#oh yeah short story. the colors looked warm to me (night mode on my phone)

[m340700]

wip

[harveywritings92]

MHA/BNHA: They get severely injured and you heal them

You're recovery Girl's granddaughter you have a healing quirk called Angel's Glow, which requires skin on skin contact to work, small wounds, bruises and bone fractures are healed in seconds just by placing your hands on the injured area which will glow blue and repair damage, however wounds that are near fatal are different story. In that case, it’s kind of embarrassing, but you treat it how you would hypothermia, stripping down to your panties (or naked) and lay down holding that person close letting your healing aura cover them, of course you've never been in a situation where you've had to do that, pretty much keeping it reserved for your romantic partner, So when you got a call that your boyfriend was severely injured in a fight and his chances of survival aren't looking to good.

__________________

Fatgum/Taishiro:

Reader's age 26.

The last thing Taishiro remembered was fighting this crazy strong villain with an equally strong quirk! So, one can imagine his confusion when the last thing he remembered before blacking out; was fighting as Fatgum and then waking up after who knows how long as Fitgum and in a stranger's bedroom hooked up to a very annoying heart monitor that would not. stop. beeping! Taishiro slowly sat up; with a grimace expecting to feel pain shooting all throughout his body the second he moved, but to his astonishment nothing happened... 

He was sure his left leg was broken during that fight! he cautiously wiggled his toes and jerk his left leg around, nothing no pain... in fact he felt great; giddy like he had just eaten an entire buffet of his favorite foods! But how did... His train thought was cut short when he felt an slender arm around his waist.

Taishiro suddenly became hyperaware of the other person, a woman. laying in the bed next to him! His heartrate spiked causing the monitor to start beeping rapidly!

The blond carefully reached over and gently pushed the woman's hair away from her face, the BMI hero felt a wave of relief wash over him upon seeing the calm sleeping face of his girlfriend Y/n starring back at him. But the relief quickly shifted to befuddlement, why was she here? he then noticed their apparent lack clothes, His yellow eyes widened and felt his face burn; Taishiro swallowed hard as he checked under blanket... why were they just wearing boxers and panties? 

Spotting a some of his spare clothes in Y/n's closet, Taishiro quietly and carefully got out of the bed; unplugged the Heart monitor before taking it off, and got dressed in his track pants and T-shirt, then careful got Y/n dressed in one of his hoodies before tucking her into bed, Just as Recovery-Girl popped her head in to check on them as she couldn't hear the monitor beeping anymore, and got worried she smiled seeing her *hopefully* soon to-be Grandson-law alive and healthy.  

"Oh thank goodness you're awake..."

"Yeah, I jus' woke up. Sorry for intruddin."

"It's nothing to be sorry for, though I'm sure you're confused how you aren't in a coma or dead."

"...What happened to me?"

Recovery-girl gave him the run down after he was put out of commission, Taishiro was in pretty bad shape, the out come was looking grim when Y/n ordered the ambulance be redirected to her private-practice which also doubled as her home, they got got one of her intern's to use their quirk which could burn off his fat, they cleaned his cuts and got him stitched up then the y/ht woman told everyone to go home; save for her grandmother and Kirishima who refused to leave his mentor until he was sure hew was going to be alright.

it was only when he saw Y/n taking her clothes off did the flustered teen ask about those guest rooms, she offered and recovery- Girl lead him out of the room, the y/ht woman slipped into bed next her her unconscious lover and activated her quirk, Tai's whole body was soon surrounded in veil of blue light that slowly started to repair and heal his broken body.

Taishiro smiled gently as he caressed Y/n's cheek making her wince in her sleep. "The poor thing must be exhausted over using her quirk for two days." the pride the tall man had felt to shifted into concern. "two days?!" he croaked he remembered Y/n telling him that her quirk can also transfer her patients pain onto her to the lessen their burdens, and if he was in really bad shape as recovery-girl described... "Is she gonna be okay?" he asked voice cracking, the old nurse frowned knowing that her granddaughter told him about her quirks pain absobtion. "Well, the next couple days won't be very pleasant for her, I may have to keep her sedated." the blond eyes started to burn as he watched Y/n sleeping soundly, vowing stay by her side and to take her on very nice vacation when this was all over, they could both use it.

_______________________

Shoto Todoroki:

Reader age 21, Shoto: 19

This poor touch-starved child was so confused and flustered when he woke up in a strange bed, wearing nothing but his boxers and y/n clinging to him very intimately, all while alarm-bells were going off in his head as part on his mind was still in fight or flight mode as he cautiously scanned his girlfriend expecting this to be a dream, and the villain that attacked him to pop-out at any moment...

After a few moments of waiting for the dream to end, Shoto cautiously used his fire to burn himself he winced feeling the pain burn his wrist, then the pain went numb the bi-colored haired man's brows furrowed before seeing the familiar blue aura from [y/wt] woman's quirk reverse the damage on his wrist, Shoto's stomach churred as realized what she had done, he carefully removed himself from the warm embrace of her bed and looked around the room for something to wear before spotting some a pair of sweat pants and a T-shirt left out for him, he changed then carefully got his girlfriend dressed into her PJs and her tucked in.

Shoto was the picture of calm as he kept a silent vigil over the [y/hc] woman carefully playing with her hair, but internally he was freaking out! Wondering how long had he been out for? and how long had Y/n been healing him? was she going to be okay?! he grimaced at he saw her wince in her sleep; even a blind man could see she was already suffering from the effects of over using her quirk! "Why would you do something so foolish?" he sighed using his cold half to keep Y/n's forehead cool he felt her temperature spike. "Love makes you do very rash decisions." Shoto jumped to see Recovery-Girl behind him and the dual quirked boy immediate bowed his head to her in forgiveness.

"Don't do that Todoroki, you don't need to apologize."

"But because me Y/n is..."

"It's not you're fault dear, Y/n knew the risks as soon as she heard you were in critical condition."

"How long were we like that?" he asked asked dreading the answer Recovery-Girl frowned as she checked her granddaughter's vitals over. "Four days, I won't lie the next couple days won't be kind to my Granddaughter." She saw Shoto wince knowing the guilt eating at him. "But knowing she has a handsome young man looking after her, should help her make a speedy recovery.~" the room's temperature suddenly spikes as a blush adorned Shoto's cheeks Recovery-Girl giggled jubilantly as she left the room leaving Y/n in Shoto's care.

____________________

Touya/Dabi:

Reader age 25 (note you're quirk can't heal his scars (you've tried) you were childhood friends with him, he kidnapped you and keeps you in his safehouse!)

Dabi woke up that morning with a splitting headache, crap how much did he have to drink? he growled taking a sharp breath as his eyes adjusted to his dimly lit bedroom, trying to piece together what happened last night, when he caught something blue in the dim light at first he thought it was his quirk acting up, but then he noticed some of his staples were missing around his stomach...

The it all came flooding back to him one of the Nomus had gotten lose before it could be "trained" and went on a rampage the villains and a couple heroes on the league payroll stropped it, but not without consequences, the beast managed to take a bite out of Dabi's waist, the scarred man somehow managed to make it home... walking through the front door was the last thing he remembered before blacking out, then he felt his stomach drop when he realized that this blue glow wasn't his flames!

Dabi quickly turned the light on above his bed and found a sleeping Y/n hugging his waist her quirk overworking itself trying to fix his scars, which weren't healing because the tissue was to damaged to fix, "You idiot!" he barked getting out of bed, then paused when he felt a rush cold air on his everything, his teal eyes looked down... Yep, naked as the day he was born, he cussed and checked under the thin sheet Y/n had covered them in, same story.

He check her temperature she was freezing!  "Tch" Dabi quickly readjusted the sheet around his girlfriend's shivering body then went and put on some black sweat pants, he quickly went to drawers and grabbed a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and put those on his y/ht girlfriend, then grabbed the discarded blanket from off the floor covering the couple.

Dabi used his quirk to boost up his body temp while rubbing Y/n’s arms trying warm her up. the last thing he needed was her getting sick, however he paused his ministrations and checked his burner phone... shit it been 2 days since the incident! He had a lot of messages from the league demanding to know where he was, He should probably get around to telling them he's alive... meh, maybe after Y/n recovered those f-ckers will live. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

Have you seen the post going around about the zoom class with one guy and his full streamer setup vs the guy whose just in the middle of the woods? I know you have a prompt list rn but I’m just saying there’s a sternclay fic in there somewhere...

It is! Here you go!

Life is better with order. Or, at the very least, with some attempt at patterns, organization, or consistency. 

Which is why Stern has carefully arranged his desk, his chair, and his equipment in the background. Streaming as a hobby and a side hustle means he has some (okay, a lot) of practice making his digital self look just right. He needs to make a good impression on the first day of the semester.

Unlike some people. 

“Holy shit man, are you in the woods?” Duck, the guy in a “Monongahela National Forest” shirt, grins as he asks this of another student whose screen consists of a forest clearing, a log, and the name “Barclay.”

“Yeah. Hang on, lemme finish getting the phone balanced.”

“Dude, that’s like, way better than my background” this comes from Jake, in front of a poorly rendered half-pipe. 

“Can’t really take credit for it, just where I ended up.” Barclay sits down, and Stern gets his first look at a man so tall he barely fits in the frame, with a short, coppery beard and an honest-to-god man-bun.

Damn west coast schools. 

