#she strolled up there smooth as hale | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atlafan · 4 years

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a/n: okay, here it is! a lot of you really wanted me to post this on here, SO THAT MEANS I’M GONNA SEE LOTS OF FEEDBACK AND REBLOGS, RIGHT?! Can’t wait to know what you think of this one! [Patreon] [Buy Me A Coffee] (not proofread) I was inspired by a lot of different things with this, it’s sort of like Scarlet Witch meets The Dragon Prince meets ATLA??? Also, Harry is a major himbo in this, and we love that for him.

Warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, magical fighting, smut (rim job)

Words: 22K

Pairing: Harry x OC (Amber Hale)

Song Inspo: High For This - The Weeknd

“What do you do with a BA in English?” The age-old question that was coined from the hit musical, Avenue Q. Harry thought he had the answer to that question, and it was go to graduate school to get his MEd in English. He’d get his K-12 certification, not that he wanted to work in a K-12 school system. No, he wanted to be a literary professor. He wanted to be able to have high level discussions about the classics, post-modernism, film adaptations, and more. He loved reading, ever since he was a little kid there was a book in his hands. There was just something about getting lost in a world that someone else created for a bit, and then analyzing the shit out of it.

He had already done a semester of student-teaching as a senior, he didn’t love it. He took a gap year trying to find a publishing company to work at. He thought he could maybe be an editor. Harry soon realized he didn’t like being told what to read, and the pay was pretty low. He even tried working at a bookstore for a bit. It wasn’t as much fun as he thought. So, at the age of twenty-four, he enrolled in a master’s program to get his Med in English. At least this time when he’d have to student-teach, he’d be doing it at a collegiate level. He knew he’d get stuck teaching a couple of sections of first-year composition, but he had no problem teaching students how to properly construct a paper. There were three classes he needed to take in the fall, all of them being online-asynchronous: Social Behavior in a Diverse Society, Philosophy, Ethics, & Education, and Teacher Action Research.

Since Harry had a semester of teaching under his belt, he was able to get a better paying grant, and wouldn’t have to just TA, he could actually teach. He’d still be subject to observation, but at least he could be trusted. So, he’d be teaching two sections of Composition, and one section of Fiction Workshop, where students would read texts Harry picks out, and discuss them. Fiction was his favorite, so he was really excited to be teaching this particular course.

The university he was attending was on the east coast in the states, a very picturesque college town by the seacoast. Harry loved fall, so he was happy about getting to be immersed in the season. So, he had his courses settled that he had to take, he knew what he was teaching and set up his Canvas pages, the last thing he needed to figure out was a place to live. He had been staying at a motel in the area, but that was starting to get pricey. He looked around online, but there wasn’t much out there. He also didn’t want to get stuck living with a bunch of undergrads that were loud and partied. He asked the other faculty in the English department if they knew of anything, but they didn’t.

Harry decided to go for a walk in the downtown area, and see if there were any ads in some of the shop windows. A lot of the buildings looked to be apartments up top. On his walk, he noticed an interesting looking café. There were other coffee shops in town, and this one looked to be almost deserted. Harry shrugs his shoulders and heads inside. A chime sounds as he walks in, and he sees that it’s almost like a country store. There’re tee shirts, sweatshirts, scarves, gloves, books, knick-knacks, and treats. This seemed like a neat little place, why wouldn’t there be a lot of people here? It was still summer, maybe it was more of a college student hangout?

Even though it was still summer, the place smelled like cinnamon and apples. The fresh smell of coffee wafted through the air as well. From the back comes a woman wearing a green apron over her clothes, dusting her hands off. Harry stops in his tracks as he looks at her. She had these piercing blue eyes that resembled sapphires. Her hair was up in a loose, wavy ponytail, the color being one of those silver/lavender mixes, a contrast to her dark eyebrows. She was a short thing, couldn’t have been a little more than five feet tall. Her nails were painted black, and she had this gorgeous necklace hanging around her neck. She also had various piercings in her ears, and a silver hoop in her left nostril.

“May I help you?” She asks Harry just as a Siberian husky comes trotting out by her side.

“Hi! I’m new to the area, and I was just strolling by and saw your shop…um, do you have iced tea?”

“Yeah.” She nods slowly. “Come over to the counter.” The dog circles around Harry, sniffing at his legs. “Are you okay with dogs?”

“Love ‘em! Boy, girl?”

“She’s a girl, her name is Opal.”

“That’s a lovely name.” Harry smiles, and leans down a bit to let Opal sniff his hand. “She’s a beautiful dog.”

“Thank you. So…you said you wanted an iced tea? Here’s the list of flavors.” She taps a laminated paper that’s taped to the counter.

“Right, yeah, um…what do you recommend?”

She furrows her brows at him for a moment, studying his face.

“I just drink the plain, black tea with a dash of sugar syrup.”

“Then I’ll have that.” He smiles.

She nods, gets a cup to fill with ice, and goes into one of the small fridges where the tea was chilling. She adds the syrup and then the tea, then snaps a sippy-cup style lid on top.

“Here you go. That’ll be $3.99.”

Harry sets a five-dollar-bill on the counter.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks.” She puts the rest in the tip jar.

“What’s your name? You’re not wearing a tag or anything.” He says before taking a sip of the tea.

“It’s Amber.”

“Amber! Oh, is that why you’re wearing one?” He points to her necklace.

“Well, I was given this when I was a little girl.” She says as she looks down at it, then back up to him.

“Do you mind if I peruse around the store a bit? Although, I shouldn’t be buying any trinkets until I actually find a place to put them.”

“What do you mean?” She blinks at him. Who was this man and why was he being so friendly with her?

“I’m new to the area, and I’ve been having a tough time finding a place to live. I’m at one of the nearby hotels, but I can’t stay there much longer. You wouldn’t happen to know of any vacant apartments, would you?”

“Sure she does!” Another woman comes out from the back. “Amber owns the whole building, which means she owns the apartments upstairs.”

“Penny.” Amber seethes, and then looks at Harry. “I’m sorry, I don’t rent to college students.”

“I’m a graduate student, and I’m also going to be teaching. M’not loud, and I keep things tidy. I’d be happy to fill out an application if you like.” He smiles. “Plus, I could be a walking advertisement for the place because this tea is incredible.”

“The shop does well for itself.” Amber mutters.

“Oh, just give the boy an application.” Penny says.

“Fine.” Amber sighs, and ducks down to grab an application. She hands it to Harry reluctantly. “My email is on the bottom. Just scan it and send it to me that way, and I’ll get back to you.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Penny smiles. “Parking’s included.” Amber glares at her. “Well, I’m just going to head back to the back, take stock of things.”

“You do that.” Amber says, shaking her head, and then looking at Harry. “She’s a good worker, but she’s nosey as shit. So, you’re a grad student?”

“Mhm, and I’m twenty-four, so I’m not fresh out of undergrad either. I’m going for my MEd in English, and I’ll be teaching a few classes as well. I’m excited to get started.”

“English, huh?”

“Mhm.” Harry smiles.

“You must really like to read.”

“I do.” He nods. “Do you?”

“No, I hate it actually.”

“But…there are so many books here.”

“Yeah, the majority of them are cook books, or informational books about the area. I’ve never really cared for reading. It’s a waste of time, if I’m being honest.”

“A…a waste of time?” He blinks at her.

“If I’m reading, it’s so I can learn something.”

“But even if it’s fiction, you can still learn so many life lessons.”

“Maybe worry about teaching that to your students instead of me. I’m a lost cause.” She smirks. “I need to finish up what I was doing in the back, so if you still want to peruse…”

“No, uh, I’ll get out of hair. I’ll email this over to you later tonight. It was nice meeting you.” He looks down at Opal who was eyeing him carefully. “And it was nice meeting you too, gorgeous girl.” He smiles, and leaves the shop.

Amber takes a deep breath and heads into the back where Penny is. She glares at her, and it makes Penny laugh.

“You could use a new tenant.” Penny says to her.

“I don’t need you finding one for me.”

“He’s cute.”

“He’s annoying.” Amber deadpans. “Practically told me his whole life story!”

“He clearly felt comfortable around you.”

“So? He’s an English professor or something, how pretentious.” She makes a disgusted noise.

“Just give his application a fair shot, would you?”

“I will, but only because if I don’t I know you’ll keep bugging me about it.”

Harry couldn’t believe that he just heard with his own two ears that reading was a waste of time. He knew there were people that didn’t care for it in the way that he did, but Amber said she hated it. He couldn’t fret over it too much, though, because either way he still needed an apartment, and she had a vacancy open. So, when he got back to the hotel later that day, he worked on his application, and emailed it over to Amber. The name of shop was cute: Opal’s Café & Convenience. He found it endearing that she named it after her dog. Amber seemed rough around the edges, but maybe Harry could be the one to smooth her out a bit.

Much to Amber’s dismay, Harry was the perfect applicant. He didn’t have any pets, he wouldn’t be throwing wild parties, his credit checked out, and his references were solid. Amber would be stupid not to let him take one of her apartments. She emailed him back and let him know it was his if he wanted it, and when he could move in. In the email, she attached a list of rules he’d need to follow when being one of her tenants. She lived in the building as well, and she valued her privacy. She explained that she would often make a lot of tea in her own apartment, so Harry might catch a whiff once in a while.

Harry was so thrilled he’d have an actual place to live just in time for school starting that he agreed to all of her conditions. So what if he’d smell tea once in a while? There were far worse smells out there. Harry packed everything into his car, and headed over to the building as soon as he could. He found his parking spot, and started moving things up. His apartment was on the floor beneath Amber’s. She had the entire top floor to herself. Harry was surprised that he’d have the whole second floor to himself. It was a spacious one bedroom that he was grateful for. He was drenched with sweat by the time he got the last of things upstairs. The first thing on his list was to install his air conditioner. He tore his shirt off, kept the front door open for some airflow, and got to work putting the air conditioner in the main window of the living room. It was the space he’d be in most, so he wanted it cooler in there. He could always leave his bedroom door open or just use a fan at night.

Amber was heading down the stairs with Opal, and noticed Harry’s door was open. She was about to get to work opening the shop. Her eyes widen when she sees that he’s shirtless, littered with tattoos. He just happens to turn and see her standing in the doorway.

“Oh, hi!” He smiles, and walks over to the door, bending a bit to pet Opal.

“Everything going okay so far?” Amber asks.

“Mhm.” Harry nods, crossing his arms. “Just got the A/C installed, so it’ll be nice and cool soon. Thanks again for letting me rent from you.”

“Yeah, well…it’s money.” She shrugs. “Look, uh, there’s a basement here too, don’t go down there. It’s locked anyways, but I keep all of the supplies for the shop in the basement, so…it’s off limits.”

“Oh, no worries. I’ve got plenty of space up here. I don’t have a bike or anything, so I don’t think I’d even need the extra storage.”

“Good.” She nods. “Well, I’m headed down to open up. See you around.” She snaps her fingers to get Opal’s attention, and they go downstairs. Once they’re down in the shop, Amber notices Opal looking at her. “Don’t even start, I already know you’re on Penny’s side.” She sighs.

“He is awful cute.” Opal says. She and Amber could communicate telepathically.

“I have more important things to focus on, we have more important things to focus on.” Amber crouches down to her dog. “You realize we can’t just chat freely with him around.”

“It’s the same with the college kids. He might think it’s cute that you talk to your dog.”

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” Amber rolls her eyes and stands up. “I have to get the coffee and tea going. Could you check the shelves and see what herbal teas we’re low on?”

Opal nods, and heads over to the aisles to take stock of everything. Amber gets the coffee and tea brewing so it’s fresh for the customers. Penny comes in an hour or so later to make some fresh biscotti while Amber was working on making more herbal tea. Amber’s herbal teas were quite popular with the college students. Were they laced with a little magic? Maybe, but it was all for a good cause. She had special anti-stress and anxiety teas, sleepy time teas, wake-up teas, and some teas that could put someone in the mood, but she didn’t advertise those often. She didn’t want anyone taking advantage of anyone else, she only sold it to people who knew to ask for it, and they had to sign a waiver.

Certain coffees had some magic involved too. There were coffees that were ground with something to help people focus for long period of time, coffees for all-nighters, and more. She lived in a pretty liberal area where people were super into different types of “wellness”. There were so many people that would rather try drinking an herbal tea, than take a pill, so she used that to her advantage. No one ever really questioned why her products worked so well.

Amber had been living pretty peacefully the last few years, but as of late she felt this odd disturbance. Something bad happened in the spring. Something came after Opal. Amber almost lost her best friend in the world. She had been trying to track down whatever the fuck it was, but the trail had run cold. She took the time to train and work on some of her spells. Opal explained that Amber should be able to just think and cast instead of having to say the spell out loud. She had gotten a lot better at it, and she had gotten a lot better at throwing a punch. Whatever the fuck that thing was, she’d be ready for it. Amber also didn’t want anything bad happening to the college students. They were so vulnerable as it was, but a lot of them would walk around intoxicated at night, making them the perfect target. She felt protective over her college town, she wasn’t going to let anything happen to anyone.

That’s why she had a chip on her shoulder when it came to Harry. She didn’t exactly trust the new guy, especially since he came right to her shop, and asked about a place to live. It was rather peculiar, but she thought it would be better to keep a close eye on him, so she accepted his application. No one else seemed too bothered by him, and she didn’t exactly appreciate the glances Penny and Opal gave her when it came to him. Yes, he was cute, but Amber had a hardened heart that couldn’t be so easily sueded by a handsome man with a kind a smile.

