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notakoala · 12 days

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Title cover by me, please ask for permission to use. Not the panel but the editing :)

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Todoroki's sick?

This is just a drabble for the moment but if I post this hooray you get to see what sort of lovesick lonely relationship I want.

ITS A COMPLETE SLOWBURN PLEASE DONT HATE ME

Contains: Vomit, Illness, Spoilers.

Todoroki gets sick? Thank god your there to help him you pitiful bastard.

Your in your last year of U.A, just after your exams he gets sick. Where did Shouto go?

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"Todoroki Shouto." The same monotone voice came from your tired teacher, had his eyebags dropped even more? His eyes had surely gotten more red. He looks stoned, you wish you could be too.

Zoning out for a second too long you feel a glare from your teacher who had probably said your name mote than three times by now, flicking his scarf to slide right past your ear, a whooshing sound which jolted you out of your zoned out state.

It was the same silence, the same silence that had gone on for the past three days. Time doesn't normally matter to you, the world moves either to quick or too slow so you do your own thing.

"Focus or I'll make you run laps."

You flinch and look directly at your teacher who had moved towards your desk, black eyes slowly emitting the gloomy red that scared you sometimes. Sitting up straighter then you had ever sat you gave him a small smile before nodding a small apology. Thank god he was tired or he might have probably killed you by now.

"Ah, [Your Name]. Is there something bothering you?" Uraraka asked beside you quietly as you all began writing. To which you turned to see her eyes locked with yours.

You respond with a quick 'hm' shaking your head trying not to worry your friend, shifting your focus back to your writing as you tried not to think about specific things.

'I wonder where Todoroki is...'

'Is he with his dad? Maybe his mum...'

You shake your head and pinch your arm to refocus feeling a hint of heat on the tips of your ears. Your eyes staring intensely at the word 'mixture'.

'Fuck, that's also like him.'

Rubbing your temples now, and running a hand behind the back of your neck and pressing down on the sore spot that had grown increasingly through the pressure of homework and assignments, Hero work too.

A low muttering came from Midoryia, he was back to his usual ways even while Mr Aizawa spoke in his colourless voice. And Ashido and Kaminari were whispering to each other trying to get some form of idea as to what to write.

If you were completely honest you didn't know what to write either, the work was something about Physical and Quirk development, which was a pain when you had learned majority of it in middle school.

Yet you didn't know what to write, even if you knew about what you were learning, you still didn't know what to write. Maybe it was the three assignments that you turned in earlier today, maybe you were just burnt out.

Aizawa's words were now muffled through your thoughts as you doodled over your pages of lined, neat work. They weren't the best but they were cute enough to stay in your book.

"But sir this is too difficult!" Mina and Denki whined in unison, snapping you out of your stage of drawing and listening into the bickering, Bakugou yelling at them from across the room.

"Shuddap. If you werent so stupid maybe you would understand!"

Aizawa sighed yet again, sleep deprived probably, maybe an insomniac. "Bakugou, get back to your own work."

After a miniature altercation between Aizawa and Bakugou, it ended with Bakugou going quiet and grumbling as he continued working and Aizawa scolding Mina and Denki.

Uraraka was giggling beside you, covering her smirk and lowering her head further than what it usually is and trying to compose herself. Her brown hair was definitely longer than what it was in your first year, down to her shoulders now.

She complained that it was getting too long and that she needed to cut it but she didn't have the money, so when Momo offered to pay she declined and said that her hair was fine the way it was.

Even if she was your friend she's a little too anxious about money, even if it was ten dollars. You knew it was because of her background but she's going to be paid a shit ton in the future, if she continued with her path of being a pro.

You ponder on the small parts that you were thinking of before. 'Three days.', was the main thought as you were distracted yet again, which ended with the sake old lecture about listening and paying attention by Aizawa.

***

"[Your Name!" Tsuyu and Mina ran after you, the entire of U.A walking the same paths as the rest of the years. It was your last year, last year of all of this. It sparks an anxious pain in your chest but at the same time motivation.

You turn to face your two friends and Mina practically jumps into your arms and nearly takes the both of you to the floor. And now your winded as Tsu drags Mina off you.

"Are you going to come to dinner tonight?" Tsu asks, her croaky voice comes from her, shorter than Mina and you but thankfully taller than that purple balled idiot. He hurt your neck often when he gave you creepy smiles and all his perverted stuff.

A shrug comes from your shoulders which ends with a pampering Mina begging you not to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of winter holidays. A short answer came from your lips and Tsu's tongue was sticking out as she smiled warmly.

"Probably not, I gotta get this resume in."

Tsu nodded and pulled at Mina's shirt and trying to usher her away as to not hold you back any longer. She might not have spoke many words but she's very expressive through her emotions.

Eventually she was picked off bit by bit, and the dormitory was around a minute away walking. You were tired, but now having to write up a resume that you were planning on doing a week earlier, didn't happen. The procrastination got to you before you even started.

So you began walking, thinking about how to start on your resume even though it was simple, obviously you had to start with your full name, address... 'Would it be the dorm number or just U.A?' The thought ran through your mind before getting thrown into the many other thoughts.

You gave a small wave to Sato who was watering some of the flowers that the class planted earlier this year. He waved back only a few seconds after you, and by then you were already at the steep of the stairs. Pushing the doors open to the smell of Bakugou's food.

Ignoring the smell you looked at the elevator before taking the stairs, you were only on the first floor anyway. It was a flight of stairs, the least you could do is not be lazy.

When you unlocked your door, the small 'rodent' so you claim it to be meowed and purred against your leg.

"Hey Asana, what'cha doing pretty?" You ran a hand along the curled soft hair of your cat, you weren't really supposed to have pets in the dorms but they didn't have to know about him.

Sure, Asana was a male cat with a girl's name, but he didn't know that. He can't understand English, sometimes that makes you suspicious of him. So you shut the door behind you, picking him up and smooching his head three times before he places a paw to your nose.

"You stink."

Asana responded with a long meow, of course. He wanted food, you place him on the ground and sort him out. Flopping onto your bed with a groan of relief when the softness of the cushion collides with your back.

In less than a second, the little rodent you loved so much had jumped on you and was making biscuits on your chest, putting all his weight on his front paws, making you wheeze in pain, how could a cat be so heavy?

He purred loudly and soon after fell asleep on you, which left you scrolling on your phone and typing up this resume that you definitely needed to do before you left school. And of course it would probably take three seconds to finish, but you had sooooo many other things to do. One of them was steal Bakugou's recipe cause damn his cooking is amazing, he would mind so you would have to do it in secret.

Did he even have a recipe to follow? It would surprise you if you didn't, maybe Sato could help. Bakugou never seemed to mind him helping with cooking, he'd prefer him cleaning or doing something else. But only a grumble would be his response.

Thinking over your plan you knew it wouldn't help, you were already on social media and Mina had posted a class photo, Sato was there as well. Damn, he probably ran so he wasn't late.

It was already dark, maybe you could order in. You didn't have much energy to cook anyway, Bakugou definitely wouldn't waste his precious time cooking for you anyway, you were 'a pain in the ass'.

'Ah, I forgot about Todoroki.'

The thought that crossed through your mind from earlier today had reached you again, Midoryia said that he wasn't out with family. Iida said that he had probably become ill, with his continuous efforts at school.

"Asana, should I message him?" You ask your cat, he wasn't going to respond. Either a meow or his ears twitching would be the response.

He was dead asleep. On your chest, curled ears twitching when you sighed deeply and looked at the name on your screen, 'Shouto'. He had a small emoji next to his name, thanks to your creativity of putting what their quirks were as emoji's.

After a long groan and thinking you fumble around messaging him quickly.

'Hey Todoroki, I was wondering how you are doing since you haven't been at school.'

Sent.

Fuck.

Squeezing Asana'a pretty white fur he responded back with a low purr. Three minutes go by, feels like forever and the embarrassment of messaging someone you don't usually message. Ah, this is shit.

Your phone lights up, the notification carxges your eye.

Shouto 🧊🔥

'I'm unwell.'

Dry text. As usual, it didn't bother you as much as it used to, he's gotten better since first year.

'Would you like me to get you something?'

You message back immediately, the heat rushing to your face.

Shouto🧊🔥

'Porridge and Orange juice?'

Was all he replied before you sat up, Asana jumping off and getting comfy on your bed, maybe you should change. Sweats and a singlet? Yep.

Grey pants and a black singlet was what you wore, bringing up a hot bowl of porridge and a carton of Orange juice that was in the fridge, wasn't yours but you'll buy another one for whoever complains.

He was on the fifth floor, wasn't a preference, you would complain if you had to go up five floors.

You reach his room that was labelled with his name, Todoroki. And you knock on the door, it was dead quiet. Usually you would be able to hear Jiro playing her instruments but she was gone as well.

The door clicks open and you see Todoroki, taller than you. His hair a mess and both of his hair colours mixing with eachother, he has showered. But he looks like a mess.

"Can I come in?"

You ask quietly and he covers his cough with his elbow, nodding and turning around so you can go inside his dorm. Very traditional, you saw it a few times while studying with Sero. He cleans regularly, but it's gotten messy since he's been sick.

There was a bucket next to his bed, has he been really sick? Maybe Gastro.

"Sit back down I don't wanna make you run around or something." You usher him back to his futon, you have the kindest expression on and aren't trying to push him around too much.

The room has a hint of sickness in it too, maybe you would get sick too. Oh well.

He sits down with his legs crossed and looks up at you, his face puffy and his hair still a mess, he looks like his gaze is a blur and you gently give him the porridge.

"Have you been eating?"

This is awkward, first you had to message him and now your stuck in his room, with him when he is sick. Your eyes wander and he eats the porridge slowly, blowing on the spoon a few times and switching off his phone. He nods to your question, responding back in a sick and croaked speech.

"Mhm, not much."

Your breath tightened, his voice was usually deepish and monotone but when he's sick. Jesus, gonna take the life outta you.

In less than a second that all changes when he leaps towards the plastic bucket beside his futon and gags profusely, throwing up the porridge he had eaten mere seconds earlier, his stomach trying to throw up on an empty stomach now.

You quickly make your way towards him and kneel down beside him, he puts a hand out to stop you but you move his hair out of the way. It had gotten longer throughout the years but your pretty sure he's been missing his hair appointments.

"Come on Todoroki! Why didn't you let us know." Grumbling beside his ear, he wipes his mouth before sitting back up again, washing his mouth out with the cup of water beside the bucket and spitting it into the bucket.

He goes to stand up, but you keep him sat down, giving him the carton of orange juice that you had brought earlier, were you holding that while keeping his hair out of the way?

"What are you doing?" He asks in the same groggy probably drugged up voice while watching you pick up the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the toilet in his room.

You look back at him, pushing the toilet seat up and pouring the foul substance into the toilet. Flushing it before closing the lid. "You need to rest. Your not getting up unless I'm gone."

Strong tone and using the shower head in the bathroom to rinse the bucket, you turn your head to see if he agrees.

"It's only a stomach bug."

"A stomach bug that makes you look like your about to die."

"Every illness makes you look like that."

"Your not getting up unless you need to go to the toilet. Your quirk is going to drain your energy so don't use that either."

He sighs, not wanting to argue and knowing you were kind of right, he hated to admit it but he actually liked that you cared for him like that. He had gotten used to looking out for himself but when his friends and classmates helped him he realised he also had to look out for others.

"Fine."

He couldn't help it however. He wasn't that sick, right?

You sit down beside him on his futon and look at the half eaten bowl of porridge, he was drinking the juice in hand and staring at you with those oh so beautiful eyes. But it's when he leans over and rests his head on your shoulder that makes you freeze.

"Thanks."

Was all he spoke before closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, you were confused as to why he had done so. Maybe he liked you? Is he clingy when he's sick?

You chuckle and pat his back, he was already relaxed into you but your physical touch made him melt, his body weight becoming evident on your body. So you use majority of your strength to keep sitting up, while adjusting to his weight.

His eyes were closed against you and his breathing became quieter and quieter until you almost could mistake him for being dead. It was soon you realised you were both breathing at the same pace. Did that always happen when two were so close?

Spotting a damp rag on the floor, you pick it up to feel if it is still cold, it wasn't. You couldn't move yet because he was practically attached to you. Jolting when you moved even an inch, so now you were laying down beside him on the single futon. His head against your arm and his arm along your waist.

This wasn't like him, for sure. Was he mistaking you for someone else? Your hoping he's not, cause whoever he would be thinking about like this. Wasn't you.

"It's cold." He speaks quietly, it's only then that you realise the chill in the air. It was already night? But the sun was up, you checked your phone that was sat in your pocket. Your eyes widen at the time. Two hours?!

Two hours had gone by and you could have finished this resume. You couldn't have wished for anything better, or worse? Todoroki Shouto was asleep on you, but you needed to finish this resume.

"Todoroki-"

"Shouto."

"Uh- Alright then. Shouto, I have to get this resume done."

He grumbled and geld onto you tighter, looking up at you, oh lord, he was adorable. Looking up at you with his opposite coloured eyes and pouting ever so slightly.

"Just do it in here."

"Ok then."

Why would you want to argue with him like that? You felt a sense of pity because he was sick, but also because he actually wanted you to stay with him? Your living a dream that you so desperately don't want to end. Maybe if he was well this would send you head over heels.

***

"Hey Todoroki! Where's [Your Name]?" Mina asks with her usual bubbly attitude, staring up at the taller boy with her 'raccoon eyes' as others have said.

Todoroki looks up from the book he was writing in, locking eyes with Mina, Asui was standing next to her with her frog-like tongue sticking out as he responded, scratching the side of his neck.

"She's not feeling well."

"What?!" Mina exclaims, her hands coming to the top of her pink curls quickly as she looked shocked. "She didn't even go anywhere! How did she get sick?"

"She came to visit me when I was sick." He replied back in a monotone speech and got back to writing whatever was on the board. Not knowing how excited Mina looked when she turned to Asui and giggled running off.

'Did I say something wrong?'

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This story is officially FINSIHED! I know I definitely lost some sort of motivation towards the end, I hate slowburns but I do say so myself. This is alright.

Proofread!

Thank you for all the support I have been getting! d=(^o^)=b

#mha #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha fluff #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha shouto

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stardroptasteslikesocialism · 5 months

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Say it Ain't So Part One

Gator has to face the music when his girlfriend turns his world upside down.

manchild!gator tillman x teacher!reader TW: Pregnancy, canon-appropriate violence, possible Fargo S5 spoilers.

Liberty Elementary School saw a lot more police presence after your first date with Deputy Tillman.

It was strange at first to the rest of the squad when Mr. Kick-Ass-Take-Names volunteered to cover school drop-off and pick-up times; a cupcake duty usually reserved for cops nearing retirement. And Gator wasn't exactly known for his concern for the wellbeing of children. But after seeing him make googly eyes over the new kindergarten teacher in charge of the car line, it made a lot more sense.

Things started to get serious between the two of you after a few months of back and forth during car line duty. He'd stop by your classroom during lunchtime, where you'd have an identical lunch packed for him. He'd rattle off stories about his morning that were most likely embellished to make himself sound cool. Still, you'd listen intently, trying not to get lost in those brown baby cow eyes of his. He'd feign interest in your morning with the "ankle-biters" as he dubbed them before heading back to his patrol.

You were keenly aware of the Tillmans' reputation. Sitting next to Gator in the front pew every Sunday Service led to many confused glances and jealous glares. Why on Earth would a teacher - arguably more educated than all of the Tillmans combined - seemingly settle for the high school has-been, nepotism man-child that was Gator Tillman?

But they didn't notice his look of adoration as you listened to every Sunday Service when the church's natural light hit the highlights of your face just right. They didn't see the Gator that made you laugh with his childish jokes and interests. They didn't hear the sweet nothings he muttered into your hair late at night, tangled in your sheets as you passed his vape between hits.

He made you feel beautiful; wanted, hell even needed.

The thought of possibly losing all of that terrified you. This was why the color drained from your face one particular afternoon when you heard a familiar knock on your classroom door.

"Mister Gator!" your students yelled in unison. They were enamored with the deputy.

"Mister Gator, is your gun real?"

"Have you ever killed anyone with it?"

"Can we see it?!"

The kids were relentless in their questioning of your boyfriend, who looked at you with panic in his eyes as the kids swarmed his legs. You rolled your eyes as he mouthed 'help me' before placing two fingers in your mouth and blowing your best Midwestern dad whistle.

"Hey! One, two, three. Eyes on me, kindergarten!" you shouted over the babble of 18 five-year-olds. You stifled a groan as all eyes fell on you, including Gator's, "Quit asking about Deputy Tillman's gun. It is for emergencies only and can only be used by him. Got it?"

The kids (and Gator) nodded.

"Good. Now, line up for lunch. You'll sit with Miss Julie's class today."

Gator heaved a sigh of relief as the kids lined up for lunch, chattering away. You felt his casted arm grace the small of your back.

"We need to talk," you whispered, ducking from his attempt to peck your cheek. You waited until the last kid was out the door before you locked it, leaving you and a confused Gator alone.

If a man could short-circuit, you'd probably witnessed it as you watched Gator freeze rigid, leaning against your Halloween-themed bulletin board.

An agonizing silence loomed over the classroom before Gator finally cleared his throat.

"H-how, uh, how long have you known?" he stammered, his fingers fidgeting with his vape. You could tell he was fighting every urge to give it a massive inhale in front of you.