“How is your battery going to last long enough for class?” Stern leans back in his chair, certain Barclay will have “battery trouble” halfway through as an excuse to cut out early.

Barclay smiles, lifting up a small green and black rectangle, “solar battery. Not everyone needs fancy gadgets for school.” He aims a pointed stare at Sterns set-up. 

“It’s important to have the right equipment.”

“Whatever you say, man.” He lifts a cup of iced coffee into the frame, sipping it through a straw. It’s the picture of relaxation, as if nothing is wrong in the world. As if this is all totally normal. 

Stern wants to reach through the  screen and slap some sense into him. Preferably while he’s shirtless.

He chalks that thought up to not having gotten laid since last December and pulls up his note taking software as Professor Chicane enters the room.

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

Private Chat 9/20/20

Duck (he/him): I timed it, we’re already at ten minutes of arguing.

Indrid (he/him): I know Ned enjoys their demonstrating the different modes of rhetoric, but this is a bit extreme.

Duck: To be fair, Joe does seem kinda uptight.

Indrid: Yes, but Barclay should know by now that zeroing in on him during our practice debates only results in this.

Duck: Yeah. Oh shit, are they for real wrapping up you think?

Indrid: We can only hope. Skype me tonight?

Duck: Of course, sugar.

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

What is Joseph’s problem? He’s got a set-up that would make a pro-vlogger jealous, what looks to be a well-lit apartment with some houseplants and the kind of coffee-cups that are weirdly lacking in personality. His clothes are immaculate, his hair slicked back as if he;s in a business meeting rather than an online class in the midst of a chaotic world. So why is he acting like everything is terrible? And why is he always arguing with Barclay, when there are plenty of other people in the class to disagree with?

“Now” Mr. Chicane’s voice booms through the tiny speaker on his phone, “if you all had a chance to read over the instructions, we will begin the first mock debate. Do we have any volunteers?”

He and Joe raise their hands at the same time. Mr. Chicane raises an eyebrow.

“While I appreciate your eagerness, gentlemen, I would like two other volunteers this time.”

That’s fine by him. It’s not like he likes listening to Joseph get all wound up and passionate, making everyone on the call sit up and take notice of him. It’s not as if he enjoys being the center of his focus. 

Nope, not at all.

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

Private chat 10/11/20

Jake (he/him): Dudes, did you see who got paired up on the final project?

Aubrey (she/her): Chicane must be getting them back for all the times they’ve hijacked discussions. 

Duck (he/him): Man, for their sake I hope it works out.

Indrid (he/him): This is going to be a disaster.

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

“Are you out of your mind!” Stern is talking before Barclay’s video is fully on. 

“Nope. And you don’t have to yell, my speaker works just fine.”

“You’re outside, for all I know there’s a ton of ambient noise.”

Barclay, phone obviously in his hand as he walks through the trees, groans.

“And don’t try to derail this; how can you possibly suggest I come out there so we can do the project in person? We’re supposed to be limiting travel and gatherings.”

“Look, Joseph, we both agree that trying to generate our own cryptid hoax is the best way to demonstrate all the techniques Ned wants us too, right?”

“Yes” he hides his answer behind the rim of his coffee mug. 

“We’ll do a way better job if we work in the same space. And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t had any human contact in three weeks; all quarantined up, unlike whatever you’ve been doing in the city.”

He sets the mug down with a thunk, “I haven’t been out in a month. And before that was only for one grocery run and a hospital visit.”

“Uhhh-”

“I cut my hand cooking. So. Yeah.”

Literal crickets chirp, courtesy of Barclay’s end of the line, as the silence stretches on.

“If it helps, it’s real easy to stay isolated here, and I’ve still got utilities and everything.”

“And you’re not subsisting only on MREs or granola or something?”

A deep chuckle, the kind that makes his skin prickle, “Nope. That much I can promise.”

Stern glances around the studio apartment, clean and empty. 

“What’s your address?”

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

Look, all Stern is going to say is that he’s seen and read plenty of stories that start with a cabin in the woods and none of them end well. Which is why he’s still sitting in his car, parked beside a beat-up Subaru, rather than knocking on the door. 

Breathe in, five counts. Out for four. Repeat four times. 

Waiting for him on the door is a note.

Joseph,

Key under mat, make yourself at home. 

Barclay. 

He brings in his bags (a matching set of three, a gift from his aunt last year), placing them in the tiny guest room. It’s not much more than a bed, a dresser, and a tiny table. But there’s a heating unit below the window looking out into the woods, which is pretty pleasant. He’ll be keeping the blinds closed at night, though; he hates the thought of something being able to look in. 

Stern’s busy evaluating the laundry closet when the front door opens. 

“Hey, glad you found the place okay.”

Barclay stands in the doorway, a basket full of fruit in one hand. He’s remarkably kempt for a man living in the woods and that, combined with the deep voice being even richer in person and the fact Stern has to actually look up to meet his eyes, has him stumbling for words. 

“Your directions were very thorough. Thank you. Um. I put my things in there, should I, um-”

“I can give you the grand tour.” The taller man sets the basket on the dining table, notices Sterns puzzled expression “there’s a piece of property about a mile thataway that has orchards they don’t really use. They let me come and pick whenever i want, less for them to clean up.”

Barclay keeps up a steady monologue as he shows him the cabin. The lower level is the living room and dining area, a kitchen which leads onto the back deck, Sterns room, and a bathroom. As the cabin is A-frame, the upstairs is Barclay’s room, all dark wood and pine colored plaid. It’s as Barclay is telling him about the woodpecker that sometimes nests in the eaves that he realizes why he’s talking so much.

He’s nervous. 

Neither of their nerves improve when he gets to his last point of order. 

“Uh, so, the bathroom downstairs is only a half-bath.”

“So...if I want to shower, which I do, I have to come up here.”

“Yeah.” Barclay scratches the back of his neck, “sorry. I don’t, like, sleep naked or anything so we should be fine.”

“Disappointing.” Stern sighs, only to sail past sarcastic and land face first in sincere. 

Barclay blushes, then shrugs, “Trust me, after the first night, you’ll see why.”

Stern does. He’s warm as long as he’s in bed, but the moment he ventures into the bathroom in the middle of the night he’s cocooned in cold. 

The morning brings cinnamon and coffee on the draft coming under the door. He plods into the kitchen in search of caffeine, finds Barclay in an pron, the counter covered in trays of dough. 

“Morning!”

“Morning. Coffee-”

“Right there, sugar and stuff’s in the cabinet above it, cream and such is in the fridge.”

Blessedly, there’s heavy cream to be found, and soon he’s sipping from an enamel mug emblazoned with a UFO made of veggies. 

“Is this all for your job?” Barclay mentioned he was a cook during an icebreaker. 

“Yep. Way it works is I bust my ass baking once or twice a day, and Thacker, who works with Mama at the Lodge in town, comes and takes them over there. Normally I’d just be there but, well, y’know.”

“Everything is on fire? Figuratively, I mean.”

“Sometimes literally too, but yeah.”

As he’s turning to grab his clothes and head showerward, Barclay adds, “You a scone man, coffecake man, or a cinnamon roll man?”

“Coffeecake?” It comes out hesitant. 

“There’s no right answer, man.” Barclay sounds amused, “what do you want?”

“Cake, definitely.”

“Cool. I’ll save you a slice.”

Once he’s showered and on the wi-fi, his day runs like normal; one lecture, reading, a research paper, his initial half of their project, and working either his copy-editing or transcription job in between, and planning his next stream. Barclay comes and goes, stops now and then to see if he needs anything, leaves a sandwich in front of him around dinner time. Then it’s time to crawl under the covers and dream of a less-stressful world. 

The next day, just before one, Barclay taps him on the shoulder. 

“Ready for class?”

“Yes…” He gestures to his laptop and notebook. 

“C’mon, join me out here, it’s way nicer, and we can share the phone.”

“Barclay, it’s  a nonsensical way to attend class, just stay in here with me! Even this set-up has to be better than the woods.”

“This set up. You mean my house?” All the friendliness leaves hi voice. 

“Yes. Look, I agreed to come out because you’re right, if we want to ace this thing that’s worth sixty percent of our grade, this is the place to do it; I don’t have to go along with the whole self-sufficient woodsman aesthetic while I’m here. “

“Yeah, I’d say you’re pretty far from self-sufficient. See you in class.” 

Stern stews through the entire session, but where he’d usually find something Barclay says to latch onto, he instead gnaws on himself. Why didn’t he just go with him? Why snap at someone who’s been nothing but nice since he got here?

Whatever the answer, how can he fix it?

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

Barclay tromps back through the twilight, done with his second class of the day. If Joseph is in the main house, he plans to ignore him until tomorrow morning. That all goes out the window with the clank of dishes from the kitchen. 

Peering in reveals the other man bent over, pulling a casserole from the oven. He waits to announce his presence until Joseph is out of the danger zone, enjoying the view as he does. 

“Smells good.”

Blue eyes flick over to him as Joseph opens drawers, “it’s mostly cheese and chips, so I’m not surprised.”

“Servers are in that one.”

“Thank you. Nacho pie?” He scoops some into a bowl, holding it out. 

