#oh scott you fucking idiot

[ba9go]

bakugou katsuki finds you annoying (he can’t stop thinking about you) pt. 1

sort-of enemies to lovers with bakugou katsuki <3

read part 2 💥 part 3 (nsfw)

from the very moment you walked into the 1-a classroom, you set off a ticking time bomb in bakugou katsuki. he hated your guts.

it was early in the morning, with about 20 minutes till class started. bakugou was seated in his chair, leaning back with his eyes closed, when all of a sudden he hears this agitating, grating voice.

his eyes snapped open and flicked to the source of the sudden noise.

you.

you stood in the doorway, bowing and apologising refusely to fucking icyhot for running into him. bakugou took one look at your stature next to todoroki’s and huffed. ‘idiot walks into a wall and apologises. what a dimwit.’

bakugou watches as todoroki awkwardly but earnestly bows back at you with a murmured apology of his own. you pause mid-bow to shake your head, “no, no, no, this was entirely my fault!” and bakugou thinks he can feel his temple twitch when you start laughing. “god, i’m sorry, we just look so stupid right now!”

‘damn right you do, fucking morons.’ bakugou tears his gaze away from your bright smiling face and spams the volume-up button on his phone until ears (jirou) can actually overhear travis scott from his earphones and flinches beside him.

bakugou closes his eyes and sighs through his nostrils. it’s way too fucking early for this.

later that day, aizawa-sensei announces that you’d be joining class 1-a as u.a.’s newest transfer student, and invites you to introduce yourself in front of the class.

you stood beside aizawa and introduce yourself with yet another beaming smile. your bright eyes roam around the classroom from face to face as you address your new classmates, until they land on bakugou, who narrows his eyes and glares at you.

bakugou feels a strange sense of satisfaction, watching you stutter mid-sentence, and he thinks you’re such an idiot, but then your eyes quickly dart away to look elsewhere and bakugou is somehow even more pissed off by you.

so he grinds his teeth and tears his gaze away from you once more to look out the window.

the rest of the week goes smoothly for you as you quickly befriended the class. with the exception of one, everyone seemed friendly and warm and genuinely interested to get to know more about you and your quirk. likewise, you were just as curious and enthusiastic about getting to know your classmates. with the exception of one.

you ignored bakugou like the plague — just as he’d wanted, bakugou thinks. you’re an eyesore, the way you’re all smiley and giggly, all of the damn time. bakugou hates it, hates the look in your eyes, like you’re so damn happy and you’re somehow just always having the time of your damn life.

‘just another fucking weakling who won’t last.’

it doesn’t take bakugou a long time to realise that his judgement of you was entirely off. you were in fact, not a weakling. you were strong, and you proved it every single time, putting your all in every training and going above and beyond with your hand stretched out to anyone who needed it, all the while with that damn smile on your face.

one training, bakugou busted one of his gauntlets. he had expected it, had already sensed that something was off when he was gearing up before training. he cursed under his breath and went to remove it, when you suddenly spawned by his side and scared the living shit out of him.

not that he’d ever admit it, but hearing your voice was enough to make his hair stand on end.

“hey, um, do you need help with that?” you asked, and bakugou freezed as you looked at him with those big, innocent eyes. “your gear, i mean.”

“hah?” bakugou flares up instinctively. it’s his default response to being approached, after all. “the fuck do you know about fixing jackshit?”

“oh, um, i tinker with a bunch of random stuff sometimes, so i figured maybe i could—”

“like hell i’m gonna let some idiot like you tinker with my shit,” bakugou sneers at you, and you flinch but you don’t take a step back. “find somethin’ else ta do if yer bored, sunshine.”

“sunshine— what—” you genuinely look a little concerned and even a little offended as you guffaw over bakugou’s words. “my quirk has nothing to do with sunshine!”

“hah?! ya think i’m stupid or some shit?! ‘course i know that it’s got shit to do with the sun, moron!”

“then why in the world would you call me that?!”

“i’ll call you whatever the fuck i want, shitface!”

then, class prez tenya iida dashes to break up the “fight”. “YOU TWO!!! BAKUGOU ESPECIALLY, CEASE YOUR SQUABBLING THIS INSTANT!!! SUCH PROFANITY IS NOT BECOMING OF A FUTURE—”

later that evening, you find yourself seated on the couch watching alien: covenant in the common room with kirishima, kaminara, sero and mina. however, you’re not paying much attention to whatever that egomaniac david’s doing in the movie, you’re still dwelling on how horribly your first proper interaction with bakugou had gone.

“y/n, darling, would you please tell us what’s wrong? this is, like, the tenth time you’ve sighed, and i know david is not that hot,” mina nudges your arm with an elbow. kaminari squawks in defiance, crying out that “if david’s not hot, i’m toast!” and kirishima reassuring him that he’ll be just fine, because “david’s just not manly, man!”.

“yeah, it’s not david,” you sighed yet again, and mina facepalms so hard you wince. “sorry, it’s just, i’m still a little peeved by what happened during training today.”

“bakugou, huh?” kirishima shoots you a wry smile, nodding sympathetically. “don’t mind it too much, bakugou’s just always like that!”

“i know, i know, but why the fuck did he call me sunshine?” you groaned, grabbing the nearest pillow and shoving your face into it.

“holy shit, okay, guys, this must be really bad,” kaminari shoots up from his horrendous slouched position and grabs sero’s shoulders to shake him like it’s the end of the world. “y/n just swore, and bakugou is acting up! i mean, that doesn’t sound like bakugou at all!”

“okay, firstly, kaminari, i hate to break it to you, bud, but i swear. like, a lot,” you dropped the pillow in your lap. “secondly, what do you mean bakugou’s acting up? doesn’t he call everyone names all the time?”

“yeah, insultingly,” jirou walks by the common room and chimes in. she points at the earphone jacks dangling from her ears. “i’m “ears.””

“i’m pinky,” mina hums in agreement.

“soy-sauce face,” sero deadpans.

“dunceface!” kaminari high-fives sero.

“and bakugou calls me shitty hair,” kirishima completes with a sigh. “what did he call you again?”

“moron, sunshine, and shitface, i think?” an awkward silence falls over the room, and you frown. “what? what does that mean? does he, like, really hate the sun or something?”

“…not that i know of? but it sounds like, uh,” kirishima scratches his head and gives you another one of those wry smiles. “sounds like you don’t completely piss bakugou off.”

extras:

yes that was an abby miller reference

yes i have walked into a wall yes i apologised

i REALLY wanna watch alien romulus in cinemas soon PLS NO SPOILERS

taglist (thank you for your support!!): @anicaaa67 @maddietries @valeriyaaak @v3n7s @deimosjay @zaiban2989 @girls-overflower @notmeduhh @dreamcastgirl99 @busdriver-move-that-ass @atashiboba @kathsuhki @armeenix @channnee @antiwhores @sukunasbottomlefteyeball @kenqki @vikizzy @thesimpybitch @eempxth @hanta-seros-wifey @itztaki @thekidscallmebosss

[uglypastels]

Logan x reader where the reader is scott's younger sister and they're in a secret relationship because she's younger/obviously doesn't want her brother to know. Maybe Scott tries to set her up with someone else or she gets hurt on a mission or something because she got too cocky and everything comes to the surfaces. Sorry I know that's now very descriptive🙈

no don't be sorry this was perfect, if not giving me too much to word with lol. this is so great I wasn't really sure how to incorporate all the elements, but I hope what I managed to do was still good. I certainly had a lot of fun writing it lol. also, apologies if there are some dumb mistakes/errors. i am so sleep deprived but just really wanted to post this before going to bed.

warning: Smut 18+ only. MDNI. no condom [wrap it before you tap it pls]. p in v. fingering. swearing. degradation ["slut" is used]. accidentally almost public stuff. quickie. sub/dom dynamic. un/intentional cockblocking.

~ X-Men Requests Open ~ Masterlist ~

‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as Logan pressed you against the wall of the small janitor’s closet. It was too cliché to even think about it. And who would have ever expected the Academy to have a janitor’s closet? If you thought about it, it was almost as if the universe wanted you to take this opportunity and hook up with him in the little cubby.

The second you saw him that morning in his loose-fitted long-sleeve and those boot-cut jeans, the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day was how much you needed him. You had managed to survive past noon, and then you had to go and stumble into the garage and catch him working on his motorbike.

His long-sleeve was discarded to reveal the white, now slightly dirty, tank top. His arms were toned and tanned. You watched him just long enough for him to notice your presence, then to grab the towel hanging from his back pocket and wipe his hands clean. 

‘C’mere, Princess,’ he called you over with two fingers, and you almost felt like you had gained the ability to float so quickly had you made your way over to him. Next thing you know, he had picked you up, his hands firmly on your ass, yours in his hair, and your lips colliding in a passionate crash of a kiss. 

‘Fuck, I missed this,’ you moaned out in a desperate moment to catch a breath with your chest already heaving. ‘Missed you.’ You kissed the corner of his mouth, getting the most satisfaction at how a smile formed in the spot where your lips touched him. Neither of you could help yourselves. The urges you felt were nearly animalistic, but when you were around him, you also felt like you were up in the clouds, feeling light as a feather and giddy like an idiot. The need for him was coursing through your veins. 

‘Mmm, I know, sugar,’ his voice came deep from his throat in a growl full of yearning. ‘Gonna let me have my way with you, yeah?’

All you could respond with was a desperate moan. So caught up in the delicious feeling of his body against yours, that you nearly missed the beeping announcement of the garage doors opening. You would have gone on unaware of anything going on around you if it wasn’t for Logan pulling away and setting you back on the ground. It was like a switch flipped on inside your brain, and just in time, as the doors opened and a car drove up as you took your precautionary steps away from Logan, who had gone back to working on his bike. 

The car halted in its designated parking spot, and you weren’t surprised to find your older brother, Scott, stepping out of it. Only he would have such perfectly unfortunate timing.

‘Hi Scott,’ you tried to sound chipper about bumping into him, and absolutely not like he had just interrupted a much-needed make-out session with your boyfriend that he knew nothing about. How you had managed to keep it a secret for all these months, you had no idea. 

‘Hey,’ he smiled politely you way, as he had already made his way to the exit. As always, you couldn’t see his eyes through the red glasses he wore, and yet you could tell exactly where he was looking at with that judgemental look of his. But Logan didn’t pay him any attention, which might have even been the bigger insult than if he had quipped something your brother’s way. You knew he wanted to, though, but you also knew that he didn’t want to insult your brother right in front of you. 

You waited for Scott to walk out of the room, but to your surprise, your brother turned around to you. ‘Are you coming?’

‘She was about to.’ You heard Logan mumble under his breath as he… You weren’t sure what exactly he was doing with that bike with the screwdriver. You never understood much of mechanics.

‘Uhm, yeah,’ you responded, ‘I uhh– I just wanted to ask Logan something. I’ll just be a moment.’

‘No, I’ll see you later, bub,’ Logan caught you off guard. ‘This might still take a while and I don’t want to keep you waiting.’

‘Oh, ok.’ You pushed the disappointment off your face before you started walking to the exit where Scott stood, still none the wiser. As soon as you walked into the corridor, you made up an excuse to go the other way and walked as fast as you could without making it necessarily suspicious if he had glanced your way.

The hours that followed went by painfully slow. You kept your eye out for Logan, but he was nowhere to be seen all afternoon. Dinner had come and gone, and you were returning to your room, already having made your peace with the fact that today was simply one of those days where fate kept you apart.

And exactly at that moment, Logan turned the corner.

‘Where the hell were you all day?’ you questioned, annoyed, but no matter how angry you pretended to be, the grin on your face at the sight of your boyfriend was quite clear in meaning.

‘I did have stuff to finish on my bike.’ He took a few large strides your way, ‘and then some kids needed help with something.’

‘Aww, that’s sweet.’ You leaned into him, your chin on his chest, as you looked up into his eyes.

‘Don’t act too surprised, Princess.’ His arms immediately wove themselves around your waist, and you slowly leaned for a kiss. It was risky to do this in an open hallway where anyone could walk in, but in the moment, you couldn’t care less. You just wanted to feel him, all over you. The desperation for it grew with each second and was ready to explode. 

That was all in theory, of course, since as soon as you heard any threat, the risk-taking daredevil part of you immediately hid, and you were looking for an escape route. It was two pairs of footsteps this time that echoed through the hallways. You cursed under your breath. 

Just your luck to be standing next to a door. Trying its limits again, you pulled down at the door handle and sighed with relief as it opened. You quickly slipped inside, pulling Logan in behind you by the hand. He closed the door back behind him just in time as the footsteps, which you now recognised to be Scott and Jean’s, along with their voices, moved across the spot where you had just been standing.

‘Are they—’ but your question never was finished, as your lips were caught in a haste kiss. It was pitch black in the tiny room, but you heard Logan pull the lightbulb cord. The next thing you know, the faint yellow light illuminated what you now recognised to be the janitor’s cubby. A closet large enough to fit a large shelfcase filled with cleaning products, buckets, and towels. But Logan needed no time to orientate himself. He was already all over you. One hand pinning your leg up against his upper thigh, leading you against the wall. 

‘Oh my god,’ you moaned out as you felt the pressure and structure of the room against your shoulders, Logan’s chest against yours. His hand stroke up and down your leg, squeezing at the soft flesh of your ass.

‘Wanna be my good little girl?’ Logan growled into your ear.

‘Yes,’ you whined, desperate for more than just his kiss. ‘Fuck, yes.’

‘Want me to fuck your tight little pussy, sugar? Just like you’ve been begging me for? What you say, you little slut?’ At the sound of his words, all of yours simply escaped you and so you could only respond in a series of moans and whines. All sounds that brought Logan immense joy and arousal. ‘Yeah, thought so.’ It had been a very conscious choice you had made that morning by wearing a skirt. Not that you had expected to end the day in this closet, but you were sure it would end somewhere in Logan’s grip. And so you were fully prepared. 

His fingers smoothed over your panties, pressing over your slit, feeling the material get soaked through just that one simple touch. But it wasn’t enough. For either you or him. He kept toying with you for a few more minutes, never crossing the material barrier of your underwear, long strokes up and down, pushing in closer, almost as if nothing was there to separate you. 

‘Please,’ you cried out, ‘baby, please. I need–’

‘What do you need, sweetheart? C’mon, use your words?’ God, you hated when he got so cocky. You could never take much of his teasing. Then again, you weren’t in here to exactly last long. 

‘Need your fingers. Please.’ 

‘Good girl,’ he kissed your forehead, snapped the band of your underwear to make you whine so prettily as he loved, and pulled the panties down your legs. 

Another filthy moan left you as his fingers slowly filled you up. The expletives rolled off your tongue in the rhythm of his thrusts. He kept a steady pace, and one that left you shaking against him. So much so that soon enough, he had to hold you up by the arm, pinning you down even harder. One leg propped up high for even easier access to his favourite part of you. 

‘Such a good slut, taking anything I give you, anywhere I want you.’ His voice could practically get you over the edge alone, and he knew that well enough on his own, and so he kept talking. ‘Can’t wait to get my hard cock in you, Princess. Gonna fill you up so good. Fuck. Just you wait—’

‘No, please,’ you cried out.

‘What’s that? My girl can’t wait a few more minutes for her cock?’ He kissed your neck so ferociously it was more like his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin, and the sensation left shivers down your whole body. He raised his mouth up to directly speak against your ear.

‘So fucking desperate. Wish you could see yourself now. Just know you’d do anything for me, wouldn’t you?’ He punctuated the question with one final deep thrust of his large fingers. ‘You gonna cum? No, no, no. Not yet. You’re gonna let me have my fun first, isn’t that right?’

‘Yes.’ was all you managed to say. Then his lips clashed with yours in another of your sloppy kisses. Your hands found themselves in his hair for the second time that day, and you already felt yourself falling into bliss, and that was all without even the feeling of his length finally pushing deep in you. If only you could scream the pleasure you felt. But for now, in the closet, you would make due by digging your nails into his shoulder. That, in turn, only got Logan more riled up as his thrust grew in pace. He hit all your right spots evenly, hard and deep. If he kept going like that, and you were sure he would, you didn’t know just how much longer you would last.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna–’ your voice was breathy and out of focus, as all that was on your mind was him inside you. 

‘Yeah, c’mon, sweetheart, come for me. Come all over my cock.’ he growled the words with the same intensity and desperation for release you felt.

You were so close. Just ready to burst. Moment away when—

When suddenly, a knock on the other side of the door halted the both of you. In a sudden moment, everything washed away with the power of a tsunami. Leaving nothing behind but emptiness.

Someone cleared their throat. Someone who you could already recognise from that simple gesture. 

‘Alright, it’s past curfew, lovebirds, knock it out.’ You could hear in your brother’s voice just how uncomfortable he was by catching two, what he assumed to be students, clearly hooking up. Your guess was that the room had not been as soundproof as you imagined a cubby to be. Or you were that much louder. 

You looked up at Logan, who had already started zipping up his jeans. There was another firm knock on the door.

Well, if Scott had already felt embarrassed, you were about to make it ten times worse.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[bitchinbarzal]

Safe | Scott Miller

summary: he just wanted to keep you safe

-

“He doesn’t talk much, or smile… huh?”

Kate looked over at Tyler, following his sight to Scott who was sat on the truck bed with his laptop, having forgone dinner with everyone else.

She gave a soft smile “He’s not a bad guy, whatever his face may say”

The few people within earshot chuckled

“What’s his story?”

Javi and Kate made brief eye contact before Javi replied

“He had a wife, he wasn’t always this angry. He lost her to a chase and he really hadn’t been the same since. He wants to help people really, that’s why he’s doing this. He wants the data to help make them less detrimental”

A lot of eyebrows raised around the table “I find that hard to believe, this guy doesn’t care about anyone but himself - he doesn’t care about the people”

Scott cleared his throat from the back of the truck, gaining everyone’s attention “Lose the person worth living for and you’ll stop caring too”

Tyler couldn’t say anything before Scott walked off, not before mumbling “We leave at four, don’t be late”

The group looked between one another, Kate slowly regretting her suggestion for everyone to eat together.

“I didn’t mean-“

“He’s just upset man, don’t worry about it too much”

Back in his room, Scott sat on the edge of the bed looking at his laptop, your smile looking back at him from the desktop picture “God… if you’d just stayed away”

“You don’t smile much huh?”

Scott looked up from his clipboard at you “What?”

“Smile” you mumbled, putting your thumbs on the corners of his mouth and pulling them up to create a smile “You look prettier when you smile”

Scott wasn’t amused, pulling your hand away from his face “I don’t smile, we’re working”

“You’re a ray of sunshine, miller”

Before he could snap back someone called out across the lab “Walk away Y/N, Scott here is bad news”

He watched, expecting you to turn away. You didn’t, instead you leaned across the desk “What’re we working on?”

“Walk away Y/N… you heard them”

You turned your head towards him, a soft smile on your lips “I don’t think so… I’m gonna stay right here, Scotty boy”

Scott was quiet in the morning, sitting beside Javi in the car as they drove out east.

“Listen man, nobody meant anything last night-“

“It’s fine” Scott snapped, still looking at his laptop.

Javi sighed “It’s not fine and you know it, why won’t you talk about her? Why won’t you let us in? We don’t feel safe riding with you when you won’t say anything Scott!”