You ran a hand through your hair and sighed, "I took like four tests this morning; all positive."

Gator mimicked your hand through his own hair, muttering fuck under his breath.

"Look, Gator I'm sorry," you shifted against the desk you were leaning on, "I definitely didn't plan on this, and I know this isn't exactly what you wanted, but-"

You kept rambling, but your voice was warped to Gator's ears like he was underwater; he was drowning. Drowning in the realization that he had fucked up; he royally fucked up again. Your tear-drenched pleading snapped him back to reality.

"Gator, please say something! I feel like I'm losing it, here."

Gator opened and shut his mouth multiple times before uttering a strangled "I - I don't know what I should say," God, his chest felt tight, "I don't know how to be a dad, Y/N. I'm already a colossal fuck-up in my dad's eyes. I don't want to fuck this up, too."

For the first time in his life, he was speechless; and it was happening at the worst possible time.

"Well, you're not off to the best start, asshole," you sniffled and wiped your nose on your bright cardigan's sleeve before glancing at your watch, "Kids'll be back in five minutes," you rubbed at your eyes, attempting to erase any evidence of your tears, "Look, my first appointment's on Monday. Come by if you want to. Or don't if that's what you want."

You turned your attention to the construction paper at your desk. As Gator turned toward the door, you called his name one more time.

You took a deep breath as he turned your way.

"There's no half-assing this; I can't have you half in and half out of this kid's life. It's all or nothing with me, Tillman. Don't come around unless you're ready for that."

Gator quietly nodded before entering the hallway and inhaling the largest gust of strawberry kiwi nicotine he could muster on the way to the patrol truck.

Gator spent the rest of his patrol mindlessly staring out the passenger window in an attempt to clear his head. But the longer he stared at the empty North Dakotan plains, the more his thoughts spiraled.

You were having his kid.

He was a boy in a man's skin; twenty-six, still in his childhood bedroom; still doing chores for his daddy. Before you blew into his life he was destined to live life under Roy Tillman's thumb, sniveling in the sheriff's shadow with nowhere to hide from the town's judgment.

You were having his kid.

And he dragged you into this, too.

Once Roy caught wind of his son knocking up a schoolteacher any semblance of freedom for you two would be gone. Roy would either use his connections and bribe you into agreeing to a back-alley abortion; or, he'd strong-arm you both into a shotgun wedding and life on the ranch forever under Tillman's watchful eye. No option sounded good.

Gator nodded at his partner, Alvie, as they neared a familiar gas station.

"Pull over here. I gotta take a piss."

Alvie obeyed, agreeing to fill up as Gator went inside. After taking a much-needed leak, he scoped the gas station for some much-needed snacks. After finding his goods he paused for a second before grabbing another pack for you. He wasn't sure if you'd even like them, but he figured the thought would count.

An eerie silence permeated the air as Gator climbed back into his passenger seat, tearing open his jerky packet with his teeth.

"Fuck, that's hot," he muttered as he struggled to open his Mountain Dew bottle with his casted arm. The heat rising in his lips made him regret his choice of snacks for you. He sat for a second in silence before glancing at his rearview mirror.

It was the image in the side view mirror that made him slide down in his seat in a panic before clambering out of the truck, service revolver in hand. Gator crept to the bed of the truck where Alvie lay dead on the pavement, a knife through his chest. Gator's pulse sped up and his breaths became ragged as he read the message attached to Alvie's bloody corpse.

You owe me. _______________________________

Thanks for reading! This is my first Tumblr fic and first Fargo fic, so any input is welcome. Stay tuned for part two!

#gator tillman #fargo season 5 #fargo

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dreamersbcll · 8 months

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Dreaming of something more

it’s career day in tara’s classroom. somebody has to show up.

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Sam found the permission slip in Tara’s folder long before it could get into the hands of their mother. It was stuck haphazardly out of her math folder, between the fives and sevens multiplication tables. Typical Tara. She wasn’t that organized for a seven-year-old, but then again, who was at that age?

She kept that permission slip in her pocket for the rest of the night, only risking taking it out once she was in bed. There wasn’t much privacy for Sam, even though her parents were always absent. Sam always had her little sister hanging off of her in some way. Besides, she had a carefully crafted bedtime routine for Tara. A busy little sister meant a little sister out of trouble and away from the hands of their parents.

Sighing, she opened the paper, trying to keep the rustling minimal. Tara was always a light sleeper, and their walls were thin. Unfurling the article, she moved it under her bedside lamp, reading the headline carefully.

WOODSBORO ELEMENTARY CAREER DAY

“Shit,” she swore softly.

Career day. She forgot that happened in second grade. Sam had gotten her best friend Piper’s dad to show up for her, and it all worked out alright. She didn’t have any inclination to become a plumber, though.

Deep down, she knows that this day mattered to Tara. Even if Tara didn’t bring the paper out and stick it to the fridge like she usually did with her work, Sam knew. She also knows that Tara still believes in magic, that moms can be good, and dads can stay around.

So that was settled. Sam wasn’t going to let her little sister see the world for what it could be; she was still going to make it seem like it was a blessing to wake up every day.

Gently laying the flier on the table, she laid back, her hands underneath her head. She had two days to make all the pieces fall into place.

Career day. What a stupid event.

——

Besides the last time she skipped school, Sam doesn’t remember ever being so nervous in her life. She had only cut one day this year, and that was when Tara had that fever that lasted all day. Other than that, she’s been squeaky clean.

Until today.

Sam tugged at her collar, trying to steady her nerves. She was in line with many parents, all wearing visitor badges. She had noticed the minute she walked into the front office that she was about twenty years younger and definitely sweatier than the grown-ups surrounding her. It’s not her fault. The middle school was a two-mile trek, and it was early fall.

Looking around, she felt dumber by the minute in her nicest dress. She spotted Mr. Freeman in his accountant suit and Mrs. Meeks-Martin in her realtor clothing. She waved nervously at Sheriff Hicks, who gave her an unimpressed look at her apparent hooky skills. Deep down, Sam knows she won’t get reported. Everybody in town knows about the Carpenter parents.

After what seemed like an eternity, the parents were led to the kids' classroom by a hallway monitor. Sam waited for all the parents to file out first, scampering behind the last adult to leave.

As they walked, Sam looked at the hallways fondly, knowing she had many happy memories at this school. And luckily for her, Tara had her second-grade teacher, Ms. Rudolph. It was like a family reunion.

One by one, the parents filed into the room, kids squealing and chattering enthusiastically as they spotted their mommy or daddy. Sam grew more anxious by the second, worried that maybe she wasn’t what Tara wanted. Perhaps she should’ve sobered up their mother or begged their father to stay home.

But her worries immediately disappeared the second Tara laid eyes on her. Sam scanned the room for the big brown eyes she knew so well and the pigtails she had braided this morning with the special purple ribbon she stole from Claire’s. Sam had never seen her little sister smile so big.

It was like Christmas, Tara’s birthday, and summer vacation all rolled into one. The pout forming immediately vanished, a toothless smile taking its place. If Sam listened closely, she could probably hear the quick, wheezy breaths that happened when Tara got excited. Skipping school and being drenched in sweat was all worth it.

Sam waved to her, trying to suppress her excitement. She had a job to do and couldn’t let her sister down. Tara was practically jumping out of her desk when she saw her big sister, her friend Amber, trying to push her back into her seat. It was a perfect moment.

She couldn’t ruin it.

—-

“Alright, kids! Now we will hear from Tara’s special guest- her big sister, Sam Carpenter!”

A smattering of applause broke out, and Sam smiled sheepishly, making her way to the front. As she walked past all of the parents, Mrs. Meeks-Martin gave her a thumbs up, and Sheriff Hicks mouthed Good Luck. Mr. Freeman didn’t look up from his phone.

Ms. Rudolph gave Sam a quick hug, turning back to the kids with her beaming smile.

“Everybody say hello to Ms. Sam!”

A chorus of Hello, Ms. Sam, echoed through the crowded classroom, Tara’s voice leading the charge. Sam smiled tightly, trying to even her breathing. She didn’t want to screw this up. This was important.

“Hi, guys. I’m Miss Sam, and today, I’m going to tell you what it’s like to be a big sister!” she shakily said, trembling.

Murmurs could be heard, some snickering from Amber. It didn’t matter. She had a job to do.

“I’m a big sister to the best little girl in the world, and it is the best job ever. Let me tell you about it!”

She had never seen Tara smile so big and for so long.

Afterward, the kids got to take pictures with their parents, and each pair got two copies of their photo. Two sisters, one in the arms of the other, their cheeks squished together. Sam smiled big, Tara matching with her eyes squeezed shut. Sam would take hers with her wherever she went.

It was the best decision young Sam had ever made.

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #ao3 author #AU: protect my heart #my writing tag #scream vi

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maithefluffychicken · 10 months

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Accidental Butt

Omegaverse au, alpha Steve Harrington, omega Eddie Munson.

The first rut is alway the hardest one.

Not that the sweet pup, Steve Harrington, with his tender age of twelve knows that. In school he has learnt that alphas go through ruts, meanwhile omegas go through heats, and that somehow that leads them to have their own pups some day. If he remembers correctly, the first mating cycle, the one that determines the secondary gender of the pup, it’s also important because it determines what kind of attitude the pup will develop as an adult alpha or omega.

Steve doesn’t realize that he’s going through this. His mom woke him up that morning and kissed his forehead, and frowned.

“Sweetie, are you feeling sick?” His mom asked then, Steve shook his head, even if he was feeling dizzy and clammy. “You smell different, stronger than usual, dear.”

Steve thinks he had realized that, too. He’s not used to this new scent of his, it was hard at first, he noticed a few days ago. As a pup, Steve’s scent was soft, milky like, with the tones of his mom’s flowery scent whenever she scented him. Now, it’s different. No more soft, puppy milk scent, but something more like his father’s scent: earthy, moss after rain, with a hint of smoke. It makes Steve’s head floaty, overwhelmed.

His mom, Mrs Harrington, watched him eat his breakfast with a concerned look in her pretty hazel eyes. The thermometer said the pup was fever free, but his cheeks were flushed and his eyes glassy.

“Why don’t you stay at home today, sweetie?” Mrs Harrington offered again, her voice low and worried. “You can play with your toys, or we can watch a movie…”

“I want to go to school, mom,” Steve sighed. He already felt like the walls of their home were too constricting, the huge kitchen seemed too small, and the pup wanted to kick his legs, to run, whatever.

“Let him go to school, honey,” his father, Mr Harrington, smiled knowingly, appearing in the kitchen and kissing the top of Steve’s head before kissing his wife on her lips. “Today is going to be a great day, right, pup?”

Steve simply nodded, having another pancake and some more slices of bacon, feeling ravenous still.

“But he’s going through his-”

“He’ll be fine, dear, he’s a Harrington!” The proud smile on his father’s face made Steve feel a bit more confident. “He already smells like a young, strong man, doesn’t you, son? Don’t you feel like the world is yours?”

To be honest, he’s been feeling full of energy for days now. Invincible even, depending on the day. He nodded again to his father, smiling softly, and Mr Harrington smiled at him,showing his white teeth and his fangs.

With a frown and a small talk with Steve’s teacher, Mrs Harrington finally left him at school, to her dismay.

And everything went down from there.

Steve is sitting by himself during lunch, moping alone because his friend Eddie is sitting with some other pups playing a board game Steve tried once but he didn't enjoy it. Sure, Eddie told him that it was ok, that Steve could enjoy sports and Eddie himself could enjoy board games and that they'll still be friends.

But now Eddie is having fun with some other pups, even if he asked Steve. Even if Eddie is still stealing glances, aimed where Steve is sitting, smiling at him.

It's kind of silly, Steve knows, but he really thinks his best friend Eddie has a pretty smile. He never realized before, but Eddie is kind of pretty himself. Steve doesn't know what makes someone pretty but he looks at his other friends and they're not quite like Eddie.

Tommy H has freckles, but his eyes are cold. Carol, well, she has nice hair and bright eyes and Tommy H thinks she's very pretty, but Steve thinks she's too mean to be pretty.

Steve knows Jonathan Byers said once that Nancy Wheeler was the prettiest pup. With her curly hair and big eyes.

Eddie has curly hair too, it frames his face nicely, and it's brown. His eyes are bigger than Nancy's, they make Steve think about dark chocolate coins.

Steve thinks Eddie is the prettiest pup, but he never says that out loud. He feels like Eddie will treat him weird if he ever dares to say something like that. Eddie claims that he's not a good pup, that he's trash, and that he's not pretty or handsome. So Steve keeps those thoughts for himself and watches Eddie.

That's it, until Tommy H and Carol appear and sit by his side with their respective lunches and very incisive comments about everyone, including Eddie Munson.

“I see your bestie is ignoring you again, Harrington,” Tommy H points, far too cruelly for Steve’s taste. “He found new friends and left you all alone.”

“Steve Harrington, sad little pup,” Carol singsongs then.

“We can be friends and not be together all the time,” Steve replies, gritting his teeth that, for some reason, are aching now. As if his fangs wanted to grow, or worse, as if he needed to bite.

Add that to the fact that he’s still feeling dizzy and hot all over, his body covered in cold sweat, and how much he misses Eddie now.

“Munson is not like… He’s not like Tommy or like yourself, he’s…” Carol prods, her thin lips tugging upwards in a mean smile.

“He’s what?”

“You mean, beside being a freak, a weirdo, a creep, and a trailer park trash pup?” Tommy H provides and Steve growls at him, his muscles tensing, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“I’ve heard that sometimes, Munson smells like… flowery, and you know what that means.”

Steve frowns. Flowery and fruity scents are more common between omegas, and yes, he has noticed that in Eddie: he smells like wild flowers most of the time, sometimes, when they’re alone and Eddie is feeling happy and open, he smells like ripe blackberries. Steve craves his best friend’s scent right now.

“That’s why we all call him The Freak, Steve,” Tommy says. “He’s a- He’s a boy, and yet he smells like an omega, Steve.”

Tommy H looks at him as if Steve were stupid.

“And what about it?” Steve snarls, slowly losing himself.

“Boys can’t be omegas, Harrington,” Carol laughs. “That’s so weird, and like, unnatural.”

“You can’t be his friend if he actually presents as an omega, Steve, that’d be wrong.”

“I don’t care about that!” Steve growls, his voice deeper than ever. “I don’t care if he’s an omega! We’re friends!”

Tommy H’s face changes, his cold, rat-like eyes narrowing and his smirk widening to a full grin.

“Your friend is a monster, maybe you’re a monster too, another creep-”

It all happens fast. Too fast than Steve isn’t sure how it really happens. Steve knows that he needs to stop Tommy H to keep talking, and the only thing that Steve thinks might shut up the pup is to punch him in his stupid, grinning face.

Of course, the pup attacks and Tommy H stops talking, his hands nursing his face and crying while Carol starts screaming and yelling for help. Steve feels like his whole body is scorching hot, his head still dizzy and his new scent, angry, reeking of burning woods, is again overwhelming him.

When Steve comes back to himself, he’s waiting outside the principal’s office, his parents are inside, probably discussing his punishment with principal Johnson and professor Clarke. Steve is hugging a black and red lumberjack shirt that doesn’t belong to him; he has it mashed against his face, inhaling deeply the familiar and comforting scent of wild flowers and blackberries.

He wishes he remembers when Eddie gave it to him.

The principal and professor Clarke have a small talk with him, with Mr and Mrs Harrington there too. He wouldn’t be punished, even if he attacked Tommy H and sent him to the nursery with a black eye, but he’ll have to spend a few days at home, with the promise that he’ll learn how to control himself during his ruts.

His first rut happened to him at school, in front of everyone. Eddie probably saw him if the pup somehow managed to sneak him his shirt with his scent. His first rut is happening right now, while his parents are driving him home, and he’s frowning, his eyes stinging with tears.

Everyone saw him go nuts and they all will know why. Everyone saw him leaving the school with his parents.

Steve thinks he won the right to say the F word, or at least, to think it.

Fuck.

“The first rut is always the hardest one, pup,” his mom tries to comfort him in the car. “No one is mad at you, these things happen, this simply means that you’re an alpha.”

“Of course no one is mad!” Mr Harrington exclaims, too happy to even try to hide it even if Steve punched another pup hours ago. “And don’t call him pup, dear, he’s now a man! An alpha! I’m so proud of you, son, you punched that Hagan pup, huh? What was he doing? I bet he was bragging about some stupid shit, just like his father.”

“Honey,” Steve’s mom puts her dainty hand over her husband’s arm, warning him.

“It’s all good, dove, it’s like alphas do, and our son is an alpha, a fierce one!” He says while parking the car. “Once your rut is done, Steve, we’ll go to celebrate your presentation and we’ll talk about your bright future.”

Steve doesn’t really feel like celebrating, but he nods and he lets himself be guided by his mom to take a bath that smell like lavender, and after thirty minutes of soaking in warm water, his mother helps him to his bed, with his summer pajamas on, unable to stand the flannel, winter one, even if it’s freezing outside.

“Your father is very proud of you, sweetie,” she says softly, caressing his son’s hair. “But you know, being an alpha is so much more than getting into fights.”

Steve nods while his mom covers him with the duvet. She simply sighs, a soft smile in her painted lips, and kisses his forehead.

“I know you’re tired and angry right now, Steve, sweetie, but I need you to understand one thing first,” his mom says, and Steve looks at her, confused and intrigued, while she stands up and grabs a notebook and a pen from his desktop.