Harry couldn’t believe how packed the shop was once the college kids were back in town. Amber did really well for herself. He liked living above the shop a lot. Sometimes he’d buy a coffee, find a place to sit, and get some grading done, or do some homework of his own. Sometimes he’d catch Amber looking at him, a deep furrow in her dark brows. He’d give her a soft smile, and she’d just look away. Opal liked sitting by his feet. Any time he’d sit down for a bit to get some work done, there she was. He loved dogs, so he was happy she seemed to take a liking to him.

“Hey, Professor Styles!” A girl in one of his composition classes, Zoey, says to him.

“Oh, uh…it’s Zoey, right?” He looks up from his laptop.

“Mhm.” She nods. “You like to hang out here?”

“I live upstairs, actually. I like to come down here for a change of scenery. Do you come here a lot?”

“Oh, definitely. My friends and I come here almost every day. Amber has some of the best tea and coffee I’ve ever had. I was just stopping in to stock up on her sleepy time tea.”

“Sleepy time tea?”

“Yeah! Puts me right to sleep after having a small cup. You should try it.”

“Zoey, come on!” One of her friends says.

“I better go, it was nice seeing you!”

Harry waves to Zoey as she leaves to go down one of the aisles. He gets back to his work. He was doing some research for his philosophy class. He had to look into the different philosophies of various educators from a list his professor gave him. Without even realizing it, he skipped dinner, and ended up being the last person in the shop.

“Glad to see you’re making the most out of having free Wi-Fi.” Amber scoffs as she crosses her arms. “We’re closed.”

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Harry scrambles to pack up his things. “Time must have gotten away from me.” He looks down at his watch and sees that it’s nearly 9PM. “Fuck, I need to get to sleep. Hey, could I buy some of that sleepy time tea you sell? One of my students was telling me about it earlier.”

“Sure, you can buy a pound for fifteen dollars.” She grabs a bag of it and they both go up to the counter so she can ring him up.

“Must be good stuff if college kids can afford that.” He hands her exact change.

“It lasts a while.” She purses her lips briefly. “You may have some…vivid dreams. It’s really, um, potent, especially if it’s your first time drinking it.”

“Do you make it yourself?”

“I do.” She nods. “I promise it’s all FDA approved.” She smirks.

“I trust you, no worries.” He chuckles. “Do you need any help cleaning up?”

“No, I’m all set. Penny’s in the back still, I’ve got all the help I need.”

“Alright, well, have a good night.” He smiles.

“You too.” She watches as he heads out the door in the back to go upstairs. Amber looks down at Opal. “You need to stop sitting by him so much. He’s going to think I’m staring at him every time I look over at you.”

“I can’t help it! He smells nice.” Opal says.

“I don’t care what he smells like. We need to be cautious.”

“You worry too much. Whatever that thing was caught me on a lunar eclipse, so I couldn’t transform fully. Had I been able to, I never would have gotten hurt.”

“Yeah, and it probably knew that. Probably want to make you transform into a wolf full time. You’d become rabid.”

“I’m well aware of that. I’d be able to sniff out anything demonic about him, especially by now. He seems genuine.”

“Good for him.”

“Amber.”

“Opal.”

“Would you two give it a rest?! You’re giving me a headache.” Penny says as she comes out from the back. “We have receipts to go over.”

Harry took a quick shower when he got up to his apartment, and then made his tea. It tasted really good, like, the best chamomile he ever had. He only drank about half of it when his eyes started to droop while watching to TV on the sofa. So, he got his butt into bed, and fell asleep almost immediately. Amber was right about him having vivid dreams.

There he was, walking through a forest at night. He had no idea where he was going, but let his legs take him there regardless. There was a glowing light that intrigued him, so he made his way over to it. As he approached, he saw a woman from behind, her hair flowing in the breeze and her hands glowing with what looked like electrical currents. He steps on a twig by accident, catching her attention. She looks over her shoulder at him, her eyes glowing a white-hot blue.

“What are you doing here?” She says, floating in the air above him. He falls to bum and looks up at her.

“I…I don’t know.” He swallows. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to get out of here it isn’t safe!” She scolds him.

“M’sorry, I don’t even know how I ended up here.” He scrambles to his feet, and she lowers herself to the ground. Her hair was still flowing, her eyes and hands still glowing. “I saw the light and just followed it I guess. Is there a way for you to turn that off? It’s pretty bright.”

The woman takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes. Her hands stop glowing, and when she opens her eyes, all Harry sees is a familiar sapphire color. He realizes who it is once her hair settles. It was that same silver/lavender color that Amber had.

“Amber?” His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at her. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing that you need to concern yourself with. Get out of here, now.” Her eyes glow again, as well as her hands, and she shoots up into the night sky without another word.

“What in the actual fuck?” Harry says to himself.

Harry woke up to his alarm the next morning not feeling groggy at all. In fact, he had never felt so refreshed after a night’s sleep! He quickly grabs his phone and opens the notes app before forgetting his dream. It was so bizarre and weird, he wasn’t quite sure what it meant, if anything at all. Why would he have a dream about Amber? And why would he dream about her glowing the way she did? He hadn’t watched Harry Potter recently, or anything of the like.

He gets dressed for the day, and decides to go into the shop for his morning coffee. The place was already bustling with early birds. Amber was behind the counter getting coffee and tea orders out. It astounded Harry that she was able to do so much by herself. He waits in line, saying hello to some of his students in the process.

“Good morning, what can I…oh, hi, Harry.” Amber sighs. “What would you like?”

“I’ll take an iced coffee, please, black.” He smiles as she nods. “That tea really put me to sleep last night. You were right, I had an odd dream.” She freezes for a moment as she scoops the ice cubes into the cup. “You were in it, actually.”

“That’ll be $3.50.” She says flatly as she sets the cup of coffee down on the counter. He hands her his card, and she runs it through the machine.

“You’re not even the least bit curious as to what I dreamed about?”

“Nope.” She smirks. “I don’t need to hear about your wet dreams.”

“It wasn’t a…I didn’t…” He shakes his head as his face flushes. “It wasn’t like that.”

“I’ve got a line of customers waiting.” She slides his card back to him.

“Can we talk later?”

“Harry, whatever it was, it was just a dream. So I was in it, so what? I’m flattered you were thinking of me, but don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just that…the strangest thing happened. Your eyes were glowing, and your hands were too, but, like, a different type of glowing, and we were in this forest. Oh! And you were, like, flying or floating, or something like that. Your hair was kind of glowing too.”

“You read too much fiction.” She rolls her eyes. “Buh-bye.”

“But-“

“Next!” She shouts, and it makes him flinch. He grabs his drink and leaves. Amber looks down at Opal, who was about to say something, but Amber shakes her head as to warn her.

“Amber, we need to talk about this.”

“Later, I have customers.” She whispers down at Opal, and looks at the next person in line. “Good morning.” She smiles.

Harry was so distracted during his classes, he ended up showing the movie version of The Grapes of Wrath to his fiction workshop class. It worked with the unit they were since they were discussing historical fiction. He wanted to know why Amber was so cold to him even though she was plenty kind to just about everyone else that stepped through her shop. He also wanted to discuss his dream with her. It felt so real, and he wanted to know why. He had a few students come see him during his office hours, and he tried to be as present as possible for those. There was one girl in his fiction class that came to just about all of his office hours, and normally he didn’t mind, but he had a lot of course work to do, and some grading to get done. He was also in a rush to get back to the shop.

“Hi, Professor Styles.” Whitney smiles.

“Hi, Whitney.” Harry sighs as she sits down.

“Are you feeling alright today?”

“Just a little stressed. I’ve got some work for the classes I’m taking to get done.”

“It’s so cool that you’re a grad student. You’re so good at teaching, I never would have guessed you weren’t a full professor.” She had a tendency to flirt with him. She was a senior, and twenty-one. In any other scenario, Harry probably would have gone for it since he was only a few years older, but he wasn’t about to start dating a student.

“Thanks, that means a lot. Listen, uh, I know we usually chat for a bit, but I really need to get some work done, so unless this is class related…”

“Oh.” She sits up a little straighter. “Um, I guess I don’t really have any questions…I will say, watching the movie helped me understand the book a little better. I was supposed to read it in high school, but I just used spark notes back in the day.”

“Good! I’m glad you have a better understanding of the themes.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later. Have a good weekend!”

“Thanks, Whitney, you too.”

They smile at each other before she leaves. He runs a hand through his hair, and attempts to get some of his grading done. Once he makes a decent enough dent, he packs his things and heads to the shop. He finds an open table to sit at, and gets to work on his courses. He was sitting near one of the aisles with the mood enhancing tea.

“I’m telling you, I’ve never been so wet in my life.” Normally, Harry wouldn’t eavesdrop, but a sentence like that was something he couldn’t just ignore. “This stuff really works.”

“Okay, but how was Robbie?”

“Hard as a rock, and desperate to please. He went down on me for, like, twenty minutes! He said I never tasted so good. We fucked for, like, an hour total. It was incredible. I’m definitely buying this stuff again. I couldn’t recommend it enough.”

“Does it taste good?”

“Mhm, like strawberries. I think that’s why it makes for such a good aphrodisiac. There’s a chocolate flavor too, but Amber said that one’s really strong, and it’s better to start out with the strawberry flavor.”

“Oh, damn, I’ll have to ask her about it then. Look, she restocked the anti-anxiety tea! The blueberry flavor is my absolute favorite.”

“I like the lemon, personally, but to each their own.”

Harry couldn’t believe what he heard, more so at the beginning of the girls’ conversation. How the fuck was he supposed to concentrate on his work now? He needed to wait out the customers like he did the night before. Opal comes trotting over to him like usual.

“Hey, there, pretty girl.” He pats the top of her head. “Thought about you today. You gonna curl up around my feet again?” Opal does just that and lets out a such that makes Harry chuckle. As the sun sets, and less people are in the shop, Harry finishes up his work. He notices Amber wiping down the tables. “Hey.” He says to her, standing up and walking over to her. “Could we talk?”

“Is this still about your dream? I told you might have some weird, vivid ones with it being your first time drinking the tea.”

“It’s just…I don’t know why I would have dreamt something like that. I asked you what was wrong, and you told me it was nothing I needed to worry about.”

“Hm, sounds like dream me is a lot like the actual me.” She smirks. Harry frowns slight, and she sighs. “You’re really worked up about this, huh?”

“A little, yeah.”

Amber looks down at Opal, and then back to Harry.

“I wish I could be more help, but it was just a dream, Harry. Try having some more tea tonight and see what you dream about.” She looks down at her watch. “I need to close up early, I have somewhere to be in a bit.”

“Oh, uh, do you have a date, or something?”

“What? No.” She scoffs. “I take Opal for a long walk on Friday nights. She gets antsy if we don’t leave on time.”

“Is that safe?”

“Of course it is.” She blinks at Harry. “We just go walking through some of the neighborhoods with the students live off campus.”

“Could I join you? Haven’t explored the area all that much.”

“Wouldn’t it be weird for you? In case you run into your students?”

“Nah.” He shrugs. “Doubt they’ll recognize me in the dark.”

“Let him come with us.” Opal says, and Amber glares down at her. “I know we were going for a hunt, but it might be good to get to know him better. His dream could mean something.”

“Ugh, fine!” Her voice startles Harry a bit. “Be at your door in ten minutes with some sensible shoes on.” She looks down at the loafers he’s wearing. “You’ll wanna wear sneakers, Grandpa.”

Ten minutes later, Harry was waiting outside his door for Amber. He decided to wear his light-wash jeans and a windbreaker, along with his glasses. Amber came down the stairs with Opal wearing a long black jacket, and black jeans tucked into a pair of combat boots. Her hair was down for a change, Harry thought it looked beautiful.

“Ready?” She asks him.

“Mhm, you’re not going to put a leash on Opal?”

“Nah, she’s not the type to run away.” They both head down the stairs and out the back door to the street. They make their way to the off-campus neighborhood.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how long have you been dying your hair that color? It’s really pretty.”

“Huh?”

“Your roots never show either, do you touch it up at home?”

“I don’t dye my hair.”

“Amber, remember who you’re talking to.” Opal says.

“I mean, uh, I have a hairdresser do it.” She smiles weakly at Harry. “I go every six weeks like clockwork. My hair’s, uh, naturally blonde, so my roots don’t show.”

“Really? But your eyebrows are so dark?”

“Dye those too.” Amber hated lying about herself, but there was nothing she could really do about it. “I don’t really like talking about myself, um, let’s talk about you. How come you’re going to grad school here and teaching?”

“Well, I love literature, reading and whatnot. I have a degree in English Education, but I wanna teach at a collegiate level, so I got into the master’s program here, and they’re letting me teaching. I’m technically a grad assistant, but I have my own classes.” They cross the street, and head up a slight hill. “Sort of hurt a bit when you said you hated reading.” He chuckles.

“I’m not going to apologize for that. I genuinely hate it if it’s not for research.”

“Did something make you not like reading as a kid?”

“I didn’t have much of a chance to read as a kid.” She mutters. “I went to an agricultural boarding school growing up, not much time for reading fantasy books when you’re working the land.”

“Wow! Why’d you do that?”

“I didn’t really have of a choice.”

“How come?”

“I just didn’t. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Well, is that how you got so good at making tea and coffee? I overheard some girls talking earlier, uh, you make an aphrodisiac?”