His words spilled out, immediately regretting it when he saw Scott’s jaw clenched

“She was my wife” he snapped, gripping the laptop so hard his knuckles turned white “she was my girl to talk about, not yours, not anyone else’s. She was mine and just because you guys replaced her with Kate-“

“We didn’t replace her, Scott she’s gone!”

“I know that!”

You thought Scott would never want to marry you, being the lonely type he was, you didn’t expect him to.

You were content being his girl.

He loved you, in his own way and you were happy.

It happened one night at a truck stop, both laying out in the bed of the truck having pulled over to get some sleep before a big storm the following day.

Your life wasn’t luxurious or fancy, but you had him.

You lay in his arms, fingernail trailing up and down his arm draped across your chest.

“I love you” he mumbles against the back of your head, you smile softly “I love you too, baby”

There’s a pause and you know he wants to say something so you don’t speak.

“I want to marry you”

Your mouth dropped open, shock painted your features. The silence from you had Scott panicking

“God did I fuck this up? I shouldn’t-“

Before he could move away from you, in his own head you turned to him with the widest smile “I wanna marry you too, idiot! Oh my god, Scotty I love you”

The smile never left his face that whole night and only did disappear when someone else found you both to continue the journey.

When you arrived home, he had you in the courthouse two days later to officially make you his wife.

“Why the rush?”

“Why wouldn’t I wanna rush to make you mine?”

Everything was perfect. He was perfect.

They stopped for gas in a town they frequented often, always stopping at the same place to eat and get gas.

When Scott and Javi ventured into the diner for lunch the waitress, Liza recognised them immediately, ushering them to their booth and grabbing their menus.

Javi noticed how she placed a third menu next to Scott almost out of habit before realising and picking it back up.

The boys ordered what they always did, with polite thanks to their waitress the rest of the evening was silent.

With their meals in her hands, Liza dropped their food in front of them “there you are boys, and Scott-“

He looked at her, eyebrows raised “Hmmh?”

“We’re real sorry for your loss sweetheart, we loved her so much”

Scott’s lips pull into a tight line “Yeah, Liz… me too”

“I wish she’d have been happier when we saw her last”

That innocent comment had Scott’s stomach in knots

You’d been crying walking into the diner that day, having just finished a screaming match with Scott.

The two of you couldn’t see eye to eye on an upcoming storm - Scott saying you needed to head south while you thought west was your best bet.

He’d called you names, and you him. It got ugly really quick.

You’d left the truck to save this going any further, claiming to be hungry and that you just needed some dinner. So Scott sat in the car watching you cry over your pot pie, his heart broken to know he caused this.

When you got back into the truck you mumbled “Head south, whatever it was you wanted” and he smiled triumphantly. Looks like he’d won this fight.

He didn’t win, at all.

The storm in the south was miscalculated. It was not a small storm to leave a few houses wrecked. It was an all encompassing storm, headed straight for you.

When you saw it, it was too late.

The car was abandoned, both of you running to find somewhere safe to hide. Scott was behind you, holding your hip as a way of knowing where you were as his eyes were assaulted by the wind and debris. 

You found a cafe, the first thing you saw “They’ll have stuff in the kitchen, to hold - c’mon!” It wasn’t the number one choice but you weren’t exactly flush for options.

Crouched in the corner of a kitchen, hanging on for dear life to the water mains pole, you faced one another with fear all over your face.

Scott felt horrible, having been the only reason you’d headed south, now he’d put you in this position. He watched you tremble on the opposite side of the kitchen, tears flowing down your face.

“Scotty, I don’t wanna die” he could hear the fear in your voice, usually so calm and collected.

“You’re not, I won’t let anything happen to you!” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, not you.

The stray items around the kitchen flew around the room, he could hear your whimpers as you held on for dear life.

He listened with a clenched chest to your whimpers, screams and cries. He prayed for this to be over - for it to stop so he could just hold you.

When it finally did subside, the air not to loud in his ears and the contents of the building now firmly on the floor once again, he looked at you still crouched down.

“Hey, Hey baby it’s fine. You’re ok - you’re safe, I gotchu” you looked up, his hand outstretched for you to take. 

Scott saw your hand reach for his, so close before he watched the roof fall in, landing in a pile infront of him - where you stood. They found Scott sitting there hours later, desperately shredding his hands apart as he raked through the rubble.

That’s the thing about feeling safe, never trust it. Danger is around every corner. 

In the car with Javi on route into El Reno Scott couldn’t help the emotions that overcame him.

His head knew Javi was right, the people needed help but his heart told him he needed the data, he needed this to help find out what happened that day, why he lost you.

When Javi finally let him out the car, he tried to grab the gear but instead was left alone with nothing.

There was no use trying to run, the tornado was right behind him. Instinctively he dove for cover in a ditch by the road, hands covering his head while he mumbled to himself “I’m coming baby, I’m coming for you”

[rrcenic]

if the scott pilgrim takes off characters had tumblr (yeahhh scott’s username is a sonic/x men reference)

🎸 sonicthemutant Follow

wallace sent me this idk what to say,,,

(12 notes)

🛼 bibibitch Follow

isn’t it funny how you can grow to love your ex boyfriend as a son

🛹 LucasLeeOfficialAccount Follow

which one of us is this about

🛼 bibibitch Follow

yes.

#made this post thinking about scott #but this applies to you as well tbh

(15k notes)

💅 prettydarngay Follow

“and they were roommates” i sob. “oh my god they were roommates” when will he notice me.

🎸 sonicthemutant Follow

we’re roommates haha!! silly coincidence?

💅 prettydarngay Follow

i am in love with you

🎸 sonicthemutant Follow

oh.

(8,345 notes)

💰Evil-CEO1147 Follow

my boyfriend @LucasLeeOfficialAccoubt walked into a glass door 😭😭😭

📝 yungneil Follow

i thought you were dating julie???

☕️ BitchyBarista Follow

it’s called polyamory you dumb fuck

📝 yungneil Follow

sorry ma’am

#pls don’t hurt me

(217 notes)

🥁 sexbobomb-band Follow

💋 envyyofficial Follow

if you cover my song i will beat you with my guitar

🔪 knives-from-sexbobom Follow

☹️☹️☹️☹️

(31k notes)

💅 prettydarngay reblogged toddtheveggiehead

🎸 sonicthemutant Follow

“wow scott you seem so cool why don’t you have lots of friends?”

i have autism *vine boom*

i’m transgender *vine boom*

my special interest is a kids video game *vine boom*

i’m not sure if i’m dating my roommate @prettydarngay or if we just flirt and sometimes kiss *vine boom*

🥷 roxxierocks Follow

#we. we are dating right???

NOT A FAKE POST BUT OMG SOMEONE ACTUALLY MADE WALLACES ACCOUNT @prettydarngay and so naturally i had to make @sonicthemutant! send asks :0

THERES NOW @knives-from-sexbobom and @kimpineofficial

[sweetimpurity]

Older Neighbor Miguel Part 3 NSFW!!

Part 1 Part 2

a/n: w.c. is 2.5k and it's longer than I thought it would be but I'm gagged and obsessed. Hope you like it! Might just tease you guys a little longer <3

The sun shines through the window, golden hues cascading over the blankets, your legs on the bed, the soft pillows warm after bathing in the light. It’s morning. It’s been a few days and you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that dream. It’s ingrained in your mind, the feeling of him, his voice, the look in his eyes. It almost makes the embarrassment of being seen half naked melt away. You’re almost glad it happened. It felt so real, making your thighs squeeze together at the memory. You head downstairs to start the morning, finding your parents at the kitchen table.

“Morning…” You smile softly, greeting them, walking over to the kitchen counter. Glancing out the window, at his yard. His house. Seeing if any of the windows are open, if he’s outside. Just a glimpse of him would get you hot. “Oh, honey…” Your mom starts, walking to the sink and putting her plate down. “I hope you don’t mind but I volunteered you to do some babysitting. Would you be up for it tomorrow, 3 to 8?” She asks kindly. You’ve babysat a lot of kids in the neighborhood since high school and your mom is close to a lot of the parents around. Figuring maybe it’s the Scott family again down the street since they have so many kids; always needing childcare. “Yeah I can do it. I’ll text Lisa and tell her I will.” You nod, taking a sip of orange juice and looking over at the breakfast your dad’s made. “Oh, it’s not the Scott’s, it’s Gabriella next door… O’hara?” She asks and you choke on the juice in your mouth, almost spitting it out. Your dad instantly asks if you’re okay when you suddenly start choking like an idiot. “Yeah- no yeah I’m fine-” You cough over the sink, eyes wide, clearing your throat, your mind spinning, heart thumping. 

“Miguel has a late meeting that day and I offered for you to help him out. And he said he’ll pay.” She says, but you can’t handle this. You wonder how he feels about that. He didn’t outright ask for your help but seems like he didn’t refuse it either. He’ll pay? What the hell is going on? “Uh… yeah. I can do it.” You say, feeling a bit nervous about it but also weirdly excited. To see him. To be near him. Gabriella is also a really sweet girl so you know watching her for a few hours will be a breeze. 

Your parents leave for their respective duties, leaving you at home. And all you can do is think about him. The dream you had. It’s embarrassing now, since he probably just thinks you’re a weirdo who walks around in her underwear. He probably got second hand embarrassment. You should be dreading seeing him again. But you can’t help but crave it. Crave him. 

…

“Shit.” He had muttered after talking to your mom across the fence. When she elected you to babysit his daughter after he mentioned in passing not having anyone to watch her after school tomorrow and his ex is out of town. He should have said no, to spare you both the embarrassment. He almost had a hard time looking your mother in the eye when she said it. Knowing he’d had a dream about fucking you nights before. He shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, although they keep happening. You’re so pretty and young, fresh out of college and he feels like a creep for seeing you in your underwear like that. Even if it was an accident. What will you think? 

He can’t help but feel this tension across the fence. Like there's an electric current from your house to his, even though the two of you haven’t even seen each other since the incident. Maybe he’s imagining it. You’d probably never feel the same way. “What…?” He mutters, looking down at the mail he’s been absentmindedly sorting while he’s thinking all of this over. This isn't his mail. This has your dad’s name written all over it. 

He trudges out of the house, walking across the yard to your house. Checking your mailbox to see if his mail was also accidentally delivered here. A simple mixup, probably a new mail delivery person. When he sees the mailbox empty, he walks up the walkway to your front door. Preparing for your dad’s usual grumbles about the mail always being screwed up and packages being late. Knocking on the door. His eyes widening when your pretty face answers. 

…

“Oh sorry- hi good morning.” He says, a stack of mail in hand and like a deer in headlights. His and your hearts nearly stop. He should’ve known you’d answer the door, but it’s like he’s in a daze. You’ve been thinking about him all day and then he just shows up at the door? He’s a big man. Tall and broad. So seeing that look on his face and hearing his words just spilling out like he can’t stop them. It’s endearing. 

“Hi!” You reply once you find the voice to speak. Swallowing hard and looking up at him. Fuck, he’s hot. He looks like he’s on his way to work. Something smart with science in a tall office building in the middle of the city. White button down tucked into his pants, leather belt and sharp, handsome brown shoes; and the smell of his aftershave mixed with cologne wafts in through the open door. And here you are, in your pajamas, a tank and some little shorts. It’s the middle of summer, but why does this keep having to happen? He shows up all the times you’re barely clothed. This time there’s nowhere to hide. “So I… got your mail by accident. Here you go.” He says, reaching the stack of envelopes across the threshold. His dark eyes scan over your face when you look down. He wonders if you’re wearing those pink panties right now. “Thanks, wow must have just been a mistake then?” You look up and he nods, not even having heard what you said because he was distracted looking at you. Your hair, your bare shoulders and way your breasts sit so perfect and pretty in your tank top. He remembers seeing them spill out of that bra. Beautiful and soft looking. What the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I’m creeping on you.

“I think… you might have my mail too? I didn’t see any in the box.” He says after clearing his throat. Your mom got the mail this morning and she must not have had the chance to look at it very closely. “Yeah, maybe let me go see.”

When you turn away, he has to force himself to stop watching your ass, your hips and the way they sway. Is it obvious that I’m drooling over you?

It’s obvious. And you can’t stop the satisfaction you feel, grabbing that stack of mail off the kitchen counter and knowing you’ve got this big man on a leash right now. This could be fun. You take a deep breath, calming your thumping heart and return. “Here it is!”

He smiles when you return, his hands clasped in front of him because of the thoughts going through his mind right now. He’s a man, not a teenage boy. And yet here you are, you’re this young thing making him feel all horny and hormonal. 

“Thank you... oh and thank you for offering to watch Gabriella tomorrow, I know it’s short notice.” He adds, hoping you’re cool with it. Wondering what’s going on in your head. “No problem, she’s sweet, I’d be happy to help.” You nod, smiling up at him knowingly and it makes him feel a little warm. “Well she’s excited too” He nods. It’s not a lie. Gabi’s always trying to talk to you when she sees you around. She’s seven and loves asking about where you got your shoes, your new dresses and how you do your makeup. She’s a very cute little girl, very polite too. 

He debates bringing up what happened a few days ago. But it seems like things are cool and you’re not totally freaked out. That’s good. 

…

Tomorrow comes, and at three you head over to his house. Walking across the yard and to the door, using the spare key he gave to your parents in case of an emergency. Waiting a bit until Gabi gets home off the bus and making lunch with her. Talking about all the little things her mind comes up with. She thinks it’s cool to talk about girly stuff with a girl that’s older. She just thinks you’re the coolest. She was just waiting for school to end until she could come home and hang out with you. To feel like a big kid. 

It’s funny being in his home. You’ve never really been inside like this since they moved in. But you’ve also been away at college for most of that time too. You catch a glimpse of his bedroom as you walk by, the dark sheets and neatly folded blankets. His shoes at the door. Mostly dress shoes but a few pairs of beat up Nike’s, his shoe size impressive. You can’t resist opening the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, pulling the cap off his cologne and smelling it. The scent is like a drug to your brain. It just smells like a man. Maybe you’re creeping on him a little in return. 

Soon the time is nearly 8pm and you’re helping Gabriella into bed. She really is a sweet girl and you’ve learned so much about her and her life. A lot of things that let you know Miguel is a really good dad. All the memories she’d recall with him, vacations and school projects, along with little things like trips to the park and him taking her to work with him. You studied all the family photos on the wall. Most of them of Miguel and Gabriella, some with what looks to be Miguel’s parents and his brother maybe? There’s one photo with his ex in it. It’s in Gabi’s room next to her bed. She’s a beautiful woman, undeniably. Definitely his same age and you can’t help but wonder about the history. Would you have a chance with someone like Miguel who’s already lived a whole life? He’s got everything worked out already and you haven’t even started yet. 

You don’t even know why you have these thoughts. When did the thought of sleeping with him turn into spending your life with the guy? It could all just be fun. If you do manage to sleep with him, it should just be for fun. Because after listening to his little girl talk about how wonderful he is; looking at the pictures on the wall; even observing the way he sets up his home, the color of the pillows on the couch, the dish rack by the kitchen sink, the settings on the kitchen table. This man’s a man. You’d fall in love with him so quick and easy. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the front door opening. Gabriella is settled in bed by now and your job here is done. Waiting in the kitchen and giving him time to adjust. Smiling to yourself. 

He stops at the kitchen door after walking in. His work clothes as attractive and sharp as always. His hair slightly less kempt than it probably was this morning. “Hey…how’d it go?” He greets, undoing the buttons at his wrist and rolling his sleeves up a bit, it’s been a long day. He leans against the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed. “Hi. Gabi’s in bed.” You smile, you could suck the soul out of him right now. 

“How was she?” He asks, unable to stop his eyes from roaming your pretty face. Could you be wearing those pink panties right now? Why must he have these thoughts? “She was perfect… She's so sweet. We painted our nails and I helped her with her homework.” 

“Wow… busy day.” He nods, walking across the kitchen, past you to the fridge. His cologne wafting past you. “What do I owe you? What’s your usual rate?” He asks, grabbing sparkling water from the fridge. “Oh it’s fine, you don’t need to pay me. You get the next door discount.” You joke.

“No, I insist. I said I would pay.” He chuckles softly, twisting off the cap and drinking some from the frosted cool bottle; your eyes flicking to his forearms, tanned and toned. “How about… $200?” He offers, and your eyes blow wide. “$200 for five hours? No way… that’s too much” You shake your head, but he pulls out his wallet from his back pocket. That’s like $40 an hour. 

“Here… I have it right here.” He holds out two hundreds from his wallet. The money just appearing. “No I… it’s too much.” You refuse, not taking it. He can’t believe this. He’d spend a thousand dollars on you to get you anything you want. He’d love to do it with the way he’s been thinking about you for days. It’s no issue for him. And here you are refusing. He places it on the kitchen counter between the two of you, sliding it across. Your heart thumps in your chest. Your hand goes out, hovering over the bills before sliding it back to him. “Just pay for my dinner instead.” 

“Dinner…” His heart pounds in his ears. He has to make a choice. If he takes the money back, he agrees to do as you ask. Pay for your dinner. Take you out. He’s hoping that’s what that means. He’d get a chance to get closer to you and know you wanted him too. He could entertain this little thing going on between you two. Or. He could slide the money back and insist you take it. Go home and that will be the end of it. Refusing the chance to have you, to take you. 

He slides the money back towards himself. Scooping it up and putting it back in his wallet. Success you think. You smile to yourself, feeling so satisfied. “We can be in touch?” You say and it’s at this moment he’s wrapped around your finger. “Yeah. Definitely.” 

“I guess I’ll be seeing you.” You say and grab your bag off the kitchen table. Slinging it over your shoulder. “Goodnight, Mr. O’hara.” 

If you hadn’t turned to leave, you’d have seen him blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. Mr. O’hara. Just like his dream. Your sweet voice as he sheathed inside you. This is too much. He hears the front door close, letting out a deep breath and rubbing his forehead. “Hah…” 

He checks on Gabriella who’s sleeping peacefully in her bed. Going to his bedroom and winding down for the night. Unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off along with his tank top underneath. Walking to the bathroom in his boxers to brush his teeth. He stands in front of the sink, in the dim light of the bathroom, only the nightlight illuminating the tile. Opening the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush and something falls out. He looks down, flicking on the light when he sees it. A pile of pink and lace on the porcelain. He reaches down without a second thought, your panties dangling off of his fingers. What have I gotten myself into?

taglist: @miguels-cock-piercings @sana-4 @peachey-pie @milkyardbetter @chrissymodi-frost

@pxtched @izakopanyi2 @lazyjellyfish300

@nina-from-317 @bammzyboomy @naomihaha2099 @bruh-anator3000 @buttertubz

[kismetlotts]

cw: sexual content

Colleague Simon Riley who you banter with all the time. You weren’t scared of him or intimidated by him like everyone else and he found that different; intriguing. You’d seen him kill people so effortlessly, watched him make decisions that would keep people up all night but nothing put you off. There was something there on your end that drew you in- he had no clue what it was until one morning Johnny decided to enlighten him.

“Aye Ghost has everyone tinklin’eir pants’!” He’d laughed, the two of them were walking towards a helicopter preparing for their mission together, his hand pushing Ghosts shoulder trying to get something out the man but failing as usual. Johnny can talk for days, meaningless rambling, life stories, ranting, joking- god the guy doesn’t shut up. He was nearly as bad as you and in his head he was sure you two were distantly related. Two of the most annoying people being two of the most closest people to him.