She sits by his side on the bed again, and hands Steve the notebook and the pen.

“Tell me, what is great and divine and protects us all? Who is always looking for us from Above?” She asks her pup.

Steve feels hazy and he has a pounding headache, his whole body hurts, but this seems important. Steve frowns before answering, with a shaky voice, “God?”

“Exactly, write it down in your notebook, sweetie.”

Steve does as he’s told and writes G O D in his awful childish lettering.

“Good. Now write it backwards, please,” his mom tells him now, and he does.

“It says Dog!” Steve exclaims, excited even if he still feels terrible. It’s like a magic trick.

“Yes, my love, it says dog, and it shows the two faces of an alpha,” his mom explains to him. “An alpha can be good and kind and a protector. Or it can be a dog, a bad one, someone selfish and aggressive that never cares about anyone else other than himself. You must choose which one you want to be.”

Steve looks at her with his droopy hazel eyes, worrying his lower lip, thinking about what happened earlier at school.

“I- Tommy H was insulting Eddie, he was telling me that Eddie is going to present as an omega and that it’s weird and creepy, he called Eddie monster, and that’s what got me upset,” Steve says in a rush, fisting his hands at his sides and feeling that need to punch something again at the thought of Tommy being mean to Eddie.

“Oh, sweetheart, is that what happened?” His mom asks, concerned and wrinkling her nose at Steve’s burning wood scent. “I’m starting to think that Tommy H maybe deserved that punch, but still, you must learn how to control yourself, you can’t fight all the bad people.”

“Dad thinks I punched him just because I’m an alpha now, right?” Steve asks, lowering his head.

“Yes, love, I’m afraid so.”

“Can this be our secret, then? That I wanted to protect Eddie?” Steve asks, shivering, and his mother kisses his forehead one more time.

“If that’s what you want for now, sweetie, I won’t tell him,” she promises. “Now, try to sleep, dearheart, I’ll bring you dinner later.”

Steve’s first rut takes three whole days, leaving him exhausted and ravenous and confused. He almost destroys his own bedroom, not knowing what his body is craving, not knowing how to calm himself, crying himself to sleep and sweating, with Eddie’s shirt as the only thing that brings him comfort.

On the fourth day, when he’s already himself again, devouring everything his mom is cooking him for a late breakfast, his father enters the kitchen with the newspaper crumpled in his fist and a grin on his face.

“My son,” he announces, proudly. “I know the way for you to learn to control your newfound alpha impulses!”

“Boxing?!” Eddie asks, incredulous, later that day.

They both are hanging out together again now that Steve’s rut is over, sitting in the swings of the park. The cold air of the sunset makes them shiver in their coats, their cheeks apple red thanks to the wind.

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs.

“But you’re already doing all the sports at school,” Eddie points. “Isn’t that alpha enough for your pops?”

“Dunno, it’s different,” Steve argues, his fingers tracing the chains of the swing.

“Yeah, you’ll receive all the punches in your pretty face now,” Eddie says, angry, his scent turning rotten and making Steve wrinkle his nose.

Steve ignores the way the word pretty aimed at him makes him feel, ignores the way his own heart aches to call Eddie pretty, too.

“I’ll learn so I won’t receive all the punches, you know,” he retorts. “I’ll throw some nice hooks, too, I think.”

“Yeah? Why this sudden need to punch people now, Stevie?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve as if his friend has grown a second head during his rut. “Is this some alpha shit? Fuck, will I become a jock too when I present as an alpha?”

Steve looks at Eddie, heartbroken. He wants to tell Eddie that the main reason he accepted his father’s idea to join the boxing club is so he’ll be able to defend Eddie in the future. He wants to tell his best friend that he wants to be a protective alpha, for him. Steve really wants to tell Eddie the rumors about him, about his flowery scent, that maybe he’ll present as an omega and that Steve doesn’t care about it at all.

Steve wants to tell Eddie that his shirt, his scent, was the only thing that comforted him during his stupid first rut.

Of course, Steve doesn’t tell any of this to Eddie.

“Yeah, I guess that’s it,” Steve shrugs again, feeling lost and terrified about the future.

“Ok then, knothead,” Eddie grins at him. “I’m sure you love boxing, you’re already great at sports, this is going to be easy peasy for you.”

Steve smiles at him again, and when they both start swinging, it’s easy to ignore all the worries about being an alpha or about boxing or about his father’s expectations. It’s always easy when Eddie is right there with him, daring him to go higher and higher, laughing when they both fall from the swing.

It hurts, their knees are probably bleeding, but they’re pups and they’re enjoying the Saturday evening before they have to run home on their bikes to have dinner.

#steddie fanfiction #steddie #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #omegaverse #alpha beta omega dynamics #fluffy chicken writes #Accidental Butt fic

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strangerstilinski · 1 year

Text

SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter five

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

chapter word count; 7,830

chapter notes; amber forces a reluctant stiles to help her in the fight to keep derek alive after he's attacked by hunters.

masterlist

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c h a p t e r f i v e

magic bullet

Nearly a week passes without incident.

The end of the school day was drawing near and Amber found herself at her normal desk in World History sitting in front of Scott. The whole class was waiting as Mr. Browning dawdled around at his desk before passing out the graded tests they'd taken on Friday afternoon.

Scott was pinned between his friends, sitting in front of Stiles and behind Amber. He was being hounded from both directions with the questions that were eating away at them.

After the ludicrously brief recap Scott had given the two of them at lunch, summarizing the conversation he'd had with Derek several days before, they were desperate to know more. For reasons which remained unknown, Scott had kept the information to himself for nearly six days before he told Stiles and Amber what he knew about the mysterious and powerful Alpha that was desperate to get Scott to be a part of its pack.

"If Derek isn't the Alpha, if he's not the one who bit you, then who did?" Stiles leaned forward to whisper at the back of Scott's head.

Amber turned around in her seat to be a part of the conversation and rested her arms at the edge of Scott's desk as she peered back at her friends.

"I don't know." Scott answered briskly, avoiding eye contact with Amber even though she was hovering only a few inches away from him.

"So, did the Alpha kill the bus driver?" Amber asked quietly, tapping her pencil rhythmically on Scott's desktop.

"I don't know." Scott mumbled again.

Amber watched Stiles fall back into his seat with an adorable pout. The girl's eyes were drawn to his pursed lips as he drew his eyebrows together in a frown. He paused for a moment in thought before leaning forward again, "Does Allison's dad know about the Alph-"

"I don't know!" Scott shouted at his friends, drawing attention from the rest of their classmates.

The three teens all shied away from the sudden attention and shrunk back slightly in their seats. Mr. Browning raised an eyebrow when he made eye contact with Amber while dropping Stiles' test down onto his desk, continuing forward to pass out Scott and Amber's before moving on.

Amber looked down to her desk and smiled at the little red A at the top of the paper. She turned back around to face her friends and frowned when her eyes caught on the D- that marked the top of Scott's own test. She craned her neck to read the note their teacher had written to accompany the grade.

Not like you! See me after class.

Stiles seemed to do the same and he leaned forward in his seat with a grimace, "Dude, you need to study more."

Scott flipped his test over with a miserable sigh and slapped it facedown on the top of his desk. Amber took pity on him, patting his knuckles while she reached for the paper with her other hand. She flipped it over and skimmed through the incorrect answers to try and pinpoint what her friend was struggling with.

"That was a joke-" Stiles insisted when he noticed how upset his friend was, "Scott, it's one test. You're gonna make it up." Stiles reassured him, glancing up to where Amber was still skimming through the pages of Scott's test. "Do you want help studying?"

"You should study with Stiles and me," Amber said immediately, "Seriously. We're a force to be reckoned with when it comes to flash cards."

"No," Scott said, pulling his test from Amber's fingers and placing it facedown on his desk again, "I'm studying with Allison after school today."

Stiles raised his eyebrows at the information and grinned, "That's my boy."

"We're just studying." Scott insisted.

"Uh, no you're not." Stiles countered incredulously.

Amber frowned in confusion at Stiles but his attention remained focussed solely on Scott.

"No, I'm not?" Scott repeated in question, finally turning his head to glance at the boy behind him.

"Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you." Stiles pressed, "If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity, I-I swear to God I'll have you de-balled."

Amber laughed quietly, "What, are you going to castrate yourself, too?" She asked, tucking her pencil behind her ear.

"Huh?" Stiles asked dumbly, finally looking past Scott to catch Amber's eye.

"Well, I mean- We study together all the time, and you've never made a move on me." She pointed out.

Scott coughed quietly to cover a laugh and Stiles spluttered, "Wh- Well, that's different. Right, Scott?" He asked, leaning forward and punching Scott in the shoulder.

"Sure, dude." Scott agreed unconvincingly, "Just- Stop with the questions. All right, guys?"

"Done." Stiles acceded, "No more questions. No more talk about the Alpha or Derek. Especially Derek-" He finished quietly, "Who still scares me."

Amber was still frowning from Stiles' previous comments and she avoided his eyes as she turned to face forward in her seat again. She was aware that Stiles wasn't attracted to her — Of course the two of them were different from Scott going to study with Allison.

The girl felt silly for having attempted to make the joke at all.

She shoved her test into her folder dejectedly and pulled out her notebook, moving to write the date at the top of the page and pausing to frantically search her desk when she couldn't find her pencil. Amber huffed, shuffling her things around in frustration for a minute before Scott leaned forward, gently touching the hair tucked behind her ear. She turned slightly in surprise and deflated when she saw him holding her pencil out over her shoulder.

"Right," Amber sighed quietly, grabbing the pencil from her friend's outstretched hand. "Thanks."

Scott patted her on the shoulder, giving her a soft squeeze in understanding before he retreated. Amber took a deep breath. She seriously needed to get her feelings for Stiles back under control.

The weather was unusually warm for the end of January, even in central California, so Amber had told Stiles earlier in the day that she planned to walk home after school. Having cut out of class a few minutes early to go to her locker and pack up her bookbag, she was pulling it over her shoulder and making her way through the deserted hallways on the main floor when she heard familiar voices talking around the corner. She slowed and waited just out of sight, frowning in confusion when she heard Derek's voice.

"-I asked you politely, and I only do that once." He was saying in a low voice.

"Mm, okay, tough guy," Jackson's voice said smugly, "You know, how about I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him? What is it? Is it, uh, Dianabol? Huh? HGH?"

"Steroids." Derek huffed when he put the pieces together from Jackson's tirade.

Amber thought back to the argument she'd overheard the tail end of between Jackson and Scott in the hallway before tryouts a few weeks before. She was finding it hard to believe that Jackson was this desperate to get some sort of boost for something as simple as high school lacrosse.

She deduced it had to be Scott that they were looking for, but she couldn't imagine why Derek would show up at school in order to find him.

"No, girl scout cookies." Jackson snapped sarcastically, "What the hell do you think I'm talking about? Oh, and uh, by the way, whatever it is you're selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."

There was a moment of silence before Derek spoke quietly, "I'll find him myself."

"No, we're not done here-" Jackson started before there was a loud bang of something slamming against the lockers.

Amber jumped and rounded the corner to see what was going on. Jackson was leaning up against the lockers, breathing heavily and gripping at the back of his neck with a terrified look on his face. They made eye contact for only a moment before Amber rushed past him to where Derek was moving down the hallway.

"Derek! Wait-" She called out, catching up quickly and moving to stand in front of him. He slowed and leaned his weight into a corner wall that was hidden away slightly by another set of lockers. When she saw his face, her heart dropped. Derek's skin was sickly and pale, his face covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look deathly ill. "Jesus, what-" Amber reached up to touch his damp forehead and flinched at the heat radiating off of his skin. She'd never felt a fever running so hot.

"Need to find Scott." Derek said shortly, blinking slowly and swaying on his feet, pressing himself more firmly against the wall.

"Okay, yeah, I-I think he's still here- Can you like, use your wolfy hearing and figure out exactly where he is or something?"

Derek closed his eyes and breathed deeply, furrowing his eyebrows as he focussed. Amber was silent for a long minute as the werewolf listened but the bell signaling the end of the day suddenly rang out loudly directly above their heads. Derek recoiled and scrunched his face up in pain, reaching his hands up to cover his sensitive ears.

Amber winced in sympathy and when the noise ceased, she took his hand, frowning at the dampness that suddenly coated her fingers. She glanced down and found that not only were his hands clammy with sweat, but there was blood dripping down from beneath the sleeve of his jacket and it covered their interlocked hands.

"What-" She started to ask but was interrupted.

"Find. Scott." He said simply, holding her hand tight enough that it hurt for a moment before his grip loosened.

"Okay, okay." Amber acquiesced, quickly pulling him through the growing crowd of students and toward the front entrance.

Derek stumbled when they stepped out into the sunlight, reaching up to block his eyes and nearly tripping over his own feet. Amber repositioned him so that his arm was draped over her shoulder and she gripped his bicep and waist tight as they stumbled down the stairs and toward the parking lot.

Amber looked up from where she'd been watching their feet for tripping hazards and swore under her breath. A familiar blue Jeep was whipping out of a parking spot and began to drive away just as the two were breaching the row of parked cars.

"Stiles!" Amber called out as she dragged Derek out in front of the moving vehicle.

The tires of the Jeep squealed as Stiles slammed on the brakes and Amber couldn't help but flinch. She jostled Derek in the process and sent them both toppling over and crashing to the ground when she refused to let go of him.

The car behind Stiles in line to leave the parking lot began honking their horn loudly and Amber struggled to tug her arm out from underneath Derek's back. When she finally freed herself from beneath his weight, she gripped his upper arms and pulled him to sit upright, settling a hand at the top of his spine between his shoulder blades.

"What the hell?" Scott's voice called out to Stiles through his open window as the tanned boy ran up to the scene.

Stiles and Scott both rushed around the front of the car where Amber was watching Derek's pained breathing worriedly.

"Thanks for not running us over," Amber panted in exhaustion from carrying the werewolf. She looked up at Stiles as Scott dropped to the ground in front of them.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked Derek.

"I was shot." Derek breathed out, brushing Amber's hand off the place where it was resting on his left forearm.

"You were shot?" Amber squeaked, reaching out to his feverish forehead again in a panic. A fever meant an infection, and an infected bullet wound didn't mean anything good.

"He's not looking so good, dudes." Stiles observed slowly.

"Why aren't you healing?" Scott asked frantically.

"I can't." Derek said, breathing heavily, "It w- It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked with far too much enthusiasm for the situation.

"No, you idiot." Derek glared.

"Hey, you didn't exactly give us notes on werewolf weaknesses-" Amber started before Derek's glare turned on her, "But now's definitely not the time to be thinking about that. Right."

"Wait, wait-" Scott cut in, "That's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours."

"What?" Derek and Amber both said at the same time, "Who- Who said forty-eight hours?" Derek asked breathlessly.

"The one who shot you." Scott replied.

"You knew Derek was shot?!" Amber asked angrily, glaring at her friend.

Derek suddenly gasped and flinched back, blinking his eyes rapidly. Amber's own widened in surprise when she saw his eyes glow a bright, luminescent blue.

"What are you doing?" Scott scolded worriedly, "Stop that!"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you- I can't." Derek hissed, fighting to control his shift.

"Derek, get up!" Scott demanded.

"Yeah, we've been trying that, Scott." Amber snapped, "He's pure muscle and weighs about seventy pounds more than me. So, a little help would be appreciated."

Scott sighed and moved quickly to stand at Derek's back, "Help me put him in the car." He told his friends, putting his hands under the injured boy's arms and beginning to lift him up.

Amber went to Derek's front to steady him once Scott got him to his feet. The two teens moved him toward the passenger side of the vehicle while Stiles hovered close by. Amber climbed across into the center seat and waited as Scott lifted Derek's limp body to fall into the spot beside her.

"I need you to find out what kind of bullet they used." Derek told Scott once the car door was closed.

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"She's an Argent- She's with them." Derek told him.

"Why the hell should I help you?" Scott asked angrily.

"Scott, what the hell is your-" Amber scolded, leaning over Derek only to be held back by his arm as he interrupted her.

"Because you need me." He told the boy outside the vehicle.

Stiles finally rounded the Jeep, climbing back behind the wheel and getting the car started again as Scott answered, "Fine. I'll try." He looked across the car toward Stiles, "Hey, get him out of here."

Stiles scrunched his face up in annoyance, his eyes flicking between Amber and Scott, "I hate you both for this- So much." Despite his words, he reached for the gear shift and put the vehicle into drive, stepping on the gas pedal and speeding out of the parking lot.

The three drove in silence for twenty minutes before Amber spoke, turning toward Derek beside her, "So, why do you need Scott to figure out what kind of bullet it was?"

Derek took a deep breath, leaning back against the headrest, "Because I can't heal unless I know exactly what was in it."

Amber nodded, tapping her fingers against her thigh. "Let me call Scott and see if he's found it yet." She clicked on her friend's contact and waited as it rang through to voicemail. "Let me try again," She mumbled, furrowing her eyebrows as she glanced toward where Stiles was driving with a scowl on his face. The phone rang several times again before Scott's voicemail sounded through the speaker.

"Just text him." Stiles suggested, glancing down at the girl beside him and drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

Amber did as she was told and sent Scott a text message to ask him if he'd found the bullet. She tapped her phone rhythmically against her thigh as her nerves swelled. Both Derek and Stiles reached out to stop her movements at the same time, Derek's hand landing on her right knee and Stiles' covering her fidgeting hand with his own.

