#i couldn't get this out of my head so here's a quick scribble

[yansurnummu]

boyfriend jacket...

[sarawritestories]

Take A Break

High Lord Eris Vanserra X High Lady Fem Reader

Summary: Eris comes home from business at the Spring Court. Only to hear reports from the staff that his High Lady has been working herself to the ground and not taking care of herself.

Dedicated to @milswrites and @eve175 who are constantly making sure I am taking care of me and getting proper rest. I adore you both!

Content Warning: I did not proofread this. This fluff, but Reader hasn't slept and has had some disordered eating habits (she has been working so hard

Peep the Critical Role Reference for any Critters reading this 😉

ACOTAR MASTERLIST

Eris Vanserra was glad to be home. Sure, working with Tamlin to rebuild the Court was mutually beneficial. Tamlin gets his court back, and Eris rebuilds a strong alliance with the spring. It was work worth fighting for to repair what Beron destroyed. However, he was itching to get home to his mate.

You were the apple of his eye, the moment the bond snapped on Calanami, his first as High Lord. Eris held no hesitation when it came to making you his High Lady. He watched how hard you worked at your bookshop. He knew you could handle it.

Reaching the stables, The Autumn High Lord handed his esteemed steed to the young fae male working. "Take care of sweet, Vex'ahlia, will you?" Eris gave the lad a warm smile and received an eager head nod. "Thank you."

Entering the palace, he was greeted by your two ladies-in-waiting. "My lord." The older woman bowed the younger one fidgeting, Eris picked up on the nervous behavior. "How was your trip?"

Eris bowed his head in return, "Very well, Maxine, but I am ready to see my wife. Though I suspect with the look on both of your faces, something is wrong." He tugged on the bond and found a quick tug back in return, and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips.

Maxine sighed, "Sir, she has been sleeping in the study."

"If she sleeps at all." The younger one, Nadine muttered.

Maxine ignored her and continued, "We have barely gotten her to eat. She has buried herself so deep into work that she simply forgets that warm food is right there. I'm not trying to speak out of turn."

Eris gripped the older woman's shoulder, "You are not. I appreciate you telling me. Is she still in the study."

"Yes, High Lord."

Eris laughed, "Maxine, you can call me Eris. After all, you did change my diapers."

Maxine smiled, "I'll you whatever you like if you go take care of that wife of yours."

Eris kissed her cheek, "Yes ma'am," With that, he went to go find his High Lady.

****************************************************

You ran your fingers through your hair as you scribbled notes on some parchment. These last few days, you buried yourself in paperwork. Just when you thought you were done. More stacks would form. Not wanting to fall behind and with Eris being gone, you had decided to dedicate the time to working. Only to find you were getting overwhelmed, feeling like you could never walk away, missing meals, not sleeping, you were burning out.

You turned to grab more blank parchment when a voice came from the doorway, "Now what do we have here." You turned to find Eris there, his red curls laying atop of his head and the russet colors of his eyes gleaming in the fae light."

You dropped the materials in your hands. "When did you get back?" You bounced off your seat and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I just got here." He held you close, taking in your scent. "I heard something interesting, though."

You blinked, "Oh?"

He kissed your head, "My Little Dove has not been taking care of herself." You opened your mouth to protest, but he pressed his lips to yours. "There is no fighting me on this."

You sighed, "Okay."

He winnowed you to the kitchen. It being so late the kitchen staff was gone. Eris put on an Apron and you quirked a brow. "You cook?"

Eris smiled, "I do." He tossed an apron at you. "And I am going to show you how to make my favorite me." Your cheeks warmed, remembering how you gave him a small plate of cheese to accept the bond.

You walked over to him, "Ready to Learn."

****************************************************

Cooking with Eris was fun, and you learned that the high lord had a playful side. He'd sneak up behind you to try the sauce you were making. Dipping his finger to dab it on your nose, causing you to giggle. Once everything was cooking he pulled you into his arms and you began to dance.

He pulled you into a waltz with no music. And you watched as his smile grew, his freckles popping out by the fire and the fae lights. He wasn't worried about work, or his brothers, or his responsibilities. He was beautiful.His main focus was you. He pulled you closer, his hands sliding close to the curve of your ass. He kissed you.

He tried to deepen the kiss, but the kettle screamed that the water was boiling. Pulling away, you smiled and grabbed the kettle. Once the meal was prepped, Eris made your place and insisted he feed you.

"I am fully capable of feeding myself. I am High Lady." You pouted and Eris quirked a brow instantly causing you to fix your attitude.

"Yes, you are my High Lady. You're also zeroed in on your work so much this week you barely ate. So I am taking care of you." He patted his lap, "Sit, Dove." You obeyed, and the smell of the food made your mouth water. He scooped up some of the food with the utensil and leveled it to your mouth. "Open." You opened your mouth on command, and he placed the food in your mouth, and you moaned in pleasure. The flavor exploded in your mouth.

He fed you until the meal was gone. "Why haven't you been taking care of yourself?"

You met his Russet eyes and sighed, "I didn't do it on purpose. It simply felt like everyone needed me. I just lost track of time."

He sighed and kissed your bare shoulder peaking out of your sweater. "You need breaks. They are important. You'll burn yourself out or wither away into nothing if you don't." His eyes grew serious, "I don't want to see my mate suffering."

"I'm sorry." You leaned your head against his.

"Don't apologize to me. You need to apologize to yourself. You deserve to love yourself and see yourself as worthy of breaks." He held you close. "Okay."

"Okay... I may need gentle reminders." You whispered, a full belly causing the exhaustion to take hold.

"I will give you those gentle reminders." He kissed your forehead as your eyes fluttered close. Allowing the smell of autumn leaves and cinnamon from your mate to bring you comfort.

When you fell asleep, Eris carried you in his arms. Hands wrapped around your knees and shoulders and walked you to your shared bedroom. Placing you on your side of the bed, he pulled the covers over you. "Sweet Dreams, Little Dove." He kissed your head, causing you to stir and just turn over. The High Lord left your room and headed to your study where he would finish the paperwork that was stacked on your desk.

Fin

@secret-third-thing for your Eris reading pleasure

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

[milksuu]

…the poly sett/reader/aphelios… ur insane for that one… i need a follow up🤭

-🎧

❥ prompt: Sharing is caring. And so is getting along. When it comes to you, Sett and Aphelios are working on it. ❥ content/warnings: mild suggestive themes, fluff, teasing, cuddling, possessive boyfriend behavior ❥ characters/pairings: poly!heartsteel!settphel x f!reader

"This one is so cute, Sett. Your mama really knows which ones to get you," you smiled, rubbing your face against a PoroKing plushie.

"Oh, yeah. When it comes to Ma', I got lucky and ended up with the best," Sett said with a grin, "but, let's be honest here. You're the cutest thing on my bed right now."

Aphelios narrowed his eyes against his computer screen. Clicking and typing away. He was working on a sample Yone had sent him to dabble with for their next song. He would need to ensemble some lyrics to go along with it at some point. Except...he slapped his hands against his desk, turning a sharp chin towards you and Sett.

"Uh-oh," you said, wrapping your arms around Sett's neck. "I don't think Phelly likes us being all lovey-dovey without him."

"Looks like it," Sett agreed with a snaggle tooth smile. "I mean, he's free to come on over when he's done being glued to his computer. He's been ignoring us for hours. What did he expect?"

Aphelios popped the cap off a marker, took up his notepad, and scribbled:

I'm actually working. Unlike someone I know. I wOndEr wHo?

You gasped, covering your mouth. "Phelly's extra sassy today."

"Extra? Nah, he can be worse than this. Believe it or not, he's in one of his better moods today." Sett chuckled, lowering his head and planting a kiss to your collarbone. "Probably because you're here. But it's got me thinkin'. Wonder how his mood will change when I take you all for myself. Right in front of him."

You shuddered at the tingling feeling. "Don't you think you're being a little mean?"

"The boss can't be nice all the time. Sometimes, he's gotta play the big bad wolf," he grumbled a purr, carefully nipping at your chest with his canines. You couldn't help the fluttering of your eyelids and hitched moans.

Aphelios almost snapped the marker in half. He jumped out of his desk chair. And launched a calculated attack while Sett had his arms filled with you.

"Woah! Buddy. What're you doing—?" Aphelios snatched Sett's chin, and planted the black marker against his nose and cheeks. With quick strokes, he painted the look of an actual dog on his face. Whiskers, snout and all. "Wait, isn't this permanent marker!?" Sett released you from his hold, jumping out of the bed and making a beeline for the bathroom.

Aphelios released a 'hmph' with a satisfied glean in his eyes. He sat down next to you, laced his arms around you, and plopped you both against the bed.

"Maybe Phelly's the real villain," you commented, snuggling his bed of hair. "But you two need to play nice. Okay? That was a mean thing to do to Setty. You should both apologize."

There was a twitch in his brow. He was the mean one!? He needed to apologize!? He brought you closer, placing his face between your neck and shoulder. He shook his head back and forth.

"Yes. Phelly. It's the nice thing to do," you said softly. "I know you two won't always get along. But I know you both love each other very much. And I love you both very much, too. And we can show that when we apologize after we hurt one another. Right?"

Aphelios buried himself deeper into the crook of your neck. Muffling his whines and groans into the heat of your skin. He didn't like admitting fault. He'd rather throw a written apology into the nearest burning trash can than give it to the actual person. It wasn't his fault he tended to hold onto grudges. It was always the other person's fault for not taking his personality into consideration. If they cared enough, they would know that about him. And in that case, they were making the conscious decision to be put on his shit list. He was the reasonable one. As far as he could tell.

"Please, Phelly," you asked sweetly, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

He exhaled one last breath of resistance. Somehow, you always had an unfair advantage over him. Slowly, he left the warmth of your body. That was a painful in itself. He almost cowered back into your arms. Needing a bit more strength, he slipped his mask down, and took your lips. Applying just enough pressure to make you both moan. Alright. That's all he needed. He could do this. He took up his notebook and marker.

Just as Aphelios was about to leave the room, Sett appeared from the door. His cheeks bruised red from all the scrubbing he had to do. Aphelios shifted his gaze away. A silent grip ensnared the two. Sett rubbed the guilty knot at the back of his neck. After a moment of silence, he grumbled under his breath. "Listen, Phel—"

Aphelios flipped his notebook around:

Sorry.

Sett stumbled against his words. He hadn't expected Aphelios to be the one to apologize first. Or honestly, apologize in the first place. Technically, it was Sett's own fault for egging him on the way he did. Sett's trouble was evident in the frown lines against his face.

"Yeah. I'm sorry too, Phel." Sett sighed, ears drooped. "I shouldn't have teased ya'h like that. But I couldn't help it. I just wanted you to take a break and cuddle with us. That's all. Hope you can forgive me."

Aphelios paused. The marker squeaked against the paper. He tossed his chin away, cheeks stained pink. He flipped the notepad:

I'll forgive you. On one condition. I'm middle.

Sett's ears perked-up. Grinning like a panting pup, he swooped Aphelio's into his love-crushing arms. You laughed when Sett dove onto the bed, causing you to bounce from the weight. Unraveling Aphelios like a long awaited package, you and Sett planted kisses against his flushed cheeks. The both of you then secured your legs across him, took up his upper-body, and rubbed against his figure in every way possible. Aphelios whined and groaned. He wanted to be cuddled—not suffocated. Of course, with his luck, things had to turn out this way.

an: poly!settphel x reader is my new crack. give me all the fics pls. also, maybe the next part will be nsfw. hmmmm! thank you for the follow req. anon!