“Aside from bonnie, eh’ she’s wet for other reasons.” He’d chuckle out, arm still bumping into his shoulder while he laughs loudly, but Simon froze. His whole body hot and stomach swirling surely he must’ve heard wrong. Even if he heard right, it’s Mactavish. He’s not exactly great at reading people more so knowing something like that.

“What?” Simon asked his voice dark and gruffly. Johnnys eyes met his and his cheeky smile fell of his face. Eyes scanning Ghosts for a moment before stopping in shock, mouth open slightly.

“Ya didn’t know? You ave’ her wrapped round your finger! Don’ try mess with me every’ne knows it’s obvious- she’s even gon’ told me tha’.” And Simon just felt lost. He wasn’t sure how to feel. He’d never really been with a woman or exactly cared to, his life was hectic as a youngster and being in the SAS it’s not often he engages or talks to a woman other than yourself. He didn’t see you in a romantic aspect: he’d never really thought of it. You’d always just been you to him, the girl who annoys him, he’d never thought about being with you. Or maybe you were just attracted to him, maybe you just wanted to fuck him- He didn’t know. He didn’t know much about feelings.

“She said herself that she gets wet over me?” He asked again just to be clear. His way with words were cut to the point and open, hearing Simon say ‘gets wet’ so fast and easily was enough to make Johnny cringe internally but he nodded. He told Simon about that night- what you had said, what you wanted. He went over everything thag happened while you two were hanging out. You and Johnny were kind of close and as much as Johnny talks, he didn’t take the Scott man for a liar. Simon spun around on the spot, telling Johnny to continue on with the mission and take another recruit before heading for the offices, catching a glimpse of you sorting through papers.

He slipped into the room quietly, walking up behind you as you spun around reaching for something. Jumping as he looked down at you, silently.

“- Oh my fuck! Simon! You scared me you idiot.” Your heart pretty much jumping out of your chest as you huffed. You’d already been so stressed out with all this paperwork given to you- this wasn’t even your job but of course you’d help out where needed. Simon just looked down at you more, eyes squinting below his skull mask as he looked over you. You shot him a glance, then another one, then another one until you were about to ask what his problem was but Simon spoke first.

“Do I make you wet?”

“….Sorry?”

“Do I make you wet? Like horny?” You were fucking gobsmacked and you knew exactly what had happened and you swore to god were going to fucking murder that mohawk wearing, secret sharing dickhead. And Simon was no better, how can someone just go up to you and ask you that? Your back ran cold and your face burnt hot- words coming out in a jumbled mess.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And instead of talking he took a step forward, cornering you in and making you step back. Not realising what was happening yourself until you were against the wall, looking up at him with them eyes. So wide and innocent, shining in the light, but fabricated with a need. A desire.

Everything in your vision blurred beside Simon, it was like you were back in bed. Lost in your dream world, slipping your hand into your panties, circling your clit imagining he was in bed with you. Imagining you him so close to you. Your pussy throbbed and you could feel the wetness of your panties already, still looking up at him as you blinked. Simon saw it now, the look in your eyes- it really was obvious. His eyes dropped down your body and back up at your eyes as he took a step back himself in disbelief.

“Fucking ‘ell, I do don’t I?” And what could you say? Lie? That would make the situation bigger than it needed to be with either you being found out as a liar or Johnny. You couldn’t admit it could you? I mean the two of you were close but he was still your Lieutenant. You could be in a lot of trouble- fuck if he wanted, you could probably lose your job. A sigh left your lips as you wracked your head for ideas. Excuses, explanations- but you had to be honest with him, it was the only way.

“Look! It’s not like romantic- I’m not like into you like that at all. I just- Okay I just find you attractive. It’s like if you were looking at some hot naked woman, you’d get hard wouldn’t you? I cant help what my body does!” Simon stood still, staring at your legs which only added to the moment. Only added to the aching need you felt

“I’m not naked. I ain’ sexy and I wear a mask for a living ‘nd kill people, you find that attractive, do ya?” Yes. You did and you didn’t know why yourself. You knew what he meant by it and he knew you didn’t find killing people attractive so instead of getting defensive you stayed quiet. You found him attractive, his voice, his height and the mask added to your intrigue. He watched as you remained quiet taking a deep breath and tilting his head to the side.

“So you want to fuck?” His voiced asked slightly deeper and you let out a laugh, back still pressed against the wall as he moved in closer.

“Jesus Christ Simon you cant just ask someone that-“ His hands met your body as he began to trace the fabric of your clothes, running his fingers over your skin slowly because he was starting to see something in you. Something sexual and he fucking liked it. He licked his lips underneath his mask, smirking as he locked eyes with you again.

“Just take my chances then?”

[daintylovers]

Moments in Love

Stiles Stilinski x Reader

A/N: based off of a request from @beyond-the-stars-fairy

"Hey, can I request a season one stiles falling in love with the reader!"

ur wish is my command <3

Summary: Glimpses of Stiles falling in love with you, throughout Season One.

1.

If anyone were to ask Stiles who the girl of his dreams was, he would say you in a heartbeat. It felt like you had always been the one for him. An unrealistic fantasy that every teenage boy has. Except at this stage, most of his peers were moving on to more attainable girls. Not Stiles though, never Stiles. You could hit him with your car and he would thank you for it, the lovesick idiot. It didn't help either that you were oh-so-sweet to him. You guys weren't friends, more like acquaintances. But in his dreams, you were more than anything he could imagine.

So, even though Scott had just shown him a nasty "wolf" bite, his attention was stuck on you as you waltzed up the school's front steps. He called out your name in greeting and was pleasantly met with a smile and a wave.

Scott, did you see that. I mean we're practically set up for a slow-burn love affair. I swear to you, one day, she will be my wife.

Stiles, can you focus on something other than her for like five seconds! Jesus man, I show you I got bit by a freaking wolf last night because of you, and you don't bat an eye. But she wiggles her fingers and it's like your brain is fried. Get a grip.

The spaz manages to do as Scott says, until later that day he spots the new girl hanging around his girl. By the way, his best friend is looking at the new girl, he can tell that Scott is just as screwed as he is. Serves him right, it's time for someone else to feel the way he feels all the time.

Stiles learns that her name is Allison and remembers the class they share together. He won't lie, she's pretty, of course she is. But she's nothing compared to you in his eyes. Seeing the pair of you talking and giggling like long-lost friends from across the hall only makes his heart hammer harder. Even Scott comments about how Stiles' heart is seriously racing against his chest. Almost like Scott could actually hear it? Weird, but whatever, just means that Stiles has more than homework to do tonight.

But the newfound discovery about his best friend takes a toll on Stiles's mind, suddenly finds himself obsessed over werewolf lore rather than the smell of your shampoo when you sit next to him in math.

Stiles, are you listening?

Fuck, he was totally ignoring you. He obviously didn't do it on purpose, but what if you thought he was.

Stilessssssss, hellooooooo

Your fingers waving in front of his eyes is what causes him to come back to the land of the conscious.

Yes, sorry, yes, I am totally listening 100%.

Really? Then, what did I say?

You said, Stiles, hello in a way that a snake would if they were real. Like a cartoon snake with really good-smelling hair.

God, was he cursed to be the most awkward boy alive or something.

You aren't wrong, but you aren't fooling me Stilinski. I was very kind-hearted and I know you weren't listening. Guess I'll have to ask someone else.

No! No, don't ask someone else. I'm sorry. I promise I am paying attention now.

Good, because I won't ask again. Are you doing anything this weekend?

Was he dreaming? He had to have been dreaming.

No-no, nope, nothing. Yep, I am totally doing nothing this weekend by myself. Why do you ask?

I was wondering if you wanted to come to a party with me? Lydia has Jackson, and Allison is going with Scott. So I figured we could go together since our friends are coupled up.

And just when he thought his heart might explode, you added, Not as a date or anything. I just don't want to show up alone, you know. Plus, you shouldn't have to show up alone. We can show up alone together!

Yeah, that's great. Totally not soul-crushing to hear. God, you probably thought he was into boys. Which is fine, of course, Stiles was anything but homophobic. Yet, it's a tough spot to be in when the girl of your straight(?) male dreams thinks you swing for the other team.

Yeah, I would love to. Do you need a ride or something?

Which is how he arrived to now, driving with you in his passenger seat. Thank god it wasn't awkward. Sure, the small talk could have been better, but he could tell you were nervous. He just didn't know why. He knew why he was nervous, you were fucking gorgeous. And his best friend was surely going to kill your new friend tonight, but whatever. Live in the moment is what everyone says. And if he could, Stiles would stay in this moment forever. Getting to peek over at you softly singing along to the radio, windows down, the streetlights hitting you just enough to make you look like a dream.

Arriving at the party, you guys immediately got drinks and went to say your hello's. Turns out, you knew a lot more people than he did. But you never let him leave your side, always ready to introduce him to whoever you were talking to.

After you had finished, you suggested beer pong. Stiles opted out on condition of driving you home safely but promised to watch from the sidelines. So you were partnered up with some other guy, and Stiles could feel his envy choking him.

Even though you smiled at him when you would score, Stiles's stomach was sick at the thoughts he was having. You looked good with him, fit in with him. Self-loathing was a bitch.

Yet, when you won, you didn't run to the other guy's arms and hug him. No, it was Stiles who received your affections as if he had helped any. The boy was quick to catch you as you catapulted yourself into his arms. You were saying something to him, but he was focused on the way you fit in his arms.

You pulled away quicker than he hoped but stayed at arm's length. Which is where he could smell the alcohol on your breath, and his illusion was shattered once more. You were only clinging to him because of what was in your system.

With your wide eyes staring at him and the little puffs of air leaving your nose, Stiles had to force himself to look elsewhere. Anywhere else. Cause if he didn't, he was sure to kiss you. And that wouldn't be good for anyone.

This is when he spotted Scott tearing himself away from Allison, and rushing outside. Stiles turned his attention back to you and fought every muscle in his body not to kiss you.

I've got to go, I'll be right back.

Then he left because he knew that if he stayed and explained, someone might die.

What he didn't know, is that you were quick to follow him. The guy was your ride home after all.

As Stiles searched for Scott, he noticed Allison getting into Derek's car. This is when you practically slammed into his back, not realizing he had come to a stop.

Stiles jerked forward a little not prepared for your momentum, and then looked to see who had just body-slammed him.

Where is she going?

Even in your drunken stupor, your protectiveness for your friends was overpowering.

I don't know, but I have to go find Scott. Can you get a ride with someone else?

No.

Then you marched yourself to his car, him following behind like a puppy dog.

I'm coming with you because, after Scott's, you're taking me to Allison's to see if she's okay. No teenager has that nice of a car unless it's Jackson.

Fair enough.

Your persistence gave him hope that one day, he could be someone that you would be protective over. Maybe being friends with you wasn't the worst thing in the world. Because then, at least, you would love him in some capacity.

2.

The next few days after the party had been a bit of a blur for Stiles. Allison had been alright after all, and you had ended up staying at her house for the night. Stiles had received a text from you a few hours after he found Scott, saying thanks for the night- even if I was more than a little drunk and bossy.

From that point on, you guys texted a little here and there each day. It was a little slice of heaven away from the supernatural drama that had brutally invaded his peace of mind.

For example, Scott had convinced himself this morning that he had practically eaten Allison alive last night. Turns out, Allison was safe, but Scott had definitely eaten someone alive, judged by the amount of blood the bus had contained.

Stiles had been ready to discuss the details he had gathered through the day with Scott during lunch. But his plans were stopped when someone who wasn't Scott sat down at the table. In fact, a lot of people who weren't Scott had started sitting down.

It wasn't until you sat down next to him that Stiles decided he wasn't irritated at the intrusion. This was actually a really great intrusion.

Did you hear they found out who the body was? It was this old bus driver. The police think it was an animal attack again. Has your dad said anything?

No, I haven't asked him yet. But, I'll tell you if he says anything worse than an animal attack.

God, could you imagine being the bus driver. The fear he must have felt? I stopped going for walks in the woods because I didn't want to have a bite taken out of me. And now it's happening at school? What's next, the movie store?

It's probably for the best that you stopped going into the woods. Dangerous stuff out there. If you're really that bored, at least bring someone with you.

Are you volunteering, Stilinski?

Then, someone interrupted his tranquility, Hey lovebirds, are you in or are you out?

Stiles felt his whole body turn red looking at you, he could see your cheeks start to flush at the implication.

Fuck off Jackson- what are you even talking about?

Thank god you said something in response because Stiles was sure his voice would have cracked.

Me, Lydia, Allison, and her new little friend are going bowling. Are you and your new little friend coming? Or will I be forced to play with people who suck at bowling?

You turned your head back to Stiles, bowling? He shook his head, he would not fall into the same ploy that Scott had landed himself into.

Nah, Stiles and I are going to just work on homework. Thanks though, think of me when someone else kicks your ass, Jackson.

Jackson gave you a fake laugh before going back to his original conversation. This time, Stiles and you were listening, not wanting to be caught. The bell rang shortly after, and Stiles was eager to get Scott alone. But you had other ideas.

Stiles, wait up!

Stiles waited up, as you caught up to him.

Since our friends are going bowling, do you actually want to hang out? Be alone together type of thing again? We could hang out at your house and I'll bring snacks!

Yep, being friends with you was definitely better than nothing.

Of course, Stiles said yes, which is how he ended up with you falling asleep on his shoulder. You had let him pick the movie, shoving homework aside. Naturally, he had picked Star Wars, after you had said you hadn't seen any of them. The two of you had already been hanging out since 4pm, so when he put on the movie at 9pm, he knew there was a chance that you might get tired.

But there's that saying, that people only sleep, like truly sleep, when they feel safe. Seeing the soft rise and fall of your chest, your body unconsciously seeking out the heat from his body, had Stiles feel at peace for the first time since this shit had all started. His chest warmed at the thought that you trusted him enough to be this vulnerable with him.

So he shut off his laptop and debated on waking you, but he could feel the lack of sleep on his part rapidly catching up to him. A nap wouldn't hurt. He could set an alarm for thirty minutes and then wake you up to go home. It wouldn't be totally weird if he fell asleep next to you, right? His eyes made up his mind, as his eyelids became heavier and heavier the longer he had this internal debate with himself. Just thirty minutes to be selfish and envision a life where this was every day, and then he would be fine.

3.

Thirty minutes turned into a lot longer than thirty minutes, the two of you waking up to being tangled in the arms of the other. Stiles being Stiles, made it awkward by trying to not make it awkward. But you handle it like a champ, much to Stiles's liking.

Oh my god, stop freaking out Stilinski. I sleep with all my friends. this just means your status has risen from schoolmate to friend level three.

Yeah, being your friend is 100% better than nothing. Especially if that first part was true.

After Stiles calmed down, you guys got dressed and went out for breakfast.

Stiles should have known that something this great would only be followed by literal horrors. For starters, everyone's least favorite werewolf, Derek, decided to involve Scott and him in his pity party bullet hole wound. Stiles was sure that he would never forget the vision of holding a bone saw and being prepared to cut a guy's arm off. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that moment.

You, however, would have the same type of moment a few days later, at the movie store. You had been searching for a new movie for movie night with Stiles. Hanging out with him had become your own personal brand of heroin, soaking up the minutes like a sponge.

It was in the romance aisle, that you heard a familiar voice calling out for help.

The Notebook? Really Jackson, I never thought you were a sentimental type of guy.

Jackson spotted you in the aisle adjacent, coming up to look with you.

Trust me, I'm not. It's for Lydia.

For some reason, this store had every movie but The Notebook. And there was not another soul around. It was after that realization, that goosebumps rose on your arms. Something was wrong.

The lights started to flicker and Jackson held out his arm, to keep you behind him. He felt it too.

But you guys couldn't just stand there, so you swerved and started walking in front of him. Turning the corner, you felt your breath catch in your throat. Someone else had been here, in with you guys. But from the way his body was crumpled like a piece of paper, he wasn't really here with you guys anymore.

You felt Jackson come up behind you and let out a gasp. Turning to face him, you said, We gotta leave. Like now.

Jackson turned around, ready to take the lead, when a monstrous figure emerged out of the very aisle we had just been in.

The size of its body was a quick indicator that this thing was definitely not human. But, way too beefed up to be any animal you knew of. Jackson started taking tiny steps back. Maybe the thing was blind and hadn't spotted you yet.

You guys quickly made your way into a different aisle, with you holding a hand over your mouth to silence your breathing. Jackson made sure that this time you wouldn't sneak around him, his chest and arm locking you in place, with his head turned around to keep a lookout.

The thing completely walks past you guys, and for a second you believe that it really might be blind. But then the shelves start a domino chain and Jackson only has a split second to decide whether he'll save you or himself.

The former jackass, shoves you out of the aisle, as the shelf next to you guys collapses on top of him, crushing his legs.

Your head swerves around, trying to locate the beast, but you come up empty. It wasn't blind, it was playing with you guys. The way a child plays with its food. You stand and bend down ready to try and lift the shelf off Jackson.

Stop, stop, stop, he whispers, Just go. I'll be okay, but you won't. Go.

Shut up, you whisper back, I'm not leaving you.

It's then that a growl erupts through the air. The creature has come back to finish you guys off. Out of fear, you try even harder to lift the shelf as the animal slowly starts to approach you guys.

Fuck, fuck fuck, you chant, the furniture not budging.

With a final tug, you stumble back and fall onto the floor. This is where you die, on a dirty floor while your friend watches, probably also about to die.

But the creature does the strangest thing. It walks over to Jackson, paying you no mind as your instincts take over and you scramble a bit away. It digs its claws into Jackson next and the boy lets out a guttural scream, both out of terror and pain. The beast removes its claws and turns to face you.

Quick as lightning, it's crowding up your space, breathing its hot breath on your face. Its eyes are red as red can be, almost glowing with intensity. Its coarse hair tickles your neck, as it leans down, smelling you like a dog. It looks back at you and you swear your heart stops. It just stares at you and you stop breathing.

Then it stands up straight, breaks into a run/crawl, and bursts through the glass doors.

You're out of it until the ambulance arrives. But even then you can't fully decipher their questions. It isn't until you see Sheriff Stilinski talking to Jackson, that your mind sobers up a bit. The man walks up to you, telling the paramedics to check on Jackson one last time.

Are you alright sweetheart?

With Stiles and your newfound friendship, you've met Sheriff Stilinski more than enough times to have formed a little bond with him. He likes you, thinks you're great for his son, and tells you every chance he gets, despite Stiles' complaining.

You don't even get the chance to answer his question, because his son starts causing a frenzy in the crowd. Of course, Stiles was there. Thank god Stiles was here.

The boy bursts forward, eager to see his dad, but falters when he notices your shriveled form sitting in the back of the ambulance.

Are you alright? Is she alright?

I'm okay Stiles, just a little shaken.

Thank god, he says, then goes to hug you, overwhelmed with emotion at the thought of something harming you.

But he stops himself when he sees you flinch. Your eyes drop to your hands sitting in your lap and guilt consumes you.

Stiles, once they do a final check on her, can you take her home?

Of course Dad. See you at home.

The sheriff shares the sentiment and then walks off, leaving you and the boy alone.