The girl watched in amusement as Stiles glared across the car, flicking Derek's hand away before taking Amber's hand in his own again and muttering something about werewolf paws under his breath. Derek growled quietly but remained otherwise unmoving.

They drove several more minutes in silence before Derek began to shift in his seat, struggling to remove his leather jacket. Amber pulled her left hand free from Stiles and dropped her phone into the seat between them. She reached over to help slide the jacket down over the injured boy's arms, tossing it into the backseat when they had successfully gotten it off.

Derek sighed painfully and leaned back into the seat again as Amber's phone pinged with a text message. The girl jumped as she fumbled for her phone and went to read it.

Need more time.

Stiles read the message over her shoulder and they both sighed in frustration as Amber tucked the phone into her pocket.

"Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, okay? We're almost there." Stiles sent an annoyed glare at Derek.

"Huh?" Amber questioned, looking up at the boy beside her in confusion.

"Almost where?" Derek asked with his eyes closed, looking as if he were about to fall asleep.

"Your house." Stiles stated as if it should have been obvious.

"What?" Derek finally looked up and opened his eyes, "No, you can't take me there."

"I can't take you to your own house?" Stiles clarified in disbelief.

"Not when I can't protect myself." Derek explained obviously.

The Jeep suddenly swerved, veering to the side of the road. Amber reached out to steady herself by gripping the knees of the boys on either side of her. Stiles slammed on the breaks and parked the car on the curb, turning the car off before turning to face them.

"What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hm?" Stiles demanded, "Are you dying?"

"Oh, god. Are you dying?" Amber asked again, turning to Derek with wide eyes.

"Not yet," He told them with a shaky breath, "I have a last resort."

"What do you mean!" Stiles shouted in frustration in the small car, "What last resort!"

Instead of answering, Derek slowly pulled up the long sleeve of his shirt and revealed a deep bullet hole in the flesh of his left forearm, still oozing a slow stream of dark blood.

"Jesus." Amber gasped at the wound, reaching out to his arm before she caught herself and dropped her hand into her lap.

"Oh. My. God!" Stiles yelled before gagging, "What is that? Oh, is that contagious?" He asked, flinching away and closing his eyes, "Y'know what? You should probably just get out."

"Stiles." Amber berated, peering closer at the wound and the dark veins that were creeping out along Derek's skin.

"Start the car. Now." Derek ordered.

Stiles scoffed, "I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

Amber's head whipped around to scowl at her friend but before she could say anything, Derek spoke.

"Start the car. Or I'll rip your girlfriend's throat out."

"I don't have a girlfriend-" Stiles corrected in confusion.

"I'll rip Amber's throat out." Derek clarified.

"Hey!" Amber cried out in offense, turning to face the werewolf fully and leaning back to press herself up against Stiles' in the tight car.

Stiles ignored Amber and paused. He put a hand on her arm and turned in his seat, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny at the sickly werewolf before responding, "No you won't."

"Fine. I'll rip your throat out." Derek amended darkly, "With my teeth."

Amber turned her head and watched as Stiles' eye twitched before he seemed to decide that Derek would, indeed, be willing to rip his throat out with his teeth. Stiles made a face, releasing Amber before he proceeded to turn the key in the ignition and pull away from the curb.

After several minutes, Amber looked around them and perked up slightly before she spoke, "I spy something dark and depressing."

"Derek." Stiles guessed immediately and without enthusiasm.

Amber narrowed her eyes at her friend until he glanced over at her and saw her glare, "No."

Stiles sighed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, "I don't know, was it one of the, like, ten abandoned businesses we've driven by?"

"I- Yeah," Amber slumped into her seat, crossing her arms over her chest as her eyes flicked around the vehicle, "Oh! Okay, I spy something orange."

Stiles' gaze moved to her for only a couple seconds before returning to the road, "It's your nail polish- Which is not orange, by the way."

"It's orange-ish," Amber defended, looking down at the peachy shade of fingernail polish she'd painted over the weekend.

After twenty seconds, Stiles sat up in his seat excitedly, "I spy something-"

"Will you two. Shut. Up." Derek said slowly with a sigh, not bothering to open his eyes or lift his head from where it was resting against the side of the car.

Amber and Stiles both shrunk back into their seats with a sigh. The girl shifted her body until she could comfortably rest her head against Stiles shoulder as he drove without impeding on his ability to reach the gear lever. She quietly alternated between watching the road and watching Stiles' fingers as his hands moved along the steering wheel.

After that, they drove around town in silence for a long while before Amber suddenly had a realization.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news on an already bad day but, uh- We should probably stop driving around downtown where someone could see us."

"I'm no longer a murder suspect." Derek said quietly, eyes closed again as he took deep breaths.

"Oh, no, it's not that- Just, Allison sorta thinks you and I broke up, so if someone were to see you and me and Stiles all piled inside the Jeep-"

Derek's head snapped up with a murderous expression as Stiles spluttered incoherent noises on her other side.

"I'm sorry- Let's back up- Allison thinks you and Derek were dating?" Stiles asked incredulously, a look of dismay on his face.

Amber grimaced, "Well, not dating so much as hooking up-"

"What." Derek spoke darkly.

Amber sighed, bouncing her leg nervously, "It's not as bad as it sounds, I just- After we got the ride home on the full moon, Scott told her the two of you weren't friends, right? And instead of being terrified, she managed to put these puzzle pieces together in her head and she thought that we were hooking up and so I just- I didn't tell her she was wrong?" The expressions on the boy's faces didn't improve and she barreled on, "I told her I wasn't going to see you anymore after that and she just sort of dropped it- So, I figured it would be fine-"

"I changed my mind," Derek said breathlessly, eyes closing again, "I want to rip your throat out too."

"I'm sorry!" Amber wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, "I honestly didn't think it would ever come back to bite me in the ass- Or, in the throat, I guess."

Derek's face twitched in what might've turned into a smile before he schooled his expression again. "Go to the south side of town," Derek commanded quietly, "Warehouse district- Just, avoid any roads near the preserve."

Stiles muttered something about not being a chauffeur but still flicked on his turn signal and took a side street that would lead them south.

"Let me see your arm again," Amber said, pulling her right leg up underneath her and turning to face Derek fully. She took a good look at his face and noticed dark circles beneath his eyes that had emerged at some point in the last hour.

Derek hesitated with a frown before he pulled his sleeve back up and held his arm out toward her. The dark veins that trailed out from the bullet hole seemed to have grown in size where they curled up his forearm.

"Okay, it definitely looks like it's getting worse." Amber announced, brushing her fingers featherlight over the darkening skin around the wound. "We- We should tie it off or something to slow the infection spreading, right? Like a tourniquet?" She asked, looking back and forth between the boys.

"I have no idea what could possibly treat-" Stiles glanced over at the wound again and gagged, "-that."

Derek's only response was a grunt that Amber decided to take as a sound of approval. She leaned over the back of the seat to rifle through the mess behind them and re-emerged with a dirty tshirt that had been in the backseat for an unspecified amount of time.

"Hey! That's my shirt-" Stiles protested.

Amber turned her head with a glare, "Stiles, I swear to God-"

"Uh, I was kidding- It's totally cool- I-I don't like that shirt anyway." Stiles feigned nonchalance, glancing over at them briefly before returning his eyes to the road, "In fact, I hate it. I would like nothing more than to see it covered in- Whatever the hell that is, leaking out of him."

"Great." Amber smiled sarcastically before turning back to the passenger side of the vehicle, "Any chance you can wolf-out and rip this for me with a claw or something?" Amber asked, shying back when Derek gave her an unimpressed look, "No? Okay, that's fine. I can totally rip it myself."

Amber pulled at the fabric at the bottom of the shirt as hard as she could and only succeeded in stretching the material. She went with another approach and bit down on the edge of the fabric between her teeth before tugging, but the cotton remained relatively unharmed.

"Okay, they make this look unrealistically easy in movies." She sighed, flexing her sore jaw and continuing to pull with all her might at the fabric in her hands.

Derek lifted his head and reached across with his right hand to claw a small hole into the fabric before taking a shaky breath and dropping his head back against the metal doorframe.

With the shirt torn, Amber managed to rip a strip away from the bottom easily until she had a long strand of the cloth. Placing it around Derek's forearm just below his elbow, she wrapped it around a couple times. She pulled the fabric as tight as she could manage, apologizing when Derek winced in pain, and tied it off in a knot.

The group continued to loop around through the abandoned roads and alleyways on the southern edge of town. They drove long enough that the evening light gave way to darkness without any sort of update from Scott.

Amber sighed and reached up yet again to place the back of her hand over Derek's sweaty forehead, "You keep getting hotter." Amber pointed out worriedly.

"Figures," Stiles mumbled, "Even on the brink of death he's attractive."

"His fever, Stiles." Amber said in exasperation.

"Oh, right, yeah."

Amber rolled her eyes and settled back into her seat again, reaching into her pocket to pull out her phone. The screen was bright against the dimly lit car when she clicked it on and she put the call on speakerphone as it rang through to Scott. It had been hours — He had to have found something by now.

Stiles pulled the Jeep over to a stop at the side of the road and leaned against the driver's side window as the phone rang.

"Yeah?" Scott answered the phone casually.

"Scott, Jesus Christ. What is taking so long?" Amber asked frantically.

"What. Are we supposed to do with him?" Stiles asked their friend loudly, glancing over at Derek who was looking paler than ever.

"Take him somewhere- Anywhere." Scott's voice cut through the phone speaker.

"And, by the way, he's starting to smell." Stiles announced, scrunching up his nose on an inhale.

Derek lifted his gaze to scowl across the car and Amber frowned at her friend's comment, but she couldn't deny that it was true. Even with the windows down, the smell of rotting flesh was starting to spread throughout the confined space.

"Like-like what?" Scott asked in confusion.

Amber took the call off speakerphone and brought the phone up to her ear to speak quietly into the device, "Like death."

Stiles grabbed Amber's hand and moved to hold the phone out between their ears, pressing their heads closer together so they could both hear through the speaker.

"Okay," Scott said after a moment, "Take him to the animal clinic."

"What about your boss?" Amber asked.

"He's gone by now." Scott assured her, "There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster." He told them.

Amber sighed and Stiles blew out a breath, "You're not gonna believe where he's telling us to take you." Stiles told Derek, relinquishing the phone to Amber.

Derek opened his eyes when Amber held out the phone and brought it up to his left ear for him. He took a shaky breath, "Did you find it?"

"How am I supposed to find one bullet?" Amber heard Scott hiss quietly through the phone, "They have a million. This house is like the frickin' Walmart of guns."

"Look," Derek said, "If you don't find it, then I'm dead. Alright?"

Amber gulped, biting down hard on her lower lip as she watched Derek take a few shallow breaths.

"I'm starting to think that wouldn't be such a bad thing-" Scott muttered down the line and Amber's face pinched tight in anger at her friend.

"Then think about this," Derek cut him off, "The Alpha called you out against your will. He's gonna do it again. Next time you either kill with him or you get killed. So, if you wanna stay alive- You need me." He said slowly between breaths, "Find the bullet."

The call ended abruptly and the car was silent for a moment before Stiles started the engine again and headed in the direction of the Animal Clinic.

When they parked at the clinic, Stiles went ahead of them to search for the key hidden behind the dumpster. Derek threw open the passenger door and tumbled out of the car clumsily, cradling his left arm to his chest. Amber followed after him and hovered at his right side with a hand on his back, leading him toward the metal roll-up door at the back of the building.

Stiles unlocked the latch at the bottom of the door and pushed it upward, revealing the storage room as his phone pinged with an incoming text message.

As soon as they entered the room, Derek threw himself down to sit on a pile of dog food bags. The feverish sweat on his face glistened in the fluorescent lights of the back room and the purple smudges under his eyes appeared darker against the white paleness of his skin.

Stiles pulled out his phone and read the message on the screen before addressing Derek, "Does Northern Blue Monkshood mean anything to you?" He recited.

"It's a rare strain of wolfsbane," Derek announced with a sigh, "He has to bring me the bullet."

"Why?" Stiles asked, handing over his phone when Amber reached for it to read the name of the poison written on the screen herself.

"'Cause I'm gonna die without it."

Stiles and Amber both looked up at Derek with wide eyes before glancing at one another. Amber chewed on her lip, handing Stiles' phone back to him and moving to help Derek stand from his makeshift bench. She resumed their position from earlier in the day, throwing Derek's uninjured arm over her shoulder this time and supporting as much of his weight as she could while Stiles unlocked and opened doors for them.

Pushing into the main exam room, Amber stumbled and Derek's free hand reached out to Stiles' shoulder for support as they tumbled through the doorway.

"Okay-" Stiles said, shaking off the werewolf's hand and flicking on the overhead lights.

Derek pulled away from Amber and began peeling his shirt over his head. He swayed over to the metal exam table in the middle of the room and rested his injured arm across the top. It was still bleeding and the dark purplish-black veins trailing from the wound were thicker, but they had only spread a few centimeters past where the tshirt was tied tightly around his arm.

"Y'know, that really doesn't look like something some echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of." Stiles joked nervously from the opposite side of the table.

"Yeah, I'm sure some herbal tea will fix it." Amber said sarcastically, slapping Stiles on the arm when she reached his side.

"When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me." Derek panted, beginning to search around the room for something. He pulled drawer after drawer open and shut in his hunt.

"'Positivity' just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asked, rubbing at his arm where the girl had just hit him.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time- Last resort." Derek said breathlessly, pulling open yet another drawer.

"What kind of last resort?" Amber asked anxiously.

Derek emerged from his search, alarmingly, holding up a small electric saw, "Stiles is gonna cut off my arm."

Amber looked at Stiles in fear and saw the look of dread on the boy's face. She reached out to grip the open end of his plaid shirt in her fist and swallowed past the lump in her throat.

Derek slid the saw across the metal worktop toward Stiles and Amber watched as he picked it up to examine it with a frightened look. The boy pressed the trigger and the saw whirred loudly, causing the two teens to jump.

"Oh my god." Stiles whined, dropping the saw back down onto the table. "What if you bleed to death?" He questioned with wide eyes and Amber nodded in support of the question, also worrying about the possible outcome.

Derek was untying the cloth around his arm, putting one end between his teeth and pulling at the other to get it secured even tighter, "It'll heal if it works," Derek told them around the fabric in his mouth.

Amber's stomach was turning nauseatingly and Stiles sighed, shaking his head in distress, "Ugh," He groaned, "Look, I don't know if I can do this." Stiles admitted weakly, leaning on the table and watching Derek re-secure the tourniquet.

"Why not?" Derek asked in annoyance.

"Well," Stiles started, voice raising in pitch, "Because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!"

Amber fought to keep from gagging at the comment about cutting through bone. Her mind flashed to the image of Laura Hale's body. The way the severed opening had exposed the sliced bones, organs, and muscle inside.

Derek's voice broke her out of her thoughts, "You faint at the sight of blood?" He asked Stiles in disbelief.

"Well, he might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" Amber defended, raising her voice.

"Alright, fine." Derek sighed, "How about this, one of you cuts off my arm, or I'm gonna cut off your head." He finished, shifting his gaze toward Stiles.

"Derek, c'mon-" Amber started before being interrupted by Stiles.

"Okay, y'know what? I am so not buying your threats any-" Stiles gasped when Derek pulled him roughly over the table with a tight grip on the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my god, Derek, I'll do it! Okay, I'll do it-" Amber yelled, rushing around the end of the table and moving to Derek's side to remove his hand from Stiles' shirt.

Derek was breathing hard. His chest heaved with every inhale and Amber gripped his hand where she still held it after pulling him off of Stiles.

"What- What are you doing?" Stiles asked, eyeing the man worriedly.

"Der-" Amber started.

Derek suddenly keeled over and vomited an inky black liquid onto the cement floor, small drops splattering onto the white of Amber's sneakers.

"Holy God!" Stiles gagged, peering down at the bile covering the floor and Amber's shoes. "What the hell is that!"

"Are you okay?" Amber questioned in concern. She gripped Derek's hand tight and watched as he took in gasping breaths where he was still leaning over the side of the table.

"It's my body- Trying to heal itself." Derek panted.

"Well, it's not doing a very good job of it-" Stiles announced through a gag.

"Oh, god." Amber gagged as the smell of the black bile reached her nose.

"Now," Derek breathed, glancing up at Amber, "You gotta do it now."

Amber gulped, bouncing on her toes anxiously, "God, okay. Give me a minute-"

"Just do it!" Derek yelled at her, causing the girl to flinch.

"Okay! Okay!" Amber yelled back, grabbing the saw in her shaking hands. She put it against the skin just below the man's elbow with a nervous whine. She felt Stiles move to stand behind her and grab her hips, hiding his face in her hair at the spot between her neck and shoulder.

"Here we go-" Stiles said loudly into her neck, tilting his head up a fraction of an inch to peek through the curtain of her hair.

Amber looked at the way Derek's face pinched in preparation for what was about to happen, his jaw clenched tight. The girl yelled out a loud whine one final time, her finger twitching on the saw's trigger just as she heard Scott's voice calling out from the front of the building.

"Stiles? Amber?"

"Scott?" Amber croaked out in a shaky voice, looking up toward the doorway.

"What the hell are you doing!" Scott yelled from the front of the room as he took stock of the situation.

Amber gasped a relieved breath and dropped the saw from her shaking hands and onto the metal worktop with a loud bang.

"Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares." Stiles informed him, rubbing his hands up the girl's waist and smacking a kiss to the hair at the back of her head.

"Did you get it?" Derek asked from where he was still sprawled across the tabletop.

Scott reached into his pocket and handed Derek a large bullet for a rifle. Derek held it up under the light and looked at it, eyes blinking heavily.

"What are you going to do with it?" Amber asked, leaning closer to examine the ordinary-looking bullet.

"I'm gonna-" Derek started, swaying on his feet, "I'm gonna-"

Derek's legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground, the bullet hitting the floor with an echoing clink.

"No! No, no, no, no-" Scott rushed after the bullet as it rolled away across the floor.

Derek hit the ground on his back and Amber rushed to kneel down beside him. His chest didn't appear to be rising and falling with his breaths and Amber whined in distress. She leaned over his face and placed the shell of her ear to his lips, both feeling and listening for his breathing. After a long moment, no air had exited his mouth to puff against her ear and the girl cried out, interlacing her fingers together and pressing the ball of her hand into the center of his chest to begin compressions.

Stiles immediately kneeled down beside her, "What are you doing?" He asked worriedly.

"I don't think he's breathing," Amber choked out, her eyes heating up with warm tears as she thrust her body weight down onto her hands. She couldn't tear her gaze away from Derek's pale, lifeless face.

"Derek?" Stiles called out to the man uselessly.

After a round of compressions, Amber reached down to tilt Derek's chin up with one hand, plugging his nose with the other before bringing her mouth to his and blowing in two hard breaths. When the werewolf didn't immediately move, she began compressions again, sniffling as she pressed into his chest as hard as she could.

"He's not waking up!" Stiles called out to Scott, reaching out a hand to rest on Amber's lower back as she rhythmically thrust her weight down onto Derek's limp body, "I think he's dead!"

"Just hold on!" Scott yelled back.

Amber leaned down and repeated the next step, bringing their lips together and blowing into Derek's mouth twice. On the second breath, Derek spluttered and coughed, tilting his head to the side to choke on a choppy breath.

"Oh my god." Amber cried in relief, pulling at his naked shoulders to get him sitting upright.

"I got it!" Scott called out from across the room.

Stiles helped Amber pull Derek up from the ground and release him to lean his weight heavily onto the worktop again as Scott handed over the bullet for the second time. Derek clenched the shell casing between his teeth and separated it from the bullet, tapping the shell against the tabletop and pouring out what looked like tiny dried bits of herb.

They all watched as Derek pulled a small lighter out of his pocket and lit bullet's filling with the flame, causing it to spark violently and sizzle for a few seconds before burning out. Derek collected the ash, sweeping it into the palm of his right hand. He clapped his hand over the open bullet wound and groaned. He dug his finger into the small hole to press the ash inside with a pained scream.

Amber flinched and her hands shook, wanting to reach out and help. She watched with wide eyes as Derek continued to yell out in pain, collapsing back onto the floor. The muscles in his body tightened and flexed as he writhed in agony. Amber took a step forward, moving to kneel beside him but Stiles wrapped a hand around her shoulder to stop her, pulling her back against his chest.

Derek's next scream turned into a low animalistic growl partway through as he arched his back in pain. He fell silent after the growl subsided and they all watched as the dark veins receded toward the bullet hole before that slowly healed and disappeared as well.

"That- Was. Awesome!" Stiles yelled from behind Amber, "Yes!"

Derek slowly began to pull himself up onto his feet again and Amber moved toward him freely this time, helping him to his feet. She gripped his arm in her hand as she examined the place where the wound had been a few seconds before.

"It's gone." She whispered, brushing her fingers over the smooth skin.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked in surprise.

"What, except for the agonizing pain?" Derek said while sending a scowl at the boy and gently pulling his arm out of Amber's grip.

"I'm guessing the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health." Stiles said playfully, flinching back when Derek sent him an unimpressed glare.

"Okay, we saved your life, which means you're gonna leave us alone! You got that?" Scott suddenly yelled at Derek.

"Scott-" Amber cut in defensively.

Scott continued, loudly speaking over her, "And if you don't, I'm gonna go back to Allison's dad and I'm gonna tell him everything-"

"Oh, you're gonna trust them?" Derek asked, "You think they can help you?"

"Well, why not? They're a lot freaking nicer than you are!" Scott snapped.

Derek looked between Scott and Stiles in genuine surprise before nodding, "Yeah, I can show you exactly how nice they are." He told Scott.

Scott seemed to deflate a little, "What d'you mean?" He asked in confusion.

"C'mon," Derek commanded, nodding toward the door and grabbing his shirt from the counter behind him to pull it back on.

Scott and Stiles stormed out of the exam room but Amber hesitated, "Derek, wait-" Amber pleaded with a frown, "You're really just, okay now?"

"I'm fine." Derek agreed, "I'm healed."

"I- Okay," She let out a breath she felt like she'd been holding for hours.

They moved out of the room and toward the back entrance where they'd first come in. When the two reached the rolling door that led outside, Derek reached up a hand and rested it on her shoulder.

"Thank you," He told her quietly, applying pressure as he squeezed her arm.

"I was scared," Amber admitted under her breath in the hopes that her friends wouldn't be able to hear her from where they were standing beside the parked Jeep. Her mind flashed back to the image of Derek's lifeless face as he layed on the cold floor of the exam room.

"I know," Derek said softly, "But you did good."

Amber smiled a small, grateful smile at the man in front of her, flinching when Stiles threw a dark object between them. Derek caught it easily before it could hit him in the face and he fisted the leather jacket in his hands for a second before pulling it on. He turned toward Scott, nodding his head to the side in a signal.

"I'll talk to you guys later on." Scott promised them before turning to leave with Derek.

Amber and Stiles climbed into the Jeep and the girl began to buckle her seatbelt, listening to the sound of keys jingling as the boy went to start the car. Just as she clicked her buckle into place, Stiles' voice suddenly cut through the quiet.

"Y'know, for the record- I don't think you should kiss Derek ever again."

Amber sputtered, "W- Stiles, I didn't kiss him."

Stiles glanced at her with pursed lips as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road, "You were lip locking, open-mouthed," He shivered exaggeratedly, "It was kissy-enough."

"I was giving him CPR- He wasn't breathing!" Amber laughed incredulously, turning to lean against the window and face her friend in the dark car.

"Yeah, yeah." Stiles dismissed, "No more of that either, then. Next time Derek stops breathing, just let me punch him in the face or something."

Amber laughed, "In literally what universe would that be helpful?"

Stiles shrugged, "I think it could've worked."

Amber snorted and reached across the car to shove at his face playfully.

"Hey! Hey- No hitting the driver!" Stiles laughed, slapping her arm away, "If I crash this car, you're explaining to my dad that it was all your fault."

Amber rolled her eyes, "Deal." She agreed, tilting her head back to rest sideways against the seat as she watched the calming motions of Stiles driving her home.

"So, what top secret information did Derek want to give you?" Amber asked from where she was dangling off the edge of her mattress. Stiles was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed and her head hung over the side to rest on his shoulder.

Amber eyed Scott's upside-down form where he was still hovering in the doorway to her bedroom.

"Derek thinks the Argents set the fire that killed his family." Scott told them, entering the room to flop on his back on the bed beside Amber.

"Wait- What?" Scrambling to sit up, Amber kicked Scott in the shoulder in her haste before settling on her knees to look at her friend with wide eyes.

Stiles turned to face Scott in intrigue as well, leaning to rest his arms on the mattress, "He said what, now?"

Scott sighed, "He brought me to see his uncle, the one that survived the fire." He explained, eyes glued to the ceiling, "He was awake but like, completely comatose- In a wheelchair and covered in these burn scars-"

"So, he's not a werewolf?" Stiles asked, "He couldn't just heal?"

"He was," Scott corrected, "At least that's what Derek said. I'm not really sure why he couldn't heal, he didn't explain it. Just- Insisted that the Argents were the ones who started the fire."

"Oh my god," Amber mumbled, sitting back on her heels, "That- That's awful. His whole family... Died."

"Derek said some of his family that died in the fire were human, too. That the Argents were trying to kill all the werewolves but they just killed everybody, regardless."

"Well, shit." Stiles said miserably.

"You guys, what am I supposed to do?" Scott asked in a whine, "I really like Allison- And I don't think she knows about any of this- She couldn't."

Amber and Stiles looked at one another with matching frowns. Neither of them had any idea how on earth they were meant to deal with the fact that Allison's family murdered ten innocent people.

#stiles #stilesfic #stiles stilinski x oc #selenophiles #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #dylan obrien fanfic #dyaln o'brien #1x04 #teen wolf fic #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf season one #*

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littlewriterfullofwords · 1 year

Text

Dream

Pairing: Andy Strucker x fem!reader

Summary: Andy and Y/N used to be together, but after Andy joined the Inner Circle, and Y/N found a way to make her spy-plan work, they weren't on a good hand

Reader description: Y/N is a mutant who as a kid used to train with Lorna. She saw her as an older sister and when she grew up Lorna was her best friend. Y/N can control temperature, that's why she can create a snow, and controls sound.

Warnings: fluff at the beginning, little angst at the end

A/N: I saw a post where someone (@thorpeobsessed) reblogged another post asking for Andy Strucker fanfictions. So here I am.... Please enjoy and tell me if you find any mistakes

Ps. Probably will write more with Andy and for sure with Xavier and with Percy because I'm fucking obsessed with all three of them^^ Masterlist

Your giggle filled the night world, making boy next to you also laugh. His eyes were following your fingers as they were moving, making snow fall on your hand. The snow you've created out of the pouring rain.

"We need to come back inside." you whispered as you looked at you two, totally soaked wet. "Your mum will be mad at me for keeping you out in a rain. At night. I am dead. I need to say goodbye to everyone."

"I will protect you." Andy ran his fingers through your hair and smiled at you with admiration in his eyes. "Don't worry about her."

"My knight." you laughed as you moved closer to the boy, your lips almost touching, only to quickly get up and look at the brown haired from above. "Let's go, knight. Or you will get ill and I will have to protect you."

"Ay." Andy followed your move up and chuckled as you again dodged him and his kiss. "Don't tease me."

"Or what, mr von Strucker?" you laughed as you disappeared for a second behind a column. "Should I be scared?"

"I don't know, should you?" Andy suddenly appeared in front of you with his unique smile you loved so much and this light in his dark eyes. "Are you scared?"

"Not at all." you tiptoed to reach his lips with yours, your eyes closed along with his as Andy's hand moved to the side of your neck and rested there.

The kiss was gentle yet passionate, full of unsaid words, not shown feelings....

And that was only a memory...one of many you had, but the one which you have been recollecting the most these days when you were observing now white haired Andy with a new chick, Rebecca, going out together as you were babysitting Dawn.

You weren't the member of the Inner Circle, but you somehow managed to get them to let you stay as a babysitter. It's not like it wasn't your plan from the beginning.

"Hi. Is she okay?" When only you heard the door, you wiped out your tears as fast as possible so Lorna who came in wouldn't see them.

"Yeah. She's sleeping." you looked at the baby and faked a smile. "She's so lucky to be your baby."

"You were once mine as well." Lorna reminded you of times when she had been your teacher, older sister and best friend, when you both had been fighting arm by arm against Sentinel Services. "I still see you as my little sister. But siblings part, that's life. And those...those are our paths. Those are our choices."

"I know." the cradle swung slightly once or twice under your touch. "I know."

"We will be back late." said Lorna before she kissed her baby's forehead and left the room.

You've never tried to leave the building...why? You didn't have the answer for that question but when the Inner Circle, without Sage and Esme, left, you started thinking about it. I mean, you had this weird bracelet but it's never done anything. It for wasn't like those collars in the prisons everyone had been talking about. Nothing could actually go bad, right? You decided to try that out. I wouldn't call that sneaking out, but it was like sneaking out...

"I am going to the kitchen...for a snack." you informed two left women in the operation room as you headed to the stairs and went downstairs.

When you were sure no one was around, your only way out of the building was an elevator. And that was your mistake. As soon as you touched the button to call the elevator, the bracelet on your wrist electrocuted you and knocked on the floor.

"Are you going somewhere?" Reeva, Andy and Lorna came out of the elevator.

When the white haired boy saw you on the floor and in pain he immediately knelt by your side.

"Y/N." he whispered and tried to help you get up. "Are you okay?"

"Get away from me!" you yelled and with your powers, a tunnel of sound, you pushed him few meters away. "Go to your new girlfriend. She needs you more than I do."

"You see what you get from trying to leave." Reeva squatted next to you and pointed at the bracelet. "It presses two arteries on your wrist...if electrocuted enough, they can knock you out easily. The sensors in the buttons activate the bracelet...you can't leave. Lock her somewhere."

"But Dawn needs her." opposed Lorna.

"Then lock her in your room." Reeva walked pass everyone and headed upstairs.

Andy got up from the floor and looked at still curled up girl with sadness in his eyes. They used to be close...now it all was gone.

"Let's go." Lorna grabbed you by arm and helped climb up to the next floor. "I don't want to lock you down. I really don't. I will have to."

"Then do." your voice was cold like the snow you could create. "I won't hurt, Dawn. I am not that evil. The windows are unbreakable. I won't kick out the door. Don't worry, I will stay."

"Can I talk to her for a second?" asked Andy before Lorna locked the door. "Please."

"Come in."

The green haired woman closed the door behind the boy's back and let the two of you have some space.

"What do you want? Your girlfriend left you or you did that first?" little Dawn's eyes met yours as you were swinging her cradle peacefully.

"Are you jealous?" Andy made a step closer but you stopped him by turning your head his way...your eyes were cold and empty, like if you were dead.

"Jealous? Hah. In your dreams." you shook your head. "You left me because of this 'amazing plan the Inner Circle has'. Really? And when I kind of joined it, I found out you got yourself a new girlfriend. Amazing. You moved on fast."

"You are jealous."

"Not jealous, disappointed." your voice became softer, calmer, quieter. "Hurt. I can go on, but why? You don't care anyway. Tell Rebecca that I pity her. Now leave. Dawn needs to sleep."

#ff writer #andy strucker #andy strucker x reader #andy strucker the gifted #the gifted #the gifted ff #ff #Spotify

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novelizt · 5 months

Text

Not yet done with the Lockwood Hogwarts AU so here's a snippet from the Folklore: Peace songfic I was working on as an apology 💙

On occasion, Lockwood forgot that there were people who lived outside of the psychical realm. It's all he'd ever known, really. So, it's like stepping into a whole new world when he had to do something as typical as getting flowers before visiting the cemetery.

Ardour Flower Shop was arguably the best place to get flowers. The owner, Mr. and Mrs. Valentine, had serviced flowers for Lockwood's parents and sister's funeral way back when. All for free.

Even if they made it clear that he didn't owe them anything, Lockwood made it a point to only ever visit them if he needed flowers.

The week before, he had become an adult. He thought it was right to visit his family and tell them how he felt about it.

He ducked under Ardour's striped awning and smiled when the golden bells above the door jingled. Mr. Valentine appeared at the counter in an instant, donning a smile that could put the world at ease.

"Anthony, how are you son?"

Lockwood hummed, allowing his eyes to take in the floral arrangement Mrs. Valentine changed every week.

"I'm doing alright, Mr. V. How are you and the missus?"

"Happier," the older man chirped. He had a pep to his step and more lucid eyes. "What can I get you today?"

"Hyacinths and lavender, as usual," Lockwood shoved his hand into his pockets to begin counting his coins. "What's happened this week to make you this smiley?"

Lockwood looked up from his countings and found Mr. Valentine fetching the flowers. The man looked softer somehow. The Valentines were always soft, but Lockwood could feel something special in the air that day.

Mr. Valentine fetched a foot of twine, brown paper, and white plastic wrapper before he answered. "Our daughter's come home."

Lockwood tried not to look surprised, but he was doing a rather bad job of it. He'd known the Valentines since he was ten, and he had no clue that they had a daughter.

He cleared his throat to push down the guilt. They had done so much for him, but he didn't know that important of a fact until then.

"Really?" Lockwood chuckled, finding his sense. "How long has she been away?"

"Nine years," Mr. Valentine sighed, like he couldn't believe it had been that long. "She's a scholar. Been traveling all over the place since her mentor took her under her wing."

Lockwood raised his voice when the crunch of plastic Mr. Valentine was wrapping around the hyacinths echoed in the little shop. "That's . . . a surprisingly long time. You must be enthralled that she's finally home."

"Not 'finally' just yet."

That's when Mr. V's hands slowed by a fraction. He had gotten tangled in his thoughts. Lockwood had never seen the man falter in the many years he had known him. To say that the hiccup was concerning was putting it lightly.

"Why is that?" Lockwood asked. Nine years of just study . . . he assumed that would make you a genius.

Mr. V smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "She's only here for half a year before she has to resume her studies."

"I see," Lockwood turned the coins in his palm, unsure of what to say next. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't worry yourself, Anthony. We're used to it, she's used to it. All I'm concerned about is her lack of enjoyment. Her teacher is a dementor, if I'd ever seen one." Mr. V wrapped up the lavender twice as fast, returning to his usual level of chipperness. "She's your age, you know. You've got George and Lucy with you. My girl doesn't have friends like that."

"Shame..."

"I know," Mr. V grinned even wider as he slid the finished bundles across the counter. "I was thinking that you could do me a favor, son."