“Sure. Uh, look, Joseph I-”

Joseph holds up the server, “Wait. Before you apologize I, um, I wanted to say I’m sorry for my comments. And for being so...me-ish.” He sighs, staring at the utensil in his grip, “I’ve always been a little bit tense, tried to be polite and effective and friendly in spite of it. The last six months made that harder to do. I don’t love it when I can’t be organized, when normal systems go out of place. But that’s no excuse for being rude to you, even before you invited me here. You’re just so...you’re always so calm and relaxed, like nothing was wrong and I just honed in on that way more than made sense. I’m sorry.”

“If it makes you feel better, I kinda did the same thing. You’re always so put together, it looked like you had this organized life in the midst of this whole shitstorm. I feel lik everything is slipping away, like my world is just this cabin. I mean, I assumed you were seeing friends in the city, while I haven’t seen Mama in person since April. So” he sets the bowl down, rests his hand on Joseph’s shoulder, “I’m sorry too.”

Joseph laughs, softly, “turns out we both had failures of imagination, huh?”

“Yeah” he runs a hand over Joseph's back, “now come on, this dinner’s not gonna eat itself.”

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

“You sure you don’t wanna wear the bigfoot costume?”

“Positive. Besides, it suits you.” Joseph finishes styling the fur on the head of the costume to look more realistic, “I just hope we get this done before that storm comes in; as mush as the rain would add to the mood of the scene, that’ll be hell to dry and you’ll be miserable. So, go lurk over there while I finish up getting the camera settings where they need to be.”

“Yes sir” Barclay pops the head on, leaves crunching as moves to his appointed tree. He smiles as he watches Joseph fiddle with the camera; things have been so much better between them these last two weeks. They trade off cooking dinner, study side by side, and watch movies or play games in the warmth of the heater. They have a similar sense of humor and taste in books, and are tidy to boot.   Joseph’s even come with him to listen to lectures in the woods, the pair sharing a thermos of coffee under the astonished gaze of their classmates. There’s just one problem. 

Barclay’s buried crush is now blooming in every direction. Animated, argumentative Joseph was attractive. Joseph, in all his moods and mannerisms, is devastatingly enchanting. He’s come close to telling him this, but the other man is his guest and also only here for another two and a half weeks, so a confession is setting himself up for heartbreak at worst and awkwardness at best. 

He almost blew it last night when they were washing dishes (Joseph scrubs, Barclay dries and puts away). 

“Last one.”

“Thanks, blue eyes.”

“What was that?”

“Uh, blue eyes? Like a, uh, a nickname?”

Joseph laughs, “Sounds like something from a Raymond Chandler book. I like it.”

On the plus side, if Joseph thinks it’s just a nickname and not a pet name, maybe Barclay can keep using it.

“Are you ready?’

He sticks up a hairy thumb and calls, “you know it, blue eyes.”

That same laugh as Joseph takes up his position. Maybe it’s the weird film over the costume’s eyes, but Barclay swears he sees a blush.

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

Stern trawls through the search results. Their video is getting some traction, with two cryptid hunter sites claiming it’s credible footage. He’s making note of how the information spread, which threads lead to belief and which to doubt, when Barclay calls from upstairs. 

“Joseph? Little help?”

The other man is in the bathroom, and when Stern knocks he says, “Think the pilot light on the water heater went out again, all I’m getting is cold water. Can you go relight it?”

“Sure.” He gets to the stairs then, stops, “where’s the key to that closet?”

“Huh? Oh, shit, right, hang on” Barclay says at the same time as Stern’s “don’t worry, I can find it.” 

Which is why the instant he turns back into the bedroom is the same instant Barclay steps out of the bathroom, blue towel around his waist. 

Any blood that doesn’t head south goes instantly to Stern’s cheeks. 

“You okay there, blue-eyes?”

“It’s completely unfair how good you look without a shirt.”

He clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Idn’t ean to ay at out oud” The mumbled explanation makes Barclay smirk. 

“You like this, should see what’s under the towel.”

The unusually bold statement from Barclay kindles his own confidence.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, big guy.”

“Who says I won’t.” Barclay sits down on the edge of the bed, nonchalant and leaning back on his hands, “got plenty of time to make good on them.”

“We literally don’t. I go back in a week and two days.”

Barclay toys with the lint on the towel, “you could stay. Through break, through next semester, for however long you wanted.”

“Do you mean that?”

A shy nod, “I like having you around, Joseph. Even beyond the huge fucking crush I have on you I...everything is a little better when you’re around.”

“I, um, I guess it could work. We know next semester is online too, and so is work, so…” there must be variables missing, something he’s not seeing, some reason this is too good to be true.

“You want some space away from shirtless me to think about it?”

“That’d be great.”

Barclay stands, hesitates, then plants a quick kiss on his forehead, “take all the time you need, blue eyes.”

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

Private Chat log 1/11/2021

Barclay (he/him): Did you see the look on Duck’s face when we turned up in frame together. 

Joseph (he/him): Yes. Pretty sure Aubrey yelled something about him needing to pay up. I wonder what the bet was. 

Barclay (he/him): Whatever it was, pretty sure I came out the biggest winner. 

Stern snorts, trying not to blush on camera, and leans over to kiss his boyfriend on the cheek. 

[shamelesslyethan]

Always // Ethan Dolan Series // Part 1

Summary: Y/n and Ethan are best friends, but what will happen when after they finally break the seal? Nothing in life comes easy, and this is no exception. Y/n is faced with mountains to climb and choices to make as far as her friendship with Ethan goes, so follow her on this road of love, friendship, betrayal, and so much more. 

Warnings: None 

A/N: OMG GUYS I FINALLY FINISHED!! ALSO, today I hit 500 followers and i just want to let everyone know how grateful I am. To have people to interact with and talk to is an amazing gift and to have people read and enjoy my work makes me happier than word can explain, so thank you all and I love you dearly. Also, every part of this series is going to begin with a short poem (this one probably being the longest) and they’re important to the story in a way! I hope you all enjoy and stick with this series as i write it, thank you for reading!!! <3

Part 1 

A kiss:

Where the ever so slim gap

Between friendship and romanticism

Closes.

Intoxicated:

But not enough

To numb the beating of my heart

Or the butterflies buzzing around my stomach.

The Taste:

Of whisky on our tongues

The silver ball of his piercing

Dancing around my mouth.

Bliss:

A sheer moment

Where time stops

To live in this moment forever,

That would be enough.

“No. No.”

“Y/n?”

“Shit”

“Y/n!”

“Fuck.” I couldn’t even hear Clara talking to me, as I whispered under my breath, cursing my inability to put Saturday into words.

“Y/N!!”

I hear Clara now, but I don’t look up.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing”

“Writing.”

“What are you writing?”

“A poem.”

“What about?”

“Clara what do you need?” I closed my book and finally met my friend’s eyes. Clara didn’t actually care what I was writing about, she just wanted to annoy me enough to make me stop. Her tightly curled hair bounced as she shifted on her feet. Her dark skin contrasted her bright yellow dress and flats. Clara is the typical naturally beautiful woman everyone wants to be, her aura flowed around her and drew people in. She stood there, smiling down at me, sitting in the corner of a hall in our colleges art building, my long dark hair blanketing the sides of my face. My black leggings and long sleeve shirt with classic high top converse solidified the fact that we could not have looked any more different on that day if we had tried. Clara was hand in hand with her boyfriend of a bit over a year, Carson.

“I got you pizza. It’s in the car and you’re going to let me and Carson drive you home. You’re going to eat. And you’re going to take a nap. You haven’t slept in days and I know you already did your work so I dare you to try and fight me on this.”

“But Clar—“

“No. C’mon.”

She pulled me to my feet and I stopped fighting. I knew she only cared for me, and I knew she was right, I really hadn’t been eating or sleeping too much. I was in writing mode, and I don’t stop for much once I get there; class, homework, writing, repeat. Until Clara stopped me, every time. This would be the day I snapped back into reality for the first time since Saturday.

Tuesday, the day I came back from living in Saturday’s events.

-

Clara, Car, Ethan, and I had gone out to a small party. Ethan and I met at college orientation the summer before freshman year and we quickly grew close, due to us being so similar. Ethan is my best friend, and I would do anything for him. I even spent a whole month the summer after freshman year with him and his family. Here we are, March of sophomore year, still living in the same romantic and sexual tension we always have. We have always been the stereotypical “best friends who ignore their feelings”, and we both knew it. He was constantly outwardly jealous of anyone tried to come onto me at parties, and I stayed away from guys to keep his secret jealousy at bay. I was the same way with him, and usually he would stay away from girls as well. People grew to realize that when we went out, we went together, and that meant we were leaving together too. Physically though, all Ethan and I ever had the nerve to do was snuggle up to one another. But that isn’t too rare for best friends I guess. It was the feeling snuggling up left me with that added tension.

Clara and Carson had left the party about an hour before we were ready to, because Carson was the DD that night. The party was at a friends house out of town so we decided to catch a bus back to campus. The cold winter air made the walk extremely uncomfortable, the alcohol in my system being the only thing keeping me warm as I shivered in my nude colored skin tight dress, my heels digging into the little bit of snow that remained as spring crept around the corner. Within two minutes Ethan was pulling his oversized thrasher hoodie over his head and handing it to me.

“Ethan you don’t have to”

“Yes I do, I don’t need you dead, also I can see your nipples and I don’t need any random drunk guy seeing you like that”

I rolled my eyes at his obvious comment, pulling the large hoodie that completely covered my dress onto me.

