which she could hear car doors opening and closing again, two engines turning over, and the sound of the vehicles driving away. As soon as the sounds retreated, Amber sat up a little straighter and watched as Derek tugged open the passenger door this time and pulled her back out of the car with his hands on her waist.

"Who the hell-"

"You okay?" Derek interrupted her, checking her arms and face for cuts. His eyes narrowed as he reached up and pulled a tiny piece of glass from her hairline without warning.

"Ow!" Amber flinched, pulling back a step and pressing her fingers to the tender spot where the glass had been lodged in her skin. When she pulled her hand away, her fingertips had a small drop of blood on them and she stared at the drop in a daze for a moment before looking up at Derek's frowning face, "Seriously, who-"

"Hunters." Derek told her, "Chris Argent and his crew. They didn't see you, though. You should be safe for now."

"For now?" Amber repeated in a squeak, "What do you mean for now?"

Derek sighed, "Scott's control isn't the only thing that puts you in danger. Just knowing him, being friends with him, that puts you in danger too. From hunters."

"I am not going to stop being friends with Scott." Amber told him resolutely.

"That doesn't surprise me." Derek stated, purposefully brushing his hands down Amber's jacket and jeans. Tiny shards of glass fell from her clothes and hit the pavement below with a quiet clinking. "Look, I'm on my way to check out the bus driver. I'm going to see if I can get any scents or clues off of him but you and Stiles- You need to stay out of things. You're human. It's not safe."

"But-"

"Go home." Derek ordered, pushing her gently in the direction of her bike.

Amber frowned, but approached the bicycle where it was sadly hanging out of the bushes, relatively unharmed considering it had been thrown across a gas station parking lot. She picked it up and looked back to see Derek already climbing into the Camaro and closing the door behind him.

She sighed, pulling her phone out to text Stiles to pick her up at home before throwing her leg over the bike and taking off in the direction of her house.

When she got to her house, she dropped her bike haphazardly against the front porch. Amber rushed inside to grab her backpack again and poked her head through the curtains to see Stiles already parked in the driveway once more.

"That literally took you less than an hour. I could've just hung around-" Stiles stated while she pulled open the passenger door and climbed into the Jeep, "What did you have to do?"

"Um-" Amber hesitated as she turned to buckle her seatbelt.

"Are you bleeding?" Stiles asked quickly, reaching out to brush her hair to the side and leaning closer to get a better look.

"Shit-" Amber cursed, having already forgotten about the small cut at her hairline.

Stiles tucked the hair that had fallen in front of her face behind her ear to hold it in place, leaning around her to open the glove compartment and pulling out a napkin before slapping it shut again.

"Why are you bleeding?" He demanded, pressing the napkin to the blood that had dripped down her forehead.

"I was going to ease you into it-"

"Ease me into what?"

"Well-" Amber sighed, taking the napkin from his hand and wiping at her forehead herself, "You're gonna be kind of mad."

Stiles sighed this time, "Amber, why am I gonna be mad?"

"I went to see Derek-" Amber started.

"Derek- Derek hurt you?" Stiles asked angrily. It was a tone Amber wasn't sure if she'd ever heard his voice take. The boy reached into the pocket of his jeans as he continued, "That's it. We're calling my dad and this time he'll arrest the deranged werewolf for-"

"Stiles, stop." Amber grabbed the phone from his hand when he pulled it out of his pocket, "Will you just listen? Yeah, I went to see Derek, but I'm bleeding because Allison's dad showed up with a bunch of other hunters and broke in the window on Derek's car."

"You were in his car again?"

"Yes, I was in his car. He told me to hide in there when he heard the hunters pulling up. But that's not the point, Stiles-"

"Unbelievable!" Stiles exclaimed, "You're about to defend him again, aren't you? You're still defending Derek?"

Amber took a deep breath, weighing her options.

"Why don't we talk about it later, then. Okay?" Amber asked. Stiles looked like he wanted to fight her on it but before he could say anything, she spoke again, "I'm starving. What did you want to order? Pizza? Chinese? Mal's?"

Stiles sighed, facing forward to back out of the driveway and begin driving.

When they had arrived at the Stilinski house, the two had quietly snuck their Chinese food upstairs, attempting to keep it far away from where Stiles' dad would have been sure to steal some of the greasy and likely artery-clogging takeout.

Amber's head was pillowed comfortably in Stiles' lap as she quizzed him with the stack of flash cards she'd worked on the night before. They had been at it in between picking at the food for over an hour and were nearly finished with the thirty card stack.

"Okay," She said, shimmying slightly as she readjusted to make sure he couldn't see the flash card if he tried to peek, "Chemical reaction resulting in a single product?"

"Synthesis?" He questioned, grabbing another spring roll from the bag beside him and reaching out on autopilot to allow Amber to take a bite from it.

She accepted the bite easily and nodded, flipping to the next card in the stack as she chewed, "And what type of reaction takes place in the presence of oxygen and produces carbon dioxide and water?"

"Combustion." He answered confidently this time, shoving the remainder of the spring roll in his mouth and eating it in a single bite.

"Last one," She announced, sitting up to face her friend dramatically, "Products of the double-replacement reaction between aqueous hydrogen bromide and aqueous sodium hydroxide?"

"Uh-" Stiles paused, tapping his hand against his thigh in thought, "I- Water and sodium bromide?"

Amber squealed excitedly, jumping forward on the bed to tackle him into the pillows with a hug, "We are so going to ace this test! And when we do, Mr. Harris can suck it!" She said with a muffled voice into the pillows behind his head.

She felt Stiles' laughter underneath her and she pushed up onto her elbows to hover over him, laughter faltering when she noticed how close they were. She blew out a soft puff air over his face, her eyes tracing the freckles and moles dotting his flushed cheeks before settling on his eyes. His eyelashes were dark and thick and the warm brown of his eyes appeared darker than normal in the uneven light shining from the desk lamp across the room.

His eyes flicked back and forth between her own and she couldn't help the way her gaze dropped down to his lips, bringing up pondering thoughts of whether they were as soft as they looked. She both saw and felt his exhale as it slipped from his mouth and blew out against her chin. Amber swallowed audibly, her arms relaxing a touch more into the mattress beneath him.

The moment was broken when the house phone rang loudly downstairs with an incoming call and Amber flinched, rolling to the side in a rush to get out of the bed. Stiles reached automatically for the cordless phone he had on the side of the bed, covering the mouthpiece as he picked up to listen in to his dad's call.

She watched silently until he hung up the phone, only seconds before the downstairs door slammed shut as the Sheriff left the house, "What is it?" She asked.

"The bus driver's dead."

"Shit." She grabbed her phone from the front pocket of her backpack and checked her messages to find one from Scott that she'd received only two minutes before, "Scott just texted that he dropped Allison off."

"Let's go, then." Stiles said, abandoning their school supplies and leftover Chinese takeout to pull her out of the house and back down to the Jeep, their previous moment forgotten.

When they pulled up to the house, the windows were dark and the family car that Scott was driving tonight was still missing from the driveway.

Stiles grabbed Amber's hand and tugged her over to the trellis at the side of the house. They used to climb it as kids — the same trellis Stiles had climbed just a few weeks before on the night Scott had been bitten.

Stiles began to climb and urged Amber to follow close behind, making his way up the wooden structure and quietly sliding open the unlocked window into Scott's bedroom. He climbed through and she followed, her foot catching on the windowsill and causing her to tumble through. She landed hard on Stiles' back and rolled off of him with a quiet apology as they righted themselves.

Suddenly, a figure moved through the dark doorway to Scott's bedroom wielding a weapon and Stiles and Amber seemed to notice it at the same time, yelling out in fear.

"Woah, woah!" Stiles yelled, bringing his arms up to protect them from any anticipated blow as Amber and their attacker both screamed loudly.

The room settled into silence for a brief moment as they took stock of the situation. Ms. McCall stepped back and lowered the baseball bat she was holding before scolding them loudly, "Guys! What the hell are you doing here!"

"What are we doing!?" Stiles yelled, pointing to the bat in the woman's hands, "God! Do either of you even play baseball?" He asked loudly, referring to when Scott had threatened him the same way.

The lights in the room suddenly flicked on, revealing Amber huddled behind Stiles on the bed, Ms. McCall standing in her robe with a baseball bat, and Scott standing in the doorway.

"Can you please tell your friends to use the front door?" Ms. McCall asked her son gently with a sigh.

"But we lock the front door," Scott said simply, "They wouldn't be able to get in."

"Yeah, exactly." The woman responded, still gripping the baseball bat loosely. "And, by the way, do any of you care that there's a police enforced curfew?"

"No." All three teens responded at the same time.

"'No!' Alright then. Well, you know what? That's about enough parenting for me for one night, so- Goodnight." Ms. McCall said in exasperation before leaving the room.

The three friends sat in silence in the room for only a minute before Scott gave them a look, "What?" He asked.

"My dad left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago- It's the bus driver." Stiles said, glancing at Amber beside him before continuing, "They said he succumbed to his wounds."

"Succumbed?" Scott asked in confusion.

"He's dead, Scott." Amber clarified. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach telling her that, somehow, things were only bound to get worse.

#stiles #stilesfic #selenophiles #dylan obrien fanfic #dylan obrien #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #i couldn't decide on a gif for this chapter so i did multiple - sorry #1x03 #*

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aerkan · 3 months

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❄️☁️🎨🧩

Hello love!

❄️ (What's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?)

This is very hard to answer, because if I want something done with certain characters I very often try to write it myself (hence why I get sidetracked so frequently lol). But if I had to choose one dream fic of mine that I don't have the courage to write myself, it would be a more in-depth retelling of the Odyssey (maybe one where Odysseus gets home earlier 👀) with all the gruesome implications the original provided explored to the details. And as for who I think would write it best... I'm quite torn between three people. So, they can share the first place xd

@storm-elf , @inahandful-of-dust and @bgtea (because I adore their Entirely Out of Spite fic which explores emotions and grief very well)

☁️ (What made you choose your username?)

It's really nothing fancy. I knew I wanted one that would remain ambiguous as to what my gender was so I could use it in peace everywhere I ventured. I kept the first letter of my given name and then just played with the alphabet until it sounded right (by no intention of mine, it does sounds like a fantasy name xd)

🎨 (link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it)

Alright, if I had to choose one specific one then the first one which comes to mind is this amazing fanart of Tony Stark. (There are of course a lot more but this one just makes me feel a certain way I can't really explain but I'll try!)

It's by Hallpen on DeviantArt. Definitely check them out, they have more amazing fanarts on their page.

Now, why I love this one so much. It's the warm colours, the smile on his face, the small heart on his chest and the snap of his fingers. It's perfect. I love it because it represents a version of Tony Stark we've never got see. The relaxed, happy even content version. Every time I look at it I see a Tony that was never betrayed by his friends, that never had to sacrifice his own mind to protect his loved ones. I see a man who didn't have to die for the good of the universe.