What happened there? he questions softly, afraid to scare you off.

You won't believe me.

When he doesn't respond, you look up at him. His head is tilted, offering you a chance to explain even if it's absurd. It's when he clutches your hand and flips it over to trace your palm, that you tell him. And you tell him everything, even the part about how the attacker was not human.

He lets you finish, and when you do, you look up at him with wide, glossy eyes.

Stiles, I thought I was gonna die. I should have died.

A tear rolls down your cheeks and he tries to hug you again. This time you accept it, and start weeping into his chest. He rubs up and down your back with one hand, the other cupping the back of your head.

It's okay, it's okay. You're fine, just a little shaken like you said. You just need some rest. Let me take you home.

He signals for the EMTs to check you one last time before he gets the okay.

It isn't until you're halfway home that you realize, he didn't say if he believed you or not.

Do you think I'm crazy?

And it's because he loves you, that he avoids the question.

I think you just need some sleep.

You take that as a neon sign saying yes you are completely crazy, and keep your mouth shut the rest of the ride. When you arrive at your house, you thank him for the ride and then quickly leave to go inside.

Stiles thinks nothing of it. Why would you want to stay and chat after something like that? In fact, he's proud of himself for dodging your question, cause he thinks he's spared you from any harm.

He texts you before he goes to bed, and wakes up to nothing from you. No biggie, you're probably still asleep.

4.

Monday rolls around, and you haven't responded to any of his texts. And trust me, he has sent a lot of texts. A concerning amount. He's holding on to hope that you're just waiting to say something to him in school, but you don't show up.

He isn't your boyfriend or anything, so he doesn't show up to your house.

Until Tuesday comes and you still haven't responded and you still aren't at school.

As first period starts, he realizes that everybody but him is not at school. What the fuck? So he takes that as his sign to fake sick and also not be at school.

The excuse worked well enough with the nurse, who waved him off with a note for the day like she was giving them out like candy. Whatever, that worked for him.

He tried calling Scott first, which went to voicemail. He wasn't close enough with Allison so he wouldn't call her. Plus he had a feeling that the two lovebirds were with each other anyway. He didn't have Lydia's number and doubted Jackson would give a shit if Stiles checked in.

That just left you. You who had been avoiding him for days. For someone so intelligent, he couldn't figure out what had happened between you guys. Was this your way of shoving him aside, bored already?

Stiles wasn't a quitter though, so he tried calling, but to no avail.

Fine, be that way. If you won't answer, he'll make a house call. With his nerves on fire, he made it to your house quicker than he should have. Your car was in the driveway and so was another car. Probably your mom's. At least he knew you were home.

He parked and went to knock on your door. Your mom answered a minute later, greeting the boy with a polite smile. He hadn't met your parents yet. You had chosen his place as the hangout spot, so it just hadn't happened.

Hi, I'm Stiles, a friend of your daughters. I was just coming by to check on her. May I come in?

Your mom let him in, telling him that she would go see if you're awake first. They had you on meds for the shock, real hard stuff.

But what your mom didn't know, is that you hadn't been taking them. Just hiding them in your cheek until you could spit them out. You weren't crazy. That thing wasn't a goddamn mountain lion and screw everyone who kept trying to tell you it was. You knew what you saw.

Instead, during the hours you were supposed to be knocked out, you spent researching everything you could about the creature. With only a description, it wasn't easy at first. But after putting some papers together, you began to connect the dots. All of the deaths blamed on animal attacks, Stiles telling you to stay out of the woods, using Scott's regular wolf bite as an example, the other weird shit you had seen since living in beacon hills, everything was adding up.

Your mom knocked on your door and you hid your laptop under the covers, lying down and closing your eyes. She came in after a moment and gently shook you.

Fluttering your eyes open, you made your voice raspy, asking her what?

You have a friend here to visit you, his name is Stiles. Do you want him to come up, or should I tell him a different time might work better?

A flurry of emotions clouded your head. Of course, you wanted to see him. You missed him, even though it had only been a few days. But he wasn't telling you something, you couldn't trust him until you got your evidence that you weren't crazy. If you didn't have proof, he would shut you down like last time.

Can you tell him another time, please? I don't feel too well.

Your mom obliged, leaving you alone again.

Stiles' leg hadn't stopped shaking. He was nervous like how he used to be around you. You were friends now though, he reasoned, he shouldn't be so nervous.

Seeing your mom come down the stairs, he burst out of the chair. At his eager reaction, your mom gave him a pity smile, and he knew.

She's still out of it. A different time would work better, if you want I can give you her number so you guys can text.

He visibly deflated, No, it's okay. I have her number so I'll keep in touch. Thank you.

The ball was in your court, and he had never felt sicker with want.

5.

You woke up from your nap and checked your messages immediately. Just because you weren't responding to Stiles, didn't mean you weren't reading them.

But instead, your phone was barren aside from one text from Scott. That was weird considering you guys weren't super close or anything.

Opening it, you felt your heart drop.

Stiles is in danger. You need to get to the school, the creature is back. Please help him.

All common sense went out the window as you read those first words, Stiles is in danger.

You didn't question how Scott knew about the creature to why he wanted you specifically to save his best friend. Or even why at the school? The only thing in your head that had alarms going off was Stiles being in danger.

You throw a sweater over your shirt and put on some shoes. Attire really was the least of your concerns right now. Thankfully your parents were asleep, so you snuck out the door and drove to the school.

You arrived at the same time another familiar car did.

Jackson, what are you doing here? You said, after getting out of the car.

Allison answered, I got a text from Scott telling me to meet him here. We were all going on a double date again. But he's like an hour late.

This was a setup, and you guys were screwed.

You guys have to get out of here. I got a text from Scott too, saying Stiles was in danger. But it's not real. Jackson, it's that thing.

Allison jumped in before Jackson could, What thing? Also no way are we leaving you here, Let's just investigate together, Jackson and Lydia stay out here, and if we aren't back in 15 minutes, call the police.

How could you explain to the girl that if she went in there a possible werewolf would eat her alive. And that her boyfriend and his best friend have also probably been already eaten alive. You couldn't. But Allison wasn't one to take no for an answer, and you weren't about to leave with them. So you compromised.

Call the police in ten if we aren't out. You told Jackson, and then began walking with Allison up the steps.

The school was dark and cold. We made our way to the pools before our silence was interrupted. Allison's phone went off, and it was Scott who was calling.

She looked to you, as if for permission, and you just nodded your head, eager to see if Scott was actually behind the phone call or if it was something else.

They have their little chat as you stalk away from the girl, walking on the other side of the pool.

Hey! He said to get to the lobby now, and he sounded really worried.

You guys made your way to the lobby and were greeted by Scott playing his own game of 20 questions.

But you stopped listening when you saw Stiles move from behind Scott. He rushed to you, gripping your shoulders.

What are you doing here? She didn't say you were with her?

You shrugged his hands off, He asked us to be here. but gave very different reasoning to both of us.

Stiles was hurt by your action but covered it up with more questions. Who Scott? What do you mean he asked you to be here? What did he say?

Jesus, Stiles slow down. You said, shoving your phone at him. he swiped it immediately and read the message that his best friend definitely did not send.

He didn't send this.

Obviously, you deadpanned.

Listen, you need to leave now. You need to drive to the station and get my dad. Tell him I'm in trouble at the school.

What the fuck? No, you tell him.

And then on second thought, you added, I know you know who sent this text. What the fuck is going on here? Is it connected with the werewolf?

Stiles' eyes almost popped out of his skull at your closing comment. How did you know?

As for you, you finally got your confirmation. You weren't crazy after all. Now why was he hiding it from you?

Wait- why was he always at the wrong place at the right time? No way that was a coincidence.

Was Stiles the fucking werewolf?

You weren't about to out him as a supernatural creature. Because what if you did and then he killed the other in front of you as some sort of bonding ritual before turning you? A week ago you would have begged to be sent to a therapist for having thoughts like this. But now? It was so unlikely as it should have been.

All you said was, I knew it.

He was quick with a reply, You don't know anything. Stop it.

I knew it, you laughed a little. I fucking knew it, I'm not crazy.

You don't know it. You're crazy, bat shit insane, please stop. His commands turned to begging at the end. He really didn't want you to know.

You guys were cut short when Lydia and Jackson burst through the doors. But even they were cut short when a loud thump came from the roof.

Soley out of fear, you moved closer to Stiles, and he wrapped a palm around your wrist.

You watch as Stiles and Scott share a look, then Scott yells, RUN!

Stiles practically yanks you behind him and you barely make it up the stairs before the ceiling collapses. You turn your head to look down and see it.

An odd mix of relief and terror fills you. It isn't Stiles, which is very good. But it is going to kill you this time, which is very bad.

We make it to the cafeteria and Stiles pulls me into a corner while Scott and Jackson bolt the doors. Then everyone starts moving chairs to barricade the door. You go to help, eager to not be eaten, when Stiles, whose hand is still clenching your wrist pulls you back. You turn, sending him a questioning glance, and he jerks his head to the twenty-foot wall of windows.

Stiles tries to get everyone's attention, yet no one listens to him. Irritated and beyond terrified you shout, HEY!

That gets everyone's attention, which allows Stiles to speak.

He informs the group of the windows and Allison cracks, Can someone please tell me what's going on here because I'm really scared. What is happening?

Scott and Stiles share another look. And even though the question was directed at Scott, Stiles answers, Somebody killed the janitor.

What is he talking about Scott? Is this a joke? Allison tries.

Who killed him? You questioned, waiting to see if the boys will give up the werewolf.

Scott panics at all the attention, everyone's eyes waiting on him. I don't know alright. But whoever it is, they are going to kill us too.

Why is he protecting the werewolf, you think? Then another thought hits you, Is Scott the werewolf? Is that why it didn't kill you, why he sent the text saying Stiles was in danger? Had he been planning to kill us all and then second-guessed it? But that couldn't be it because Scott was in here now. Fuck man.

One question still remained, Why were both boys protecting the werewolf identity?

Who is it? You asked, and Stiles knew you weren't talking about the alleged killer. You were smart and he loved it, but now was not the time to be smart.

No one answers, so Allison tries again.

It's then that Scott says, It's Derek. Derek Hale.

I look to Stiles who looks at Scott like he's the stupidest person alive. It's not Derek. Scott's a liar.

Everyone starts questioning and Scott continues, I saw him, alright. Derek killed all those people. Starting with his own sister. It's been Derek the whole time. He's here, and if we don't get out now, he will kill us too.

Call the cops, Jackson demands.

Stiles snaps out of his stupor, No.

If it really was Derek, Stiles would have no problem with his dad and a shooting team hunting him down. It's not Derek. Or maybe it is, but Dereks not fully Derek. You know?

Stiles and Jackson argue as you try and unravel the mystery. It isn't until Lydia gets hung up on that you tune back in.

Why does Derek want to kill us specifically? You question. Just a few days ago, you had no clue about anything. Content to believe it was all animal attacks. So why would he be going after you now?

Allison seconds your question and adds a few more, which prompts Scott to yell in anxiety. The girl sulks away, opting to not ask any more questions for fear of his reaction.

Scotts goes to a corner and Stiles moves to follow him. You stray not too far, eager to hear their conversation.

Don't you want to see if Allison is alright? Scott's kinda a dick, and you probably don't want to hear me scold him. Stiles tries.

She's a big girl, she can handle herself.

Please, he tries again.

No. You say and stand right next to Scott. The aforementioned boy sends you a curious glance.

If looks could kill, Stiles might have had you dead. All he was trying to do was protect you, and you were being a brat about it. You didn't know anything, but if you wanted to know so badly, then you would.

First off, throwing Derek under the bus? Nicely done.

Scott's eyes widen and his best friend outs him as a liar in front of you.

Stiles continues, Secondly, she knows so don't give me that look. I don't know how she knows but she knows alright.

Scott looks to you for confirmation, I know.

Fine, he starts, I didn't know what else to do plus, he's dead so it doesn't really matter. Then he turned his attention solely to you, I just bit her head off didn't I?

You look to Stiles in disbelief, who just sighs in disappointment.

Scott, I'm sure she'll be fine. Just apologize later. You try.

Stiles, who had enough goes, Bigger issues at had people, like how are we not going to die?

A thought strikes you, But if it wanted us dead, we would be dead already. It wants something else. It's like when it didn't kill Jackson or me even though we were very killable.

So what, it wants to eat us at the same time?

Scott jumps in, No- Derek said it wants revenge.

You start, Revenge against what? Why lure me and Allison here? I know I didn't do anything to cause something like this.

Both boys have the same thought at the same time, Allison's family.

Allison's family? What the fuck did they have to do with you?

Jackson breaks our circle, New plan asshats. Stiles calls his useless dad and he comes down here with a bunch of guns.

Stiles is quick to shut that idea down, but Scott prevails, Stiles, you might have to tell him.

No way, I am not watching him get eaten alive. It's bad enough she's here, and he points to you, I won't lose them both.

Jackson shoves Scott to the side and tries to yank Stiles's phone out of his hands. Stiles is quick on the recoil, knocking Jackson's jaw back.

But it was just for show, as Stiles tries to call his dad himself. He gets voicemail and it sinks in that you might be dead in the water.

Banging erupts from the doors, both Scott and Stiles move to be in front of you, taking slow steps back to herd the rest of the group. You reach out to grab Stiles's hand, which rests behind his back, and he grips yours in response.

Our only option is up, Stiles says.

You answer, Up is better than here.

Screws start falling out of place and your heart beats at the tempo of the banging. That was the cue for everyone to hall ass upstairs, and as you guys make it, the creature breaks down the doors. The chairs in the way slow him down and you thank your idiot friends for placing them there.

You run into the nearest classroom, locking the door as if the werewolf couldn't just rip the door off its hinges. Everyone tries to slow their breathing when a figure ghosts by the frosted glass. Out of instinct, Stiles crowds your space, holding you against him. The figure stays for a beta too long before leaving. It knows you're here. What the fuck.

You turn in Stiles's arms to stare up at him, and he just sighs, wishing this nightmare would end already.

You feel the same and leave his warm embrace to search for a way out, Could we unlock this and leave?

Stiles whispers, It's a deadbolt.

The janitor will have it though, you reason.

His body will have it. No way.

I can get it, Scott announces. He comes closer to us, I can find him by scent. By blood.

Scott is a werewolf. But not the werewolf. Does that mean Stiles is one too?

Scott decides for himself, I'm getting those keys.

It's Allison who says what's on everyone's minds, Are you kidding? You can't go out there unarmed.

Scott picks up a ruler and thankfully Allison doesn't slap him upside the head. Looking around, you realize which classroom you're inside.

He won't be unarmed, you say making a move to the cabinet. You start pulling out supplies and Jackson isn't amused.

What are you gonna do? Throw acid on him?

Lydia answers, Yes, that's exactly what he's gonna do. Sort of. There's everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail.

Stiles stares, dumbfounded, while you and Lydia work on the concoction. Jackson tries to help, but you don't let him, eager to finish yourself.

In record time, you hand Scott the bottle, sending him off with a thank you. He is risking his life after all, even if he's a werewolf. He smiles in appreciation and Allison steps in, not prepared to see him die.

Scott, just stop. Do you remember when you told me you knew whether I was lying or not, that I had a tell? Well, you have one too and you've been lying this whole time.

You look to Stiles and he can feel the angst bubbling in his chest. You don't say anything and it makes him feel worse.

Scott looks to his best friend, in similar anguish, Lock the door behind me.

Allison pulls him in for a kiss and you look to Stiles yet again. For a split second, he envisions that it's you two in that scenario, that you're kissing him goodbye with all the passion you have. It helps that you stare back at him, but your face is cold.

You turn away, angling yourself out of his space, and go to sit with Allison.

Later on, after you've been saved by Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles catches up to you. He starts to open his mouth but you cut to the chase, Please don't. I don't want to hear any bullshit excuse.

I promise I won't try to dick you around right now, okay? But we have to talk about what happened there.

Do you want to talk about the werewolf who has almost killed me twice? That you knew was lurking around and didn't think to mention to me? Instead, just giving me cryptic messages about being safe and staying out of the woods?

Well- yeah, kinda. He loses his momentum.

I already know Stiles, I don't want to talk about it. Especially if Scotts is one of them. Do you realize that he could have killed us too? Why didn't you tell me? Why lie?

His momentum kicks back up Because I was trying to protect you? Are you kidding? If you knew it would only place you in more danger. You didn't have to know, everything was fine without you knowing. Now it's just more stress, another problem to add to the list.

That's what I am to you? Another problem to add to the list?

No- that's not-

No, whatever Stilinski. Consider me, not your problem anymore. I can take care of myself. And I promise to protect your friend's little reputation. Just stay the hell away from me.

And with that, you walked away, and for once, Stiles didn't try to follow you.

6.

It's Friday night, and Stiles wishes that he had followed you. Argued with you about your safety. At least then he would have had more time with you. The friendship that had been cultivated now turned to ash. He had tried texting the morning after. Nothing. He had tried talking to you in school. Nothing. It was like he didn't exist all over again.

And it was unbearable.

Stiles only had one solution, learned from years of living with his dad. Alcohol could solve any problem, albeit temporarily. And because of Scott's recent return to loser-ville, Stiles figured the boy would also need some liquid courage to get back on his feet.

After more than a few sips, (try half the bottle), he could safely say that he was feeling pretty damn good. As long as he didn't think of you. Which was hard. But doable.

Scott on the other hand had discovered that because of his supernatural abilities, alcohol had no effect. Bummer. But not Stiles' problem.

You also weren't Stiles' problem anymore.

Fuck, no, don't think about her, he told himself.

Dude, don't think about her alright. She's one girl in a fish of a million seas.

Scott just laughed at his drunken friend's antics, but Stiles was on a mission to cure himself and the other boy.

I'm serious alright. Fish are like girls and sometimes in the sea, you want a specific one. And she's everything, the perfect fish. So you go fishing in the fish sea. And you manage to catch her. It's not your fault if she hops out of your hands, you know. You just have to keep fishing and hope she comes back. I really want her back.

Scott punched Stiles in the arm, and the boy yelped like a dog, What the hell man? he whimpered.

You told me to hit you if you talked about her. Said the pain would clear your mind.

Right, yeah, Stiles nodded his head. It's just hard not to think about her. Or talk about her. I really miss her- OW. Being alone is way worse.

Scott agreed, saving his friend from another bruise-earning hit. Stiles definitely was worse without you.

7.

You really hadn't wanted to go dress shopping today. But Lydia had convinced you by saying it was a girl's day and that you had to get out of the house at some point.

She was annoying but she wasn't wrong.

So here you were, looking for dresses for a dance that you definitely wouldn't go to. Turning your head, you felt someone's gaze. Locking eyes with the one person in the entire world you didn't want to see, you cursed aloud.

The lady next to you looked appalled by the profanity and you squeezed by her, eager to get away.

Stiles felt his heart shatter all over again- you couldn't even look at him? Was it really over?

Ducking into a separate section, you found Allison who looked at you skeptically. You told her who you saw and she had the nerve to laugh at you. If you really didn't care about him, you wouldn't have run away.

First of all, Allison, you sneered, I didn't run. I walked politely away. And second of all, I don't care about liars. And he is a liar.

I wonder if he's going to the dance too? Allison questioned.

Probably not, he hates school functions.

