#besides that Allison is SMILING she is HAPPY

[messylustt]

hii since u said you’d do something for stilinski can i request a fic where the alpha twins were just introduced and stiles and reader (best friends) like each other (everyone in the pack knows but them) and reader thinks stiles doesn’t like her so they start hanging out with the twins more and stiles gets jealous and it’s like a angry love confession and maybe smut?

++ thank u so much for taking the time to read & write this!! your writing is actually making me happy as sappy as that sounds💗💗

you’re my friend, not theirs — stiles stilinski + reader ( teen wolf ) : stiles getting jealous over the blooming friendship between you and the twins.

contents : jealous!stiles. kissing. sorry no actual p in v. i need to watch teen wolf again — that shit was gooood, and thank you so much ur actually so sweettt

"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.

You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.

Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.

"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.

You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.

Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"

"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.

"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.

"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.

Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."

"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.

"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.

"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.

"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.

"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.

"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."

Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."

Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"

"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.

Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"

You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.

You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.

"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.

One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"

He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.

You nod. "Nice to meet you."

He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.

Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."

"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.

Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."

Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."

"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.

You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.

Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.

What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.

When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.

A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.

Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.

At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.

But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.

You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"

"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.

"What?"

"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."

"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.

Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."

"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.

Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"

Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"

"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"

"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."

"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"

"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.

"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"

"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"

"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."

"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.

"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.

"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."

Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."

You scoff. "I'm not."

You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."

"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"

And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"

Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.

"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"

"You...like me?" You slowly ask.

Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.

Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."

"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.

He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.

Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.

But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.

"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.

"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.

"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."

You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.

He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.

"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.

Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.

"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."

Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."

Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms

[pixiescoffeeshop]

♡ ⑅˚₊ going soft on me, hargreeves ? PART ONE.

a five hargreeves multi-fic . . 🌻🕰️ — intro.

warnings : minor cursing .ᐟ mentions of blood.

author’s note : MOSTLY BASED THIS OFF RAPUNZEL READER because tangled is my favorite movie and she’s literally me 🙈 (atp this is a self-insert) AHH but also almost like harley quinn-ish? BUT WHATEVERR happy reading cuties <3

five wiped the blood off his face with his navy blue jacket’s sleeve. his siblings all feeling and looking defeated against the sparrows.

“i’ve never had my ass handed to me like that before.” luther spoke faintly, five squinted under the sun in attempts to relax his body off from that spur of the moment fight. “it’s like,” luther spoke again. “here you go.” he motioned his hands at a confused allison. “it’s your ass.”

despite the pain, five couldn’t get his mind off one of the sparrows. the younger one, with the upbeat personality. he was too busy fighting jayme, but he was incredibly intrigued by her. he could watch her fight diego and allison for a bit, with her own powers. — which was light manipulation.

during the fight, five watched her play with her hands and the light that poured in the hargreeves’ mansion as a distraction for her siblings.

viktor sat by five, “someone’s crushing.”

“yeah, me.” diego replied, stretching his back.

allison rolled her eyes, “i don’t think that’s what viktor meant.” she moved her eyes towards five, who stared at all of them like they were crazy. “a real delight that number eight was, wasn’t she?” klaus commented with a light-hearted laugh. “let’s just find a place to stay, yeah?” five rolled his eyes.

— 𐙚₊˚⊹ ⭐️

five needed a break from his siblings. the hotel klaus had found for them wasn’t half bad, but the coffee they served was complete, and in his words : ‘dogshit.’ which was the only downside of it all really. a very big downside.

five walked into griddy’s donuts in attempts to get a decent cup of coffee. he sat down and waited for her order to be taken when, “umbrella asshole?” one of the waiter’s asked him. it was number eight, just in a diner uniform, and holding a pitcher of coffee.

she looked at him confused. “what are you doing here?” five furrowed his brows, “i should be asking you that.” he retorted. she gave out a big smile at that. “okay ‘ya grump, i work here, actually!” she gave a charming wink as she poured him a cup of coffee.

“i take it you’re a black coffee kinda guy?” her voice overlaping the sound of the coffee pouring in. he took the cup and sipped, “am i suppose to be flattered by that observation?” he asked upon putting the cup down. “i’m just very curious is all.” he fought the urge to mirror her infectious smile.

“also, it’s not just number eight, it’s (name). or — (nickname) if you want.” if it was possible, she smiled brighter. how can anyone be so cheery? five thought to himself. also, why isn’t she kicking my ass right now? “anything to eat for you?” she pulled her pretty and sticker-covered notepad out.

he shook his head, “not hungry. far too much things on my mind.” he tapped his foot on the ground. (name) watched him, his anxious stance and his constant worried eyes. “wait here, yeah?” she spoke before running off to the back of the diner. five watched her rush away, only to come out a few moments later with a plate of waffles, eggs, and a few slices of strawberries.

she placed the plate before him, the maple syrup on top with a smiley face. “what’s this?” he asked with a dead-panned expression planted. (name) shrugged as she sat across him, “my treat, silly.” she beamed another smile at him.

five was hesitant, but took the fork from beside the plate and started digging in. his eyes grew wide at the taste, it was delicious. it felt like being home again. “it’s mom’s recipe. nobody really calls her mom besides me, they make fun of me for it.” she giggled lightly.

five looked at her, “it’s really good.” after five finished he put the fork on the plate and put it away. “thank you! also, i’m very sorry for this five.” she cackled a little more, a confused five realized his mistake and stood up, the girl began fighting him.

she attempted to punch him on the side of his face, but he dodged it with his forearm. he returned the attacked with a kick to her face, blood oozing out of her might-be broken nose. she laughed, impressed, wiping the blood off with her fingers. they began fighting more, to which people inside had run off and evacuated.

(name)’s boss continued to yell at her to stop, but (name) knew damn well she wasn’t going to stop. she hit five in the stomach with her knee, five hunching over, and (name) continued with a back-kick on the side of his face. five coughed before pushing her into the table.

“you fight real good, for a seventeen year old.” she spat the blood out of her mouth on the floor. “and you fight really weak for a girl who can manipulate light.” five time-jumped on the table she’d collided her back with, and tried to kick her once again on the face, but to his surprise only met a blinding light.

and once five was distracted trying to find his vision again, (name) pulled his feet out to get him on his back. five landed with a thud! the pain rising from the bottom of his ass to his back. “lunch is served!” her laugh echoed across the diner. five time-jumped again, under the counter.

(name) looked for him, her platforms clanking on the ground. “where are you five? we’re not done here yet, grump.” she sang, another laugh escaping her lips. she spat another puddle of blood out of her mouth. five panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

this girl was crazy. how could she be laughing at a time like this? and how was it that she was killer fighter? “come on five, you going soft on me hargreeves?” she walked the place around a little bit more. is that why diego and allison looked that bad after the fight back at the mansion? because of her?

“there you are handsome.”

[ilovewriting06]

Panicked

A/N- So I just watched the episode where Stiles has his panic attack and I came up with this idea and couldn't get out of my head so welcome to my fucked up thoughts. Also gonna pretend Void!Stiles doesn't exist for this fic.

-----------------------------------------------------

Stiles and I are walking down the school corridor when Stiles suddenly stops after checking his phone. I continue walking a few steps before I realize he isn't beside me anymore. I spin around and notice the panicked expression that's on his face, "Stiles, what's wrong?"

His breathing gets a little faster and I notice that his hands are starting to shake, "She has-she has Allison's dad." I suck in a breath knowing what that means but Stiles says it first, "She's got all three...she's ready for the sacrifice."

I search for what to say and blurt out the first thing that I can think of, "We still have time, right?" There's a few seconds of silence before Stiles gasps and my eyes widen, "Stiles? Stiles, talk to me, what's wrong?

He sucks in breath after breath before choking out, "I think I'm having a panic attack."

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god. What do I do? Think. Think Y/n, think! I look around before seeing the locker room and I grab Stiles' hand dragging him behind me and into the room.

I help him stumble through the room before he slides down the side of the locker. I sink down on my knees trying to figure out what to do, "Uhhh...think about something, anything."

He takes in gulps of air trying to regain his breath as he gasps, "L-like what?"

I pause for a split second, "Happy thing, friends, family."

He gives me a look when I say family and I mentally facepalm and outwardly cringe, "Oh crap, sorry, sorry. Uh, t-try and match my breathing, can you do that?"

He grabs his chest and shakes his head muttering, "I can't, I can't," repeatedly. He starts hyperventilating and I'm about two minutes away from a panic attack myself if I can't calm him down.

I shuffle closer before cupping his face and turning him to look me in the eyes, "Stiles, hey, shh, it's okay. Look at me, Stiles, shh."

He looks at me and I feel my heart twinge at the fear on his face and I realize how close we are, definitely not how I imagined how we would be in this position. I feel helpless as I stare at him and I mentally curse, fuck it, maybe it'll work. I grab his face a little tighter and pull him forward a little as I surge forward and capture his lips in a kiss.

I feel him hold his breath and freeze before he stops shaking and wow, okay, pretty sure I'm not supposed to feel like this when kissing my best friend. I pull away from the kiss slowly to come face to face with a wide eyed, dumbfounded Stiles, "W-why did you do that?"

I almost say what I know is true, I wanted to, I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you but I'm terrified to say anything because the thought of losing you tears my heart apart, but I chicken out and make yet another excuse, "I, uh, I read somewhere that when you hold your breath it stops a panic attack. When I kissed you, you held your breath."

I see the disappointment filter across his face and I feel hope fill in my chest before it fizzles out when he nods, "Wow, I uh, yeah. That was really smart."

I smile and nod before shifting to sit beside him, "Yeah, I-I guess so. You feel a little better?"

He nods, "I...yeah Y/N/N, I feel better, thanks."

I kiss his cheek before standing, "You're welcome, Sti."

----------------------------------------------------------

It's been a few weeks since the panic attack and the sacrifices and Stiles has been avoiding me. Like hardcore swerving to the complete opposite side of the hall when he sees me and ducking into the boy's bathroom or the boy's locker room. It hurts, a lot.

I slump into my seat in English class after yet another failed attempt at talking to Stiles. When I see Scott look at me with a sympathetic smile it registers that if anyone know what's wrong with Stiles, it's Scott.

At the end of class I scramble to run and catch Scott before he disappears, "Scott!" I see him stop for a split second before he starts weaving through students and I can't help it, I'm desperate, "Scott, please!"

This time when he stops he turns around and looks at me which has me running to him before coming to a stop in front of him, "Scott-," He cuts me off grabbing the strap of his backpack that's over his shoulder before speaking, "Look, Y/N, if this is about Stiles you have to talk to him, not me."

I almost cry in frustration when I yell, "I've tried! Dammit Scott, I've tried! He won't talk to me, he won't even look at me."

I can see Scott falter a little bit at the sight of the tears that start to slide down my cheeks so I beg one last time, "Scott, I'm begging you, help me. I can't lose him Scott, please."

He bites on his lip and looks around before sighing, "Locker room after lacrosse practice." I perk up and he continues, "I'll make sure he's there."

I smile and nod, "Thank you, Scott, thank you."

----------------------------------------------------

As I slip into the locker room after lacrosse practice is over I can hear Stiles yelling at who I assume is Scott, "Dude, that's not cool! Why won't you watch Star Wars? It says things about you dude, and it isn't good things."

I come around the corner and falter slightly at the sight before me, Stiles is wearing a pair of black basketball shorts...and that's it. Literally, I'm 99% sure he's not wearing boxers either because they're hanging low on his hips and there isn't a single sign of an elastic band. His hair is still damp and there are a few droplets of water on the expanse of his back and when he turns around at the sound of me catching myself on a locker I can't help but wheeze a little because, holy shit, who knew Stiles Stilinski was ripped?"

His smile drops before he looks between me and Scott. I look at Scott and he nods slightly before turning to Stiles, "Look, dude, just talk to her. I'm gonna head home."

When the door closes behind Scott I look at Stiles as I take a few steps towards him and whisper, "What did I do wrong?"

He licks his lips and stutters, "Uhh-nothing, nothing, why would you think you did something wrong?"

I try to stop the tears from welling up in my eyes as I take a shuddering breath, "Maybe the fact that it's been close to a month since we've talked. You constantly avoid me by ducking into the bathroom or the locker room or you use Scott as a buffer, you don't answer your phone, or the door when I come to your house. I just-I just want to know how to fix this. I just want to know what I did wrong."

Stiles takes a breath before shifting slightly, "Y/N, there's nothing to fix, we're fine."

I feel all the frustration, hurt, and anger pour out of me at his obvious lie, "DAMMIT STILES! Stop lying to me! Is this because I kissed you? Is that why you've been avoiding me?"

Stiles opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water and I know that's what it is but there's something else, something I can't decipher. I gulp before asking, "Is it because you figured it out? Did you figure out that I've been in love with you for years and you couldn't figure out how to let me down easy?"

Stiles' eyes widen before he speaks, "You're in love with me? Y/N, I'm in love with you! I thought the kiss meant nothing to you and I couldn't pretend anymore. I thought you-...you're really in love with me?"

I nod and step closer until our chests are brushing together, "Yes, I've been in love with you since my 15th birthday." He grips my waist before smiling, "I've been in love with you since I was 14, I've got you beat."

I grab his bare shoulders and whisper, "Not everything's a competition. Now, are you gonna kiss me or not?" His left hand stays on my hip but his right hand cups the back of my head and pulls me into a kiss. We kiss until our lungs our screaming for oxygen and when we pull apart I slide my hands down his chest and brush across his abs, "Stiles."

His breath catches as I trace his abs as he chokes out, "Uh huh, yeah, what's up?" I brush a finger down the dark strip of hair that disappears into his shorts before I slip my index finger under the band and whisper, "I want you."

The loud clang of Stiles' head hitting the lockers rings throughout the otherwise quiet room as he groans, "Fuck, Y/N, I-I've never-, not here."

I know what he's trying to say because I feel the same way, but that wasn't my plan, "I know, I'm a virgin too and I'm not losing my virginity in the boy's locker room, but I wasn't talking about sex." I whisper the last little bit in his ear at the same time that I cup his half hard cock.

He tangles a hand in my hair pulling my head back to look in my eyes, "Are you sure? You don't have to." I smile and slide my hands up to rest on his sides, "I want to, I really, really want to. Unless you don-."

"NO!" My eyes widen and he clears his throat, "I, I mean, um no, yeah I want to, too."

I smirk and lean forward to capture his lips in a sloppy, eager kiss. He licks my bottom lip asking for entrance but I release his lips and kiss across his jaw. I start making my way down his neck looking for that spot that drives him crazy. When I find his sweet spot he lets out the prettiest moan I've ever heard, which is like, none, but still think it would sound prettier than anyone else's moan, especially when its the boy you love moaning your name.

I give extra attention to his sweet spot leaving behind a small mark as I continue my descent of his body. I kiss across his collarbone and down his chest to his abs making sure to leave hickies scattered across his skin. When I get to the waistline of his shorts I pull back and look up to see him looking down at me with pupils blown to hell and wet hair laying flat on his head. His breathing is uneven as I ask, "Are you sure? No turning back after this."

He grabs my chin in between his thumb and index finger as his gravely, panty dropping voice fills the silence, "If you stop, I swear to god you'll regret it."

My eyes widen as I rub my legs together and whine. He smirks and rubs his thumb across my cheekbone, "You like that? Does it turn you on thinking about what could happen if you didn't listen?"

I nod my head as I lean into his touch, "Yes."

He groans and runs his hand through my hair, "You can't get any more perfect could you?" I turn my head slightly just enough nip at the palm of his hand. When he pulls his hand away I surge forward and kiss the dark trail of hair causing Stiles to groan again, "Alright, okay, we'll talk about that later."

I curl my fingers around his shorts before pulling them down and yup, no underwear and oh lord, there is no way I can fit all of that in my mouth. I freeze with my hands still holding his shorts when they're right above his knees, "Oh."

I can feel Stiles' eyes staring at me but I'm too busy pushing his shorts to pool around his ankles to look at him. I shuffle closer before realizing that I have no idea what to do. I blush as I look up at Stiles and he lets out a shaky breath, "You look so fucking innocent." He pauses before he raises an eyebrow at my flushed face before realization dawns on his face, "Oh, you are aren't you? Do you need me to tell you what to do?"

I feel my face burn in embarrassment but Stiles rubs his thumb against my jaw, "Hey, it's okay Sweetheart. I think you just found a new kink of mine, actually."

I furrow my eyebrows and tilt my head and he chuckles, "You are so goddamn adorable, and innocent. Corruption kink, Sweetheart."

I smile and blush before looking back at his dick that is red and angry at the lack of attention. I watch as a bead of precum drips onto the floor before looking back at Stiles with wide desperate eyes.

He nods, "Okay, okay, spit on your hand." I wrinkle my nose and he snorts, "You can lick it instead but it's not going to be easy or comfortable for either of us if your hand is dry."

I look at my hands but before I decide what to do he grabs one of my hands and pulls it up as far as it will go before he ducks down the rest of the way and licks a long stripe from the bottom of my palm to my fingertips. He releases my hand and I let it sit there for a second as I stare at him with wide eyes before I visibly swallow.

His eyes widen and he looks like he would back away if he could, "Oh my god, I'm sorry! I should have asked first, I am so sor-," I shake my head and cut him off, "Hot, dunno why, but it was...hot."

Stiles blushes before I whisper, "What now? Hand's wet, so now what?

Stiles gently grabs my wrist and guides it down, "Okay, now grip the base, but not too hard." I nod before wrapping my hand around him gently, marveling about how my fingers don't even touch. I glance up at Stiles as his hand wraps around mine but I blush and look back down at our hands when he winks at me.

I hear his light chuckle before his starts moving his hand and in turn moving mine with his, "Just like this okay? You don't have to do anything special, this feels great." I can hear him holding back a moan as he softly asks, "Do you think you've got it figured out?"

I nod and watch as he pulls his hand away not missing the way he subtly drags his thumb across the slit but the little jolt he tries to suppress is what catches my attention the most. I shift on my knees slightly before deciding to move my hand faster which receives a choked off curse that turns into a brief moan, "Fu-nghh."

I watch as his eyes flutter, struggling to stay open and decide now is the perfect time to try that little trick, but with a bit of a twist and the reaction I get has me moaning. I lick my lips as I watch my hand glide up and down his shaft before darting forward and licking the tip a little surprised at the sweet yet tangy tase of the precum.

I kept my eyes on Stiles' face as I licked his tip and his response is instantaneous. His eyelids close and stay closed, his whole body arches, and his face scrunches as his mouth drops open but he doesn't make a noise, at least not until I've engulfed the head of his cock in my mouth and suck.

"HOLY SHIT!" I hum around him and he starts rambling curses as I run my tongue over his tip, "Holy shiii-oh god, oh god! Don't stop!"

I pull off of his cock, mouth and hand, and the whine he lets out is pitiful, yet adorable, "Whyyy?" I rub the back of my hand over my lips before speaking, "Touch me, please."

I sound just as whiny and desperate as he does and the look he gives me is a look that can only be described as hungry, "Okay, Sweetheart." He runs his hand through my hair before cupping the back of my head, "How's that, Baby?"

I smile before turning back to his dick trying to remember everything Lydia has ever told me about how to get a guy to cum within minutes and I can practically hear her now, 'Now, listen I swear it'll come in handy someday. Lick it, base to tip, they love it. The first time you suck someone off you probably won't be able to take all of them in so you have to substitute with your hand for what won't fit. Okay, now here is the important part when you have to do that, corkscrew their dick. Don't violently twist or anything but as you move your hand, rotate it, has them cumming in seconds...and don't forget to suck!'

I glance at him one last time to see him slightly confused until I do what Lydia told me to do all those months ago, base to tip with a quick flick of the tongue over his slit. She was right they love it. "Ohh, this is so much better than jerking off, like infinitely bet-," He cuts himself off with a desperate gasp for air, more like a wheeze, when I take in as much of his dick as I can. He's about 8 inches long and I can only fit a little less than 3 inches into my mouth leaving 5 inches to be jerked off.

I cup my tongue on the underside, along a prominent vein as I hollow my cheeks around him before pulling back and taking it all back in, blinking back tears from him touching the back of my throat. The whimpers and moans he lets out cause a tingle to shoot down my spine and my panties to become drenched in slick, it doesn't help that his hand tightens in my hair when I run my tongue along the vein.

I moan around him at the precum that coats my tongue before whining when Stiles tugs on my hair, "F-f-fuckkk! 'M close. God!"