[sammy-is-not-smiley]

Eyes Up Here

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie notices you struggle to look him in the eyes... and works to fix that.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Nothin much, just a couple kisses and a little dom energy sprinkled through it. Maybe a little bit of condescending tones. Lots of pet names and no use of (y/n).

A/N: I need more Eddie requests yo lol

Tiny taglist: @zestychili

"Babe, am I ugly?"

The question made you violently scoff as you scribbled notes on your grocery list. You didn't bother to look up, you could hear the slight playfulness in Eddie's voice. Yet, you weren't quite sure what he was getting at. "Of course not! Why the hell would you think that?"

He leaned forward to his elbows on the kitchen table next to you. "'Cause you act like you don't want to look at me half the time."

Your pen hovered over the paper for a moment before you stole a quick two second glance at him.

Yep, his face was smug as ever. He was picking on you.

You looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You literally just did it," He badgered. "Come on, I don't bite."

"Much," You replied.

He barked a laugh. "Okay, I promise not to bite at all if you just look at me for… I don't know, thirty seconds."

"Ed's, come on, I'm busy." You could feel an anxious knot tightening in your gut.

"Why won't you do it?"

You closed your eyes. "I can't. You know I get nervous."

"I know, I know, and I really love that about you," He pulled his chair up close to yours and gently rested his warm hand on your thigh. "But I also love your cute little face and pretty eyes looking at me. You don't do it often enough."

You sighed, feeling the tug of war in your brain. His eyes were pretty too, and you always thought the shape of his nose was adorable. You wanted to stare at him more, you really did. But to have him staring right back at you? That made you feel the most vulnerable. It was intimidating, really.

Eddie could sense your quiet discomfort. He hooked his hand under your knee and pulled your leg to drape over his. "The eyes are the very windows to the soul," He drawled in a deeper tone as if he were DMing, making you smile. He leaned in close. "And, m'lady, your eyes have everything that my own soul thirsts for."

You couldn't help but giggle, shaking your head at his antics. He always tried flattery just to see you get flustered.

"Come on," He purred with a smile, putting a hand to your opposing cheek. "Can you be good and look at me, sweetheart?"

The war in your mind froze, like Eddie had taken the remote and pushed pause on your thoughts.

Be good.

You wanted that. You really wanted to make him proud.

Slowly, you let your head be turned by the pressure of Eddie's fingers on your cheek. However, even when facing right at him, you simply stared sheepishly down at his chest biting on your lip.

"Good job," He hummed, his thumb stroking your cheek slowly. "Just a little more, pretty girl. You're so close, just look up at me."

You started to, getting to his neck, his chin… then hesitated. Your own neck was going tense, joints freezing up without your consent. Letting out a breath of defeat, you leaned forward and collapsed into his neck with a groan.

"Oh nooo," Eddie trilled, putting his hand to the back of your head. "Princess, you were so close! Am I really that scary?"

You shook your head, nose nuzzling into the smell of his skin and cologne.

"Can we try again? Just one more time?" He asked, leaning his head down to your ear. "I know you can do it."

"Do I have to?"

"I mean… I suppose not," He droned, "But if you're a good girl, you'll get a reward."

Your posture stiffened slightly at the offer, knowing what the reward would be, then you slowly pulled yourself upright again. You inhaled deeply, really trying to hype yourself up.

"Don't hurt yourself now."

"Shut up!" You laughed hitting him in the chest you were still staring at. "I'm really trying here."

He tilted his head. "Want me to help?"

"How?" You asked, looking downward at your fidgeting hands.

"Easy. All I gotta do is…." He slipped a finger under your chin, tilting your head up slowly to angle right at him.

Then pursed your lips and snapped your eyes shut.

"Aww, you're just being difficult now, aren't you?" He condescended, "Don't want to be a good girl for me? Huh? Don't you want me to reward you?"

For some reason, that was the kicker. A spark of defiance forced your eyes open at a moment's notice. Eddie's dark irises held tiny reflections of yourself in them as well as a little sparkle that was painfully and wholeheartedly him.

"There you go!" His expression lit up with joy as he sandwiched your head in his hands. He held on as if he was trying to keep your head from falling off. "That was all you needed, huh? A little positive reinforcement…. Oh, you're doing such a good job looking at me. God, I love your eyes."

"Shush or I'm not going to be able to hold it," You giggled, butterflies relentlessly tickling your stomach.

He shook his head as he grinned. "No, no, I'm going to make you hold it. This is too good…. Like looking at the stars themselves."

You caught yourself breaking eye contact again, but this time to look down at his soft plush lips.

"Ah, ah," Eddie tapped the side of your head with his finger. "Eyes back up here."

Although begrudgingly, you obeyed. "Eddie…"

He smirked. "You'll get your reward, just give me a bit longer. I haven't memorized the color of your eyes just yet."

After not even ten more seconds of staring into his dark irises, you caved with another groan. This one more out of impatience than discomfort. Falling into his neck again you whined and kicked your foot in frustration.

His chest rumbled with a laugh. Once again, his hand was on the back of your head. "Oh I know, I know, sunshine, I was pushing it. You did so good. Here, come here—" He gently grabbed a hold of your jaw, turning it upwards to meet your lips in a kiss. It was clear he was giving you a 'thank you'. Sexy was one way to put it, but the energy of it was softer than sex. You found as well that he lingered in it much longer than usual, and that was met with no complaint from you. You simply closed your eyes and returned the same loving energy.

You both let out satisfied breaths over each other before the spell had finally been broken, Eddie pulling away first with a grin on his face.

"You alright there, babes?"

Your eyes remained closed, the feeling of his lips on yours like that leaving you in a daze. His warmth always sent your insides spinning.

"Again," You whispered, putting your hand up to his head to pull him in.

He leaned downward once more, only to collide his forehead with yours instead of your lips on his. "Nope, those kisses aren't free. You gotta look at me to get them."

Still in a lovestruck fog, you lazily opened your eyes. You were obviously looking into his face, but being so close made his features an absolute blur. It was clear, though, his eyes were open, mere inches from yours.

"Good girl," He mumbled before leaning in to gift another kiss.

[cocteaucherry]

Gojo giving his f!partner his blindfold because she has a migraine 🥺

stop this is so cute 😭 I love it sm <33

these past weeks have been stressful for you, sure you weren't on the frontlines exorcizing curses but filing the paperwork that had come with eliminating them seemed to be your breaking point, Autumn; curses had been popping up left and right, and with that meant files of reports needed to be filed by the end of the week. Your eyebrows seemingly stuck in a permanent furrow as your pen scribbled into the dotted lines. When it was time to clock out, your boyfriend Satoru always made an appearance at your doorway at exactly 6:04, “Heyyyy!” his voice broke you out of your trance. “Hey,” you mumbled tiredly rubbing your eyes, you had the lights in your office dimmed due to the recurring pain that would strike behind your eyes.

“You okay? Kinda dark in here,” he said, switching the lights on which made you wince loudly, “ Oh God turn them off!” you exclaimed quite loudly as Satoru made quick work of switching them off immediately making his way over to you, “Hey, you okay?” he spoke softly, running a hand over your back. You let out a tired laugh as you stared up at him with tired eyes, “honestly no.” you said rubbing your fingers over your temples, even moving your eyes too much to set the pain off.

Even though Satoru Gojo seemed like an absolute ass he learned rather quickly to observe people, he observed the growing worry in your voice as the days passed on, the tiredness in your eyes, and the way your eyes would usually avoid bright lights. “Overdoing it huh?” he asked, continuing to massage your back.

“No choice if I wanna get these papers filed by the end of the week.. Everything is too much.. The writing, the lights..” you mumbled incoherently as Gojo continued to listen.

“y/n hold your head up for a minute.”

“Huh?” you asked, getting pulled from your trainwreck of thoughts, he repeated himself, his hands pulling as his blindfold, a peak of his snow-dusted lashes and eyebrows making an appearance, you nodded, sighing with an okay as you held your head up. He stepped behind and part of you wondered what he was planning.

All of a sudden you felt the draping of a soft cloth grace the bridge of your nose and then your sensitive eyes, he made a loose but secure knot. “How’s that feel?” he asked and by the tone of his voice you knew he was smiling, you couldn't help the smile that crept on your face as you responded. “Better.” Gojo grinned, placing a kiss on your forehead as he stepped back, “Great! Now m’lady shall we get home? I would love to enjoy the company of my girlfriend and her amazing cookies.”

You let out a giggle as you stood up, “Of course Satoru-” you were cut off as your hip hit the side of the desk which resulted in you letting out a groan, “Careful, kinda hard to see.” he said grabbing your hand gently, “Guess you'll just have to hold onto me for the rest of the night.” he feigned playfully with an overdramatic pouty face.

“I guess I will Satoru.” You hummed gripping his hand tightly as he led you out of your office.

~ʚ ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ɞ~

[user2772636]

Puppy Love

A pissed golden boy

《♡》《♡》《♡》

《♡》《♡》《♡》

When the school's golden boy finds a list about a few girls in his class (which include you), all hell breaks loose. You decide you think he looks adorable mad.

》》》

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warnings: screaming match, boys being boys, swearing, loads amount of fluff

Modern-ish!AU (They're still in highschool tho)

》》》

》》》

A list. That's where it all started. One list. And your name. It started there, too.

You might be wondering what started. Here's how it goes.

The year was 2001. Voltaire High was filled with students roaming around the corridors talking about their day, the exams coming up, summer, and more. You were one of the students. Your friends were, too.

"Ugh, I can't wait for summer to start. I need to get out of this sweat polluted hell hole called school." Simone gags as you all walk past some boys who just got out of gym class. You and Michèle laugh.

"I can't wait for summer to start because-"

"Your boyfriend is finally all yours." You and Simone finish Michèle's sentence in a mocking tone, burting out after a few seconds. You see Michèle roll her eyes with a smile.

"Well, atleast I have a boyfriend for this summer. What do you guys have?" She shrugs, and Simone is quick to butt in.

"Well, I, for one, have your brother." Michèle shoves Simone away, scoffing in surprise.

"Be glad I was calm about it. I was ready to smash your heads together when I found out." They tease and laugh around. They both turn to look at you.

"That leaves you, Y/N." A smile starts forming on their faces again. "Any luck with the golden boy?"

Joseph Descamps. Also known as Voltaire High's "Golden Boy". He was tall, athletic, smart, basically perfect, hence the nickname.

Joseph walks down the stairwell with his friends, laughing like dogs, so loud the whole school could hear. But who cares?

He was on his way to the courtyard when he overhears something. Paper crumpling and getting passed around. Whispers and such. He pays no mind to it, thinking they were just talking about the tests.

It was break time, so they did whatever after.

》》》

You lean against your hand in class, trying not to fall asleep right then and there. It was so boring you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer.

Joseph was glancing towards you, chuckling at how adorable you were dropping your head and catching it in a loop. He licks his lips, trying to bring his focus back on the discussion, but his eyes keep lingering towards you again and again.

Suddenly, a crumpled piece of paper flies in the air. It lands right on his desk, and he immediately gets it in his hands. Some of his classmates roam around him as he unfolds it, revealing ink scribbled down.