I grew up watching the journey this silly little inventor went on. I cheered and cried in the theater with and for this man. There won't ever be another Tony Stark for me. Even I can't quite comprehend the ache in my chest whenever I remember that he's gone. I miss him like I would miss a member of my family, because in a way this character has been in my life just as long as some of my oldest friends. I will never be that child again, who watched the Iron Man for the first time with awe in my eyes and it rips me open.

This fanart takes that pain and transforms it into a kinder sort of ache that still brings tears to my eyes but also a smile to my face, because seeing Tony Stark happy will always be my roman empire.

Oooooo, sorry for that ramble lol.

🧩 (What will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?)

I have five things I can't get over. First person pov, REALLY bad grammar, mpreg, omegaverse and age regression (the 'only mentally' kind, I'm sorry but I can't stand it)

Thank you Lumi for the ask! ^^<3

#writing #ao3 #ao3 writer #ask answered #tag game #tony stark #odysseus

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rotblume · 10 months

Text

How you see me

Rating: General Audiences

Categories: Gen; M/M

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski; Derek Hale & Peter Hale

Characters: Peter Hale; Stiles Stilinski; Derek Hale; Scott McCall (& mentioned Allison Argent; Isaac Lahey)

Additional Tags: Everyone Is Alive; Drawing; Painting; Peter Hale Needs a Hug; Peter Hale Deserves Nice Things; Stiles Stilinski Deserves Nice Things; Derek Hale is a Softie; Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings; Pre-Slash

Summary:

Peter gets the impression he is being watched. It starts an exchange of pictures, but those are not for everyone's eyes. Maybe, though, in this case it's not too bad that people get to see. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words and both Peter and Stiles are rather inept at expressing their feelings when it really matters.

🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑

Chapter /4: How you see me

Peter Hale was a lot of things. He was intelligent and cunning, quick thinking in case of danger. He was sarcastic, if not outright snarky, but at the same time very suasive. Peter Hale knew there were many who wanted him dead, humans and supernatural creatures alike, and he was cautious, but not paranoid. No, he was certainly not paranoid.

Still, Peter couldn't help but to think that he was being watched. One might say that wasn't something new for him, since others were around him as cautious as he was around them, but the Pack preferred to ignore him. So, yes, Peter became suspicious.

He strained his ears and tried to listen for something, anything that could tell him what exactly it was that was going on. He heard the television and the screaming coming from one of those gruesome horror movie that the whelps seemed to love so much.

He heard the sloppy, drunken kisses from Jackson and Lydia. He heard Scott and Allison going all gooey, whispering sweet things to each other. He heard Isaac's snoring and he started to wonder why they were watching a movie when no one really watched.

But as Peter glanced around he noticed that Erica, Boyd and Derek were actually looking at the television screen, although he wasn't sure if his nephew was really seeing what was happening or if he had finally learned to sleep with his eyes open. And then he noticed Stiles.

The teen was sitting alone on the floor, his legs crossed, in his hands the scribbling pad that he used for his sketches. His drawing explained the faint scratching sound Peter wasn't able to place. A few months ago Stiles had started his own encyclopedia with all the creatures he knew by now were real. The boy was getting better and better with his drawings.

At first Peter had been surprised that Stiles still remembered all the little details from how the Kanima had looked like and even he himself as an Alpha. But Stiles proved that he did indeed have an eye for many little things that most others weren't even aware of.

The younger one often asked Peter for tales about different beasts that no one could prove did exist and began thinking up his own mythical characters. By now, he was also drawing his friends for fun, during their training, as Werewolves or simply as couples in group portraits.

Just when Peter wanted to turn back to the movie, he realized that Stiles was watching him, too, looking up at him for the umpteenth time. Smirking, he raised an eyebrow, but the boy only stuck out his tongue at him and concentrated back on his current drawing.

Peter shook his head and tried to forget about it as he focused on the movie. However, he risked a glance or two at the other one and noticed him sometimes biting his lip, sometimes furrowing his brow in concentration.

When the movie came to an end at last, the lovesick pups disappeared as quickly as possible, leaving Erica and Boyd to tidy up, while Derek carried Isaac up to his bedroom. Peter slowly made his way over to Stiles, who was still caught up in the picture.

He had a faint suspicion what it was that the teen was drawing, but he wanted to have it confirmed. Peter came to a halt behind him and he felt him tensing, smelled the apprehension radiating off the boy in waves. Frowning, he leaned over Stiles' shoulder and when he could finally catch a glimpse of the picture it took his breath away.

Peter knew instantly it was him, if not for the similarities then because of the V-neck and leather-jacket, but the man in the picture looked like a supernatural being. His stance was confident, the arms crossed, his shoulders showed rough edges and his hands were only blurry schemes. What took him by surprise, though, was the softness around his eyes and the upward curve of his mouth.

This Peter didn't look like he was planning something or trying to persuade someone. He didn't even look satisfied, but merely happy. His voice was barely above a whisper when he finally brought himself to say something, „This is how you see me?"

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles half turned around, half leaned against him and huffed, „You have a problem with that?" Peter was silent for a moment and sat down, making himself comfortable next to the teen, „No, not at all."

#my fic

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mishkakagehishka · 2 years

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*banging on ur front door* YAN MIKA WRITTEN AS HORROR YES I LOVE THIS hewlo...

i dont really know how much i can add. on that post myself but im here for this. i am consuming it. im not one to usually or generally rlly think much of mika BUT his fucked up factor ♡ good to think ab sometimes. plus the fact hes actually into eroguro canonically? hello sir. the scary factor from the fact hes just so delusional he wld actually think he could probably pain his darling any way and theyd just?? magically live thru it?? cause of course. theyre just so awesome great and godly to him、right? my god yeah he would absolutely try to recreate his fantasies thru clothes n hope his darling would accept them. i mean how mean can you be to poor little mika who offered to make some adorable clothes for you and say no to trying them? and hrnnn the drawings he would totally make so many. methinks he'd also make a plushie of some sorts of their darling maybe to keep around?? a tiny one. all with the guts spilling out and maybe forming a heart shape. how romantic

side note i think yan mika would also only be scary on surface level and thru his drawings ? like all bark no bite. i think as a yandere you could drive him off if youre mean enough to him. he'd still stalk you but stop bothering you and thats better than what others would do if you tried distancing yourself from them. i may be wrong on this、i dont know as much ab mika as ab my actual favs buuuut i felt like slapping all this here <3 keep it up op. and also maybe you can just mention gore vaguely and leave it up to interpretation if it makes you sick in the stomach :")

Disclaimer that I write yandere as a horror trope meant to shock and scare the reader and I don't try to romanticise it!

Warnings for talk ab gore and blood, mentions of eroguro and allusions to a blood/gore fetish (but nothing explicit)

Right awghh he'd be so fucked up about it... yandere Mika who spends his free time drawing how he thinks his darling would look with their guts spilling out, neck sliced open, bones peeking from beneath the skin... yandere Mika who blushes and has to bite his hand while thinking about how much he wants to cut his darling open, just to see, just out of curiosity... yandere Mika who sewed a little cloth doll of his darling that he cuddles to sleep, but the doll is painted to look as if it's covered in blood, and the organs are drawn on it, above its little clothes. Yandere Mika who so sweetly asks his darling to model his clothes, who dresses them up in increasingly worrying ensembles, but he's so passionate about it, they just can't tell him no. Yandere Mika who leaves his sketchbook open on the most gruesome pages in places where he knows his darling will see them, in an almost exhibitionistic manner... who wants them to ask about his art because he's too shy to bring it up himself. Who happily shows them, after they ask, page after page of his sketches, explaining in detail his thought process behind every aspect of the pieces. Explaining detail which ones he wants to recreate with them, and how he wants to do it.

Yandere Mika who asks his darling outright if he could hurt them. Not "hurt", that's not how he phrases it. He promises he would never harm them and that they'll be fine... that he just wants to see their blood. Yandere Mika who, if he gets brave, even shows them his eroguro art. Who breathes heavily as he keeps a blade to his darling's stomach. Who kisses their neck whilst making cuts on their torso just deep enough to draw blood. Who flirts by saying, "I wish I could cut ya open" and "I wanna see yer guts so bad, darlin'." Who tries to get his darling to cut him open after some time. Who, really, just has a fantasy of his lover killing him and being killed by him.

Yandere Mika obsessed with gore and blood, just, yeah. And the eroguro aspect... so many thoughts in my head. He'd be so slimy, so creepy about it, and very obvious. Blushing, squirming, frantically looking elsewhere, all because his darling had a sudden nosebleed that dripped down to their shirt, and his mind went straight to the gutter. He'd be such a creep. If he gets composed fast enough, he'll offer to help them clean up and change, but~ If he offers that, he's already getting brave, so hs might just pin them in the office bathrooms and clean them up by licking the blood off their lips, chin and neck himself.

And oo the all bark no bite... as for me, I think Mika would be like that at first. As a yandere he worships the ground his darling walks on, so he'll want to avoid making them angry with him or hate him, but... the thing is, he's also a bit of a masochist. If you're mean to him, he'll just find that even more addictive and seek you out more, he loves when his darling yells at him and calls him names, even though he doesn't want to be so happy about it (it's a paradox of his own thoughts - he doesn't want them to hate him, but he still loves when they call him a creep and tell him off). I think what might work better is ignoring him. Not really the grey rock method, but just straight up not responding when he talks to you, pretending like he doesn't even exist. No positive nor negative reactions for him to feed off. He wouldn't get bored of his darling, he'd just get sad that they're ignoring him, and would leave them alone/give them some space until they decide to talk to him again. But he does continue stalking them, stealing from their rubbish, leaving them weird unsigned "secret admirer" notes and presents etc etc anyway. Mika might be the hardest yandere to shake off because he has his own delusions of his darling and he doesn't give up easily on them, if at all, so no matter what you do, he makes excuses and reasons why he still has a shot with you and why he should just persist or become worse with all his fucked up habits to "impress" you.

#i wrote this up last night but didn't post it for some reason...#ensemble stars #yandere enstars #mika kagehira #blood mention tw #gore text tw #kagehira mika #yandere #asks

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justinewt · 2 years

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Until Death Do Us Apart - TWD REWRITE Chapter Fifteen

[TWD FANFICTION-MASTERLIST]

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Summary: Alden came back to Alexandria just to have to go back out on a supply expedition and even though Anna didn’t like it, he couldn’t refuse; he had to do his part in the community. Her father left along him and the other survivors, leaving her rather alone, even though she had a few people she knew she could count on but she still wanted her family back to her, to be by her side through life’s difficult tests. But sometimes, wanting something isn’t enough for it to come true.