Perfect, so you wouldn't mind me setting him up with Lydia as a little revenge right? Your jaw dropped.

Like I said Allison, you recovered yourself, I don't care about liars. Or who they go to this stupid winter formal with.

You did care. Like a stupid idiot, you cared very deeply about who stupid liars went to the goddamn winter formal with.

8.

It was the day of the stupid winter formal and Lydia and Allison had to drag you out of bed. They wouldn't take no for an answer. They also wouldn't take, get the fuck out and I'm going to punch you guys as answers either.

They dressed you up like a doll, despite your protest of having no date.

Don't worry sweetheart, I found you a date, Lydia replied.

You wished she wasn't so well prepared.

They finished and you had to admit, you looked fucking great. A sneaky part of you hoped Stiles would see you.

Shaking that thought off you drove Lydia to the dance, Allison having already been picked up by Jackson.

Arriving at the function, you had just parked when a gigantic blue jeep pulled up right next to you. You've got to be fucking kidding.

Stiles and you climbed out at the same time, yet the boy didn't even realize it was you until you made your way behind the cars.

Fuck, she's beautiful, was his first thought.

Your first thought was, this goddamn idiot can't park for shit.

You look really beautiful. And Lydia you also look pretty.

Lydia scoffed as you said, You can't park for shit.

Thank you, he said not taking a beat.

There he is, Lydia said, pointing to a tall guy in a tux. He had soft brown curls and a sheepish smile. He was cute, you had to admit.

You walked over to your date and introduced yourself, eager to leave Stiles' puppy dog eyes.

Yeah, I know who you are. I'm Issac. Issac Lahey.

Nice to meet you Issac, you said looking back to see if Stiles was watching, he was.

You hugged the boy for show and then suggested heading inside.

Issac was truly nice and you were having a fun time. But still, you couldn't help but search for Stiles in the crowd.

What happened between you guys, Issac asked, spooking you from your longing.

He lied to me about something serious.

Judging from the way that he also won't stop looking over here, I think it's safe to say he regrets it.

He's not looking over here, is he?

Every time you look away, he looks back. It's like you guys are agents or something. The push-pull is insane. My feelings should be hurt, but this is more painful to watch.

I should talk to him, shouldn't I?

Only if he apologizes the second you get over there, Issac laughed out.

I'm sorry, you deserve a lot better, you told him.

Maybe, but if I were you, I would do the same thing. Just make me a promise.

Anything.

When you see me in the halls, say hi. Or if we have a class where we can pick seats, and he isn't there, sit by me. We could be friends, and I really would like to be.

This time you hugged him because you wanted to, Of course, Issac. You really are nice and very cute. I'd love to be your friend, we can exchange numbers in class or something.

Yeah, I'd appreciate that.

With that, you made your way over to Stiles' who had just been abandoned by Lydia.

His eyes bulged as you made your way to stand in front of him. Get up.

He was quick to obey, but nervous to speak.

Wanna dance?

Yes, he breathed out, taking hold of your outstretched hand.

The pair of you walked onto the dance floor, getting into slow dance positioning. His arms were hesitant once you waist, as you encircled yours around his neck. You looked at each other for some time before he broke the silence.

I'm sorry for lying to you. I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't even know if you wanted to know. I know you shouldn't have known. Knowing is what caused you to be at the school. God, you were in so much danger for nothing. I'm sorry.

As he spoke, Stiles' hands tightened their grip. Please forgive me. I miss you. I miss you so much. Can we please just be friends again?

Promise not to withhold any more vital secrets?

Pinkie swear, cross my heart, and hope to die.

I missed you too, you admit.

His smile grew wide, Really?

Of course, genius. You're pretty cool to be around.

The two of you dance for the rest of the song until Jackson breaks the moment. Have you guys seen Lydia?

That sends you three into a manhunt for the strawberry blonde. You luck out when you go searching outside, seeing her figure illuminated by the lacrosse field lights. You call out her name and she meets you halfway.

I thought I saw Jackson.

Jackson's looking for you, with Stiles and I. Come inside, it's freezing out here.

No, I swear I saw somebody.

It's then that you notice, that you see someone else too. Lurking beyond the treeline. Goosebumps find your arms once again, and you can't deny that their cause isn't the chill in the air. It's the werewolf. He's here.

Lydia, we have to get inside, now!

The two of you try to run, but the man/werewolf is in front of you in an instant. He grabs Lydia and slices her in the stomach before launching her body into the air. It slams onto the ground as you hear Stiles in the distance begging for you to run. But you can't. That's Lydia he might have killed.

Not carrying a weapon, you use what you have, your fist. It connects with the dude's cheek but he seems unfazed as his claws plung through your dress and into your abdomen.

Pain blossoms through your body, your muscles on fire while they are torn apart.

LET HER GO!

Stiles skids to a stop, just in time to catch your falling body as the werewolf lets go. Blood bubbles up, staining the dress and Stiles' hands as he tries to put pressure on the wound.

You're gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay, he chants like a prayer, more for himself than you. This was his worst nightmare.

Doesn't look that way to me, the werewolf remarks. Then he crouches down to be level with you two. He listens as both heartbeats skyrocket at his presence, fear radiating off them both. But different kinds of fear, both over the same reason, your life. This should be interesting. He takes his claws out again, and you gasp, moving closer into Stiles' arms. Where's Derek?

I don't know!

The werewolf hears Stiles' heart skip a beat, You're lying.

He moves to grab your throat. claws ready to puncture through your skin. Let's try this again, where is Derek?

Stiles panics, I'm not sure! I have an idea but it's not 100%.

Well, if you want your pretty little girlfriend to live, then you're going to take me to him. The werewolf hears the boy's heart skip a beat again.

Taunting him, he continues, You really like her, don't you. Better hurry up before she bleeds out on the field. Though she would make a pretty corpse, wouldn't she.

Stiles locks eyes with you, worried that if he leaves, you really will die on this field.

Don't worry, I'll be fine. Go. Please.

The boy reluctantly places you on the grass and goes to walk with Peter. It takes everything in him not to run back to you and stay with you. He can't even let himself look back at your crumpled form, because his resolve would shatter, and then you really would die.

You don't make a move to stand until after his body has disappeared into the trees. You manage to stand as Jackson calls out for you. You take a couple of steps before blacking out. This time, Stiles isn't there to catch you.

9.

Stiles instead finds you at the hospital, struggling to breathe on your own,, hooked up to various tubes and machines. As if his heart could take anymore.

It's then that his dad calls out his name. He only has time to face him before the older male slams him into the windows of your hospital room. The glass vibrates at the intensity, but Sherif Stilinski's voice booms louder, Where were you? What happened to these girls?

They were attacked Dad. I didn't do it, I swear. Come on, you know I would never hurt her like this.

And the Sheriff does know because you literally are the girl of his dreams. Always has been. The man calms down, wrapping his arms around his son, Are you alright?

I'm fine. Is she?

Whatever attacked her, cut her pretty deep. Same with Lydia, plus both girls are having an allergic reaction. Maybe venom in the claws but I'm not sure what kind of animal could have venom and wal on land to attack them this way.

Stiles can't tell his dad that it's not venom. Can't tell his dad that their bodies are rejected by the werewolf curse that's now been placed upon them. Can't tell his dad that now you're really fucked. Can't tell his dad that his best friend is missing. Wait?

Has Scott been by?

No, he's MIA as well.

Which means that Stiles is pretty sure he knows where to find the boy. Maybe he can convince Scott to stay a werewolf for your sake. Beg for your life. Anything to spare you from what Scott has been through. Anything for you.

When Peter asked if Stiles wanted the bite, he had a moment to think of how his life would change. He would have the strength to protect you, speed for lacrosse, and be able to tell if people were lying which could help his dad on cases. Yet, he still denied it.

Maybe he should have accepted. Would it be easier if you both were werewolves?

10.

After Peter had been successfully killed, Stiles wasted no time rushing back to the hospital. He wanted to be there for when you first opened your eyes. Hug you and tell you how sorry he was. Tell you how Peter had been killed so you would be safe.

But your body still was fighting, and his hopes were dwindling by the second. There was no cure. If you turned, you turned. But also if you didn't turn, you died.

The thought had him on the verge of tears, which began their descent down his cheeks when you squeezed his hand.

Looking to your eyes he saw them flutter open. He helped take the breathing machine off your face, so you could talk. Yet he jumped ahead, I'm so sorry.

It's okay Stiles, I'm fine, you croaked out, totally not sounding fine.

Do you feel magically healed? he asked through tears. You just gave him a look of confusion, so he continued, Do you feel fine as in you could run 10 laps?

Definitely not, why?

He cut you pretty deep.

I know, I can feel it, you deadpanned. What was he not saying?

You don't get it. You can turn into a werewolf from the bite, or if the claws go deep enough.

Your heart rate monitor spikes and Stiles feels his do the same.

Oh god, am I turning into a werewolf?

Stiles offers what little comfort he can, I'm not sure. But at least you'll have Scott and I to help you through it. You'll be alright.

That settles you slightly but leaves Stiles with a pinched heart. Cause, he is sure that you'll be fine. And doesn't want to tell you that you only have two unsavory options. Death or the supernatural.

All that is he 100% certain of, is that he will do anything to make sure that you live as peacefully and happily as possible. So if that means withholding the truth now and suffering for it later, so be it. Because if he suffers for this later, then it's because you're alive and healthy enough to argue with him.

****

A/N: omfg this took me all day- but it was fun I can't lie. let me know if you want a part two or something like a season two version with the same pairing! love you all and thank you for reading!

[fullofgutsndopamine]

Just A Spark (Gonna Let It Happen)

Or: five times hasan helped you + 1 the one time you helped him

feat: fire fighter hasan

tw: mention of drinking, cursing, mention of ptsd/trauma

thanks to the wonderful @the-phantom-author for letting me run with their idea. @medlarmeadows and @abadarkade for their wonderful suggestions and always offering ideas when i run out

more hasan here

one. first encounter

sometimes, when the thick blanket of night falls in the room, hits his eyes even though they’re blocked by his arm-he wonders exactly what he did wrong in a past life to be here.

he isn’t sure if he believes in that past life bullshit; people with cards and stars that tell him he looked at someone the wrong way, years ago, in a different lifetime, landed him here- but fuck, he did something wrong.

it’s the steady beep of a half broken fire alarm that makes an eye snap up. it’s ironic, or something, that the fire stations fire alarm would be broken, but he can’t find himself caring enough to pull up a chair, find the screwdriver, to care long enough to do something for it.

instead, he lays with his forearm over his eyes, counts the seconds in between the beeps, find the peace in the lull between the five seconds.

there’s parties to go to; things he could make himself do-instead, he lays in a twin sized mattress that lightly reeks of a delicate mixture of body odor and oil.

Last nights call plays in his head: what was suppose to be a harmless call for a ninety year old-the flash of fear in her eyes when he gets there, holding her hand and promising her it’ll be okay-

he sits up and flips the pillow over to the cooler side, hopes that makes a difference, tries to face the wall and count the markings that line the wall.

An alarm blares over head.

he wonders if he squeezes his eyes shut long enough, picks the sides of the pillow up and slams it into his ears. instead, he sits up with a sigh, pulls his shoes up and says a hail mary to whatever supernatural powers be, wills it to be better.

The engine starts up, James, his partner forever, hops into the seat next to him and they’re off.

Three streets away in a yard only lit up by a fire, you find yourself borderline pacing.

The coughing didn’t bother you. At least, not at first.

The bonfire started hours ago, before the sun had set, hiding behind clouds and dipping in and out of them, as if it was an elaborate game of hide and seek that you were losing badly.

The coughing was almost expected. Peter and Paul, the two idiots together, disappeared off an hour ago with a large container of gasoline and a glint in their eye that you didn’t fully trust-honestly, you were surprised it took this long for it to catch up with you.

“Dude,” someone, you think his name is Scott, a friend of a friend, speaks up: “The first cough is whatever. The second? Sure. but the third? Can you please get it together?”

It’s dramatic.

an anxious habit, your hands go to the side of your hand, nail to your head to scratch at an invisible itch.

"Hey," Scott says in-between the coughs, scratches at his throat, "what's in these brownies anyways?"

Peter speaks up: "Nothing ground breaking. A family recipe-"

"Oh, please," Ava snorts, "Is the family recipe from a box found at Meijer's?"

"Fuck off, you're disrespecting my dead Nana," Peter puffs his chest out, "Who's dead, by the way, you sick fuck-"

"Guys," Scott is borderline wheezing, "The brownies?"

Peter rolls his eyes, "Oil, mix.." He ticks them off on his fingers, "Oh, I added some chopped walnuts in, to spice them up-"

"Stop trying to make 'spice them up' happen. Your Nana did not say that."

"Walnuts?" his eyes go wide, "I'm allergic-"

it's a blur after that. Yelling, running around, phone calls with fingers shoved in their ears to block out the noise, frantic googling that yielded no results

Honestly, the first thought you had when you saw him was relief. you wonder if that's what he's use to; the guardian angel status, the way he walks into a room with authority, like nothing actually scares him

Ava walks next to him, although it's less walking and more running, trying to run to keep up with his strides

You have Scott leaning against a dead tree trunk, his shirt ripped off in a panic, his hand on his throat as if he could scratch the itch out-your hand rests over his, your face close to him as you try to talk him off an invisible ledge.

"You're going to be fine," You're saying, trying to convince yourself, more than anything, "by tomorrow this is going to be a funny memory we'll all look back at-"

Hasan recognizes this-knows that it's you more panicked than him, and he realizes how out of his element he is-needs to rescue a cat in a tree, reset a fire alarm-

EMS comes in first, breaks up the two of you-you take the hint, inch further away so you're not in the way, but can still hear what’s going on-if he’ll make it.

“Hey.”

your head whips up. eyes stinging, didn’t realize you were crying until the familiar pinch came.

“Hey,” you shake your head, “sorry. Am i in the way?”

The taller man shrugs, “he’s good. James got him, too.”

He studies you for a second.

“are you okay?”

before you can answer stuff is flying from his belt; a smaller pack hits by your feet, a walkie talkie inches from your toes-

he plops down next to you with a groan, like that took a lot out of him.

Panic looms. blooms in your chest, fills it, threatens to take over-

“here.”

he digs in his jeans and pulls out a caramel candy, holds it by the wrapper.

“isn’t that an old man candy?”

you sniffle but a shaky hand reaches out, grabs it and unwraps it.

“it’s Hasan, by the way.” the man says gently, eyes downcast as he unwraps his own, “and it’s not.”

finally some comfort, the rise of panic crashing like a wave in your chest as it retreats for now.

“Hasan the old man,” you settle on, “got it.”

two

"You've got to be kidding me."

Hasan chomps on gum as if he doesn't have a care in the world

"I know the medical emergency was a little above your pay grade," You hope your voice doesn't come out as shaky as it feels, "So I figured saving my cat would be more up your alley."

He snorts, rolls his eyes as he cranes his neck to look up the tree.

"What's it's name?"

"My name?" You scratch at your neck, not sure how this is relevant but if it saves your cat-

"No," hasan says slowly, "The cat-"

"Oh."

You hope he doesn't see the rising red splash across your face

"Tomato," You clear your throat, "Tomato is the asshole who thought it was a good idea to climb a tree at five in the morning when i have an interbiew in an hour and my hair is still wet-"

and my hair is still wet- your hand flies to your head, where a towel is still damp and wrapped around your head, stained and worn with age-past hair colors stained and marked the towel up

"Hey,"

Hasan's voice brings you down, crashes you back to earth. Instead of the rising heat on your face and the worried roar in your head, your back in your front yard. Hasan stands in front of you-a too tight uniform shirt across his chest, stained, a mop of curly hair and a constellation of freckles across his face.

wide eyed, looking at you, his hands on either side of your arms:

“you’re fine,” he’s saying, “Tomato is fine. i’ll get her down in time.” he hesitates for a second, considers the weight behind it, “i promise.”

he turns to the tree before you can see him flustered:

“what a fucking stereotype,” he sighs, calls over his shoulder, his shoulders already aching from the work out he’s about to get: “got a ladder?”

there’s a quick fight between you two (“just tell me where the ladder is“ “you’re going to save tomato! you can’t carry the ladder too!”) before he throws his hands up and makes his way to the small shed in the corner of the yard, ignoring you, all but marching back to the scene of the crime.

“can you hold the ladder?” he says gently, before a smile paints across his face, “can you handle that much?”

the bastard is smirking now. in the sunlight his freckles are more pronounced, can trace the lines of them on his face.

“shouldn’t you have someone with you?” you’re calling up gently as he scales up a ladder. he’s clicking his tongue as he does so.

he doesn’t answer:

“i fucking hate cats,” he’s saying instead, “murderous, ungrateful bastards-“

his fingers reach out at the branch, so close to touching Tomatoes tail-he hisses, climbs up another branch.

“I don’t think he likes me.” Hasan huffs, scaling the tree higher

“can you blame him?” Nibbling fingernails, “some scary man is climbing up a ladder and invading his space-“

“handsome?”

head titled back as he slowly climbs the ladder, “what?”

“a handsome man, i assume you said,” hasan continues, silence for a second before there’s light rustling; a branch falls, a bundle of leaves-you’re about to ask if he’s okay before he retreats back, an orange bundle under his arm, meowing and yelling at him as he carefully climbs down. Heavy gear clatters around him, and you worry about it falling off of him for a second

once his feet are down he continues:

“a handsome man,” he finishes, “who rescued your cat, right?”

silence

“right?”

“thank you, hasan.”

three

you run through the list in your head: eggs, milk, loaf of bread-

music seems to blare around you. wraps around you, makes your head pound-your only plan to try and get out as quickly as you can.

Faces pass; none familiar, all just as frantic and busy as you are-

cans of soup- your eyes scan the shelves, falls on the familiar red branding-fingers reach out, almost grasp it-fall

again.

reach, fingers brush against it-push it back a little further.

“mother fucker-“

“need help?”

the voice is familiar. too familiar. your eyes narrow, back still to them.

“i think you need me at this point,” the voice is almost gleeful, ��should just follow you round to help-what is it? chicken noodle? you look like a chicken noodle soup enjoyer”

“it’s tomato.” you grumble unhappily.

“tomato?” he turns around, head over his shoulder, “hmm.”

he looks tired. bags under his eyes, hair a million different directions, shirt is untucked and stained-a pen cap is hanging on for dear life at the neck of a stretched out shirt.

“shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“shouldn’t you be calling the fire department for something?”

“awe,” you finally smile, snatching the can, “you do miss my calls-“

“when they see your number they automatically dispatch me to you. you’re a liability.”

you reach for the can but he holds it higher in the air, a smirk creeps on his face:

“what do you say?”

a huff, “please?” you try, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes: “there’s no way you think that’s what i want.”

“who’s your favorite fire fighter?”