On top, it read "VOLTAIR HIGH BEAUTIES RANKED." There were ten rankings. He read through them. In first place was Annick, their classmate who currently wasn't in this class. The next few were some of the girls from other grades. But on ninth is what shocked him.

Your name was written. There was a sidenote that said, "already targeted; stay away or try." What does that even mean? Do you have a boyfriend he doesn't know about?

His thoughts begun to roam, and then the bell rings. Students rush out the door, but he's quicker. He rushes to the stairwell, hanging off before screaming.

"Hey!" The people walking stop, looking up at him. He begins to get nervous, voice shivering, but he tries to toughen up. He notices your eyes on him, and he thinks maybe he can't do this. But he does.

"Why the fuck is there a list of the girls from here? Are they some kind of joke to you? Go look at yourselves before thinking about what other people look like!" He exclaims, throwing both his arms up in frustration.

"And why is Y/N on ninth? Ninth? Are you all serious? She's supposed to be in first, in my opinion!" He doesn't even realise he said that till everyones eyes turned to you. But you kept your eyes on him. Even if he was almost a hundred feet away, the way you looked at him right then made his knees weak and throat as dry as sahara.

Then, when he least expected it, almost everyone in the stairwell said, "We know!"

He freezes up, looking around. They're all just staring at him, dead pan. One of his friends, Dupin, walks up to him.

"Just fucking talk to her already. Go." Dupin pushes Joseph to the actual staircase. Joseph gulps, adjusting his shirt. The whole time, everyone stares. He keeps his eyes on the ground, scared he'll trip and fall and embarass himself. Especially infront of you.

When he makes it to you, he wipes his face. He clears his throat, but before he speaks, he looks around again.

"What are you looking at? Go home!" Everyone statts wlaking again, and he hears you laugh quietly. His cheeks flush.

You nod to Simone and Michèle, indicating them to go and that you'll tell them everything later. You turn back to Joseph.

"Hi." You say, smiling up at him. You fidget with the coat inbetween your arms.

"Hi." He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You stay quiet for a bit before you cut the silence.

"First place huh? You really think so?" You ask him, tilting your head to meet his eyes.

His head shoots up, looking at you with an even redder face than before.

"Yeah... I mean, who wouldn't think that?" He flashes his teeth, and he's so adorably awkward compared to his façade when he needs to be the golden boy.

"Well, everyone did. Everyone but you." You look down at the floor, trying to keep your smile smaller to avoid showing him how giddy you are.

"Yeah, everyone but me." The awkward silences make you cringe, but you're too happy about this to cast him down.

The next sentence included both of you speaking at the same time. You two laughed it off, and from then, he asked you out. That's when it really started. Earlier was the beginning. But this, now, was the start. There's a difference, okay?

You guess you do have a boy this summer. And he's as bright as the sun. He's the golden boy.

》》》

Guess what? It's 5,30 am here, and i finished this in 30 mins (im losing my mind) ANWWW i hope this is good enough sorry for taking so long w this

[niphredil-14]

Imagine 2012 Donnie with a partner who just doesn’t get math at all, not even science and it’s just him tutoring them and sleeping over at their place

I was gonna write a study date for this, but then I got my results for the HiSET math test and found out that I am, in fact, getting my high school equivalency, so I'm gonna write Don celebrating that instead. Hope you don't mind lol

Test Kisses

Words: 850

The first four tests had been a breeze, As and high Bs across the board. But then, there was math, and in the fortnight leading up to the test, Don had gone over to her house almost every night, the two of them pulling all-nighters every other, until the night before the test. Don had indeed gone over that night, but insisted that studies had shown that cramming the night before a big test would actually be detrimental. He had only allowed her to read through her notes for half an hour before helping her through her bedtime routine, and cuddling up next to her, until she fell asleep. Upon awakening, the sun was shining through the fluttering blinds of her open window, and she found a note written in Donnie's messy handwriting on her bedside table.

Sorry I couldn't stay, but you know I can't risk being seen, and Leo would've nagged my shell off. I wish you lots of luck on your test today, though I know you won't need it. You've worked so hard, and have been tutored by the smartest turtle around, so I know that you can do this!! You're a whole lot smarter than you give yourself credit for! ^w^

Love, Donatello <3

Actually taking the test was super stressful, and she finished with only two minutes remaining. It had taken forever for the test results to come. All of the other test results had been posted exactly a week after she took the test, but this was not the case for math. She had to call the testing company three times over the course of a week before the finally opened an investigation, and throughout the whole process, she had whined and complained endlessly to Donnie. After what felt like an eternity, she was finally notified that the results were posted. She didn't hesitate to grab her laptop and sprint out of her apartment, racing to the nearest sewer cap. Don had installed a special button in the alleyway, so that she could get to the lair whenever she wanted without having to struggle to move the hubcap. Practically sliding down the ladder with practiced ease, she hit the ground hard and began sprinting towards the lair. Upon entering the lair's living room, she skidded to a halt, and all but shouted at Leo.

"Where's Don?!" The words escaped her as if being thrown from her throat in all one breath, and the words,

"In the lab?" had barely left Leo's lips before she had taken off at full speed once more. She ran into the lab, and Don barely had time to spin around in his chair to face her before she was in the air, jumping towards him. He scrambled to catch her, and was almost unsuccessful. After regaining his stability, he looked at her with confusion rampant in his eyes. Before being able to ask her what had brought her so frantically to his lab, she shoved her laptop into his hands, and screeched.

"The results are up!!" She jumped from his lap and began pacing, anxiety written across all of her features and scribbled throughout all of her movements, from the longest of her strides, to the smallest twitch of her muscles.

"That's great!" Donnie replied. "Did you pass?" She whipped her head around to him, looking at him as if he had grown a second head.

"I don't know!"

"You haven't checked yet?" He asked.

"No! I came straight here. I'm too nervous!" She exclaimed, her pacing gaining speed. "Will you read them to me?" He gave her a soft, wide smile, and agreed, lifting the top of her laptop open and entering her email and password to the test company's website. Clicking to the right tab, he pulled up the score report, with her anxious, quick steps serving as a background beat.

"Oh, Sweetie." He said, unreadable emotion in his voice. She stopped in her track and turned to him.

"What?! What is it?!" Don smiled wide at her.

"18/20. You passed! You got 70% on Numbers and Operations on Numbers, 77% on Algebra, 50% on probability, statistics, and data analysis, and 25% on measurements and geometry. You're graduating!" She squealed, jumping up and down, before charging at Donnie and tackling him in a hug, sending them both to the ground that time. She lifted just far enough away from him to gaze into his eyes, overjoyed, before beginning to cover every inch of his face in kisses.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!" She exclaimed. "I love you so much! I never could have done this without you!" He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing her back for a moment, still embracing her.

"Hey, as happy as I am that I was helpful to you, I need you to know that it was you and your hard work that did this, not me. You did this, you earned this, and I am so proud of you, you deserve this." He said, seriously, and then smiled, pressing his lips to hers in a deep, loving kiss.

[delicateflowerss]

Don't Worry, Darling: Two

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, eventual NON-CON, dark!Rafe, oral (female receiving), mentions of murder, mention of birth control, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist

When you dazedly open your eyes, you expect to see your husband lying right next to you. A lazy morning kiss being your next assumption.

But you find his side of the bed empty, just a trace of his warmth lingers. You sit up, your brain still foggy with sleep, and the worry he didn’t make it home last night is fleeting.

But he never gets up before you do.

You’re still tying your robe around yourself when you find him in the kitchen. He doesn’t notice you walking in, perched at the island in the center of the room, scrolling through his phone. The smell of coffee wafts through the air and you realize he’s already made a batch. Another thing he never does.

“Good morning,” you greet, finally alerting him to your presence.

Slowly, he looks up, giving you an aloof good morning, then goes right back to his phone.

You can’t help the slight grimace on your face as you pour a cup of coffee.

“You’re up early,” you remark, trying to get him to say anything else to you.

“Yeah.” His eyes are still on his screen.

“What time did you get home last night?” You ask, sipping the sweltering drink.

He finally sets his phone down, giving you his full attention.

“Not too late. Maybe Midnight. You were already asleep,” he shrugs, speaking nonchalantly.

You nod, a moment of silence settling between the two of you.

It’s interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

You make eye contact with him, and for a split second, you can see the unadulterated fear in his blue eyes.

Before you can even set your mug down, Rafe is out of his stool, rushing to the front door.

By the time you catch up to him, you’re shocked to find the sheriff on your doorstep.

“We’ll only take a few minutes of your time,” you hear Shoupe say, and Rafe has no choice but to let him inside.

He’s not alone, a female officer trailing behind him.

Your brow furrows, yet you swallow down your nervousness, giving a polite smile to your guests.

“Please sit down,” you lead them to the living room, gesturing to the sofa. “Can I get you anything?”

Shoupe shakes his head, “no, but thank you. We’ll be quick.”

You sit across from the officers, next to an unusually quiet Rafe.

“What is this about?” You ask them, concern lacing your tone.

Shoupe clears his throat, giving a slight glance to the woman next to him. She has a notepad out, ready to write down anything of interest.

“Well,” he begins. “Chase Anderson didn’t come home last night, and his wife is pretty torn up about it. Called it in first thing this morning.”

“Oh my God,” you mutter, a gasp still in your throat. “Do you think something happened to him?”

“We’re not sure. That’s why we’re here. His wife said he was working late last night. We think you might’ve been one of the last people to see him, Mr. Cameron,” he explains, staring at Rafe.

You shift, glancing at your husband who hasn’t said a word or moved a muscle since he sat down.

“Can you tell us anything about your interaction with him last night? Anything unusual?”

Rafe juts his lips out, tapping his fingers on his knee, like he’s working hard to think about it.

“I barely saw him last night,” he finally answers. “We were both in the office but, he left before me.”

Shoupe nods, listening intently as the officer next to him furiously scribbles down Rafe’s words.

“Did he say anything to you? Was he acting differently?” Shoupe asks, one question after the other.

“I don’t think so.” His face twists up like he’s still trying to remember. “He might’ve said bye as he was leaving. But like I said, I barely saw him.”

The two officers share a look before Shoupe sighs, abruptly standing up. You and Rafe are quick to join him.

You lead them back to the front door, Rafe swinging it open for them.

“Thank you very much for your time,” the sheriff says, eyes flitting between the two of you.

“I hope everything’s alright,” Rafe passively tells him.

“Yeah, hopefully you got what you needed,” you add, sounding more genuine than your husband.

Shoupe leans in a little closer, voice lowering. “Between you and me, I think he skipped town. Probably having an affair.”

You raise your eyebrows, sharing a look with Rafe before you bid them goodbye.

Once the door is closed, you don’t hide the worry on your face. You notice how Rafe’s shoulders look less tense, like he finally let out the breath he was holding.

“That was weird. Do you think he’s okay?” You ask.

“You heard him, he probably skipped town.”

“But an affair?” You sound unconvinced. “We’ve been to Chase and Lauren’s tons of times. They’re not unhappy.”

He sighs, almost like he’s annoyed. “You don’t know what’s going on behind closed doors.”

“Yeah, but.” He walks away in the middle of your sentence, so you follow him to the kitchen, continuing, “it’s just hard to think that’s what could be happening.”

Rafe doesn’t respond. Instead, he finally takes a sip of his coffee, still full to the brim.