Lockwood took the brown paper and plastic bundles before placing his money in Mr. Valentine's hands. "Anything, Mr. V."

Mr. Valentine deposited the cash into the register before turning to Lockwood will full-fledged attention. "Could you make friends with my girl? Just while she's here. I want her to feel normal. And don't tell her I asked. She's just like her mother in that sense — stubborn, refusing to accept help. It's cute, but they're too hard-headed for their own good sometimes."

Lockwood righted his smile, nodding lightly. "Will do, sir."

"I'll hold you to it then," Mr. V set his elbows on the counter, waving Lockwood goodbye. Before the bell jingled once more, he added, "She'll be manning the store on Friday!"

"I won't forget!"

#i have so many ideas i don't know which to prioritise lol

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turtleedovee · 2 years

Text

Everybody Wants to Rule the World

Chapter One: Some Cupid Kills with Arrows

Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been obsessed with this boy and so decided to write a fic about him :)) this is a series so i’ll see when i’ll upload. once i’ve finished i will post it all on ao3. i have the first 3 chapters done so i’m hoping i can write more everyday but we’ll see! if you wanna be tagged lmk— I REALLY REALLY HOPE THIS DOESNT TURN INTO A FIX IT FIC FOR EDDIE

taglist: n/a

Word Count: 1.7k

Snippet:

There was no way she would be able to help Eddie Munson, he was practically incapable of learning anything academic. He spent most of his time in class sleeping or doodling in his notebook or just not showing up.

People called him Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, while she wouldn’t go that far it was hard to not think poorly of him, he didn’t exactly give off welcoming vibes.

She didn’t know what she was going to do. If he failed again who knows how this will affect her grade; but there was no other way to get around.

She sighed and stuck her head inside her locker, grabbing the notebook she needed. She threw her locker door shut when suddenly a face that wasn’t there before appeared behind it.

“Hi there.”

Eddie Munson.

“Ms. O’Donnell you can not be serious?” Her voice going shrill.

“Oh I assure you Miss. (L/N) I most definitely am.”

She scoffed, not being able to believe what her teacher was asking of her.

“So let me just get this straight: you’re asking me to tutor— oh no, sorry not tutor but tame Eddie Munson? The same one who failed your class two times before?”

Ms. O’Donnell never looked up from the worksheets she was grading, “That’s correct dear.” She sighed and took off her glasses and rested them on her chest, “Look I’ll be perfectly frank: Mr. Munson is a good boy. He just lacks the dedication and all he needs is… a push in the right direction.”

“More like a bulldoze.” (F/N) mumbled under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose she made one last final ditch attempt to try and get out of tutoring the un-tutorable.

“Isn’t there anyone else who could do this? You know what my schedule looks like.”

“You’re one of my best students (F/N)! I know you can do this.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Well let’s just say that your participation grade in my class might be affected if you refuse to cooperate.”

She groaned.

“Eddie is your classmate. If you refuse to help him then you are in clear violation of my syllabus and I’ll have to hold you accountable.”

(F/N) huffed, there was no way she was getting out of this.

“Fine.” She stood up from her chair and began making her way out of the classroom, feeling as if she just made a deal with the devil.

“Oh good!” Ms. O’Donnell grinned, “I’ll have Eddie get in contact with you.”

She gave her best fake smile, and let the door to her room slam shut.

————————————

She threw open her locker, slightly flinching at the sound it made as it collided with the other lockers around it.

People called him Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson, while she wouldn’t go that far it was hard to not think poorly of him, he didn’t exactly give off welcoming vibes.

She didn’t know what she was going to do. If he failed again who knows how this will affect her grade; but there was no other way to get around.

She sighed and stuck her head inside her locker, grabbing the notebook she needed. She threw her locker door shut when suddenly a face that wasn’t there before appeared behind it.

“Hi there.”

Eddie Munson.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” She flinched.

He stood there, leaning against the wall of lockers, a lazy smirk plastered over his face, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He wore a leather jacket and paired it with a denim vest, his long curly brown hair hung just below his shoulders.

“Woah you kiss your mother with that mouth?” He crossed his arms over his chest, the assorted rings shone across his nimble hands.

She sent a glare his way, “Not funny Munson.” She started walking away and much to her disappointment, he followed after her.

“So, a little birdy told me you’re the lucky lady who’s gonna tutor me.”

“I wouldn’t use the word lucky but sure.” She kept walking trying to keep her eye rolling to a minimum.

“Ouch. Who knew the princess of Hawkins High would be so snarky.”

“Look Munson,” She turned on her heel to stare directly at him, she jabbed her finger at him, “I’m only doing this because Ms. O’Donnell was on my ass about helping you out, I’m not here to play games or babysit you; so if you’re not gonna take this seriously don’t waste my time.” She turned around but not before looking back at him, “And don’t you ever call me princess again.”

She didn’t notice the look of disbelief on Eddie’s face, nor did she notice how he rolled her eyes at her.

“Look, you think I wanted this? I didn’t want a tutor but teach said it was the only way for me to get a passing grade.”

“Well then I guess we’re stuck with each other.” She spat.

They both made their way to the front of the school and she sighed, she knew she had to make some effort to help him out.

“Listen, I was being serious about what I said: I’m not here to babysit, if you’re not gonna take this seriously tell me now.”

“Hey, I am serious about this.” He put his right hand over his heart, “Scout's honor.”

She rolled her eyes, “Whatever. Let’s plan a schedule,” She sat down on a nearby bench, crossing her legs and pulling out her planner. Eddie followed suit and leaned back and sprawled over the bench.

“I have debate team on Mondays and I work Tuesdays and Thursdays, which leaves me,” She looked meticulously over her schedule, she didn’t realize how spread thin she would be adding this to her schedule, “I can tutor you Wednesdays and Fridays after school. If you need it I can—”

“Woah woah— gonna have to stop you right there missy,” He leaned next to her, a little too close to her, “Fridays are no good, I have Hellfire club.”

“Hellfire?”

“Yeah you know, we play D&D. I got my big campaign coming in a few weeks and I can not miss any of the meetings.” He looked over her shoulder pointing at the Fridays listed in her calendar. She glanced down and looked at his shirt, a form of the devil with long horns, a pair of dice and two assorted weapons.

“Ok sure, but we’re going to need to meet more than once a week if you want any chance at passing.”

“Aw have a little faith (L/N).” She sent him a glare, “Fine, I’m good for weekends.” He said with a defeated tone.

(F/N) hummed, “I work weekends but you can meet me after my shift ends.”

“Great.” Faux enthusiasm laced Eddie’s voice.

“I don’t like this either Munson, but like it or not we’re stuck with each other so get all of your complaining out of the way now.”

“Yeah, the freak being paired with the priss of all of Hawkins, gotta be the start of some sick joke.”

“Okay just so you know ‘priss’ is not a step up from princess, so I’d say you lose the nicknames.”

“Or what?” He taunted

Oh was he really trying to play this game

She wasted no time grabbing a fist full of his Hellfire shirt and pulling him directly into her eye line, “Keep up with those nicknames and I swear to god I will knock your ass into next Tuesday so fast you won’t be able to walk straight for a month.”

He smirked, “Are you threatening me? Because I gotta be honest, Little Miss Wise Ass doesn’t scare me.”

“No, don't worry, this isn’t a threat. It’s a promise. I got a lot riding on this tutoring gig Munson so you better not fuck me over.”

He scoffed, despite her tight hold on his shirt he sat upright, towering over her, “Well it’s good to know I have that power over you.”

She growled, roughly letting him go she turned to a blank page in her notebook and began scribbling in it. She tore out the page and shoved it to his chest.

“Here’s my info, meet me at the library tomorrow after school, don’t be late.” She walked to her car, already late for work.

“Wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart!” He yelled back at her, and watched her make her way to her car and drive off. He uncrumpled the piece of paper she shoved his way and looked the information

(F/N) (L/N).

He chuckled, shoving it in his pocket he made his way through the parking lot and into his van.

This was gonna be fun.

————————————

“I am going to kill Eddie Munson.” The cash register dinged, allowing her to count the money they made during the last couple of grueling hours. Since it was a Tuesday they weren’t that busy but that didn’t mean that the customers that did come in weren’t terrible.

“Sounds like fun weekend plans” Robin quipped as she put back returned VHS tapes.

“I get that he’s the town freak but why exactly do you wanna kill him?” Steve entered from the back, stocking up on the latest releases.

“He just…” She groaned, picturing his stupid face and his stupid antics, “Ms. O’Donnell is making me tutor him so he can finally pass her class and graduate.”

“Isn’t that like your thing though?” Robin asked.

“What is?”

“You tutor people? If you hadn’t saved my ass in chem last year I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“She’s not wrong about that.” Steve mumbled.

“It wouldn’t be so much of a problem if he wasn’t such a pain in my ass.”

“I hear he’s actually not that bad of a dude.” Steve interjected.

“Seriously? And what reliable source gave you this information.”

“Henderson,” Dustin Henderson? (F/N) looked at him puzzled nodding for him to continue, “He’s in that stupid Hellfire club. Apparently Eddie is his Dungeon Master?— I don’t know it's nerd stuff.”

“Stuff you should be well acquainted with Mr. Harrington.” Robin joked.

“Hey I don’t need this from you, I’m tired. I'll see you two lovely ladies on Thursday.” Steve grabbed his bag and saluted the two of you as he left the dimly lit Family Video Store.

“He’s not wrong,” Robin heaved, lifting the box of returned tapes and putting them in the back, “Maybe you have Eddie pegged wrong. I mean we used to think Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington was an asshole.”

“And we were right.” (F/N) continued.

“Yes, great point, however, he’s not an asshole anymore!” Robin grinned, allowing for (F/N) to chuckle.

“I guess you’re right.” She looked at the pile and the rest of the store, “We’re all good here?”

“Yup! See you tomorrow, good luck taming the untamable.” Robin shouted in a spooky voice.

On the car ride home she thought about what her friends said. Maybe he wasn’t that bad, and if Steve can second hand vouch for him well then what was the worst that could happen?

A/N: lemme know what you think!

#strangerthingsseason4 #stranger things #season 4 #stranger things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #enemies to lover #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #everybody wants to rule the world

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landslided · 30 days

Note

What are your headcanons for Laura Lawrence 👀

GREAT QUESTION, ANON!!! i have many!

blanket statement of these are my personal headcanons which are obviously not gospel truth and don't need to be agreed with, these are just what i believe/enjoy writing about for laura lawrence.

TW: alcoholism, abortion, cancer.

i think laura was a teen mom; i think she had johnny around seventeen with a guy who was just passing by and her parents threw her out.

she didn't graduate and she got her GED. she was very very good at math and kind of wanted to become a teacher before she got pregnant.

i think she had a kind of holistic, surfer girl, live-with-the-waves vibe and she and johnny went to the beach A LOT when he was a kid because it was free to just walk around and swim.

she had lots of little jobs before meeting sid. johnny's best memory is when she was working at an ice cream parlor. she had a whole baby blue uniform and the owner was really nice.

when she met sid, he promised her that she'd be able to go back to school, maybe even go to university when they got married. quite quickly she found out he was lying.

she developed an alcohol problem four years after her marriage to sid.

around the fifth year into her marriage with sid, she found out she was pregnant and got an abortion in secret. a few months later she told sid she had to go visit an old relative in atlanta and that she'd be back soon, instead, she went to san franciqco and got a hysterectomy.

her full name is laura jean lawrence, i know the show wants me to think her maiden name was brown and that lawrence is the name of some mysterious guy but i refuse <3 johnny has his mother's name because i said so.

she was a huge rock n roll fan, all of johnny's tapes were her's first.

she was very isolated in the hills: she didn't relate to anyone in the country club and she had the bad reputation of being a gold digger. she lost track of johnny's life around that time because of the alcohol and she was never really able to pick it back up afterwards.

she went to johnny's first-ever tournament but after seeing him bleed on the mat, she settled by giving him some money for milkshakes with his friends afterwards and ironing his gi herself.

her only friend was sid's maid, an older woman named georgia who was the only person in the world who knew that laura had to get her stomach pumped three times.

the cobras all called her laura and not mrs weinberg. she liked dutch the most even though he was the most troublesome.

johnny didn't tell her about what happened in the parking lot with kreese up until sid saw the paper stalking about the accident and told her. she cried for a full day, locked in her room. the next day, she went by the cobra kai dojo at night, aware that it had already closed, and threw a brick through the window.

she sporadically sent johnny money after he moved out until she got sick and sid started making the checks.

she got liver cancer when she was 52, it all went very very fast.

she wasn't the best mom in the world; johnny made her a saint in his mind after her death but she was short-tempered and prideful. she was also loving and funny and creative, she had good sides and bad sides, like every living being.

i like to think robby looks like her a lot.

#laura lawrence #*asks

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fushigurro · 1 month

Note

10 and 20 with sugawara, please

SUGA MY BELOVED!!! thank u lo these are a lovely <333 i apologize in advance for not being able to shut up

10) Describe your first date.

oooh okay that's a good question. of all the things i've thought about, i haven't put a ton of thought into the first date!!

tbh i feel like it starts off as something pretty basic—grabbing lunch or whatever on the weekend and maybe walking around to shop a little bit or sit outside to enjoy the weather before it gets too cold (we meet in the fall). but we're just sort of chilling and chit-chatting when suga notices this kid all alone looking confused and distressed, and being the incredible man that he is, he approaches her, gets down on her level, and asks if she's alright. she says no, she got separated from her mother, so suga then goes into helper mode.

we start walking around to try and find this girl's mom, and suga is of course handling it way better than i am because i'm still not so great with kids at this point. i'm doing my best to be helpful and solve the problem, but he's the one talking to her and helping her stay calm, asking her questions and being reassuring. he know she looks familiar—a kid from another grade at the school he teaches at—so he says some stuff like "hey, you're in first grade, right? who's your teacher? i'm mr. sugawara from second grade! i think i've seen your mom pick you up from school before." etc. etc. because he's a fucking angel man who's keeping this little girl from losing her shit. it's so incredible and i feel kinda awful because he's better at it than me and why would he want someone who's awkward with kids?? but i'm smiling and trying my best!!!! the girl is feeling somewhat comfortable at least

once we finally find her mother, he turns to me like "sorry about that. thanks for helping—i can't believe you managed to spot her mom like that." and i'm just like akfjsofijaweiof why are you thanking me omg you were the star of this show you are too good for both me and this world. i tell him it's not a problem at all and i'm glad he jumped in to help because i remember how scary that feeling used to be as a kid. then we start telling stories and connecting again until we lose track of time!!!!!!!!! meanwhile i can't believe he's real and looking at me with the most beautiful, sincere brown eyes

20) Choose one song that perfectly describes your relationship.

oh my lord……. this is tough. funnily enough i haven't done playlist stuff for us yet, but i will do my best to think of a song until i sort out the vibes!! (i will now be agonizing over this for days to come btw)

…for now i'm gonna go with breathe by faith hill <3

selfship asks

#letters.#ss: kōshi #i love him ur honor i'm mentally ill

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i-think-i-did-it-again · 2 years

Text

Detention buddies (p1)

He doesn’t even know you exist. At least that’s what you tell yourself. You hide behind your locker door as Colson turns away from his group of friends, a serious look on his face. Even if he wasn’t 6ft 4 he’d still stand out with bubblegum pink hair, excessive tattoos and handsome face. You’d been watching him for 2 years, now both in your senior year of high school.

You’d transferred from a private school when your parents split and your mum brought you back to her hometown, where there is only one high school, completely taking options out of the equation. You didn’t mind much because it wasn’t like you were the most popular girl at your last school and you weren’t here either so the adjustment wasn’t too hard. You have your small group of friends and to you, that’s all you’ve ever needed.

“You’re staring again,” your best friend Mandy whispers beside you.

“I don’t stare, I merely observe,” you mumble and turn your attention back to the contents of your locker. She’s snorts and you roll your eyes.

You pull out your supplies for English class and tell her you’ll catch up with her, during your free period, in the library. She waves a hand in your general direction and you take that as confirmation. You trudge begrudgingly to your English class.

You don’t hate English. It’s the only class that you and Colson share. The only thing that makes it a chore is that it’s also the class with the world’s dullest teacher. There’s nothing wrong with Mr Mueller as a person but god, you think he could find some way to spice up his lessons. According to your mum, he’s been there since she was a senior and his classes sucked the same then as they do now.

You find your seat in the second back row and fling your bag over the back. You pull out your worn copy of To Kill A Mockingbird and your notes from the assigned chapters you were required to read the night before. You didn’t really need to read them as you’d read the book more than a few times but you still always discovered a new layer each time you read it. Colson strolls passed you without even looking in your direction and takes his assigned seat behind you. You can tell he immediately pulls out his phone because you can hear his thumbs tapping on the screen.

“Ok, settle down people,” Mr Mueller calls from the front.

He’s a short, stocky man with a balding head and thin, round framed glasses. He’s always wearing the same brown tweed jacket and blue dress pants. He has a friendly face but he is always, always sweating. He begins roll call as your classmates find their seats. One of Mr Mueller’s big rules is assigned seating. He tried to have Colson sit at the front but given his height, no one could see over him so he had to place him at the back. You can still hear him typing away on his phone and occasionally chuckling to himself.

“Mr Baker, I’m pretending I don’t see that phone but if it doesn’t go away in the next 10 seconds, I’m confiscating it and you can retrieve it from the principal’s office after detention this afternoon,” Mr Mueller scolds as he scowls at the phone in Colson’s hands.