Words: 5.8k

Warnings: TWD spoilers season 11 (bits of episode 1 “Acheron: Part One” and episode 5 “Out of the Ashes”, episode 8 “For Blood”, end of episode 9 “No Other Way”), worry, comforting talks, heart-to-heart, Judith being a cutie I love Judith, bullying, angst, loss, grief, betrayal, TW for Lance & the Commonwealth’s stromtroopers, end of preg, detailed childbirth scene (not as gruesome as in House of the Dragon LOL but as detailed as can be),

DISCLAIMER: Anna’s pregnancy and labor goes well but not all pregnacy/labor look the same. Do not compare.

After the unexpected return of Negan to Alexandria, which Maggie didn’t like very much, her, Carol and a group of survivors that included Alden left for a supply expedition. Anna did as usual, taking care of Adam, helping around as much as she could and to a certain extent since she was easily tired out and sometimes felt a bit sick due to her pregnancy. She didn’t like not being able to move as much as she used to but it coud have been worse. After everything she went through, and now she was pregnant, she deserved some rest and go easy on herself.

“Daddy.” Anna was walking in Alexandria with her son in her arms and stopped in her tracks as he called out to his father, who had gone out of camp. She chuckled, glancing at her son in her arms. She tried explaining to the 1-year-old boy that his dad would be back soon, but he kept calling out to his dad and held out his arm above her shoulder, so she looked around and her lips stretched into a bright smile as she saw Alden step towards them. They shared a soft kiss and he took Adam in his arms. Anna watched them tenderly. This was the most peace she had ever had in over a decade. Little did she ever thought that Alden would be the man she would share her life with, and create a family with. After that brief moment of peace, Alden had to go back out there. The council had voted to go and try find more supply after their first expedition wasn’t as fruitful as they had hoped. Even Negan was to go with them.

“Do you reay have to go back?” She knew he had no choice, he had to do his part and they needed him to come with them but Anna wasn’t so thrilled. He sighed heavily, stepping close to her and pressing his forehead against hers, their noses touching. Anna looked into his brown eyes, worriedly.

“I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.” He brought a hand to her cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He then slowly kissed her, as if his lips didn’t want to part from hers but eventually, he had to go and she watched him walk away, with Adam in her arms. She had somewhat of a bad hunch about this second expedition but tried not to overthink it. He came back the first time, he would be back this time as well. Before they left Alexandria, she went to say goodbye to her father as well and went about her day, trying not to worry about it but it was always on her mind, weighing over her shoulders. She didn’t want her father or Alden to die. She didn’t want to lose them and end up alone. This had always been her worst nightmare; to lose the ones she loved. The death of her mother and the rocky relationship with her father as she became a teenager had deeply affected her. Apart from Carl and now Alden, she had never had anyone to confide into and had always dealt with her feelings and thoughts on her own. Alden definitely helped her. She had never loved someone like she loved him.

It had only been a couple days since the group went on a second expedition. As time went by, Anna grew more worried, but she kept trying to tell herself that it would be all right. Alden would come back, along with all the others and they would have more food for everyone in Alexandria and all would be well. This was too utopic, and she knew it. This world didn’t allow for happiness to last very long unfortunately. To keep herself busy, and be useful, she was helping giving out food to the survivors, at some point landing a punch at some guy’s face after he started a fight because he didn’t get his portion, but she handled it, gaining some respect from the survivors. Not all of them trusted her like Aaron already did.

Anna woke up, sleeping beside Adam when she heard people yelling in the house. Because she and Alden had a son and that she was with chid as well, they had their very own room. She stood up, not knowing what was going on and went to the door, looking around the first floor as everyone hurried around.

“What’s happening?” Aaron heard her and stopped in front of her.

“There was a breach in the walls. Walkers entered. Stay inside with Adam.” He then ran downstairs and went on the streets with everyone else while Anna closed the door of the room and walked around the bed to go near the window. Adam watched her in incomprehension, babbling questions to her but she simply told him everything was fine and she looked outside. The survivors were killing the dead that got on the camp’s grounds and tried to put the walls back up so no more walkers could enter. This event certainly didn’t help ease her worry; it only made her more anxious. They managed to plug the breach and Anna could see them from her window as they banged the walls, walking around, probably to spread out the dead on the other side so that they wouldn’t clump all together in one place and bring down the wall again. Once it was safe outside, Anna grabbed Adam and went on a walk with him, humming to him her parents’ song. She saw Judith and the other children with wooden swords in their hands and narrowed her eyes, watching them for a second from a distance before approaching them. She was really like Rick and Michonne in so many ways. The kids were in line, holding the swords up in front of them as she walked before them. She was teaching them how to stab walkers.

“Hey, how’s the lesson going?” She asked Judith, a smile on her face.

“It’s going well. They’re good students.”

“That’s good—” As she was engaging in the conversation with the young girl, noises coming from behind her caught their attention and Judith turned around to see a bunch of kids taunting a walker, it’s head pocking out a hole in the wall. They were laughing, playing with it. Judith and Anna’s smiles faded instantly, and they stared at them. If she didn’t have a kid in her arms, Anna would have went and kicked their asses herself.

“Hey! You shouldn’t be doint that!” She shouted but they ignored her, so she walked towards them. Anna watched her from a distance, giving a death stare at the kids, with contempt in her eyes. “Get away from there.”

“Calm down. We’re just having fun.” One said with a silly smile on his face, as if it wasn’t stupid and dangerous, putting them all at risk.

“It’s dangerous. If you don’t stop, I’m gonna tell Rosita.”

“Shut up!” The moment Anna saw Judith getting pushed to the ground, she gave Adam to Gracie, Aaron’s daughter and grabbed her wooden sword and approached but by the time she got to their level, Judith was holding up her sword to his throat.

“Say it again. I dare you.” She threatened him. Whatever he had said to her, it rubbed her the wrong way but she wasn’t surprised. Anna put her hand above her sword.

“Judith, don’t.” The girl looked him and down and reluctantly lowered her weapon, which was the moment the boy chose to retaliate and say something stupid, but he apparently didn’t know he should have kept quiet.

“Stay away from me, you psycho.”

“Okay, you bette shut your mouth.” Anna rose her voice, speaking over him and pushing him away. She didn’t put much strength this time so he only lost his balance a little but she could have hurt him much more. She wanted to try and be the bigger person. Anna held out her hand to Judith to borrow her sword and the girl obliged. When the young woman walked towards them with the weapon, they got scared and stepped away with panic in their eyes but then she simply stabbed the walker’s head pocking out the wall.

“Now, get the fuck outta here, or you’re gonna have troubles I can assure you.” Anna warned them before giving the sword back to Judith. They stayed quiet, kind of looking at each other. She thanked Gracie for keeping Adam and she followed the young girl as she walked away silently. Whatever he told her, it had upset her, and Anna could tell. She had been there. Their paths parted when Anna went to put Adam in her room so he could have his afternoon nap and she walked around the houses, looking for Judith when she heard muffled sniffs, she took a few steps and found Judith seated on the steps behind the house, holding broken planks of woods on her laps and some pieces lying at her feet.

“Hey. What is this?” Anna asked, not knowing what it was but assuming it was something Carl had done with her when she was a baby. It was so long ago. She couldn’t quite remember his voice anymore. Judith stared at the big hand mark in blue paint, probably Carl’s hand.

“Carl made this with me when I was younger… Now it’s broken, and he’s gone. Everybody is.” She replied, her voice breaking with sadness. What the girl said made Anna teary as well. They all had lost so much, so young. Even though Anna had grown up, remembering the people she had lost was hard but Judith was still a kid and very much in the middle of her grief. Rosita climbed a few steps and rested her arm on the railing.

“I miss them all, too.”

“Does it get easier?” Anna sat down next to her, taking a silent but deep breath, looking in the distance for a second. She always wondered if it would get easier and about 15 years later, she still missed her mom like the little kid she was when she died. She was stil traumatised but had to deal with it and keep going. The times where she stopped were the times when things started to stagnate and not moving forward and that’s not good because the days it all breaks is going to be even harder than before.

“I’d be lying if I said it did.” She admitted.

“I’m worried I’ll start to forget about them.”

“You might forget their voice, but they will always be with you.” Anna told her softly. “You know, I was your age when the outbreak happened. That’s when I lost my mom. It was almost 15 years ago, maybe a little less… I still miss her all the time. She had been diagnosed with cancer a few months prior. When she died, my dad burned down the house and we left. For a very long time, it was only the two of us. Because of who he then became, it wasn’t the best of relationship but he was my anchor. He did awful things, but always protected me, and managed to keep us going. My mom’s death really fucked him up.” She bit her lips, frowning a little, her eyes getting teary as she tried to hold up the tears from running down her face. “Both my parents always tried to make sure I was strong enough to survive in life, whether it was the old world or this one. And Carl and your dad did the same thing for you. So you’d always be able to get through the tough times ‘cause we always must keep going. Pieces of wood are nice. I have a couple pictures in my necklace.” She gently put her hand on Judith. “But you don’t need that to remember how much they loved you. We’re gonna fix it, okay?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled. They then went into the house, looking for glue and other things they could use to repair the broken handprints. Rosita met them in the way and went to help them. She stayed with Judith when Anna left a moment to check on Adam but he was sleeping peacefully so she came back. The moment she stepped in the kitchen, Rosita and Judith were bent over the radio. Anna jogged to them.

“Eugene, are you okay?”

“Rosita? Oh, it’s dang good to hear your voice.”

“You too. I got Judith and Anna here.”

“Hi. Are you all safe?” Judith enquired.

“Hello. Hello guys. Yes, we’re all safe. We’re doing okay.” He replied. “Uh, how are things?”

“Well, the war’s over.” Rosita went on to explain. “Uh, Alpha and Beta are dead. But… Alexandria’s trashed, and we’re running out of food.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t get…” His voice started breaking up over the radio and they couldn’t understand a word of what he said.

“Yeah. Eugene? Eugene, you still there?” Rosita tried to get back in contact with him but in vain. “Eugene, where are you?”

“Is he gone?” Judith wondered.

“The signal was fine so far... looks like someone interrupted it on his end.” Anna and Rosita looked at each other in confusion. Something wasn’t right, but they had no idea what. They couldn’t know what happened on Eugene’s side for the conversation to be cut so short.

Not long after the incident with the walkers lurking around the camp because a wall had fallen, a storm passed through Alexandria and made matters worse. The survivors had managed to get rid of the zombies but now, they had to wait it out, barricading themselves in the house, praying for their survival because they knew that the storm would weaken the already fragile walls and the walkers would enter again. Judith, Gracie, Rick Jr and Hershel were all sat against a wall together while the adults around them pushed pieces of furnitures to the windows, hanging planks across them to protect themselves if the walkers tried to enter the home. A baby was crying in another room. Anna looked around, holding Adam in her arms, humming a lullaby to his ear to keep him calm. She was lucky to have such a calm toddler. Whoever’s baby was screaming like that was probably having a much harder time calming the child down. Despite being closed, the front door was trembling because of the wind. Magda took a closer look and Rosita looked at her. The noise was becoming rather annoying.

“What’s with that door?”