“what’s your partners name? Rob? He is-“

he huffs, turns his back to you and sets the can back on the shelf, his fingers still brush against the can as he hums like he’s considering his own soup options-

“hasan, please. my chili depends on you-“

he ignores you, still humming, as you pull on his shirt:

“you’re my favorite firefighter,” you find yourself saying, “it hurts to say that.”

he turns around, hands you the can: “was that so hard?”

four

weeks pass. with job deadlines on the horizon, your apartment all but falling apart-it’s easy to forget about about anyone else.

sleep finally finds you. a cold side of the pillow, eyes finally shut-

a fire alarm blares that makes you shoot out of bed. tomato lays at your feet, grabbing him, running outside to the yard, sweater long forgotten.

by the time you’re at the yard, you can at least see the building isn’t burning up. in fact, you can’t see anything. you weigh your options for a second, considering ignoring the blaring fire alarms before you hear the fire truck and groan, knowing what’s coming up, knowing who’s around the corner.

the second the car parks everyone is running out, talking into walkie talkies-

“is this you?” hasan calls as he jogs past you, “you’re an arsonist at this point-“

you go to yell back and he’s gone.

an hour later he appears. his hair is disheveled, his shoulders slump. he walks next to his partners, something in his hand-

“if you need cooking lessons, i volunteer,” hasan says, “i can teach you how to fucking make ramen-“

“why do you assume that i’m behind all bad things that happen here?”

“your track record doesn’t help,” he says, “to begin with. and this has your name written all over it. please,” he stops, drops the pan and claps his hands together as if begging: “let me teach you how to cook.”

“it wasn’t fucking me!”

his eyes narrow: “Please. no one believe you-“

“you’re a dick. don’t you have a donut to eat? or-“

“that’s police officers, idiot.” he huffs, “and fuck them, anyways. look-“

he stops, leans into you, “i know just the place. i’ll teach you-“

“you aren’t teaching me how to cook! and it’s not me!”

“fine,” his eyes narrow, “but the next call here, if it’s yours, i take you to a cooking class-“

“what-“

“even if it isn’t your call. you owe me a date.”

his hand outstretched to you: “a deals a deal-“

“what’s in it for me?”

“i’ll leave you alone.”

you groan, knowing that’s not going to happen. sunrise threatens to fall over the horizon, and you know he won’t give up anytime soon-

your hand falls into his-larger and calloused-slips into his like a missing puzzle piece, like a perfect piece-

“it’s a deal.”

five

look, this isn’t bribing.

but after your fourth call to your apartment this month, you figured you at least owed them something for coming out-even if they somehow always sent just Hasan out-

you couldn’t sleep, anyways. or at least, that’s your excuse. the tray of baked goods threatens to fall out of the seat any second.

The door to the station is open, all the workers walking around, half suspenders down, shirts untucked, plates of food half eaten-

you couldn’t find your guy in the line up,is your first thought. before you quickly shake your head, trying to get that idea out as quickly as it came. he isn’t your guy. if anything, he’s the pain in the ass who keeps saving your ass-

putting the car in park, saying a prayer before grabbing the plate and walking in, hoping you look more confident than you feel.

“Well,” one of the firefighter smirks as you show up, “have any batteries that need to be changed?” he teases, “or is cilantro in trouble? hasan hasn’t shut up-“

“it’s tomato,” hasan appears behind him, “i know my mortal enemies name.”

“look what the cat dragged in-“

“it’s almost like you’re at the place where i work. imagine that-“

“i made brownies.”

the guy next to him immediately perks up, grabs the plate and pulls back tinfoil: “thank you!”

hasan stops him before he can run off, grabs a brownie before he can leave, eyes it as you stand in front of him.

“so,” he says, “what’s the trick with this? i don’t have any allergies-“

“damn. nut allergies are the most common allergies. i thought that’s how i could take you out-“

“and they aren’t burned-“

“that wasn’t me with the ramen, you dick.”

“these look good.”

“always the tone of surprise,” you roll your eyes, “most people would say thank you.”

“why would i say thank you before I’m potentially poisoned?”

“you’re insufferable.”

“here,” he smirks, “you take the first bite.”

“i’m not hungry-“

“that’s exactly what someone who poisoned food would say to get out to eating it.”

“you’re a dick, give it to me.”

“ah,” he says instead when you reach for it, his hand still on the brownie as he leans forward, a hand cupped under your mouth as he goes to feed you the bite.

“this is outrageous,” you roll your eyes as pink rises up, but don’t put up more of a fight as it makes contact, as you bite off, “it’s delicious”

he watches you carefully as you chew

“see?” you roll your eyes: “now you.”

“eh?” he shrugs, “i don’t know how hungry i am-“

you gasp and he giggles, before shoving it in his mouth:

“not bad.” he settles on.

+1

“if you’re looking for your guy, he called in sick.”

you aren’t proud of the fact that they know who you’re really here for, and less that you know the man who yelled that-Michael-will proudly tell hasan that.

“what?” you tease, “the big baby can’t handle a little bit of a cold?”

he snorts: “he did the kids fire safety at the elementary school this week-he blames them.”

“what a baby.”

you try and make polite small talk. they’re all fine-the entire time, thinking of the plan you’re already cooking in your head.

everyone knows where he lives. the house was famous before the newest fire fighter bought it (and when you’re in a small town like this, a new guy on the team is a big deal, gets around) and in the center of town, you pass it every day on your way to and from work: seeing him leave in the morning, at night, still in his uniform, shirt untucked and wrinkly as he moves around his front yard: tends to the garden on the side of the house (looks like he’s very proud of his herbs he’s growing, at least) hunched over as he flicks his tongue and has a small ceramic bowl of kibble for the gang of cats that seem attached to him-

a quick stop at the only grocery store in town, the paper bag of groceries on your lap, your stomach bubbles and bursts as you worry your lip about this-

you park the car and find yourself in front of his house before you can talk yourself out of it.

tapping your foot, waiting for him to answer-

“hullo?”

he still looks good, even sick.

glasses crooked on his face, his hair a mess, the tip of his nose is red, lines over his freckles from a pillow-

he groans. stands in the doorway, his hand against the doorframe.

“i’m off duty,” he tries, “you’ll have to put out your own fire-“

“heard the kids made you sick,” you say instead, ruffling through the plastic bag on your wrist, “nothing ramen can’t help.”

“ramen?” he laughs, “like-“

“it wasn’t me!” you insist, can feel your heart thump in your ears, “let me redeem myself; make you some soup.”

“i can’t call the fire department-“

“if i start a fire i’ll put it out myself, i promise.”

he laughs: “i guess i’d like to see that.”

comfortable silence for a second.

“so?” you push, “the soup?”

his eyes narrow for a second before his hand slowly slides up the doorframe, an invitation in-you duck and act like you can’t see the smile light up his face

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi was just going through the post on “hale” which was searched cause my cat is such a mediating little baby and it was a pic of stiles flirting with Derek and Scott just validating and hyping stiles up, and I wanted to know if you know or can recommend some good Scott himbo fanfics, just him being a dude bro himbo who loves stiles so much, especially with working hard to get Stiles and Derek together.

Thank you!!,! It can included as many himbo as you like!,!!!!

Yeah!

The Matchmaking Alpha (or Two Dumb Love Birds Attack) by NathTE

(1/? I 300 I Teen)

Scott was tired of seeing Stiles and Derek dancing around each other, which made it even more frustrating as he was the one both chose to come to talk about the other.

So, he decided he was going to help them realize, that their supposedly unrequited love, wasn’t that unrequited anyway.

Come Over Here And Make Me by tabbytabbytabby

(1/1 I 1,759 I Teen)

Stiles and Derek get stuck together when Scott and Mason team up and find a way to keep them trapped at Derek's. It works out better than they expected.

For the prompts: “Looks like we’re gonna be stuck here for a while.” and “Come over here and make me.”

McLinski's by StaciNadia

(1/1 I 3,075 I General)

Derek is a coffee snob looking for some good coffee, but what he finds is bad coffee jokes and maybe a whole lot more.

ones you never expected by Marishna

(1/1 I 3,832 I Mature)

A few seconds later Stiles and Derek heard the elevator start its laborious descent to the ground floor.

Stiles kept his head buried in one of the new books he picked up, scanning the passages for any keyword or phrasing that sounded similar to what their allied San Bernadino pack friends were dealing with. Finally, after three long, drawn-out minutes, Derek dropped his pen to the table and pushed back from it.

“They’re gone,” he told Stiles who stuck a piece of paper between the pages to mark his place and shut his book.

“About time! Now, strip,” he ordered.

How To Get Your Idiot Friends Together: A Four Step Process by Scott McCall by reptilianraven

(1/1 I 4,344 I General)

"He laughs at your jokes, man. How blind can you be?"

Stiles makes this face like he ate a lemon or something. "Are we talking about the same guy here? Because Derek Hale has never once laughed at my jokes."

"No, he does the thing where he exhales quickly through his nose. Like when you see something funny on the internet." Scott says and oh my god. "Stiles he thinks you're funny like how things on the internet are funny. I don't get why I have to explain this to you!"

-

In which Scott plays matchmaker because he'd probably go insane if these two idiots can't get their fucking act together.

[slide] by sonic_counselor

(1/1 I 16,506 I Mature)

He’s worked at the movie theater for just over a year now and it’s probably the best job he’s ever had, although that’s not entirely a fair comparison when the only other jobs he’s ever had involved raking leaves for Mrs. Huckabee next door and doing some filing for his dad at the station.

He’s also had a crush on Derek for just over a year, ever since his first day at the theater when their overbearing and probably certifiably insane general manager, Bobby Finstock, had declared he didn’t have time to do Stiles’ induction and had palmed him off on Derek instead because he happened to be walking past the office.

# #

Working at the movie theater alongside his crush is all getting a little too much for Stiles. It's just as well Scott, and his terrible matchmaking plans, are on hand to help out.

[suuuupernovaaa]

Requested by anon. Hobie Brown x f!Reader. 'Open Arms' by SZA, Travis Scott.

I know this is all bad, but please, put a leash on me. Who needs self-esteem anyway?

Rated M. 18+. Mostly fluff.

Samantha's elbow, unbelievably sharp and bony, grinds into my side. I let out a yelp, and yank myself away from my best friend. "What the fuck, Sam?"

She's grinning at me, and then her gaze slips away, following something over my shoulder. I follow her eyeline and see him - Hobie Brown, walking towards us across the grassy lawn of the park. His guitar is strapped over his back and his hands are in the pocket of his studded leather vest. He's walking towards us and as his gaze meets mine, the corners of his mouth turn up just a little bit - which is a beaming smile for Hobie.

We've only just started dating. It's been three... dates, if you can call them that. The second date was helping Hobie and his friends paint a mural. The third was dinner, which I burnt, on the floor of my apartment, because I'm waiting for my new kitchen table to be delivered. The first, Hobie told me on the third date, was the time we ran into each other at the grocery store and he asked me on what I thought was our first date, but then learned was apparently our second.

Though I've dated plenty before, there is something distinct about Hobie. When I first met him, I assumed he was the kind of guy who could not settle down, who could not commit, and who wouldn't be interested in sharing his feelings with anyone.

You could have nearly knocked me over with a feather when, as we sat on the floor eating burnt roast chicken over my coffee table, Hobie looked me right into my eyes and told me he was feeling nervous every time he saw me.

"Dunno," he'd told me, "I just think... that you're special, Y/N. This is somethin' special, and I don't want to mess it up."

I nearly choked on my dry chicken, and the tears that gathered in my eyes as I took a sip of water. The truth was, since the moment I'd been introduced to Hobie Brown, I'd known I was in trouble. Everything about him screamed for me. I was obsessed. I was trying to play it cool, but hearing him call me special, call the budding relationship between us special, nearly sent me into a fit.

"Jesus," Hobie said, hitting my back gently. "You alright?"

I wiped the tears from my eyes and set my water down. "Yes. Sorry. Shit. I really like you, Hobie."

We smiled at each other like two idiots who were bound to fall in love.

As he walks toward me in the park, I'm smiling like that again. I can feel Sam rolling her eyes next to me. "Oh, my god, are you going to fuck him in front of everyone here?"

I shrug, and elbow her back. "If he asks."

She shoves me. "I gotta run. See you tonight?"

"What's tonight?" Hobie asks as he reaches us, and Sam begins her departure.

"See you!" I holler. "Sam is going to help me put together my table and chairs. She's handy."

"I mean this in the most pro-feminist, anti-sexist way possible, but you've got a man now. I can put together your furniture," Hobie says with a teasing grin, and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me close to him. "Or, I can bring you a pizza after you work. Christen the new table."

I press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Perfect. Around 8? Shouldn't take us too long."

It's embarrassing, how I melt in this man's arms. When he mentions Christening the kitchen table, I don't think of eating food there. I think of myself, laid back, legs spread, Hobie between them...

But pizza with Hobie and my best friend is good, too. Jesus, I need to pull myself together, hold on to my dignity and self-respect as long as I can.

Hobie dips me backwards a little bit, and presses a firm kiss to my mouth, letting his lips linger on mine for a long time. My head is spinning when he finally sets me upright again. "Maybe once Sam leaves, we can Christen the table another way," he whispers, and a shiver runs up my spine.

I don't really need self-respect, do I?

[boltwrites]

Rough Handling

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (AMAB, masculine) Rating: E Tags: Face-fucking, Blowjobs, Masks

Anon Requested: Reader using Logan’s helmet as blowjob handles 😩

A/N: There is actually a line in here where I could have dropped a perfectly placed, Logan-accurate bub, but didn't out of principle. First person to spot where it goes wins a prize lmao

"You know," you started, gazing down at Logan's discarded cowl as it lay in your lap. "I think Wade had a point."

"About what?" Logan asked, frowning as he tried to scrounge together the rest of his laundry. You'd snatched the cowl up as soon as it had been uncovered in the back of the closet, and you'd pounced on it like some kind of creature. Logan had let you have it, waving you off in favor of actually doing something about the piles of dirty socks around the place.

"These are some pretty hefty blowjob handles," you grinned, sliding your hands over the wing-like portions of the cowl, even twisting your wrist like you were revving up a bike. Logan shot you a deadpan stare, before rolling his eyes and throwing a pair of jeans into the laundry basket.

"Fuck off," he replied, shaking his head as he moved on to the things on your side of the bed. "Not like I designed the thing. Still think Scott had it out for me."

He huffed - it almost sounded like a little growl. You laughed, rolling your eyes at the fact he took this as a jab against his costume, and not the proposition it was.

"I'm not making fun of your outfit, Wolvie," you laughed, shooting him a silly grin as you turned the cowl around, wiggling it as you said his little superhero nickname. "I think we should try it out."

He peeked over the bed, a pair of your underwear in his hand as he shot you a withering glare.

"You're not serious."

"Oh, I'm serious," you insisted, nodding the cowl in your hand. Logan huffed as he turned away, gathering up the last of the laundry and balancing the basket against his hip.

"Well, you look like an idiot," Logan replied. But - importantly - he didn't say no. And he was very upfront with you about shit he didn't want to do, so you were notably intrigued.

"But you would look better with your lips wrapped around me in the cowl..." you teased, an eyebrow raised and a little sly smile on your lips. "I'll even let you fuck me in the suit after."

"Both of those things seem like shit you're into," Logan countered, but you couldn't help noticing how the corner of his lip twitched a little. The little almost-smile. "And there's only half a suit left."

"Oh no, just the mask on while we fuck-" you fanned yourself with the cowl like you were so scandalized. "What a horrible turn off -"

"Shut up." Logan rolled his eyes again, but this time it was with a stupid smirk. "Let me get this load in first. Ah ah-"

You had definitely opened your mouth to comment, but he tilted his head to the side, eyes wide and finger outstretched as he dared you to make a dirty joke. Your lips stayed firmly shut. You were not going to risk face-fucking Logan Howlett over a cheap cum joke. You weren't Wade Wilson.

But you were, however, already half hard at the thought of it. Was the whole thing stupid? Yes, absolutely. But as you undressed so you could make yourself comfortable at the end of the bed, you couldn't help the thrill that rushed through you when you caught a glimpse of the cowl in your periphery. You thought everything about Logan was hot - even the parts that others might thing were scary, or even a little dorky. The claws, the scowls - but also the bright yellow of his suit, the little curly cowlicks in his hair. And, maybe most of all, you liked being a little goofy with Logan. Making him laugh, making him smile. And you knew this was going to be that kind of fuck.

You knew it when he walked in from dealing with the laundry, took one look at you and asked, eyebrow raised. "What, me in just the mask, you in your fucking socks?"

You quelled a snort as you looked down - white nike crew socks still on your feet. You'd gotten so lost in your thought you'd stripped down bare ass naked, dick out, socks still on.

"What, they're not as hot as thigh highs or something?" You laughed back. He grinned in reply as you peeled yourself out of them, sauntering over to inspect the cowl. He shook his head - like he was questioning the life decisions that led him to this moment - before he slid it on.

Oh. Ok. Logan in jeans, a white T-shirt, and the mask? Kind of hot, you weren't gonna lie. Your dick twitched in interest.

"Oh, come on," Logan snorted, unable to contain himself. "Really?"

"Honestly, I think you've given me some kind of complex," you tried to defend yourself. "Remember the time you wore that yellow shirt to the bar-"

"Mhm, vividly," Logan hummed it low, smirking as he looked you up and down. You couldn't help the bob of your adam's apple as you swallowed, the way your dick plumped up between your legs, at full attention now. That's just what this man did to you, really.

Your full attention was on him now, as he sank to his knees in front of you casually, sliding his hands up your thighs so he could spread them. Your gaze lingered on those hot hands, and-

"Oh, don't even think about it."

You snorted, because he'd clocked you fantasizing about his claws dead-on.

"Hey, a man can dream," you chuckled, breathless as Logan repositioned himself between his legs so that now the scruff on his jaw could scrape along the inside of your thighs. So close, but so far.

You were pretty sure Logan rolled his eyes, but you couldn't tell because of the mask - oh man. You reached out, half believing that he'd slap your hands away, before you wrapped them around the curved bits - the blowjob handles. He was - wow. He was really letting you do this.

And he was into it - he just didn't project it like you did. Or, maybe it was more accurate that he was into you. As you were distracted with his cowl, he'd started to press kisses to your thigh, sinking down lower in his stands as his breath ghosted over your dick.

Most of the time when he did this for you, he was in control. He'd hold your hips down and take you into his mouth at his own pace, smirking when you whimpered at how much attention he paid to the tip, or when you whined at how long he licked you up and down instead of just sucking your cock already.

But like this - like this, you could gain some of that control back. Logan nuzzles into the seam between your thigh and dick, licked a long, wet stripe from base to tip - and then you applied just the smallest bit of pressure to the handles on his mask, and Logan made a little shocked noise in the back of his throat, stilling in his tracks as he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh no. None of that this time," you insisted, grinning as you adjusted your grip on his cowl. "Come on. Let me fuck your face."

Without being able to look at his eyes, Logan's expression was unreadable. This wasn't something you did with him often - and for a split second you wondered if you'd taken this whole joke too far.

That was, until Logan's lips parted. Just barely, at first, before he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out like you'd done so many times before for him. But oh - he rolled his jaw as he opened wide, squared his shoulders. This wasn't just an invitation. It was a challenge.

You removed a hand from the mask, if only to angle your dick to Logan's mouth, bouncing off his tongue with a little hitch of your breath before you rolled your hips, lips wrapping around you as the both of you found your places. It took you another breath to center yourself, to wrap your hands tight around that mask.

The first roll of your hips was experimental, slow and steady as you bit your lip, learned to tilt down Logan's head just a bit as you guided him with the cowl. He made a low noise in his throat - approval? A moan? you didn't know. You did know that he slid his tongue along your shaft like he knew you went crazy for, and you gasped at the feeling of it, his thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs only serving to distract you further.