“I make a few, yeah. What did you hear?”

“That they work really well.” He smirks.

“They do. I only put out the best.”

“What would make you put out a product like that?”

“Sex sells.” She grins at him.

“Have you ever tested your product?”

“Sure, I test all of them to make sure they work properly.”

“And you found that it worked properly?” He smirks.

Amber is about to make a smart remark when she hears a blood curdling scream. She and Opal look at each other before sprinting off in the direction of the scream. Harry’s puzzled, and concerned, so he runs after them. He couldn’t believe how fast Amber could run. They all hear the scream again, and run towards the beginning of one of the walking trails. Harry loses sight of Amber and Opal as they run deeper into the woods. Harry’s stumped on where they could have gone. He uses the flashlight on his phone to help him see better.

“Help!” He hears a woman yell, and runs towards the sound.

When he gets closer, he starts getting major déjà vu. It was just like his dream. He stops short when he finds Amber and Opal. Opal’s eyes were glowing a striking blue and so were Amber’s. Amber’s necklace was glowing bright orange too. There was a woman on the ground, knocked unconscious. There was some odd shadow looming over her. All of a sudden, Amber’s hands start glowing, and what looks like electricity comes from her fingertips. It latches around the shadow like shackles, and it bellows a horrible sound.

“Who sent you?!” Amber yells to the shadow, but before she can get an answer, it vanishes. “Son of a bitch!”

“Amber.” Opal says. “Harry…”

Amber looks over at Harry, who she had completely forgotten about. Her necklace, eyes, and hands stop glowing. She looks down at the woman on the ground. She looked like a college student. Amber sighs, and raises her hands up, thus levitating the woman.

“Can you carry her? I’ll explain later.” Amber says.

Harry nods, and cautiously takes the woman in his arms, carrying her bridal style. Amber puts her hand on one of Harry’s shoulders, and blinks. Next thing Harry knows, they’re back on one of the streets in the neighborhood. Amber places her hand on the girl’s forehead, and takes a deep breath. Her eyes glow for a moment before she takes her hand away. She snaps her fingers, and the girl disappears from Harry’s arms.

“What the fu-“ Amber snaps her fingers again, and they’re in her apartment. “Fuck!” Harry pants, totally freaked out.

“Okay, calm down.”

“Calm down? Calm down?! How do you expect me to calm down?!”

“If you don’t then she won’t be able to explain.” Opal says.

“Did she just talk?” Harry points to Opal.

“Yeah…she must be allowing you to hear her.” Amber shrugs.

“Right.” Harry’s eyes roll back, and he faints, dropping to the floor.

“And here I was thinking I’d have to force him to drink some tea to make him think this was all a dream.”

“Don’t you think he deserves an explanation? He literally had a dream where something similar happened! What if he’s some sort of mage too, but just doesn’t know it?”

“How could he not know it?”

“Not everyone’s born into it like you were. Maybe something drew him here, and maybe things activated when he drank the tea.”

“What do you want me to do, wake him up and explain everything to him? No way, I’m not diving in deep with a stranger.”

“But if you just-“

“Enough!” Amber’s eye glow warningly. “What I say goes.” She snaps her fingers, sending Harry down to his own bed. “He’ll just think he had another wild dream.”

“Wouldn’t that be suspicious?”

“Not if I give him something.” She grins. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Amber snaps herself down to Harry’s bedroom. She sprinkles some dried strawberry dust over his open mouth. “Sweet dreams.” She nearly cackles, and snaps herself back upstairs. “With the dream he��s about to have, he won’t be recalling a damn thing. It’s better if he doesn’t know.”

“We’ll see about that, stubborn girl.”

Harry wakes up Saturday in a cold sweat. He couldn’t remember how he ended up in bed, or taking his clothes off. He rips the blankets back and winces when the cold air hits his stiffy. He was used to being hard in the morning, but not like this. His prick was swollen and throbbing, begging to be taken care of.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He spits into his hand and grips himself.

He hisses from his own touch. He tries to remember last night. He recalls going for a walk, and then not much else. He jerks himself off until he comes. When he does, he swears a wank has never felt so good. He makes a proper mess of his tummy and heads for the shower. As he’s washing his hair, he notices he’s still hard, like, really hard. Not the post orgasm hard before he softens, it was like he hadn’t come at all. He sighs heavily, and starts pumping himself again. He grips at the tile on the walls as he whimpers and whines until he comes again.

When he gets out of the shower, and walks towards his dresser, he feels a throbbing between his legs. He looks down and sees that he’s hard again. Now he’s just annoyed. He had no idea what was going on. Unfortunately, he knew it wasn’t gonna go away on its own, so he jerks off a third time. He gets dressed, and goes upstairs to Amber’s apartment. He knocks on the door, but doesn’t hear anything.

“Amber, you home?!” He knocks again, but there’s nothing. She didn’t open until noon on Saturdays, where could she be?

He heads down the stairs, and peers into the shop, but doesn’t see anyone. He hears some noises coming from the basement door. He sighs and goes over to it. He knows he’s not supposed to go down there, but he needed answers. He knocks on the door loudly.

“Amber, you down there?!” He jiggles the door handle, and much to his surprise, it’s unlocked. “Amber?” Harry makes his way downstairs, and is stunned with what he sees. There were dozens of bookcases filled with old looking books, and bottles full of different liquids and leaves.

“Harry!” Amber shouts as she storms towards him. “You’re not supposed to be down here!”

“The door was unlocked.”

“Fucking.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I’ll have to talk with Penny. Go upstairs, now.”

“What is all of this stuff?”

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Is this a weird meth lab or something? Are you a drug dealer? Is that what you’re really selling to the students?” He gasps for a moment. “Are you selling them ecstasy?”

“What?! You’re a fucking moron!”

“Then explain what’s going on because I woke up with a raging boner this morning, and it took a really long time for it to go away, and I also can’t remember a thing that happened last night, so I want some answers!”

“Wait, you woke up the boner?”

“How is that the thing you’re focusing on?”

“You were supposed to have a wet dream. Did you dream about anything?”

“No, one second I was on a walk and the next I woke up in my bed all sweaty and hard.”

“Weird.”

“You’re telling me. Now-“

“No, it’s weird because what I gave you had a delayed effect.” She walks over to one of the shelves and pulls out a book. She flips through one of the pages. “Ohhhh.” She nods, closes the book, and puts it back. “I sprinkled some strawberry dust in your mouth from my dried stash, it’s extremely potent, that’s why I make it into a tea. Um, when it’s used the way I used it…it’s supposed to make you have a wet dream. I think it delayed because you passed out last night.”

“I did?!”

“Yes.” She sighs, and snaps her fingers, bringing them to her apartment.

“Amber, I’m about two seconds away from-“

“Have a seat.” She points to her couch, and sits down. He sits down next to her, but not too close.

“Where’s Opal?”

“Out shopping with Penny. She upset with me because of last night. She wanted me to tell you everything, but I didn’t want to. I guess I don’t really have a choice now.”

“What do you mean she wanted you to tell me?” Harry blinks.

“May I press my forehead to yours? It’ll be easier to explain that way.”

“Um, sure?”

Amber grips the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him closer. It was almost like she was about to kiss him, but she doesn’t. She presses her forehead to Harry’s, and her eyes start glowing. Harry suddenly has flashes of everything from the night before. She lets go of him, and gives him a moment to process everything.

“Holy shit.” He says, blinking a few times. “So my dream did mean something.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. You had some sort of vision, and I have no idea why.”

“What are you then?”

“I’m a mage.”

“Which is what?”

“Well, it’s sort of like a witch, but less spooky. I can cast spells, and I have other abilities. I was born into it. My hair color is naturally like this, that’s why you haven’t seen my roots grow out.”

“Your necklace was glowing last night too. Does that have anything to do with it?”

“I’ve had this since I was born. It helps enhance things.” She grips the jewel for a moment. “It also keeps me safe.”

“From who?”

“People who might want me for their own selfish needs. I’ve been trying to track this…this thing down. A demon of some kind attacked Opal last spring. I thought I was close to finding it last night, but that shadow was just a minion.”

“Do you know why something might have attacked her?”

“We’ve…wait a second, you’re taking all of this in a little too easily. You’re not freaked out?”

“Most of the fiction I read is fantasy based.” He shrugs. “Besides, it’s hard to doubt something when you see it with your own eyes. So, why do you think something attacked her?”

“We’ve been trying to figure it out for months! We were out in the woods at night collecting some leaves. I turned my back for a second and I heard her yelp out. It was terrible. Luckily, it left before it could do some real damage. I don’t want it hurting her, or any of the college students. Seems like it’s back.”

“Can I ask…why have a shop that’s so obviously full of magic?”

“A lot of people are into natural healing methods these days. And this is a pretty granola town.” She shrugs. “I’ve been here the last four years. Things took off quickly.”

“Where were you before?”

“I told, you I went to an agricultural boarding school. It was for kids like me. I…don’t really know my parents, and I don’t have any siblings. They kind of just send you off once you’re of age to go to pre-school.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It wasn’t.” She shakes her head. “Well, it was and it wasn’t. I learned how to keep myself safe, and learn how to properly use my powers. They let you leave when you’re twenty. I had all my firsts there. My first kiss, my first love, my first heartbreak.” She sighs.

“Is Penny a mage too?”

“Sort of.” Amber smiles. “She’s more a mother to me than my own. She practically raised me. When I left the school I asked her to come with me, and she agreed.”

“When did you get Opal?”

“When you’re little, around the age of six, they take you to a farm so you can connect with an animal. She was the cutest puppy I had ever seen. I bonded with her right away. We ran around and played and laughed. Opal’s my everything.”

“And she can talk with you and others telepathically?”

“Correct. She has to feel bonded to the people she allows to hear her. She’s felt comfortable with you since you got here…I’ve also been trying to figure that out. It pisses me off to no end that she likes you.”

“Why?” He chuckles.

“Because I can’t stand you. You’re so fucking positive and bouncy. You’re always in a good mood, it’s disgusting.” She grimaces.

“Well, I know being a mage can’t mean you’re crabby because Penny’s always delighted to see me.” He smirks. “It disgusts you that I’m happy?”

“Very much so, yes.” She nods.

“I can’t help it. I’ve got a great job, I’m studying something I’m interested in, and I get to see you every day. What could be better than that?”

“You’re happy because you get to see me every day?”

“Well, sure. You’re so interesting, and…I’m very attracted to you, but I’m sure that’s been obvious to you since I walked through the door.” He rubs the back of his neck as he blushes.

“I’m flattered, but I’m not really one for dating. I don’t have the time for it. Not when there’s a fucking demon on the loose that I can’t seem to track down.”

“Maybe I could help. Two heads are better than one.” He smiles.

“No, the only thing you can help with is keeping all of this to yourself. You can’t say a thing to anyone.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She nods and takes her necklace off. Harry watches as she moves her fingers above the stone, and crates an amber ring from it.

“Here, you like to wear rings, so put this on.” She grabs one of his hands and slides the ring onto his pinky. “This will keep you safe. It’ll keep us connected.”

“Thank you for trusting me with all of this. Um, so about this morning…did you think I was going to be distracted by a saucy dream?” He smirks.

“It was supposed to make you forget everything entirely. I’m sorry it didn’t work right, that must have been painful. How many times did you, uh, you know, before it stopped?”

“Three.”

“Poor thing.” She pouts. “You must be exhausted.”

“I’m still a little tired, yeah.” He chuckles.

“Why don’t you go to take a nap? Penny and Opal should be back soon, and I need to catch them up on everything.”

“This isn’t some trick, right? You’re not going to try to cast a spell to make me forget?”

“No.” She chuckles. “I don’t see much use in it. Your body was clearly trying to fight off what I gave you.”

“Does, um, does it always last like that?”

“Oh, you mean staying hard after you come?”

“Yeah.” He blushes.

“Not if you fuck someone. If you’re alone and have to take care of it yourself it takes longer for it to wear off since you’re not exerting as much energy.” They both stand up and she walks him to her door. “Should have come knocking sooner, I could have helped you out.” She winks at him.

“That’s not funny.” He deadpans.

She laughs anyways, and sends him out. She snaps herself back to the basement where Opal and Penny are already waiting for her.

“Before so a word, I told him what he needed to know.” Amber tells them.

“The powder didn’t work?” Penny asks.

“No, apparently it didn’t kick in until just before he woke up. Poor thing had to jerk it three times.” Amber shrugs.

“See! This is why I think something is dormant within him. First, your tea causes him to have a vision. Second, the powder didn’t work. What did he say when you told him what was going on?” Opal says.

“He took it really well. The questions he asked were more for his understanding, to piece things together. He wasn’t freaked out at all.”

“Then that’s a third thing. We need to figure out what he is.”

“I know, but how? It’s not like I can experiment on him.” Amber sighs.

“I’ve heard of this before.” Penny says, padding over to one of the book shelves. She makes a motion with her hands to get one of the books on the top shelf down. She brings the book over to the lectern so she and Amber could look at it together. Penny flips through the pages, and finds what she’s looking for. “Ah-ha! Here it is. Long ago, there were families that left the coven, wanting to leave the magic behind. It was when a lot of those awful witch hunts became popular. After a few generations, the families became unaware of their abilities, thus the magic lying dormant within. Apparently, all it takes to ignite the magic is meeting another witch, and drinking something magical they made for them. You’ve been making him tea and coffee for almost two months! Then you gave him that tea sleepy-time tea that’s laced with magic. No wonder he had a vision.” Penny shakes her head.