“It’s rotted out. This storm keeps up, it’ll shake apart.” On her words, thunder rang outside, making the kids jump and the babies started crying again. Even Adam. Anna followed Nabila and Magda to the room where the younger kids were so she could calm him down. From the other room, they heard a window break and the door slam open, followed by brief screams of panic. She went back, standing in the hallway and saw them keeping the door closed, a few of them pressing against it. Judith stood up and looked out the window. Outside the rain was pouring, lighting striking across the darkened sky. Anna had been through storms like this. She remembered the one that occurred a few years ago, with all that snow they were stuck in a shed and had to move to the house where the others were. Judith thought she had heard Daryl’s dog in the distance after it had ran off and a couple of them went after her, among which was Anna. The cold penetrating her clothes, down to her bones and she got lost in the storm. She either slipped or got her ankle caught by a walker trapped under the snow; she couldn't quite remember but either way she fell and twisted her ankle. After that, her memory of that night was very hazy, but her father eventually found her and saved her from freezing to death. But now, her was nowhere to be found to save her so she had to make sure she wouldn’t need any saving, for her and Adam. They had to survive for when Alden would be coming back.

“What was that?” Judith enquired after hearing a loud bang. From where she stood, Anna could see out the window and she saw a large sheet of metal sliding down the street, pushed by both the rain and furious wind.

“A piece of the wall.” That couldn’t be good news. They then stepped away from the door and windows. Walkers were going to enter Alexandria and none of them would be able to do anything because going out there would be as dangerous as staying inside. The main thing that was bothering Anna in this moment was that she had to be extra careful, another life depended on her for survival. She had to put her son’s survival first, not that she liked having to sit this one out if they came to having to fight off the dead because would have it happened a few years back, she would have had her knife in hand, already ready to stab some rotting skull but now things were wildly different. She had to take on a whole new approach to this situation. She went to the room with the children, sat down on a chair and rocked Adam in her arms, looking out a barricaded window, focusing on staying calm and keeping him calm. Crying woud surely draw the walkers to their hideout.

A few of the survivors separated into three teams at the counsel of Aaron, his group went to try and put out a fire that caught in the windmill, Carol’s had to go put the wall back together and Rosita and the rest of them remained in the house to protect everyone that was in it. Anna couldn’t wait for this storm to pass anc for the sky to get clear but it wasn’t going to happen any time soon and she had to prepare herself for it to get worse once the walkers would reach them. She wasn’t about to get bit a third time either. Once Adam had went to sleep, Anna put him down in a crib. She noticed Nabila looking at her. She could see the young woman was rather restless, stressed out by the storm but also because her loved ones being far away from Alexandria so she told her to go with the others in the living room and Anna thanked her, having no need to get told this twice. She brought some more planks she found to Rosita and started helping put them across the windows. Getting some action helped her numb the worry that overwhelmed her when she thought of Alden and her father and things went fine until Gracie started screaming. She was by the broken window. They didn’t have much planks so it hd been loosely barricaded and a waker stuck his arm inside. In the blink of an eye, Judith cut his hand off and Anna rushed to them, stabbing him under the chin before stepping away. This was only the beginning. There woud be more dead coming for sure. A second after getting rid of that walker, a second one came. He was taken care of by a man whose name Anna didn’t know and Rosita and a coupe others rushed to the window to put more planks.

“They’re all over out there.” Lydia said, looking around with wide eyes.

“Radio Carol, tell her there must be another breach.” Rosita instructed and Lydia and Dianne hurried away. She then had Judith extinguish all the candles in the room. The lot of them stood there, in a silence perturbed by the snarling of the dead as they cramped against the walls and their eyes swept around them, holding their breaths. Rosita and Lydia ran to hold the door in place, blocking the doorknob from turning with a chair while the walker banged on it. Dianne joined them after a minute.

“Oh, the hinges are coming apart!” Lydia looked up, strands of hair in her face. Anna held onto her knife, gulping.

“And the frame.” Dianne added.

“What are you doing?” The teenager asked Rosita when she glanced outside and jogged to the table to get something.

“I’m buying us time.” She came back and stood in front of the door, a long machete in her hands. “Close the door behind me. On my count. One... Two… three!”

Dianne then opened the door and Rosita disappeared outside. They closed it after her and held it as they did before. Judith stepped near a window and looked outside, followed by Gracie. Rosita was on the porch, smashing the walkers’ heads with the machete but a minute later, they heard banging coming from the door. Dianne and Lydia glanced at each other and opened. Rosita was panting, soaking wet as she stepped inside the house.

“Let’s stay away from the windows.” She told the children in a low voice, out of breath. This first situation of the night was handled but it would be definitely not be the first disturbance and it didn’t take long for it to take a whole other turn. More walkers were gathered around the house, trying to force their way in. This wasn’t gonna held them for long.

“Do I need to radio Aaron and Carol?” Dianne asked.

“No. They need to put out that fire and close those breaches.” Rosita retorted.

“If we get everyone upstairs, we can hold them off to the first floor, right?” Lydia wondered, panicking. When Rosita then ordered them to do, they immidietaly cleared the room. Anna went to grab Adam while the babies started crying again and with Nabila and another woman, they climbed the stairs trying to calm down their little ones.

A few hours later, day broke, and the storm had finally calmed down, no thunder anymore but rain and wind were still going strong, though less than last night. Dozens and dozens of walkers were still entering by the house despite the uninterrupted efforts of Rosita and Lydia who managed to keep them on the first floor. They couldn't go any further than the stairs where the children and a few adults were hiding. Anna had noticed Judith and Gracie were missing and she had no idea where they could have gone but it couldn't have been far. Dianne had realized that two and she went in the staircase to tell Rosita and Lydia about it. Having to care for her baby, Anna stayed with Nabila and the others, safe in the room and Adam slept on her chest like everything was fine. She wished she could be in his place, just napping.

Calm had come back in Alexandria. It had almost been a week that the other survivors went away to find food. In all that time, Anna had been longing for the return of her father and Alden. She couldn’t wait to see them again after so much worry. She wanted to hold them in her arms and see Alden smile at Adam. Once they would be back, they could finally start the renovation of the camp again. The corspes of the walkers were put in piles and burned off. Trees had fallen and there were lots of damages caused by the wind, but it was over. Anna carried Adam outside when she saw Maggie, Daryl and Gabriel in the distance. She didn’t take another look and walked at a quick pace, right after Judith who jumped in Daryl’s arms. Maggie reunited with her son and Anna looked around, still waiting for Alden and her father to show up but this bad feeling that she had right before they left came back. When Maggie finally stepped towards her silently, Anna handed Adam to the woman who helped Nabila and her care for the kids during the storm.

“Where are they? Where’s Alden? Where’s my dad?” She was asking the questions but her brain was catching up with reality and so her eyes were beginning to feel with tears. Maggie softly put her hands on her shoulders. Anna had never felt such compassion and empathy from Maggie before, which only made her more worried.

“Negan didn’t want me to kill him, and he thought you might be better off without him—”

“What?” She shook her head, looking around and crossing Gabriel, Daryl and Carol’s gaze and they looked like they already knew what Maggie was telling her. She couldn’t believe her dad left her on her own. He abandoned her and it was once among so many others that she could no longer count them. “Alden— where’s Alden? Where is he?”

“A day or so after we left, Alden was attacked.” Maggie swallowed harshly as she was speaking. “Anna… Alden died.”

Anna froze in front of her for a few seconds, but when she processed what she had just told her, the young woman brought her hand to her mouth, muffling the cries that quickly turned into loup sobs and she screamed as if her limbs were being torn from her body. That was exactly how it felt; like her heart was being ripped out of her chest. She fell to her knees and Maggie followed her movement, taking her in her arms. The latter must have been very shaken and touched by Alden’s death for granting her such tenderness, trying to comfort her. Everyone around them was watching, feeling for her but she couldn’t see them. Her eyes were closed shut as she shed enough tears to fill an ocean. This couldn’t possibly be true. A hand on her stomach, her forehead restign against Maggie’s shoulder she wailed, letting out a gut-wrenching cry of pain, grief and anger all at the same time. It was impossible for her to fully realize that she had truly lost Alden and that he was never coming back. She had never been in love before, and he was the one. He loved her too and cared for her and she was so happy to have her own family that she was starting with him, and it was being taken away from her in the worst way possible. Something else that was too much for her to believe after everything she had been through, was that her father abandoned her, again. She never thought she would feel betrayed and left behind by him like she did back when the Saviors still existed. She thought such things were past them, but he left her. It was exactly like the day she found her mom turned. Now, her dad was gone, and her lover too. She was all alone. This cruel world reminded her once again, that people are never there forever.

Still crouched in front of her, Maggie cupped her face in her hands and tried to catch her attention. Anna had been crying her eyes out for almost ten minutes straight and was only getting quiet because she heard Jerry screaming from the gate. Maggie helped her up while everyone looked at their friend, wondering what was going on. Anna took a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly and looked at them grabbing weapons and walking away, climbed the ladder to get onto the watchtower. She got her son back and held him tightly against her chest, trying to trying not to breakdown and cry heartbreakingly like she had just done in front of her peers. One day, she would have to explain him his dad was dead, but right now, he didn’t have the ability to understand such words and it was the worst part. He had just seen his mom scream and cry and had started crying too until she took him in her arms. She stayed with the group while Daryl, Maggie and Jerry held whoever was at their door at gunpoint with their weapons.

“Everyone, get ready!” Daryl shouted. Below, they all looked at each other, not seeing what they were seeing but then they all heard it. This familiar voice. It was Eugene. Which made even more confusing until the gate opened and people in white and striped gear entered Alexandria. The survivor were gathered on the porch of a house right in front of the windmill, still standing despite the fire, while the soldiers that came were loading off ressources for them. The children were seated in the front and, holding Adam, Anna stood next to Aaron, by their right. Eugene stoof before everyone, holding his hat in his hands awkwardly and spoke.

“Ezekiel, Yumiko, and I set out on a journey. Charged ourselves with finding hope in our darkest of days. Suffice to say, we hit the proverbial jackpot. It’s probably best that I step aside so you can all hear it from the horse’s mouth as it were.” He ended his introduction speech and let another man step in his place. Anna was staring at him, frowning. Her eyes were still a little swollen and bloodshot from her break down. She already didn’t really like the man’s face. She didn’t like this stupid, sufficient smile on his face. “I give you Mr. Lance Hornsby, diplomatic reprentative of The Commonwealth.”

“Hello. I’m Lance. Thank you for allowing us into your home. I must say I am impressed with everything you’ve built here and what I’ve heard of your other communities. But it’s clear…” He briefly looked around him. “you’ve fallen on hard times and that is where The Commonwealth iw more than willing to help. If you remain, we can provide labor and material to help you build back all you’ve lost. However, if any are interested… I do have another, potentially more interesting choice to offer.”