“Are you sure nothing happened last night? I just can’t help but think…” You find it hard to finish your sentence.

“Babe, I barely saw him,” he reiterates before setting down his cup, grabbing his wallet and keys instead. His phone is already stuffed away in his front pocket. “I gotta get to work.”

You’re not paying attention to him, still thinking about the strange circumstances.

He gazes at you, sighing. “Y/N, it’s okay.” You finally meet his eyes, finding a gentleness there. “I’ll see you later, alright?”

He gives you a quick kiss before walking past you.

“You don’t want breakfast?” You call out to him, suddenly remembering.

But he’s already gone.

You watch him drive away, through the window above the sink. A bit late for the first kiss of the day, you realize.

It’s been days and still no word about Chase. No one has seen any sign of him, and the police seem to be in a deadlock.

Rafe hasn’t mentioned him since the police came by. You have to be the one to ask him if he’s heard anything new. His answer is always no, quick to move to the next subject.

You wonder if he’s more upset about it than he looks. It’s easier for Rafe to brush things under the rug, instead of actually talking about it.

All you can do is hope they find him sooner than later. Maybe an affair would be best-case scenario at this point.

You stare at the words in front of you. Your client needs these edits done by the end of the week, but it’s been hard for you to sit down and pull all your focus on work.

The sound of the side gate closing disrupts your thoughts. You peek outside the window of your office, noticing a certain blond tending to the pool.

Maybe it’s time for a break anyway.

“Hi, JJ,” you say, your hand shielding your eyes from the blistering sun.

He jumps, turning around to face you with a hand on his chest, relief washing over him when he sees you.

“You scared the crap out of me,” he practically shouts.

You try to refrain from smiling, but you do a poor job.

“How are you doing today?”

“Fine. Just finishing up here,” he replies.

“Why don’t you come inside? I can get you something to drink,” you suggest.

“Uh.” He looks ready to dismiss your offer, but he thinks about it for a moment. “I’m good, but thanks.”

“Oh, come on. When was your last break? I’m sure you’ve been going from one house to another all day.”

It’s a kind offer, but there’s also a hint of worry in your voice, helping to coax him.

He mulls it over. “Rafe’s not home?”

You shake your head, a friendly smile tracing your lips.

He sighs, his smile matching yours, and you’ve convinced him once again.

“So, what do you do all day?” He asks, looking around your kitchen.

He takes in the expensive appliances and the marble countertop of the kitchen island. He realizes he doesn’t exactly fit in, sticking out like a sore thumb with his well-worn work clothes.

“I do have a job,” you chuckle, handing him a glass of lemonade.

He raises his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on, while gulping down the ice-cold drink.

“I’m a book editor. And when I’m not doing that, I usually have something to do around here.” Your eyes scan the squeaky-clean kitchen.

He sets his glass down before asking, “why?”

“Why what?”

“Why have a job? Doesn’t Rafe have more than enough money for the both of you?” He doesn’t hide the disgust in his voice, his face almost in a sneer.

“It’s not about the money,” you explain. “I want to have something for myself. Something I can be proud of.”

“That must be nice. Working, not because you have to.”

You look down, unsure of how to respond. He notices, deciding to change the subject.

“You don’t really seem like Rafe’s type,” JJ comments.

You move your gaze back to him, a question on your lips.

“What does that mean?”

“I mean,” he stops himself before he says something he’ll regret, thinking it through. “I mean, you just don’t seem like some helpless, little Kook who wants to be Rafe Cameron’s perfect housewife.”

All you can do is laugh and he internally breathes a sigh of relief that he didn’t offend you.

“I think you have this idea of Rafe, and that’s fine, but it’s not who he actually is.”

“Please enlighten me, who is Rafe? Cause I guess I’ve never really had a chance to sit down and get to know the guy.” He smirks, the sarcasm doing little to cover up the bitterness in his tone.

You part your lips, ready to say something, but you stop.

“He’s um…” You end up saying, but you trail off, losing your train of thought. “He’s just not as bad as you think. He really has changed.”

The silence between the two of you is deafening. All JJ can do is give a tight-lipped smile, almost like he pities you.

“I should get going. Got other houses to get to.”

You nod, watching him get up.

“Thanks for the lemonade.” He points to his empty glass.

You smile, following him to the front door.

“See you next week,” you call out, your smile disappearing once you’re out of his view.

“So, I told him, there’s no way you’re going to be ready for court on Monday. But my opinion doesn’t really matter,” Topper finishes, taking a sip from his beer.

“Still. It must be so interesting working for a lawyer. I mean, the things you must hear,” Audrey says with a smile.

“Nothing I can tell you.” He laughs, everyone else joining in.

Audrey jokingly pouts before bursting into a laugh.

You sip your wine, still smiling. You and Rafe decided to meet some friends for dinner at the Club. You appreciate how well your friends and Rafe’s friends get along, something that transpired long before your marriage. You all try to get together as much as you can, and who knows? Maybe they’re closer than you realize, you wonder, glancing between Topper and Audrey.

“So, Rafe,” Caroline shifts the conversation. “I heard about Chase. Do you think everything’s okay?”

Suddenly, the weight of Rafe’s arm around your shoulders feels extremely heavy.

“I’m sure he just had to get away for a while,” he answers. He bites his bottom lip before continuing, “maybe the pressure got to him.”

“The pressure?” Caroline asks.

“Yeah, with work and everything. You know, he was working tons before he disappeared. Maybe that’s got something to do with it,” he speculates.

You look to Rafe, realizing he hasn’t said any of that to the police. Your eyes narrow, and you hope no one notices.

“It’s crazy. You think you know someone,” Cassie adds, drinking her cocktail.

“Let’s hope he’s alright,” Kelce remarks, earning nods.

Any semblance of hope about the situation is short lived, because not long after he says that a hush falls over the Island Club.

The bartender scrambles for the remote, turning up the TV mounted to the wall.

“Oh, shit,” Topper mutters, staring at the TV.

Rafe’s arm falls from you as he shifts in his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

“The Kildare County Police Department has found evidence ruling Chase Anderson’s disappearance, a homicide,” the news anchor reports.

There’s a collective gasp, and you move your hand to your mouth, covering yours.

“The County Sheriff will be giving a press conference shortly. If anyone has any information…”

You drown her out, realizing that someone you know has been murdered.

It’s almost quiet enough to hear the waves crashing onto the sand, but the beauty of it falls on deaf ears.

Dinner wrapped up quickly after that, no one knowing what to say, faces crumpled from the idea of death.

The drive home is quiet. Rafe keeps his eyes on the road, his knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel.

You don’t exactly notice, too preoccupied with the fact a murder happened on the island you have always felt safe on.

Neither of you have said a word to each other by the time you get home, turning on lights and setting your things down in the kitchen.

“I just can’t believe it.” You’re the first one to break the silence.

You’re not sure if he’s listening. He seems out of it, probably processing the news also.

“We didn’t see him that long ago. Now he’s… gone.” Your voice falls to a whisper, the meaning of the word hitting you.

Your husband doesn’t say anything, leaning against the kitchen island while you spit out your stream of consciousness.

“I can’t imagine what Lauren must be feeling right now.”

His eyes move to the floor, like he can’t look at you.

“I mean, murdered, Rafe.” You stare at him, and finally you get the comfort of his gaze, but it doesn’t help. Your voice is still unsteady, cracking a little. “I just can’t help but think. What if… What if it was you?”

You practically fall apart, the tears welling up in your eyes, now wanting to escape. He doesn’t waste a moment in walking over to you and wrapping his big arms around you.

“No, no” he mumbles.

Your eyelids flutter as you rest your head against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat, and you start to feel better.

He holds you there and you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring into your hair, “we’re okay. You don’t have to worry, baby.”

You move a little to look up at him, finding the soothing face of the man you love, strands of dirty blond hair curtaining concerned blue eyes.

“It’s just…” You pause, thinking. “This all made me think and, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You bring your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. As you lean in for a kiss, he meets you halfway, capturing your lips passionately.

“You won’t ever have to worry about that,” he sighs as you two break away from each other.

You barely give him a second to breathe, kissing him deeply again, your arms encircling his neck.

He licks inside your mouth before turning you around, pushing you into the kitchen island, his body pressed against yours.

You two continue like that until he helps you sit atop it, hooking your legs around his hips. He moves his lips to your neck, softly biting and sucking. His breath feels scorching hot on your skin.

A slight moan falls from you as you start to move your hips against him, needing friction on your clothed core.

“You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?” He breathes out. “Wait until I touch you, like a good girl.”

You whine as his fingers graze your bare thighs, inching closer to where you ache for him.

“Rafe, please.”

A smirk graces his features as he hears you begging.

He gently rubs you through your underwear before pulling them down, leaving you exposed under your sundress.

You gasp when he bends down, latching his lips onto your swollen bud.

You throw your head back as he licks around your hole, then back to your clit, sucking lightly.

“Rafe,” you cry out, the pleasure growing quickly in the pit of your stomach.

He moves his hand up your body while his mouth is on your cunt. His other hand is on your hip, keeping you pinned, no way for you to involuntarily close your legs.

The hand roaming your body, squeezes your breast, massaging you through your dress.

It all becomes too much, and something snaps inside you as you come on his tongue.

When you start to come down, he steps back, taking in your panting figure. He licks his lips, slick with your arousal before kissing you again, tasting your own pleasure.

He’s quick to begin undoing his pants. You shift, logic coming back to your clouded mind.

“You think I’m done with you?”

“Wait, Rafe,” you stop him, and he stills his hand. “We need to be careful right now. My doctor won’t let me start my new birth control until I’m completely off my old one,” you say, still out of breath.

“You don’t need that stuff,” he dismisses, going in to kiss you again.

“Rafe,” you repeat, putting a hand on his chest, giving him a sharp look.

After a moment, he backs down, eyes softening.

“I’ll be extra careful, alright,” he concedes, finally kissing you.

You melt into him, trusting him. He pulls your hips off the marble, flipping you around, bending you over.

He places a kiss on the back of your neck as he lines himself up to you, easily pushing inside.

You hear him groan as your lips part, feeling the familiar stretch.

He waits until he’s all the way inside you before starting a rough pace, his hips slapping against you.

You close your eyes, falling into the waves of pleasure, forgetting the worries of the day. Your only focus is your husband.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @kkmstblog @whorefordrew @gillybear17 @alinaharlow

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist for this series!

[elithe31st]

SO WORTH IT

duncan tdi x male reader

'' but i prefer the ease, of rolling up my sleeves ''

The floor tasted like dirt.

You don't know how it happened.

You got up, swiping the dirt off your clothes. You looked at him angrily, getting into another fight stance.

“What’s the matter? Recharging your energy or something, princess?” Duncan teased, that famous smirk of his coming back on his face to haunt you. He used that god-awful nickname, the one you hate. You wiped the blood from your nose. You breathed heavily. People were watching, recording, chanting. You couldn't pussy out now. You charged, dodging a swing before kicking him in the back onto the ground.

"Had enough, princess?" You teased back, looking down at him. The blood from your nose was dripping onto his clothes.

He turned around and spat in your face.

The crowd gasped. You got down and straddled him before clocking him in the face. Over and over. Until someone got a teacher. And then you got dragged off of him. Dragged into the principal's office, sat next to a beat up Duncan, with your parents on the line. It would be pinned on him. It had to be. There was evidence.