“Thank you Ethan.”

“You’re welcome y/n, next time plan on the weather and dress accordingly would you?”

He laughed, hooking his arm around my shoulder as we tried our best not to stumble through the snow. We just made it to the bus stop as it arrived and swayed our way into two seats. The bus was mostly empty and we had at least a half hour on the road if not more. I peeled my false lashes off and threw them into my purse, handing Ethan a bottle of water for us to split. Within minutes though, I had collapsed onto his shoulder, and slept for the remainder of the trip. When I woke up, the bus was about two minutes from the dorms, and Ethan still had his arm wrapped tight around me. When we walked off the bus, we were able to walk much straighter than before. My feet ached from my shoes and the cold night, so the second we made it into the dorm building I took them off. Surprisingly my roommate was gone when I unlocked the door, so I let Ethan follow me in to say goodnight before he went to his room. Setting my purse on my bed I peeled Ethan’s warm hoodie from my body, and when I turned to face him to say goodnight, his eyes were burning into me.

In one swift motion, he took me by the hips and lifted me up onto my high bed, positioning his hips in between my thighs. My mind was too clouded to form any words, as he brushed my hair from my face without taking his eyes off of mine. I expected this tension to last, as it normally would with him hugging me and saying goodnight, but it didn’t. The thin tightrope holding us apart snapped, and his lips crashed into mine at last. The kiss was filled with passion as he slipped his tongue into my mouth, the coldness of his piercing shocking me. We melted together, but it was slow and meaningful. Nothing about the purposeful movements of our tongues and hands was rushed, and it was like air was being breathed into my lungs. Then he pulled away, smiling at me, meeting my gaze, whispering,

“Goodnight y/n”

He turned to my door, still not fully in control of his feet. I sat on my bed with my legs dangling, the sleeves of my dress falling from him pulling them down, stopping just before my boobs would have been exposed. Before Ethan shut the door I whispered back to him,

“Goodnight E”

-

I slugged my way into my dorm room, a box filled with one medium cheese pizza from my favorite Italian place in town in hand, and my *insert the heaviest sarcasm probably ever* ever so pleasant and friendly roommate Danielle was sitting at her desk with her face in a textbook. I dropped my backpack from my shoulder to the floor before tossing the pizza onto my dresser. I threw open the top, taking out one of the large slices and folding it slightly in half, taking a bite and scrolling through my phone.

“You’re going to make the room stink.”

Dani spoke in an irritated and monotone voice, which as usual I attempted to ignore.

“I’ll spray air freshener. Do you want a slice?”

“No.”

I didn’t answer. This is usually how my interactions with my roommate went, but every so often we would actually argue. We avoided being in the room together as much as possible but obviously we still share the room together. Originally I was going to live with Clara, but her and Car had decided to get a small apartment on the edge of campus so I ended up going random. Ethan lived two floors above me with his twin brother Grayson, and I frequently used their room as an escape whether it was just hanging out for a few hours or spending the night there with them.

After consuming way too much pizza, and making sure to spray it freshener around the room, I listened to the kind advice Clara had forced upon me and crawled into bed. I lifted my shirt over my head so I was left in just my leggings and black lace bralette and cuddled up under my covers. The little bit of sun that the March sky had to offer gleamed into the room but it didn’t take any time at all for me to drift off into a peaceful sleep. When I woke up, the sun had set and night had fallen despite the fact that come to find it was only 7pm. I rolled over as to no longer face my wall to see Ethan sitting on my bedside dresser, which shocked me at first, but I was not surprised. Knocking was an unheard of concept to Ethan and I. Dani had left the room, no doubt immediately after I fell asleep.

“Oh my god E what the fuck” I yawned out

“Sorry, I just wanted to hang, I didn't think you’d still be asleep. Clara did tell me you hadn’t been sleeping much.”

The room was dark around the two of us, the only light being offered was that of the walkway lamp outside my window

“..yeah, writing. You know. But now I’m one nap in so hanging out sounds great, I just have to change.”

My skin was damp and sticky with sweat, the nightmare I had plaguing my skin with its mark. I couldn’t recall most of it, but I remembered my hair falling out, and being locked in a car. It was weird, and I didn’t know why it was so frightening to my sleeping mind. I pushed myself up and out of bed, pulling my comforter over my sheets quickly before hitting on the lights. I lifted my bralette up over my head and replaced it with a loose fitting T-shirt and replaced my leggings with some black Adidas shorts. Ethan scrolled through his phone while I changed, seeming to be more careful than ever as to not look at me while I was exposed, although he had seen my naked body countless times, this seemed to feel different to the both of us. He then moved from my dresser to my bed, sitting with his back against the wall.

“So, what do you want to do?” I asked him, joining Him in my bed.

“Actually, I was hoping we could go for a walk, maybe get some ice cream? I wanted to talk.”

There was an insane amount of sincerity in his hazel eyes, contrasting the look that met my gaze on Saturday, his eyes were soft and seemed to be quizzical not knowing exactly what to say. We sat in silence for a moment and I began to nod in response,

“ Yeah.. yeah of course E. Um… I just-” I scrambled a bit, looking around my room.”I just have to change again.”

I took off the clothes I had put on minutes before, pulling on a pair of leggings and a hoodie. Ethan was laying down, his head in my pillow, looking at all of the photos on my wall, most of which were of him and I. He smiled, but something within him looked reluctant. When I was ready to go, we escaped the brick building quickly. The weather was significantly nicer than it was Saturday night, with all of the snow melted and the wind virtually nonexistent. It was finally beginning to feel a little bit like spring, although the weather could again change up at any moment. The walk to the ice cream parlor was short, and unlike the conversation in my room, we talked freely and normally which assisted in lowering my nerves slightly. I couldn’t stop thinking however, about what he wanted to talk about. I was sure it was Saturday, but I didn’t know what he was going to say at all.

When we walked in, the knowing anticipation of what was to come set in, and any appetite I had for ice cream vanished. Ethan placed his hand on my back while we stood in line, no doubt feeling the anxiety pumping through my body.

“One scoop of cookie dough in a dish please” I managed to choke out, speaking softly.

“That’s new. You never get one scoop in a dish.” Ethan looked at me as we waited. “you always get the funky flavors”

“Yeah I guess I’m just not super hungry, I ate a lot of pizza earlier.” I smile reassuringly up at him, I didn’t want him to see what was going through my mind.

Sliding into a booth, and knowing we wouldn’t be there any longer than this conversation would last, I met Ethan’s eyes and mustered up the most normalized conversational smile I could.

“So what did you want to talk about E?”

“Well I mean-“ he paused, trying to plan what would come out next. “So Saturday.”

“Yes?”

“That was kind of.. weird, wasn’t it?”

My heart sank. But I tried to remain neutral, seeing the unsureness swimming in his eyes.

“In what way do you mean?”

“Just, you know. We’re best friends. Like BEST friends. And just thinking about it the past few days has made me feel weird about it. Don’t you agree?”

The fact that he couldn’t even say the words “the kiss” took me aback. I couldn’t tell what he wanted me to say.

“Yeah…. totally. Weird. You’re right.”

My whole body ached when I allowed those words to escape my lips. A part of Ethan looked sad, another part looked relieved.

“So you think it’s like best for us to just stay best friends then. Always right? Like it doesn’t have to be weird?”

“Yeah I guess that’s for the best.. and yeah of course it won’t be weird.”

In that moment I was faced with the task of a lifetime. To move on from my feelings and continue to function in the same way as before.

After some disappointing smalltalk, we left the shop and headed back to the dorms. On the way out, I tossed my hardly touched ice cream into the trash. I was tired, both physically and emotionally. My world seemed to have lost a little bit of color in that ice cream parlor, and my lungs seemed to have lost a little air. It was only 9 o'clock, but I couldn’t wait to be unconscious, and unable to think. At my door, Ethan hugged me goodnight. He hugged me a little tighter, and it lasted a little longer. I could hear his heart beating, and I wondered if it hurt his chest like it hurt mine.

“Goodnight y/n”

“Goodnight E”

We waved as he jogged to the stairwell, and I shut my door behind me. Danielle was back, sitting in her bed, eating popcorn. I quickly got ready for bed, washing my face and brushing my teeth, changing back into what I put on before Ethan suggested we get ice cream. As I slung my hair into a bun and made eye contact with myself in the mirror, I looked different. Crawling into bed that night I felt numb, and I thought I could easily drift off.

My head hit my pillow. It smelled like Ethan. The tears finally fell.

[anchorsandadderall]

A Man Who Doesn’t Know

Written for Sterek Week

Day 5 Theme: Quotes and Lyrics

Also on AO3

Continuation of Another Day in the K-9 Unit

I'm a man without conviction I'm a man who doesn't know How to sale a contradiction? You come and go, you come and go

-Culture Club, “Karma Chameleon”

Stiles is actually being completely helpful and the best friend ever. It’s really not his fault that he has no idea what ‘man the front desk’ actually means. Scott neglected to mention that part. It probably had something to do with the giant stack of files on the desk, but Stiles figures he does less damage by playing Angry Birds than by trying to pick an arbitrary place to stick files.

Scott really should know better.

The front door swings open, as announced by the small cowbell attached to the handle.