I move my hand faster as well as my mouth and I can feel Stiles tense and twitch under my left hand that's holding his thigh. I increase the suction on his tip as I start flicking my wrist and grip him a little tighter and in mere seconds he's trying to pull me off, "C-close, gonna, mmm, g-gonna, SHIT!"

I know he's trying to pull me off because he doesn't know if I want him to cum in my mouth but a part of me craves it, craves the taste and the feeling of it sliding down my throat. It takes approximately ten seconds until my craving is fulfilled and when Stiles cums, he lets out a deep throaty groan of my name and it has me whining as I try and get every last drop.

When he's sucked dry he whimpers from overstimulation and tries to pull me off, and I let him. I look up at him with a full mouth and a small trickle leaking down my chin from the corner of my mouth. I make eye contact with him and swallow what's in my mouth before licking my lips, "Did I do okay?"

He stares at me dumbfounded before nodding, "Y-yeah, honestly wondering if that really truly was your first blowjob slash handjob."

I blush and nod, "Uh, yeah you're the only guy I've seen naked, I hadn't ever seen a dick either." He blinks before grabbing my biceps and hauling me off my knees and onto my feet. When I'm steady he grabs my hip slipping his thumbs under my sweatshirt and rubbing small circles, "You have blown every expectation I had for what I expected from a blowjob so far away it's floating around somewhere in another galaxy. And Scott's a fucking liar."

I raise an eyebrow at his last statement and he pulls me closer, "He told me blowjobs and handjobs weren't all they were cracked up to be, but fuck, Allison must not be good at it. Best. Orgasm. Ever."

I blush and rest my forehead in the crook of his neck before pulling back and looking at him, "What does this mean? For us."

He takes his hand off my hips and bends down to pull his shorts up before he stands up straight, "Well, I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner, maybe from that little diner on 2nd street?"

I smile and lean forward before pecking his lips in a chaste kiss, "It's a date." He smiles as I spin around and grab my bag from the floor where I had discarded it by the door. I sling it over my shoulder and I'm halfway out the door when he yells after me, "I'll pick you up at 7!"

I smile as I walk down the hall with a smile on my lips, looks like I panicked for no reason.

[inkspiredwriting]

Inescapable Fate

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

A/N: There is nothing more important to a writer than the opinions of the people who read his work. I would therefore be very happy if you would leave a comment :)

Warnings: Death, Angst

The rain fell in relentless sheets, pounding against the windows of the Umbrella Academy. Inside, Number Five paced the floor, his mind racing. He had faced impossible odds before, bent time and space to his will, but nothing had prepared him for this. Y/N, his wife, lay in the hospital, her condition worsening by the hour. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t save her. Yet, he refused to accept that fate.

Five’s siblings watched him with a mix of concern and helplessness. They knew better than to try and talk him out of his desperate mission. He had made up his mind, and when Five set his mind to something, there was no stopping him.

“I have to go back,” Five muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. “I have to find the moment when everything went wrong and fix it.”

“Five,” Viktor said gently, stepping forward. “You’ve already tried so many times. Maybe... maybe some things can’t be changed.”

Five whirled on him, his eyes blazing. “I refuse to believe that! I won’t just stand by and watch her die.”

Diego stepped in, his expression grim. “We get it, Five. But this is tearing you apart. How many more times are you going to put yourself through this?”

“As many times as it takes,” Five snapped, turning back to his calculations. He scribbled furiously, mapping out yet another plan to travel back in time.

With a final check of his equations, Five opened a time portal and stepped through, determined to change the course of events that had led to Y/N’s illness.

He arrived in the past, days before Y/N’s diagnosis. The world around him felt eerily familiar, yet suffocatingly different. He knew every moment counted, and he wasted no time in trying to alter the sequence of events.

Five’s first attempt was simple: he tried to persuade Y/N to avoid the places he believed had exposed her to the illness. But fate was cruel. Y/N, always the caring and dedicated person, had commitments she couldn’t break. She smiled at his uncharacteristic insistence, teasing him about his sudden overprotectiveness.

Next, Five tried a more drastic approach. He manipulated circumstances to keep her isolated, away from any potential danger. He convinced her to take a spontaneous vacation, whisking her away to a remote cabin. For a brief moment, it seemed like he had succeeded. They laughed and talked, the bond between them growing stronger.

But the illness found her even there, in the most unlikely of ways. Y/N’s symptoms began to show, and despite Five’s frantic efforts, she fell ill again.

Desperation gnawed at Five’s resolve. He returned to the present, only to find Y/N in the hospital, just as before. Each failure weighed heavily on him, but he couldn’t give up. He wouldn’t.

Five repeated the cycle over and over, each attempt more frantic than the last. He sought out experts, delved into obscure medical research, even resorted to manipulating time more recklessly than ever before. But every time, the result was the same. Y/N’s fate seemed written in stone, no matter how hard he fought against it.

One night, after yet another failed attempt, Five found himself back at the Academy, exhausted and broken. He slumped into a chair, staring blankly at the wall. The room was silent except for the ticking of a clock, a cruel reminder of the time slipping away.

Allison approached him cautiously. “Five, you need to rest. You’re going to kill yourself at this rate.”

Five’s voice was a hollow whisper. “I can’t lose her, Allison. I can’t.”

Allison knelt beside him, taking his hand. “You haven’t lost her yet. She’s still here, right now. You should be with her.”

The words pierced through Five’s haze of desperation. He realized, with a painful clarity, that he had been so focused on changing the past that he was missing the present. Y/N needed him now, more than ever.

With a heavy heart, Five stood and made his way to the hospital. He found Y/N lying in her bed, her breathing shallow but steady. She smiled weakly when she saw him, her eyes filled with love and understanding.

“Hey, you,” she said softly. “You’ve been gone a lot. Saving the world again?”

Five’s throat tightened. He sat beside her, taking her hand in his. “Something like that.”

Y/N squeezed his hand. “You don’t have to save me, Five. Just be here with me. That’s all I need.”

Tears welled up in Five’s eyes. He had been so blind, so consumed by his need to change the past, that he had forgotten what mattered most. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m here, Y/N. I’m here.”

In the days that followed, Five stayed by Y/N’s side. They talked, reminisced, and cherished every moment together. Five knew he couldn’t change the past, couldn’t alter her fate, but he could make sure she knew how deeply he loved her.

As Y/N’s condition worsened, Five held her close, his heart breaking with every labored breath she took. And when the time came, and she slipped away peacefully in his arms, he was there, whispering words of love and comfort.

In the end, Five couldn’t save Y/N. But he had given her the one thing that mattered most: his unwavering presence and love. And though the pain of her loss would never fully fade, he found solace in knowing that he had been with her, every step of the way, until the very end.

Fate might be inescapable, but love, Five realized, was the one constant that transcended time and space. And that love would stay with him, always.

[wardenparker]

Vampire Waltz - ch 17

Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 9.1k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* Honestly, not many warnings here. Mostly fluff and some sexy flirting and blood drinking/talk of biting. Summary: On the night of the Samhain ball, your long-anticipated return home is marked with tears, hugs, and a very important announcement. Notes: Next week's epilogue will be the official end of this story, my darlings, and I am so grateful for every single one of you who has come along for the ride!

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Ch 16

"Miss Allison, I promise you that everything is under control." Mrs. Taylor has watched Allison work her very hardest to finish the plans on the Samhain ball, and she has done wonderfully. Far more wonderfully than Allison herself would ever take credit for. Now, though, it is up to Mrs. Taylor and the rest of the staff to get the buffet tables and innumerable chairs set. "Please go and get dressed. We will take care of everything from here. It is going to be a wonderful night."

“Are you sure?” She bites her lip and wracks her brain, running through the mental checklist that has been swirling through her mind and double then tripled several times.

"This is not, as you like to say, my first rodeo." The elder vampire chuckles at the expression and motions toward the stairs. "There is plenty of time. Take a shower or even a bath. Relax yourself. Get dressed. It is time to enjoy your night."

“Do you think we ordered enough blood and donors?” She asks worriedly. Vampires from all over are descending on the estate and some do not drink from blood bags, so concessions had to be made.

“Mr. Finchley counted through the bags this morning and Renee is meeting each of the donors as they arrive.” Mostly students from the neighboring college, the set of a dozen voluntary donors for the night have signed contracts for financial compensation that they are permitted to back out of at any time if they should decide — and they will also be provided with enormous care packages made by the Taylors regardless of how long they stay or how many guests partake of their blood. Mrs. Taylor has baked and cooked enough in advance for each of them to essentially have a week’s worth of free food and Mr. Taylor went through enormous trouble to find them all manner of health and self-care items as well as other goodies. “Mr. Taylor had offered to speak to everyone but Renee thought the young ladies who signed up might be less intimidated if she was the one to greet them.”

“That would be best. I can also meet with them. Explain how it is for a human.” She offers with a slight blush. Last night she and Eddie had indulged in that particular activity after the conversation they had and she loved it.

Mrs. Taylor smiles at Allison’s blush, not calling attention to it but certainly noting the happiness in the young woman. Things appear to be going quite well. “I’m sure they would be comforted to hear from you.”

“Then I will meet with them when they are ready.” Allison decides with a smile. “Please have someone inform me when that is?”

“They have been asked to arrive by nine o’clock tonight.” The mantle clock beside them reads just after seven, meaning there truly is plenty of time. “The Master is taking it upon himself to greet any trick or treaters we might have tonight, so do not feel you need to rush in readying yourself.”

“He loves children, doesn’t he?” Allison asks, tilting her head and smiling at the thought of the elder vampire greeting kids and cooing over their costumes.

“He does.” Mrs. Taylor nods. The same expression of soft admiration paints both their features and the housekeeper clasps her hands a moment later. “Would you like a tea tray for your room? Or any help getting ready?”

“Some tea would be lovely.” She admits before she thinks about something else. “Is— has Dolly’s room been prepared for her return?” She asks softly, as if asking about it might jinx things.

An enigmatic smile from Mrs. Taylor is not the reassurance she is looking for, but the vampiric housekeeper has plenty of her own secrets as well. “All is prepared for. Truly, there is nothing for you to worry about. You should try to enjoy yourself tonight, miss.”

“Were you nervous when you were human?” Allison asks in wonder. “Or have you always been so self-assured?”

“Oh goodness no.” That actually illicits a small laugh from her and Mrs. Taylor shakes her head. “It took a good century or so to find my calm, dear girl. Before that I was as nervous as a spring bride in the morning. I simply learned to…what is your phrase? Fake it ‘til I make it. Eventually it just sank in.”

“Good to know.” She’s more assured than some, but this is her first big event and she feels like she needs to prove herself worthy to Eddie’s sire.

“Everything will be just as you wished it to be.” Mrs. Taylor promises. “Now go on. I will bring your tea up myself.”

“Thank you.” Allison flashes her a grateful smile before turning around and doing as she says.

The artfully made Alice in Wonderland and Mad Hatter costumes that Eddie found for them are hanging in his closet and Eddie himself is sitting on the bed with a copy of the party itinerary in his lap when she walks in. "Hey baby." Almost instantly, he's at her side with his arms around her. "Did Mrs. Taylor banish you from the ballroom to get ready?"

“She did.” Allison huffs out a laugh and shakes her head. “I was told that she has it completely under control. But I want this to be perfect.”

“It will be.” He squeezes her tight and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “If I suggest we take a shower will that actually relax you a little? Everything is going to be great, baby.”

“It depends.” Allison admits with a grin. “Will you…feed off me again?” She asks quietly, amazed at how much of a rush of endorphins it can be.

Eddie’s chuckle is deep, tinged with equal parts amusement and desire. “I will. Because I can smell how badly you want me to.”

Biting her lip, she grins and bats her eyelashes at him. “You don’t seem to mind it.” She reminds him, finding it intoxicating when it fires him up. He loses control for a split second when he starts to drink.

With his hands on her hips, Eddie whirls Allison around and starts walking her toward the shower with urgency. “Alright. Let’s go. Very important shower to take.”

Her laugh is one of delight and she’s ecstatic that one day, she won’t have to secretly worry about growing old and leaving Eddie. She’ll be right there with him. “Baby?” He hums and she giggles. “Can we still do this once I’m changed?”

“Shower together?” He huffs at her playfully because he knows that isn’t what she meant. “I mean we can, but vampires don’t sweat so we don’t need to wash as much.”

She snorts and rolls her eyes before she turns around to start undressing. “You know what I meant.”

“We can,” he stresses the second word and tugs off his t-shirt. “But the thing that’s weird about it is that if you drink my blood and I’m the one who turned you…it doesn’t quite taste right. It’s like an evolutionary red flag, or something like that. To prevent vampires from consuming their kin. So if you want to keep doing this, and you want it to taste good and give adrenaline and all that? I would recommend that we ask someone else to change you.”

“Would you mind?” She asks quietly. Changing a person into a vampire is also quite intimate and she doesn’t want to upset him.

“I would prefer you chose someone you know well, if it isn’t going to be me.” He can understand her choice is entirely her own, but to make another vampire is a deeply intimate and meaningful relationship. It’s why so many refer to those they have sired as their children.

“I was thinking about asking your sire.” Allison admits. “Since he approves of me.”

“Hmmm.” Eddie kisses her cheek this time, pretending to consider something he already knows is a good idea. “Are you sure you want Max for a big brother?” He teases.

She snorts and shrugs. “He will be either way.” She admits, knowing that Eddie will always be around Max. Plus she kind of likes the other vampire for his treatment of you.

“I guess that’s true.” Eddie grins, though, and helps Allison out of her last few items of clothes after turning on the hot water for them. “To be honest, I thought you might pick Mrs. Taylor, but I have no doubt if we ask him about it later, he will say yes.”

“I hope to have more of a sisterly relationship with Mrs. Taylor.” Allison admits. “Although if your sire thinks it’s a good idea, I would be fine with that.”

“I doubt dear old dad will object to siring you. But be prepared for him to make a very big deal about it.” Eddie rolls his eyes fondly. “Dramatic son of a bitch.”

“You’re dramatic in your own way.” She teases, sliding her hands up his cool chest and grinning at him.

“I’ve been well trained, I guess.” He huffs, but pulls her into the shower with him. “I’m glad you seem to like it.”

“Oh I do.” She promises, standing on her tip toes to kiss him. “I absolutely do.”

******

"This place looks incredible!" Tracy squeals, throwing her arms around Allison almost the second she's inside the house. "Holy shit, holy shit everything is amazing. And what is that smell? Are you burning incense in the house or something?"

“The food.” There’s probably some incense burning as well, but all the human food is fragrant. “You look incredible!”

"Oh, this old thing?" Tracy giggles as she twirls around in her Clueless costume and poses like a model. She and Candance and one of the other women from the coven decided to come as Cher, Tai, and Dionne tonight. "As if, right?"

“No, you look amazing, I don’t think there will be a pair of eyes that don’t stop on you and admire.” Allison gushes, grinning at the other woman. “And you’ll be dancing all night.”

"I can't believe how good the house looks and how good you look!" She jumps forward to squeeze Allison tightly again. "Everything is perfect."

“Yes it is.” Since the shower and getting dressed, she’s calmed down. It’s too late to change anything and what will be, will be. She’s left it in Mrs. Taylor’s capable hands.

Tracy bites her lip as Candace comes up beside her. “Any sign of…?”

Allison sighs, chewing on her lip worriedly and glancing around. “Not yet. But knowing Max, he will make it as dramatic as possible and arrive at midnight like some reverse pumpkin fable.” She snorts, hiding her own nerves behind the facade of humor.

“Oh god, you’re right,” Candace snorts. She reaches to hug Allison tightly and shakes her head in some sort of fond exasperation. “And he’ll have figured out how to cue Phantom of the Opera entrance music or something.”

“That would actually have been a wonderful idea!” Allison gasps. “Next year. Next year’s theme is decided.”

“All of Broadway, or specifically Phantom?” Tracy giggles at the idea, already on board.

“Phantom.” Allison knows you would love the idea. “We could honestly have a Broadway themed ball every year.”

“Different time periods, different Broadway shows, different literary influences…” Candace sighs dreamily. “My vote is for a Jane Austen ball.”

“Ohhhh that would be wonderful.” Allison sighs as well, enchanted by the idea. “It would be a very proper ball.”

“What would be?” Eddie, who had been at the front door making sure the signs for parking and entry were clear enough and in the right places, now comes up behind his girlfriend and slips one arm around her waist.

“Hi.” She beams at Eddie and sighs at the idea of him in a Regency era suit. “A Jane Austen ball.”

“Ooo, you would love that.” He coos softly and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Mr. Finchley is out front to help with parking and direct people who haven’t been here before. The first cars were pulling in when I came inside. I thought you ladies would like to know.”

“Oh, it’s time.” Allison panics for a split second but Eddie’s hand on her waist steadies her. “Then I guess you and I should stand in and greet the guests.”

“And we will man the donation table.” Tracy grabs Candace’s hand. One of the main points of the night is still to collect for charity, and every party goer is supposed to be bringing in a canned or boxed food item for the local food bank. Between the food drive and proceeds from ticket sales going to nearest women’s shelter, the night should end up being a rousing success on all fronts as long as everyone has a good time.

“Thank you.” Allison throws them grateful smiles, happy that she has such a good coven to help her.

“Come on, love,” Eddie encourages her. There is a broad, proud smile on his face and he kisses her other cheek this time. “We have guests to greet.”

“Yes we do.” In your absence, Allison wants to be the best hostess so the reputation of the party grows. This could be a success for years to come.

The first half hour or so of arrivals is a trickle. Coven members, the teachers and students from the dance studio that you and Max had gone to. Some of the museum docents from the local preservation society have arrived as a group in full costume. A few folks from the charities benefiting from tonight’s collections also arrive in their festive Halloween costumes, and a smattering of students from the nearby college as well. It’s over an hour into the night when a sleek, black sports car with tinted windows that Allison doesn’t recognize, pulls up under the porte-cochere and Mr. Taylor looks particularly amused — or even smug? — when he opens the door.

“Allison!” Though you haven’t aged a day to the naked eye, the way you hold yourself is different now. Over a hundred years changes a person, and the trauma that had once governed all of your actions has melted away to be left far in the past. But a straighter spine and surer shoulders are not what matters now. Not as you haul yourself out of the car in the beautifully elaborate gown that you wore to the first Samhain ball you ever attended — the one thrown by your abuela in 1885 when you decided to stay in the past. You and Max had thought it was a symbolic choice to wear the same clothes tonight.

Eddie’s eyes widen when Max pops out of the driver’s side and zips around to immediately take your hand, smirking slightly at the surprise and delight of the people gathered who recognize them. “I told you we haven’t missed the dancing.” He muses to you as he guides you towards the receiving party. “Edward, you look magnificent and that is saying something considering the gorgeous creature next to you.”

“What in the hell?” Eddie’s eyes widen at the deeply obvious change in Max’s demeanor and he can’t help a deep, amused laugh at how giddily you and Allison are greeting each other as he steps forward to either shake Max’s hand or give the bastard a hug. He can’t really figure out which. “Well, goddamn. You—you really did stay, didn’t you?”

Max takes the other vampire’s hand in a firm shake and drags him forward for a hug. “We couldn’t leave.” He admits shamelessly. “That time, the people, it was exactly what we both needed.” He pulls back and grins at Eddie. “But it’s damn good to see you. We missed you both.”

“We missed you, too.” As nervous as they were, and as worried as they were, it’s extremely obvious that whatever had happened, it was a positive decision. “But where the hell did you come from? And how did you leave in the first place? And when were you? We have so many questions.”

“We’ll explain it all.” Max promises. “Dolly has a lot of information to share with the coven. Including Mrs. Astor’s grimoire.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” You cling to Allison happily, drowning in your long-missed friend’s affection, before pulling back to look at her. “You look so happy, honey. That’s so good, and I’m so, so glad to see it.”

Max smirks slightly, sending Eddie a knowing look. “Eddie, you finally made your move.” He hums in approval. “Good, relationship bliss looks good on you both.”

“Come inside,” Eddie insists, practically dragging Max with him and Allison wraps her arm around yours to do the same. “We want to hear everything.”

“Of course you do.” Max is teasing, but if the situations were reversed, he would be hounding Eddie for the details. “First, how long have we been gone? Dates have kind of blurred.”

“About three weeks.” Allison tells him, still clinging to your hand. She’s still reassuring herself that you’re both real. “How long has it been for you guys, though?”

He glances at you and grins before he looks back at Allison and Eddie. “You tell them.” You urge with an indulgent smile since Max has been so excited about this.

“Only a few years.” Max insists. “One hundred and one.”

“So…you went to 1922?” Allison asks, confused because that doesn’t seem to track with what they found in their research.