You both got in trouble. Now here you are, Duncan pissing you off more in detention.

"Come on, sweetheart. Not even a 'sorry'? An apology? You have to write one of those, you know." He whispered on, that smirk still on his face.

"Zip it, softie. I'll punch your lights out again." You whispered back, scribbling down notes you were supposed to write for the last class. Duncan rolled his eyes, scooting closer to you. He watched you work. He was bored out of his mind.

"What are you doing?" You whispered to him.

"Watching you work, beautiful." He winked and you just mumbled something, continuing to work. Just like he said, he watched. His arm slid around your waist and he whispered in your ear.

"When this is over," He started. "wanna make out?"

You gasped, alerting the teacher. Duncan moved away as fast as possible.

"Everything alright, Mr. (Last Name)?" The teacher said. You responded with a quick nod.

2 long hours passed before you could leave. And when you did, Duncan caught up with you.

"Wanna take me on the offer? I'm a great kisser, y'know." He said, crossing his arms.

"Right. I'm better than you at kissing, I'm sure of it." You responded, looking over at Duncan. He loved that competitiveness in your eyes.

...

"You so wanna fuck me." He tsked, shaking his head.

And then you pushed him against a wall, kissing him. Hard. He kissed back over the seconds of shock, gripping at your backpack straps eagerly. His eyes were closed when you pulled away, your hands gripping the collar of his shirt.

"Get- get in the fucking bathrooms. Right. Now."

You got home late. And then had to sit through several parent lectures. And screaming.

But it was worth it.

So worth it.

[asteroidzzzn]

stargirl | part 2

pairing: rockstar!ellie x bartender!reader

warnings: cursing, smoking, eventual sexual themes, ellies kinda an asshole, reader is delulu (are u sensing a pattern here)

songs in this chapter: r u mine? - arctic monkeys

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i love dina in this

summary: the fireflies is a new band consisting of three people. after being cheated out by their former bassist, they needed to find a replacement, and quick. who better than you, the cute bartender that hasn't touched an instrument in years?

you stepped off the train, glancing down at your phone and back up at the sketchy looking building in front of you. the address dina sent you checked out, meaning you were in the right place. graffiti covered every surface you saw as you walked around searching for the entrance.

you were startled when a cardboard box fell and something scurried out. you sighed. it was just a stray cat.

you tried a metal door underneath a wobbly staircase, but it wouldn't budge. jesse told you they would leave the door unlocked, so this wasn't the one. you went around the back and heard a faint noise coming from a propped-open door.

you entered the hallway and quickly found the group. it was a small room with a single green couch, soundproofed walls, and a coffee table nearly spilling over with bottles, books, and food.

dina and jesse greeted you while you navigated around the wires scattered around the floor. ellie was on the couch, taking up the whole thing, of course, scribbling in the journal she held.

"sorry i didn't bring anything... i had to sell all my old instruments a while ago," you spoke softly, embarrassed about your financial situation. jesse had already picked up a beautiful white guitar with brown accents and held it out to you.

"don't stress it, you can use ellie's."

you gaped at the guitar, holding it with extreme care.

"thanks, ellie," you shifted to face her and gave a small smile. she glanced up at you, and something about her expression said this was the first time she noticed you were here.

"what did i do...?" she noticed her guitar in your arms. "oh, yeah."

you pursed your lips and nodded. you leaned towards dina to whisper.

"so, does she write all the songs? seems pretty focused."

she guided you to sit down on the floor and gestured jesse to join you. she settled in, and you noticed disappointment flash on her face. "we all pitch into the writing, but she's been more intent about doing it herself recently," dina lowered her voice. "she's also not as much of a dick usually, but she just went through a messy breakup. we're trying to love her through it, but she got so closed off."

you felt a twinge of guilt at the new information. you mumbled, "yeah, i get that."

dina continued, "i guess she thinks writing about her ex is good songs material, so she insists she writes alone because she's the only one that," she uses air quotes, "really understands."

jesse nodded in agreement, shoving some cheetos in his mouth. "i've been saying, dude, she's jealous we've never broken up," he mumbled through a full mouth, tilting his head to dina.

your eyebrows lifted. dina and jesse seemed like an unlikely couple, but they also complimented each other very well. it was sweet that they shared a passion for music, and were able to be in the same band together.

dina groaned, "it's like she's back in her angsty teen era."

"yeah, she was insufferable enough during high school," jesse added on. "see, watch this," he turned his body to face ellie.

"how's it going? you got a title yet, or do you need a little help there?" mockery dripped off jesse's voice as he teased her.

"fuck off," ellie replied before jesse could finish his sentence, causing the three of you to share quiet giggles.

"so, when will we practice playing a song?" you inquired.

jesse snickered. "once broody over there is done writing her seventh sob st—"

"ow! fuck, that hurt!"

you and dina couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped your mouths when a pencil flung at jesse's head.

"i heard that. stop being a dick."

"you could've killed me! that almost hit my eye!"

"whatever," she threw the journal onto the coffee table and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "i'm done for now, you wanna try out a song, new girl?" ellie spoke.

"oh," you began, when you realized she was speaking directly at you for the first time. you didn't even bother correcting her with your name, "yeah, which one?"

the band exchanged looks, and dina pulled out her phone. she clicked on a recording titled R U mine?

"this one's kinda a work in progress," she explained, "we were in the middle of touching it up before anderson left."

ellie frowned. "that's too hard for her, pick a different one."

"i can handle a challenge, at least let me listen to it first," you bit back at ellie, clicking play on dina's phone. the song started up immediately with an intense bass riff, followed by symbols as ellie began singing.

you loved it right away. the desperation in ellie's voice, paired with the reckless drums, sudden sharp riffs, and undertones of the keys, had you hooked. it was an incredible song.

just before the bridge, there was a short duet between the bassist and guitar, which you assumed at the time was anderson and ellie. it made you nervous to play a duet with ellie, especially while knowing the last person that did was much more experienced than you.

regardless, you told the band you wanted to play this one. while everyone was preparing their instruments, ellie approached you.

"you don't need to do the intro, i will," she stated simply, beginning to turn around before you caught her arm. her head snapped to look at you, pulling her arm back sharply.

"give me a chance, i won't know what i can or can't do without giving it a shot. if it sucks, you can do it instead next time we run it," as intimidating as it was, you didn't allow your gaze to falter.

her eyebrows were furrowed, with an otherwise unreadable expression. "fine."

you weren't sure why you were pressing so hard to have a chance to show yourself. you wanted to impress, obviously. but for some unknown reason, you felt as if ellie's validation would feel much more rewarding than the others.

you glanced at ellie. with her bangs perfectly falling in front of her face, tank top that had her toned arms and a beautiful forearm tattoo on display, and dark hazel eyes, she was mesmerizing. she was even more attractive up close, and yet, you wished she could be the version she was in your head.

it was selfish, and you knew it, but you couldn't help but picture her as the charming, enticing, brilliant girl you witnessed on stage a few days prior.

she suddenly gestured to you. "whenever you're ready."

dina shot you a thumbs up, and you grinned back.

you hesitantly grazed the strings with your pick as you took a deep breath.

you tapped your foot in a quick rhythm. 5,6,7,8

your eyes flew between the sheet and the guitar as you started up the song with the complicated riff. jesse added on with the drums, and ellie with her guitar.

you let out a sigh of relief as you settled into a pattern and the song continued. you had skimmed over the sheet before beginning, so you knew the first hardest part was over.

it was going much smoother than you expected. you settled into a comfortable space where you followed ellie's lead, and your instruments harmonized perfectly. ellie's eyes closed, and she muttered the lyrics to herself.

you restrained from staring, deciding to focus on giving your best performance, and not fangirl over the rockstar to your left.

the duet was approaching, and you had to hit the first riff. you felt a heavy sense of not wanting to disappoint. this needed to be perfect.

you chewed on your lip as thoughts rushed through your mind, but no time to carefully think each one over.

you had always hated using picks when you played, but were too polite to turn it down when ellie threw you one. you forgot how much you loved having the feeling of the strings on your fingers, and the stinging reminder of it in the morning.

in a quick moment you would later explain as an instinct to follow your gut, you dropped the pick and began the duet, instantly feeling much more confident.

ellie glanced at your hands once her part began. you prayed she wouldn't be upset at your decision. you had already come to realize she had quite a short fuse, and wasn't afraid to let loose on even her seemingly closest friends.

you strummed your guitar again as she paused, and your section eventually lead into the song resuming. there was an intense build up before it calmed down, coming to a gentle ending.

your heart raced with excitement. you thought it was amazing, and you were extremely proud of yourself. you glanced around the room, hoping to hear feedback from any of the band members.

dina's smile grew slowly.

"she told you she could handle a challenge."

jesse let out a short laugh while beaming. "that was great!"

all ellie did was shrug. "not a fan of picks?"

"no, i've always preferred to play without."

she crossed her arms. "sounds better with it. you should get used to it."

you scoffed. "it makes the song sound too scratchy if guitar and bass use a pick. especially if you play this one live, it'll make their ears bleed."

she took a sharp inhale through her nose, turning to dina and jesse. "you guys think it's better when both are on pick, don't you?"

dina and jesse remained silent, but it was clear whose side they were taking.

ellie let out a bitter laugh. "might as well let new girl rename the fucking band while we're at it. next we'll make her the lead singer! how does that sound?" she spat out as she removed the guitar, threw it to the couch, and stormed out the door before you could run it again with vocals.

"i-i'm so sorry, i just... wanted to help," you stuttered, in shock.

"it's not your fault, hun," dina softly spoke, standing up from her stool and walking towards you. "she's too stubborn for her own good, but you'll be good for us, i know it."

you tilted your head in confusion, silently asking for her to elaborate.

dina sighed. "we kind of got used to her pushing us around, since we know how angry and destructive she can get. she needs someone, like you, to not be afraid to challenge her when she's stuck in her ways. and for the record, we thought you were right with the whole scratchy thing."

your heart soared, smiling brightly at dina. "thank you, really."

"yeah, babe, that was wise, i second that," jesse chimed in, creating applause by tapping his drumsticks together, which made you and dina chuckle.

your mind wandered to ellie, and you felt horrible for making her angry. you weren't sure what was going to happen with her. she remained a mystery to you.

you needed to figure her out.

a/n: cute band bonding time and ellie has a temper tantrum. i promise u she will let her guard down eventually 😭 she just needs to be an asshole now so the character development really hits 🙏 hope u all enjoyed this chapter!!!! this series is sm fun to write (*^▽^*) i love learning new stuff about music!

taglist: @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn

[poetryandfluffycats]

One of Those Nights

A/N: this is the first fic I've ever posted on here please be kind 😭

Pairing: Leo Tsukinaga x fem! reader

Warnings: Maybe slightly ooc Leo, very mild cussing

Content: Leo has a habit of waking up with inspiration at weird hours, this is one of those times

Words: 625

Oneshot under cut!

"Wahahha! I'm a genius! Look (name), aren't I genius?"

Leo had a habit of doing this. Waking up at some ungodly hour of the night after inspiration hit him. Which was great, as his partner I loved that he was working so hard for his unit. Only problem was, these late night bursts of creativity often woke me up, and Leo would not stop blabbering until he fell back asleep himself.

I was laying ontop of the covers with my feet in the air as I watched Leo at his desk, papers sprawled out everywhere. His ginger hair was down from his usual ponytail and his green eyes sparkled with delight. He was beautiful, yes, but also quite a pain in the ass at times.