“Welcome to the animal clinic,” Stiles says, without looking up from his phone. The bell clatters again. And again. Stiles sighs and looks up because is someone really letting their kid just ring the bell for shits and giggles? He’s just about to ask, in a really passive aggressive way, if he can trade a roll of smarties for some peace and quiet, but… oh shit.

Derek has Isaac by the scruff of his neck and he’s trying to pry the rope attached to the bell from the dog’s mouth. Isaac, though, seems to have taken particular offense to the bell, shaking his head and growling as he tries to pull it free from the door.

“Isaac.” Derek sounds like he’s growling right back at his dog. “No. Drop it.”

Stiles really debates crawling under the desk to hide until Derek goes away. He can’t handle this level of hotness on his Saturday. He’s not prepared! In the mornings at work, he can prepare himself. Steel himself for it, even. Put his metaphorical shoulder down and take the hit of brutal hotness when Derek comes in with Laura and opens doors for her and helps Carol at the front desk with refilling the jug on the water cooler. Scowly kind-heartedness in a body made for ogling just does things to Stiles, he can’t help it.

Derek finally wrestles the rope free and pulls Isaac into the office, not looking up until the door is safely shut, putting a pane of glass in between dog and bell. “Was it really the best idea to put a dangling object on the door to a vet’s o- you.” He blinks at Stiles, dropping the rant mid-sentence. “I thought you worked at the police station.”

“Uh… I do.”

“And you work here too?” Derek raises an eyebrow. “Is this a tuition thing or a ‘just love dogs’ thing?”

“Yes!” Stiles agrees, and he’s not completely shutting the door on the idea of crawling under the desk still. He’s not prepared for an actual conversation here. “I can fix the bell. You’re right. It’s a totally bad idea. I mean, if it’s that distracting for a dog, just imagine the poor people bringing their cats in, right? They probably think it’s a toy too.”

“Aren’t cats usually in those carriers?”

Oh god. Abort. Stop talking. Please stop talking. “Some people bring their cats in on leashes. It’s pretty normal.”

Derek looks at him for a few seconds and Stiles is pretty sure he’s trying to figure out if Stiles is trying to be a smart ass, and god, if he figures it out, he needs to share with the class because Stiles has no idea anymore. He just knows that he’s alone in a room with Derek Hale and he needs to fill every single second with inane sound or he’s going to fill it with something worse. Like a compliment on Derek’s shirt. Which is a white t-shirt that comes in packs of five in any big box store, and it’s even smudged a little in the middle with what looks like oil. It’s not a shirt you compliment. It’s a completely plain weekend shirt for doing dirty chores in. It just looks really nice on Derek. Most things do. Everything does. And nothing would probably look really damn good and holy hell, how did Stiles even get here??

“Dog Walker.” Derek knocks sharply on the counter in front of Stiles, making him startle backwards. He reaches out and catches his shoulder when it looks like Stiles might actually flail himself right off balance. “Careful. And stop spacing out.”

“Right. Sorry,” Stiles says, and resolutely does not lean into the warm hand on his shoulder. “So. Uh… are you here for an appointment?”

“Yeah. Isaac is getting his shots.”

“Right!” Stiles fumbles for the jar of dog treats (at least he knows where that is) on the desk and pulls one free. He sprawls across the desk, hanging down to Isaac’s level, holding up the biscuit. “Hey, buddy. Remember me, your old buddy Stiles?” Isaac gives him a once-over, then promptly takes the treat from him. Yep, just as engaged as ever. Good ol’ Isaac.

Stiles and Derek make small talk while Stiles pets Isaac. They talk about how Isaac is doing (fine), how does Derek like owning a dog (it’s fine), and the weather (also fine). It’s awkward, but not quite as awkward as admitting that Stiles has no idea what he’s supposed to do. He could yell back for Deaton, but there’s probably like… a file needed for this stuff. And Stiles has a nasty feeling Isaac is a new patient in need of a new file and that’s well outside of Stiles’ area of knowledge here.

Stiles is just about to resort to entertaining Derek with riddles when Scott saves the day by coming back. He drops into the spare rolling chair and gives one good kick, wheeling over until the back of his chair hits Stiles’. Stiles sits back down in his chair as Scott drops his head back and sighs heavily.

“Rough morning?”

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Scott groans. Stiles glances over his shoulder and notices that Scott is holding a lizard. Like… a really big one. It has some wicked-looking claws, but it’s just clinging to Scott’s shoulder and kind of chilling. There’s probably a story there, and Stiles really wants to ask, but Derek clears his throat and reminds Stiles that… right, place of business.

“So… did I get the date wrong or something?” he asks, looking between Stiles and Scott. He sounds agitated. Fair, considering Stiles has stalled him with random bullshit for a good ten minutes.

“No!” Stiles says immediately, and hopes that’s true. Scott didn’t actually get the chance to show him where the daily appointment schedules are or anything. “No, sorry. Uh… Scott, I think this is Isaac’s first visit?”

Scott immediately sits up, going back into professional mode. This involves handing the giant lizard off to Stiles when he gets up and immediately grabs a clipboard that has blank forms clipped onto it.

“Sorry about that! Okay, let’s get a file started for you dog.”

“Why do you have a lizard?” Laura asks when Stiles shows up for their Wednesday morning update with his binder on the trainee dogs, a banana, and Scott’s newest orphan clinging to his shirt.

“It’s a green iguana,” he says, dropping his binder and banana on the table before negotiating the iguana’s tail so he can sit down.

“I can see that it’s green.”

“No, I mean that’s the species. Not super imaginatively named, right? Plus they come in all colors. Some of them have some red or gold or-”

“Still doesn’t explain why you have it.” Laura scoot her chair a few inches away from Stiles, eyeing the lizard.

“Long story. Short version is that some idiot probably bought this guy as a baby when he was small and cute and they never picked up a book to figure out that he was gonna get big and have claws and need a lot of space, so they very responsibly just ditched it in the wild to-”

“This isn’t a short version,” Laura interrupts.

“Right.” Stiles sighs heavily. “Scott wrangled this guy out of Allison’s yard. He was trying to take over the bird feeder.”

Laura waits a few seconds before making the ‘keep going’ motion. “Okay, but why do you have him?”

“Oh. Scott has to work, and Amazon isn’t delivering lizard cage stuff until sometime before 8 pm. I’m babysitting. Lizard-sitting. I’m gonna call him Jackson.”

“After the lawyer’s kid?” Laura asks, still confused, but resigned to be so. It’s probably not the weirdest thing Stiles has ever done.

“Appropriate, right?” Stiles beams. Laura gets him. And she only asks as many questions as she really, really has to. That’s why Laura is awesome.

It’s a brief meeting because the new trainee dogs are doing well, aside from one of them new puppies being a little more aggressive than they prefer. It’s okay, though. They’re still little enough for Stiles to try and train that out of him.

“Let me know how that one is doing next week,” Laura says, shutting the binder and pushing it back over to Stiles. “So, did my brother call you last night?”

Stiles stops dead in the middle of trying to peel his banana around a heavy armful of iguana. “No. Why? Did he say he was going to?”

“No. He was just in a pissy mood. More so than usual.”

“And that makes you think he talked to me?” Stiles rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”

“Fine, that sounded bad,” Laura concedes. “It was just weird. Normally I can figure out what his issue is. Has he called you at all?”

Stiles shoves a bite of his banana in his mouth to buy himself a few seconds to frame this in the least awful way he can. “Once,” he mutters around his chewing. “I uh… made it weird.”

Laura raises her eyebrows. “When did he call you? What happened?”

“He called me to ask what Isaac’s last name was because he was making him a tag at one of those laser kiosks.” Which was kind of the most adorable thing ever. “I got nervous and panicked and ended up offering to come help him make the tag. I don’t remember if I even answered his question or just jumped right to implying that he can’t type basic information into a machine feeding him prompts.”

Laura nods, keeping her face absolutely neutral. Cop neutral. “Oh.”

“You want to laugh right now.”

“No, I don’t,” she says immediately.

“Liar.” Stiles pulls the peel down further on his banana. Jackson stretches his neck out and helps himself to a massive bite from the fruit. Stiles makes a face, watching him chew it, feeling bits of banana hitting his shoulder and back when they fall out of his mouth.

“Gross.” Laura makes a face. “Stiles!”

Stiles blinks, about to take a bite from the pitiful amount the greedy lizard left him. “What?”

“Don’t be disgusting. The lizard was chewing on that, just let him finish it.”

Stiles gives Jackson the side-eye and sighs, holding the remnants out to him. “Fine. I guess you get the rest of my snack. Asshole.”

Stiles is sitting at his desk in the kennel, tapping his pen idly on the desk as he looks at Theo’s file. What’s the best way to really word this…

“I mean, I don’t think ‘bullying’ is the right word,” he mutters. “That’s got a really negative connotation, y’know? I don’t want to put that kind of a black mark on his record. I think he’s just playing. It’s not like he actually hurt Liam, right?”

Jackson hisses from his perch on Stiles’ shoulder. One of the heavy tactical jackets protects Stiles from those curved claws (he thought about trying to trim them but, in a rare moment of clarity, decided not to assume that reptilian nail care in any way resembles canine nail care) and has made Jackson into a decent companion for the afternoon. He’s a good listener. “Yeah, you're right. Maybe we should hold off on documenting anything for now.”