“Not quite,” you admit, knowing the whole situation probably seems very complicated. “We went to 1885, and came back from 1986. A few weeks before Max was set to be born. You really don’t want to hop around in your own lifetime if you can manage it.”

“So you can move around through time?” Eddie asks, mouth hanging open as every one of his theories is being explained.

“It was by accident the first time.” The admission is a little sheepish, but you look very proud just a second later. “I’m actually quite good at it now.”

“What happened?” Allison demands. “We were thinking something happened to you when your grandfather told us.”

“Unfortunately for him, my ex decided to surprise us on our date.” It’s been a century and the hurt is gone. Not even a sting remains. Derek is no more than a blip in your past and there are now very long stretches of entire decades where you even forget he ever existed. “I tried to keep him away from us with a protection spell but my spellbinding made it go haywire, and instead of protecting Max and myself from Derek, I protected all three of us from that moment in time. It sent us back to the exact same moment, but in 1885.”

“I knew you had to be spellbound!” Allison gasps. “How did you— did you see your mother?” She asks.

"My mother has been my closest friend for a hundred years." It was difficult, moving in and out of each other's lives at times, but with both of you being functionally immortal for that time you both understood that sometimes there was no choice but to be apart. "She even called me the day she met my dad." It was a phone call you had been waiting for, unfortunately. Knowing what would ensue in the coming years, you and Max had taken it as a cue to get out of the country for the remainder of your time in your own past.

“I’m so glad you got more time with her.” Allison glances at Eddie nervously, aware that your grandfather’s announcement tonight might devastate you.

"Then why do you look as though you had lost my favourite sweater?" You reach for her with both hands and squeeze her shoulders gently. "What's wrong, Ali? The place looks amazing, you look happy, and we're finally home again. It should be a night to celebrate."

“It is.” She promises, shaking off the feeling and sending you a smile. “Your grandfather will be happy to see you.” She promises.

"He should be expecting us." Out of anyone in literally all of time, your grandfather has always been the one person most informed about when and where you will be, your plans, and anything else you could conceivably need. He's been a wonderful father figure to Max and a doting grandfather to you, as well as an invaluable resource.

“He is.” Allison assures you. “In fact, he was the one to tell us you would be back tonight.” She admits with a rueful grin. “Guess we shouldn’t have doubted him.”

"He's the last person we spoke to before we left 1986," you admit, but you also shrug. After hanging up with your grandfather, you'd definitely spent the next few hours enjoying a nice dinner and fucking all over your empty house. Max's absurd '80s power suits had ended up to be just a little bit of a turn on for you. You're just not quite sure how that happened.

Max smirks, reaching up and caressing the back of your neck as you are obviously thinking about the same thing he is. “That was a lucky year.” He teases softly.

"Very lucky." Your own smirk meets his and for one happy moment you forget anyone else exists, just sharing an amused glance with your soulmate. It may be more than a hundred years later, but you still fall a little more in love with him every day.

He arches a brow and licks his lips. “No one would miss us for a few minutes, would they?” He asks, even though he knows he can’t sneak you away for a quickie.

Allison snorts in amusement, shaking her head at Max seemingly not changing at all in his core, despite the changes in his manners on the surface. "It's your house, guys," she reminds you both.

“No.” Max shakes his head and smiles at your friend. “My wife has waited way too long to see you again to sneak her off.” He admits with a chuckle. “And I’ve been told if I mess up her hair before our first dance, there’s hell to pay.”

"It'll be Gladys Vanderbilt's debutante ball all over again," you tease. The fond roll of your eyes is nothing but love after so many years together. "Although..." Looking up at him, you flash him a sly smile. Hearing him call you his wife still hasn't gotten old. "It's been what...fifty years now, since the last time we had a wedding? We might be due for another one."

“You’re married.” Eddie is the one who practically squeals it. He has known Max to be staunchly against being tied down, but that was before you. “How many times have you gotten married?”

"Um..." The look you and Max share is vague confusion, as between the two of you, you try to count out the different weddings you have celebrated over the decades. "1885...1923...1946...1967...and the last one was 1980. So five times. And I guess that's not quite fifty years ago. More than forty, though."

“Oh my god.” Allison whispers, glancing between you and Max in amazement. “Five weddings? Max you are just….” She shakes her head and throws her arms around him while looking over her shoulder at Eddie. “You have a standard now.”

“Sorry Eddie,” you tease, enjoying the easy lightness of being with your friends again. The urge to just continuously hug them and not let go is very real. “Although it is fun. And parties these days are so much more casual than they once were. That makes it a bit easier. Or at least less forbidding to plan.”

“I want to experience that.” Eddie admits, reaching out taking Allison’s hand. “We have decided that Allison will become immortal soon.” He announces after she gives him a soft smile of encouragement.

“Oh, honey!” Your eyes flit between both of them before you bundle them both up in a hug with a beaming smile. “There is so much life to live. You’re going to love it.”

“I can’t take Eddie’s blood like you can with Max.” Allison doesn’t mind that, not really. All that matters is that Eddie wants her. “And Eddie doesn’t want to…outlive me.”

“I think it’s an oversight on the universe’s part that you aren’t soulmates.” The connection they have is so strong and their love so sure, you would have just assumed it if you hadn’t been around when they started dating. “It’s wonderful to hear that you’ll be able to be together.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smile at your own partner. Your other half throughout all of history. “Forever is quite fun, I have to admit.”

“You don’t look a day older.” Allison smirks as she takes in the changes you have brought back from the past. Self-assurance looks amazing and you seemingly glow. No longer the scared woman she had met in a farmer’s market, you are almost intimidating, and your entire aura radiates powerful magic.

“That’s a combination of Max’s blood and Audrey Hepburn’s face cream.” You smirk conspiratorially. “I’ll guard that potion with my life, since you won’t be needing it once you’ve been changed.”

“Interesting.” Her brow wings up at the mention of the famous actress, realizing you must have met her at some point. “Hepburn was a witch?”

“Particularly good with charms and potions. And she was fun. You never hear about her being fun, but she was great.” Beside you, Max has one arm around your waist and he hums proudly. “Max was a movie producer after the Second World War.”

“Really?!” The squeal is loud and enthusiastic and all heads snap towards the group. “Oh— that’s— I can’t believe we didn’t find you.”

“We were using different names at that point.” It had been essential to learn how to craft and re-craft new identities. Luckily, your grandparents had been fountains of information. “And Max only produced, so it’s not as though we were in anything.”

“Still.” She shakes her head and giggles. “The stories you can tell. What else have you two done?”

"I'll tell you everything starting tonight," you promise her, as the four of you step deeper into the house. It's good to be back at Chateau-sur-Mer again. To you and Max it has been just a few years since the last time you were here, but that's long enough to miss it. "But tomorrow you should come over to our house for dinner."

“Your house?” Her eyes widen and Allison frowns in confusion. “Dolly— th-this is your home. Cookie willed it to you, remember?”

"I know." And it is good to be back, but you rub Allison's arm affectionately. "But to avoid complications with my family through history...Max and I built another house here in Newport."

“When?” “Where?” Allison and Eddie ask at the same time with identical sounds of bewilderment.

They've reached a place where they have the same voice sometimes and it makes you smile softly. "You know that little gothic house on the beach that has basically been abandoned for the last couple of decades but somehow never decays? Seacliff Castle?" Beside you, Max smiles proudly. "It was finished in 1888. Max and Yayo designed it with the architect who built this place."

“You are kidding me!” Allison’s screech can raise the dead and she looks like a kid who was just told she was going to Disney and getting a puppy. “I have always wanted to tour that house, but no one knows who owns it. But it was you all along?”

"Come over tomorrow and we'll show you the whole place," you promise her, giggling happily at the absolute glee in her reaction. "But tonight? I want to see what you've done with the ball. I know it's going to be amazing."

“I have been so nervous.” She admits quietly. “But I think we have everything. Including donors for those who don’t eat bagged blood.”

“Mrs. Taylor and Yayo would never let you have anything less than a perfect night.”

“Do I hear my name being taken in vain?” From a nearby dark corner, your grandfather emerges into the low, atmospheric lighting of the great hall.

Max chuckles as he hears his sire’s voice. “Always.” He shakes his head. “Dramatic like always,” he jokes, having told you that your grandfather would make a dramatic entrance.

“I have learned that there are some things which are expected of me,” he jokes pleasantly. “Your journey was not difficult, then?”

“No.” Max reaches out and shakes his sire’s hand warmly and pulls the elder vampire in for a hug. “Cookie did not stake you for keeping our true relationship a secret, I see.” He jokes, even though everyone already knew that.

“She was…not happy.” He clears his throat distinctly remembering that particular fight with his soulmate. Cookie had been furious to find out that her beloved granddaughter and the witch she had been so fond of for a hundred years were one and the same.

“Hopefully she understood eventually why we had to keep it from her, and from Annie.” The contact with your mother had lessened over the years but she had never demanded that they choose sides, something Max had been grateful for – for your sake.

“She did understand.” He is sure of that, considering how very much it had been discussed. “But she regretted not being able to dote on you both as her grandchildren.”

“She did dote on us though.” Max protests and shakes his head. “She treated us like we were family and she loved Dolly like another daughter.”

“She did.” His sire nods, knowing it is the absolute truth. He sighs though, with a theatrical shrug of his shoulders. “But you know Cookie. My darling girl loved titles.”

“She was a special lady.” Max has a fonder appreciation for the older woman, even more so with the knowledge she had known who he was when he first arrived and still had kept her word to her husband to not say anything.

“She was remarkable.” Your grandmother may not have been perfect — in fact she was decidedly less than sometimes — but that was what made her so incredibly special to you. She had never demanded that perfection from you or Max that she tended to expect from Annie. Perhaps it was for the best that she didn’t know how you were at the time? You’ll never quite know.

“Yes, she was.” For a brief second, amongst those he is closest to, your grandfather’s grief shines on his face. Missing the other half of his soul as vividly as the day she had passed in his arms.

“I’m sorry, Yayo.” The only one of the four younger beings whose instinct is to reach out, you bundle your grandfather up in a hug. “I miss her, too. Her and Mom.”

He accepts the hug, squeezing you harder than he would have before you started taking Max’s blood. “Thank you, muñeca.” He hums softly, not missing the way that Eddie and Allison shift slightly. “I will be reunited with them soon.”

“You never know when the people we love can come back to us,” you hum, but the look on your grandfather’s face makes you hesitate. “But…somehow I don’t think you’re talking about that…?”

“Because you are bright.” Yayo praises softly, cupping your cheek and smiling at you mysteriously. “It has always been my plan to join my soulmate in her afterlife.” He admits. “Since she decided to end her mortality. I have only extended my time in this existence to make sure you were well settled, my darling muñeca.”

“Oh…” You don’t cry much anymore, but tears well up behind your eyes instantly. Saying goodbye to the last of your family is not something you had prepared for tonight. “I—but—the family?” He has so many more responsibilities than just your immediate family, you can only imagine that he was preparing for this for a very long time. Or else made a lot of decisions very quickly.

“Is your family now.” He reminds you softly. “Although I have decided to name my successor tonight.” He smiles proudly and hopes that you will not be too upset at him.

“This night is much more important than I thought, then.” Stepping back from him, you settle against Max’s side and try for a smile. Your grandfather is doing what will make him happiest and you have to respect that, even if it is rather a big shock.

“You will understand.” He promises, smiling at the group and then motioning towards the ballroom. “Let the evening begin.”

******

The evening, as Yayo so elegantly termed in, is incredible. With the party starting so late and the buffet being available to guests all night long, it seems that the ebb and flow of partygoers is constant. Music plays, people dance, and the lingering masses of vampires throughout the house are generally met with curiosity from the humans who find them fascinating — though they don’t quite know why. Those who are attending as donors are spoiled immensely and some have been given guest rooms for the night, but for the most part they seem to be an altogether dreamy sort of drunk to the unaware humans present. It is not until Yayo disseminates word to his extended family of brooding immortals to meet in the morning room that any sort of tension cracks the enjoyment of the night.

Max holds your hand, aware that you are upset, and he wishes he had some insight into this talk. As close as he had become to the older vampire, he hadn’t had a clue he was planning on giving up his immortality. “It will be alright.” He assures you softly, squeezing your hand.

“I know.” You squeeze his hand tenderly and lean into his side, long ago having learned how to be close even while wearing large gowns. You just wish you had had more notice. Time to prepare. “He just has to be dramatic as hell about all of this. Calling a family meeting in the middle of a ball? Very Yayo.”

“He likes to make a scene.” Max snorts, lifting a brow when the servers bring around glasses of blood and champagne for the guests. The one who stops in front of you, hands you a specific glass. “It’s white grape juice, madam.”

The barest sniff of sweet juice proves she is telling the truth, and you smile gratefully. Even after a hundred years? Alcohol holds no appeal for you whatsoever. “Thank you,” you acknowledge with a smile. “My husband prefers something a little richer, if you don’t mind.”

“Mr. Phillips.” Another glass is handed to him and he sniffs it politely.

“Hmmmm AB negative.” He smirks. “Someone put some thought into planning this.”

"Allison said she left blood menus to Mrs. Taylor." There is no mistaking that your friend took the responsibility of planning tonight seriously, and divvying tasks out to the appropriate people when delegation benefited the situation.

“Then I will have to thank her.” Max takes and sip and hums in approval. “But later.”

"Has he started yet?" Eddie and Allison slip into the room beside the two of you, already having said hello to the extended vampiric family earlier in the night.

“Not yet.” Max eyes the elder vampire. “I think he was waiting for something.”

"It's always something," you hum, sharing a grin with Allison as the same passing waitress who served you and Max returns to offer Eddie and Allison drinks before exiting the room. When she goes, she shuts the morning room door behind her.

“I would like to thank everyone for traveling to attend tonight.” Yayo’s voice never seems to raise in volume but it booms around all of you clearly. “Not only is this a worthy cause to humans dear to my heart, but it is also a special night for our future.” There is a smattering of polite applause and you lean into Max's side even while Allison does the same with Eddie beside you.

“All the vampires here, I have personally sired.” He reveals with a pleased smirk on his face. Considering there are no fewer than two dozen vampires in the room, a small murmur ripples through the younger of that number. The elder vampires chuckle with the knowledge. “And tonight…” He holds up his own glass of blood. “One of you will replace me as the elder vampire. Leader and mentor to the future.” He announces. “I have decided to join my soulmate in the afterlife.”

The limited, mannered responses are gone in an instant, replaced by an audible gasp and murmured exclamation as the members of your extended — very extended — family all look around the room to see if anyone knew this announcement was coming. Eyes fall on you more than anyone else, wondering if your grandfather will take his biological family into account in this decision.

“I know that a lot of people have wondered who would take my place. And at one point in time, I had imagined my grandson-in-law, Max Phillips, to lead our pack.” He turns his head and acknowledges him with a smile. “However, there is another that I have in mind, since Max will be busy with juggling a new role.”

New role? You look to Max with confusion, but it's clear from the furrow in his brow that he has no idea what your grandfather is talking about either. If anything, his expression is more akin to crestfallen than anything else. He's fallen short of whatever expectation his sire had of him...

“Years ago, I made a mistake.” Yayo admits to the men and women he considers his children. “My Annie, my daughter with my soulmate; I felt she was destined to leave the coven of witches and her soulmate Emmanuel would be the perfect vampire mate. I ended up losing my daughter and never got to properly apologize for placing so much emphasis on the wrong things.” He pauses for a second. “I want my granddaughter and her husband to focus on the most important role of all. They will be becoming parents.”

Enthusiastic is the word for the applause this time, though the reaction from you and Max — the people being announced — is pure shock. "H—how?" How could he possibly know that? Especially before you do?

Your grandfather chuckles, seeing the confusion and bewilderment on your face. “Your smell, my dear muñeca.” He explains with an enigmatic smile. “I have had the pleasure of smelling a vampiric pregnancy before. That is why your soulmate had not been aware either. There is a sweeter note to your blood.”

Honestly, you might be more embarrassed about having it announced in front of so many people if you weren't so flabbergasted by the news. With your jaw practically on the ground and your eyes watering, your free hand goes to your stomach while your other squeezes Max's so tightly you would be afraid of hurting him if he weren't a vampire. You're so shocked that you didn't even notice Allison take the glass from your hand or the proud uncle expression on Eddie's face.

“I want my family to focus on being there, being the best parents they can be.” He admits selfishly with a small shrug. “Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?” He jokes. “Max however, will be vital to the next leader. His own wisdom far greater than my own, and I feel that he will make Edward Perez the best leader vampires have ever had.”

Eddie's gasp is even more audible than your own when he hears his sire say his name. For that matter, it's been almost ten years since he used his mortal surname, and hearing it spoken so proudly is a kind of gratification that he can't quite express. While it's true that his sire — the entire room's sire — had given him more than ample guidance over the decades, Eddie hadn't ever considered himself anything too special. Not until he had started giving him more responsibilities in the last few years. Not until Allison had come along with her staunch and unyielding belief in him. Now it seems like all of that is coming to a head, and he steps forward hesitantly to stand up beside his sire.

“Eddie has been the best vampire that I could have imagined.” Yayo admits. “And Max— he has held a special place in my heart from the very beginning. I know that with Eddie in charge and Max advising him, our numbers will grow and your bonds strengthen.”

If there is any doubt or dissention from the other vampires of the clan, not a word of it is spoken in their sire's presence. Instead Eddie accepts a few nods and a whistle or two from his extended family and looks back at Allison to flash her a smile before putting his hand out to his sire. "I will do everything I possibly can to live up to this responsibility, and the faith that you've placed in me."

Max smiles, still a little shocked that he had not known you were pregnant. Leaning close and inhaling your scent to recognize the sweet, floral undertones to your blood for what it is. He had just imagined it was because modern food was processed with more sugar than in the past.

“I can’t be that far along, can I?” You whisper to him under the commotion of vampires now moving forward to shake Eddie’s hand or meet Allison for the first time. Many of them had not bothered to meet the younger vampire’s partner earlier in the night but they are making the effort now. “I mean…” you look up at your soulmate with disbelieving tears in your eyes, beaming an enormous smile at him. “I haven’t even missed my period yet.”

“No.” Max can’t help but lean closer to smell you again, addicted to the idea that you are carrying his child. If his own tears are concealed by your neck, that’s just a coincidence. “Your smell hasn’t been sweeter for long. Only a few days.”

“It’s sweeter?” Somehow that is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever heard — that pregnancy can and does make your scent sweeter instead of anything else — and the water behind your eyes presses at them again.

“It is.” Max hums softly, smiling at the newfound knowledge. Committing this smell to memory. “We will have to make sure you stay healthy, my love.”

"It's a damn good thing that I mined abuela for information about carrying a half-vampire baby while I still had the chance." The hand you have on your stomach curls in, conscious of the corset under your dress but knowing that there isn't anything but a tiny little bundle of cells in there right now. "Holy shit...pregnant..."

“I can’t believe it.” It’s not like you’ve been trying but you also have gone over one hundred years without protection. Max had quietly assumed children weren’t to be and had never mentioned it so he wouldn’t worry you. The relief that he can give you a child is one that would make him cry, and he will later on when it’s sunk in.

"I just sort of assumed..." you murmur, leaning into his side and burying your face at his shoulder. In this room you can be quiet as a whisper and everyone will still hear you, but they have enough respect to pretend otherwise. "After so long...I figured it was just...not in the cards."

“It just wasn’t our time yet.” He murmurs softly, smiling at the thought that you are carrying his little baby biter. “Do you want some of my blood or should we find a vintage you like for when the baby demands more than you normally take?”

"Abuela said she ended up drinking a glass of blood at almost every meal in her second trimester." Of course the word trimester hadn't been used in that conversation, but you had made copious detailed notes for yourself after any conversation in which vampire pregnancy or children rearing was mentioned. "I guess I'm going to have to figure out how to drink it when it isn't from you. Maybe mixed with hot cocoa? Or even decaf coffee."

He chuckles. “Actually, you might like it in tomato juice.” He suggests. “Keep you from thinking about it too much.”

"That's not a bad idea." The hand you have in his tightens reflexively, keeping him close and savoring these first few moments of realization. "We'll try a little bit of everything. It's going to be a very interesting nine months, considering I'm only the second woman in the world to carry a vampire's baby."

“I mean technically….” Max grins. “You’re a quarter vampire yourself. A little more than that every night.” He winks at you salaciously.

A momentary snort of amusement breaks a little bit of the bubble of worry that was starting to form in your mind, and you nudge him with your shoulder. "A hundred years later and you can still never resist joking about that."