"(name) (name) (name)~ what do you think of these lyrics? Aren't they good? I can't wait to show everyone!" He flung some papers over at the bed and I barely managed to catch them.

"Yes darling, your a genius" I mumbled sleepily as I read through the scribbles on the paper. It was just a few random verses and a chorus thrown together, but it did flow nicely.

"Yes! Isn't it great! I wrote it about you, can you tell? It's a love song" He was bouncing up and down in his chair like a little kid. I couldn't help but smile at his antics.

I gently placed the paper down on the bed and rested my head in arms, creating a makeshift pillow for myself.

"Hmm" I hummed in response to Leo and closed my eyes, my tiredness slowly taking over my body. I could almost feel myself drifting into unconscious, until...

WACK!

"Ack! What-" I suddenly found myself with Leo sitting on my back, a pillow in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. Obviously, I wasn't getting away that easy.

"Hey! You can't go to sleep yet, I still have so many ideas to tell you about," he gave me the biggest puppy dog eyes, "Please?"

I sighed. There was just no way I could stay mad at him. Not at those eyes. Looking up at him, I smiled and caressed his cheek, rubbing my thumb against his soft skin. "Can you at least come to bed? I promise, you can still tell me all about your genius plans"

"Hmmmm" Leo leaned his head into my hand, pondering my question.

I gave him a quick peck on the lips, "Please?"

A small blush dusted his cheeks and his expression lightened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "okay, since you asked so nicely"

He sild off me and snuggled under the covers, making grabby hands at me to follow suit.

I rolled my eyes and sild in beside him, my chest flush against his and our faces inches apart. I wrapped my arms around him and lazily slung my leg over his, taking in the warmth of his body.

"So, tell me about these ideas of yours"

"Oh! Well I had this thought about-"

And off he went, rambling on about whatever came to his mind in the moment. I just laid there, listening to him and occasionally giving him a kiss whenever he stopped to breath.

Slowly but surely, his brainstorming slowed down, and I could see his eyelids growing heavy. He nuzzled into my chest and his speech became more slurred and incoherent as he continued, until he was nothing more than a blabbering mess.

I placed a soft kiss to his forehead, "Goodnight darling"

"Hmm, nighty night.."

With that, he was out like a light.

I smiled to myself, nuzzling my head into his ginger locs and sighing.

Maybe these late night brainstorms weren't such a bad thing.

[bluecatwriter]

This idea, based on the Blood of My Blood AU, got stuck in my head and I had to write it! (Sorry @animate-mush, the cylinders didn't make it into this scene because I was trying to keep it from being like 10,000 words long, alas.) Featuring Jack with his prosthetic hand and destroyed vocal cords, and Vampire Quincey Harker trying to make sense of what he is.

Big TW for suicidal ideation.

~~~

Jack was up late, as usual; he'd just heard the clock strike midnight, but he was scribbling corrections on the latest draft of his paper about therapeutic treatments for epilepsy, due the day after tomorrow to a scientific journal. He paused to push up his glasses and scrub at his eyes. Even though he'd been keeping a nocturnal existence for years, he felt exhausted.

He heard a soft knock on his door.

He looked up in surprise; Lu was usually fast asleep by now, and Arthur would not have knocked. But why would one of the servants be disturbing him at this hour? He turned his pen over and tapped it against his desk three times, which signaled to come in. However, the door didn't open, and then the knock came again. Ah. He knew exactly who it was, now.

He walked quickly to the door and opened it. Quincey Harker stood in the pitch-black hallway, his pupils contracting as light from Jack's study flooded in on him. He was even paler than usual, and trembling slightly.

It was remarkable how much he managed to look like both Jonathan and Mina: he carried himself like his father, that same grave politeness, but had the quick, clever look about him that Mina had always had. "Dr. Seward," he said, his voice sounding empty. "I need to talk to you."

Whatever he was here for, it couldn't be good. Jack nodded to him, ushering him inside, and gesturing him over to his desk. He cleared the papers and set up a one-handed typewriter (they had one in every room of the house, in case Jack needed to mention some technical language that they didn't have a sign for yet). He bade Quincey pull up a chair so they could sit next to each other, and he put in a fresh sheet of paper. He wished Quincey knew his sign language, but this would have to do for now.

Jack gestured to him, raising both eyebrows to invite him to speak. 

Quincey hesitated a long time, clenching and unclenching his hands on his knees. At last, he spoke with a dead serious voice. "Dr. Seward, I need you to kill me."

For an instant, he couldn't breathe.

He heard Mina's voice in her son's: the vow he had taken, the vow he had failed. 

But he also heard his own words, typed out on a typewriter very much like this one, letter by letter since he wasn't fluent yet, as Arthur stood there with tears in his eyes. 

>>Let me die<< Jack had typed, all those years ago. 

And Arthur had said, "No."

(That day, Jack had grabbed the typewriter with his remaining hand and hurled it through the window.)

(And then he had kept living.)

He shook his head, trying to rattle himself back into the present moment, to this child— this vampire child, this child who should not be able to exist— trembling in the chair before him. Quincey was staring at his hands now, his breath stuttering as if trying to hold back tears, and Jack had to reach over to touch his shoulder to get him to look up at him.

Quincey raised his head; his eyes were brimming with what appeared to be blood, which sent a stab of alarm through Jack before he wondered if this was how vampires cried. Focus, he told himself. He reached out to the typewriter and typed one word on the blank page:

>>Why?<<

Quincey gritted his teeth, and held his chin up almost defiantly. God, he looked just like Jonathan right then. "Because I am a monster."

Jack stared at him: the blood welling up as tears, the pallor of his skin, the fangs protruding from his mouth. All the elements that had once raised only fear and terror and disgust in himself. 

Without looking away from him, Jack placed his hand on the typewriter and typed out the words: >>Who told you that?<<

Quincey stared at him as if the answer should be obvious, and Jack raised his eyebrows again, keeping his face calm.

"I read the journals that Lord Godalming gave me," Quincey said, staring at him as if challenging him. 

Jack gave out a small, pained sound, and slumped back in his chair. Of course Arthur would do something like that. Of course Arthur would want to share the documents, to not keep secrets. And yet, Arthur had so little to lose by doing so: he had barely any words of his own in the collection of documents. But Jack's words… all those things he had said and done, the record of his wrongs and mistakes, seemed to rise from the past and choke him.

"I read Papa's words," Quincey continued, still staring him down with those crimson eyes, "the stories of the way he met Father. Everything I've known— everything I am— is horrifying to him." His gaze was steady, but his fangs bared. "And to all of you." The blood-tears slipped from one of his eyes and dripped down his face. "I need you to kill me."

Jack reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. Then he decisively shook his head, and mouthed the word, No.

"You have to!" Quincey burst out, shaking off Jack's hand and jumping to his feet. "You know what I am! I've learned what I am through your words. I thought you of all people would understand!" He whirled to face him again, and the snarl on his face sent all the hair on Jack's neck rising in instinctive fear. "What about Lu's namesake? You were disgusted by her. You loathed her. You said yourself that you would kill her with pleasure when she became like— like me!" He was shaking so hard he looked like he might fall apart.

Jack fought to keep his expression calm; every word hit him like a knife, as if Jonathan's son was slashing into his throat as surely as Jonathan had. (Any moment he would wake up drowning in his own blood…) But these were old wounds, and though they bled anew, the pain was familiar.

Once again, Quincey seemed to have forgotten that Jack could only talk when Quincey was looking at him, and he had to put a hand on his shoulder again. Quincey pulled away, but he had his attention now. Jack motioned to the chairs, and Quincey sank down, blood-tears now trickling down his face.

Jack hesitated a long moment, unsure how to sum up everything he wanted to say. No, it was impossible. So he typed three words:

>>I was wrong.<< 

Jack gulped, staring at the inadequate words he'd typed. He looked at Quincey with all the remorse he felt, wishing desperately that Quincey understood sign language. It was like being back to the beginning of his great silence, when all he could do was scrawl illegible words on paper, or pick at the typewriter to learn to type for the first time. He pointed at the words again, and with his prosthetic hand he beat his breast in a sign of penitence.

Quincey just stared at him, at a loss. Jack made a nervous hum, then started to type, trying to get his typed words to keep pace with his thoughts.

>>You don't have the whole story. When your mum began to turn, your papa loved her just as much. He never stopped loving her.<< He paused, making the only rumbling sound that his throat would make, frustrated at how hard it was to put his thoughts into words this way. >>In the end, he defended her from us. I paid the price for trying to harm her.<<

Quincey's eyes grew wide. He had stopped crying, and the blood was drying on his face now. 

Jack held up his prosthetic hand meaningfully, and touched the scar that snaked along his neck. And how could he convey the enormity of the other losses— of Quincey and Van Helsing bleeding out in the snow? He would never forgive the Harkers for that. But he did not need to. >>I did what I thought I must do. So did he.<< 

He might not have forgiven them, but he did not blame them.

Quincey slumped in his chair, his shoulders dropping. When he looked up, there was something incredibly young and vulnerable in his face. "…Doesn't that make you hate me even more?"

The old Jack would have hated him, perhaps. But he was not his old self. He was not a 29-year-old who felt invincible in his pride and intelligence. He was not a man who drew hard lines and separated everything he experienced into those two sides. He was fifty now, silent for 21 years, and had learned to live with the complexity of gray, of nuance, of the ache of not knowing. 

If Quincey could understand, he could have signed all this. But Quincey could not, so Jack just typed, >>You are proof that love can survive in all places.<< He paused, then added, >>You are a good man.<<

He didn't expect Quincey to burst into tears again, but he did, hunching over in his chair and sobbing. Once, Jack had not known what to do when someone broke down, but now he did not hesitate, leaning over and wrapping both arms around the boy. Quincey leaned into his hug, still sobbing messily. "I'm not, I'm not!" Quincey wailed. "I'm not…" 

Jack wished that he could speak the words aloud, could repeat over and over, You are a good man.

Instead he just hugged him, holding him as he rode the wave of emotions, trying to help him learn, as Jack himself had once learned, that the answer to Please let me die would always be No.

At last Quincey cried himself out, and his breaths grew longer and slower. Jack pulled away and offered him a handkerchief, trying his best not to be unnerved by the amount of blood-tears that had marked his jacket (Arthur was going to have another nervous breakdown when he saw the stains, he thought with a sigh).

When he had Quincey's attention again, he pulled out the sheet of paper, and tore off the last line, pressing it into his hand. >>You are a good man.<< Jack smiled at him as best he could, willing him to believe it.

Quincey gulped. And then slowly, he nodded, crinkling the paper in his hand. With a little sob, he slumped over again, resting his head on Jack's shoulder. Jack pulled him back into a tight embrace.

He doubted that Quincey believed him, at least not at the moment. But he didn't need to. Jack and Lu and hopefully even Arthur would believe it for him. And someday, he hoped that Quincey would believe it for himself, too.