“I wonder if deep down he felt a pull here…to Amber.”

“Could be.” Penny ponders. “I’ve seen that happening too. Certain covens did have truces back in the day. You two could have been from two separate covens, but bonded nonetheless.”

“If you’re getting into some weird soulmate shit, I’m gonna have to head out.” Amber says.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Penny shakes her head. “When’s his birthday?”

“Um, February, I think.” Amber says.

“Then is birthstone would be an amethyst.” Opal says.

“If you look at any color wheel you’ll see that purple and yellow are polar opposites.” Penny says.

“But they’re also complimentary colors.”

“Can one of you just get to the point?!” Amber huffs.

“You’re not soulmates, but you are connected. In our various covens, those with citrine birthstones, like yours, and those with amethyst birthstones tended to make great pairs. They’re good at problem solving together.��

“I made him a ring from my stone…should I add an amethyst to it?”

“No.” Opal says. “No, he’ll need that ring to stay as it is for safety. We need to get him his own necklace with the stone. Then we can see if it glows.”

“If it glows…he’s a mage.” Penny states.

“Great, where the fuck am I supposed to get a pure amethyst on such short notice?” Amber pinches the bridge of her nose. “Not to mention getting it welded into a necklace.”

“You’ll have to take him out to the Four Peaks Mine in Arizona. I can run the shop while you’re gone. You’ll take Opal with you, simple as that.”

“It’s not simple. He has classes to teach, and there’s a demon on the loose!”

“Yes, but you might be able to ward it off together. It’s Saturday, we could get there quick, and be back by tomorrow night. Plenty of time.” Opal says.

“That’s a long way to snap us there. We’ll need to sleep there tonight so I get gain my strength back.” Amber says.

“Then so be it.” Penny says. “I can handle things here. We’re only open a half day tomorrow as is. Where is he now?”

“Napping.” Amber sighs. “I’ll go wake him up. Opal, be ready in five?”

Opal nods, and Amber snaps herself into Harry’s apartment. She walks into his bedroom where he’s sleeping soundly. Poor thing was knackered. She sits on the edge of his bed, and gently pulls him out of sleep. His eyes flutter open slowly.

“Amber?”

“Hi.” She smiles softly. “We have to go to Arizona for the night to get you an amethyst stone.”

“Um, okay…why?” He sits up a bit.

“It’s your birthstone, just as this is mine.” She points to her necklace. “We need to test something, and we need the pure substance to do so. We may be connected somehow, yellow and purple are complimentary colors.”

“Can I ask you something? If the birth stone is so important, why don’t you glow yellow instead of blue?”

“Blue and yellow are also complimentary colors, just as green and purple are. I was born in November, so it was already obvious what my stone would be, but when my parents saw my eyes for the first time…they knew I’d be powerful. Not all citrines are born with such blue eyes, only the most powerful. Your eyes are very green, so you may be quite powerful yourself, but we won’t know anything until we get to the mine. Pack an overnight bag, and be downstairs in five minutes.”

Without another word, she snaps herself out of his room, leaving him speechless.

“I’m really starting to hate it when she does that.” He says to himself before getting out of bed.

It was dusk by the time Amber was able to snap herself, Harry, and Opal to Arizona. Their first task was to find a motel to stay at for the night before heading to the mine. The biggest challenge was finding one that was pet friendly.

“The mines will be too dangerous for you two. I’ll go and bring back what we need by morning.”

“I can’t let you go alone.”

“Amber, you’ll know if something’s wrong. I’ll check in with you. Just get a room and rest up.”

Opal sprinted off into the night while Amber and Harry went to the check in area of the closest motel. They go inside to see what the vacancy situation is. An older gentleman was behind the desk.

“Good evening, folks.” He smiles warmly.

“Hi, we’d like a room with two queens please.” Amber says.

“Let me just double check if we have that available.” The man goes onto the computer on his desk. “Unfortunately, our last available room with two queens has already been reserved by a family of four coming in. I do, however, one room with a full left. Would that work?”

“A full is so tiny.” Amber frowns. “Is there at least a couch in the room?”

“A small loveseat.”

“Ugh, alright, we’ll take it.” She sighs, and gives him her credit card. Harry can’t hide the smirk on his face as the man types away at his computer. Amber glares at him briefly before taking her card back, and getting the room key.

“Enjoy your stay.” The man smiles at both of them.

“Can’t you just cast some sort of spell to make the bed bigger?” Harry asks once they’re in the room.

“No, that’s not how that works. I can’t change the molecular composition of a mattress like that. I’m also too weak to perform that kind of magic even if I wanted to. Snapping us across the country took a lot out of me, and I need to rest so I can get us home tomorrow.” She closes and locks the door behind them.

“What exactly will finding this amethyst do?”

“Well, I’ll turn it into a necklace, put it on you, and we’ll see if it glows.”

“And if it does?”

“Then you’re a mage, and we’ll have some bigger fish to fry.” She sits down on the edge of the bed and takes her boots off. “I’m gonna go wash up, and then I’m turning in. I brought some tea so we can get to sleep.” She makes her way into the bathroom. Harry goes in after her. When he’s done, she hands him a cup of tea.

“Thanks…do you think I’ll have a weird vision again?”

“You could.” Amber shrugs. “I have no idea.” She goes through her bag and pulls out a night shirt and pajama bottoms. “Turn around.”

Harry does so quickly while she changes. He grabs his own pajama pants to throw on, and stays in his tee shirt. Once they’re done with their tea, they both climb into bed. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but there was little wiggle room, and Harry was a broad, tall guy. They were shoulder to shoulder, squished in the small bed.

“Could be worse, could have been a room with just a twin.” Harry says to break the tension.

“Why in the fuck would there be a motel room with just a twin bed in it?”

“I don’t know, I was just saying.” He shrugs, and turns his head to look at her. “Clearly, there are stranger things out there than that.” He smirks.

“Go to sleep, Harry.” She rolls away from him onto her side.

“You’re making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be. You’ve never shared a bed with someone before?”

Amber sighs heavily and rolls back onto her back to look at him better.

“I have, but these are tight quarters if you haven’t noticed, and you told me you were attracted to me-“

“So? You think I’m going to disrespect you and take advantage of the situation? I’m not that kind of guy.”

“I didn’t say you were. I just feel…nervous. It’s been a while since I shared a bed with a man, that’s all. You’re pretty, um, attractive yourself, so…there’s that.” Her face had to be beat red right now, she could feel it.

“Well, look who’s expressing their feelings!” Harry gasps. “Who knew this side to you even existed?”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me, Harry. You don’t know what it was like growing up the way I did. It was really hard at times. We were basically like grounded nomads.”

“M’sorry.” He turns on his side to face her easier. “Would you, uh, would you want to have a cuddle while we drift off? Doesn’t have to mean anything, but I know you’re worried about Opal, could help you calm down some.”

Amber nods and turns back over so Harry can spoon her. He doesn’t fully press his pelvis to her bum, he didn’t want to push it and make her uncomfortable. She did feel better having his arm wrapped around her. They both drift off easily after settling, the tea kicking in.

In his dream, Harry’s brought to a large estate, like a mansion from 1800’s London. There was a large field as well, a gentle breeze flowing. It looked like it was a beautiful day. He goes walking for a bit and finds this gorgeous tree that had a few tire swings attached to it. He stops short when he sees Amber. She looked a little younger, her hair was much longer, tied back in a flowing braid, and she was wearing a black, off the shoulder maxi dress with buttons running down the front. She had her arms crossed over chest, and she didn’t look happy with the young man she was speaking with. Harry creeps a little closer to hear what they’re talking about.

“Is what Opal told me true, yes or no?” Amber says to him.

“Amber-“

“Yes, or no, Max.” She scowls at him.

“What exactly did she tell you?”

“That you’ve been practicing dark magic in the woods at night.”

“She’s never liked me.” He scoffs. “I can’t believe you’re going to believe that mat over me.”

“Be very careful with how you speak about her.” Amber’s eyes start glowing.

“Settle down.”

“Answer the question.”

“Yes, okay, yes…I’ve been practicing dark magic.”

“Why?! You know it’s against the rules.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be. It does more good than harm, everyone is just too scared because it’s powerful.”

“You’re going to get expelled if one of the elders catches you. Do you want to be thrown out into the world before you’re ready?”

“We’re eighteen, Amber, we can do whatever we want. We could leave here together, and never come back. This place is a prison.”

“This place keeps us safe. You know as well as I do we can’t leave until we’re at least twenty.”

“Since when do you follow every single rule, huh? Where’s the girl that sneaks off into my room at night?” He steps closer to her, caressing one of her cheeks.

“That’s totally different.” She swats his hand away. “You shouldn’t be messing with that shit. If Opal saw you, others could too.”

“So I’ll be more careful.”

“Or you could stop. If you don’t…if you don’t then it’s over between us.”

Max’s dark brown eyes start to glow, along with the jewel hanging from the chain around his neck. It looked like aquamarine. Brown and blue were opposites as well. Maybe those gems had a connection too? He couldn’t be sure, a lot of this was confusing. Amber’s eyes were glowing again to match Max’s energy. Both sets of their hands started glowing as well.

“You’d throw away everything between us over something so small?!” He yells at her.

“This isn’t small, this is serious! Don’t make me strike you, Max.” There were tears streaming down her cheeks.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

With a flick of her wrist, she blasts him, knocking him down to the ground. She hovers over him, ready to serve another blow.

“I’m so disappointed in you.” She says to him.

“You don’t know what you’ve just started.” He grits his teeth.

“Actually, pretty sure I just finished it. Goodbye, Max.”

Harry blinks, and all of a sudden he’s in a forest at night. He could hear growling. He runs in the direction of the noise and sees Opal growling towards a man. It was Max. Harry’s eyes widen as he watches Max chant something, striking a blow towards Opal. Harry tries to save her, but he’s frozen in his place.

“Opal?!” He hears Amber yell, and Max disappears. “Opal! Oh my god!” She drops to the ground, her body going over Opal’s and snapping them away from the scene.

Harry’s eyes burst open, and he sits up right away. Amber’s not in the bed anymore. Before he has a heart attack, he hears her coming out of the bathroom.

“Morning.” She yawns. “Opal’s about five minutes away. How’d you sleep?”

“Amber, uh, when Opal got attacked, did she ever say what it was, or who it was that attacked her?”

“No.” Amber shakes her head. “She couldn’t remember a thing. I think whatever it was put a hex on her memory of the event. Why?”

“I had a really unsettling dream.” He blinks a few times and looks at her. Before he can say anything else, Opal appears in the room, letting a large amethyst fall from her mouth.

“You wouldn’t believe the digging I had to do to get this, but it’s a good one.” She says. “You both slept in that tiny bed?”

“Not the time. Go drink some water.” Amber snatches the amethyst. It hovers above her palm. Her eyes glow, and in seconds it’s transformed into a slide on a necklace. “Let’s do this first, and then we can talk about your dream, okay?” She says to Harry as she comes over to him. Opal hops up on the bed, and Amber sits beside Harry. “Close your eyes.” She says softly, and he does so. She places the necklace over his head, and the gem rests on his chest.

The amethyst starts to hover and glow. Amber and Opal look at each other.

“Is anything happening?” Harry asks.

“Open your eyes.” Amber says.

Harry opens his eyes, and they’re glowing a bright green. He gasps when his looks down at the floating amethyst. He looks down at his hands and sees that they’re glowing too.

“How do I turn it off?!” Harry yelps in fear.

“Don’t panic! Give it a moment, the gem is bonding with you, just breathe.” Amber says.

A few moments pass before the gem rests on Harry’s chest once more. He eyes and hands stop glowing as well, and he takes a deep breath.

“What does all of this mean?” He asks them.

“You’re a mage, your abilities have been dormant for quite some time. You’re definitely more powerful than most, you’ll have to learn how to hone in on it.” Opal explains.

“I guess that would explain the vision-type dreams. I…Amber, I saw your break up with someone named Max. You got into a fight because he was performing dark magic. Then I was in the woods where Opal was attacked. It was him who attacked her, not some random demon.”

“What?!” Amber’s eyes flash for a moment. “I’ll kill him, I’ll-“

“No, Amber, that’s the exact rage he wants you to feel.” Opal says. “But we do need to track him down before he does more damage around town. Those college kids don’t deserve his wrath.”

When they all got back Sunday evening, Amber explained everything to Penny. She was beyond infuriated, and reached out to the other elders back at the boarding school to let them know what was going on. Harry was taking in a lot of information in, but he was doing well at not freaking out. Penny took him aside to calmly explain to him was his powers meant, and that there was a code of ethics he’d need to read up on and follow. Now that Amber knew Max was involved, she needed to figure out a way to track him down, and fast.

The weeks go on, no shadows lurking, no demons, and no Max. Amber, Penny, and Opal take advantage of the quiet to train Harry in their spare time. Lucky for them, he was a fast reader, and a quick learner. He was picking up certain spells naturally. He knew it would take a while to get as good as Amber at all of this, but he was happy with the progress he was making. He had never felt more like himself in his life. Penny had them working on combination spells, and boy were they powerful. The blue and green glows mixed beautifully.

“I have a feeling he may strike on Halloween.” Opal says to them one evening.

“Wouldn’t that be sort of cliché?” Harry asks.