“Babe, if I ever stop joking about that, you just go ahead to push that stake through my heart.” He jokes, knowing that you would never think about something like that.

"It'll never happen," you laugh, knowing as well as he does that some things will just never change.

“I know.” He bites his lip and grins at you. “So we haven’t had a wedding in this time.” He ventures. “What do you think about a shotgun wedding?”

"Oo, we've never had one of those before." An elopement, a grand party, a trip to City Hall, a backyard barbecue, and a small town bash — all of those you've done. But a shotgun wedding would be a new one for the two of you. "I think it's perfect."

“Now…we have to find out who’s holding the shotguns.” He jokes, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours. “Do you want to wait until the belly is huge or before?”

"We may not get a chance to have me showing off a baby bump in a wedding dress ever again. I think we have to take advantage of it." He can obviously feel the way your heartbeat has risen, smell the way your adrenaline is singing, but that tender bump of his heart when he kisses you makes it all a perfect symphony.

“Completely agree.” Max nods seriously. “The wedding should be themed. Obviously.”

"Baby themed or cowboy themed?" You ask, laughing but slightly afraid to hear the answer.

“Oh no.” He snorts and sends you a grin. “Hillbilly, shot gun wedding.” He tells you, enjoying the idea immensely even if you would never agree.

Both of you snort, knowing it isn't the kind of thing that you'll ever do, but that joking about it is it's own kind of fun. "Water guns as favours for every guest and a Beverly Hillbillies impersonator to marry us?"

He chuckles and nods. “Something like that.” He jokes before he looks at you seriously. “I do want us to be married officially before the baby is born. In our true timeline.”

"I have no problem with that." Somehow you have a feeling this will be the wedding that matters most to him, whereas the one nearest and dearest to your heart was the one in 1885 where you were surrounded by your family and new friends. Setting both hands on his chest, you lean in to kiss him again and smile softly. "We'll make this one perfect for you, love."

Max knows that after one hundred years of family with your mother and grandparents, he should not have familial hang ups, but he does. “I don’t care about perfect.” He promises. “I just want to do right by you and our child.” He admits. “To be everything my father said I would never be. A good husband, a good father. A good man.”

"Those are the things you are, Max." It never hurts to remind him once in a while. You know that. But you also know that sometimes he has to prove it to himself more than anyone else. "And I'm very proud to be your soulmate."

“I never want that to change.” The Max of before might not have said that in front of a room full of vampires, but he doesn’t care. If they know nothing else about Max Phillips, they should know that he is devoted to his soulmate.

It takes a little while for the hubbub to calm down, but when it does, Eddie squeezes his arm gently around Allison's shoulder on one side of him and looks to his sire and shakes his head in near disbelief. "This is...it's a surprise. I have to admit."

“You don’t think you deserve it?” Max asks, clapping his vampiric brother on the shoulder and even though he’s disappointed for himself, he’s proud for Eddie. He understands why Yayo didn’t name him as the next head of the clan. He would be too distracted by your pregnancy and Eddie is levelheaded where Max is not.

"We're the two youngest, and you're soulmates with his granddaughter," Eddie reminds Max, turning to clap his brother on the shoulder. "You can't blame me for expecting the choice to go in another direction."

“Nah, you deserve it.” Max tells him honestly. “You’re the better vampire and you know it.” He smirks. “Now we just need to get you to act like it.”

"Good thing you're home, then." He laughs, grinning even as he shakes Max's hand with a force that would break a mortal's bones. "We'll catch up with you in a second," he intones, glancing back at you and Allison hugging a few feet away. "I need to talk to our Father about something."

“Of course.” Max flashes him a grin and a wink. “I’m going to go flirt with my wife and your girlfriend.” He teases before moving back to your side protectively.

"Actually..." Allison slips away from your side to take Eddie's outstretched hand. "I'm...part of this conversation. But when we get back out there, I'm stealing you for a dance. Okay, twinkle toes?"

“Oh?” His eyebrows raise furiously but he nods and wraps his hand around your waist. “Hope you’re ready to glide around the floor. I’ve had over one hundred years of practice with Dolly.”

"That's exactly why I'm stealing you," she teases, giving you both a small wave before turning back into Eddie's side to broach the topic of her own siring with the vampire who just stepped down as head of his long-lived clan.

“I wonder if everything is alright.” Max frowns slightly as he looks at the retreating pair and then back at you. “How are you doing, my love?” He asks, cupping your cheek.

"Wonderfully." The glass of grape juice is still sitting nearby and you pick it up, wanting the small comfort of a drink in hand. "In fact, I think when we go home in the morning, we should celebrate."

“How should we celebrate?” Max asks with a grin, even though he’s got some idea.

"Hmmm..." you tease, pretending to think very hard about it even though you already know the answer. "I was thinking...by the same way that we made the little nugget in the first place."

“You mean you want to have sex on the balcony overlooking the ocean and waving to the boats as they pass by?” Max grins as he licks his lips.

"I'm so glad we decided to have a house by the water," you groan softly, humming at the memory of just a few days ago — it was still 1986 but you were back at Seacliff, getting ready to travel back to your own true timeline. "Excellent idea. Extremely good."

“I know.” He grins at you. The house has been a lovely refuge for the two of you. It had given you the separation you needed from mother and grandmother so you didn’t spill the secret.

"So Eddie's head of the vampiric family, huh?" Wrapping your hand around Max's arm, the two of you drift back toward the ballroom at a leisurely pace. "And you'll be his right-hand. That's a hell of a lot of responsibility while we're growing our own family."

“I think that’s why your grandfather didn’t want me to take over.” Max admits. “Although, don’t tell Eddie I said this, he’s a better fit for the job.”

"You're a good pair." You admit that you had balked a little at the time, but when Max had wanted to go check on Eddie's human parents in the few years before he was born, the late 70s and early 80s had actually ended up being a blast. Eddie's little hometown in Northern California was comfortable and fun, and you’d lived a very basic suburban life for a few years. Max had barely stifled tears the day your neighbors had brought little newborn Eddie home from the hospital.

“We’ll see.” Max doesn’t argue but his hand slides down to your stomach proudly. “I’ll honestly be more focused on you and the little biter.” He has already filed the paperwork to ‘inherit’ the money he has made over the past generations. Restraining himself and not taking advantage of his insider knowledge too badly.

“That’s what you’re going with calling the baby, huh?” You raise an eyebrow at him but still end up smiling. You’ve wanted this for so long, it almost doesn’t matter what he calls them.

“I can call them a little pup.” He teases, his chest puffed out proudly. “That’s what baby bats are called.”

“That’s actually kind of cute.” The smile on your face widens again and your hand rests over his on your stomach. “Which is appropriate, since you’ve always been my Cutie.”

His shy grin is always something that makes him look younger and despite the years, he still is bashful about the way he had become a bat to spend more time with you. “Need to find a bat mobile for the crib.” He jokes, “or I’ll just change and flap around to entertain them.”

“It will end up being both.” At the edge of the ballroom, you beam at him proudly and hold out your other hand. “First dance as expectant parents?”

“Always.” Max takes your hand and kisses the back of it. You had mentioned how much you loved the gesture when you had first watched Titanic when you were younger and while back in the 1800s it was extremely appropriate. Now he knows that two hundred years from now, he will still kiss the back of your hand to watch the burst of delight in your eyes. “Waltz with me. Today and every day, my love.”

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

VW: @haileymorelikestupid, @miraclesabound @nastiasnow @vabeachazn @oberynslady @grogusmum @kittenlittle24 @8-900 @survivingandenduring @ktmadden86 @inept-the-magnificent @missladym1981 @sweetnsaltyclussy @survivingandenduring

My Masterlist!

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 1/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

Kerry, an old friend of yours, knows that you have a gift for clairvoyance. When she reaches another dead end in the search for Jigsaw, she brings you into the station in a moment of desperation.

Unfortunately, it's not just the two of you who are present for your revelations.

Word count: 3498

Set after Saw II. Inspired in part by this gifset. I have no plan for this, I just started writing for fun, and suddenly I had 3000 words down.

WARNINGS: Blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, reader is deeply afraid, general Saw-levels of horror.

“Pretty sure having civilians in here is against the rules,” Detective Mark Hoffman remarks to his colleagues as he enters the precinct room, “…and having them play with the evidence definitely is.” 

Rigg looks up toward the voice, as do you, but Allison Kerry doesn’t. Her eyes are trained on the piece of evidence that you hold in gloved hands, a small and rusted lock.

Spread out on the desk in front of you are a variety of grisly photographs- from crime scenes and autopsies, all related to the now infamous Jigsaw killer- and a few pieces of physical evidence. It turns your stomach just to see them, but you swallow your discomfort and try not to show on your face how upsetting you find it.

“Take it up with the Chief. He approved this, as long as it never gets out to the public,” Kerry responds with a scowl. 

Nobody is happy you’re here. Least of all you. Rigg is the one to finally say it to Hoffman, with an air of forced levity- “Kerry’s got a psychic friend.”

That makes you wince, and Detective Hoffman’s reaction- a slight raise of his eyebrow, and an audible scoff- makes you all the more embarrassed to be here.

“Well, I gotta see this. Aren’t you going to introduce me?” He asks Kerry, walking over and pulling up a seat to the table that you’re all sitting around. He sets his cup of coffee down on the table, right beside some horrific metal contraption, and looks you over skeptically.

“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” Kerry snaps, her voice raising in irritation. She finally looks over at Hoffman, shooting him a glare. “She’s been right about things before, and Eric’s been missing for months. You have another lead, you let me know.” Having defended herself, and by extension you, Kerry runs a hand through her hair and sighs. 

After a pause, she tells Hoffman your name, and then adds, “We’ve been friends since college.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say with a strained smile. He nods in response, but he’s smirking, like he finds the entire thing ridiculous. To be fair, it is.

“Listen, I don’t… normally do this kind of thing, I swear,” you say to the table of detectives, who all watch you in anticipation. You feel like you’re on a stage, and it makes you worry they can see you start to sweat. You feel the need to defend yourself further, and prove you're not insane (or worse, an idiot). “This isn’t my job. I don’t charge money to do this or anything. I’m only here because Allison asked me.”

“Well then, work your magic,” Hoffman says, taking a sip of his coffee, “Rigg, you willing to put money on this?”

“Let me guess, you’re betting against?” Rigg shoots back, and Hoffman gestures as if to say, obviously.

Ignoring the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks, you close your eyes. 

“I can’t promise anything,” you mumble, but even as you speak you’re starting to get impressions. Those strange feelings and impulses that beat against your intuition like a war drum. 

Turning over the lock in your hands, you feel a sudden sharp pain in your left eye- you drop the lock, cringing, and gingerly reach up to touch your eye, feeling the bone of the socket under the skin.

“I haven’t told her a thing about the investigation, by the way,” Kerry says, and you detect a note of pride, or perhaps vindication, in her tone.

“Something was… here. Cold and heavy, like a lodged bullet.” You point to your eye. The table is silent now. You could hear a pin drop now, each detective’s rapt attention singularly on you. You get the feeling of something on your face, hard and suffocating. And then, the impression of cold- the long winter, wind whistling through trees, and still snow. The forest, the river, the empty lake.

Death.

“This was- whoever was associated with this didn’t make it out alive.” You open your eyes and pick up the autopsy photos, scanning through them until you find one that fits. A sheet covers the head, but you know what’s underneath. You still feel the echo of the mask on your face. Quietly, you pick it up, and then set it back down.

“Some of the details leaked. Lucky guess. Tell us somethin’ about John Kramer or his assistant.” Hoffman says, and you see him shuffle in his seat. His demeanour has changed, going serious. Keyed into your intuition as you are, something spikes a signal of danger through the back of your mind.

Not all that unusual for the cops you’ve met, though.

For several minutes, you get nothing but flutters of feeling and pain. Your foot goes numb, prickles like pins and needles; your body feels warm, like it’s being baked under the sun. Each sensation comes and goes just as quickly. You take the strange metal contraption in your hands, feeling the weight of it in your grasp, and close your eyes again, trying to stifle the feeling of panic that rises within you.

And then slowly, it comes to you. A vision of a chessboard, with multiple pieces, moving too fast for you to follow. It hurts your head to try. Finally, you speak again.

“I think… there’s more than just one. There’s the King. The Bishop. The Rook. The Knight- there’s at least… five? No, four. No wait, there’s a Queen, but is she aware of the play, or just a pawn promoted? And who is he? Is he real, or an imitation?” Your words are coming too fast for you to censor, spilling out so quickly that you trip over them.

“Are you saying there are… a team of Jigsaw killers?” Rigg asks dubiously. You nod.

“I think so. It’s all jumbled, it’s… a thousand strings weaved into patterns that I can’t follow. There are plans laid on top of plans, curled into schemes and plots. The King’s Crown is tainted with a rot, it drips down his forehead, it hurries his hands. It guides their every act.”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know where they are. I just feel her desperation- the Bishop. It’s like a fucking- it’s a torrent. She needs him, because she hurts, and she doesn’t know what care is like if it doesn’t hurt. God, and there’s so much hurt. It’s- it’s endless, it’s all pain. It's all pain.” 

“She’s not making any sense-” Rigg mutters.

“Eric Matthews. Where is Eric Matthews,” Kerry’s voice cuts through, bringing its own hailstorm of impressions to you- regret, remorse, desire, annoyance, desperation and guilt, heavy like a stone. Suddenly, you’re struck by the image of Kerry as an angel. You shake it off, confused.

“Ah… cold. It’s cold. He’s inside the Earth. Buried below ground, somewhere deep and dark. Poor Matthews. God. It’s so cold,” you can’t help but shudder, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. It seems so lonely.

Kerry is silent. It’s obvious she would have preferred something more optimistic.

“Anything else?” She asks finally.

“Yeah there’s… there’s something…” you bite your lip, and grimace. There’s a feeling there, distant and only a flicker, but it seems really, really important. 

“I can’t quite figure it out, it’s like… it’s like a mirror. What is it? What are you saying?” You sigh, trying to understand. A feeling of rage slips through you. Horrible, sickly loss and rage. A heady sadism, the feeling of power. A feeling of voyeurism- of enjoying it.

You receive a flash of an image, a large figure, in a pig mask. That image is pretty fucking clear, but there’s something about it that you’re just not getting, that seems like it should be really, really obvious to you. You chase the feeling through the corners of your mind, like a dream you can’t quite remember.

The image of the pig’s mask turns to a theatre mask, and then to a blank void. It swirls and laughs at you, mocking. 

“There’s something I’m not seeing with him. The brutal one, the Rook. It’s like... he’s been tied up and pulled into this by a wire. The King uses it to move him, but what started in reluctance has become...something else. Something sick,” you mumble. Ironically, with the face a blank and swirling void, the impression becomes stronger.

You feel obsession, the kind that eats away at a soul. They all have it, but this is like a slow burn, a chemical fire in his heart that erupts and spills out. He enjoys it.

And suddenly, it’s like he’s right there. Close,  close, it’s so strong and burning so clear because he’s right in front of-

Your eyes snap open, and you’re staring at Detective Mark Hoffman, whose eyes drill into yours. 

Without a doubt, with one hundred percent, absolute certainty, you know that he is one of the Jigsaw killers.

“Uh,” you tear your gaze from his, and look at Kerry. The prickle of danger is alighting every nerve in your body, and quickly, you’re starting to panic. You laugh nervously. “Sorry, I don’t know what that was. I don’t have anything else. I should go.” Abruptly, you stand. You need to get the fuck out of this room, where Jigsaw is sitting just feet you-

“Hold on.” Hoffman’s voice freezes you. He rests a hand on your arm, and like a frightened rabbit, you jump. “You alright? That was a lot. You sure you didn’t get anything else?”

“What, are you a believer now?” Rigg asks him. He too looks a bit shaken, but frowns. “Sorry, but we didn’t learn anything from that. I could have told you Eric’s dead. The rest was a mess.”

You incline your head in an apology, feeling your hands start to shake. “I didn’t get anything else. No identities of the accomplices, or anything like that,” Fuck. Fuck, you need to stop talking. When you say the word accomplice, Hoffman’s grip tightens on your arm.

His eyes meet yours, and you feel your breath catch. You think you’re going to be sick.

“You did good,” Kerry says, though she sounds disappointed. She looks over her notepad. “We got a lot of information that’ll be helpful to keep in mind as we investigate. And who knows, maybe more will come to you later.”

“Yeah, maybe,” You say. Suddenly, another wave of pain and dizziness crashes over you, so overpowering that your vision swims. You’re falling, spinning, and then you’re caught in a warm embrace. Sturdy arms are holding you, keeping you from collapsing to the ground.

You open your eyes to see the killer holding you, peering down at you. Expressionless.

Somehow, it feels comforting, even knowing what you know. Somehow, it feels protective.

Lies upon lies.

“Hey, I’m headed out anyway. I can drive you home,” Hoffman says gently, and your eyes widen. Wee oo, wee oo! DANGER!

“Oh, no, I’m okay, really,” You mumble, but as you try to stand and extricate yourself from Hoffman’s grip, he just holds tighter. He smiles in a way where you can sense the snarl, just below the surface.

“Shh. It’s alright. Don’t worry about it,” He says, quiet and forceful, right beside your ear. You catch Rigg rolling his eyes. 

“Really Mark?” He mutters. You shift in the embrace again, attempting to stand upright. This time, he lets you go, but keeps a hand on you. To the others you’re sure it looks like a helping hand to steady you. To you, it seems like a threat.

But what can you do? If you scream out that holy fuck, he’s a Jigsaw accomplice, Kerry might believe you and no one else will. You don’t know what Hoffman might do under pressure, but you’re certain that the word of a crackpot psychic wouldn’t be enough to put him behind bars. Not without some kind of proof. And without that, your safety would very much be in danger. More than it already is.

You could adamantly refuse his ride, but then he would definitely know that you know. And again, that puts you in a very dangerous position. 

Maybe you could play it off as though you didn’t see or know anything? What choice did you have? Kerry had accidentally fucked you by asking you to come in and do your best.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concerned. She looks from you, to Hoffman. “I have to stay at the office a bit longer, but I’ll catch up with you after. I promise, Mark’s a good guy, even if he looks scary and gets on my nerves. He’ll get you home safe.”

You muster up a smile. Kerry and Rigg know you’re leaving with him. He can’t do anything. 

“S-sure. A ride home would be great, then. If it’s not too much trouble.” Your smile wobbles under the intensity of Hoffman’s stare. You feel like a mouse, being cornered by a hawk. Finally, he lets go of you, only to put his hand on the small of your back.

“Steady now,” he says, "It's no trouble." You nod.

“Thanks. Sorry again I couldn’t be of more help,” you shoot Kerry an apologetic smile, and are ushered out of the room by Detective Hoffman. 

He leads you out of the precinct, keeping his hand on your back as he does. All the while, your stomach churns in anxiety. Down the corridors, and around countless bends and offices, you're lead down the stairs and eventually reach the door outside.

He stays right beside you all the way out to his car, close enough that you can hear him breathing. By now, it’s dark out, a quarter past nine in the evening. Kerry had asked you to come late, so that if anyone was watching the precinct, you wouldn’t draw any attention- jokes on her, you supposed.

Hoffman opens the car door for you- what a gentleman- and closes it behind you with a heavy thud. It feels like the closing of a coffin door.

A coffin. Another flash, of a coffin filled with glass. Blood, everywhere blood. 

“Never believed in psychics before,” Hoffman says to you. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat when you open your eyes. You hadn’t heard him enter the car.

“That’s what Kerry said, the first time I told her,” you murmured. You glance around the vehicle. The doors are locked from the inside, and you don’t know how to open them. 

“What’d you see this time?” Hoffman asks as he starts up the car.

“Uh, I don’t know. It was all blurry,” You reply. If you’re going to try to convince him you’re a shit psychic, you’d better start now. 

“Uh-huh,” he replies as he pulls out of the parking lot, “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You swallow nervously, your heart starting to beat wildly in your chest.

“I haven’t told you where I live,” you mention, trying to keep your voice light.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Hoffman answers coldly.

Oh, you’re so fucked. 

You close your eyes, searching your intuition and trying to calm your breathing. The damn ‘gift’ has never been much help to you, but if it could get you out of this situation, you would pray to Cassandra every night for the rest of your life in thanks.

“Don’t bother lying any more.” At first, you think it’s your intuition saying that. After a second, you realize it was Detective Hoffman. “You said enough that I know you’re for real. So what’d you see?”