6 MONTHS LATER

Anna lied in a hospital bed, alone in her room, staring at the ceiling. She frowned, closing her eyes as she held her stomach, curling up on the side, taking deep breaths in. She had been told she was at around eight months of pregnancy; apparently she shouldn’t have had labor start a month early but there she was. Contractions had started last night, and they were getting way stronger, regular and closer together. The pressure in her back was increasing. It felt very strange and heavily uncomfortable more than it hurt. It was the most painful when the contraction hit. She was silently crying, wishing Alden would be here, or her dad, but one died and the other abandoned her. She had no one, or so she thought. She lifted her head upon hearing a couple knocks on the door. A nurse came in along with Carol and Ezekiel, with whom she was living now that she had moved to The Commonwealth. Carol had been somewhat of a mother figure for the young woman and she was very grateful of her and Ezekiel’s support. She was very lonely in her new home, and it most definitely didn’t feel like home at all. Especially without her dad by her side, but it had been her decision to come here, maybe out of anger and spite, but still.

She exhaled loudly as she turned on her back, a hand still on her stomach and Ezekiel and Carol came by her side while the nurse checked a few things. She gave Anna some water and she drank it as if she hadn’t drank in months. Her throat felt dry.

“How are you feeling?” Carol asked holding her free hand in hers, Ezekiel by his side. Anna let her head roll on the pillow and looked at them, trying to sketch a smile, wiping off the few tears that rolled on her cheeks.

“I’m fine… I guess.”

“We'll be right next to you, okay? We aren't going anywhere.” The both of them knew that she was alone and had no one but them to rely on and she was happy they were there for her now that she needed them.

“Thank you, Ezekiel.” She winced for a second when she felt a sudden pain. “Thank you, Carol.”

They grabbed a couple chairs and sat just a couple feet from her. The nurses than came near Anna, wearing sterile gloves on her hands and a friendly smile on her face and after talking with her patient, she proceeded to check if she was dilating correctly, asking her to describe how she was feeling. After so much waiting and just taking in the pain, she finally reached the 10 centimetres and felt the urge to push. She declined an epidural; as if this was going to prove anything, or maybe was it just because of her lack of knowledge of how painful it was going to be but she was ready to take it. Maybe was it because she was in a safe space like an hospital where if they were any complications, she would have less risk to die than if she was delivering in Alexandria but now, she was getting to the heart of the matter. The baby she made with Alden was almost here. There was some excitation thrown into this mix of anxiety and pain. The nurse had been joined by another at that point and she was listening to them as they told her to either push, moment during which she would let deep grunting sounds and yell, sometimes letting a high-pitched cry out because of the pain or take a few deep breaths and do it all over again, all during which she held one of Carol's and one of Ezekiel's hands, grinding their fingers under her grip. For a little over three hours, she alternated between pushing as best she could and breathing. Her face oozed with sweat and was marked by the grimaces of pain she had made but she let out a heavy sigh when she felt the baby finally pass and let her head fall back for a second. Before she could really see her baby, she had to push out the afterbirth, which made a weird, squishy sound as it came out but then it was finally over. She was exhausted like she had never been before. Carol ran a cool wipe over her face and helped her drink a sip of water. Anna then slightly straightened up, looking over at the nurse holding her baby after it had been cleaned up.

“It's a beautiful little girl.” She told her with a smile as she approached to hand over the child to her mother. Anna was completely worn out but she held her to her chest with a tender smile dawning her face, tears filling her eyes.

“How are you going to name her?” Ezequiel wondered.

“I’m going to name her Lucille… Lucille Smith.” She softly touched the infant’s face with her finger. The baby girl slept in her arms, opening and closing her tiny mouth.

[To be continued…]

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Published (11/20/2022) by Andrea

Taglist: @cathrin2405 @kika64

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au-drayton-shenanigans · 2 months

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//ooc

While drawing the comic I keep saying I'll finish one day, I failed the lines extremely hard but turned it into something else as to not waste paper. It's kind of funny.

Oh and a small bit of lore will be dropped under it (I say small, but it became a long ramble. oops)

Carmine and Kieran from Bat's universe definitely care about Bat, but neither of them particularly like cloak guy.

Fun fact. The Kieran from Bat's universe is the one responsible for the big scar over cloak guy's nose. (not the pair of small ones on the side of his face- that's from another enemy Cloaky has made) (This is about the bigger one)

If I were to assign this art to part of the timeline, I'd say this is happening a very long time after that. Not that cloak guy wouldn't have done this sort of thing almost immediately after being cut by metal claws hufgytvtyjb (Just at the time cloak guy got cut, it was while they were hanging out in his universe and he didn't show people from home that he wears a magic cloak then)

Carmine and Kieran from Bat's universe along with Bat were there because cloak guy brought them to his home universe for the fun of it. To see what would happen and stuff. Mainly because cloak guy wanted to see the reaction his own universe's Carmine and Kieran would have towards another universe's version of them getting along with a Drayton.

They were all sitting in the league club room chatting. As expected, Carmine and Kieran from cloak guy's universe think it's insane and unnatural. Carmine from Bat's universe starts yelling to the other Carmine about how Bat was such a hero during the apocalypse and how selfless he is and all sorts of stuff. Other Carmine and Kieran say that sounds impossible for a Drayton.

Kieran from Bat's universe has some kind of telepathic something or other with Bat because of something that happened- they can do thought communication to each other and feel the other's emotion. Right now Kieran was angry on behalf of Bat feeling sad about being spoken so harshly about by the other Carmine and Kieran. Kieran from Bat's universe offers to explain to them in gruesome detail the horrible stuff everyone experienced in the apocalypse their universe went through and all the extra disaster they would have faced if Bat wasn't there. Then he says somethin like "Or I could bring the most feared creature from our universe here and he can put you through the same things in your nightmares and then you can carry some of the same mental scars that we do." Bat says "Please don't bring Hop here." (I should talk about Hop from Bat's universe sometime. He is hilarious in a dark and intimidating way) and Kieran says "But they're being so mean to you and I can't stand it." Bat says, tiredly, "I'm used to it". Kieran, being able to read exactly what Bat's emotions are and what they're coming from, can tell Bat is in fact not used to it. And shockingly, despite the unspeakable (for now) horrors Bat was in during the apocalypse, most of the negative mood he's in is originating from cloak guy, meaning somehow cloak guy has been stressing Bat out that bad.

Then with that, Kieran doesn't say another word. He gets up onto the table and goes toward cloak guy and gives a quick hard slash across his face with his monster arm. Only one of the claws hit because Kieran was a little blind with anger but there was . a lot of blood still. Cloak guy being cloak guy, and hiding from his own universe the fact he has superpowers, does some dramatic display of pretending to be in pain, but secretly he likes getting a new "battle scar"

#ooc

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radiant-reid · 3 years

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Impress Me

Summary: Spencer really can't cook, but he doesn't let it stop him from being the absolute best, most thoughtful boyfriend ever.

1. Hello! Can you please write a fic where Spencer decides to learn how to cook for y/n? 🥰 2. can you do a fluffy valentine’s day of readers first relationship and spencer spoiling her (maybe some smut) and just being the best s14/15 guy

a/n: wes is literally the loml so of course, i had to make #2 v-day fic using this gif. i didn't exactly do a s14/15 so you can imagine this with any era. chronologically, it's their first valentine's day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (Fluff)

Content Warning: swearing | tiny sexual themes towards the end | little bit of self doubt spencer

Word Count: 2.8k

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In his life, Spencer had never had someone who he wanted to impress as much as he wanted to impress Y/n. Spencer still felt like he had a lot to prove to her since he was her very first Valentine, and there was nothing he wanted more than to be her last.

He was so concerned about how to make it perfect that he joined Garcia and JJ in the Batcave during their midmorning gossip session. The wall full of computer screens, and his two longest-running colleagues had to be able to help.

"I need help." Spencer declared, sitting on the spare desk chair with a pout. They were both looking at him with frowns, confused about how they could help him when he usually knew everything but prompting him to continue. "It's Y/n."

Penelope's concerned face took over. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know what to do for Valentine's Day," Spencer explained, blushing about it.

One of the newest things he'd learned was how to stop doubting himself about being a bad boyfriend, and now he was back at stage one, unsure of how to do what had become his favorite job in the world.

"You haven't made plans yet?" JJ asked him, and he shook his head. "Spence, it's the twelfth."

He knew that. And he knew that meant there were two days to go, but he didn't understand it. "Yeah?"

"If you wanted to take her out, I think you probably missed your chance," Penelope explained, causing him grave concern. "It's okay. Just choose something else to do."

Spencer's brain was overclouded with possibilities, but he wasn't sure what was perfect. "Like what?"

"You want to impress her, right?" JJ asked, already knowing the answer that Spencer confirmed with a nod. "Do something intimate. Like have a picnic or cook dinner or build a blanket fort or cook her breakfast." She spewed out recommendations. None of which sounded doable to him.

"Ooo, make her pasta. Rossi has that great recipe." Penelope suggested, recalling the mouth-watering dish Rossi had made a year ago, so memorable it was his signature dish.

Spencer bit his lip, thinking about it for a moment. "I've never cooked for her before." Or cooked for anyone else. He was a kid in college with no time or skill to cook anything but ramen. It couldn't be that hard, though, could it?

"See, that will impress her." Penelope convinced him, smiling at the older version of the young boy, who was so unsure about talking to anyone.

"O-okay." Spencer nodded before his insecurities sunk in, and he bit his bottom lip. "What if it's not perfect? It needs to be. For her, but also because she's never had a valentine before."

Penelope pushed him on the shoulder lightly. "Boy wonder, don't worry so much."

"I just want her to be happy," Spencer mumbled, eyes cast downward at his shoes.

"Give me your phone," Penelope demanded, holding out her hand. Unsure of what she wanted, Spencer slid it out of his back pocket. She turned it on, showing him the lockscreen that he saw every time he looked at a text message or got a phone call. A little moment of joy between the gruesome crime scene details or photos. "See, happy."

The photo was the epitome of happiness. Taking in Rossi's back garden, it was Y/n and Spencer in their best clothing. His arm was around her waist, and their faces were inches apart, close enough they could probably kiss, but instead, they were grinning. Wide grins filled with pure joy as they forgot about their surroundings while getting lost in each other's eyes. Even if he was having a bad day, it made him smile.

Believing her, Spencer nodded. "Thank you." He said to both of them, getting back up to leave them to all the other gossip.

"Make sure you get wine." JJ reminded him.

"And dessert," Penelope added.

Spencer flashed them a thumbs up, slipping out the door and making his way to Rossi's office.

Once he had the recipe that Rossi was more than glad to give him, Spencer knew he had two days to get everything else perfect. With everyone's reassurance, he felt like it would be okay.

Until he had to actually cook.

The kitchen in his apartment should have been used a lot more than it was. All he usually did was pour cereal and reheat leftovers. Nothing as complicated as the pasta dish Rossi had assured him he would be able to make. After all, it was just math, right?