~~~

[beomgyw]

RISE AND SHINE

(IN WHICH GRANDMA PUSHES THE YEONJUN/YOU AGENDA)

welcome your first day of work!! seeing that a lot of you are reading all of the timelines, i'm trying to keep the paths as different as possible, but i'm still sowwy if you have to read through too many similar scenarios apart from the common ones. trying my best !! oh, and sorry for the long wait :( COMMON TIMELINE WARNING: for those of you who are reading through all the paths, you'll get to this scenario more than once. there's no important details added, so you can skip it if you've fount it on another timeline! if you're new here, hi! this is a multi-choice beomjun love triangle au fic !! if you wanna choose your own paths, go back to the beginning!

the morning sun saunters into the room, painting the walls with a soft, golden glow. easy does it, unlike the chaotic wake-up calls of seoul's streets. you had to admit, dragging yourself out of bed felt like a breeze in this beach town, where the sun tiptoes in with a gentle whisper.

you wake up happy, and the promise of working at a bookstore—it just fits right for you. so, after a brief internal fashion showdown (do not refrain from consulting your pinterest for your fic of choice), you are dressed and ready to go. that's when the smell of grandma’s breakfast gets to your room.

“y/n, dear, quick! come down before breakfast gets cold!” grandma's voice chimes through the bottom floor. it's astonishing, the energy this woman has in the mornings.

downstairs, you find yourself face-to-face with a steaming bowl of haejjanguk. a subtle jab, maybe, but grandma doesn't comment on the soju-based-gathering huening kai and you had the night before. instead, she chooses to ask about something else.

“you didn't come back home alone last night, did you?” she pours herself some coffee, cool as if she had just asked about the weather, and settles across from you with her newspaper. "boyfriend, maybe?"

you nearly choke on your stew. “what? oh, uh, yeah– i mean, no. no way. grandma, i just got here.” you have absolutely no idea of how she knows, but somehow, she does.

your grandma raises an eyebrow, not even bothering to look up from the pages. “so what? you knew people before you left.”

“yeah, but i didn't even have time to– i couldn't have gotten a boyfriend in the span of one night, grandma,” you mutter. your grandma's seeming tranquility is what's taking you out of it.

"i don't know, kids are premature these days.” grandma muses, more to herself than to you. "so, who walked you home?"

you shrug, trying to play it cool. “just someone i knew from middle school. choi yeonjun.”

“just someone? you used to have a big crush on him when you were little, didn't you?” she lets the words hang in the air, fishing for a reaction.

“oh, come on, grandma, that was ages ago,” you protest. "and i didn't even like him that much..."

"really? because when we got your room repainted a few years back, you had this corner next to your bed with his name scribbled all over the wall..."

you curse yourself in your head. you really were an absolutely cringe kid. "that's just... children stuff..."

“could be... but, you know, your dad used to have a similar corner, with your mom's name.” she remarks casually. "he liked her since middle school, too. god knows why. his crush corner was worse; he drew little hearts around her name, even."

“why are you telling me all this again, grandma?” you ask, sipping on your stew, trying not to show how creepy her psychic abilities are.

“no particular reason,” she replies, "you're just costing me a fortune in repainting. and also because i don't think yeonjun is not that bad,"

"why would you not like him?" you ask. if you sounded defensive, your grandma ignored it.

"you know, he's a bit too much of a free spirit, but if you like him, i like him too... i'm a modern grandma." she says, and you keep quiet. this feels like a trap. “he might be unorthodox, but he's good looking, and he hangs with your cousin sometimes, which must mean he has a kind heart." she tells you. but then something dawns on her, "speaking of your cousin, why isn’t he up yet?” she questions, springing up from her seat with surprising vigor. she's got the energy of ten yous.

"the sun isn't even fully up yet..." you chime in, relieved for the change of subject. but the peace is short-lived. she's finished her coffee; ergo, she's finished her break. she's done with the interrogation bit. like a drill sergeant, she storms upstairs to wake kai up.

when she returns, she dives into the kitchen for clean-up duty without wasting a second. you attempt to lend a hand but receive a sharp slap on the wrist. "it’s summer, gran, cut him some slack," you say, rubbing the affected area with your other hand.

"slack? it's summer for you too, and you're off to work. unlike him. he works but doesn't get paid. he's a pushover, your cousin." grandma grumbles, her voice slicing through the clatter of dishes.

“what do you mean?” you prod.

“he does volunteer work,” she spits out. "spends more time at the geoje social centre than in his own bed. and it is nice of him, yes. but one must be kind, not stupid.”

curiosity burning, you press for more details. “volunteer work? what's he helping with?”

with a dismissive wave, grandma brushes off your inquiries. “who cares? all i know is he’s not getting paid for it.”

before you get a chance to dig deeper, huening stumbles into the kitchen, still half-asleep, looking like he’s just fought a battle with his bedsheets. “you’re up already?” he groans at you, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“yeah, first day at work,” you reply with a sympathetic grin.

“oh, good luck." he smiles lazily, his words interrupted but a massive yawn. "wanna hang out later? i can come pick you up.”

“sure, hyuka. once you've fully woken up we can hang out,” you chuckle, slinging your bag over your shoulder and starting your way to the door.

you grab you things and leave the house after ruffling huening´s hair in exchange for a dismissive hand gesture, as if he was trying to keep a bee away.

now off to work! or should you get coffee first?

NEXT PART !!

[mittysins]

Newt at Home

Includes: Trans mpreg, graphic labor and orgasmic birth

I'm so glad I was able to get this finished! First Mayternity, in the bag. Of course I needed to use Newt for this. I'm so proud that I've actually managed to complete a seasonal art piece. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

[FIND THE UNCENSORED ART ON TWITTER]

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

Okay, I'm not going to lie and say I'm not kind of freaked out. I'm standing in the kitchen wearing a loose shirt and a pair of sweatpants, quickly scribbling down the time in my notebook.

10:56 PM. I've been in labor for 10 hours, at least. I couldn't really tell at first, thinking the twinge in my lower abdomen was just Braxton Hicks. I ate my lunch and had a nap without a second thought.

Eventually I realized the pain wasn't going away, in fact it was introducing a new pressure in my hips that I was frankly not a fan of. Okay. So that’s how it is.

I started by emailing my professor. Just a vague mention of a family emergency, and that I was going to need an extension on an upcoming essay.

Continuing on, I sent a quick “baby’s on her way!” to the group chat where my friends were dicking around as they usually did. I laughed at their excited responses as I tapped my pen on the paper. Newest contraction started 43 seconds ago. I was doing just fine.

Then to get down to business. I blessed my past self for having half a mind to have everything ready a month beforehand. Everything I needed was in the bottom drawer of the baby’s dresser. A few old towels, a package of training pads, and settled neatly on top was a pair of sterile clamps and scissors within blue plastic packaging. I felt my heart skip a beat when I opened the drawer to set everything up. This was actually happening.

It was a waiting game from then on. Which is how I ended up here. My contractions are now 4 minutes apart and it's really starting to set in. My chest burns in a weird way, most likely a result of binding for years. I accepted the lung damage a long time ago, and it seems to be making itself well known as my breathing grows increasingly ragged. I can't quite keep my legs together anymore with that ever-present weight on my pelvis. It feels like something is about to give at any second. I assume it’s my water, honestly I figured it would have broken by now. I let out a long sigh as the contraction ends and set down the pen. I sway my hips as I flip through the notebook on the counter in front of me. Written on the first page is the date my pregnancy test was positive as well as a few phone numbers. I can still see a few splotches of faded numbers where my tears had mixed with the ink of my favorite pen. The next few pages were symptoms, weight, my medications including my testosterone gel. Everything medical. I was so scared all those months ago, it almost makes me anxious to look back on those pages. I prefer to look at the middle of the notebook, where I noted when I had gone a week without morning sickness, my first weird craving, the bizarre and vivid dreams I was having. My favorite was the page dedicated to name suggestions. All my friends took turns scribbling down names they liked, laughing and teasing each other as we crossed some out and circled others. It isn't too long before I flip to my current page and glance at my phone.

11:00 on the dot.

I bite my lip and continue my swaying with a firm grip on the counter. It hurts now. That's not to say it didn't hurt before, but now it's getting intense. Each clawing contraction feels like a band being tightened around my entire lower abdomen. It's enough to keep me tensed up with my head bowed for its entirety, until finally, finally, there's that give.

I let out a soft groan as my water breaks. It's not a huge gush like in the movies, more of like a gentle pop followed by a steady stream of fluid that lasts a few seconds. I take a moment to assess my situation. Pants need to come off, obviously, but after that? I couldn't quite decide. I weigh my options as I wattle back to my room and remove my sweatpants, tossing them into a laundry pile I'd designated to this whole ordeal. I could lay in bed with a pillow between my knees and just… wait. I quickly toss that option when I realize how little I've sat still since I even realized I was in labor. A shower sounds nice, the wetness between my legs is less than pleasant and the water on my back would be helpful. I could set up a spot on the couch, just throw down some waterproof pads and a towel or two and labor there, maybe get some last minute work done.

I tense up. Oh, now this is different. I subconsciously bend my knees a little as the contraction reaches its peak. The release of pressure when my water broke was heavenly, but the respite didn't last long. Instead the pressure returned, now bringing with it an intense fullness resting just at the base of my pelvis. I grimace as I feel more fluid trickle between my thighs. Shower it is.

I watch the clock switch to 11:04 as the contraction lets up.

It's a short walk across the hall to get to my bathroom. I realize how sensitive my nipples are when I peel off my shirt. I flush at the sound I make when the fabric drags, sending a jolt down my spine. I'm getting worked up and my heart rate quickens for a moment. I turn the faucet tab and slowly drag myself into the tub, letting the warm water run down my back and legs. For a few moments it feels like routine again. Just me and my baby. No college, no work, no bills, no angry parents. Just me, lowering myself to my knees in the shower, my baby burrowing dangerously low in my pelvis with the next contraction.

It's hard to keep track of time from then on. I'm sort of just zoning out a lot, concentrating closely with each new wave of pain and letting my mind wander in the steeply decreasing downtime. Eventually I’m talking aloud to her, telling her how loved she already is, that she can come on out when she’s ready, that I'm so excited to finally meet her. That I'm ready. My mindless blabbering stops when I feel a very sudden shift.

Before I realize it I'm openly groaning into the air with the gripping contraction. It all just got very real, and I can feel myself becoming frantic. The increase in pressure was maddening, and no amount of shifting and rolling my hips would relieve it. My last contraction was at most a minute ago. I don't have long at all. I decide to push, just the tiniest bit, at the end of the contraction. It's just a little shove, I don't even hold my breath. Just enough to try it out and get a feel for the sensation. If she’s coming, she's coming. If she’s not, what happens? I wait a little longer and try again?

Another timid nudge.

Yeah, she’s definitely coming.

As soon as the contraction lets up I turn off the shower and heave myself out to towel off. I almost want to jump out of my skin I'm so excited. A quick collection of my shirt, phone and towel and I’m waddling back into my room, haphazardly tossing them on my bed. I decide to wait until after the next contraction to climb up onto my bed and really get this show on the road. When I get a look at myself in the full length mirror near my dresser I have a chance to catch my breath. My taught belly has noticeably dropped, basically screaming to the world what was about to happen. I'm flushed and sweaty and my wet hair is still sticking to my forehead. I’m all out of sorts, but I couldn't care one bit what I look like right now. Baby couldn't care less either. That telltale tightening grips me again, and when it begs for me to push along with it, I deepen my stance into a half-squat and bare down.