You glance out the window. He’s taking you out of the downtown core, away from the busy streets and traffic lights and out toward the highway. Swallowing nervously, you reply, “A glass coffin. A lot of blood. I don’t know if it’s something that’s happened or is going to happen. It’s never really clear- that’s true.”

And I’m sorry about your sister, a voice inside you whispers surreptitiously. You bite your tongue before you say it out loud.

“How often you get that?” He asks.

“It depends. After a session like today, I’ll get waves of it for a while. And then it’ll ebb. But it always comes back.” A migraine is starting to bloom between your eyes, but you know it’s the least of your problems tonight.

His grip tightens on the steering wheel. Strangely, for a moment, he seems nervous. “Can you... can you talk to the dead?”

You shake your head. “No. Sorry. I wish I could.”

He drives silently for a while. For a weird moment, it almost seems peaceful. He drives on the highway, and then exits onto an off ramp, into an industrial district. Hoffman drives in silence with you for the better part of half an hour. Then, finally, he pulls off beside an old mill of some kind, one that looks like it shut down years ago.

There is not a soul around. If you were to start screaming now, at the top of your lungs, you doubt anyone would hear you. Hoffman unbuckles his seat belt, and turns to face you.

“Are you going to murder me?” You ask, voice shaking.

“Now why would I do that?” There’s a note of false concern in his voice, which is offset by the smug smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth. He wants you to say it out loud. 

Right now, you’re feeling helpless.

“Alright. Alright. Yes, I think- I don’t know what I saw. Maybe it was you, maybe it was someone else. Bringing me out here instead of home isn’t a good look for you, you know,” you ramble nervously. He watches you.

“You think I’m the accomplice," he confirms, "Explains why you were so jumpy after,” Hoffman leans across the middle console, and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. It would feel intimate, if it wasn’t overtly threatening. 

“Which brings me back to my question. Did you bring me out here to kill me?,” you size up the windows as you speak, wondering if you could break them, if you had to. Can you roll them down? Nope, locked too, just like the door.

“You’re the psychic.” He replies, before he says, “I’ve still got questions that you might be able to help me with. You’re too useful. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I won’t lie to you, so don’t lie to me, either,” you snap back at him. He actually laughs at that, incredulous.

“You’re really something,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Listen. Your... theories. You tell them to me, and only me. You don’t tell Kerry, you don’t tell Rigg. You wouldn’t want to put them in danger, would you? No one would believe you anyway, but let’s not take any chances.” Hoffman leans into your space again, using his size to intimidate you. He’s only inches from you, caging you entirely back against the passenger side car door.

You nod your head in acquiescence. He hums in approval.

“Good. You tell Kerry about your theories, and it doesn’t end well for anyone, get it? Can you 'sense' that?”

And you can. You know he will kill you if he has to. He’ll kill you, Kerry, your family, anyone that gets in his way or threatens his cover. You get the horrible, hopeless sense that nothing would be able to stop him if he wanted you dead.

“Give me your phone.” You pass him your flip phone, still feeling dizzy with adrenaline and a pulse of relief- that he’s not going to kill you. At least not tonight. Probably.

After a few moments, he passes your phone back to you, leaning back into your space. A contact has been added under the name Mark. 

“Now I wanna hear you say it. You’re not going to tell anyone else.,” pressed back against the car door, you almost feel like you can’t breathe, but you nod quickly. Sickeningly, your face is flushed from the proximity.

“I won’t tell anyone else what I see about the Jigsaw murders. Just you,” you breathe, and he nods, touching your neck for a brief moment before he lets go and leans back, sitting back in the driver’s seat and looking you over.

“Before I take you home. Is there anything else you picked up that you haven’t told me about?”

“Mostly just feelings. Power, rage, loss, pain. Things like that. The, um, pig mask,” you pause, floundering, worried that continuing will piss him off. But he catches it- of course he does- and raises an eyebrow.

“And?”

“And I’m- I’m sorry about your sister.”

He sits back like you’ve knocked the breath out of him. He looks truly stunned, staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. You quickly add, “I don’t know anything about what happened. Just uh, just that sentence. And the feeling of... of a crushing loss.”

“Right,” he shakes his head, starting the car back up. He nods to himself, like he’s still processing what you’ve said. “Fuckin'... wow."

"Yeah, the intuition doesn't pull any punches," You mumble in return. He glances at you in surprise, and you quietly curse your inability to shut the fuck up.

Reluctantly, you give him your address, and he starts to drive back to the city. Within another half an hour, you’re pulling into the driveway of your apartment building, anxious to be out of the car and into your home.

“Now I know where you live. Got it?” He murmurs. You nod again, mutely. As you exit the car, Mark stops you.

“I’ll be in touch,” he says, before you scamper into your building.

NEXT CHAPTER

[i-am-baechu]

♡ Summary: New Year's Eve and being invited to a party isn’t the craziest thing to hear. What's crazy to hear is getting invited to a party and meeting Idols at that same party. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime moment.

♡ Pairing: Fan girl! Reader x ot7! 

♡ Rating: Pg - 14 

♡ Genre: Fluff, little romance, kind of crack lol and just pure happiness! 

♡ Authors Note: HAPPY NEW YEARS! I can’t believe it's the new year, it feels weird saying 2024. Have a safe New Year! 

Working as a supervisor didn’t fulfill life like how L/N Y/N thought it would as a child. She still gets yelled at by her manager about things she didn’t do and she still has to deal with annoying customers. It was the normal life of a person in their late twenties. It also sucked that she lived with her parents because rent was ridiculously high. New Year's Eve was the start of something different.

Every New Year’s Eve, she would spend it with her family drinking apple cider as they watched the ball drop. This year, her friends wanted to do it differently. One of her friends, Allison, was invited to a party. She didn’t ask how she got the invite but she was grateful that she was going. At first, Y/N didn’t want to go but her mother told her that a twenty-five-year-old should be out with friends having fun. 

“All you do is work, Y/N. You deserve to have fun.” 

Looking for a dress was harder than she thought. To be more specific, a party dress. As sad as it sounds, Y/N has never been to a club. The one time she was going to go something came up and she had to change her plans. She picked out a simple beige dress that went off her shoulders. It was simple but she had cute retro flower earrings that had smiling faces on them. It was perfect for her. 

Allison was an introvert but she could be extroverted when she wanted to be, Alica was an introvert and hated everyone, and Y/N was the type of person to introduce herself to someone new because she would feel guilty if she didn’t. The perfect friend group on New Year's Eve. 

Y/N was sitting outside away from the music with her vodka in her hand. She was dancing with her friends but the music was too loud and it was starting to bother her. She had to take a quick breather outside. The beats from the music were loud enough to make the floor vibrant, it was giving her a headache. The night sky was cold enough to make bumps appear on her skin but the alcohol in her system was keeping her warm. 

“It’s cold isn’t it?” 

She turned her head at the unknown voice and her mouth dropped. Why the fuck was Park Jimin talking to her? She blinked her eyes and shook her head gently because there was no way this was happening. When she opened them back up she saw Jimin looking at them with his signature smile that made millions melt, she was one of them. 

“Ye-Yeah, it’s cold. Like it's really cold...you can get goosebumps with how cold it is. Which makes sense because it's the natural human response but that's beside the point.” Jimin let out a small laugh and nodded his head. He pulled a chair to sit next to her and she looked around to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. She looked at him with squinted eyes and leaned forward a bit. He watched her with a raised eyebrow but didn’t say anything. She put her hand out and touched his chest, “Holy shit...you're real.” 

“Yes?”

She pulled her hand back and bowed her head at him, “Sorry...I didn’t mean to say that out loud or touch you without asking...That’s bad of me. I’m sorry.”

Jimin let out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, “It's fine...I thought it was funny.” 

She took a sip of her vodka and nodded her head, “So why are you here?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like, you're an idol. You know, famous and rich...very rich. Why are you at this simple party?” 

“Because I made him come here.”

She turned her head and again her mouth dropped. Kim Taehyung was staring at her with a smirk on his face, “Ho-Holy shit.” 

“Well, he invented all of us here.” 

She looked past Taehyung and saw the rest of Bts looking at her with smiles on their faces. She nodded her head and stood up from her chair slowly. She walked towards the edge and leaned against the edge, “What the fuck is happening?” 

She heard a laugh and she turned around to see Jimin giving her a comforting smile, “We just wanted a break from the loudness in there.” 

She nodded her head and sat back in her chair but she turned her body towards everyone, “Well...welcome to the party. I mean the party has been going on for a while now but hi my name is Y/N...I didn’t see you but if I did I would’ve introduced myself...I think I would?” 

“I’m glad I can finally put a name on your pretty face, Y/N.”

She tilted her head at Jimin and squinted her eyes at him, “Huh?” 

Jungkook let out a loud laugh and took a sip of his beer, “I like her, she's funny.” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes and looked at Y/N with a welcoming smile, “Hello Y/N. I’m glad we can have someone new this evening for New Year’s Eve.” 

Jin took his phone out and the light from his phone lit his face up. Y/N just stared at him in awe, “It’s about midnight. We should go to the edge.” 

She pushed some hair behind her ear because she needed to touch reality somehow. Hoseok leaned forward and pointed at her earrings, “I like your earrings. It looks like this sweater I have.”

“They were three dollars. I was so excited to buy them.” 

Yoongi glanced inside and looked back at her, “We should go do the countdown.” 

“It's going to be loud...”

Jimin watched her cringed and nodded his head, “We should stay out here. There’s that big screen that has the countdown. We can do it together with our  new friend.”

“Fr-Friend!?” 

Jin nodded his head and pointed at the screen, “It’s starting! Let’s go before we miss it!” 

They all made their way towards the edge except for Jimin. He smiled at her and put his hand out for her, causing her to look up with confusion, “Let’s go see the countdown together.” 

She glanced at his hand and then at his face, “Su-Sure...” 

She placed her hand into his and he pulled her up causing her to hit his chest. Her eyes widened at the action and he smirked at her, “I would love to welcome the new year with someone as pretty as you.” 

“Likewise...?” 

He let out a laugh and they walked towards the edge with the others. Jungkook wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a bunny smile, “10!”

“9”

“8”

She looked at the screen and she couldn’t believe that the new year was happening. It didn’t feel like this year she accomplished much but her friends and family would disagree. Usually, for the New Years, she would feel depressed. This year it was different. She was hoping for something new. 

“3”

“2”

“1”

“HAPPY NEW YEARS!!” 

Jimin turned towards and placed a quick kiss on her cheek, “Does that prove I’m real?”

[writeriguess]

Your first wedding anniversarry with Five?? Female reader.

The clock in the grand hallway of the Umbrella Academy mansion struck noon, its deep chimes resonating through the walls. It was an old clock, one that had seen countless years and many generations of Hargreeves. Today, however, it marked a special occasion—your first wedding anniversary with Five Hargreeves.

It still felt surreal to think about it. A year ago, you had stood beside Five in a quiet ceremony, exchanging vows that transcended time itself. The man who had once been trapped between centuries, caught in a web of paradoxes, was now your husband. And today, you were celebrating this milestone with the very family that had shaped so much of who he was.

You smoothed down the front of your dress, a simple but elegant piece that Five had said made you look "timeless," and took a deep breath. The mansion was bustling with activity, as each of his siblings had taken on the task of making this day special in their own way. You couldn’t help but smile at how far they had all come, how much closer they were now compared to the fractured family you had first met.

As you descended the stairs, you caught sight of Five standing by the window, his hands in his pockets, his sharp blue eyes focused on something outside. He looked almost contemplative, a rare softness in his usually intense gaze. It was moments like these that reminded you of the depth of his character—how much he had lived through, and how much he cherished the simple things now.

"Five," you called softly as you reached the bottom of the stairs.

He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face when he saw you. "There you are," he said, his voice warm. "I was beginning to think you’d changed your mind about this whole family gathering."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Not a chance. I wouldn’t miss this for the world."

He stepped closer, taking your hands in his. "Good," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours. "Because I want today to be perfect for you."

You squeezed his hands, feeling a rush of affection. "As long as I’m with you, it already is."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "I’m the lucky one, you know that?"

Before you could respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupted the moment. You both turned to see Klaus standing in the doorway, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Sorry to interrupt, lovebirds," Klaus said, winking at you. "But we’ve got a little surprise for you in the dining room."

Five raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "What have you planned, Klaus?"

Klaus held up his hands in mock innocence. "Me? Nothing! It’s a group effort, I swear. Now come on, the others are waiting."

You exchanged a curious glance with Five before allowing Klaus to lead you both to the dining room. As you approached, you could hear the faint sound of music, and when Klaus pushed the door open, you were greeted by a sight that took your breath away.

The room had been transformed into a cozy, intimate space. Soft lights twinkled from the ceiling, and the long dining table was set with beautiful candles, flowers, and elegant dinnerware. But what caught your attention most was the large banner hanging above the fireplace that read, "Happy First Anniversary!"

Luther, Diego, Allison, Viktor, and even Ben (though only Klaus could see him) were all there, each one beaming at you with genuine warmth. It was a sight you hadn’t seen often—a family, united and happy.

"Wow," you breathed, taking it all in. "This is incredible."

"All for you," Allison said, stepping forward to give you a hug. "We wanted to make your first anniversary with Five special."

"And by special, she means not apocalyptic," Diego quipped, earning a few chuckles from around the room.

Viktor approached, holding a small box in his hands. "We all chipped in for this," he said, handing it to you. "It’s just a little something to commemorate the day."

You glanced at Five, who nodded for you to open it. Carefully, you lifted the lid to reveal a delicate, silver pocket watch nestled inside. The watch was beautifully crafted, with intricate engravings on the casing. Inside, the words "A Year in Time" were etched, along with today’s date.

"It’s beautiful," you said, your voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, all of you."

Five took the watch from your hands, inspecting it with a soft smile. "This is perfect," he said, his tone full of gratitude. "Thank you."

"You’re welcome," Luther said, giving Five a rare smile. "We just wanted you two to know how much you mean to us."

Klaus, never one to miss an opportunity for a joke, clapped his hands together. "Alright, enough with the sappy stuff. Let’s eat!"

Laughter filled the room as everyone took their seats, the atmosphere light and filled with love. The meal was a grand affair, with each sibling contributing something to the table—whether it was Luther’s attempt at cooking, Allison’s perfectly baked bread, or Viktor’s homemade dessert. Even Diego had pitched in, albeit begrudgingly, with some of his favorite dishes.

As the evening wore on, stories were shared, memories relived, and glasses raised in celebration. You found yourself nestled comfortably between Five and Viktor, who had become like a brother to you over the past year. The bond you shared with Five’s siblings had grown stronger, and it warmed your heart to see how much they cared for both of you.

At one point, Klaus decided it was time for some music, and before long, he had everyone up and dancing. The room was filled with laughter and the sound of feet moving across the floor. Even Five, who wasn’t particularly fond of dancing, joined in, his hands firmly holding yours as he spun you around.

"You’re getting better at this," you teased, a playful grin on your face as you swayed with him.

"Don’t get used to it," he replied, though there was a twinkle in his eye that told you he was enjoying himself more than he let on.

The song changed to something slower, and without hesitation, Five pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. You rested your head on his shoulder, letting yourself melt into the moment. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the feeling of his heart beating in time with yours.

"This is perfect," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft music.

Five pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. "It is," he agreed, his voice low and full of emotion. "You’re perfect."

You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes locking with his. The love you saw in his gaze was overwhelming, and you knew in that moment just how much he cherished you.

"I love you," you said, the words carrying the weight of a year’s worth of memories, challenges, and triumphs.

"I love you too," he replied without hesitation, his voice steady and sure. "More than you’ll ever know."

The music slowed to a stop, but neither of you made a move to pull away. The room had quieted, the others giving you this moment, recognizing its significance.

"You know," Five began, his tone teasing, "I think we should make a tradition out of this. Every year, we celebrate our anniversary with the family."

You chuckled, nodding in agreement. "I think that’s a great idea. Although, I don’t think any year could top this one."

He grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "We’ll see about that."

Before you could respond, he leaned in and captured your lips in a tender kiss. It was slow and sweet, filled with the promise of many more years to come. When you finally pulled away, you were met with the sight of his siblings clapping and cheering, their happiness evident.

"Get a room, you two!" Diego called out, but his tone was light, the teasing laced with affection.

You laughed, burying your face in Five’s shoulder, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and joy. He simply held you tighter, his own laughter joining yours.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter, stories, and shared memories. By the time the night came to an end, you found yourself curled up with Five on the couch, his arm draped around your shoulders as you leaned into his warmth. The others had retreated to their rooms, leaving the two of you in the soft glow of the dying fire.

"Happy anniversary," Five whispered, his lips brushing against your temple.

"Happy anniversary," you replied, turning your head to kiss his jawline.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other and the comfortable silence of the night. Eventually, Five stood, holding out his hand to you.

"Come on," he said, a soft smile on his face. "Let’s go to bed."

You took his hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Together, you made your way upstairs to your shared room, the warmth of the evening still lingering in the air.

As you settled into bed, Five pulled you close, your bodies fitting together perfectly. You sighed contentedly, feeling the weight of the day melt away in his embrace.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, "I never imagined I’d find something like this. Someone like you."

You smiled against his chest, your heart swelling with love. "I feel the same way," you replied, your voice full of sincerity. "You’re everything to me, Five."

He kissed the top of your head, his hold on you tightening. "I’ll spend every day of the rest of my life proving how much you mean to me."

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your eyes shining with unshed tears. "And I’ll do the same for you."

With that, you shared one last, lingering kiss before settling back into his arms. As you drifted off to sleep, the last thought that crossed your mind was how lucky you were to have found a love like this—a love that had withstood the test of time and would continue to do so for years to come.

And as Five held you close, his heart full of love and contentment, he knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together. Because in a world full of uncertainty, one thing was certain—his love for you was timeless.

[russellsppttemplates]

husband!driver FaceTime you to check in and finds you exhausted because your newborn was fussy all night, and you're worried he's getting a cold. He feels guilty because you're alone with the baby. The next update he gets is when you call because the baby got a temperature high enough the pediatrician thought it was better to go to the hospital,making he rush home to be with both of you.

Tw: baby is sick

"Did she keep you up all night?", George asked over the phone, seeing your dark circles and puffy eyes, "yes, she was fussy and kept coughing, bless her. Every fifteen minutes or so I'm taking boogies out of her nose with this contraption thing", you showed him the device you had insisted you wouldn't need when you bought it, "but we're making do. Your mum said she wanted to visit, and I said that me and Olivia had a rough night, and she said it's more the reason to visit us", you smiled gratefully, "I'll see what I can do here. Let me know if anything happens, okay, my love?", he said worriedly, "I will, bub. Say bye bye to daddy, baby girl", you waved her small hand to the screen.

The day had been okay, given the circumstances. When Allison arrived, she was quick to usher you to bed so you could have a nap, "I love you, dear, but you look like you've had better days. Go get some sleep while I take care of her, okay?", and Olivia had enjoyed cuddles with grandma until the late afternoon, "I think she has a fever, here are the meds", you noted, pushing the liquid in the small oral syringe and into your daughter's mouth, "I know it's yucky, my love, but it's what's going to make you better", you pouted, laying her again on your chest as you tried your best to comfort her.

"It's George", his mother said as she picked up your phone, "can you get it for me, please?", you asked while you patted Olivia's back, hoping she would burp after being fed without putting it all outside like the last time, "hey, darling, it's me", Allison said, "Hi, mum, thanks for helping out. How are my girls?", he asked, "Y/N is a little bit more rested, and Olivia is spiking up a fever, Y/N just fed her and we're waiting on the paediatrician to see of we need to go to the hospital", she said, "we just finished the presentation now, I spoke to Toto and he said it was fine for me to miss the dinner, I'm trying to get on a flight, I'll let you know what I can do", he mumbled, shuffling some things around, "George, we don't know how if we have to go- oh, now we do. She's saying it wouldn't hurt to go, so we're packing up and going", you noted, "I'll let you know how it goes".

Packing everything, you and Allison went to the hospital with Olivia, waiting to be called while in conversation with some of the other parents, "it's some bug that's going around, this is my third and I already know how this goes, doesn't make it less scary though" one of them conforted.

You were waiting for the prescription to be printed when your husband walked inside the room, "I'm sorry, hi, Dr. Millen, how are you?", George greeted, looking at Olivia resting in your arms and kissing your forehead, "Hi, Mr. Russell. She has a cold, and after a massage and some little aspiration, she'll be good a new with these medications", she explained.