“Please, Max lives for shit like that. He probably thinks it’ll be the perfect cover since we usually go out on Halloween.” Amber says.

“What do you do?”

“Penny stays back to hand out candy to the little kids, and Opal and I usually go around making sure there aren’t any creatures looking for trouble.”

“If Opal thinks he may strike on Halloween, then I think I know where we could wait for him. If I draw out where I had that original vision, do you think you’d know where in the woods it is?”

“It’s worth a try.” Opal says.

Opal knew exactly where Harry was talking about after looking over the picture he drew. Halloween was only a few days away, they needed to prepare. Harry was about to get ready for bed when there was a knock on his door. He looks through the peephole to see Amber, and he smiles.

“Hi, there.” He says as he opens the door.

“Hi, may I come in?”

“Of course.” She nods and comes inside. She had on an oversized shirt and pajama pants. Harry smirks to himself as he closes the door. “So, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I just…well, I just wanted to say that I’m really proud of you.”

“For what?”

“Taking all of this so well, for jumping in without a second thought. You’re doing really well with the lessons, and I know it’s got to be stressful because you’re trying to balance this whole mess along with getting your master’s and teaching.” She chews on her bottom lip. “I know Penny is really good at giving praise, but I’m not always so good at it…that’s what the kids at the boarding school used to tell me when I’d work with them anyways, so I just wanted to make sure I told you how proud I am. I really couldn’t stand you when we first met, but I like you a lot more now.”

He knew the last part was a joke, so he laughs before responding.

“Thanks, that means a lot. When I’m passionate about something, I tend to just dive right in, and I usually aim to please.” He steps a little closer to her. “Is that all you came down here for? To praise me?”

She narrows her eyes at him while her cheeks turn a bright red. He was making her nervous, and she hated feeling that way.

“What else would I have come down here for?” She puts her hands on her hips.

“I don’t know, you tell me. Typically, when a girl comes knocking at my door after midnight, she’s looking for something very particular.”

Amber scoffs and shakes her head. She crosses her arms as she smirks at him.

“Mm, I bet you’d love it if I came down here to seduce you. You strike me as the type that likes to hear a woman beg for your cock. Am I right about that, Harry? You’re so nice and sweet all day long, do you like to get a little mean in the bedroom?” She raises her eye brows playfully. “No, maybe you like it when your woman gets a little mean, or maybe it’s a mix of both.”

“You know what I think?”

“Tell me.”

“I think that whoever you’ve slept with in the past never pleased you in the way that you need to be pleased.”

“And how do I need to be pleased?”

“Probably with a lot of tongue, I’m guessing.” He watches as Amber’s pupils dilate just the smallest amount. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To feel all warm and wet between your thighs.”

“I’ve got a toy that does that for me. Perfectly mimics the feeling of someone sucking on my clit.”

“Can’t beat the real thing.”

“Sure it can.” She shrugs. “It gets me panting, mining, screaming. And it gets me absolutely soaked. Probably squirted for all I know.” She pushes past him to walk towards his door. “Sleep well, Harry.”

“How am I supposed to sleep knowing that right above me you’re soaking your own sheets?” He pouts at her.

“Drink some tea, you’ll sleep just fine.” She winks, and out the door she goes.

Harry groans to himself, and heads to the kitchen to make himself some tea. There’s no way he’d sleep on his own tonight.

“I should be going with you two.”

“No, you’ll stay here with Penny where it’s safe. Dark magic can’t infiltrate the shop. You’re his target, so we’ll have a fake you set up.” Amber says. Both her and Harry were dressed in all black. She takes his hand in hers, and she snaps them out to the forest. “We’ll have to travel the rest of the way on foot.” She tells Harry.

“When we get there, and we catch him…what exactly are you going to do.”

“I’m going to take his powers away. I should have done it a long time ago.”

“You know how to do that?”

“Yes, Penny taught me how. It’s only for extreme circumstances, but I know how to sort of, like, bend the energy from him. His stone will go black, and that’ll be it.”

“So…all of this is because he thinks you broke up with him because of something Opal saw him do?”

“It’s more than that.” Amber sighs. “He was always jealous…I put Opal first a lot. He didn’t have the same relationship with his animal guide, and eventually he parted from it. That can break something within you. It’s probably why he turned to the dark magic in the first place. I tried to be there for him, but we started fighting a lot more, and when Opal told me what she saw, that was the last straw for me.”

“How long were you together for?”

“Well, I’d known him my whole life, but we got together when we were sixteen, so two years. He was my first everything. I’ve had other relationships, but it’s tough dating a non-mage. Everything has to be a secret; it’s exhausting.”

“Hearing you say that helps me make sense of my own dating life. I never felt fully connected to any of my girlfriends, even when we were having sex. I felt like I was trying to force the passion or something.”

“God, you’re such a romantic.” She says in a disgusted tone. “It’s all that damn fiction you read.”

“Are you telling me you don’t want to have passionate sex?”

“No, but sometimes sex is just sex. You get your rocks off, zip back up, and get on with your day.”

“That doesn’t sound like much fun.”

“Have you ever fucked someone you hated?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever hated anyone to be honest with you. I’ve not liked people before.”

“Okay, have you ever fucked someone you didn’t like?”

“Why would I do that?”

“You can be attracted to someone and hate their guts. It’s hot and lustful.” She smirks.

“Too bad we didn’t fuck when you hated me then. Could have been pretty steamy.”

“You’re an idiot.” She laughs. “Wait, I think we’re here. Get into positron.”

The two of them huddle behind a large tree. Amber’s eyes glow, and with a few twists of her fingers, a fake Opal is created. Amber acts as if the dog is a puppet, making her sniff around and dig. Harry quietly watches in amazement. Before long, a shadow appears, then a few more. Max appears with the shadows, his eyes glowing a reddish brown.

“You must think I’m a real idiot.” Max chuckles lowly, snapping his fingers and making the fake Opal vanish. “Come on out Amber.” Amber and Harry stand up, coming out from behind the tree. “Oh, look! You’ve brought a friend. Did you really think I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between your mutt and an illusion?” He smirks.

“No, we knew you’d figure it out.” Amber says. “You’re such a sick fuck trying to hurt her when really it’s me you’re mad at. I broke your heart, and you blame her, but you did it to yourself. You knew I wouldn’t tolerate all of this.”

“You broke just about every rule you could at that boarding school!”

“Yeah, like sneaking into your room after hours, and breaking curfew, not messing with dark magic! It’s possessed you, your eyes aren’t supposed to glow red. I’ve grown fond of this town, and I won’t have you terrorizing defenseless kids because of me. This ends now.”

“Well, you’re about that, but I don’t think you’ll be satisfied with the outcome. See, I’m going to find Opal, and I’m going to make sure she learns that eavesdropping isn’t okay. I know she’s gotten older, but even old dogs can learn new tricks.”

Max’s hands and eyes start glowing, and he charges towards Amber.

“Harry, handle the shadows, I’ll take care of Max!” She yells just as she jumps into the air to avoid Max’s blow.

While Amber and Max cast spells at each other, Harry springs into action. He couldn’t fly or float, or whatever the fuck Amber’s able to do just yet, but he had gotten pretty good at casting key defense and offense spells. Max’s shadows were strong, getting the better of Harry a few times, but Harry’s eyes start glowing along with his gem, and then all bets are off for the shadows. He’s impressed with himself when he’s able to make them vanish. He looks over and sees Amber and Max rushing towards each other with an immense amount of rage. The blow they strike at the same time explodes, causing them both to be flung backwards. Amber’s back slams into a tree, making her fall to the ground.

“Amber!” Harry sprints over to her, cradling her face in his hands. “Come on, Love, wakeup.” He’s panicking now.

“I should have known.” Max says as he scrambles to his feet. Harry looks over at him. “An amethyst and a citrine, how cliché.” He scoffs. “You’re new to all of this, I can feel it. Why she’d spend her time with a mongrel like you is beyond me.” His hands start glowing again as he walks over to Harry. “Not to worry, once you and Opal are out of the picture, she’ll be all mine once more.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re mistaken.”

Harry lunges forward, tackling Max by the legs. He pins him down, and punches Max in the face. Max telepathically throws Harry off him. Harry casts spell after spell towards Max, but they’re all blocked.

“You’re weak, what could she possibly want with you?” Max laughs as he blocks another strike.

Amber’s eyes flutter open, and she sees the two men fighting. She rises off the ground, and gets high enough to have an arial view of them. She watches as Max throws Harry into a tree. That was the last straw. She takes a deep breath, and nose dives towards Max. He doesn’t see it coming as he’s forced into the ground. She pins him down and snatches the gem around his neck, and breaks the chain.

“What are you doing?!” He shouts.

“Something I should have done a long time ago. You’re too dangerous.” Amber shoots back up into the air, and Max follows her.

“Give it back!”

“No!”

She wraps the chain around her fist, and points her other arm out at him. The blue glow leaves her palm and goes right to Max’s heart. First, a red glow starts to leave his body, and soon it turns into Max’s original brown glow. They both start lowering to the ground. He’s screaming at the top of his lungs, and she has tears streaming down her cheeks. There’s a large flash of light, and then nothing.

“You have no idea what you’ve done.” He says weakly on his knees looking up at her.

“I know exactly what I’ve done.” She throws Max’s gem on the ground and steps on it, breaking it into tiny pieces. “I can’t believe I thought this would actually be a challenge.” She pushes him all the way down to the ground with her boot, and steps on his chest. “Only the weak turn to dark magic.”

“What am I supposed to do without my powers?” He asks weakly.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask your friends?” The shadows come to surround Max. Amber steps back from him and watches as they circle around him. They look to her. “Unless you want to end up just like that, I strongly suggest you take him far away from here.” They all vanish. Amber had a feeling this fight was long from over, but for now Max wouldn’t be able to do any more damage. She rushes over to Harry who was still laying on the ground. “Harry!” She cradles his head into her lap and places her hand on his forehead.

“Amber?”

“Hey.” She smiles down at him.

“Did we win?”

“We did.” She nods. “You were so brave trying to battle him. I took his powers away, we should be safe for a while.”

“I bet Opal will be relieved.”

“Yeah, she will be. Let’s get back to the shop, yeah?”

Harry hums his response just as Amber snaps them to the shop. Penny and Opal were cleaning up from the trick or treating.

“You’re back!” Opal exclaims, running over to the two of them. Amber drops to her knees to hug her friend.

“I took his powers away. We could easily see him again, but not for a long time.” Amber says.

“I’m so proud of you.” Opal nuzzles her forehead to Amber’s. “I’m proud of you too, Harry.”

“I’m glad you’ll be safe now.” Harry scratches at Opal’s head.

“You two look knackered.” Penny says. “Here, I made some tea for you both, go upstairs and unwind for a bit. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

“Good idea, thank you. Where’s the tea?” Amber asks.

“I snapped it up to Harry’s apartment.” Penny smiles. “Go on, Opal and I can finish locking up.”

Harry and Amber make their way into his apartment. They see the tea on his coffee table, and sit down on his sofa. They’re quiet for a moment as they take a sip. It had the faintest hint of a coffee smell, which was peculiar. It should either taste like chamomile or vanilla. Amber was too tired to question it.

“I’m going to head up.” She says after finishing her tea. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Alright.” He smiles at her. “We can keep training together, right? I’d like to keep learning.”

“Of course.” She smiles. “You still have a lot to learn. Goodnight, Harry.”

“Night, sleep well.” He walks her to the door and watches as she heads upstairs.

Amber takes a quick shower, and changes into a tee shirt and bed shorts. Opal was already asleep on the daybed in the living room. Amber crawls into bed and sighs with relief. She tosses and turns for a bit. She felt wide awake now, like she had just been given a burst of energy. She huffs and puffs, getting more and more uncomfortable. She feels hot all over, and kicks her blankets back. Her thighs felt sweaty, so she dips her fingers inside her shorts and gasps. She was wet, incredibly wet. She sits up and remembers the tea.

“Fucking, Penny.” She groans. Coffee had a way of masking other smells. Amber gets out of bed, getting more and more frustrated with each step. Opal pops an eye open.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Why’d you let Penny give me the mood tea?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Seems like your problem will go away faster if you see Harry, though.”

“You’ll face my wrath in the morning.”

“Mhm, go have some fun.”

Amber makes her way down the stairs to Harry’s apartment. She bangs on his door, preying he wasn’t asleep already. After a few moments, he opens the door only wearing a pair of boxer briefs. He was holding a pillow over his crotch. Amber places her hands on either side of the doorframe.

“We have a problem.” She huffs. “Penny slipped us the wrong tea.”

“Was wondering why I got so hard once I got into bed.” He looks her up and down. “Why’d you come all the way down here?”

“Because if we don’t take care of it properly then we’ll be up all night, and I don’t feel like masturbating for hours on end until it stops.”

“Here I was thinking I’d have to wank off to just the thought of you.” He steps closer to her, dropping the pillow to the floor. Her eyes flicker down to his strained prick.

“I wanted us to go out on a proper date before we did anything like this.” Amber mutters. “Penny’s so pushy whenever she wants me to be with someone.”

“Do you ever listen to her?”

“No.”

“Seems like she took the necessary steps.” He hooks an arm around her waist, pulling her into him. “I’ll take you out to breakfast tomorrow morning, how’s that sound?”

“I’ve always wanted to go on a breakfast date.”

“You wanna do this? I can kiss you, touch you?” His lips ghost over hers.