It started out okay. Spencer managed to make the pasta by hand once he brought fresh eggs then cut it into scientifically perfect strips. The accuracy took far too much time, and Y/n was knocking at the door when he started the complex sauce.

"Hi, lovely." Spencer greeted her, softening when he saw her. "You look gorgeous."

His reactions were something she adored, and he looked stunned when he saw her in a new dress- red, of course- with her hair and makeup done nicely.

"Hi, handsome." Y/n leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek as she walked into his apartment. "I got you something." She mentioned, handing him the gift in her hands.

"Thank you," Spencer replied, kissing her on the lips to show his appreciation. He guided her through the apartment she'd been through a hundred times like a maître d' at a restaurant.

Y/n's eyes widened when she saw his dining room, a black table cloth over the table perfectly set with cutlery, flowers, and wine. It even smelt nice, like vanilla-scented candles and his cologne. Definitely something he'd spent a lot of time on, and, like everything he did, it made her feel special.

"Spence." Her eyes already felt a little watery as she beamed up at him. "You did all this?"

He chuckled from beside her, nodding as he pulled her body closer to him. "I did." He answered. "Just to see that smile." How did she get so lucky?

He placed the gift down on the table in the seat that didn't already have a present then uncorked the fancy bottle of Italian wine he'd brought for the very occasion.

"You." Y/n started, taking a glass of wine he'd poured. "Are the most amazing person ever."

Spencer shook his head, picking up his own wine glass and holding it up so he could make a toast. "To you, my girl."

She shook her head, moving her glass so he couldn't clink it. "To you." She proposed a different toast.

"To us." He settled on what she thought was an acceptable toast. She tapped her glass against his, wrapping one arm around his neck while he held her waist. "Did you know the tradition of clinking glasses came from medieval times when lots of wine was poisoned? The host would pour wine from the guest's glass into their own and drink it to prove it wasn't poisoned, and the guest would clink the glasses if they trusted them."

Chuckling down her sip of wine, Y/n giggled a little more. "Spence, why would you tell me that when I'm drinking the wine, you might have poisoned?"

Spencer clenched his teeth together before breaking out in a chuckle. "You saw me open it."

"Hmm, but you are a magician." She countered, tipping her head to the side like she was considering if he spilled her some poison. Playfully rolling his eyes, Spencer took a sip of his wine to debunk her hypothesis. "I really wouldn't have cared if it was poisoned, though, because it tastes damn good." She commented, swirling it around like she was a wine connoisseur.

"I'd love to say I picked it, but I didn't." He truthfully admitted he outsourced help.

It only made Y/n happier. Just the fact that he cared enough to ask for advice made her heart warm. "Well, thank you. For all of this, I really appreciate it."

"I really appreciate you," Spencer reciprocated, eyes drawn to her lips before looking back up at her eyes, definitely having been caught.

Y/n leaned up to kiss him, starting out softly before ditching her wine on the table in favor of tugging on his bottom lip until she could properly make out with him. Spencer gave in quickly, fumbling with his glass so much he almost spilled it because he was too enamored with kissing her to put it on the table.

Apparently, oxygen wasn't a necessity to Spencer because when she pulled away to breathe, his lips were on her neck.

Oxygen was also necessary to keep a fire going, and there was a lot of that in his kitchen. "Uh, Spence." She tried not to moan it out. "Is that your smoke alarm?"

It took him a second to snap out of what he was doing, pulling back and looking in the direction of the kitchen, which was smoky. "Fuck." He groaned with an uncharacteristic swear to express his frustration.

Y/n followed him towards the kitchen, seeing what had happened. Physically, she could taste the smell, wincing when she walked in. "Spence, what is going on?" She asked, noticing the pans and pots on the stove and how messy his kitchen actually was. Clearly, the perfectly set table was a facade for the chaos going on in his apartment. The water in a pot had boiled over, and the pasta had started to burn. Whatever was originally in the pan was now black.

Once he got it under control and she opened the windows, he turned to her with a distraught look. "I'm sorry. I really wanted to do something special, but, evidently, I can't cook even with Rossi's instructions designed for two-year-olds." He apologized, feeling terrible about the poor job he'd done at cooking her dinner.

More than anything, she hated seeing him sad, especially when he thought she wouldn't be delighted with something he'd done. He'd always been her first, and he wanted to do everything possible to ensure he was her last.

"Baby." She cooed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and hugging him. "It's the thought that counts."

Spencer scoffed. "That's something someone says when they're trying to make another someone feel better about the terrible job they'd done."

Y/n pulled back, making sure he could see her shaking her head. "No. Well, maybe sometimes." She lightened the mood, getting him laughing. "But I'm not lying. You cared enough about me to make me dinner even though you can't cook." She flashed him a light smile, and he smiled back. "But you care, and that's all that's important to me. That's all I've ever wanted. You're all I've ever wanted."

By the end of her declaration of love, Spencer felt much less like crying. "Thank you, and I'm so sorry."

"You know what else is Italian?" She asked with the award-winning smile back on her face from cheering him up. "Pizza!" She cheered.

"Well, technically, it's not also Italian because pasta is usually credited to a dish Marco Polo brought back from his voyage to China." Spencer delivered the correct information. Some people found it annoying, but Y/n didn't love anything more than his facts.

Cupping his cheek and stroking her thumb over his cheekbone, she kissed him. "So, we can order pizza?"

"Yes." Spencer agreed, already reaching for his phone.

"Pineapple." Y/n reminded him.

She shoved his shoulder when he jokingly shook his head. "That's a crime against Italian food. I'll tell Rossi." He threatened, eyeing her carefully.

"I think it's a crime to burn both pasta and sauce." She countered. A firm believer in it never being too soon to make a joke. "So, if you don't tell, I won't."

Spencer held out his pinky, waiting for her to lock hers around it. "I promise." She sealed the deal, smirking up at him.

"So... we have, what, 20 minutes until it turns up?" She questioned, with something mischievous in her voice.

"Yup," Spencer confirmed with a nod. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Y/n nodded affirmatively. "Most definitely." She grabbed his hands and pulled him out of the kitchen and back to the living room. "Presents!" She cheered, earning a smile from Spencer, who was infatuated by how adorable she was.

She took his one again, switching it with her one in his hands. It felt like Christmas morning, and the anticipation was brewing for the big reveal.

Tearing off the pink wrapping paper with hearts like a little kid, Y/n beamed when she revealed the gift. "You didn't!?" She exclaimed.

"Oh, I so did," Spencer replied, delaying opening his gift in favor of watching her reaction. A box of red eternity roses. Something she had talked about once that he must have remembered. She was lightly crying with the box in her hands. "Because roses symbolize love and my love for you is infinite."

"Stop," Y/n complained, pushing his shoulder. "You're so charming that it's making me cry." She wiped the tears up while trying to hold the roses she'd treasure forever.

Spencer helped her out, cupping her cheeks as he placed a passionate kiss on his lips. "My turn." He declared in a whisper. Delicately, he picked up the gift, unwrapping it before grinning. "How did you even find this?" He asked, utter bewilderment on his features.

It was an original copy of a book Spencer had been looking for in almost perfect condition. "Some serious sleuthing on every book nerd platform out there." She answered, smirking at the nickname she'd given him. Confused, he frowned. "Penelope." She changed her answer.

"Well, thank you. I love it." So much that he was going to struggle to read it that night when all he could do was think about her.

"There's more." She nodded to the rest of the gift bag.

Spencer dug through the tissue paper, pulling out a pair of socks. "What? These are amazing." He said, fascinated with them.

They were hand-knitted socks because she knew his feet got cold when the blood failed to travel down his long limbs and to his extremities. Of course, they were mismatched. One pink with hearts and the other with a purple gingham print.

"Mm, I'm glad you like them." She said, watching him sit down and take off his current socks so he could put the new ones on.

"So comfortable." He sighed, fascinated with the softness and how warm they were.

It took so little to make him happy, and all she wanted to do was spoil him every day. "My sweet boy." She cooed, pulling him back up so she could kiss him again.

Eventually, the pizza turned up, and Spencer hesitated when he went to put it on the table. "Should we eat on the couch?" He offered, glancing at the more comfortable option.

"Please." Y/n nodded. Wherever they spent time together, it didn't matter.

They sat down to eat the pizza, laughing at each other's jokes and unable to stop their grins. Every day, it felt like they couldn't love each other anymore, and, each day, they were proven wrong. It was almost like they'd known each other forever, bonded on such a deep level it seemed unachievable. It wasn't always flawless, but it was always outstanding.

Spencer turned to her once they'd almost finished eating. "I'm really sorry this didn't go as planned." He apologized, the guilt making his heart plunge into a dark place.

"Spencer, I don't know how it could get better than this." She truthfully admitted. Did she think she'd end up eating pizza on his couch? No, but did it matter when he made her laugh and feel more loved than anything else? Not at all.

"It will. If you'll spend next Valentine's Day with me." He promised, taking another bite of his pizza.

She needed to see how he'd rise to that challenge. "Sure, but I love this." This pure bliss that they'd created.

"Noted." Spencer nodded, pulling her even closer into his side.

"I feel bad you set up the table." She guiltily admitted, looking up at him with a pout.

Spencer shrugged, not finding a single problem with their situation. "I did buy Tiramisù for dessert." He mentioned.

It earned Spencer a wide smile. "Oh, you really are perfect." Y/n reminded him before smirking when she thought of something else. Sitting up, she threw a leg over his hips, coming to sit on his lap. "I know something else you could have for dessert." She offered, cheekily grinning.

"Yeah, alright, okay." He stuttered out all at once, not wasting any time getting down to really impressing her with his skills.

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aquanova99 · 2 years

Note

Could you do a hc of the guards with a human mate that is oblivious to just how scary and powerful their mate is being they only see the nice loveable side so they are always confused on why everyone fears them.