Walking home, Allison volunteered to drive the car while you sat on the passengers' seat, "and you'll be better now, won't you little one? Toto said that daddy can stay home with you and take any meeting that comes through his laptop. Besides, everyone will be happy to see you", he doted on his daughter, "you know I'm home too, right? I can keep her for the meetings", you reasoned, "and miss Mick turning into goo the minute he sees her? Absolutely not!".

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

[sunnyy3d]

Hi are requests still open? If they are could you write about Thomas with the reader being Isabels sister, she has always loved him but couldn't say anything as she was already betrothed and died shortly after him due to illness, it wasn't until Allison came and Thomas starting flirting with her that the reader finally snaps and reveals her almost 200 year old feelings for Thomas?

All the Time in the World| Thomas Thorne x Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, I hope you love it!! It was actually so fun to write! I'm so sorry it took so long; it has been a STRESSFUL few weeks... But Happy Valentine's Day <33 I hope you guys had a wonderful day! This isn't necessarily a special, but I made sure to get it out today... Requests Open!!

     I remember the day Thomas died. It was one of the worst days of my life. The only other day that comes close to it was the one that revealed that I was to be betrothed to a man whom I did not love. Even if I tried, I could not love him, for my heart already belonged to someone else.

     Being the eldest daughter meant that I had responsibilities that Isabel did not. Regardless of whether I had found my true love, I was expected to be wed first and fast. And by the time I did, I had the choice ripped away from me.

     My parents wanted me to marry someone with a respectable profession, which Thomas did not fit into. So instead, they passed me along to a viscount. But I had no interest in him. He was the complete opposite of Thomas. He was serious and uncreative, not to mention old. I needed someone to share my love of art with.

     To cope, I made more paintings in my month of betrothal than I had ever before. I put all of my emotions into my art. Both my love for Thomas and my hatred for the viscount.

     Not long after Thomas' death, I fell ill. The doctors said that there was nothing that could be done besides living the rest of my life in peace. When I received the news, I was unsure whether I should be sad that my life would end short or happy that I would not be forced to live a life full of lies. I put the last of my life into my paintings, some of which still reside in the Button house.

     I often think about the life I could have lived if only Thomas had opened his eyes and looked closely. If only he were not so oblivious. But he was not. So, instead, he died fawning over someone who did not love him. I wish he had looked past Isabel's beauty and realized she was not the one who loved him. Alas, there is no changing the past.

     He still has not stopped being obsequious to every woman that walks past him. Even though he knows he has no chance with her, that does not stop him from spouting poetry at her. It is aggravating and, quite frankly, a bit pathetic. I mean, she cannot even see him. If he would just be a little less blind and catch all of the hints I have dropped, he would see a woman who loves him and all his stupidness.

     The only thing that has changed since Alison has shown up is that Thomas is more persistent. Now that he knows someone can see and hear him, he believes he has a chance. Of course, that is not actually true. Alison is like two hundred years younger than him, alive, and married. Honestly, it has never been more frustrating.  

     "Alison, my dear, you are the pinnacle of beauty," Thomas exclaims as I walk into the family room. Hearing the beginning of a rant, I walk straight out. 

     Unfortunately, Alison spots me before I can sneak away. "Wait, wait, I need your help!" she shouts, cutting off Thomas. I freeze right outside the door and debate whether or not I can get away with pretending like I had not heard her. Before I can decide, Alison seals my fate with a little "Please!"

     I sigh and spin around to re-enter the family room. "Yes, Alison?"

     "I was wondering if I could get a little of your artistic expertise?" she smiles shyly, walking closer. Thomas follows behind her like a lost puppy.

     "Of course you can, Alison. I am glad you asked." I really am glad she asked. It is not often that I get to participate in art-related things, being dead and all. Alison gives me a genuine smile and leads me to the other side of the room where the canvas she has been working on lies.

     "Something's off about it, but I'm not sure what it is. What do you think?" she asks while frowning. I tilt my head as I suspect the portrait. It is of Thomas, but she is right; something is off.

     "I think it is absolutely beautiful, Alison. Much like yourself," Thomas praises.

     I roll my eyes. "It is not bad, there are merely a few things that need to be fixed. Alison, I think you made his lips a bit too small. And the eyes need to be fixed as well. Everything else is good though." It only makes sense that I would recognize this; I have spent years yearning for him. With how much time I have spent around Thomas, I would be disappointed if I did not notice.

     Alison squints for a second, looking between Thomas and the portrait. "You're right! How did you notice that so fast?" I can only shrug in response, not willing to reveal the truth. 

     "I think that you have done a wonderful job, it is perfect like it is," Thomas claims. This is starting to get old. Actually, it is old, about two hundred years so. 

     "But that is not true. Besides the fact that nothing is perfect, Alison has only managed to capture your likeness, not you." It is true; she had the portrait of Thomas but had not gotten the more minor details. Though they may seem insignificant, they were the things that made him him. The things such as the sparkle behind his eyes that show his passion or the dimples in his cheeks that show his joy.

     "That is also not true," Thomas states matter of factly. "There are many things in this world that are perfect, and Alison's portrait is just one."

     Unbeknownst to me and Thomas, Alison slowly backed out of the room, trying to avoid the argument. "Oh, of course you think that! Of course Alison is perfect and of course her portrait is perfect! It is missing the most important detail about you! But no, it is perfect because she is," I yell, throwing my hands about. I do not mean to lose my temper, but I have been perfectly calm about this for far too long. 

     “I never said that! I merely stated that the portrait is," Thomas stammers.

     "You do not need to say it, it lies within your actions."

     Thomas looks into my eyes, "Clearly, I would need to say it because my advances have gone unnoticed."

     "It is not that they have gone unnoticed; it is simply that she does not return your feelings! She is married, for god's sake!"

     Thomas frowns, "But just because one is married, does that mean that she does not love another?"

     I hesitate, debating my next words. "No, it does not. And you would notice that if you would just open your eyes."

     "Are you saying?" Thomas cuts himself off.

     "Yes, I suppose I am. Thomas Thorne, I have been in love with you since I first saw you," I avert my eyes from him. "But you never loved me. You loved Isabel."

     I hear Thomas step closer. He grabs my hand, saying my name. "I did not love Isabel. I never did. But you were betrothed to the viscount."

     I finally look Thomas in the eyes. "Are you saying?"

     "I suppose I am," Thomas jokes. "I have been in love with you since I first saw you."

     "But, what about all the other women were infatuated with?" 

     Thomas squeezes my hand, "It may sound ignorant, but they were solely distractions. I genuinely believed you did not love me back, which I now know is stupid. It was the only way I could think to cope." 

     I purse my lips, thinking for a moment. "As nonsensical as that is, I suppose I understand," I say, clasping his hand within mine. I smile, and we stand in blissful silence, enjoying each other's presence. 

     After a moment, my smile drops. Thomas' brows furrow in confusion. "What is the matter, my love?"

     "You are telling me that we have been in the same house for over two hundred years, pining over each other? We could have been together forever ago!" 

     Thomas drops my hand, instead placing it gently on my cheek and softly caresses it with his thumb. "Well, at least we have all the time in the world to make up for it."

[dvrcos]

what are your thoughts on a kiss cam at the foxes' games?

Oooo this is fun! I think for sure there’s a kiss cam at the Foxes games, it’s a given for college sporting events.

I don’t think the Foxes pay attention too it though, yaknow too busy playing the game. I think Nicky and Allison would have fun watching it together when they’re sitting on the bench (the Nicky and Allison duo is so dear to me because you can’t convince me they wouldn’t have the most fun talking shit with each other).

Anyhow, one day Nicky meets the guy who runs the kiss cam camera in one of his classes. And they hit it off and as soon as Nicky learns he runs the kiss cam, he knows he has an opportunity brewing that he just cannot miss.

So he goes to Allison and they scheme. They bribe this kiss cam dude to point the kiss cam at the Foxes bench whenever Kevin is out of the game. And they make sure the upperclassman are in on it, they leave the monsters out because they don’t want it getting back to Kevin too quickly. Plus it’s just as fun to see their confused reactions as it is Kevin’s.

And lo and behold, during their next home game the kiss cam lands on the Foxes bench the moment Kevin gets off the court. And by some luck of the draw, Nicky is the one he decides to sit down beside. Nicky is absolutely rolling with laughter when Kevin sees himself on the kiss cam with Nicky.

So Nicky places the biggest, sloppiest kiss he can muster right on Kevin’s cheek before Kevin can pull away. And Kevin is so confused and caught of guard, he’s wiping the spit off his cheek and shoving Nicky’s shoulder (but he’s also smiling a bit).

The next time Kevin gets called off the court he sits in between Allison and Renee. And Kevin doesn’t even see that he’s on the big screen this time so he’s even more surprised when both women kiss his cheeks at the same time. And he’s spluttering and again so fucking confused.

Even Wymack and the new recruits catch on. Kevin walks off the court and Wymack grabs his cheeks as he walks pasts, pulling him down and pressing the shortest kiss to his forehead. Kevin starts sitting next to the freshman to get away from whatever the fuck is going on with the upperclassman, not yet connecting the dots. And the freshman just have to play along and kiss his cheeks and temples whenever they get put on the cam.

Kevin is so genuinely confused by it but he also can’t bring himself to be too pissed off. He just pushes whoever it is away lightly, wipes his cheek and smiles to himself while watching the game. The upperclassman have never seen Kevin so casually happy and relaxed. Their prank has kind of backfired but in the best way possible and they’re alright with that.

But oh that one fateful day. Kevin, of course, gets called off the court to be subbed in for Neil and he takes Neil’s seat. Which is right next to Aaron. And of course the kiss cam focuses right on the pair and Allison (also on the bench) just dismisses it, Aaron doesn’t know about the prank so there’s no way he plays along with it.

Until one of the freshman nudges Aaron’s shoulder to bring is attention to the kiss cam. And his pale cheeks light up bright red. Kevin follows his gaze and Allison watches the smug, shit eating smirk spread across Kevin’s face. He turns to Aaron and rest his hand on jaw and kisses him square on the lips.

And Allison is just baffled because Aaron Doesn’t Pull Away ??? He not only doesn’t pull away, he Kisses Kevin Back ???

Allison is shocked and if she could she would stop that game right there and then to ask every single question that’s running through her head. She does interrogate them during half time and they give her nothing.

Nicky and Allison of course don’t call off the kiss cam guy so The Foxes, excluding Neil and Andrew, continue to mess with Kevin whenever they’re on the kiss cam. And it’s still always shocking whenever it lands on Aaron and Kevin and they kiss each other, no embarrassment.

[mummybear]

My Brother's Best Friend - Part Two - Too Much

Words: 4085

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Mention's Of Blood, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, I think that's it! :)

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: Tensions are running high when you discover more than you had ever imagined has happened over the past few months. What you do discover after all this time might only be the tip of the iceberg.

A/N: Hey guys, so this is part two! Thank you to everyone who has read/liked/commented on the first chapter I appreciate it more than you know! This chapter is a little more angsty than the last so I hope you enjoy it, had to bring in momma McCall for this one! Enjoy, and let me know what you think! :D

Chapter 2 - Too Much

The drive back home is silent, the air thick with tension. Almost like nobody dares to speak a word. Stiles flexes his fingers and they move further up your thigh. You have to fight your body's reaction to squirm against the onslaught, you want him closer and you want him to stop all at the same time. You bite your lip when his long fingers brush against the edge of your panties. Fighting every instinct currently battling it out in your psyche, you close your legs, trying to focus on the road ahead, rather than the insatiable man beside you.

Your eyes snap toward Stiles when you hear a deep and pleased rumble coming from him, as he buries his nose in your neck his lips slowly make their way up. Not stopping until his teeth are nibbling at your ear. You can taste the slight hint of blood on your tongue as you continue to bite back the whimper of want building in the back of your throat. Suddenly though, you lose control when his fingers brush against the dampened lace of your panties.

“Is that all for me? So fucking wet,” Stiles rasps his voice almost a growl, as his teeth drag across your ear lobe and another whimper leaves your now parted lips. 

“Stiles. Stop, for fuck’s sake,” Scott growls, and you swear that you hear the creek of the steering wheel beneath his grip.

Stiles either doesn’t care what your brother has to say or he just simply doesn’t listen. The next thing you know his lips have dropped to your neck once again, and he’s sucking what you have to assume is going to be a mark into your neck. He releases the skin with a gentle nip of his teeth and he groans when his fingers push your panties to the side, no doubt happy to finally get to your bare skin. You suddenly forget where you are and who you’re with. You can’t explain it, but the next thing you know you’ve parted your thighs, and you’re rolling your hips to get closer to him.

“You want me to make it all better, beautiful?” he growls, dragging two long fingers through your slick.

“Please, Stiles. I need it,” you whimper as those fingers slowly but firmly circle your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet. All fucking mine.” He moans as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you push his hand closer to you. Letting out a shuddered moan when his fingers move to your opening.

“Right. That’s it, I’ve had enough.” Scott snaps, and Stiles pulls you against him right as Scott slams on the breaks.

Stiles grins at you as he slips his fingers between his lips, your gaze is glued to him as he sucks those fingers between his plump lips and moans in pleasure.

Suddenly the back door opens, and it’s almost ripped off of the hinges, you’re dragged from the car by Lydia, apparently you had made it home.

“Hey Lyd’s,” you grin at her dreamily, letting her tug you further away. Leaving just enough room for Scott to barge in.

“Hey Mini, hell of a night, huh?” She smiles, wrapping an arm around you, probably worried you still can’t stand up properly. In truth she’s not totally wrong. 

You wince as Scott drags Stiles from the car and roughly slams him against the side of it. 

Suddenly it's like you’re doused in reality, as your lust fades a little further into the background. Leaving it so that you’re able to focus once more on your surroundings. What you see leaves your mouth open in shock. Lydia takes your hand and gently squeezes it, while you both watch the scene unfold, but the shock of what you are watching leaves you unable to squeeze back.

Because it looks as if Stiles is fighting against Scott, and Scott doesn’t exactly appear to be finding it very easy to keep Stiles in place. You can’t see Stiles’ face, but you can see Scott’s red Alpha eyes reflected in the window of the car. The sudden roar that cuts through the air even has you scared. You haven’t heard your brother this angry in a long time, and even Lydia flinches beside me as instinctively pulls me closer, while the other wolves bow their heads in submission to their Alpha. 

Your hold on Lydia’s hand would be painful for most people, luckily you know she can take it. Scott’s forehead presses against Stiles' as they seem to have a quiet conversation, so that nobody can hear. There’s a collective sigh of relief when Scott steps back and releases Stiles, leaving him to sag back against the car. 

However, then the confusion is back for you. The humiliation of what you’d let Stiles do to you in front of everyone in that car, including your big brother, his best friend. You can feel the deep blush as it covers your body. You need to get out of here, you take Lydia by surprise when you yank your hand free from hers, slowly stepping back away from the scene and everyone involved. Almost as one everyone turns to look at you, and your heart hammers painfully in your chest. A tear rolls down your cheek, you just don’t understand, what the hell is going on? 

In the right place at the right time, maybe you’d have gone there with Stiles, but not that fast, and certainly not the two places where things had happened tonight. It was almost as though you had no control of your actions, no control of your own body or mind.

“Sadie? Hey, it’s okay. This isn't your fault, none of it is. Just come inside, I think we should all talk.” Scott sounds so sincere, not one look of judgement on his face, he’s stepping closer slowly, like you’re a wounded animal that he’s scared will run if given the opportunity.

The tears are falling now, thick and fast, but you don’t dare to look anywhere that isn’t your brother. Too scared of what you might see on his friends' faces. There’s one direction in particular that you can’t even consider glancing in, because you’re terrified of the look of regret that will be on his face. 

You continue to step back though, you need to be anywhere but here and quickly. Your heart is aching painfully, you don’t know what to do, your head hurts so much right now.

“Please, dont,” Scott practically begs, his big brown eyes meeting yours, but when he takes another step towards you, you do the only thing you can. You run.

You don’t even know where you’re going, unable to think straight or see very well in the dark you simply take off. Scott knows you well enough to know that if he follows you, you wouldn’t want to talk about anything right now. So all you hear as you run is your own heartbeat thundering in your ears and the wind whipping around you as you sprint faster than you have in years. You don’t stop until your legs and lungs are burning, only stopping to rest against the railing by the lake. Letting your head rest on your arms, sucking in air the best you can.

When you finally have your breathing under control, you stumble back into the bench behind you and sink into it with a thud. Tilting your head back, you look up at the stars, wishing that anything about tonight had made any sense. 

Your lifelong crush had made out with you, in fact you’d even taken things to the next level. You can’t help but think that you should be happy. But so many things about tonight don’t make any sense, and you hate it. You need this night to make sense. You can’t forget the look of desperation on Stiles’ face when it had just been the two of you, even if he liked you a lot, that look, you just don’t understand it completely. You’d known him your entire life and he had never once looked at you that way. It was almost like he was terrified you’d turn him away, even more than you’d been that he would do the same to you. Then there’s that word he’d growled before he’d pounced on you. Mate. What the hell did that mean? Not to mention that purple glow his eyes had. Once you have chalked it up to a trick of the light or something, but you had seen it alot more than once. 

Before you can drive yourself insane you hear the crunch of leaves behind you, and you jump up and spin around. But your anger very quickly deflates when you see the one person who always knows how to make everything better. “Mom? What are you doing out here?” you ask in an almost broken whisper. Trying to keep your voice even, though you know it’s pointless, she knows you too well. Not to mention that the person who had sent her here would’ve told her everything anyway.

“Baby, come on. You know better than to try that around me,” she smiles gently, pulling you into her arms as soon as she’s close enough. 

You sag against her as she wraps you in her arms, burying your face into her shoulder and the tears come once again. She doesn’t even try to stop the tears, only holds you tighter, until they stop on their own. 

When you’ve finally stopped shaking she leads you over to the bench, and you take a seat before she turns you around to face her.

“You want to talk about it, sweetheart?” 

“I dunno if I can. I mean this isn’t exactly normal stuff. Even if it was and I wanted to talk, this is why I should have a friend to talk to, but since Callie. I just can’t,” you sniff, trying to block out memories of your best friend. 

Callie had been killed last year, thankfully nothing to do with werewolves or the supernatural. Not that it would have made much difference, she was still gone. You missed her like crazy, she knew everything about you and your crazy mixed up family, it never scared her away, she was always there, no matter what was happening. Until that one night. It felt as though your heart had been ripped out when you’d received the news. It still does when you think about it for too long.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. Though part of this is perfectly normal, honey. I know you’ve always had a soft spot for Stiles. I can just listen if you want? You can leave out anything you don’t want to tell me,” she smiles, nudging you gently with her shoulder when you look at her, your face unable to hide the shock that she knew.

“How did you..?”

“How did I know about Stiles?” she chuckles quietly, cupping your cheeks so that you meet her eyes.

“Because, not to be a cliche, but I am your mother.” she winks at that, making you smile, then she shrugs and wraps her arm around your shoulders, “and honestly, I think the only people who didn’t know were Scott and Stiles. Those boys, I swear they haven’t changed since they were kids.” 

That fond smile on her face is one you can’t help but share, with a defeated sigh you meet your mothers eyes.

“I know you won’t tell me any details, but something’s going on right? I’m guessing you know Stiles has changed somehow? You just won’t tell me how, right? He has to tell me himself, or Scott?”

“We never could keep anything from you baby girl. Yes, a lot has changed, with Stiles, and otherwise. Honestly I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this. I mean… It’s big, I won’t lie. But I know you can handle this Sadie.” 

You swallow the lump which has lodged in your throat as you stare down at your hands, “I’ll try. That’s all I can say, until I actually know what’s going on. Unfortunately I guess we can’t put this off forever.” 

You stand and take your mom’s offered hand and the two of you make the short walk back to the house, albeit slowly, she knows you well enough to know that you need time to process everything still. 

“If you need space then you tell me. I’ll make sure you damn well get it, Alpha or not, he’s my son and your brother. You know he will do whatever is best for you. If you want, we’ll make them wait until morning? It’s your call, sweetheart.”

“Pretty sure there’s only one thing I can do.”

You straighten your spine and take a deep breath, looking over at the woman on your right. She’s by far the strongest person you’d ever met, and likely ever would meet. You’re pretty sure that you already know what she would do in your position. Clenching your free hand into a fist, you turn to look at her. Melissa McCall could’ve become a victim so many times in her life but she’d never become one, and you intended to follow in her footsteps, no matter how difficult the situation, you wouldn’t let anyone break you.

As if she can read your mind she gives your hand a squeeze and smiles, “that’s my girl.” 