“Please, take care of me. M’dripping.”

“For me?”

“For you.” She confirms. “This stuff is potent, but it works better when you have someone in mind that you really want to fuck.”

Harry groans and slots his mouth over hers. He brings her further into the apartment, and kicks the door closed. His hands cup her cheeks as they bump into various walls. She bites down on his bottom lip and he moans into her. He licks into her mouth and starts sucking on her tongue. She tugs on his hair and jumps up so he can carry her into his room. Her legs wrap securely around his waist, moaning into his mouth as he sucks on her bottom lip. He drops her onto his bed, a whine escaping her from the loss of his body. He smirks as he moves to hover over her, attaching his lips to her neck. He sponges wet kisses along her skin, and nibbles on her earlobe.

“What do you like, Amber?” He says into her ear, and her hips buck up into his.

“Anything right now would be good, I’m soaked.” She whimpers, and he moves to look at her.

“Because of the tea, or because you really want me, because I can’t fuck you if it’s just from the tea.”

“It’s a mix of both. The tea can bring out things you’re already feeling for someone else. I want you, I mean it, I’m not just saying it so you’ll fuck me. I…I like you, alright? I really do like you. I think about you when you’re not around, and the best part of my day is when you come into the shop after you’ve finished working for the day. You set up your stupid laptop and work on your stupid assignments, all while looking unapologetically handsome.”

“Why would you keep all of that to yourself for so long, hm?” He coos, brushing some hair away from her face.

“Because romance makes me sick, and so does being vulnerable.” She pouts at him.

“Well, lucky for you, I’m pretty good at both.” He presses his lips to her once more before shifting down her body. He tugs on her shorts, and she lifts her hips to help him take them off. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, which made things much easier. His eyes widen when he sees how slick she is between her legs. “Christ, you weren’t kidding.”

“It hurts, please, just do something.” She whines again.

Harry smirks before licking over one of her inner thighs, and then the other. He licks over her slit, and she moans out in relief. He licks up to her clit and sucks harshly on it. He moans into her and presses down on her lower stomach. He slides two fingers inside her, and her head rolls back into his pillows. Harry thought she tasted amazing, and she was so wet and warm around his fingers. He was leaking into his boxers, he could feel it. He knew part of it was from the tea, but he also knew how he felt about her. He had been dreaming of this moment since the day he met her, and he couldn’t believe it was finally happening. The tips of his fingers pet against her g-spot, and her hands fly to his hair to grip onto. He continues to suck on her clit, trying not to bust in his boxers too soon. She cries out as she comes around his fingers. She gets her shirt off while he rids himself of his boxers. He comes back down to hover over her. He licks into her mouth as her arms wrap around her his neck. He ruts his hard cock against her folds.

“Do you want me to wear a condom?” He asks her as he starts to knead her breasts.

“N-no.” She shakes her head. “Are you okay with that? I…I’m clean.”

“So am I. Are you on the pill, or something?”

“I have an IUD, so you can come inside me if you want.”

“Is that what you want?”

“We’re going to be able to go for multiple rounds, and I want you to fill me up each time.”

“Fuck.” He groans, and spreads her legs farther apart.

He rubs his tip along her clit before pushing inside. Her nails dig into his shoulders, her mouth falling open from the stretch he was giving her. Her heels dig into the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to her. Her hands trail down his back until they reach his bum, sinking her nails into the plushy skin.

“You feel so fucking good.” She gasps as he thrusts in and out of her.

“So do you.” He groans. “You’re so fucking tight, don’t know how long I’ll last.”

“It doesn’t matter, you’ll get hard again.”

“Thought you said since we were taking care of it properly it won’t last quite as long?”

“It won’t last as long, but it’ll still last for bit.” She pulls his face down to hers to kiss him. “Let me get on top, yeah?”

He nods, and rolls them both over. She readjusts, and starts bouncing up and down on him. She throws her head back and scratches down his stomach. His hands find her hips, thrusting up into her to match her pace. He watches as her tits bounce up and down. He sits up a bit so he can suck on one of her nipples. Her clit rubs against him perfectly, and she’s coming again in no time. With another thrust, he come inside her, biting down on her shoulder in the process.

“You’re amazing.” He mutters into her neck. “I can feel how hard I still I am.” He groans as he looks up at her. “It’s like I’ve got a cock ring on or something.”

“I know, don’t worry, we’ll make it go away together.” She smiles and lifts herself off of him. “Um…there’s something I’m sort of into, and I was wondering if you might be too?”

“Well, what is it?”

“Could I…would you be comfortable if, I, uh, got behind you and lick you? Maybe use my fingers? I can conjure up some lube.”

Harry’s eyes visibly dilate, making Amber smirk.

“You have no idea how okay with that I am.”

“Yeah? Have you done it before?”

“No, but I’ve always wanted to. I think I actually have some lube here. Let me just double check my side table.” Harry eagerly leans over and reaches into his side table drawer. He finds a bottle of lube and tosses it to her. He gets onto his stomach for her, and she giggles as he wiggles his bum at her.

“M’gonna make you feel so good.” She says lowly, giving his bum a little smack before leaning down to spread him apart.

She licks a strip around his hole, swirling around his him. He grips the blankets on the bed, moaning and whimpering into his pillow as she suckled and slurped around his hole. She sits up for a moment to get some lube on her fingers. She starts with her middle finger, rubbing it around his rim, and then slowly slipping it inside him.

“Fuck.” He groans.

“Does it hurt?”

“No, feels good, don’t stop.”

Amber bites her bottom lip as she slips another finger inside him. She pumps them carefully, she didn’t want him to be in any sort of pain, this was supposed to be pleasurable. Her fingers get deep enough to reach a particular part inside of him. She reaches a hand around front to grip his throbbing cock.

“Doing so well, Harry.”

“Think you found my prostate, shit, feels so fucking good.” He grits his teeth as her thumb rubs over his tip. “M’gonnna come again, fuck!”

Amber presses his prick as close to his stomach as possible to make less of a mess as he comes. She slowly retracts her fingers from him, and lets him roll onto his back. He was sweaty and panting. She licks the palm of her hand that was full of his come, and then leans down to lick his stomach clean. His prick hardens back up instantly.

“Harry, I’m so wet, I almost came watching you enjoy yourself.” She says after licking her lips. “And your come tastes so good.” She pouts.

“I eat a lot of fruit.” He breathes. “Lay on your side for me.” He pats the spot next to him, and she does what he says. They get into a spooning position. She raises her leg a bit, and he slips inside.

“Oh, wow, you’re in so deep.” She arches into him. He grips her hip and starts moving in and out of her.

“Yeah? Like feeling me like this?”

“Yes.” She gasps when his fingers slip to her clit.

“You like it dirty, huh? You don’t like have vanilla sex.” He says into her ear, nipping at her lobe.

She moans out, unable to form an actual response. Once he gains a little more energy, he has her turn onto her stomach so he can fuck her properly from behind. He sits up on his knees, and starts pounding into her relentlessly.

“Oh my god!” She gasps. “Keep going, just like that!”

He grips the back of her neck with hand, and reaches around front to rub her clit with the other. He strokes are fast and deep, beating up her g-spot. She was chanting his name, and it was just egging him on more. He needed her to come again, and he needed her to come hard. As good as she felt, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do it again after this.

“Want you to soak my sheets.” He growls. “Come all over my cock, Amber.”

“M’close, m’close!” She cries out.

Everything feels overwhelming all at once, and she finally lets go. He comes inside her at the same time, and does soak his sheets. His cock is absolutely drenched. He collapses next to her on the bed. He sighs with relief when he feels his cock actually start to soften.

“I have a spare set in the linen closet.” He says to her, and she giggles.

“Don’t bother, that was just the first session.”

“Um…what?”

“That was just the first session. You’ll probably come two more times.”

“But, that other time I only came three times.”

“Yeah, and it hurt, right? Did these last few hurt?”

“Not at all. Felt amazing.”

“We could 69 for the next one. You’re really good at going down.” She bites her bottom lip.

“Wouldn’t mind feeling your mouth around my cock either.”

“Seems like you’re almost ready again.” She looks down at his hardening cock.

“Fuck, please, come sit on my face.”

“You don’t want me to clean up first?”

“You just licked my asshole, I’m not too concerned about tasting my own come while it drips out of you.”

Amber whimpers and scrambles her way to hover over his face, leaning down over his cock so she can lick over his tip. Harry immediately starts sucking on her swollen clit, making her gasp before she’s able to wrap her lips around him. They went at for hours, switching between a number of positions, making an absolute mess of Harry’s sheets. Amber realizes that Penny must have given them a combination of the strawberry tea and the chocolate tea; that’s a strong combination. They couldn’t get enough of each other, and instead of being upset with Penny’s antics, they decided to just roll with it. Harry ate out Amber’s ass, she rode him reverse, he hit it from the side, they were like animals. He had scratch marks all over his chest and back, she was littered in bite marks, by the time the tea wore off, they were exhausted. Neither had the energy to magically make the sheets clean, so Harry stripped the bed while Amber helped make it back up. They fell asleep curled up with another completely naked.

Opal woke up to an empty apartment, to which she laughed. She headed down the stairs to go see Penny, and let her know their sneakiness paid off. The only thing was, there was no sign of Penny. Opal couldn’t get a scent on her.

“Oh, no.” Opal says to herself, and goes upstairs to Harry’s apartment. She scratches at his door. “Amber!”

Amber sits up quickly in bed. She wraps herself in one of Harry’s blankets and sprints to the door, rattling Harry awake.

“Come back to bed.” He groans, but she doesn’t hear him.

Amber opens the door, and Opal rushes in.

“What’s going on?” Amber asks her frantically.

“I’m sure you’re tired, and rightfully pissed off, but Penny didn’t show up this morning. I don’t even have a scent on her.”

“Shit.” Amber groans. “This has Max written all over it. He probably bagged her on her walk here this morning. Why she doesn’t just live here, I’ll never know.”

“What’s going on?” Harry asks them.

“Penny’s missing, get dressed.” Amber says firmly before snapping herself and Opal upstairs.

Harry wanted to talk to Amber about everything they did last night, take her to breakfast like he said he would. But Penny was missing, so that meant their nightmare from the night prior wasn’t over. He gets himself dressed and down to the shop. Amber was already waiting downstairs with Opal.

“Where do you think they took her?” Harry asks.

“I have an idea.” Amber sighs. “He probably sent those damn shadows after her.”

“Penny’s so experienced, I don’t understand.” Harry shakes his head.

“She’s old, Harry.” Opal says. “She wouldn’t stand a chance alone.”

Amber’s eyes start glowing out of nowhere, and she starts hovering in the air. Just as soon as it happens, she’s back on the floor.

“I know where she is, she just sent me a signal.” Amber says.

“I know where she is, she just sent me a signal.” Amber says. “It’s essentially a trap, they know we’re coming for her.” She looks down at Opal. “Are you strong enough for this?”

“I’ll have to be. Let’s go get her.”

Amber snaps them to where they need to be. Mac had the shadows take her to an old, abandoned building on the outskirts of town. Amber brought them just down the hall from where Penny was being kept. Harry had so many questions, but he knew now wasn’t the time. He stays close to Amber and Opal, walking down a dark corridor.

“Harry, stay with Opal. I’m going on the room.”

“I can’t let you go in there alone.” He tells her.

“I wasn’t asking.” She says before snapping herself into the room. Penny was chained up to a wall. “For the love of god.” Amber sighs before snapping her free.

“Behind you!” Penny shouts, and Amber gets zapped by what looks like red electricity. She gets knocked to the ground, but picks herself back up. Max’s eyes were glowing red.

“I told you that you had no idea what you did.” He grins evilly at her. “Give me the dog, now.”

“It’s me you want, not her. You have me, okay? Just take me.”

“The thing is…” He walks towards her. “I don’t have you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t be serious.” He scoffs. “You wreak of that dolt’s scent, Amber. What did you do, go home and fuck him to celebrate? I found this one because she was wearing one of your sweaters, thought it was you.”

Amber looks back at Penny with wide eyes. She had to have known that Max was going to come for her. Penny set the tea up so Harry’s scent would mix with Amber’s, and make her hard to find. Penny essentially sacrificed herself.

“And to think I was mad at you.” Amber smiles softly at Penny.

“I’d never trick you on purpose.” Penny says.

“Blah, blah, blah.” Max rolls his eyes. “Either way, I’ve lured you here.”

“What do you even want from me? Do you think forcing me into a relationship is going to be much fun?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Max chuckles. “You think you’re such a prize, but you’re not. I’ve had women far better than you. This really is about Opal, so hand her over.”

“No.”

Amber’s hands glow, and she strikes a blow at Max. He blocks it and sends it back to her.

“Like the new powers? My friends gifted them to me.” He grins.

“Red’s never been your color, sorry to say.”

They both run towards each other to duke it out. Shadows start to crowd around Penny, and she tries to deflect them, but she needs help. Harry and Opal storm in to help her. Harry’s able to zap them away. He looks over at Max, and runs towards him, striking him with a powerful blow. Amber’s eyes widen as she watches Harry try to face off with Max.

“Amber, get Opal and Penny home, now!”

“Harry, I’m not leaving you!”

“Go!”

“Listen to your foolish boy, Amber, you won’t want to see this.” Max says as he strikes Harry.

Amber fights back tears as she snaps herself, Penny, and Opal out of there. She starts crying because she knows she doesn’t have the strength to snap back right away.