So…in my head this isn’t going to go well for reader. You can’t hide from your future forever and if you’re going to be turned anyway you should know who you’re going to be with and what their job entails. Also if they’re secretaries first, they know. If you come on a tour, it’s hard not to know. If they found you whilst on a mission, maybe? But most likely you saw them doing their job and that’s how they ran into you

Alec

Why aren’t you scared? I’m scary, his words not mine

You respond with yeah okay 🤪

He honestly isn’t really sure how he feels, no one has thought of him as anything other than unsettling at best

He also is unsure if you’re being serious or trying to upset by undermining what he can do

He is inclined to believe the latter but follows closely to see if you maintain the same energy around others

When you do he feels a tightness in his chest because for the first in either life someone only sees the good parts of him

Probably spoils you for a little bit for ever doubting you

He is going to show you a fraction of his gift so you somewhat understand where others are coming from

Jane

Uhm loveable side? Maybe tolerant side but Jane is not an overtly affectionate person but you do notice her efforts

If you truly believed she wasn’t scary she would be insulted, she’s one of the most powerful vampires you don’t want to feel her power

No seriously, push and she will show you why she’s someone to be feared

She appreciates that you see her as more than her gift but she isn’t going to hide who she is or what she has to do during confrontations

So better to know the full truth and stop insisting

Demetri

He isn’t feared more respected, he has a high position in the guard for a reason

So he understands why you wouldn’t be afraid of him since you really haven’t had to see anything but that’s not going to last forever

He is one of the more informative ones

He will spare you the gruesome details but he’s not going to let you come into his life unprepared

That would be worse tbh so he is up until the date your turned teach and quiz you on things you are going to see and experience as a vampire

This includes his job and why you need to understand not everything is sunshine and rainbows

Felix

Oh this poor soul

His heart hurts at you not realizing how scary he can be

Because he knows your illusion is going to break sooner or later

He lets you believe that he isn’t all that bad and that people are a little more dramatic around here

But the guilt eats him alive

He explains that he couldn’t tell you earlier because everyone is already scared of him and he is terrified you’ll feel the same but you deserve to know who you’re with

Explains. Overly explains. He tells you why people fear and why they should. He assures you that he would never hurt you and duh you knew that already but it’s cute to see him that stressed out

Is exhausted after trying to hide why everyone is scared of him for so long, thinks you’ll be an amazing vampire by your reaction on being thrown into your new life already and this talk solidified it

#aquas asks #volturi coven #the volturi guard #the volturi coven #felix volturi #demetri volturi #jane volturi #alec volturi

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writeyouin · 8 months

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Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) X GN-Reader - Sinless Sinners - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Learning To Get Along

A/N – So, a user on A03 suggested the snake servants’ new names. It was a stroke of genius on their behalf, and I can only thank them for it.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

FEMALE VERSION HERE

MALE VERSION HERE

Tag-List: @reverse-soe @x-uno

Do you think you can manage that? Lucifer’s words hung in the air, creating an icy barrier between you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, creating an annoyed crease along your forehead.

“No,” You told Lucifer, who stared at you incredulously.

You saw the look he was giving you and decided to explain yourself.

“I don’t-” Lucifer started.

Who were you, really?

Well, it wouldn’t take long to uncover your ruse. Lucifer had ways of telling an Angel from a Demon, and once you were asleep, he would know.

“Yeah,” Lucifer said evenly. “I love my Charlie.”

“So, you’ll try then.”

Lucifer nodded his head in consent.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

The sentiment went unreturned as your King returned to his chambers, biding his time until you slept.

In the short time you had spent there, it had become home.

You sighed and dared not ponder further when you needed to get some sleep.

Throwing yourself on the plush bed, you got comfortable, arranging yourself how you liked, then leaning over to your bedside table, you blew out the cherry candle you had previously lit.

Lucifer waited till the late twilight hours before leaving his workshop. He transformed himself into a snake, slithering silently through the Hallways, ensuring that you wouldn’t hear him coming.

However, not wishing to alert you to his presence, Lucifer decided to opt for the other method.

He pulled a small yellow twenty-sided stone from his pocket and baring his fangs in anger, he pressed it lightly against your skin.

Nothing happened.

Very well.

He would keep his word and… Tolerate you.

He left your room as quietly as he had entered it. Tomorrow, things would be different.

Lucifer didn’t sleep that night; the idea of change was terrifying.

The next morning, when Lucifer finally resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to face you eventually, he headed downstairs, assuming that was where you were.

“JUST TRY IT!” He heard you yell. “TRY! OPEN YOUR MOUTH, DAMN IT!”

“ARGH!” You grunted as you were dislodged from its back.

“What- What is this?” Lucifer asked, confused.

“Oh shit!” You cursed, embarrassed to have been caught in a less-than-dignified position. You attempted to regain a little composure by standing up, then held up a handful of wadded-up pancake.

“Do they eat?” You demanded, referring to the reptilian cleaners, “’Cos they’ve been in a picture frame their whole lives, and they must be hungry by now.”

Of all the stupid things you could have done, Lucifer couldn’t help but crack a smile, though he had the decency to hide his laugh behind a clenched fist and pass it off as a cough.

“They don’t need to.”

“Okay, but can they?”

“If they wanted to, I suppose so.”

You glared at the mushed-up pancake, “I fucking knew it. Spick, Span, eat your fucking breakfast!”

“I’m sorry, who now?” Lucifer asked.

“Well, they clean, don’t they? Spick and Span seem to fit unless you have something better to name them.”

Lucifer chuckled, a half-short-lived chuckle, but one all the same. You were more chaotic than he expected.

“Fine, if you want them to eat, you’ve got to cook in style.”

You couldn’t help laughing.

“See?” You struggled to get the words out, “I knew they’d like food. I’m just a shite cook.”

Lucifer gazed at his dishes proudly, even though they were no longer fit for either of your consumption.

“Hah,” You said, feeling somewhat awkward now that the moment had passed and Lucifer’s gaze was upon you, trying to figure you out. “I’ll uh, clean this up.”

“No need, leave it to Flim and Flam,” Lucifer said nonchalantly.

“You know that’s not their names.”

“Whatever. So… we’ve met, there was breakfast with a show. We done for today?”

“I don’t know. I was going to go into the City if you wanted to come.”

“I can’t. I have… plans.”

It would always be Lucifer going to their building, on their terms, usually at their behest.

“Plans? So, you’re setting up Charlie’s meeting today?” You guessed astutely. “You know, I’m walking that way too.”

“Fine. Let’s go,” He said, flicking his hand back blasély, even though he found the idea of walking the streets of Hell daunting.

It would be better if he could teleport there, but at least, by the end of the day, you would have something positive to report back to Charlie.

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bloodorangesoup · 3 years

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Ice Cream and Bad TV | B.B.

Request: Late night thoughts : The only porn bucky watches are the ones that come on tv at like 2 or 3 in the mornings. Imagine cuddling up with him on his living room floor, aimlessly clicking around until you stumble upon the channel & he gets flustered & shy about it & you fuck him while porn plays in the background. Like I think it’s so romantic🥺🥺 riding him while the soft glow of the tv illuminates his face. His moans & grunting blending in with the actors 😫😫

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble but I cannot for the life of me control myself)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ | cuddle fucking, unprotected sex(pretend ur on birth control for a sec)(still wrap it b4 your tap it), flustered Bucky, porn talk, the tiniest bit of sub!Bucky for like half a second, fluffy smut, you get the gist

My Masterlist

Notes: I did this in one sitting so sorry if it’s repetitive or has any mistakes. I think I have a major soft sport for flustered Bucky. I also had to think of a realistic name for a TV porn channel so bear with me. This is my first time writing smut in non-headcanon form so let me know how I did! Happy reading!

It was 2am on a Thursday night when your phone rang with your boyfriend's caller I.D. This wasn't the first time that Bucky had called you for this instance, it became a routine for you to talk him down after a nightmare and you prepared to do so when you picked up. Usually the first thing you would hear was his heavy breaths, the anxious buzz in his body making him fumble his words as he tried to focus on talking to you, so you were surprised to be met with still breathing and his typical deep, steady voice.

"Doll? You there?"

"Yeah, Buck, I'm here," you replied with a yawn, trying to sound as awake as possible. Bucky could hear the airiness of your voice and let out a sigh.

"Sorry, baby, I woke you up."

"You say that every time, I don't mind waking up for you. Besides, I don't have work tomorrow so I don't exactly need my beauty rest."

There was a pause. You could still hear static from the other side of the call but Bucky didn't say a word.

"Buck? You okay?" As if you snapped him out of a daydream, his hurried words rushed through the phone.

"Yeah yeah, sorry. I'm kind of out of it right now, I had another bad dream."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You had expected his usual answer of yes, then you would listen to his thoughts and comfort him through the horrific reality that were his nightmares.

"You said you don't have work tomorrow? Do you think you could come over right now? Actually never mind, I don't know what I'm saying, it's 2am." You could practically see Bucky shaking his head as he took back his question.

"I'll be there in twenty, James. You better have some blankets and pillows ready for me because we're taking over your couch."

Bucky let out a breath over the line, "See you soon, y/n, love you."

"Love you more," you said quickly before hanging up, not letting him get in the last 'I love you.'

Forty minutes later you found yourself on Bucky's lap on his living room floor. You two had abandoned the idea of the couch and chose to make a small fort with the couch as your scaffolding. There was a surprising amount of pillows and blankets surrounding the two of you, you had no idea Bucky even owned them all.

He sat with his back against the couch, your legs laid over his and your arms were around his neck, bringing his head down to your chest. He talked about his nightmare, sparing you the gruesome details, and once he was done he closed his eyes and leaned further into your chest, breathing in your scent. You gave the crown of his head a kiss and rested your head atop his. Comfortable silence washed over the two of you before you spoke up.

“You know what always makes me feel better?” you asked, lifting your head just enough to look down at him.

“What?” he mumbled into your chest. A soft smile graced your face at his cuteness.

“Ice cream and bad TV!” you announced excitedly before wiggling out of his grasp.

You did a little jog to his kitchen and reached down into the freezer to grab a small pint of ice cream you knew Bucky always kept stashed for you whenever you came around. Picking up two spoons and turning off all the lights in the apartment on your way, you quickly made your way back into the living room, lifting Bucky’s arms to situate yourself back into your position on his lap. You popped the lid of the small tub and handed it to Bucky along with a spoon. With your hands now free, you felt around in the dark for the remote and turned on the TV.

Waiting for the TV to completely turn on, you ate a spoonful of ice cream. You hummed at the taste of the cold sweetness coating your tongue. You gasped as you opened your eyes, finding Bucky scooping out some ice cream and lowering it to your mouth.

“Oh wait, let me make this cuter!” you squealed with your eyes wide.

Copying Bucky’s actions, you took a spoonful and lifted it to his lips, the both of you opening wide and feeding each other. You giggled at the cliché moment and Bucky couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at how adorable you were.

You turned back to the TV, lifting the remote in your hands to change the channel to anything but the news that was already playing on the screen. As you flipped through sports recaps, music channels, infomercials, and movies that were already almost over, you sighed.

“Ugh, there’s nothing good on. Maybe if I start from the end of the list there’ll be better stuff,” you huffed.

Before Bucky could register what you said you had already typed in the biggest number you could enter and began flipping down through channels. Surfing through the empty screens, you landed on one called HotNet and suddenly the screen was completely taken over by a pair of boobs which then cut to a woman on her back and a man on top of her, rutting into her at a slow pace, while her moans echoed throughout the apartment. You quickly shuffled with the remote, trying to turn the volume down from it’s loud setting, spooked at the loud, obscene noise coming from the speaker.

“Oh my gosh, I wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed into Bucky’s chest, “God, I hope your neighbors didn’t hear that.”

Bucky stared at the screen with wide eyes, hoping you would change the channel before noticing that the channel was in the On Demand section. You gasped through your laugh, collecting yourself before turning back to the TV and shaking your head.