Stiles is deep in discussion with Jackson on maybe using one of the calmer, adult dogs to try to adjust Theo’s temperament when the door opens. Stiles looks up, expecting Laura or maybe one of the officers partnering with a trainee dog. It’s not. It’s Derek.

Derek just looks at him for a few seconds, looking as startled as Stiles feels.

“Are you talking to that lizard?”

“Yes,” Stiles says, because he can’t come up with a single better answer at the moment.

Derek takes another second to process that. “I’m actually not surprised by that answer,” he says finally. “Isn’t it… did Scott give it to you? The guy at the vet’s office?”

“Yeah. He shows his affection by showering me with stray animals,” Stiles snorts.

“Is that what you do, too?”

Stiles blinks at him. “What?”

Derek just looks at him, then shakes his head. “Never mind.” When he steps into the room, Stiles hears the jingle of dog tags and realizes Derek is holding a leash. He looks over the edge of the desk to see Isaac sniffing the air for all the familiar scents.

“Isaac!” Stiles leans over the desk to reach down and pet him. This one is really too tall for that to be a good idea, and Jackson hisses his displeasure when Stiles spills over the desk far enough that his feet leave the ground. Stiles feels Jackson crawling further down his back to keep from being dumped off. Well, that’s going to be tricky to fix. But for now, he can get in a thorough petting, smoothing out the kinks in Isaac’s curly fur and watching them spring back into place.

“You just saw him yesterday,” Derek reminds him.

“Sorry. I get excited when I see him. He looks so much better.”

“He looks… exactly the same since I adopted him,” Derek says. He crouches down beside the puppy (and into Stiles’ line of sight, dammit) and examines him. “I mean, his fur grew a little, but he’s pretty much the same, right?”

“He just seems happier. He didn’t really like the cages or the regimented days he had here.”

“Oh. Good, I guess.” Derek rubs behind his ear. “He’s settling in pretty well.”

Stiles feels their fingers brush as they both focus on petting Isaac. Oh god. Say something. Say something about Isaac, that’s a safe subject. But also stop petting him before that happens again.

“Hey, he got his tags!” Yes, good idea. Talk about the dog tags. And maybe that super awkward phone call too. But Stiles has already started, he can’t stop now. He catches the new silver disk hanging from Isaac’s collar and flips it around to see the engraving.

Isaac Stilinski-Hale

Stiles has to read it again to make sure he saw that correctly. He did. Not that he knows what to do with that information.

“Uh…”

“I… he was yours first,” Derek says, hastily pushing Stiles’ hand away from the tag. “I tried to ask you over the phone, but you didn’t really answer me, so I just… hyphenated it to be safe.

A slight whine escapes Stiles as he falls in love a little.

“That’s cool,” he manages, his voice barely catching at all. “He can have it hyphenated. I… you even gave me top billing. That was nice of you.”

“I guess.” Derek tilts his head. “You’re turning kinda red.”

“Blood is rushing to my head,” Stiles says immediately. Which is totally true, even if it’s probably really not the issue. “Um… can you grab Jackson so I don’t dump him off when I stand back up?”

“Jackson… the lizard perched on your butt?”

Of course he is. Because Stiles has the worst luck ever. “Green iguana. Yeah, him.”

“So was yesterday… your birthday or something?”

Stiles blinks, mercifully distracted from the tugging sensation on the seat of his jeans and the knowledge that Derek is having to untangle an iguana from his pants. “My birthday? No, why?”

“Oh.” Another tug. Something that Stiles swears are Derek’s fingers, gingerly working at curved lizard claws. “Anniversary?”

Stiles shifts and twists, trying to find a way to crane his neck and look back at Derek. “Anniversary of what?”

“I thought maybe Scott gave you a pet for your… anniversary or… I don’t know. Because he missed you or something. Seems a little big for a dorm room but-”

“Scott isn’t my boyfriend,” Stiles says in a rush. His brain goes right into ‘salvage’ mode. Oh god, Derek thinks Scott is his boyfriend. “He’s my best friend. But definitely not my boyfriend. His girlfriend called him about Jackson being in her yard, scaring the birds away from the birdbath and stuff. The iguana, not the lawyer’s son. So, Scott went to help her because he’s an awesome boyfriend and really loves Allison. Allison is his girlfriend. They met while we were all in high school and Allison had just moved to town and-”

“Stiles.” Derek crouches back down into Stiles’ view, Jackson tucked around one arm neatly. “You’re not dating Scott. Got it. Now stand up before you pass out.”

Stiles wiggles his head a little in what he hopes is a nod, but it’s actually hard to tell after being upside-down this long. When he drops back to his feet, the world spins a little as the blood rushes away from his head. “I’m not dating Scott. Or anyone. In case you were wondering. You probably weren’t, but now you know anyway. Um… are you dating anyone?”

“Your nose is bleeding.”

Stiles blinks at him. “Is that a stalling tactic?”

“No.” Derek grabs the back of his head and makes him lean forward. “Sit down, your nose is actually bleeding.”

Crimson splatters appear on the linoleum floor as Stiles gropes behind him for his chair to sit down. “I feel like this isn’t enough of a medical emergency to avoid this conversation we started,” he says, trying to keep his words from turning clumsy as the copper tang hits the back of his throat. He finally got up the nerve to say something, and damn it, a little bleeding from the head will not deter him now.

“Stay leaned forward. I’ll go get you some ice.” Derek shoves Jackson back into Stiles’ arms and Stiles groans as he hears the kennel door swing open.

“We should get coffee and talk about whether you’re dating anyone!” Stiles calls.

“Coffee is good,” Derek calls back. “Now sit still, I’ll be right back!”

The door swings shut, and Stiles is left alone. He’s got a nosebleed, an iguana clinging to one arm, and a sort or proto-date for coffee and dating discussions. It’s a… it’s a weird sort of victory. Definitely a victory, though.

[spoonfulofsexy]

Party Like A Stark

Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Part (2/6)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5  Part 6

Summary: Today is your 19th birthday, and you also happen to be Tony Stark’s loved daughter.  What’s a better way to celebrate this special day than a party?!  All the Avengers and family friends will be there, even your secret crush Spider-Man.  You’ve always wanted to meet the famous spiderling, but little did you know you already know him.  Your party will definitely be one to remember.

Warnings: still lots of fluff!!

Masterlist

AN: Guys I’m literal trash ahahah this fic is going to be a bit longer than expected because there’s just so many things that pop in my head !! I mean I love writing this story so much, that’s why it’s so long!  I hope you guys don’t mind having to wait longer for the smut!!  I don’t know i think it’s worth it because peter is just so precious and I love the reader’s relationship with everyone! well anyway, enjoy!!

You and the crew left the cafe, and Wanda instantly came up to you and wrapped her arm around yours.

“That boy was cuuuuute”, she teased you about Peter.

You tried to hide the blush that crept on your face as you thought of him. “Wanda stooop”, you playfully rolled your eyes.

“What I was just saying what you were thinking”, she said shrugging her shoulders.

Then Pietro felt the need to pick on you, “You mean the boy she practically had heart eyes for.”

You elbowed him in the side, “Shut it, both of you!”  But only a few steps later you brought it up again. “Do you think I should’ve got his number?”

“Nah, he looked like a chump”, Nat winked at you as she took a sip of her coffee.

“Yeah, I guess”, you sighed as you guys went into a clothing store.

You guys left the city at 4 and got back to the HQ by 5.  Not going to lie you were pretty tired already, which sucked because you had all night to party.  When you got home you dropped your shopping bags and went to go look for your dad.

“DAAAAAAAAD”, you shouted for him, but not in an annoying way. “WE’RE BACK!”

“I’m coming pumpkin!”, you could here him down the hall.  You were greeted with a big smile and a warm hug. “How was shopping?”

“It was great, but I’m exhausted”, you yawned. “Do you know any energy smoothie recipes?”

“Of course, I do! Want me to make you one?”, he asked.

“Yes, please. Wanna see what I bought?”, you asked with excitement.

“Absolutely”, Tony followed you into your room.

“So I got a few blouses and dresses”, you held up the articles of clothing.  “I also got some more work out stuff”, you held up some leggings and tank tops.  “I may have bought this cute Spider-Man pillow”, you shamefully held up the 18” tsum tsum pillow.

“You like the Spiderling?”, your father gasped.

“Well, I mean, uh he’s a cool superhero”, you tried to laugh off.   “Anyway”, changing the subject, “I bought a cool new journal to put my ideas in and stuff.”

“Oh that’s nice!”, Tony held the vintage looking leather book in his hands. “Cap would like this”, he said to himself.

You got sad at the mention of Uncle Steve, “Is he coming?” You sat next to your dad and rested your head on his shoulder.

Tony sighed and ran a tired hand through his hair, “I don’t know. I left him a message, but it doesn’t look promising.”

The corner of your mouth tugged into a sad frown, and Tony felt bad that you were still upset about Steve leaving.  He wrapped a comforting hand around your shoulder and squeezed, “Hey c’mon kiddo, everyone else is coming, even Sam.  He’s actually djing!”

You laughed at the idea of Sam being the DJ, “Aw that’s nice of him!”

“Alright, I’ll leave you alone to get ready”, he kissed your head and left your room.

You sighed and fell back into your bed, “Why can’t I get that stupid boy out of my head?”