You built up a rhythm - hips rocking faster, deeper into his mouth, but never quite hitting the back of his throat. Logan took you with no complaints, head bobbing in time with how you dragged him along your cock by his mask, trying your best to keep your breathing steady, to make all this last.

But, try as you might, there was still something missing. You couldn't fuck his throat deep, not as hard as you wanted to, and his hands on your thighs were distracting enough that you wished you'd invested in some adamantine sex cuffs. You needed more control.

So, you took it. You stilled your hands, your hips, and then you stood. You didn't bother telling Logan what you were about to do - you didn't need to. After all, you were the one guiding him this time. And you did it well - hands on his mask firm enough to help guide him as you stood, letting him shift his weight and steady himself with a hand against your knee. You moaned at the new angle - it was so much easier to thrust into him like this, and you knew that with the advantage of forward momentum, you could fuck his throat raw.

"Oh, yeah-" you breathed out, as Logan swallowed roughly around you - it was clear he understood the implications of the new angle too, bracing himself with a wider stance, knees further apart, hands tracing your hips more as a way to keep himself steady than to quell your thrusts. And when he looked up at you - well, obviously, the mask was in the way. But just the fact that he bothered to try to meet your eyes had you smirking.

"Ready?" you asked him, your voice almost teasing. The low grumble he replied with reverberated all along your dick, and you shivered at the feeling. Oh, he was ready.

So, you gave him what you promised. Tilted his head back just slightly, and with your fingers wound tight around that mask, you speared his mouth on your cock, his throat squeezing around your tip as you cried out, grinding deeper into that heat before you pistoned your hips out. You yanked him forward by that cowl, then back off with your hips - and despite the wet choking noises he made, Logan only urged you to fuck him more - harder, faster. His hands wrapped around your ass, squeezing tight, willing your hips back into the vice of his throat, like you could somehow force your way even deeper.

It had you crying out, nails catching at the feeling of that mask, your pace stuttering the closer you got, thighs shaking as you rammed the back of Logan's throat again and again, just to feel how tight he squeezed your cock. Between thrusts you could see how it affected him, too - how he'd sunk low in his stance, no longer able to kneel upright with how hard you were fucking his face. His shoulders were slumped, one of his hands now cupped against the bulge in his jeans - how hard he was from you ruining his throat.

And that was it - the image of him hard because of this, pliant and desperate and blissed because of how you thrust ragged into his mouth. That's what finally sent you over the edge, burying Logan's nose into curls at your base as you cried out his name, his throat convulsing around you as he struggled to take all you gave him.

Your knees damn near gave out afterwards, shaky as you released your vice grip on Logan's mask, pulling out of his mouth with a groan. You'd left a mess at the corner of his mouth, over his lips - it almost made you twitch to life again, with how good he looked.

Maybe Wade did have good ideas sometimes.

[christinesficrecs]

hello chrissy poo! please save me and recommend me some accidental baby acquisition fics. thank youuu

Accidental babies are my favorite! 🩷

I Know Where Babies Come From, Derek by DiscontentedWinter | 51.9K | Mature

Stiles finds a baby on the porch.

It looks exactly like him.

Well, this is awkward.

Foxglove Eyes by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle | 47.8K | Explicit

Stiles didn't know how long the woman had him collared and working for her. (See forcing him to be a magical slave.) But he knows when he finally gets the collar free, it's the same night the compound is raided by wolves. Somehow, he ends up with them, and, in the process, becomes the adoptive father to a baby werewolf that seems to hate everyone else. Oh, well, worse things have happened.

You And Me (Baby Makes Three) by clotpolesonly | 5.4K

Pulling out his phone, Stiles said, “I’m sure dad’ll be thrilled to be woken up at two in the morning for an off the books amber alert, but he’ll suck it up.”

He’d only taken a few steps away before Derek said his name. Stiles turned back to see one of those little grabbing hands reaching out for him. Her eyes were brown, apparently, when they weren’t glowing, and they were wide and wet and looking up at him beseechingly from Derek’s arms, and Stiles couldn’t walk away from that.

“Oh, jeez.”

He was so screwed.

He’s Not Mine by Sunnee | 68.5K | Explicit

Derek comes home to find an abandoned werebaby on his front porch and Stiles volunteers to help him out. Surprisingly, that is just the beginning of his problems.

Bundle of Accidental Joy by tearsandholdme | 69.9K | Mature

Stiles is just trying to live a simple life. Have a job, pay his rent, and survive enough to eat his next meal. But then he's fired from his job, watches a mother abandon her baby, tries to stop her and picks the baby up, and now everyone thinks the baby is his. Even his very handsome and moody boss, Derek Hale, who forces the responsibility onto him at the cost of keeping his job or else.

Reasonable to Assume by  Saucery | 32,476 | dropbox link

“You’re a werewolf! He’s a werebaby! How can you not know what to do with him?”

Didn’t See That Coming by  knittersrevolt | 83,838

Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him.

He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.

Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?

The Littlest Alpha by  triedunture | 52.5K | dropbox

Derek and Stiles have taken out the Alpha Pack and pretty much saved the world. Okay, the town. Okay, their remaining friends. But the Alphas left something behind: a baby. And this baby is an Alpha too. Derek is determined to take care of the abandoned child, and Stiles is stuck going along for the ride.

But Stiles doesn’t expect the ride to include seeing another side of Derek, or to find another way to say “family.”

The One Where They Adopt a Selkie by mikkimouse | 7.7K

“That’s a kid,” Stiles said.

Derek growled. “It’s a selkie.”

“It’s a selkie kid,” Stiles pointed out, because really, they did not need to be arguing semantics right now. “Do selkies just go around leaving their kids sleeping in caves on the beach?”

Everything With You by ElStark | 9.2K | Explicit

“What’s going on?” Derek asked.

Scott shook his head, “You need to see.”

“Would you stop with the fucking mystery and just tell us already?” Stiles snapped at him.

“We found a baby,” Scott relented, starting to half jog towards the opposite line of trees they had been standing in front of.

3 Idiots and a Baby by WithMyTeeth (Ylith) | 42.1K | Explicit

One little abandoned Were-baby changes everything.

What to expect when you aren’t expecting by MemeKon | 16.9K

The baby is warm and small and she’s all wrinkled and frowny, bow lips somewhat pursed and pouty. Stiles’ palms feel cold and sweaty against the blanket enfolding her as he holds her tight to his chest.

“What do you mean she turned up out of nowhere?” Derek asks, frowning at him, hand twitching above the baby’s head, as if he wasn’t sure touching her wouldn’t make her disintegrate into nothingness. Stiles rolls his eyes at him and bounces on the balls of his feet when the baby squirms.

[strawberry-whorecake]

Quite the Little Rockstar | A.S.

pairing: Adam Stanheight x fem!reader

summary: Adam’s feelings for his roommate are strictly platonic, right? At least he keeps telling himself that, until he finds you getting ready for a performance with your band, and you offer do to his eyeliner.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none, just pure fluff <3

A/N: I’ve been in my Leigh Whannell era for months and the other day when I was doing my eyeliner I couldn’t stop imagining sitting on Adam’s lap and doing his eyeliner aaaaaaa

Having a roommate was weird. What was weirder was having a female roommate. But she’d answered his ad and she paid her half of the rent on time, so who could complain? Especially not when said female roommate was as good looking as you were.

The sound of rock music blaring over the stereo interrupted Adam’s darkroom session. He’d been so lost in developing and perfecting his photographs, he’d barely noticed just how much time passed. 

Still… the interruption was not what he was hoping for. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger as he shut his eyes tight. After a moment of realigning himself to reality, he stepped out of the darkroom, following the sound of the music, which only grew louder the closer he got to the bathroom.

He hesitated for a long moment, the door was slightly ajar, but was it weird to enter the bathroom while his roommate was in there doing god knows what? He didn’t want to be a perv. Was it even pervy in the first place if the door wasn't shut? 

About to give up as a whole, he stopped once more to the sound of you singing along to the music, and it pulled a small smirk to his lips. He swallowed down his anxieties and knocked first–like a gentleman– before pushing the door open anyways. 

“What the hell’s going on in here?” he asked a bit playfully, looking around at the state of the bathroom. 

The edge of the sink was littered with products, some of which had lost their balance and fallen to the floor. You looked nice, which confused him for a brief moment. Nice, but in a bad-ass, edgy kind of way. His gaze flitted over your outfit, and he couldn’t help but mentally admire your figure.

“I’m getting ready for the concert.” you said simply, and he furrowed his brows slightly. Concert? What concert? Then it hit him.

“Oh shit… the Wrath of the Gods concert is tonight?! Fuck! I forgot all about it… Scott’s gonna crucify me.” He groaned before running his hand through his hair. He huffed as he caught your reflection in the mirror.

From what he could see it looked like you were about to stab yourself in the eye with a pencil, and his eyes practically bugged out of his skull. He watched with incredulous curiosity as you brought the pencil not into your eye like he’d expected, but around it. The pencil left messy black smudges around your eyes. 

“What is that…?” he asked, probably sounding like an idiot. 

“Eyeliner?” you replied with a little huff of a laugh. Yep. He was an idiot, and your words proved that to him..

“Oh, yeah… I knew that.” he bullshitted. He’d seen that particular makeup look on girls before, but the only thing he’d ever known in terms of makeup was lipstick and eyeshadow. Oh, and that black gunk you’d put on your eyelashes that made them look long and dark. Mascara? 

He watched the way you applied the makeup around your eyes, only to then rub the tips of your fingers over your eyes, making the black pencil even messier… though, it was oddly attractive. It suited you well. 

“What?” you asked, peering at him through the mirror’s reflection. His expression turned sheepish, not realizing he’d practically been ogling at you until you’d called him out on it. 

“Oh, just uh… that makes you look cool, I guess.” In typical Adam fashion, he downplayed his compliment. He had a hard time being genuine around you, he didn’t want you to think he was a pussy or something by calling you pretty… or gorgeous… or just plain outright goddamn sexy. He did think all those things about you, but would you like him to call you those things? Or would you just think he was weird if he did? 

“Thanks.” followed by a little laugh pulled him from his thoughts. You liked his compliment? His gaze softened a little as he watched you reapply only to smudge the makeup around your eyes more. 

“Does that like… hurt?” he asked. It looked painful… a pencil that close to your eye? He shivered as he imagined that feeling. 

Your laughter once again pulled him out of his thoughts and he regained his focus on you as you turned around to face him, leaning back against the sink with your arms crossed over your chest. “You.. wanna try it?” you asked. 

He was a bit hesitant, he still partially believed it would hurt. Didn't girls always talk about how beauty was pain? But also… he was a guy. Wouldn’t makeup make him like, less masculine?

 “I don’t know…” he mumbled. “You’re gonna put makeup on me?” He asked, narrowing his eyes a bit, not at you, though. At that pointy pencil between your fingers.

You rolled your eyes despite the smile on your lips, which he always thought was an attractive quirk of yours, and the gesture made him smirk a bit in return. “Adam… every rockstar wears eyeliner.” you explained with that same smile he thought was really enticing. 

“Every rockstar?” he said a bit jeeringly. 

“Only the best… Billy Joe Armstrong, Bowie, Ozzy Osbourne, Alice Cooper…” Your smile widened a bit as you continued on, and Adam couldn’t help but roll his eyes, though this time a small smile pulled on his lips too.

“Whatever.” he said, though that was the closest thing you’d get to a yes from him.

“C’mere…” 

His gaze drifted from your eyes to your arm outstretching, finally to your hand as you held it out to him. He rolled his eyes in an attempt to keep up his arrogant nonchalance, though he silently begged that his cheeks hadn’t blushed. Especially when your fingers entangled with his. 

He let you guide him to sit on the lid of the toilet seat, and watched with shaky breaths as you stood in front of him… between his legs. Only to be close to him, of course… right? 

When you brought the pencil up to his eye he immediately flinched away, listening to your little scoff at his cowardice. “Shut up.” he bit back.

“Adam, I swear it doesn’t hurt. Don’t you trust me?” 

Goddamnit, how the hell was he supposed to say no to that sweet tone in your voice!?

“If you stab me in the eye, you’re paying the full rent.” he threatened, narrowing his eyes slightly as his gaze darted between that pencil and your eyes. 

“I won’t stab you in the eye if you don’t move.” Your tone held a sense of focus as you brought the pencil back closer to him again, and he couldn’t help but close his eyes. 

“Adam…” you huffed, making him open his eyes again.

“What!? You’ve got a sharp pencil so close to my eye! You really expect me to just be calm or some shit!?” he scoffed. 

“Don’t be a baby,” you teased and before he had time to even process what you were doing, he found you practically straddling his lap, your hand holding onto his cheek. 

His breath hitched in his throat, but he covered it up by pretending to clear his throat. Your body was so warm pressed against him… and so soft.

Oh fuck… he was blushing. 

It seemed like you knew what you were doing though, because his eyes were practically glued to you. Wide and unblinking, not wanting to miss a single one of your movements. 

And you took the opportunity and ran with it. You brought the pencil to his eye, almost touching, and he clenched his jaw a bit to resist his urge to close his eyes or flinch away. 

“Look up for me.” you instructed as you gently tilted his head downwards, and he obliged your directions, glancing up at the ceiling. 

He was scared as shit as the pencil grew closer and closer to his eye… but then suddenly it tickled? He couldn’t help but pull back slightly from the sensation.

“What the fuck…?” he huffed a laugh, which only made you laugh too.

“I told you it didn’t hurt. But you have to stay still okay? It’s gonna tickle a little bit, just try to ignore it.” you reassured him as you gently gripped his face a bit more firmly. 

He definitely noticed the way you leaned into him to get closer, your face only inches from his and he suppressed the urge to groan, instead bringing his gaze up towards the ceiling like he’d done before.

Adam fought with every ounce of strength to not let his eyes shut in defiance as the pencil tickled his waterline. He was relieved when you’d moved from his left eye to his right, figuring you were finally finished. But when you said it was time for the top, his eyes widened a bit.

“You’ll be fine, just look down this time.” you said, tilting his head up, and begrudgingly he obeyed. You gently placed your fingers on his eyelid, tugging it up as the pencil met his upper lash line.

“Jesus christ… this tickles worse.” he practically whined. He ignored the smile that pulled on your lips in response to his griping. 

What he couldn’t ignore though, was how cute you looked like this. Sitting on his lap, your eyes soft but so focused on lining his eyes perfectly. Your fingers gently guiding and pulling at his face. He liked your touch… maybe a little too much. 

That thought only made him blush and he looked away from you, still keeping his gaze downward like you’d instructed him too. He knew if he looked at your thighs pressed to his, his blush would only grow worse. Hell, his face would probably envy a tomato at that point. 

You worked from his left to his right eye again, and the sensation definitely didn’t get easier the second time around. It was insufferable, like a stuck eyelash that was constantly tickling and poking into his eyelid. “Are you done yet? This sucks… you like doing this!?” he asked, his tone full of disbelief. 

“Relax.” you said simply, running the pencil along his upper lash line a few more times before you pulled the pencil away completely. And leaned back away from him which he wouldn’t admit he didn’t like so much.

“Now just rub your eyes.” you said, reaching over to grab the pencil’s cap from the sink and sliding it over the pointy end. 

He looked at you quizzically for a moment. “But you just did all that… to mess it up?”

Your little laugh unwillingly pulled a small smile of his own to his lips. “Yeah, pretty much. That’s what makes it look cool… and like you don’t give a fuck.” you explained, and oddly enough, you were speaking Adam’s language. 

He huffed a laugh, still feeling a bit ridiculous, but obliged, using the heel of his palms to rub both of his eyes at the same time. When you gently grabbed at his wrists to tug his hands away, he peered up at you.  

He watched as a smile pulled on your lips as you looked him over. “Totally bad-ass.” you reassured him. 

Adam had to suppress a pout as you slid off his lap. He’d gotten really used to that closeness, and now that it was gone, he missed it. He wouldn’t admit it, of course. But he perked up when he realized now he could see what you’d done. 

Pulling himself to stand up, he turned to stand beside you in front of the mirror. “Damn,” he said simply. Your eyes were practically glued to his reflection, and he could tell you were worried that he’d hated it. He let a small smirk pull on his lips. “I look punk rock.” 

He tilted his head in a few different directions, looking over, and practically admiring his appearance in the mirror. He did look pretty cool and that made him feel cool too. “Maybe I should be the guitarist and singer for Wrath of the Gods instead of you.” he teased, earning him a gentle elbow to the ribs which made him laugh. 

He looked from his own reflection to yours beside him, and the way your eyes matched. It felt strangely intimate… and he liked it. He tangled his arm over your shoulders, pulling you into him–wanting to feel your closeness, but easily played it off as a friendly gesture. 

“What do you think? You think I look cool enough now?” he asked, enjoying the way you rolled your eyes despite your smile, and how you didn’t reject his touch… and instead you seemed to lean into it. 

“If you want me to tell you that you’re always cool… it’s not gonna happen.” you teased back, making him laugh. He liked that you were a little spunky. It only made him more attracted to you.

“Okay, okay… fine.” he said with another small laugh before turning his head to actually look at you, not your reflection. “We look pretty punk rock together, huh?” he asked a bit teasingly, though he was pleased at the way you practically giggled. You’d never giggled before and it felt like a huge accomplishment to him. 

“Shut up, Stanheight. You’re such a dork.” You rolled your eyes, but still had that same intoxicating smile. 

He glanced down towards your lips, telling himself he was just admiring the way they curved into the most precious smile he’d ever seen, but he knew that wasn’t true. He was actually wondering if your lips were really as soft as they looked. 

“Shit! We gotta go, Adam!” you interrupted his thoughts as you practically dashed from the bathroom. He glanced in the direction of the clock on the stove, seeing your source of panic. 

“Oh fuck, Scott’s gonna kill us both.” He quickly followed after you, hurrying to his darkroom to grab his camera, looping it around his neck as he met you back by the front door of the apartment. 

He admired only for a moment how good you looked with your guitar case strapped over your shoulder, and he couldn’t deny his excitement to see you on stage performing with so much energy and passion like you always did. 

You were quite the little rockstar, and he liked that. 

It was a silly thought,  but he also liked that your eyeliner matched… like in a weird way, your matching eye makeup was a claim on each other. He just hoped you were thinking the same thing he was. 

“C’mon!” you said, snatching up his hand as you ripped open the front door, pulling him along so hastily he barely had time to shut the door behind him. 

“Hey, hey… slow down,” he said as a bit of a huff. You begrudgingly slowed your roll, peering over your shoulder at him as you dropped his hand. He anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I was just kinda wondering… if you’d let me kiss you without the guys around.” When he noticed the way your brows raised at his request he quickly stumbled out, “You know! For good luck, duh!” 

Before he even had a moment to backpedal, say that he was just fucking around, there it was again, that soft little laugh that was practically a giggle.

“Well… if it’s for good luck.” you said, stepping closer to him and making his heart race in his chest. He gently reached up and cupped the side of your face, tilting your head up a bit as he leaned in. He watched the way you leaned in too as your eyes fluttered softly shut, and he swore he melted in that moment.

He shut his eyes too, as he closed the distance between your lips, kissing you softly. It only lasted a few moments before you pulled away first, though he didn’t mind. He was awestruck that you’d even let him kiss you. 