“Yeah well, what’s new?” Colson scoffs and you smirk slightly.

“Miss Y/L/N, I take it from that smirk on your face that you’ll be joining Mr Baker in detention?” Mr Mueller’s eyes zero in on you.

“You’re going to punish Y/N for obvious understanding of my quick wit? Seems a little harsh, even for you sir,” Colson defends you before you can even open your mouth.

You’d be thinking of some way to defend yourself if your mind wasn’t so focused on the fact that Colson knows your name. That means he knows who you are. How does he know who you are? Has sitting behind you for the last year had some sort of impact on him? Maybe you’re not as invisible as you think. You suddenly realise that everyone’s eyes are on you, waiting for some sort of response. You know that no matter what you say you’re getting detention so why not commit to the moment.

“I’m sorry sir but if you’re going to punish me for having a sense of humour, I can only assume that stems from a jealousy at your own humourless life,” you mutter, staring directly at him. You notice the way his jaw slightly flexes at your attitude.

“Well, senior year isn’t over for another 4 months so maybe 1 month of detention will prepare you two for the real world?” Mr Mueller grins and then turns his attention to lesson plan.

You shrug and slump back in your chair feeling stupid for trying to show off. A month’s worth of detention isn’t the worst punishment, it will give you time to complete homework and extra credit but you also know your mum will chew you out for getting in trouble. You feel a tap on your shoulder and you turn to see Colson holding a note out to you, a small smile playing on his lips. You take the note and turn back around.

Guess this makes us detention buddies x

The note alone was enough to make your stomach flutter but the kiss at the end, well that sent you into overdrive. A whole month with Colson? Yeah detention won’t be so bad.

Part 2

#colson baker #machine gun kelly #mgk #tickets to my downfall #ttmdf #mgk imagine #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #machine gun kelly imagine #mgk x reader #mgkxx #est19xx #colson baker x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #good mourning

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sadisticsongbird · 2 years

Text

chem partners ~ peter parker

summary: peter makes it his mission to make your life a living hell. the question is why...

warnings: language, fluff, angst, tiny bit spicy towards the end, cringy writing

word count: 4.9k (little shorter than the last one)

a/n: im a sucker for enemies to lovers and I wanted to try it out. please don’t send criticism my way. still a new writer!!! :)

There was nobody else in the world you hated more than Peter Parker. Papers and books were scattered on the floor. Whose books and papers may you ask? Yours.

“You should watch where you’re going, Y/L/N. You could hurt someone.”

You glared your eyes up to his dour, brown ones; To the eyes of the person who made it his job to torment you every day. Peter wore a smirk so sharp it could slice through a coconut in one motion. He stepped over your books still on the floor followed by his little posse of friends. You didn’t know when the sweet curly haired boy became such the bitch he was now, but you had learned to ignore him. You finished gathering your books and made your way to your locker. MJ, your best friend, was already waiting there for you.

“You gotta quit letting him push you around like that…”

“You don’t think I know that,” you snapped, opening your locker.

You stuffed your extra books in your locker, taking out your chem book for first period. As soon as you finished, MJ shut your locker door and you leaned your head against it.

“I don’t know why you don’t say anything. Teachers or counselors could-”

“No. I’m not going to anyone. If I rat Peter out, it’ll be worse than it already is.”

You started walking away and MJ quickly came up behind. You wanted to go to someone, get Peter in trouble, and while it was the truth that you didn’t want to make the teasing worse, you had another motive behind it. You walked up to the door of the classroom and opened it, waving a goodbye to MJ, who had a different class. Opening the door all the way, you were greeted by a quiet hello from Mrs. Cobbwell. Keeping your head down, you made your way to the empty lab table in the back of the room and began scrolling on your phone before the bell rang. You dazed off on the brightness reflecting off of your screen until you felt a rustle beside you. Your focus shifted to the annoying boy beside you.

“Fuck off, Peter. I’ve had enough this morning.”

“Aww, did someone not get enough sleep last night?”

Your eyes shot daggers towards him, but you continued to ignore him and his antics.

“Come on, Y/N, you can’t ignore me forever,” he finished as the bell went off.

Peter, though, didn’t move a muscle. He sat still in the seat beside you, waiting for class to start.

“The hell are you doing?” you whispered towards him.

“Waiting for class to begin. Now, shut up.”

Your mouth fell open. The nerve of this boy. Mrs. Cobbwell snapped you out of it by throwing a reading assignment up on the board. Continuing to disregard the boy next to you, you opened your book to the page assigned and began reading. You dug into your bag and snuck out your earbuds, beginning a playlist consisting of Disney songs. You barely get two pages in before feeling a poking on the side of your arm. You hastily turned to face Peter.

“What. do. you. want,” you seethed.

“Cobby’s talking.”

You rolled your eyes at Peter’s nickname for Cobbwell and took your earbud out to tune in to your teacher’s instructions.

“The assignment provided will be assessed in two different ways. One will be the standard test on paper and the other will be a physical project. By yourself, please read the entirety of the chapter and take notes. You won’t be able to take the test unless finished. For the physical project, you will make a model of one of the reactions in the body shown in the chapters. The project will be completed with a partner.”

Oh, no.

Maxwell, one of your classmates, raised his hand. “Do we get to pick out our partners?”

You crossed your fingers under the table. Please say yes. Please say yes. PLEASE.

“No. Your partner will be your current lab partner.”

Of all the things that have already happened this morning, this one had to be the fucking worst. Before you could get a chance to express your opinion, Peter was already looking at you with a cocky grin.

“This’ll be fun,” he teased.

Angrily, you tucked your head in between your arms and groaned.

✏🖤✏🖤✏

You opened the door to your home and shut it with a deafening slam. You heard and smelt your mom working away in the kitchen. It was just you and her. You never met your father and you were okay with that. You were perfectly happy living the small life that you did with your biggest role model. Rounding the corner, you were cursed with a view of flour all over the counter and floors and a dancing mother amidst it all.

“Hey, sweetie. How was school?”

“Terrible,” you said, setting your stuff down beside the counter. “Whatcha making?”

“I tried making cookies. Didn’t go too hot.” Your mom frowned as she held up a plate of charred cookies. There were a couple that didn’t look too bad, so you grabbed one off of the plate.

Your mom brushed a hand through your hair as you took a bite. “What made your day so bad?” she asked.

You couldn’t tell her. “Just homework, a big partner project.”

She hummed. “Who’s the partner?”

“Peter…” you mumbled.

“...Parker?” she finished. You nodded your head, sticking the last of the cookie into your mouth. “God, I never see that boy anymore. May either. Why don’t you work on the project over here? Tell Peter to bring May. I need to catch up with her.”

You gave your mother a gentle smile, but you didn’t want to dwell on this any longer. Grabbing your backpack off of the floor, you slung it over your shoulder and waved silently at your mom. You made your way to your room where you threw off your backpack and relaxed on your bed. Your mom was right. You never saw the Parkers anymore. Truth was, you and Peter used to be best friends. You did everything together, from playing at the park to ice cream outings to decathlon team freshman year. Peter knew everything about you and you knew everything about him. People asked if you were a couple all the time because of the amount of time you spent together. But something changed sophomore year. He stopped talking to you. When you asked to hang out, he shot you down or made a snarky remark. You would’ve just thought that it’d be a blip in the road until he stopped hanging out with you, MJ, and Ned. He quit the decathlon team and started to be around people like Harry Osborn and Liz Allen. Ned and MJ both tried to convince him to come back, but it was no use. Sometimes you thought you saw looks of guilt in his eyes, but it was slowly masked by a new, jeering look. You continued to spiral through memories until your eyes closed under the weight of exhaustion.

✏🖤✏🖤✏

You buried yourself in your textbook to avoid having to conversate with Peter. You still couldn’t believe Cobbwell stuck you in a two-week-long project with the person you probably hate most in this world. While you were angry with the pairing, at least you were still trying to do some work on the project so as not to get a failing grade. Peter, however, was not so helpful. Every time you got your head out of the book, Peter was talking to his new friends who had been put together.

“So, when are you finally going to ask her out?”

“How many times I gotta tell you, Osborn? She’s just… She’s just not someone I’d go for.”

“Well, who would you go for? Someone like her?” Harry asks, pointing at you.

Peter spun around to see you looking at him. Waiting for his reply. He wanted to say maybe, but he just scoffed, avoiding the question. You, embarrassed and cheeks reddening, turned away, pulling yourself back into your studies. Peter went back to talking with his friends, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the disappointment - or was it just hurt - in your eyes. His thoughts and conversations were interrupted by the sound of the class bell ringing.

“Hey, Y/L/N.”

You carried on with packing your bag and closing your notes, not wanting to listen to a word that the boy said to you.

“Y/L/N,” he kept pushing. You continued to ignore him.

“Y/N!”

You zipped up your bag with a yank. “What?” you replied, voice coated in annoyance.

“We need to start working on the project.”

“Yeah, we should begin working. Maybe for a start, instead of chatting with your friends and criticizing me, read your textbook!” you yelled, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and marching out of the lab.

Peter was taken aback. He had teased you, yes, but you had never yelled back before. It almost made him feel bad. But then he remembered why he was doing it in the first place. He needed you to hate him. He needed you to stay away from. If he apologized, it’d be one step closer to putting you in danger. He stepped out of the classroom, watching you dig through your locker for your math book. Yeah, he knew your schedule. Why wouldn’t he? His head was spinning with thoughts of you, so instead of going to his next class, he walked out of school. He ran to the nearest alleyway to put on his suit. He always felt better after swinging around the city, making sure the people of Queens were safe. As he shot web after web at rooftop after rooftop, he felt more comfortable and at ease. His mind melted into images of you.

You two were glued at the hip in your younger years. Every afternoon after school, you two would walk to your house, and Peter and you would play until May came to pick him up. He would beg to stay after seeing your frown when it was time for him to go. Sometimes May and your mom would give in and you tried your hardest to stay up all night, running on juice boxes and cookies. He remembered going to the movies with you and Ned. He loved it when you would curl up into his side when a scary part came on and he loved when you would fall asleep, so he got to gently wake you up when the credits finished rolling. To tell the truth, he was in love with you. He knew you better than anyone, well, anyone other than MJ at this point. You made him feel like no other girl could. And to him, that was dangerous.

After he became Spider-Man officially and known to the public, that meant a target was on his back. For him and for all of his loved ones. He obviously couldn’t get rid of May, but he could distance himself from the rest of his world. His ‘friends’ at school he never talked to outside of school. He distanced himself from Ned and MJ because he didn’t want them to have any association with Spider-Man. It was hard for him to stay away from you. He figured he would start to distance himself a little, love you from afar. But every time he thought it was working, you would ask him what was up or if he could do something together. It got harder and harder to love you from a distance, so he told himself that he needed to put on the act of hating you. And as much as he hated it, it seemed to do the trick. You didn’t talk to him as much and soon it looked like you hated him just as much as he seemed to hate you. Peter didn’t want it to go on this long. He wasn’t good at hurting and teasing. Had he hurt your feelings before, he would have apologized right away. And now shouldn’t be different. Peter hesitantly grabbed out his phone typing a short message:

peter: i'll be at your house for the project tonight at 7

When you looked at your phone, you saw a message from the person you hadn’t had the heart to block. And honestly, it made your heart flood a little. ‘

✏🖤✏🖤✏

You hated to admit that you had cleaned up for Peter. I mean, yes you didn’t want him to think you were a slob, but you also didn’t want to give him something else to tease you about. Your mom was elated to see Peter again. She asked if May was coming and you said you forgot to ask. You were so distracted with cleaning that you didn’t notice Peter standing against the door frame, staring your ass and body up and down as you bent over to pick a few stray pieces of clothing.

“Nice room.”

You jumped at the sound of his voice, dropping the clothing that you had just picked up. “God, Parker.” You put your hand against your chest to take a deep breath.

“‘S changed since I last saw yo- I mean it.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at his slip-up. That was the Peter you missed. You had both found comfort in each other’s homes, not needing to hide your true selves from one another.

“Well, the rooms aren’t the only things that have changed.” Your eyes narrowed and he mirrored the look. The tension in the room was thick. You could see the way Peter ground his jaw. He had done it a few times before, but never towards you. Only when he was mad at comments the jocks made or at homework assignments even he couldn’t figure out. You rolled your eyes and turned around before speaking again. “Where are your books?”

“Hmm?”

“Your books? How are we supposed to go over anything without them?”

“Relax, Y/N. We’ll just use yours.”

You let out a quiet groan, stumbling over to your bag, and grabbing out your books. You laid them on your bed and Peter immediately snatched the chem book by the cover.

“God, you idiot! Don’t grab it there. You’ll break it.”

“Fuck, sorry.”

You rolled your eyes for what seemed the hundredth time that night and began to read and take notes. Peter was honestly impressed with your notecards and dedication to getting this project done. In the past, he would have had this done already, but his new school lifestyle made him change his habits.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Peter said, clearing his throat. “Anabolic pathways break down the larger molecules to create energy.”

“No,” you scoffed. “Anabolic pathways form the chemical bonds to MAKE the macromolecules.” You paused. “You used to be really good at this sciencey stuff. What happened?”

Peter gasped. “Hey, give me a break. I haven’t looked at the readings that thoroughly yet,” he exclaims, pointing at your notes and letting out a soft laugh.

You laugh, too, but quickly retract it, not expecting the act. It felt like normal again. Peter and you eased back into it effortlessly and it scared you. As much as you wanted it to feel real, it seemed like there was a hidden motive behind it or something. As you realized your proximity to Peter, you moved yourself off of your bed and onto the chair next to your desk. Peter noticed this and couldn’t help but frown. Just as much as you missed the normal, he did too. He loved that you were kind of getting back to the way it used to be, but he had to remember, he couldn’t let you get too close. Peter’s face went emotionless again and looked at the textbook as you did. However, he couldn’t recall a single thing that he read off of the pages. He loved how close you were to him just moments ago. He could’ve put a hand on your knee like he used to do when you were stressed or pull you in for a quick kiss like he wanted to do so many times.

“I’m gonna go grab some snacks. Want anything?” you asked, monotone.

You gently smiled to himself. “Surprise me.”

You stood from your desk and made your way to the door. Peter watched you sway out the door before immediately rising from the bed. He stumbled over to your desk where you had Polaroids hung above. He looked at some pictures of you and MJ. There were some of you and Betty. He never saw you hanging out with her. Part of that was probably accredited to not hanging out with you for a while. His eyes moved over all of the artifacts just laying on your desk. The flower pot that you had both painted when you were six. He didn’t think that you would keep anything that reminded you of him after the way that he treated you. He moved over to the corner of your room where he noticed a box sitting under your chair. He crouched down and pulled the box out from under. And on the top was his name. He carefully lifted off the lid and started to go through its contents. He found a couple of his sweatshirts and shirts that he thought he had lost. There were a couple of picture frames with pictures of him with his old friends. He couldn’t believe all of the stuff he found. There was so much of him in your life and he couldn’t even imagine how much it hurt. As he got closer and closer to the bottom of the box, he noticed a single Polaroid in the bottom. It was the picture you took together on the night of your last day of summer before high school. He had placed a kiss on your cheek and you scrunched your nose at the action. He had asked you after you had taken the picture if he could have it, but you were reluctant in keeping it. It was his favorite picture of you two. He was so deep in his head that he barely noticed you standing at the door with a bag of chips

“What are you doing?!” you yelled.

Peter jumped and held his hands up. “I’m, uh… I just…”

“Get out of there!” you yelled, setting the bag down on the bed and storming over to pack up the box.

Peter’s attitude changed quickly and his eyebrows furrowed. “Why should I? Half of the stuff is mine!” You rolled your eyes, hastily putting the things back in their place. “If you hate me so much, why keep it?” Peter asked. You ignored him. “Y/N, answer me.”

You kept silent, making sure that nothing was missing. Uh oh. “The Polaroid… No, no, no! Where the fuck did you put it?”

Peter put on his cocky front again. “What Polaroid?” You scoffed and glared at him. “Oh, you mean this Polaroid?” he said, slowly pulling the picture out from behind his back.

“Give it back,” you said firmly.

“You,” he paused, “still haven’t answered my question.”

“Parker, fuck off. Give it back.”

Peter backed up towards the door and you were quick to follow him. He continued to hold it high over your head as you chased him around your bedroom. Peter tripped over the edge of your carpet and got himself stuck in a corner. With you blocking any escape.

“Hand. It. Over.”

“Make me.”

You groaned. You had had enough of him tonight. “Peter, just stop. What do I have to do to make you stop teasing me?” Feeling the tears well up, you tried your hardest not to cry in front of him.

Although you tried your best to fight the tears, you couldn’t hide the fact from your Peter. He saw the defeat in your eyes and it made it impossible to stop the next words from slipping from his mouth. “Kiss me.”

Your mood changed suddenly. “What?”

Peter was silent himself and let his arm fall to his side. “Uhm…”

You didn’t know who leaned in first, but suddenly, your lips were attached. The kiss was clumsy at first, both getting used to the feel of each other’s skin. But the longer Peter had his lips on yours, the easier it was to fall into place with one another. Peter pushed you towards the bed, rarely taking his lips off of your body. Down your jaw, sucking on your neck, back to your own lips, all while you were letting out whimpers. Peter quickly spun you around when you got close enough to the bed and pulled you into his lap. The moment you were both situated, Peter slipped his tongue into your mouth, wanting to get a lasting taste of you. Even as you felt arousal pool in your panties. Peter broke from you and moved to take his shirt off and you were shocked at how ripped the boy was. Peter was always a scrawny little kid and, yes, you did notice the growing biceps in the first couple of months of being apart, but you didn’t think it was this much.