“Jeez, I didn’t even know they still had porn like this on public television.” You looked back down at the remote, clicking the Guide button. Bucky’s heart stopped as the description took over the screen, the video still playing in the top right corner. In bold letters the words On Demand titled the card. Even worse, the bottom of the screen displayed a small box containing the information,

$19.99

purchased with debit card xxxx-9758

You furrowed your brows in confusion, realization slowly softening them, before a mischievous smirk took over your face. You lifted your head to look at Bucky, his face looked down at your lap, refusing to meet your eyes. You tapped the bottom of his chin with the remote, lifting his head to meet your gaze.

“Did you order TV porn, Jamie?” He could hear the teasing tone in your voice, and you only ever used that nickname when joking around, yet Bucky still felt extremely embarrassed. He felt as if he just got walked in on while touching himself. It didn’t help that it was you that saw it, he wanted to crawl in a hole and never look back.

“Ah, you’re blushing,” you squealed as you took his cheeks in your hands, “oh come on, it’s not that embarrassing Bucky.”

“Ugh, can we please pretend you didn’t just see that,” Bucky groaned, closing his eyes to escape your stare. He set down the ice cream next to him and lifted his forearm over his eyes.

You let out a breathy laugh, grabbing his shoulders to stabilize yourself and pushing up to swing your leg under you to the other side of his lap, you straddled him.

“Hey, it’s really not that bad. I mean we’ve had sex before Buck, I think you’d rather have me find this than Sam or someone else.” He let out another groan and lowered his head to lean against your neck.

“Angel, please don’t talk about Sam while you’re on top of me and there’s porn playing on the TV.”

You laughed and ran your hands down his arms, letting one of your hands run up behind his neck and weaving your fingers into his hair. You gripped the back of his head and gently tugged him back up to face you.

“Why,” you sang, deciding to have some fun with him in his flustered state, “is this turning you on?” you whispered the last part.

Before he could respond you leaned down and kissed him. You didn’t bother to start off slow as you usually would, Bucky could taste the hunger from every parting of your lips. His hands gripped your waist, you rocked your weight forwards to rub against him. Bucky’s head clouded, his senses felt overloaded in the best way possible, your movements mixed with the sounds of the moaning coming from the TV were getting him hot. You pulled back before getting too carried away, a smile on your swollen lips.

“So, baby, tell me about it.” You said. It was Bucky’s turn to furrow his brows and he cocked his head to the side in question, mind still foggy from the feeling of you grinding on him.

“What kind of porn do you watch?” you clarified, looking at him like you just asked what his favorite color was.

“Uhm, you want to know about that stuff?” Bucky looked at you with caution, feeling out if he should listen to you or not.

“Well, yeah. I mean I don’t know how it was back then, but most people nowadays watch porn. It’s not super taboo to talk about it,” you explained. You weren’t going to force him to talk about it if he really didn’t want to, but your desire to hear what Bucky was into was strong.

He hesitated for a moment, looking in your eyes and seeing curiosity clouded with lust. He cleared his throat.

“Well, pretty much this stuff,” he gestured with his hand to the TV before putting it back on your waist, “there’s this girl on there, she kinda looks like you, so I buy the videos with her.” He closed his eyes and internally groaned at his words, he didn’t mean to come off so perverted. God, you had already found his porn, the last thing he needed was for you to be thinking he was a creep.

“Y’know that’s actually kinda sweet,” you giggled, “what do you like about those videos?”

Feeling a bit more comfortable knowing you weren’t grossed out, Bucky continued.

“I like the ones where it’s dark and slow. It’s usually quiet and there’s candles and stuff,” he explained shyly. Of all the surprises that came with dating Bucky, you had to admit finding out he was into romantic porn was one of the biggest ones.

Bucky cleared his throat again before questioning you, “Do you watch porn?” He felt almost wrong asking that. He knew that women in this age were more sexually liberated, but the words still felt sticky in his mouth.

“Oh, yeah, of course I do.” Bucky seemed surprised at how casually you answered. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking you to go on.

“Well specifically, I actually really like the videos that are like this,” you said, your head looking down at you straddling him, he followed your gaze, taking in how nice you felt on his lap. You leaned forward, bracing your hands on his chest. Your faces were so close your noses were almost touching. You could feel his rapid heart beat under your palm and the quick rise and fall of his chest. “Do you ever watch the ones that look like this, Bucky?” He looked up at you and nodded with wide eyes, his pupils were blown and his mouth was open like he was searching for the words to respond.

You grasped his jaw in your hand, your thumb on his chin, and looked him in the eyes. You wanted nothing more than to jump his bones, but with the newfound knowledge you had, you took your time with your actions. Within the last five minutes, Bucky had revealed to you not only that he liked soft, romantic porn, but that he also watched a specific actress because she looks like you. The one goal in your head was to fulfill his fantasy the best you could at the moment.

With his head still in your hand, you held your eye contact as you let your knees move out, grinding yourself against his growing erection. He let out an involuntary whimper. That was the last straw. You pulled his face to yours, joining him in a hard, yet loving kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pushing your chest against his, trying to get as close as possible.

Bucky’s dick was painfully hard. He couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of you on top of him. His body felt like it was on fire, he was insatiably horny and couldn’t control the way his hips bucked up to grind with you. He felt like a horny teenager the way his mind was filled only with images of you naked, imagining you like that on top of him like you were now.

You slipped your tongue past his lips, keeping your pace slow as you glided it across and bit at his lower lip. A moan made its way out of your mouth and into his as you felt him buck up against you.

You slid your hands down his chest, fumbling with the hem of his shirt before his arms raised, giving you access to peel it off him, throwing it up on the couch. Bucky kissed down your neck, licking over the shell of your ear, and sucking at the center of your throat. He reached down and slipped his hands under your shirt, sliding up and down your waist before gliding up and lifting your shirt over your head, discarding it with his.

Bucky wasted no time reaching around you and unclipping your bra and dragging it down your shoulders. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them with his large hands before bringing you into another tender kiss. Despite your frantic movements, there was a spark of passion cracking through the air, the both of you desperate to feel each other closer.

You broke the kiss, breathing heavily and resting your forehead against his.

“I wanna make love to you, y/n, please, let me make love to you,” he groaned with a slight whine in his voice. He sounded like he was about to crack.

“Please, Bucky.”

You leaned back on your hands and lifted your hips, giving Bucky the room to pull down your shorts and panties in a few swift tugs. He quickly got up on his knees and pulled down his sweats and boxers, sitting back down and tugging them off his legs. You reached your arms forward, Bucky grabbing a hold of your wrists and pulling you back to straddle him again. You gasped at the feeling of his cock under your bare pussy, your wetness from all the grinding and kissing making you slide over him.

You leaned forwards, capturing his lips between yours and raising yourself up on your knees. Reaching under yourself, you gripped his cock, wet with your arousal, and lined him up with your cunt. Bucky gripped your hips as you sank down on him, using every ounce of self control to stop himself from rutting up into you. You stayed like that for a second, adjusting to the way he filled you. Seeing the remote lying on the floor, you grabbed it and slightly turned up the volume, only enough so that you and Bucky could hear the actress in the video being ravished by her co-star.

Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you began to slowly move up and down over him, riding him just as you had told him you liked to watch. His hands moved up from your waist, squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples in between his fingers. You let out a hiss as he rolled them between his fore finger and his thumb, tugging on and rubbing his thumbs over them. He reached around to grab your ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks and you used him to pleasure yourself.

You were a moaning mess over him and he wasn’t much different. The room was filled with the sounds of the porn playing on the TV mixed with the sounds of your own cries of pleasure. If the neighbors hadn’t been woken up by the TV, they sure were by you two.

Bucky sat back on his knees, his hands slid down to your thighs, moving your legs from under them and wrapping your legs around his back. His arms worked their way back up to wrap around your waist, bringing you ever so close. The new angle pushed him even deeper up into you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, giving you access to all the sweet, desperate sounds falling from his lips.

You were now pushing up with your feet behind him, rolling your hips over his. The new technique made your clit rub over his pelvis, the sensation making you throw your head back and let out a deep moan. He took the opportunity to continue kissing your neck, going lower with every lick and bite. He sucked at your collarbone, leaving a deep purple mark in its place.

Suddenly, he was using his arms to lift you up, not pulling out of you, and laying you down on the blanket-covered floor. You instinctively locked your ankles together, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you. Bucky had his metal arm holding himself up while his flesh one squeezed your breasts, feeling them move with his thrusts. He lowered his head to your chest and licked one of your nipples, grazing his teeth over it before taking it in between his lips and sucking. Your hands flew to the back of his head, singing praises as you wove your fingers into his hair. He continued to alternate between your breasts, leaving love bites around them and sucking on their sensitive peaks.

You could feel your body buzz with anticipation, you were so close. The moans escaping your mouth were lewd and uncontrolled. Bucky wrapped his flesh hand around your waist, lifting your chest flush against his.

You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to kiss him. Nothing felt better than making love with Bucky felt. This was definitely not the first time you two had been intimate, but none of those previous times had ever been like this. You could feel the passion flowing through his body into yours. You looked up at his form over you, how beautiful he looked with the light of the TV screen glistening against the beads of sweat on his forehead. There was absolutely nothing in the world compared to having him, in all his beauty, to yourself like this.

Bucky’s heart was exploding in his chest. What had started out as an embarrassing, nightmare-fueled night had turned into the most intimate experience he ever had in his life. Love was already established in your relationship, but Bucky had never truly made love to you. He looked down in awe at your disheveled state, at the way your hair was sticking to your forehead, at the way the only light in the room gave you an angelic glow. He wanted nothing more than to give himself completely to you, to make you come all over him.

He leaned his forehead against yours, pushing his face forward once every few seconds to kiss you. He was close, and he wanted you to come with him. He leaned into you even more, his cheek pressed against yours, his lips next to your ear.

“I love you so much, y/n, God, you feel so good. I love you, I love you,” Bucky’s voice was deep and strained, his words being emphasized by each push into your wet pussy. You let out another loud moan.

“I love you, James,” you whined as he hit your sweet spot, “I love you so much.”

Bucky’s hand wedged itself in between the two of you, his fingers finding your clit and gently rubbing it. You were completely overwhelmed, this is what it felt like to make love to someone. Your body began to shake and your breathing became erratic. Bucky thrusted harder, working to push you over the edge.

“I want you to come in me, Bucky,” you gasped as his thrusts got faster and lost their rhythm.

Your mouth turned open in a silent scream as you came. Bucky felt your walls clench around him, squeezing the life out of him. He let out a shaky groan as he fell over the edge. His eyes shut tight and his body tensed as he spilled into you.

Wrapping his metal arm around your back and securing your body to his, he rolled on his flesh shoulder onto his back. You went limp against him, laying your head on his chest, listening to his heart beat slow down. He was still buried within you, connected to you. Letting your eyelids fall shut, you savored the feeling of being full of him and his love.

You lifted your head to kiss his jaw.

“I’m glad you called me, Bucky. I love you.”

“I am too, doll. I love you more.”

#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fluffy smut #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes

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