After laying down on your phone, you figured you should actually get dressed.  Your dad came by and dropped off your green smoothie. As you drank you did your hair by just re curling some of you hair and shaking out to look more like an effortless wave. Then you it was time to do makeup.  You wiped off your old make up and stared yourself in the mirror and sighed before re-applying foundation and re-doing your eyebrows.  Then you contoured your face, did a wing on your eyelids and put fake eyelashes on.  Lastly you put on an almost nude light pink lipstick. You gave yourself a pleased smile before getting up to change.

You slid on your woven tulle overlay dress by Selfie Leslie™ that featured a floral embroidered design, a plunging sweetheart neckline, and an A-line silhouette.  It was also a very subtle pink color.  Then you slid on your white two strap heels and put on a gold choker and necklace.  

Now you were officially ready for the party and it was only 6:30!  You walked down the hall to Wanda’s room to see how she was doing.

“Hey Wands you ready yet?”, you lightly knocked on her door.

“Yes, you may come in!”, she shouted from the other side of the door.

You opened the door and gasped at how beautiful she looked. “Wanda, you look beautiful!!”, you closed the door behind you.

Wanda wore a black woven maxi dress featuring a smocked off-the-shoulder neckline, tiered crochet short sleeves, drawstring waist, and open-knit crochet panels along the skirt and hem.

Wanda looked at herself again in the mirror, “Do you really think so?”

You came up to her, grabbed her hand and made her do a little spin. “Absolutely!”

“I mean look how gorgeous you look (Y/N)!”, she motioned towards you.  You both held each other’s hands and jumped up squealing, “We both look great!!”

“Hey what’s with the squealing?”, Pietro zoomed in wearing a buttoned up dress shirt and perfectly fitting pants.

“Aw Pietro look how handsome you look”, you giggled and pinched his cheeks.

“Enough”, he swatted your hands away. “I am hot”, he adjusted his tie with his head held high.

“Oh, you’re right. My bad Piet”, you winked at Wanda as you got ready to leave.  “I’ll see you guys at the party!”, you said before closing the door.

“Well would you look who it is?”, a deep, kind voice said from down the hallway.  You spun your head to see who it was.

“STEVE”, you shouted in pure joy.

“Happy birthday, kiddo”, he opened his arms knowing that he was going to be getting a hug.

You ran down the hallway with a huge smile on your face and jumped into his arms. “I can’t believe you came! I didn’t think you would come!” You voice cracked as you fought off the tears.

“I couldn’t miss my little Stark’s birthday party”, he squeezed you tighter before letting you down. “Wow look how pretty your dress is”, Steve complimented.

“Thanks”, you gave him a goofily huge smile and did a spin like a princess.

“Look at the two beautiful human beings”, Sam shouted walking towards you two.

“Hey Sam!!”, you greeted with a wave.  

Sam took you two into a hug, “It’s so nice to see you guys again.”

“I know, I really missed having you guys to bother”, you joked making the two laugh.

“Are you ready to dance your butt off tonight?”, Sam asked as the three of you walked to the living room where the party would be held.  

“Um, you know it!”, you gave a little sampler dance for the two.

The place looked amazing! The Dj stage and karaoke was set up in front of the large wall of windows.  The lights were set low while some colored lights flashed off to the sides.  There was a large table of food and a bar for the adults.  There were silver streamers that glistened and shined everywhere and some pieces of silver confetti already spread across the floor.  Your dad also added a little disco ball that hung from the balcony.

Some people have already arrived so you went around greeting and thanking your guests for coming. ��Sam went up to start playing music.  The first song he played for you was Worth It by Fifth Harmony which was always a jam.  

It was 7:15 and your dad, Happy, and Peter were rolling up to the HQ.  Tony put an arm around Peter’s shoulder as Peter was in awe by how awesome it looked at night.

“Cool isn’t it?”, Tony asked.

“Yeah, definitely Mr.Stark”, he said completely starstruck.

“Alright before we get out of the car, I need to have a talk with you”, Tony went into dad mode.

“Oh o-okay, about what?”, Peter asked nervously.

“I know this will be the first time you meet my little pumpkin, and yes she is beautiful”, Tony looked Peter down.

“Well-”, Peter tried to stop where this was going.

“Hey, don’t interrupt me while I’m giving you the talk”, your dad put up a finger.  Peter instantly zipped his lips, accepting the position he was in. “(Y/N) is off limits.  She already has a crush on Spider-Man”, he muttered.

“She has a crush on me?!”, Peter said in shock.

“No, Spider-Man”, Tony corrected.

“But I’m-”, Peter tried to say but Tony interrupted him.

“I know! I know, you’re Spider-Man.  Just try to keep the flirting on the low”, Tony ran a hand over his face.  “Or at least don’t do it in front of me.”

“Yes, sir”, Peter said.

“I know she is an adult and can make whatever decisions she wants, but she’s still a kid in my eyes”, Tony stared at the building watching people dancing from the window.  “Anyway let’s go party, yeah?”, Tony patted Peter on the shoulder one last time before getting out of the car.

Peter didn’t even know what to think.  (Y/N) freaking Stark had a crush on Spider-Man.  But she’s also Tony’s daughter, which would make things awkward, right?  

Tony led him through the Avenger’s HQ, and the music playing echoed throughout the building.

Partition by Beyonce was playing, while you and Wanda jokingly danced against each other as you sang to the song.  

Then Sam announced over the mic, “HEY TONY STARK IN THE HOUSE!”, Everyone cheered and looked at your father and Peter…… WAIT PETER?

“Oh my gosh, is that the boy from today?”, Wanda shouted over the music at you.

“Did you tell my dad?!”, you looked at her suspiciously.  You looked back at your dad who was waving at you and motioning for you to come over.

“Hey daaaad”, you smiled and hugged him, but never breaking eye contact with Peter.

“Hey sweetie, you look beautiful”, he kissed your temple. “So I know how you’ve been bugging me to meet Spider-Man, so I invited him to your party”, your dad presented Peter to you.

“Peter is Spider-Man?!”, your eyebrows rose up in shock.

“Wai-wait how do you know his name is Peter, I didn’t even-”, you cut your dad off.

“I met him while shopping today, I liked his science pun shirt!”, you said in disbelief.

“Oh, uh well I guess I’ll go greet the guest then”, Tony awkwardly left, but you grabbed his arm before you lost him in the crowd.

“Oh wait, dad, Steve is here.  I think you should talk.”  You could see something in your dad’s eyes change.

“Alright, thank you”, with that your dad walked towards his old friend.

You turned around and awkwardly rubbed the back of your head as Tambourine by Eve played in the background. “So uh, thanks for coming to my party.”

Peter put his hands on his hips. “Yeah it’s no problem”, he let out a large sigh of relief.

There was an awkward silence that fell between the two of you. Trying to make things a little better you said, “So wanna go dance, Spidey?”

“I can’t really-”, Peter tried to decline but you dragged him out to where Wanda and Pietro were.

“Hey guys”, you greeted your two best friends.  “So this is Peter, aka Spider-Man.”

“You mean the guy you were crushing on is also the superhero you’re crushing on?!”, Pietro said shocked.

Wanda shoved him away, “Shut up, you big mouth.”  Then she put on a smile and an outstretched hand to Peter, “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Wanda, and that’s my awful twin Pietro.”

Peter laughed but was also blushing so hard at what Pietro said. He took Wanda’s hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”  

“They’re the Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver”, you said loud enough for him to hear.

“Woooooooaaah”, Peter said in awe.

Suddenly, the song changed to Despacito.

“Oh my god this is my jam!”, both you and Peter said at the same time.  You both looked at each for a second, but then you grabbed his hands to dance.

¡Oh! Tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal Me voy acercando y voy armando el plan Sólo con pensarlo se acelera el pulso (oh, yeah!) Ya, ya me está gustando más de lo normal Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más Esto hay que tomarlo sin ningún apuro

You both sang a long perfectly to the lyrics, while attempting the salsa.  You laughed as you tried to keep up with how well Peter could salsa.  

Despacito Quiero respirar tu cuello despacito Deja que te diga cosas al oído Para que te acuerdes si no estás conmigo Despacito Quiero desnudarte a besos despacito Firmo en las paredes de tu laberinto Y hacer de tu cuerpo todo un manuscrito (Sube, sube, sube Sube, sube)

“Peter how are you so good at dancing?!”, you shouted over the music.

“I don’t know, I guess it’s from all the dancing with my Aunt when I was younger!”, he laughed.  He led the two of you in the dance.  You tried so hard not to watch your feet, but before you even realized it there you were looking at your painted toe nails.  Suddenly you felt a hand under your chin, making you lift your head up.  “Here, just look at me.  It’s harder when you look down”, Peter said in the most innocent way.

Your face had to be cherry red, but you did what he said so you didn’t mess up.

The whole time you both were filled with laughter as you tried not to break eye contact with his dark chocolate colored eyes. By the end of the dance you were out of breath and all sweaty.

“Geez Peter, you really know how to show a girl a good time”, you winked as you both went over to get drinks.  This night was just getting started.