“If I lose him, I…I don’t know what I’ll do.” She cries. “I finally opened up to him, and I-“

“Don’t waste your energy on panicking.” Penny says. “I tried to stop him so you wouldn’t have to worry. I wanted to ward him off, I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault, it’s mine.” Opal says. “I was in the woods that night because I was following him. I had caught wind of dark magic usage, and my suspicions of it being him were true. I had no choice but to tell you.” She says to Amber.

Amber drops to her knees, and wraps her arms around Opal. Amber didn’t blame Opal for anything. This was all Max’s fault. She could feel herself getting angrier. She needed to know if Harry was alright.

“I have to get back to him. He can’t face Max on his own.” Amber looks up at Penny. “Do you think I’ll be able to do it?”

“You are the strongest girl I know. If anyone could muster up the energy to do this, it’s you. Don’t rely on the anger, rely on the love that feel for that boy.”

Amber wants to protest, but she couldn’t deny it. She loved Harry, a lot. She’d fallen for him, and she needed him to be okay. She takes a deep breath, and snaps herself back to where Harry is. She gasps once she’s back in that room. Harry was levitating Max in the air with his powerful green glow. He was holding Max in some sort of bubble.

“Harry!” Amber shouts.

“I’m okay! I don’t know how I’m doing this, but I’m okay!”

“Let me help!”

She blasts her blue glow up at Max, mixing with Harry’s. Max shouts this goulash sound, and a bright red light shines, filling the room. A loud explosion occurs, blasting Harry and Amber back. Max falls to the ground with a loud thud. Amber scrambles to her feet, and dusts herself off. Harry was totally knocked out. She wants to tend to him, but she has to make sure Max can’t do any more damage. She rushes over to him, and stands over him, nudging his body with her boot. His eyes flutter open, and he looks up at her.

“You’re so far gone.” She shakes her head. “You could have been such a wonderful mage, now look at you.”

“I’ve always envied you.” He says weakly. “You were given the best companion, one that could actually help you and bond with you. You’re one of the most powerful citrines out there. We could have been something together.”

“You ruined it. I feel nothing for you, absolutely nothing.”

“I can tell. Your heart belongs to that one.”

Amber steps on his chest, making him wince.

“And don’t you forget it. I showed mercy by taking your powers away. Walk away while you still can, or I won’t show you such kindness again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand.”

She rushes back over to Harry, and immediately snaps them back to the shop. He was still unconscious. Penny and Opal crowd around the two of them.

“Harry, please wake up.” Amber whispers to him. “I need you to be okay, please, I need you.” She cries into his chest.

“Amber.” Penny puts her hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Let’s get him up into your bed. You have some things in your kitchen we can whip up to help him.”

Amber nods, and Penny snaps them all upstairs. Amber gets Harry tucked into her bed. His breathing was steadily, and his blood pressure was normal. He used so much energy to keep Max at bay, he must be so drained, especially after the night they had. All he wanted to do was take her to breakfast, Amber hoped they’d get the chance. She goes into her kitchen with Penny while Opal stays curled up next to Harry.

“So, what are we making?” Amber sighs.

“Here, crush these mint leaves up, I’m making a watermelon tea, so I’m reducing some watermelon over the stove to make a syrup. We’ll use the mint leaves for the tea itself.”

“What will this do? He can’t drink this if he’s not awake.”

“He’ll need it for when he wakes up. It’ll be like an energy boost.”

“How do we wake him up?”

“We don’t. He needs to sleep whatever this is off. You’ll be there when he wakes. I’m sorry again about last night. When you told me what Max did, I knew he’d try to find you today. I just wanted to help, and-“

“I understand why you did it. It’s okay.” Amber smiles softly. “It could have been worse. Please, sleep here tonight in my guest room.”

“Alright.” Penny nods. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Once the tea is done, Amber brings it into her room, sets it down on the side table closest to Harry, and crawls into bed. It was only the early afternoon, but she felt sleep pulling her in. She succumbs to it, letting her eyes droop as she rests her head on Harry’s chest.

Hours later, she stirs awake when she feels the weight shift in the bed a bit. She looks over to see Harry knuckling at his eyes, and sitting up. He looks at her and smiles softly.

“Hey.” He says.

“How are you feeling?” She asks, reaching to caress his cheek.

“M’alright. I woke up a little while ago, Opal had me drink the tea you made. She’s downstairs with Penny running the shop. I fell back asleep after I drank some of the tea.” He presses a kiss to her palm, and she smiles. “How are you?”

“Better now.” She sighs. “I’m glad you’re awake, I was worried. We got blasted backwards after our magic combined. I don’t know how you were able to hold him off for as long as you did.”

“He…he was trying to egg me on. He was saying all of these awful things about you, but I remember reading it wasn’t good to harness anger to make yourself more powerful, so I just sort of thought about how I wanted to keep you safe, how I wanted Opal to stay safe because I knew that if anything happened to her you’d be devastated.”

“I was really worried about you.” Her voice cracks, and her eyes widen. “I thought he was going to try to kill you. I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t make it out of there.”

“Amber.” Harry cups her cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe her tears away. “I…I didn’t know you felt so strongly about me. We haven’t had a chance to talk about last night. I know we did a lot last night, and we had a bit more, um, gusto thanks to that tea, but everything I said to you last night I meant. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you too. I…I don’t want to know what it’s like to be without you. I was scared that I would. I know I pushed you away in the beginning, but I was fighting off something bigger than the two of us. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about someone before.” She looks down for a moment, and then back up at him. “I think…I think we were supposed to find each other, like, there was some sort of pull between us. I mean, there were plenty of other stores on this strip with vacant apartments, but you came into mine.”

“I always thought this stuff only happened in the books I’ve read, but it all sort of makes sense. I mean, I had no idea I was a mage, or whatever. Clearly, whatever this is inside of me was trying to bust out. And…amethysts are drawn to citrines, right?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” Amber smiles. “Usually, um, it’s a male citrine that goes for a female amethyst, not the other way around.”

“What about same sex couples?” He smirks.

“Same sex couples usually share the same gem, it’s rare if they don’t. I’m not sure what the science behind it is, you’d have to ask Penny.”

“Oh, is Penny…?”

“Mhm, she’s a widow, but her wife was the kindest woman. The two of them basically raised me.”

“What was her name?”

“Luna.” Amber smiles fondly. “They’re both garnets.”

“That’s really cool. I want to keep learning more about all of this; it’s so fascinating.”

“You’ll definitely learn more. I’ve got shelves upon shelves of books downstairs that you haven’t even touched yet.”

“Do you think I should tell my family about any of this?”

“God, no. Sometimes these things skip generations, they’d probably think you were nuts.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “We’ve digressed a bit, um, I feel really strongly about you.”

“I feel strongly about you too.”

“Like…I…I’m in love with you, Harry.”

“Oh, thank god.” He sighs with relief. “Feel like I fell in love with you from the second we met, but I’ve been trying really hard not to come on too strong. You’re not the biggest fan of romance.” He smirks.

“No, I’m not.” She leans in to peck his lips. “I’m the stoic one, and you’re the cinnamon roll.” She grins.

“Mm, your dirty talk is impeccable.” He rolls his eyes, and it makes her laugh.

“Let me continue. You’re the only one this stoic girl becomes soft for. You turn me into a little cinnamon roll, one of those really sweet ones with a ton of icing.”

Harry chuckles and leans in to kiss her. He sucks on her bottom lip, smiling into the kiss.

“Definitely sweet.” He mutters against her lips.

“We should probably get out of bed before we completely throw off our sleep schedules.”

“You’re right.” He sighs. “M’also starving. I don’t think I’ve eaten all day.”

“Same here.”

“I owe you a breakfast date.”

“It’s already past five, no restaurant would serve us breakfast right now.”

“Maybe not, but I’m sure I could whip something up. You got groceries?”

“Yeah, plenty of food in the kitchen.” She blinks. “You want to make us breakfast for dinner?”

“Mhm.” He kisses her again. “Do you like pancakes?”

“Love ‘em.” She nods.

“What about chocolate chip pancakes?”

“Those are my favorite.”

“Mine too.”

Turns out Harry made some of the best pancakes Amber ever had. After they ate, they went down to the shop to see how Opal and Penny were doing. Amber decided to close down early. Harry needed to finish up some homework, and make sure he had his lesson plans ready to go for tomorrow morning. It was weird getting back to reality, but it was a routine Amber was sort of craving. For so long their main focus was training to prepare for Max’s eventual strike. Amber couldn’t be certain that he wouldn’t try something again, but she looked him dead in the eyes when she threatened him. She saw fear, she could feel his fear. She wasn’t worried about him anymore, nor was she as worried about Opal. She could exhale for the first time in a while.

She had a new concern: Harry. Over the next couple of weeks, she wouldn’t let him sleep alone, which he didn’t mind one bit. Harry liked that Amber was being so affectionate towards him, he reveled in the attention. The kisses, the soft touches, the hugs, the smiles, everything Amber did, Harry loved. He couldn’t wait to finish up his office hours most days so he could get to the shop. Even though Amber had to work, Opal would still curl up at his feet, and Penny would drop off an extra biscotti at his table. Harry felt like he had formed this new little family. It made the little town he decided to call home actually start to feel like home. He even got to see how Amber made her many teas.

The only thing that wasn’t so great was that Harry’s student Whitney tended to keep him late, and Amber didn’t like it. She trusted Harry with her whole heart, but she didn’t quite like the idea of someone else thinking they could try to flirt with him. Whitney came into the shop all the time, Amber knew exactly who Whitney was. She was a senior, so not much younger than herself or Harry, but still, it wasn’t appropriate for a student to be so forward with her professor. So, much like with everything else, Amber took matters into her own hands.

One evening, Harry had made Amber a late dinner after she closed up the shop. After they ate, they made their way to his sofa. Harry thought they were going to just cuddle for a bit, but Amber had made her way into his lap, straddling him and running her fingers through his hair while she sucked on his neck. Normally, Harry would be more cautious about having a mark in such a public spot, but it was getting colder out, so he could wear a turtleneck or scarf to cover it up. He was also just enjoying her body on his too much to care. She was rolling her hips into his, and his hands were kneading her ass.

“What’s gotten into you tonight, huh?” He pants as her teeth really start to sink into his skin. “Not that I’m complaining.”

She pops off him with loud, wet noise, catching her breath as she looks at the red mark forming on his neck. She runs her thumb over it in hopes that it’ll turn a delightful dark purple.

“You just smell so good, you know your cologne drives me wild.” She says as she latches back onto his neck. He moans out as she nips at his skin. She rolls her hips down in a way that grins her center right over his bulge.

“Fuck, Amber, can we move this to the bedroom? M’about ready to explode here.” He groans, squeezing harder at the skin on her hips. She tugs his head more to the side to make the mark even bigger. “Can mark me up all over, yeah?”

“Mm, that sounds nice.” She mumbles into his neck, and kisses her way over to his lips. “Maybe we could take a quick shower, and I could lick you all over too.” She wiggles her eyebrows at him, and his eyes visibly darken.

“Should make you dinner more often.”

Harry was on cloud nine the next day at school. He couldn’t stop smiling even if he tried. Amber made good on her promise to lick him all over, especially where he liked it most. He liked that they both enjoyed a good tonguing, and he liked that they were so good at taking turns. He wasn’t even mad about how fucked up his neck looked. Harry knew what Amber was doing, she was clearly marking her territory, and he didn’t mind one bit. If he wasn’t into her dominant personality, he wouldn’t be with her. The sweater he was wearing covered up most of it anyways, and his students never seemed to hide the marks on their necks, so what was the big deal, really?

After he finishes his classes for the day, he heads to his office for his office hours. He dives into the papers he needed to grade. He assigned a ten-page paper for his fiction workshop, and now he was regretting it. He got about a third of the way through his stack when Whitney came to his office.

“Hi, Professor Styles.” She smiles.

“Hey, Whit.” He smiles back. “I’m actually glad you’re here, could use your help.”

“With what?”

“I have a ton of grades to put into a spreadsheet from my physical gradebook. Think you could do that for me?”

“Sure!”

Harry unhooks his laptop from the docking station so she could dive into the spreadsheet he started. Things were quiet for a bit, but she was having trouble reading his writing. Harry had horrible penmanship.

“Professor Styles, I can’t read this.” She says, getting up from her seat and walking over to him. She leans over him slightly, and points to some of his scribbles. “See, I can’t tell if that’s an 87 or an 81.” Her cleavage was practically spilling into his face. He was about to say something, but someone else beat him to it.

“Maybe you should get your eyes checked.” They both look up to see Amber leaning against the door frame.

“Hey!” Harry smiles brightly, and Whitney stands up straight. “Amber, this is Whitney, one of my students. Whitney, this is my girlfriend, Amber.”

“Girlfriend, oh…um…I didn’t realize you were seeing someone, Professor Styles.”

“Course you did, how else would he have gotten that mark on his neck.” Amber smirks. “Now, why don’t you do everyone a favor and put your tits away because he’s not going to suck on them, alright?”

“Amber.” Harry looked mortified.

Whitney looked frightened, and she was speechless. She quickly gathers her things and walks out of Harry’s office. Harry stands up and goes to close his door. He was upset, Amber could tell.

“What?” Amber asks.

“You can’t talk to one of my students like that!”

“Why not? She was practically shoving her tits in your face, and you were letting it happen.”