When the two of you return home the house is deathly quiet, no sign whatsoever of anyone outside the house. Immediately your mind goes to the worst case scenario and judging by the slow steps your mom is taking, she’s thinking along the same lines. 

The front door creaking open is the only sound in the house, and it sounds so much louder when it’s surrounded by the silence. “Maybe they just left?” you whisper hopefully, not even believing the words as you say them.

Almost as if by muscle memory, in the pitch black you wrap your fingers around the end of Stiles’ baseball bat, you’re a little surprised that it’s still here, when he doesn’t appear to be. But you’re not about to complain about having a weapon when you need one. As you move through the kitchen there’s the slight drip of the tap, a sound which seems to almost bounce off of the walls in the silence. You can even hear the sound of the wind whistling against the windows but nothing else.

The hand that’s wrapped around yours tightens further, as you’re pulled closer to your mom’s body. You take another step forward when a thought occurs to you, swallowing your fear you whisper once more.

“What about the basement? We sound proofed it, could they be down there and we’re worried over nothing?” 

The moonlight almost seems to light the path as soon as your mom gives you a nod of agreement. The basement had been installed shortly after you’d all gotten Stiles back from the Nogitsune. It had come in handy more than a few times in the past. You feel your nerves escalating, the closer that you get to the basement, the worse your nerves become. You regretfully put the bat down by the door as you carefully turn the doorknob, wincing at the squeak you’re certain will follow. Fully aware that the basement had been sound proofed, and if they are down here, then you wouldn’t know until you open the final door at the bottom of the steps. 

With all of that in mind you take the stairs slowly, carefully manoeuvring around the third step down, since that one has always squeaked rather obnoxiously.

Your entire body feels as if it’s shaking from adrenaline and nerves as you reach the bottom of the stairs, wiping your hands on your clothes, you then reach for the door handle. When suddenly the door opens. You stumble back in alarm, grabbing for the baseball bat, which you quickly hold above your head, quickly stepping in front of your mother. 

However, you quickly lower the weapon, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when your eyes land on your rather dishevelled looking brother.

“Scott, what the hell is going on?” you ask urgently, hearing a deep growl coming from the room behind him, and the clang of chains is unmistakable. 

Your brother gives you a pitying look as he chews nervously on his bottom lip, to your surprise he steps out of the room, gently taking you by the shoulders, he pushes you back into the hallway.

“We should really talk, Sadie. Just come upstairs. Mom could you maybe…” he nods his head towards the door behind him. With a smile she gives your hand a final squeeze, before she releases you. Quickly doing whatever it was he had asked of her, she seemed to know exactly what it was though.

“Come on, we should sit. I’ll even get your favourite ice cream out,” he grins at you, but you know your brother well enough to see that he’s nervous.

“Well, shit. This really must be serious, Scott McCall sharing with the pain in the ass little sister.” Your joke seems to fall on deaf ears as Scott simply sighs, he looks tired, like dead on his feet tired. You gently grab his arm as you both sit on the sofa with the tub of ice cream between you, “Hey, you’re okay, right? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.” 

“I’m okay, mostly at least. I just really wish we didn’t need to have this conversation, especially not now, not like this, Sades. I don’t even know where to start.” Scott tells you quietly, dragging a hand over his face, the stubble along his jaw is almost becoming a beard at this point. Something so unlike your brother that you’re surprised you’re only just realising.

Seeing your overconfident brother so unsure is so unusual to you, he hasn’t been like this since before he’d become a werewolf. You could count on your hands the few times you’d seen him return to this unsure worried version of himself. Which only made you all the more nervous, but you didn’t want to push him to hurry up and explain. You’d let him take his time, because as much as you needed to know, he was your best friend and your protector. Seeing him like this hurt more than you could've ever imagined.

Moving the tub aside you lean your head on Scott’s shoulder, “Maybe you should get some rest, you look like shit big brother,” you laugh when he shoves you off of him with a grin. 

You turn to face each other, pulling your legs under you, the way you used to when you were kids. When you were wanting to have one of your conversations, where Scott plays big brother and gives you his sage advice. Not that it was always good or right. Half the time it was stuff that you knew already, or stuff that you would never do. But you loved him for trying all the same. 

Your father had left not long after you were born, and as young as Scott had been he’d stepped up for you. He was the one man you knew you could count on, no matter what, and that wasn’t going to change you were sure of it.

“You don’t need to look out for me, Mini, that’s my job, remember. I look out for you,” Scott smiles, gently nudging your shoulder.

“No, you're my brother, that was dad’s job. But I prefer you anyhow,” I smile at him, and lean into the sofa.

“So which is it? Bed or are we gonna do this now?” 

Scott sighs and straightens in his seat, and just like the Alpha is back.

“Oh I wish I could, little sister, you have no idea how good a bed sounds right now. But we’re doing this now.” 

“Okay, I’m listening. Tell me everything that I don’t know about, might as well get it out of the way.”

“You remember a few months back when I went to visit Stiles?” he asks you carefully, and you’re already shocked. 

“This has been going on for months!? You’ve been lying and hiding this from me for months! I understand most of the time Scott, but dammit something that’s as important as this clearly is, you should’ve told me!” you almost shout, unable to hide or hold back your anger. Especially when it quite clearly seemed to concern you.

“Go on,” you sighed apologetically, realising there was no point in being angry about this, of course he hadn’t told you, yet another time he was trying to protect you no doubt.

“Sadie, if we had any idea any of this would end up involving you I would’ve told you the second everything happened.” 

“It’s fine, Scott, I understand. But it isn’t just that this involves me but it’s clearly important.” Shaking your head you clear your throat, before looking back at him, doing your best to reign in your anger. “Anyway, yes I remember, you said something about Stiles needing help, but you never did tell me what he needed help with.” Your need to know more only grows the more he talks about Stiles, something is definitely off, and you’re worried some of your earlier thoughts may have been correct.

Nothing could have prepared you for your brother’s next words however. 

Taking a deep breath Scott tells you the truth of that weekend away he’d had.

“Stiles had been struggling for months. He uh… he was starting to forget things, silly things at first, then he really started noticing it and he called me. He was too scared to go to the hospital, he didn’t want them to tell him what he already knew.” Scott lets out a shuddering sigh, wiping his hands on his jeans. 

Your mind is begging him not to say what you already know is coming, “go on,” you whisper nervously, grabbing his hand when he reaches for you.

A tear drops from Scott’s eyes when he meets yours and you swallow thickly, “I...I convinced him to go to the hospital. Yanno, maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Part of me wishes he’d ignored me, but he needed to know. We needed to start planning. Unfortunately, the doctors only told us what he already knew. Fuck this is hard.” Scott moans quietly, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Stiles had developed frontotemporal dementia. Just like his mother. It fucking broke him Sades, he tore out of that room so damn fast. I followed him, but he told me he needed time to process, just some time alone.” Scott’s voice is shaking so hard, and you feel like your heart just broke in half, but you know only by the look on your brother’s face that isn’t where the story ends.

Clearing your throat you squeeze his hand, “there’s more, isn’t there?” you ask tentatively, feeling the tears fall freely from your eyes. 

“Fuck, do I wish there wasn’t,” he mutters, his laugh devoid of humour. A roar sounds from the basement, and then you hear a door slam. You look at your brother with wide eyes and he sighs sadly once more. “I shouldn’t have let him go alone. He was worried he was being followed during training by something, he didn’t know what yet and he didn’t tell me, not until that day in the hospital waiting room. I should have followed him, but he needed space.” Scott looks up and meets your eyes once more, “I was walking around the parking lot of the hospital when I heard him scream. Then I remembered his stories, and I didn’t even think, I just ran as fast as I could. But by the time I got to him, he was bleeding out on the floor, Sadie. He looked so bad, he was white as a damn ghost, could barely keep his eyes open, I lost it. My instincts… just kicked in.” Scott whispers the last bit as another tear rolls down his cheek.

Jumping to your feet you feel your breathing start to change, as you try to consider what else he could be about to say, but only one thing comes to mind.

“Don’t say it, Scotty, please.” 

He gets to his feet and pulls you into his arms before you collapse, “I did it. I bit him.”

Tags:

@julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @lilulo-12fanfiction @charmed-asylum @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs @peachyyybabyy @fantasy-myth1 @death-unbecomes-you @coffeebooksandfandom @magssteenkamp @screamxqueenx94 @brien-odylan @riseandshinelittleblossom @ceceliaking-18 @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @missindecision @deans-number-one-fan @onethirstyunicorn @amberboo329 @chewie-redbird

[self-conscious-author]

Coup de Foudre - Chapter One - Running With The Wolves

Beacon Hills Animal Hospital

It’s on a quiet Saturday afternoon that the McCall pack finds themselves in the back of the clinic. The weather is pleasantly warm, and the day seems to be going peacefully so far. But that can change very quickly in Beacon Hills.

They wait patiently as Deaton finishes with his last patient, a sweet old yorkie belonging to an equally sweet old lady.

”Alright,” Deaton says after locking the door behind them. “Now that we’re all here, I have something very important to tell you.”

That sentence alone has all of their attention. Is there already a new threat to handle? They’re already dealing with the after effects of the Nemeton, which, if the new girl Kira is right, ends with death. Not exactly a happy thought.

Deaton notices them all tense and smiles reassuringly. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. A friend of mine should be arriving in town tonight and I thought, given her background, you should all be introduced.”

“Background?” Scott crosses his arms. “Is she a werewolf?” 

“No-“

“Is she evil?”

Allison rolls her eyes with a grin. “She wouldn’t be his friend if she was evil, Stiles.”

“Well, maybe she’s really good at hiding it, we can’t forget Miss Darach lady. She had everybody fooled. Especially him.” Derek levels him with an unamused glare when he lifts his arm out towards him.

Deaton raises an eyebrow before continuing while walking towards his bookshelf. “I’ve known her all her life, trust me she’s one of the good ones.”

“Well, what is she?”

He places a large, old book down on the table facing them. The dark brown leather is well-worn, showing the extent of its use. “She’s-“

“Hang on-“ Stiles interrupts, staring hard at the book now in front of him with squinted eyes. “You have a bestiary?”

“Of course, I have a bestiary.”

“So, we could’ve just-“

They all think back to when they were trying to sneak Gerard’s away from him, and sigh in defeat, with Stiles dragging his hand down his face.

Deaton huffs out a laugh before turning to a specific page and continuing. “She’s a Witcher.”

“A what?”

“Most Witchers hunt other supernatural creatures-“

Everyone tenses again while Derek crosses his arms. “How is that good?”

“Most Witchers.” He emphasizes with a look. “She, and her parents, on the other hand, protects them. Your mothers were actually close friends, Derek. The three of us discussed different matters on several occasions, and they only ever disagreed one time.” He points at the picture depicting a white haired man and woman with what looks to be glowing tattoos. The man holds a large sword in his grasp. “Here.”

“Woah.” Stiles whispers, leaning closer. “Witchers can quickly learn any known language upon first hearing it. They have superhuman agility, accelerated healing, enhanced supernatural strength, speed, hearing, and smell.. All to better catch their prey.” He clears his throat uncomfortably and shares a look with Scott. “Woah.”

“So, they’re kind of like a werewolf, you know, besides default google translate.” Isaac furrows his brows.

Deaton nods. “In Medieval times, a Witcher would travel around the world being paid to kill, hence the languages.”

Lydia makes a noise, motioning back to the book with her finger. “Wait, what’s with the glowing tattoos?”

“The ways to spot a Witcher are their silvery white hair and their glowing markings. Besides that they look completely normal, just like a werewolf,” He nods to Scott, Isaac, and Derek, and then Lydia. “or a banshee. A new mark appears on their skin every time they kill, or in Eira’s case, every time she saves someone, bringing them into her pack.”

”A Witcher’s markings glow on command or when in the presence of their mate.” Stiles reads, absorbed in the book in front of him. A Witcher’s eyes and markings can appear different colors depending on the situation the Witcher is in. When angry or asserting their dominance, much like an Alpha werewolf, the glow is red. When in pain or afraid, it is yellow.

“Like a werewolf mate?” Derek questions, receiving a nod in return.

“It’s similar,” Deaton says. “but a Witcher’s mate gains abilities similar to their own. They can also locate each other once bonded, even if they’re on opposite sides of the world.”

Witchers are unaffected by kanima venom and most poisons and diseases, as well as the bite of a werewolf. They are believed to have been created by witches, made to eradicate the more foul of supernatural beings which they themselves were not equipped to deal with.

While those who know of their existence may have need of them, many fear them due to the sheer magnitude of their power.

“Why doesn’t she hunt us like she’s supposed to?”

“That’s for her to tell you, Scott. Not me.”

He nods in understanding, quietly thinking for a moment. She definitely seems like someone they’d want on their side. And if Deaton trusts her, and Derek’s mother was friends with her mother- “Is it just her?”

“She has a pack, of how many I’m not sure. Last time I saw her there were six, including herself, but she could have saved more since then.”

“Well, I want to meet her.” Stiles looks up, and shrugs when he notices all eyes are on him. “What? It’s cool!”

Scott shakes his head with a smile. “Alright. We’ll all come back later tonight. Deaton, will you take us to her?”

〰️

Once the sun sets, the previously empty parking lot of the clinic fills with three cars, before emptying once more as they drive towards the preserve. Because apparently it isn’t only Derek that likes hiding in there, as Stiles points out, earning him another unamused stare from the sourwolf himself. Only Scott hears his grumbled, “I have an apartment now.”

They finally arrive at what appears to be a large log cabin and clamber out of their vehicles. “Okay, how have we never stumbled upon this?” Stiles swings his arms out towards the building.

Scott shrugs his shoulders with a shake of his head, having absolutely no idea, before following behind Derek and Deaton.

“I called ahead so she knows we’re coming, but I should still do the talking. They’re all very protective of each other.” They all nod in understanding, they’re protective as well, especially after what just happened to Erica and Boyd.

“This place is really nice.” Lydia whispers to Allison as they walk through the front door, with her nodding in agreement. It’s not massive, but it’s big enough to show there are clearly many people who live here. It’s neat, but not spotless. Already it feels lived in and warm. There are a few toys in the large open living room, telling them there is at least one child among them.

As they get closer to the back door they begin to hear the beat of a drum, as well as singing. But Deaton doesn’t seem surprised as he opens the door, revealing a fire with eleven people surrounding it.

What appears to be a married couple are dancing next to a grill with their daughter clapping to the beat from her place on the grass, a young boy sits next to her clapping and smiling as well. Sitting on the far side of the fire next to them, a red headed boy around their age appears to be trying to make a stern looking woman laugh; if one looked close enough they could see the corner of her lip tilting up slightly.

A large tattooed man with blond hair sits by the fire nearest them playing a set of four drums with his hands, with a curly blond haired boy no older than two standing in front of him, completely enthralled.

Sitting across from him is a boy and girl that look to be their age as well, watching a beautiful woman with silvery white hair sing, joining in occasionally themselves.

They’re all surprised to find the mysterious Witcher looks to be only a year or two older than themselves.

The short woman is sitting beside the man at the drums, singing in Icelandic, as Deaton quietly tells them, and smiling when the young blond boy gazes up at her.

She has a braid on either side of her head holding her hair out of her face, and is wearing an orange-ish brown dress that ends just above her knees, showing them that her arms and what they can see of her back are indeed covered in tattoos.

“She’s gorgeous.” Stiles’ awe filled whisper draws the attention of his best friend, only for a shock to run through him at the sight of his eyes glowing a bright white.

“Whoa, Stiles, what’s going on with your eyes?” 

They all whip around to stare at him, completely forgetting about where they’re standing and who could possibly hear them.

“Wha-what are you talking about?”

“They’re glowing.” Isaac whisper yells.

“What!?” He frantically rubs his eyes then looks back at his best friend hopefully.

“Nope, definitely still glowing!” 

“What the fu-“

“Could it just be something from the Nemeton?” Lydia asks, only for Allison to shake her head.

“I don’t remember my eyes glowing white recently.”

“No, you just hallucinated.”

Due to their attention being on the phenomenon of Stiles and his glowing eyes, none but Deaton notice that while the drums and masculine singing is still going, its feminine counterpart has stopped.

That is, until they hear a warm accented voice greet Deaton. “Velkominn vinur (welcome friend), it’s been too long.” 

“It’s good to see you, Eira.” The doctor and Witcher hug tightly for a moment before separating. “These are the people I told you about. Scott McCall, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, Isaac Lahey, Stiles Stilinski, and Derek Hale. Everyone, this is Eira Einarsdóttir.”

They all wave while Stiles gazes wide eyed until Lydia bumps him. His eyes finally stopped glowing once the Viking woman approached.

Now that she’s closer they can see she’s barefoot and has several silver piercings on each ear, and her eyes are a striking crystalline blue color. And when she smiles in greeting she reveals a set of sharp canines.

“Hale?” Derek nods. “I heard what happened, with the fire. My mother often spoke very highly of yours when I was a child. You have my sympathies, and hers.”

“Thank you.” It’s safe to say the teenagers are a little surprised, having never heard Derek thank anyone, ever.

“You came at the perfect time, my friend. Let me introduce you to everyone.” She smiles again, and if you asked Stiles he would swear his heart stopped beating, before turning so she’s facing more towards her pack. “This is Amy and Seán.” The teens, having heard their alpha, turn and wave at the newcomers.

Well, Seán waves, his dark eyes zeroing in on Lydia, Amy shyly lifts her fingers which causes Allison and Scott to smile.

Eira then points to the stern noirette and cheerful ginger. “Heather and Anthony,” The family of three and the young boy. “Laureli, Arthur and their daughter Clove, and Amy’s brother Oliver. My brother Bjørn on the drums.” The little blond comes running into her legs causing her to laugh before she picks him up and holds him close, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes. “And this is Ragnar, my son.”

That throws the pack for a loop.

Ragnar gazes wide-eyed at them all with the same piercing blue orbs as his mother. “Can you say hello, litli úlfur?” (little wolf) He doesn’t speak, but waves his little hand happily, causing the girls to quietly ‘aww’.

His mother places a tender kiss on his forehead before leading them all closer to the fire and her family. Now that Bjørn is standing, they can see he’s Derek’s size. “Deaton, it’s good to see you again.” And wow is his voice deep.

The two grasp arms. “How are you, Bjørn?” Deaton introduces everyone again and the large man responds with nods and handshakes.

Stiles finds himself standing next to Eira, somehow simultaneously jittery due to being so close to her while also feeling a warm sense of calm. It’s then that the small werewolf in her arms suddenly reaches for him, causing his eyes to go wide. “Oh- wow okay, hi.”

Eira gently deposits her son into Stiles’ arms, smiling as she watches Ragnar show him his little silver wolf medallion, causing him to quietly mumble something to him.

She directs her inviting smile to everyone once more. “Please, sit. Join us. I believe Arthur is finished with the food.”

Everyone from both packs proceeds to place themselves on the benches around the fire, after Eira introduces them, again. Heather gives everyone a hard stare, which they don’t take to heart, understanding the woman’s caution. Anthony waves at them all with a mouthful of his burger as he sits back down next to his stern counterpart, resuming his attempts to pull a laugh from her.

Clove hands Allison and Lydia each a daisy, before promptly running behind her mother’s legs, while Oliver simply waves at everyone from the ground. Laureli’s soft motherly voice guides them all towards her husband, where he ensures they all take something to eat.

Seán guides a very shy Amy over to talk to the girls, with the three of them perching on their bench, while he and the boys discuss lacrosse.

With everyone sitting down to eat, no one notices Stiles only just now placing little Ragnar at his feet for him to wander over to Clove and Oliver. Where he proceeds to plop down on the ground to eat hotdogs Laureli places in front of them.

“I can only smell a few werewolves.” Scott finally points out with Seán nodding in response.

“Me, Heather, Anthony and Ragnar.”

Eira, having heard her son’s name, ruffles his curls before sitting next to Stiles. “Bjørn is a werebear, so he’ll smell a little different.”

Sounds terrifying.

“Amy and Oliver are naiads, water spirits, while Laureli and Clove are dryads, forest spirits.”

The whole McCall pack listens closely, these being new creatures they haven’t heard of yet. “Arthur is actually a human from a family of hunters.”

Allison smiles at the mention of another hunter family protecting instead of hurting. It’s reassuring to know not everyone is like her grandfather, or her aunt.

“So, you saved all of them?” Derek chimes in from the other side of Bjørn.

“Most, not all.” She pauses to watch her family. “Bjørn was the first, he didn’t need saving,” They both quietly chuckle. “he never has. He actually found me.” Her eyes seem to dull and sadden, as if remembering something painful before brightening when her brother places his hand on her back. “Then we found Seán,”

“Oh boy, here we go.” He mumbles.