It almost feels… good? It's a very odd sensation but it feels like such a release to finally get to work with the pressure instead of against it. Two firm pushes in front of the mirror and I decided my bed was there if I needed it. Instead, I swipe a training pad from the package and lay it down on the floor in front of the mirror before stepping onto it. And I wait. At this point I'm so eager to push it’s hard to focus on anything else. I slowly lower myself down to be half kneeling, one foot propped up to let my hips open. I suck in a deep breath, and just like that I'm stuck in a contraction and pushing so hard I see my face go red. Exhale, inhale, push like hell. So it goes.

It only takes a few good pushes to feel something hard and very noticeably large lodged in my birth canal. Between pushes one of my hands dips down and curiously prods at my lips. I don't know what I was expecting to feel, she’s definitely not there yet, but nevertheless I’m a lot more sensitive than usual. I feel perpetually slick now considering I've been leaking little by little for the last hour and a half. But that's not just it. The past twelve hours have been the most in-tune I've ever felt with my body, like we’re finally working towards the same goal of giving birth to my daughter safely and calmly. The excitement and the love mixed with the fullness of her head moving downward almost became ecstasy. One accidental brush to my sensitive clit and I'm shivering. The sudden rush of pleasure triggers a contraction and I weakly push through it. Once the contraction ends my fingers slip into my birth canal. I was disappointed for a moment when I didn't feel anything.

Until I did. About two and a half knuckles deep, there was the hard, slimy ball I had been working down for the past twelve hours.

Oh my fucking god, that’s my baby.

I was awestruck. Just allowing the pads of my middle and ring fingers to press against her head was enough to have me grinning like an idiot.

Returning my hand to its place on my knee, I bore down again with the upcoming contraction. This time a low groan escapes my throat and I find myself leaning forward just the slightest bit. Looking in the mirror, I become fixated on the bulge forming behind my lips. I'm leaking fluid considerably now, and I'm grunting out little pushes when I swear I see a dark sliver start to part my folds. I only saw it for a split second. My hand dips between my legs once more and I press a finger into my lips. Sure enough, just out of sight rests my baby’s head. The quick progress I made surprises me, and I let out a breathy laugh as I trace my fingers back up to my dick. The warm tingling in my belly when I rub a few experimental circles into the swollen nub quickly melts my grunts into soft moans. My breath quickens. I was expecting this to be horribly painful, yet here I am moaning with the next contraction. All I can focus on in the mirror is the sight of my lips parting for my baby’s head. I moan through the stretch of my perineum, letting my pleasure bring me higher as I watch my lips pull out into a teardrop shape.

My rubbing has found a steady pace, and my hips buck a bit. I'm close, I can tell, and I feel the head continue to push my lips open. That burn is starting to set in. Another firm push.

I almost yelp when the head stretches me to a full crown, but I find myself so awestruck by the sight that I fail to make any noise at all. My rubbing continues as there the head stays. The burn is searing. Until finally, the release of my orgasm carries me blissfully as the head surges forward with a gush.

I kneel there for a moment, legs shaking and eyes fluttering, as I process what just happened. The aftershocks distract me through the next contraction, giving me time to gather myself. I can see it in the mirror, my baby’s head hanging out of me as it's supported in my hands. A sob rips from my throat as my fingers wander, feeling her tiny ears and nose.

“Oooh-kaaaaay.” I breathe, shaking off the numb tingly feeling that accompanied my orgasm. My fingers fumble around the baby’s neck, quickly untangling the umbilical cord and pulling over her head.

After lifting myself up to standing, the short few steps that should have been my journey to my bed became a quest. I knew I had no chance of closing my legs at this point, so it's a slow shuffle making my way over with shaky legs and a hand between them to support my baby. Climbing up onto the mattress isn't much easier, but I eventually manage to sit up against my pillows, legs butterflied out. From there I wait.

“Come on, kiddo.” I encourage. “I’m ready, you can come out now.” I wiggle my hips and give a tiny push, trying to get her to turn.

Once she does, I'm all in. My hands find purchase behind my knees and I pull back, red in the face as I push as hard as I can for the shoulders. The way I'm sitting, I don’t even need the mirror to see. I watch as my swollen lips spread around the first shoulder, then the other with a small spurt of fluid, and then-

I barely have time to catch her as with the last push, the rest of the baby spills out with a gush.

“Oh my god-” I sputter out as I lift the infant to my chest. As soon as she touches my skin, she begins wailing. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. I check her over with wide, misty eyes.

“You are just absolutely perfect, aren't you?”

I giggle at her squirming attempt to get comfortable. So that’s what’s been keeping me up at night.

The ache sets in quickly, and I make quick (quick enough) work of delivering the afterbirth, cutting the cord and making sure we were both cleaned up and warm. Once I'm in a pair of sweatpants and back with her on my bed, I lay her back down on my bare chest, opting for a light blanket to wear cape-style and cover us both. I'm absolutely awestruck.

“Alright, we’ve given your aunts and uncles enough emotional prep time, don't you think?” I say decidedly to the already-sleeping infant as I unlock my phone, quickly finding the “video call” button in the group chat.

I'm grinning like an idiot as three of my friends join the call at lightspeed, the other two following quickly behind.

“Guys, someone wants to meet you!”

[sterekmylove]

Red Fabric {Young Sterek}

Your prompt: Person B lends their sweater to Person A. When Person A is home, they realize they still have Person B's sweater and find Person B's iPod. Out of curiosity, Person A looks through Person B's music and finds a playlist titled with Person A's name.

P: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski

Age: 18 & 19

A/N: I forgot to post it here.

—

“Dude… just take the damn sweater! Stop being stubborn” Stiles groans as he tried to shove his sweater into Derek's hands, the sick omega

Refusing his friend's request. They've been repeating this little argument since Derek first walked into History, taking a seat next to Stiles and dropping his head onto the table ignoring Mr. Harris words to pick up his head, and that it wasn't nap time. Derek hadn't picked up his head, instead, he made a sound that nearly sounded like a growl. The sound even caught Scott's attention, looking away from Allison to look toward the Omega who sat one row ahead. Stiles kept his eyes down on his notations scribbling away— adding in extra for Derek later. He kept his voice low so Mr. Harris didn't try to give him detention for the simple fact that he spoke.

“Are you okay?” the lanky teenager asked in a low voice. Derek had hummed in response. Not good enough.

“Der” Stiles tried again.

Derek let out a raspy breath shifting his head against the desk to peak towards Stiles, the brunette doing the same— side-eyeing the werewolf. The omega looked like hell, his tan skin was paler— Stiles couldn't even blame that on the season— the cool air in the room being a reminder of the freezing cold outside that is known as winter.

“ ‘mm fine” he mumbles in response.

Stiles snorts, keeping his eyes on the paper. Bullshit.

“Something funny Mr. Stilinski?” Mr. Harris questions

Stiles glanced up at the teacher with a pen in his mouth— when did he get it there? Stiles glances around the room to see everyone looking at him— facing his attention back on the teacher.

“Uh—” the pen drops from his mouth, making a sound against the table— he looks down then back up real quick to do a one-over when his brain comes to a halt.

“Um… no?”

“Then why did you snort?”

“Cause I farted— what else?” He asked his expression mocking a duh look mixed with ‘are you stupid?’ Look.

Derek made a low strangled sound. Scott covered his mouth while ducking his head. Stiles twisted in his seat to turn and look at Allison who was sitting with Scott and behind Stiles.

“Forgive me Ms. Argent for passing gas, is that nose okay?” Stiles asks dramatically.

Allison pressed her lips together trying her best to hide her smile as she just nodded at Stiles. Stiles smiles brightly, turning back to the teacher. Mr. Harris stares at Stiles then sighs— deciding not to argue with the lanky boy today.

For once.

Now, back to what’s wrong with the sourwolf.

Stiles found out in second period Art what was wrong with his friend.

“Sick? you’re sick. How the—.”

“Breathe Bambi,” Derek declared as his hand moved in strokes on the canvas.

Stiles takes a second or two to breathe and then speak.

“I thought werewolves couldn't get sick?”

“Bitten one can't, born can. We're still Humans Stiles, just grow extra hair on a full moon” Derek spoke in a low tone.

Was— did he— did Derek unintentionally make a joke to Stiles on the last part? nevermind that he'll go back to that later.

“But how— dude are you—”

“Stiles what are you—” The back of Stiles's hand touches the omega's cheek, Derek's droopy eyes widening a bit at the contact of Stiles's cool skin against his face. Before the sick wolf can even consider leaning into the touch of Stiles' warmth— which he will blame on his sickness— Stiles pulls away.

“Dude— you're cold, you, Derek Hale who is usually built like a real-life heater are cold!” Stiles stresses out, Derek didn't need to look at the lanky teen to see what type of face he was making.

“Take my—”

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

“Derek—”

“Stiles.”

“My sweater is better!”

“No, I'm already wearing my leather jacket” Derek declines, pushing down the feeling of accepting the human request— the excuse of Derek wearing his close friend's sweater and smelling his scent for the rest of the day was tempting– but he wasn't going to. He was sick, those little ticks were all a part of his cold.

The want to lean into the cool touch, the want to accept the sweater, the want to be even closer to Stiles and bury his face deep into his friend's neck and take in his scent till his mind is dizzy with the smell of Stiles.

Roasted hazelnuts with the lingering smell of black coffee and medication—Adderall.

“And clearly it's not keeping you warm enough if you caught a cold Derek”

—

Which leads to now— they were in third-period gym playing dodgeball, Derek weak on his feet— stubborn and very human Stiles still arguing with the Hale boy over his sweater as balls were being thrown at them.

“Come on—“

“Duck!”

Stiles dodges barely fast enough from the flying ball that hit the wall hard, Derek glares at the culprit that threw the ball— Tyler Johnson.

“Johnson!” He barks picking up one of the red balls that landed by his feet throwing it towards the brunette hitting him in the stomach making the other teen wheeze sinking to his feet, Stiles winches at the site.

“Derek—.” Derek grabs Stiles by the front of his shirt yanking him towards himself— making the lanky human not get hit by a ball.

“Stiles focus—.”

“Take my sweater and I will!”

“Stiles it’s cold outside-.”

“I’ll wear your leather jacket— just take the damn sweater you stubborn—.”

Bonk!

A ball gently hits Stiles in the head, the pale teen blinks a couple of times. Staring— staring at Derek who had pulled him close to him with a ball in his hand and with enough force hit him in the forehead with it. Stiles looked at the omega as if he committed a crime, his mouth opening and closing— Derek catching a ball before it hit him in the face.

“Did you—“

Derek gives him the famous Hale smirk.

“Got to sit down Stilinski”

Stiles gasp, then looked over to Scott who just shrugged his shoulders.

“You little…”

“Go.”

Was that even allowed!?.

—

“I look stupid” Derek mumbled as he tugged at the red fabric that hugged his body, Stiles' sweater was loose but also fitted tight around the werewolf’s sick frame. He wore the cuffs of the sleeves over his palms looking down as the two walked down the hall— Stiles fixing Derek’s leather jacket around his body, patting the pockets filling his curiosity that can sometimes be dangerous.

“You look nice in red sourwolf I don’t see the reason to complain” Stiles says in a tone that can let anyone know he’s not paying attention to his words.

“That’s not— not that pocket Stiles”

Stiles stops his hand barely above the chest pocket looking at Derek while they walked down the hallway as the last bell rang.

“What’s in it?”

“Just don’t touch it”

Stiles nods moving his hand away shoving them in the pockets walking in silence.

—

Tags: @cowandcalf