“Well…” Peter muttered in your ear, “what do ya think?”

“I think you need to shut up and kiss me.”

Peter crashed his lips back on yours as you started grinding on his lap. His bulge was beginning to grow and was rubbing against your panties, making you whimper even louder this time. With your hands tangled in his hair, he moved his lips down to your neck and began sucking on the sweet spot right under your ear. You began trying to take off your own shirt and Peter’s hands followed to help. Breaking contact with you, he lifted it over your head. He couldn’t believe the view he was granted. He never thought that he could have this with you, let alone anything with you, ever again. In Peter’s pondering, he stood up, holding your thighs to keep you close to him. Everything was perfect. He closed his eyes as he buried his face in your neck, gathering in your scent, your taste, your everything. But as he went to lay you down, he was a few inches short of the bed.

Both of you fell down on each other, on top of Peter’s backpack where you felt something hard and sharp poke you in the back.

“Ouch,” you groaned.

“Shit, Y/N, I’m sorry,” Peter muttered quickly.

Peter stood up quickly and lent you a hand to help you up. As soon as you were on your feet, you put a hand on Peter’s cheek and kissed him. “Peter, it’s okay.” He smiled and leaned into your hand, but that happiness was short-lived when he noticed his web-shooters and suit had fallen out of his bag in the mishap. Before he could stop you, you turned around to see his biggest secret lying on the floor. “Peter,” you turned to look at him with betrayal-filled eyes, “what is that?”

He hesitated before speaking. “It’s, uh, it’s just…” He took a deep breath before sighing. “It’s the Spider-Man suit.”

Your eyes grew wide and your mouth fell open bigger. You took a step back from Peter’s half-naked form. “You’re the Spider-Man?”

“Yeah,” Peter murmured, keeping his eyes on the ground, not having the heart to look at you.

You tried putting the pieces together. Spider-Man first appeared your freshman year. That means Peter lied to you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, you interrupted him. “No, never mind. I… Can… Just go to the bathroom. I need a moment.”

Peter grabbed his shirt off of the floor beside you and went to the bathroom to release himself. His thoughts were still flooded with you. YOU kissed HIM. Were you guys about to have sex? Peter didn’t know, but as he released into his hand and began cleaning up, he felt instant regret. You knew. All that he had worked to avoid came unraveled. How were you guys supposed to get back to normal? Even if you did know and there would be no point in staying away from you anymore, he hurt you too badly. He thought that you would never be able to forgive that. So he stayed in the bathroom, sitting on the toilet, wondering what was going to happen now.

You sat at the edge of your bed, shirt on again, and stared at the suit that belonged to your local superhero, the suit that belonged to Peter. Why hadn’t he told you? Was he ever going to tell you? Is this why he left? Even if it was why he left, why did he feel the need to make your life a living hell afterward? None of these questions would be answered if Peter stayed in the bathroom. You got up from the edge of your bed, moving Peter’s things out of the way with your feet, and began sorting through the mess you and Peter made around your room. You needed to talk to Peter, but you still needed some time to think it through.

✏🖤✏🖤✏

Peter stood up from the toilet and his legs hurt from sitting too long. He adjusted his eyes to the light after turning his phone off. Just as he was opening the door, your fist was held up in the air, prepared to knock.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hi.” God, it was like awkward teenage years again.

“Can we-” “I’m so-”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “You go first.”

You grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the bed. Shivers ran up his arm as you touched him for the first time in twenty minutes. You both sat in silence, staring at your fingers, for a few moments before you finally spoke up.

“Why, Peter? Why did you leave so suddenly? Why did you not want to talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me about Spider-Man?”

Another moment of silence.

“Because I wanted to protect you,” he said before looking at you.

“From what?”

Peter took a deep breath. “When I became an official superhero, under Mr. Stark and everything, crime and villains in Queens started to show up more. They all knew that I was the protector of the city, kind of. Had they found me and found out who I really was, it immediately became a target on the backs of everyone I love and care for.”

“But…but then why not tell me?”

“I…”

“What? You didn’t trust me enough?”

“NO! No, no. Don’t ever think that. I just… I didn’t tell anyone. Not even May knows. I just didn’t want it to slip out. You know how bad Ned is with secrets.” You let out a quiet giggle.

“That makes sense. The distance I get. But why tease me? Did I do something?”

“I, uh…I wanted…I NEEDED to find a way to keep you away from me. You kept asking to hang out with me. You wanted to know why I quit the decathlon team. I needed you to leave me alone, so I figured if I put on the show that I hated you, you’d be safe.” He paused and searched your eyes for anything. A reaction, a tear.

“You hurt me,” you mumbled as a tear fell from the outer corner of your eye.

Instinctively, Peter put a finger up to catch it and wipe it away from your face. “Y/N, I love you more than anything. YOU were the one person that I NEEDED to be safe. May is automatically connected to me, so there is not much I can do. But you… You needed to have a life uninvolved in this superhero stuff. Had anything bad happened to you, I’m not sure I could’ve lived with that. I figured that it was better to hurt your feelings than to see you hurt or killed by the villains I go up against.”

Peter swung his arm around you, pulling you into him. You gently rested your head on his shoulder, taking in the scent of Peter. You had him close again. “You love me?”

“I do. You had no idea how much it broke me to stay away from you.”

“I think it broke me more,” you said with a sad laugh.

Peter chuckled too. “I know you probably won’t forgive me, but I want to work things out again between us. I don’t care if the only interactions we have are a smile in the hall. I just need to know we’re all right.”

You pondered for a moment before speaking up. “It’s going to be hard to get back to where we were, but it’s even harder to go without you. I packed up all of your things and kept them because I still needed a piece of you to hold onto, no matter how much you hurt me. I love you too, Peter, and I want to make this work.”

Peter placed a kiss on your forehead and you both sat there for a few moments more. It was sure going to be difficult, but you two would fix it together. As you fell asleep in Peter’s arms that night, you realized that there was nobody else in the world you loved more than Peter Parker.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman fluff #bestfriends to lovers #bestfriends to enemies #enemies to lovers

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blouisparadise · 2 years

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Here are some of the amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of September. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Accusations Will Get You Everwhere | Teen & Up | 1390 words

Louis started rutting against the inside hem of her pants. She moaned at the feeling of her clit moving against the rough material. She rocked eyes rolling back when she felt a tug on her long brown hair. Her hips stop moving. She looked up, eyes glassy and cheeks a light pink.

“Mm, my little whore couldn’t even wait until mommy got back? Could she?”

Louis shook her head as she continued grinding.

She whined when Harry let go.

“What do you want, baby?”

Louis moaned. “ Want you to fuck me.”

2) I Fall To Pieces When I’m With You | Explicit | 2001 words

Harry fucks his omega good after a long day of work.

3) No One Will Hurt You As Long As I'm Here | Not Rated | 2844 words

Harry was shocked. He wanted to scoop the boy up and tell him he would protect him forever, and no one would ever hurt him again, but he knew it wasn't the time to do that.

Instead, he opened the door for Louis, made small talk, and walked him to the door when they arrived at Louis'.

4) Everyone Thinks That They Know Us (But They Know Nothing) | Explicit | 3660 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

A peek into Harry and Louis’ relationship after the Oscars.

5) Be A Good Baby (Do What I Want) | Explicit | 3758 words

Harry takes care of Louis for the day and ends up fucking the girl on her soft bed.

6) You Make Me Sick | Explicit | 3859 words

Morning sex sounds like the perfect way for Louis and Harry to start their day, if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry has work. He remembers a game from their sex book about faking ill, and soon he’s on the phone while Louis is on Harry’s dick. Harry must keep his boss on the phone for as long as he can stand it while ignoring the sickeningly dirty things his boyfriend is doing to him.

7) Teacher's Pet | Not Rated | 5642 words

Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old omega student who has a crush on Mr Styles, his 37 year old English teacher, who's the most lusted after Alpha of the school. Louis plays with himself in class. Mr Styles gets his rut. Disclaimer: I don't know anything about teaching or teacher's assistants etc. So don't take it too seriously.

8) New York, Send Me Home | Explicit | 6013 words

The stunt is finally over for Harry!

9) Outline Of My Sins | Explicit | 6551 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 453: AU where alpha Harry is an art student who is taking a figure drawing class and omega Louis is the nude model. In the many years that Harry has taken art classes, he has never been more hot and bothered than now, having to stare at a beautiful nude omega model for hours.

10) Take A Ride Into The Danger Zone | Explicit | 7561 words

Note: The main pairing is Louis/Jensen Ackles.This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“You’re so tiny and weak, you could never be anything other than the submissive little pillow princess you are.” Jensen teased, moving Louis’ wrists to hold them with one hand only as he used his now free hand to grab and knead at Louis’ meaty bum, he brought the boy closer so he was sat on top of his bulge.

“I would never know if I’d be good at domming because you never let me try!” The boy whined, squirming in Jensen’s lap, trying to set himself free from his boyfriend’s large hands.

Prompt 227: PWP inspired by Doja’s song “Freak”.

11) I Would Wait Forever (And Ever) | Not Rated | 10002 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is brave but has the worst timing in the world, Harry doesn't want to lose his best friend and they just don't communicate enough.

12) Like A Hurt, Lost, And Blinded Fool | Not Rated | 13919 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

ABO college AU where alpha Harry is a frat boy and he asks omega Louis out multiple times but he rejects him every time because Louis doesn’t like how frat boys act towards omegas. One night at a Halloween party, Harry dresses up as a stormtrooper and keeps his mask on all the time and flirts with Louis and Louis flirts back without knowing that’s Harry under the costume.

13) Blackberries And Cherries | Explicit | 13984 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a witch and Harry is his human friend. When Harry needs help focusing on his schoolwork, the obvious solution is to ask Louis for a potion. You could say things don’t go quite right.

14) Breathe Me In, Breathe Me Out | General Audiences | 14263 words

Note: There’s no smut but since it’s omega Louis, it’s been included in this rec list.

Louis is drawn into a quaint candle shop in his desire to find ways to soothe himself while struggling with touch depri. It takes him two more run-ins and with the lovely alpha sales assistant, and a drop, to figure out the source of the scent that imprints upon him and calms his omega. Idiots to lovers

15) Rendezvous | Explicit | 15357 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

"Harry's got a date tonight." Zayn greets him.

Louis misses the good old times, when people used to say hello.

"Why's he got a date, Louis?"

Louis has no time for Zayn's nonsense, he's late to crash Harry's date.

He only came here for one thing.

"I need the fur coat." he announces. "No questions asked."

16) Ugly Love | Explicit | 16112 words

The 1860s Au where Louis is a prostitute and Harry's a governor, they both are in love until they aren't.

17) Sweet As Honey | Explicit | 21501 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis has always been shit at cooking. When he discovers Sweet as Honey on Instagram, owned by chef Harry Styles, he intends to mock him by recreating his recipes with his awful skills, posting photos on his own Instagram account, Nailed It. It's all fun until Harry asks to meet him.

18) Too Slow, Love| Explicit | 21762 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

And Harry is so far out of his mind, staring at his full lips as he continues to sing the lyrics of that song that keeps playing in the back of his mind and Louis needs too much to put his lips on the curly one. And frustration fills his system, because he wants Harry so badly -he's made it clear so many times- and Harry makes no move, gives him no sign even though he wants him too -Louis can feel it in his gaze, in his gentle touch, he can feel it right now-.

He slid his hands down the curly one's chest starting to rise and modulated just for Harry to see: "you're too slow, love."

19) Soapy Lace, Let Me Embrace | Explicit | 26897 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

You know when, in movies, there’s always this character who’s one step away from death? And as it’s nearing they can’t do nothing but pause and relive all of their life, the moments that changed them forever and brought them where they are, as they are. Well, that’s exactly how Louis feels. Feet stuck in place, stunned by the view of what Harry’s holding between his fingers, Louis can’t help but open and close his mouth, wordlessly cursing himself for all the stupid choices he made in his life which led to this moment.

The right words to describe how Louis feels at the sight of his lingerie in the grasp of the last person who needed to see them aren’t written in vocabularies yet.

20) All This Devotion | Explicit | 38047 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

He takes a deep breath. “So this party?” he says, eyes firmly on the road. “I’ll do it, if you want.”

“What?” Louis says, voice quiet beside him.

“I’ll come to your sister's party. It’s going to look weird if I don’t now, right? Like, she’ll wonder what happened.”

“I guess, yeah. You don’t have to though, I get that it’s weird. Pretending to be my alpha, my boyfriend,” the omega says, not understanding what Harry is just now fully realising for the first time.

He wants to be that. More than anything.

21) The Hope Of It All | Explicit | 42336 words

Harry looks gorgeous, just like he always does. He’s wearing his signature black, tight, skinny jeans, a band tee and his varsity basketball jacket. The combination of his perfectly styled hair and the black ray bans over his eyes are enough to make Louis stop the rubbing motions on his arm to just let himself gaze at Harry, eyes dreamy and heart stuttering.

“Take a picture, it would last longer.” Zayn smirks, side eyeing Louis with that annoying, knowing look he gives him every morning when they repeat this same routine.

“Shut up.” Louis groans, ducking his head and rubbing in the last of the lotion. “I wasn’t even staring,” Louis says as his eyes wander back to Harry, where Naomi has now attached herself to his side.

22) Please, Deceive Me | Explicit | 42439 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

After a few minutes, when Harry’s finally settled he says, “Well, I guess you don’t have an explanation for that either?”

“Well, you did follow me of your own accord, I owe you no such thing. I’m a stranger Harry, I could have led you anywhere. I think between the two of us you’re the one who owes me an explanation.” Louis puts his hands on his hips as if to emphasize the point.

Harry looks down, “Well, In my defense, It was a pretty stranger that I followed.”

“Oh Harry, pretty people can be dangerous too, you know.” Louis rolls his eyes but a warm pink still falls over his cheekbones.

23) Chasing The Moment I'm Hoping Is Coming | Mature | 44486 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

For as long as Louis can remember, he’s been obsessed with the idea of love. He’s read countless books about love at first sight and seen way too many Hallmark movies. The idea of a soulmate—someone made just for him—has been something he’s longed for as long as he can remember. It’s always been on his mind, and he’s made up countless scenarios for who they are or what they do, taking inspiration from literature. His mom fills in the rest of the blanks; he’s heard many stories about a wide-eyed, toddler-Louis staring at movie after movie, begging for just one more because he was so enraptured by romance. As he grew up, his tastes changed, of course; he’s branched out to fantasy, action, and even horror movies as well, but there’s always something about romance that he comes back to. So many tales of love have been told, retold over the years that Louis is nearly positive he’ll be swept off his feet. However, there’s one teensy little kink in his plan.

He’s single.

24) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55778 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

In spite of wanting to sound lucid and coherent for his own big jump, Harry wants to be near and touch, wants to listen to whatever the omega’s saying because he loves that voice, and he's always hated talking unless he has to. They're a good pair, the two of them, a perfect balance. Louis’ all sunshine, good vibes and healthy eating, lingering hugs and sticky cheek kisses, and Harry's the complete opposite without explanation, but fuck, it feels good to be around someone like that. To have someone like that in his life at all.

Harry wants to protect his affectionate ball of light from the world's ignorance, wants to help add to the glow like starting a snowball, rolling it around until it can’t get off the ground because it’s so heavy from all the effort, patience and commitment.

25) Satellite | Explicit | 78422 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a hardworking, dedicated, loving single mum with no interest other than making his son happy, and who thinks that love will never knock on his door again. Harry is a lone man, successful in his field, and thinks he has his life together and all figured out. Wrong meets clueless, lives get turned upside down in the best way possible with the help of a cute and curious little boy, who just wants to learn more and more.

26) The Rose of Whitechapel | Mature | 100181 words

Jack the Ripper au - Detective Constable Harry Styles and his partner, DC Liam Payne, lead the case on the Whitechapel murders. Louis Tomlinson, the Rose of Whitechapel, is harbouring secrets of his own, along with a dark and sordid past. When their paths cross, truths are revealed, and perhaps hearts are mended...

A darkness is brewing, and it's finally come to collect on the promise it was made.

27) Only You And Me | Not Rated | 109836 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Louis goes on with his life after Harry, he hopes Harry comes back to him but is also on the search for something new. Will Harry reach out to Louis, or will Louis get over him and find something better?

28) How Many Times Will It Take (To Get This Right) | Explicit | 157805 words

Harry was watching her go, unable to meet Louis’ eyes again now that they were alone, and that’s how he saw him when the young boy leaned around Jay to peer at his mum and Harry. Harry’s jaw went slack, his mouth falling open in disbelief when two green orbs identical to his own found him and stared unwaveringly calm into Harry’s sunglasses-covered face. His small features were undeniably close to Louis’. Their noses, their lips, even their brow line was the same, but the pup’s eyes were an eerily familiar shade of emerald, and much rounder than Louis’. His hair fell in dark ringlets around his small face, which was also much too round to really say the child looked like Louis, despite the similar features. Harry sputtered when his alpha roared in his chest that Harry should follow the kid--should protect his pup. But there was no fucking way.

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