“He was playing the piano in a pub in Galway trying to impress a lovely young lady. It was absolutely beautiful- what was it again?”

“Uh.. it was Liszt.”

“Will you play some later?” He nods, making her smile before going back to the introductions. “After him we found Arthur, Clove and Laureli. They didn’t need saving either, but when I offered them a place among us they accepted.”

She smiles over at the happy little family. “Then it was Heather,” She doesn’t go into detail, knowing the she-wolf would rather her story be kept secret from strangers. “-then Heather actually found Anthony.”

They look over to see the redhead smiling proudly, having finally gotten Heather to smile. “She brought to our attention a young boy being abused by his human stepfather because he thought he was a monster.. Looking at him now, you would never guess the horrors he’s been through.” Derek grins softly across the space at Isaac.

“And Amy and Oliver..” She receives a nod from Amy and finishes. “were hiding in a crawlspace in their home from hunters, with their parents slaughtered in the next room.”

Her marks and eyes take on a faint red glow, remembering how she buried Amy’s face in her neck while Arthur enveloped little Ollie into his chest so neither had to see the carnage.

No one notices Stiles’ eyes also gaining a red hue. Until Amy smiles softly at her savior, bringing her back to the present and removing the glow from them both.

Now that he’s closer to her, Stiles trails his eyes along the side of her face, taking in every detail. He can’t help but feel like he’s seen her before.. In a dream maybe..

〰️

Everyone is relaxing and trading stories after finishing eating, with Bjørn mindlessly tapping his drums in front of him until it becomes steadier as Ragnar settles into his mother’s lap.

Eira begins to softly sing to her son as her body sways to the music. She leans her head against his own, watching him turn his medallion over in his hands.

Go run and hold to safer grounds

But don't you know we're stronger now

My heart still beats and my skin still feels

My lungs still breathe and my mind still fears

She smooths her hand along his curls before pulling him closer to her, settling his head against her chest.

But we're running out of time

All the echoes in my mind cry

There's blood on your lies

And the sky's open wide

There is nowhere for you to hide

The hunter's moon is shining

Stiles watches as she gently bounces her son on her lap, pulling a little smile from him, and silently decides her voice is his new favorite sound. He leans forward, placing his chin in his hand as his foot begins to tap along with the music.

I'm running with the wolves tonight

I'm running with the wolves

I'm running with the wolves tonight

I'm running with the wolves

I'm running with the

Stiles watches in fascination as the marks on her body begin to glow a soft pink color, beginning at her wrist where Ragnar traces his little fingers along a swirl, flowing up her arms and disappearing behind her back.

Before Stiles knows it the song is over, and his eyes are fading back to their rich brown.

〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️ 〰️

So, I’m finally rewriting this and thought I’d post it here as well as on Quotev and Ao3, incase there’s anyone on here who wants to read it 🤷🏻‍♀️

-No part of this story may be copied or reposted to any site for any reason without my consent-

[that-demigirl]

Born To Die - Chapter 9

Chapter Summary: Allison and Erin wait for news on Maverick and Rooster

A/N: AHHHH! We're so close to the end...

As much as Erin fought it, they were taken to medical the minute they landed on the carrier. All four of the pilots/WSOs were checked over to make sure they didn’t sustain any major damage. Nothing was found besides minor bruising and cuts. Erin immediately found herself a radio as soon as she could. She sat by it waiting for any sign of Bradley or Pete.

“Erin, this isn’t good for you, you need to rest,” Allison tried to urge her.

“No, I won’t rest until there’s confirmation that they’re dead or alive,” Erin argued, staying put. Allison gave up the fight and sat next to her. Robert and Natasha joined them, saying nothing but offering quiet comfort.

After a few minutes they heard reports of an F-14 being airborne and Bradley’s ESAT sending a signal. Erin almost cried out of relief. They were alive, they were headed home. The relief didn’t last long as they heard reports of fifth-gen fighters engaging them.

“Don’t let me lose them again,” Erin prayed softly. Allison held one of her hands tightly, giving her all the comfort she could.

“If I know anything about Maverick, he’ll get them home,” Allison told her.

“Yeah, if anyone can pull off the impossible, it’s Maverick,” Robert chimed in, agreeing with Allison.

“They’ll make it home,” Natasha said confidently. Her confidence gave Erin the comfort she needed. Then they allowed Jake to launch and provide air cover for them. Erin didn’t ever think she’d find a time where she was grateful to Hangman of all people.

“Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen,” Jake’s voice came through the radio they were all huddled around, “This is your savior speaking. Please fasten your seat belts, return your tray tables to their locked and upright positions and prepare for landing.”

Erin let out a laugh of relief as she made eye contact with Allison, who was smiling as well. The four huddled around the radio group hugged out of joy before making their way to the deck to wait out the landing of the three in the sky.

As soon as Bradley and Pete were out of their planes, Erin went running over to them, pulling them in for a group hug. If she was crying, well neither man was going to tell her that. After pulling away she pushed Bradley harshly.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, you understand?” Erin looked him straight in the eyes, “I can’t lose you, Bradley.”

“I don’t plan on it,” Bradley responded to her, making eye contact back. Erin smirked, pulling him in by the straps of his flight suit and kissing him. After a moment of surprise, he kissed her back.

“All right, kids, I’m glad you figured your stuff out, but maybe not on the deck?” Pete interrupted them, causing all of them to laugh. Everyone else in the detachment got their hugs and congratulations. Even Allison hugged Bradley, letting him know she was happy he made it home.

“Chalked yourself another kill,” Bradley said to Jake as he shook his hand. Both Allison and Erin were standing with them, matching smirks plastered on their faces.

“That makes two,” Jake responded.

“Mav has five, makes him an ace,” Allison piped in, her and Jake meeting eyes. After both Jake and Bradley shrugged in agreement, Allison pulled Jake in for a hug. He hugged her back tight, like he almost didn’t believe she had made it out.

Soon enough medical had come to grab Bradley, Pete, and Jake for their own check ups. The girls followed after, Erin refusing to leave Bradley or Pete and Allison being worried about Jake, even if she didn’t admit it.

“Aw, you worried about little ol’ me?” Jake teased Allison as they waited on the doctors to be done with Pete and Bradley.

“In your dreams, Seresin,” Allison shook her head, “Someone has to make sure you don’t get yourself in trouble.”

“You’re all the trouble I need,” Jake flirted, meeting her eyes and almost daring her to back down.

“Sure, sure,” Allison blushed slightly, glancing away, “I’ll believe you once the adrenaline has worn off.”

“Allie, I’m sorry about…” Jake’s tone grew less playful and more serious, “About everything really. About how I’ve treated you, in the past and now.”

“Hey, we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to,” Allison stopped him, “You’ve already earned my forgiveness.”

“I don’t know why, I don’t deserve all the chances you’ve given me,” Jake responded, hand reaching out to hold hers gently, “But if you’d let me I’d like to spend every day trying to make it up to you.”

“Jake…” Allison said softly, threading her free hand through his blond hair, “Well, if you want it that badly, you can start by taking me on a proper date and… you can start by not leaving me this time?”

“Yes ma’am,” Jake agreed easily, “I don’t think I ever want to leave you again.”

“I’m holding you to that,” Allison told him, “We can talk more late, for now let’s celebrate with our friends.”

“Your friends,” Jake countered.

“They could be yours too if you were less of an ass,” Allison quipped just as Erin walked in.

“Well, they’re keeping Bradley and Pete for observation over night,” Erin informed them, “I’m gonna stay with them, so don’t worry about me, Allie.”

“As long as you rest, Erin, you need it,” Allison told her sternly.

“I will, I will,” Erin promised, “Now go, both of you lovebirds, go.”

“Hey!” Allison began to protest but Erin was already shooing her and Jake out. Jake just chuckled at the two girls, letting Erin push him out of medical with Allison. It was time to celebrate and he planned to stay right by Allison’s side for as long as she’d let him.

Taglist: @djs8891

[greghatecrimes]

hiiii i am the closest to your timezone that i will ever be and as such am in time to see your request for camteen ideas !! if you are looking for cracky, something to do with the whole chase/cameron use to date but now cameron is dating his sister, OR if you want something softer maybe a late-night cant sleep cozy sleepy camteen?

⚡️

Lightning anon my beloved! Thank you for the prompts!! :D Cozy sleepy Camteen it is!

Too Sweet

(read fully below the cut, or read the polished version on ao3!)

Each time she feels Thirteen slip into bed beside her, Cameron's still not completely certain that it isn't all a dream. The ambience of it all is serene, in a way living with her other partners never has been. The quiet rustling of their satin bedsheets; the slightly-floral scent of what's left of Remy's perfume after a long day at work; the soft hum of Thirteen's voice greeting her when she drifts in and out of her hazy sleep and sighs. It almost feels too perfect, too fragile, for it all to be true. Like if Allison reaches too far, opens her eyes just a moment too soon, she'll find herself lonely and cold on the other side of consciousness.

There's a brush of warmth against her skin as Thirteen climbs into bed beside her and nuzzles close, nestling herself perfectly against Allison's back. She feels the gentle pressure of Remy's chin against her shoulder; feels her arms, safe and sweet, coming to wrap around her in an embrace.

Slowly, she opens one eye, and then another. The warmth never fades.

"Hi," she hears Thirteen say softly from behind her, a sleepy smile evident in her words. It's always this, the sweet murmurs of her voice, that make Allison truly certain all of it is real. That the woman beside her won't turn to dust if she dares to sink into the moment, to hold on just a little bit tighter. "Miss me?"

Allison shifts and turns to face Thirteen, as slowly and as gently as she can. They've done this enough times now that neither one of them has to let go; Thirteen moves over to give her a few extra inches of space, Allison flips onto her side. The moment she's settled they're pressed together once more, drinking in the feelings of each other's sweet familiarity.

A smile pulls at her lips. "Hi, you." she says. Thirteen's tense, but not extremely so; it must not have been terrible at the hospital, at least. She rests her forehead against her girlfriend's shoulder and leans in to place a little kiss just above her collarbone, then another on her neck. "When don't I?"

"You're such a cheeseball." Remy teases, and Allison can picture the grin on her face without having to look. "You barely had time to miss me at all."

"Time s'it?"

"Three thirty. Case ended quicker than we expected."

"Mmmm... that was fast." That means that she still has several hours before she needs to get up for her overnight, and only one person to spend them with. A warm sort of contentedness bubbles in her chest. "What was it?"

Thirteen nuzzles her face into some of her girlfriend's hair. Allison knows she's savoring the feeling of the softness against her cheek; it's not at all uncommon for Thirteen to seek out physical touch and sensation as a way to regulate herself after a particularly busy shift. She's always more than happy to provide. It's one of her favorite things to wake up to when she's on night shifts. "Guess."

Slowly, one brow goes up, as drowsy as the rest of her. "...It's hard to think medicine when you're so distracting."

"Wow. And I'm not even trying." Thirteen teases, amused, and then gives a little shake of her head. Allison can feel the warmth of the other woman's breath on her skin with each word. Oh, she wishes she could wrap herself in this moment and stay in it forever. "Cameron, I think that might be kind of gay of you."

One of Allison's hands sneaks up to cradle the base of Thirteen's head, where her skull meets her neck. She runs her fingers through the down-soft hair there, lavishing in the soft, contented sigh it coaxes from Thirteen. Already she can feel her girlfriend starting to relax, in both body and mind. "Says the woman in my bed."

"Mmm-hmmm." Thirteen closes her eyes and moves ever closer, shifting so that she can rest her head on Cameron's shoulder like a pillow. Cameron feels her cross her ankles under the blanket as she does so, and a moment later, Thirteen's feet start to cricket against each other in a slow, steady rhythm. Cameron's heart swells– It's just too damn cute when she does that.

It's the littlest things about Remy that capture her attention the most; the sort of details she never bothered to notice with Chase, or even her first husband, during the few months of her marriages. How her hair falls over her face in fine, wispy waves; the dainty, curved Cupid's bow at the peak of her lips. She could spend an entire lifetime memorizing those features, and still not have had enough.

"I can feel you staring." Thirteen says, muffled, from where she's tucked against her.

How could I not? She thinks. Instead, she says, "You're beautiful."

"No, I'm tired and sweaty. I think you're delusional."

"I'm not that sleep deprived." Allison tells her, carding a hand through her hair once more. She's not sure she's ever adored someone quite so utterly and completely. "I just love you."

There's a fraction of a second where she expects Remy to freeze. A part of her wonders if this is the moment everything at last disappears, and she finally wakes from this too-sweet dream. She's always known that there's an impermanence to this ethereal thing between them; that something this beautiful wasn't made to last. It creates a marked hesitance between them when it comes to things beyond the day to day. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Family. The prospect of engagement, or even marriage.

The L-word.

Because while Cameron has the rest of her life ahead of her, Thirteen's tied to a strict timetable– one that grows smaller with every passing day. And it's taken a hell of a lot of persistence– and patience– for Allison to convince her that she doesn't have to walk that path alone.

So she waits with baited breath for the flinch. The inevitable rush of cold as Remy's body pulls away, retreating back to where it's familiar, back to where it's safe (alone, alone, alone). When she does finally stir, Thirteen lifts her head up to look at Allison, lips parted ever so slightly in shock; blue eyes wide and bright and beautiful.

"Hey," Allison says softly, reaching forward to tuck some of the other woman's hair behind her ear. Remy's eyes immediately dart away from hers, pupils constricting as she forces herself to focus on a spot that's somewhere vaguely above Allison's head. "I know that was sudden, and it's been a long day for you. I'm sorry."

"No!" Thirteen blurts. One of her hands shoots out to grasp Allison's as it hovers just beside her face, as though she's afraid one of them might vanish if she's not quick enough. "No. I didn't mean... you don't have to be sorry. Please, don't be sorry."

"If it makes you uncomfortable–"

"No. It doesn't." Remy shakes her head. Looks down at the bed. "It scares the hell out of me, if I'm being honest, but I'm not uncomfortable. I... liked hearing you say it."

Allison blinks in surprise. She can only watch as Remy looks up into her eyes and takes a breath; musters up a brave smile, hesitant but genuine.

"...Thank you. For saying it. I love you, too."

For a second, she swears she's having some sort of heart palpitation. A grin splits Allison's face, so wide and jubilant that it aches. "You do?"

Thirteen nods, a little more sure of herself this time. "I do."

With a gentle hand, Cameron nudges Thirteen closer. When the other woman doesn't offer up any kind of complaint, she turns onto her side and wraps her arms around her girlfriend's shoulders. Another one of those sighs escapes as Thirteen lets herself melt into Allison's embrace, the kind that releases the tension in her body along with it. The kind that means she feels safe.

Allison decides that she doesn't care if it's all a dream. She doesn't care that eventually, in seconds or minutes or a decade from now, she'll have to wake, and release the woman she loves from her arms. She lets herself to melt into the love she feels for Remy, so big and wide it had once scared her.

"I'm with you, for all of it." she promises, and she feels Thirteen smile softly against her chest. "And I know that's a little gay of me, but I was hoping that maybe, just this once, you could overlook that."

Remy actually laughs out loud, and the sound is sweet. Allison soaks up every fractal of this moment, and still... the warmth never fades.

[dot-cant-write]

A Different Chord - Sammy Lawrence x Reader (Part 6)

You horse around with one Wally Franks on your lunch break.

A/N: i have not played batdr in it’s entirety yet so please no spoilers but i pray that mr lawrence is in the game

————————————————————————

You and Wally were on lunch break. And by break, you meant that Wally was leaning against your desk in the art department while you tried to finish a sketch for the next Bendy cartoon. Oh, and Wally was definitely eating the sandwich you’d packed. Damn. There goes your peanut butter and jelly.

Wally peered at your drawing, spilling crumbs on the paper. “Whatcha drawin’?” He asked with his mouth full.

You brushed the crumbs away. “Boris the Wolf. And if you get one more crumb on this paper I’m gonna make you regret taking my sandwich, Wally.”

He laughed. You would never hurt a fly, and you both knew it.

“So anyways… What’s up with you and Sammy Lawrence?” Wally grinned mischievously.

“You have peanut butter in your teeth, Wally,” You ignored his question. If you could just get Boris’ stupid nose right…

“Oh come on! Half the studio knows something’s up by now. You’re from the Art Department, he’s from the Music Department- heck, you’re practically Romeo and Juliet!” The janitor teased.

“Nothing is going on, dumbass. Don’t spread rumors. You wouldn’t want me saying stuff about you and Allison, would you?”

“Now see, me n’ Allison are just friends, but Allison and that Tom Connor—“

“My point exactly. Quit spreading rumors,” you interrupted. You put down your pen. Drawing could wait for later.

But the truth was, after your strange encounter with Sammy Lawrence, you weren’t entirely sure how to behave around him. You still weren’t entirely sure if what Norman said was true, either. Wally picking on you certainly didn’t help.

Wally piped up again, making you lose your train of thought. “Listen, all I’m sayin’ is that I’ve never seen Sammy Lawrence look as happy as he is with you.”

Isn’t that what Norman said, too?

“And I think there’s somethin’ up with that kooky composer. He keeps askin’ me about the art department’s ink supply. He’s a strange one, (Y/N). But I support it if you’re into him.”

“Wally! For the last time, I’m not into Sammy! Besides, aren’t him and that Susie girl a thing or something?” You reddened from Wally’s teasing.

“Nah, Susie Campbell? She sure likes him, but I don’t think he sees a darn thing in her. Nothin’ but the voice of Alice Angel. And uh, you’re blushing,” Wally added with a shit-eating grin.

“That’s it you little rascal-“ You suddenly jumped from your desk and chased Wally down the hall.

“Oh shi-“ Wally turned on his heel, sprinting.

Meanwhile, Henry, who overheard the whole conversation, chuckled. “Kids.”

————————————————————————

Wally had no idea you could run so fast. He must’ve really pushed some buttons, huh? But he had no time to laugh at you while you were hot on his trail. The janitor weaved his way through employees, nearly bumping smack into Shawn Flynn, a toymaker.

“C’mon Wally, this one’s got a crooked smile now!” Shawn complained as you ran by.

Wally chanced turning around, only to yelp in surprise. You were like, right behind him! He tried to speed up, running downstairs.

“Oh no you don’t!” You raced after him.

Joey Drew Studios was a maze. You don’t even know how you ended up down by the Music Department.

Joey Drew Studios was a maze. You don’t even know how you ended up down by the music department.

You barely heard the sound of the band playing over the sound of your thumping heartbeat. You were so close to catching that son of a gun-

Bursting through the doors to the recording room, you tackled Wally- wait, why was Wally laughing at you from behind a violinist? Oh no-

You had tackled one Sammy Lawrence instead. Pushing up and off of him, you apologized profusely.

“Oh gosh, Sammy, I’m sorry-“

You glanced at Wally, who blew as raspberry in your direction. Idiot, you mouthed at him. Then you turned back to Sammy, you had stood up off the ground and was brushing off his trousers. He looked at you and shook his head.

It felt like the whole room was holding its breath. Was (Y/N) going to get chewed out? they wondered. Sammy Lawrence shocked them all.

He started laughing.

Goosebumps rose on your skin. Why does what would usually be a wonderful sound, sound so strained?

“I cannot believe your horsing around interrupted us. We have a cartoon due tonight, y’know. Not everyone has time to screw off and run through the halls.” He wheezed, seeming more than a little crazed. “Due tonight! And two more songs I need to write. How the hell does Joey expect this to fucking work?” It seemed more like the composer was talking to himself now. It scared you.

You hesitated for a moment. Should you respond? You supposed it would be best so you and Wally could get out of there. “Yes, of course, it won’t happen again, right Wally?”

“Course not! No horsin’ around from me, no sir!” Wally agreed eagerly.

And with the, the two of you hurried out the way you came.

————————————————————————

“That was scary as anything I’ve ever seen!” Wally sighed, exasperated. You nodded nervously.

“I’ve never seen him like that… I wonder if he’s just really stressed?” You wondered aloud.

“Listen, I think you should keep an eye on that Sammy Lawrence. There’s something going on, I just know it. Bet it’s gotta do with all that ink he takes. Think he injects it or somethin’? Wouldn’t that be crazy!” Wally theorized.

“Oh Wally, you always think there’s something going on. He just takes extra ink for writing sheet music, I’m sure. And he’s gotta be stressed from Mr. Drew’s deadlines.”

Wally just shook his head. Little did you know, Wally Franks knew a lot more than he let on. It probably saved his life. He wasn’t sure if he could save yours, though.