He got to kiss you, and he knew for a fact that your lips were indeed as soft as they looked. He was a fish and you cast out the line, hooking him in. He didn’t just want to kiss you again, he felt like he had to. Until your words quickly shut down that desire.

“C’mon, let’s go before Scott loses his shit over how late we are.” you said with a small, almost shy smile. 

“No way…! What if that wasn’t enough good luck!?” he playfully argued, making you laugh. 

“Then if we totally blow tonight, I’ll let you give me a little extra good luck later. Deal?” you offered, and this time, it was his turn to laugh. 

“Okay, fine… deal.” he agreed a bit reluctantly, though that reluctance faded as soon as you tangled your arm around his waist, and he did the same to you.

Usually he hated being the personal photographer for Scott and Wrath of the Gods, but tonight he was rather excited about it. He already knew most of his pictures would be of you. 

And even if you guys killed it tonight… he was still dead set on giving you that extra good luck once you guys got home later, anyways.

[mirusuchanne]

✦ Desperate for you, bunny ✦

❀•°•═════ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═════•°•❀

ʟᴏʀᴇɴᴢᴏ ᴢᴜʀᴢᴏʟᴏ ⌕ ᴛʜᴇᴏᴅᴏʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴛ ғᴀɴғɪᴄ!

You and 𝙝𝙞𝙢 were always enemies. Enemies with some deep connection, but nothing close to positive.

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: smutt; drinking; mention of stalking; unknown gifts; unprotected sex.

A/N: this is my first fanfic on here, eagerly waiting for support!

𝑫𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔: Y/n (Rawenclaw) and Theodore have been lovers, but their relationship got messed up after some accident of Nott with other Slytherin girl, which turned out 𝗡𝗢𝗧 to be true. They become enemies and Theodore starts 'hiding' from his ex in advance to do something else.. But then the carnival party which is only held once in 4 years is announced, and the plot twists backwards..

"Y'know about the carnival party right? In two days" Pansy asked me and I nodded.

"Yeah, and I also have a plan" I widened my face, which turned into a devilish smirk.

"Whats up?"

"Nott."

"Not what?" Parkinson asked again, with a slight confusion on her face.

"Theodore" I chuckled.

"WHAT?" She lost her complete control and coolness in less than a second. "Wait what are you even going to do?"

"Just a little teasing.. You know I gotta remind him who he lost"

"Oh come on.. THAT'S GOING TO BE SICK"

"I know" I laughed, she laughed too and our laughs mixed together turned into something harmonic, the early taste of karma itself.

"But you're kinda bitchy bitch for not telling me about your stupidly awesome plans earlier" she rolled her eyes.

"I know right" I added.

Many days had passed since our breakup few months ago, but I hadn't seen Theodore Nott. Not in the hallways, nowhere. Nowhere to be seen. Well, I did know his popular friend group was going to drag him into the carnival party, since it was only held once in 4 years. He wasn't going to miss the fun, just like me. I was going to meet him again after such a long time. I was going to prove to him that disappearing from my existence wasn't that easy. He was going to come back to me just like a little puppy. Just watch.

I hadn't even talked to him. I just heard rumours of him trying to get away from me. I even heard rumours of him stalking me, following me everywhere I went. I only got to see his silhouettes in the hallways, but he wasn't there the second I looked at the strange figure.

Next day when Y/n went to her dorm, she saw a strange gift next to her bed. She went to it, and carefully examined it.

Before actually letting her fingers to unwrap it, she quickly got back and thought.

"I'm a fucking idiot.. What if it's a death gift"

She watched it for hours, and when she couldn't bear the curiosity anymore, she just went to the present and unwrapped it, closing her eyes shut, hoping not to die. But actually, it was not a death gift. It was a dress.

Y/n swiftly took the box and put it on her bed. She took the dress and examined it. It was a very short, over revealing black dress with cut just above the chest and an enormous cut on the back. It had diamonds on the side. Y/n casted a spell. Those were real diamonds. Her eyes widened. She started searching for a note, looking for any sign of the gifter. And she found it, the note on the bottom of the box. Somebody had written with a messy handwriting:

'I can't imagine how sexy you'll look in that dress tomorrow.. Almost unbearable to fuck you just right here and there.'

Her eyes widened more. "Fuck" she thought. She was turned on. But she had never had official, so-called "sex" with Nott before. It seemed.. Weird, but also exciting for the extreme side of her. The side that wanted to make love with her ex.. The side that was scared to say it in other side's face, but really wanted to get fucked by him. The side that imagined a lot in the nighttime, but disappeared in the daytime.

The day passed. Y/n woke up the next day, and to her suprise, she was scared a little. She also had an odd feeling down her center, but she didn't know why. She was in a deep confusion.

Theodore p.o.v.

I just can't fucking take it anymore. I'm afraid she hates me. Afraid that we will never be able to make it out. We will never meet each other again after Hogwarts. I want to talk to her, I'm afraid that she'll dump me and go on with her life. I've never been so scared. I'm a fucking loser. I want to feel her lips, her soft flesh, her ass, her hips, her soft waist, her wetness again. I want to hear her screaming my name, moaning in my ear, biting my earlobe, squealing to me to not stop, coming on my fingers. But I'm afraid I won't feel that anymore. Only thing I do is hiding from her and watching her every move, flinching every time I see her with another guy. And beating the shit out of every guy who even talks to her. Then watching her as she's wondering why her little date didn't come, why did she see her 'date' in the hospital, with his face full of blood and body full of bruises the next day? It was all me. I've gone possessive and obsessive over her. She has possessed me. I'm going all in today. Chatting her up will end into her acceptance, and who knows, wild sex? I'm up for it too. Or else, I am going to fucking kill myself. I'm gonna please her the way, make her feel the way nobody has ever had. I'm going to reach and touch the places in her body, that nobody has ever even known about.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦.

At the carnival party (yn POV)

I looked around the whole Hall, as I gripped my hips and looked down at my dress in disbelief, because I actually wore it. The dress some stranger told me to wear. The fucking amazing dress which wasn't as appropriate for the carnival party.

All my friends left.. To fuck and make out with their boyfriends or one night stands. And I was left alone. I just decided to go up to the counter and drink as many as I could. I ordered one, two, three, wait, now six? Seven, Eight.. I slowly turned out to be gone all blank, but to my suprise, I didn't faint. I did not even see 𝘩𝘪𝘮 anywhere, which upsetted me the most. I swallowed everything by myself.

I was going to raise my hand for another drink, but somebody came up to me and said with a deep voice:

"Try this" and handed me a cup. I just took it without hesitation and let it run down my throat in one single gulp. The stranger lightly chuckled out of suprise.

I tried to raise my hand for another shot, but he took my hand and stopped me.

"Relax, it will be too much for you, bunny"

The nickname.. It was familiar. Something Theo used to call me. But I probably couldn't think that way in that moment. My brain couldn't filter the information. It just swallowed everything and left me without a single conclusion. I looked up at the figure. He had his face painted.

"Nice mask, I like it" I looked down at my hands. I couldn't even recognize my own hands.

"Thank you, gorgeous" he chuckled lightly. "And since when are gorgeous girls like you out here, all alone on the carnival party? Where are your friends?"

"Hooking up" I looked up at him. I noticed his eyes getting dangerously low and dark as he asked:

"And why aren't you hooking up with anyone? I'm sure many guys want to.. Do stuff with you."

"I'm not here to fuck" I felt myself get more sensitive and emotional as I felt tears form in my eyes, followed with them streaming down my face the next minute.

"Then why are you here, huh, principessa?" He took my face and caressed my cheeks with his fingers. I noticed his perfect eyelashes, laying on his perfect eyes lightly. It was like falling in love with first sight. But the familiar firey scent was telling me otherwise: it was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 the first sight.

"Fuck.. You're familiar" I mumbled and closed my eyes.

"I might be" he whispered.

"Do I know you?" I asked.

It was silence.

"Tell me the truth" I added firmly, still having my eyes closed.

"Yes, you do. And I can't stop thinking about you" he said in a deep voice, already waiting for my response.

"I can't stop thinking about you too.. My mind is in chaos right now" I whispered again.. It was such an erotic whisper, I got surprised by myself.

"Y/n..you're fucking turning me on, bunny" he groaned and his grip tightened on my waist. I didn't even remember when he laid his hands there. The next moment he was gripping my hips.. Going down my ass as I felt the touch. Finally I recognized the touch and I whispered:

"Theodore.. Shit"

I fainted. It was the end of the party for me. Only thing I knew was that I finally found him, he was always right next to me.

I woke up in the morning. I was in my dorm. Familiar. But the thing that was more familiar was something I lost from my eyes the day before. I didn't want to lose him, since now we both knew that we wanted each other. Or maybe the feeling wasn't mutual? I just gulped and stood up. I was in my pajamas. I looked around and realized, it wasn't my fucking dorm.

"Good morning, principessa" the familiar deep voice said. I squealed and ran to the door, just to bump right into him. He had just showered, and had a towel wrapped around his lower waist, revealing his v-line. His hair was wet, and water was dripping down from it on his back and chest slowly. He noticed me looking at his abs hungrily and smirked.

"My eyes are up here" he said. I couldn't NOT say it, so I answered:

"Fuck, your eyes are much more difficult to look at"

it was probably the best compliment I had ever given to him. He looked at me with a serious expression and said:

"You are fucking driving me crazy"

He went up to me and cought my chin, looking at my eyes and after acknowledging my acceptance, taking his tongue inside of my mouth, exploring every single inch.

"Why did you hide from me.. " I said in between the thursts of his tongue in my mouth.

"Because I was gone nuts about you, and I still am.. I was afraid of losing that pretty little face, bunny, do you understand?" He was desperate, but I was more needy for his touch. I quickly undressed.

"I do, Theo" I whispered in my erotic tone.

"Just let me do some things to you right now, principessa" he unwrapped his towel and revealed his already hung member. I gulped when I looked at it, and looked back at him. His eyes were mesmerizing.

I took my hands to my pajamas to undress and asked:

"Did I faint?"

"Yeah, You did. Don't worry, I didn't see anything, I changed your clothes with a spell. You still might be wearing a bra" he smirked.

"Well.. I am yours, I always was, so you could do that too" I said as I took my shirt off. His eyes wandered around me. His smirk widened and he asked:

"Do what, principessa?"

"Undress me with your bare hands."

"Fuck.. Bunny you just keep suprising me" he said and went in closer, I could feel his hot breath on my collarbones. I started unclasping my bra but he stopped me.

"No, let me.." His eyes were still glued to my eyes, and his hands went to the back of my bra and started unclasping it.

This process was so peaceful and slow, but it was also eating me from the inside. We both wanted to make this special for both of us. It was full of contact, full of love.

He finally removed my bra and looked at my already swollen nipples, my breasts bounced a bit which made him smirk and I blushed from embarrassment. He was admiring my every move.

I laid back on bed and looked at him as he went up to me and removed my shorts, then underwear. I was fully naked, laying in front of him.

His harmonic eyes went in complete chaos, wandering all over my body, praising me and shining every time they went to my glimsing centre.

"You are a goddess, mio caro" he whispered against the inside of my thigh. I flinched and moaned out as he started sucking and kissing.

He sucked on my nipple and massaged the other one. He went to my core then, teasing my clit. He entered me with his tongue. I looked at him with my mouth slightly open, gasping for air as he did unbelievably pleasurable things to me.

"So wet for me" I blushed as he said that. It was true.

"You're so soft and delicious, bunny" he whimpered in my ear, squeezing my breasts tightly. I moaned again, signaling him for more. Once I was wet enough, he took my hands and put them above my head.

"I am going to enter you right now, tell me if you want to stop" I nodded at him and he slowly traced his tip on my cunt up and down, making me shiver and wanting more already. I was hungry for him, we were 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦 for each other.

He slowly entered me and groaned, and once it was fully in, he slammed it inside and started fucking my like it was the last thing he got to do in his life.

I moaned, squirmed, squealed and he groaned, fucking me like an animal. he whimpered between his strong thrusts "Sei così perfetta, principessa" (ᥡ᥆ᥙ ᥲrᥱ ⍴ᥱr𝖿ᥱᥴ𝗍, ⍴rіᥒᥴᥱss). Even though I couldn't understand Italian, his words caught me off guard, made me blush and go crazy, moaning and yelling his name as he fucked me like an eclipse hit us.

"Fuck.. I am coming, Theo" I moaned out as I noticed my stomach was curling into a tight string.

"Scream my name as you come, bunny" he whispered, he was holding in his cum too, waiting for me this whole time. "You can come" he said and I released while screaming his name like it was the only thing I've ever heard of. He pulled out his cock, erecting on my face and tits.

"You're so fucking perfect" he mumbled once again while caressing my collarbone and breasts.

I smiled and said "I love you". His face became all red as he answered " I love you more, bunny. Now let me clean my principessa up, I'm not leaving you like this"

I smiled even more as he took me by my waist, in his arms.

[gaymurdersalad]

hey hi hello world, may we get some peter content pretty please? 👉👈

>Hah! Good luck wit’ dat, Sport!

>I’m pretty sure Scott v.2 is off somewhere in Suburbia wit’ his fake wife and heterosexual loneliness. Nowhere near Fazbender’s anymore after the whole incident in Bakersfield! There’s no way you’ll be able to-

>dave, you stupid hecking idiot! what are you still doing here?!

>.. What. No. No, no I- Wait-

>WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING!?!?!?

>I CAN’T ESCAPE YOU PHONE-HEADED FUCKS!! THIS IS A GODDAMN CURSE, I-

>DOWN, BOY. SHUT. SHUT UP.

>hiSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

>Good Gracious, Dave. Don’t You Remember That We Work In The Same @!&$ing Location Now?

>steven, i don’t think this purple monkey wrench knows or remembers anything. you know how you swat bugs away, but they don’t really have any brains, so they come back to bother you anyway?

>Oh Yeah. Wow, Yeah, Just Like That, Peter.

>yeah. alright.

>get the h-heck out before i unload this entire bottle of bleach on you! oh and. say hi to jack for me. tell him i adopted a dog.

>I’M NOT TELLIN’ HIM SHIT IF YOU SPRAY ME WITH BLEACH, PHONEY!

>GET. OUT.

[ PETER IS OPEN FOR ASKS ]

[ SORRY I NEGLECTED TO PUT THAT IN BEFORE, CHRIBS IS A BIG IDIOT ! ]

[ladyisabelsblade]

My Live Reactions to X-Men Origins: Wolverine

A text thread between me and my friend.

---

Just watched the opening sequence and it’s so fucking funny when you’re high

Dude that guy with the two guns, his sequence kind of slapped

And then the other guy punched a tank. Yo….

This Deadpool looks like an idiot with the swords but he’s still pretty funny lol

Why does he know Swahili?????

Oh no! They’re colonizers!!???

But not Wolverine, he cares about black people, that’s how you can tell he’s the good guy

Little brother, breaking cycles of abuse

JIMMY

--wolverine says racism is wrong! --have u seen his cartoon claws yet?

They didn’t look that bad but I am high so I don’t care

The action sequences aren’t half as bad as in last stand

Or at least I’m too high to notice if they are lol

WOAH SGIRT OFF

--u see a lot of hugh jackman nipples

Lumberjack Wolverine, wow

Just wow he’s wow

"Your country needs you” “I’m Canadian”

Aw, I like this girl. She’s so gonna die

What the fuck is this stupid story?

Even Logan thinks it’s stupid.

Most clumsily overt foreshadowing ever

Oop, yep she dying

--lmao --yea she lasts under 10 mins thats hilarious

Damn fucking eviscerated

Manly man scream

He ruthless

LMFAOOOO AND THEN HE GETS HIT BY A TRUCK

--relatable tbh

He’s so oiled up

Damn the dramatic irony is dramatic irony-ing

The Adamantium looks like the aftermath of a lush bath bomb

--ooooh ur not at the cartoon claws yet --he’s still all boney

Yee

LMAOOOO THEY LOOK PLASTIC

HIS ASS OUT

--ASS ASS ASS

Cover up your tits you preening slut precursor

They look so stupid just do practical effects you idiots

YES THE JACKET

WHAAAAATTTT HOW COULD YOU KILL THAT OLD LADY WTF

I should have seen that coming

EXPLOSIONS SLAY QUEEN

--who exploded things?

Everyone but Logan exploding the helicopter was slay queen

--lol this movie is such a blur for me, i love reexperiencing in real time

Oh this is the bad part

Fucking blob omg

--ah yes --and will i am

I like will I am he ain’t bad

And boxer Logan, boxer Logan is saving this scene for me

--idr him good or bad, i just remember he's will i am

He is

I laughed so hard when his name came up during the opening credits

--its a great jumpscare

Local man discovers his girlfriend was fridged for his character development

REMY LA BOU

OH NO HES HOT

--is this the first time uv seen gambit in something? like have u seen him in the cartoons or stuff?

and poker? This is like combining every old lady white woman’s wet dream together: lumberjack, boxer, poker player

No I’ve never seen the cartoons man

--by far the most loved x-man

GRABBED HIM BY THE SPINE WHAT THE DUCK

gambit slays here dude

Will I am dead

--u have the best one liners omg

I’m over an hour in and I’m really enjoying this movie, being high is really elevating my experience

--its probably greaat high ngl

It’s just like fun moment after fun moment, I don’t care if it doesn’t make sense

--its my dad's favorite hated movie --its so fun

He’s right, I can’t believe you told me this was worse than last stand

--idr last stand at all ngl

Oh, well it was really bad

My man is more okay with jumping out of a plane than flying in one

SCOTT

YOUR EYES SCOTT

sir this is an operating room you can’t be here

Damn, this is freaky, I thought Stryker was a creep in x2

KAYLAS BACK

WHAT THE FUCK

oh it’s mystique isn’t it

NO ITS NOT WHAT THE FUCK

Damn that’s cold

No, poor baby he’s so sad

They were together for 6 years damn

Yo this is so dope

This fight

--have u gotten to deadpool

Kayla, now is not the time

Not yet

--thats THE thing

I know

But here he comes

HE LOOKS SO STUPID

XAVIER MY MAN

Yo the black around the eyes thing kind of slayed tho

Damn fucking sliced his head off

Oh shit damn

Do they look out for eachother because you kind of suck ass victor

YESSSSS GAMBIT

Kayla come on don’t die

Again

HOLY SHIT STRYJER

AYO WHAT THE FUCK

girl this movies good I don’t know what you’re talking about

That was so slay Kayla

But you’re still probably dying

PROFESSOR

I LOVE YOU EVEN THIUGH YOURE BADLY CGIED

LNAO THE MUTANTS RUNNING AWAY

he don’t even remember her that’s so fucking sad dude

damn wtf tear my heart out why don’t ya

This movies cheesy but it’s hitting all the right beats

Like this is a pretty good origin story movie

Probably a horrible stand alone movie, but if I pretend like I’m watching a bunch of flashbacks stitched together it’s pretty good

Oooo two post credits scenes

LMAO TEASING A DEADPOOL COMEBAJX BUT HE NEVER DOES

--he kiinda does

In Deadpool 2?

--yea lol

Comes back just to die

--good

lol he wasn’t too bad but I think I’d have a different opinion if he was sober and there weren’t already two other great Deadpool movies