Tagged:  @elaacreditava​ @harleyquinnandscarletwitch​ @randisnotonfire @theperksofbeingyourmum @redstarstan @mamallama613 @peter-pan-hoe @alexiajmariani @avengersandchill @jriles124 @blueskaikru @wizardinthewrongplace @legendarydazekitten @farfromjustordinary @tomhollandisthicc @ur-average-princess @kingwolfey

[kdinthecity]

Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen: Kiss and Tell

Chpt. 1 | Chpt. 2 | Chpt. 3 | Chpt. 4 | Chpt. 5 | Chpt. 6 | Chpt. 7

I text my dad once we’re on board, and he is actually already aware of the change in our travel itinerary. I guess it makes sense that Iroh would let him know, but I didn’t even realize they were acquainted. Our family does frequent Mushi’s, but I always thought it was because of my dad’s deep appreciation for quality seafood. My mind now races through all the possibilities—call it investigative journalism in practice… or me basically questioning my entire childhood.

So, did my parents know Iroh before my mom died?

If they knew each other, my dad must consider him an ally since we still dine at his restaurant. Dad says he is wary of Zuko, though, despite allowing me to go on this trip.

Does my dad know anything about Mom’s connection to Ursa?

Even if he didn’t know Iroh or anything about Zuko’s mom, how is my dad OK with all of this? His trust is not easily earned. Yet here I am, caught up in the middle of the Kasai family madness.

But it involves my family, too.

My dad’s words suddenly weigh heavy on me. “I don’t trust them, Katara. But I trust you.”

I apparently have no problem trusting Zuko, because as soon as our plane takes off, I melt into him and fall asleep. I can’t help it. I’m exhausted, he is perpetually warm, and he always smells like...

“Sweet dreams, Moonpeach.”

OK, did that really happen or did I just imagine Zuko saying that and kissing the top of my head?

The entire seven-hour flight passes like the blink of an eye. I hope I didn’t do something embarrassing like snore or drool on his shoulder. Zuko gently rouses me when the cabin lights come back on just before landing. I try to shake myself from a sleep-induced stupor while he stares at his phone, awaiting instruction of what to do next. I check mine, too, but neither of us have a signal at the moment.

At 11:45 p.m. local time, this particular terminal of the Anchorage airport is nearly empty. After passing through security, we find an isolated cluster of chairs to dump our bags and settle in case we’re stranded here for the night. Zuko curses at his phone, but I switch into wifi mode, and a series of notifications for missed calls and texts soon registers. I read and listen and panic and ponder. Dad instructs to stay put and wait for someone to come get us. And that he and Sokka will meet us in Anchorage tomorrow. And be careful, he warns.

Zuko receives similar messages from Iroh, and while he says, “Don’t worry. Everything will be OK,” the paleness of his face gives him away. It accentuates the scar, and even though I’ve mostly forgotten it’s there, I’m unabashedly staring at it right now.

“What?” he asks, exasperated.

The words slip out before I can stop myself. “How did it happen?”

“Really!? You want to talk about that here? Right now?” Some color has returned to his cheeks, along with that incredulous expression he wears so often.

What I really want to do… is kiss him. Yes, here. Right now.

I start by reaching for the rippled discoloration under his left eye. He flinches but doesn’t pull away. His golden gaze softens—he trusts me, I think. I trace the outline of his scar with the pad of my thumb then slowly bring my hand around to stroke the nape of his neck. His breath catches when my lips find their mark. I’ve always been curious about this, but the ridged skin is surprisingly soft.

His eyes flutter closed. “I can’t feel it,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I can’t feel anything…”

He’s talking about damaged nerve endings, and whatever else is damaged beyond repair, but I’m determined to make him feel something.

I grip the chair’s armrest in between us to brace myself. “What about here, then?”

And just like that, we’re kissing.

It would have been more romantic that day on the beach. Or more commonplace any of the countless times we’ve been in his car together. But now that we’re practically running for our lives, there is a sense of urgency—a neediness. We skip all the shy first kiss business, too. I’m shocked by my own boldness, but more than pleased at how fervently he responds.

And now that I’m finally kissing Zuko, I really don’t want to stop.

He doesn’t, either, if those soft moaning noises he’s making are any indicator. I tug at his bottom lip with my teeth in between insistent open-mouthed kisses before his hands are in my hair, and his hot breath and teasing tongue are everywhere.

I think we’ve forgotten that we’re in an airport in the middle of the night waiting for some random person to meet us here. Clearly we’ve both wanted this for a while now, but maybe this is not the best time or place. Eventually we come to our senses and reluctantly pull away from each other.

Zuko slumps back in his seat and lets out a breathless, “Wow.”

I nod in agreement, unsure of whether he can see me or not, but if he were looking, he’d find me sporting swollen lips and an unnatural shade of pink. I pretend to browse on my phone to avoid whatever awkward conversation will inevitably happen next. Because it’s me and Zuko, and we’re the world’s biggest dorks. I’d rather not talk, really. Can’t we just make out some more?

Zuko fiddles with his phone, too, for what seems like ages. Then out of the blue, “I was thirteen.”

“Huh?” I shift in my chair to face him.

He points at his scar. “When my father…”

“Oh.” I had completely forgotten. Why did I even ask? “Zuko, you don’t have to—“

“I used to want to be like him,” he continues. “Because I’d take over the company some day, I figured. Our top selling game at the time was Day of Black Sun, this war simulator game, and like any teenager, I was really excited about it. I begged to go to one of the engineering meetings, so Uncle got me in somehow.”

My stomach starts churning with uncertainty. “Iroh worked for Future Fire?”

“Yeah, he quit after… uhh, anyway, Dad’s top engineer, Dr. Bujing, presented a prototype of the Black Sun combat gloves, but they were actual weapons. I was confused by this, so I said a lot of gamers who use the virtual reality gear are just kids. They could get hurt. Then Bujing laughed all creepy like and said some kids don’t play war games for fun.”

The depth of sadness in Zuko’s voice, and the flash of fear in his eyes are now giving me heart palpitations. I grab his hand and gently squeeze it.

“So, it turns out that these new weapons were being sold to a top bidder overseas, to this guy named Zhao who exploited kids to carry out his covert operations. Bujing said these young soldiers lived in hostile environments and had to be tough. No Bay Area brat like me would understand. I was appalled, so I challenged him. I said kids should never be forced to fight, and Future Fire shouldn’t be making weapons anyway.”

Zuko pauses and swallows, then fidgets and sighs. I tell him he doesn’t have to finish, but he shakes his head and draws in a deep breath.

“My father said… I talked too big, just like a typical Silicon Valley kid… and I didn’t know true pain and suffering. He then reminded me that Future Fire was first and foremost an arms dealer… and always will be. In order to learn my place, I was awarded the privilege of testing out the prototypes.”

I gasp because I can only guess where his story is headed next. The pressure building in my chest is almost unbearable. I’ve never let myself think about it before now, but I can’t fathom the pain he must have experienced.

“A few days later, Dad wanted me to give a demonstration in front of the entire company. I barely knew how the gloves worked, and I didn’t want to fuck it up and embarrass him. I said I needed more time, and I only had the company’s best interest at heart. He called me disrespectful and a coward. He took one glove from me and put it on his right hand. It all happened so fast, but I saw his fist coming at my face, so I raised my left hand to try to block him. No one knew for sure which glove misfired, so the whole thing was written off as an accident. Or what was it? An equipment malfunction, that’s right.”

Tears prick at the corner of my eyes. “Oh, Zuko. That’s—”

“It was no accident, though,” he adds through gritted teeth. “Because my dad came to see me in the hospital and told me it was to teach respect. And that suffering would be my teacher. That’s always his line whenever he—“ Zuko stops short and clears his throat. “Uncle was there that day, and he knows the truth. He was the one who took care of me afterward. Still does.”

“Zuko, I’m—“

“Don’t.”

I know he doesn’t want my apologies or my pity, so I clarify. “I was going to say, I’m glad you told me. Thanks for trusting me. I trust you, too.”

He probably doesn’t have a clue how incredibly huge this confession is for me.

Or… maybe he does? His eyes go wide, even the half-lidded one his father marred so carelessly just to teach a lesson, that bastard.

“Katara, that… that means a lot. Besides Uncle, I’ve never told anyone before.”

Zuko’s gaze meets mine, and I don’t see a broody boy with a mysterious mark anymore. Yes, he will always have the scar and its horrific story, but he is beautiful to me—strong, enduring, and trustworthy. The wounds run deep, but he is not calloused. He is healing.

This makes me feel safe with him. And I haven’t felt that way in a long time.

He also makes me feel something else, and now that kissing is an option…

Zuko yelps when I launch myself from my seat and into his lap. Armrest be damned! Do not get in the way of me and my man! That’s right, I just claimed him. Sokka is probably going to freak and swear off meat for a week when he finds out. I entertain no further thought about my overprotective brother as I plunge my tongue into the soft warmth of Zuko’s mouth. Mmmmm.

“Hmm-mmm.” Someone coughs behind us.

Heat rises to my cheeks as I scramble to my feet. Zuko leans forward and buries his face in his hands. The intruder just laughs.

“Hey, I know you.” I point with a shaky finger. “You were at Iroh’s July Fourth party.”

“Yes, I was,” the man replies. “Some of your uncle’s buddies were taking bets on the first kiss. Bumi said before the party, Jeong Jeong said during the party, and Iroh said not yet because it would take a long time for Zuko to work up the nerve. Who won the bet, I wonder?”

“Well… I initiated the first kiss. So… I win!” I fold my arms across my chest.

Zuko presses his fingers to his temples and rolls his eyes. “Katara, this is Noren.” He then tips his head toward the man. “And Noren, this is Katara.”