“I was about to tell her to back off, but then you showed up. Why are you even here?”

“I came to surprise you, but I can see I’m unwanted. Why was she even here?”

“She comes to help me most days after class. She was working on a spreadsheet for me. And you’re not unwanted, you just don’t come to see me here often. It would have been a nice surprise if you hadn’t come in guns hot.” He puts his hands on his hips and looks at her. “Are you seriously jealous?”

“I can’t help that I feel protective over you. I don’t like that other people think you could be theirs when you’re mine.”

“And to think you didn’t want anything to do with me just a few months ago.” He smirks.

“That joke stopped being funny after the first time you made it.” She rolls her eyes, and stops towards him. Harry was just under a foot taller than Amber, and yet she commanded every room she walked into. She grips the collar of his sweater and tugs him down to her face, her eyes glowing.

“You’re so sexy when you’re like this.” He wraps his arms around her, lifting her up and sitting her down on his desk. “But don’t think it gives you a pass for acting like that. You need to be nice. She’s one of your customers, remember? You’re nice all the time at the shop, why can’t be nice where I work?” He pouts.

“Because no one flirts with me at my place of business.”

“Oh, please.” He scoffs. “I’d be a very rich man if I had a dollar for every time I’ve caught someone checking you out.”

“That’s totally different. No one’s shoving a part of their body in my face.” She pouts back at him. “Why does someone so pretty have to be one of your frequent flyers?”

“Okay, let’s get something straight. The only tits I want shoved in my face are yours.” He plants his hands on either side of her thighs, getting nice and close to her face. “And even though Whitney might be pretty, no one could ever compare to how incredibly beautiful you are.”

He always knew exactly how to melt her heart. He leans in to kiss her, sucking on her bottom lip, and licking into her mouth. Her hands move up to his chest, tugging on his sweater to pull him closer. She wraps her legs around his waist, and slowly lowers herself back onto his desk. He follows her, helping her keep her legs around him.

“Wait.” She pants as he kisses down her neck. “Go lock your door.”

“Shit, you’re right.” He says, quickly going over to the door to lock it, and then going back to her. “This is going to hurt your back, do you wanna do it on my chair, on the loveseat?”

“I really want you on top.” She whines.

“Yeah? Want me to be in control right now?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s sit on the loveseat, even if you’re on top, I’ll thrust up into you.” He kisses her. “I’ll rub your clit.” He kisses her again. “Suck on your glorious tits.”

“Fuck, okay, just get my clothes off.” She huffs.

He picks her up, and undoes her jeans quickly. He tugs them down, along with her underwear. Harry drops his own pants and rips his sweater off. Amber gets her jacket off and wraps her arms around his neck. Harry tugs her back to the loveseat, turning her around so she’ll sit on him reverse. He pumps his cock a few times before lining himself up with her. Her jeans were around her ankles since she didn’t bother to take her boots off, so things felt a little tighter than usual; neither of them were complaining.

He bites down on her shoulder, and her head rolls back into his chest. His hands grip Amber’s hips, and he starts thrusting up into her. They needed to be quick and quiet, so he takes one of his hands and it brings it up to her mouth so she could suck on his fingers. Her eyes roll back as she sucks on his digits. His other hand slips between her thighs so his fingers could work her clit. She moans around his fingers from the sheer pleasure. His tip was pummeling her g-spot, and his fingers were working magic – excuse the pun. His palm was pressing into her bladder, and she was starting to panic. She didn’t want to make a mess of his loveseat.

“Can feel you squeezing around me.” He says into her hear, nipping at her lobe.

“H-Harry, I-“ She mumbles around his fingers.

“Hm? What’s the matter, gonna make a mess?”

“Mhm.” She whines.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” He stops all motions immediately, and lifts her off of him.

“What the hell are you doing?!” She asks as he grabs a tissue to come into.

“You said you wanted me in control.” He says as he pulls his pants back up. “Can’t have you squirting all over my office. I’ll take care of you when I finish work for the day.” He smiles and kisses her forehead.

“Harry, this isn’t funny.”

“M’not trying to be, Babe.” He helps her pull her own pants back up. “I have a lot to do, and since you sent my little worker bee away, I may be here a little later than usual. I’ll come to your place when I’m done.”

“You’re sure you wanna play this game with me?” She asks as she puts her jacket back on. “I don’t think you’re prepared for what you’re coming home to by denying me of an orgasm.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He smirks. “I can’t have you thinking you deserve a reward for acting up in my office.” He pecks her lips and opens his door. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

She narrows her eyes at him, looks him up and down, and nods.

“Okay.”

Harry felt a chill run through him as she left. Maybe he should have let her come.

Harry wasn’t kidding when he said he had a lot of work to do. He didn’t get home until after the shop closed. He drops his things off in his apartment before going up to Amber’s. She was sitting on her couch watching TV when he came in.

“Hey, Baby, sorry I’m back so late. Where’s Opal?”

“Staying with Penny tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Told her we needed some alone time.” She stands up and walks over to him, giving him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“Huh.” He swallows. “Well, we’re alone now.” He puts his hands on her hips. “Did you, uh, take care of yourself at all?”

“I’ll admit, I almost did just to spite you, but I thought it would ruin the fun.” She slides her hands up his chest. “That being said, I’m not quite in the mood for you to be so in control anymore.”

“What a relief.” He sighs. “M’exhausted, I don’t think I could keep up the façade of being so in charge right now.” He pouts at her and she giggles.

“You made a very good point earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to your student like that. Bring some coupons with you tomorrow to give her as an apology, but make no mistake, if she keeps hitting on you I will not hesitate to fuck her up.”

“I can live with that. She’ll only be my student for another month or so.” He presses his forehead to hers. “So, what would like to do instead of playing games tonight?”

“I’d very much appreciate it if you ate me out for a bit. You denied me of what would have been a rather powerful orgasm and I think you should make up for it.”

“Fair enough. Then will you go back to bouncing on my cock the way you were? Felt so nice.”

She nods, and takes his hand to lead him to the bedroom. She takes her night shirt off, revealing her naked body to him.

“You’re wicked.” He grins. “Lounging around with that glorious bum of yours out for anyone to see.”

“Good thing I was home alone.” She grins, and gets onto the bed, spreading her legs open for him. She snaps her fingers to light the candles in the room.

Harry rids himself of his clothes, and knees onto the bed. He kisses on her belly, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as he makes his way between her thighs. He hooks his arms around her thighs and dives in. He sucks on her clit immediately, making her moan out. She cards her fingers through his hair as he eats her like he hasn’t eaten in days. The noises he makes as he sucks and licks on her are filthy, and they only spur Amber on more with her moans and whimpers.

“Oh my god, Harry.” She whimpers. “You’re so fucking good, Baby, so fucking good.” She was near tears. His tongue was so wet and warm, fucking in and out of her. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, Harry!” She comes hard on his tongue, and he laps it up, moaning at how good she tastes.

“Fucking hell.” He breathes when he sits up. “Do you want me to give you another this way?”

“God, you’re insatiable.” She groans. “Please, I need you inside me now.”

Harry sits up against the headboard, and Amber sits on him reverse she like had earlier in the day. This time they could both be as loud as they wanted, and this time Harry could grope freely at her breasts. She uses her knees to move up and down on him. She was moving fast, wanting him to fill her up. He uses one of his hands to rub circles into her clit.

“Amber.” He moans into her ear, thrusting up into her. “You’re so fucking wet for me, feels amazing.”

“Only ever want your cock, no one else’s.” She had never said anything like that to him before. “Don’t want anyone else ever again.”

“Fuck, I don’t want anyone else either. M’all yours.”

“Yes!” She gasps as she comes around him. He follows right after, filling her up. “Yes.” She whispers.

“Are you all mine?” He whispers into her ear before kissing on her cheek and shoulder.

“Mhm.” She relaxes into him, and looks up his face, admiring his features. “You’re all I want.”

“You’re all I want too. I’m so glad we found one another.” He wraps his arms tightly around her.

“So am I.” She sighs happily.

Eventually, she gets off of him, and they both clean themselves up before getting into bed. Harry tells Amber about his classes and coursework, and she tells him about some of the funny customers that came in that day. They lay there giggling and chatting, just enjoying each other’s company.

“Harry?” She asks as she traces over his tattoos with her finger tips.

“Hm? What is it, my love?”

“You mean the world to me, I hope you know that.” She snuggles into his chest. “Jealousy is quite ugly, but when I love, I love hard. It’s just who I am.”

“I’m so honored that you’ve welcomed me into your small circle. I see the way you are with Opal and Penny, the love you have for them radiates off you. I can feel what you feel for me.”

“And I can feel what you feel for me.”

“We’re connected.” He says, and kisses the top of her head.

“We are.” She nods. “And it feels wonderful.”

#something wicked #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles x oc #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #professor!harry #mage!harry

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florenceandthemachine · 4 years

Text

hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

“He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hale family #teen wolf fic #fake dating #everyone lives #two halves of a whole idiot #this is actually my first sterek fic ever lmao HOW WILD

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owlespresso · 5 years

Text

Tremble, Duck & Weave / 2

Also on my ao3, which can be found HERE.

Urianger hath read his fair share of fantastical prose—legends and stories that flaunt the true meanings of love, dramas that speak of star-crossed paramours and the bonds that gyve them. He hath combed through texts, rigorously reached the span of human emotion.

He was not wont to believe in such far fetched tales, with their extravagant exaggerations and reliance on worn tropes.

At least, till this very moment.

His wiry fingers trembled as they pressed cotton to thy bloodstained skin, clearing the refuse away from thy most immaculate form. Never before had he witnessed such incredible majesty. Thou art an incredible creation, as though Halone had sculpted thee with all the motherly love in the world, her very image.

His traitorous heart thumped in his chest like the frantic beating of a bird’s clipped wings against its cage. When the lord commander besought him unto thyside, he had expected to do nothing more than see to thy wounds—but this feeling—he felt as though he had been striped across the face.

He knew thy name—was well aware of thy exploits, but now he found himself seized by the need to know everything about you. The fresh, morning sun streamed in through the wide, steep window, shedding light unto thy glorious, bruised, beaten form.

He loved thee, he realized, utterly stricken. Despite having never heard a blessed word from thy lips, despite having never been fortunate enough to encounter thee before.

Why? How?

“The reports we’ve received thus far indicate that there was an ambush at the Ul’dahn banquet. The sultana was most regrettably poisoned, the blame cast onto the Warrior,” the lord commander loomed by the door, a towering presence despite the distance between them.

“That is incredibly unfortunate, given our current position,” Urianger could scarcely manage to work, admire thine sleeping face and pay attention to Aymeric’s incessant commentary all at the same time.

Thou art ethereal, limelit so extravagantly, mottled with the sweetest of crimsons and purples, a canvas covered in burgeoning blooms. His nimble fingers wrought tirelessly, laying antiseptics, salves and only the finest of Ishgardian-spun gauze athwart thy skin. His hands began to emit a pale, viridescent glow, sanative energy flowing into thy body. Thy injuries began to mend, skin sewing back together.

Whilst relieved to know thou wert well on the way to recovery, he could not help but grieve for the red sheen. There was no doubt that thou hadst utterly gorgonized him, snatched his heart free from his chest.

“They will be hale and hearty within the next sennight.”

“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Urianger,” Aymeric said, “We are most fortunate to have your talents at our disposal,” the door to the office nudged open, the lord commander calling a few, brief orders to the guards abreast the entrance. It all fell into background noise, flimsy and frail in comparison to thee.

Shame flushed his chilled skin as his fingers trender brushed across thine cheek, fervent heat shooting up his spine. He hovered twixt guilt and satisfaction, the conflict brewing threatening to overbrim his frail, mortal disposition.

What kind of man was he? To fall so deeply into infatuation with someone so bloodied at first sight? He retracted his touches as though scalded at the sound of footsteps hurrying in their direction. He felt as though a nitling, a blundering, repulsive fool.

Had he found pleasure in thy vulnerability? The thought nearly topped him as he stumbled from his stool. This was wrong, surely. Perhaps a sudden sickness had planted itself in his weary mind, his resistances weak after endless nights of sleepless study.

The guards strolled into the study, prepared to steal thee away. He hadst anticipated this, aye, but was woefully unprepared for the grief that shook him at the prospect. Thou wouldst only be down the corridor, but a desperate desire to remain as close as humanly possible to thee shook him to his very foundation, causing cold sweet to erupt across his clammy skin.

“I shall endeavor to make room in mine schedule for a visit before the day’s end. Her aether is severely depleted. Twould be wise to ensure the alchemists prepare a tincture to restore her supply,” the words felt like—no, they were sin on his lips, lies manifested as a poor excuse to once again behold thine godly visage.

Is this what infatuation does to good men? Turns them from honest denizens to scheming miscreants?

“I’ll see to it immediately and have it delivered to you post-haste,” Aymeric’s full lips curled into a fond smile, “I’m entrusting her care to you for the foreseeable future, Urianger. Ensure she receives a warm, hospitable welcome. We have use for her talents,” his vibrant gaze swept over the room, before returning to the astrologian.

Ah. The lord commander intended to use thee for his own purposes. As repulsed as any other man might have been, Urianger could not find fault with that plan.

It ensured that you would remain within the city’s walls and—oh heavens, what hath he become?

He strode over to the shelves at the back of the office, beginning to sort through potions and elixirs and medical supplies left long in disarray.

“Of course. Thou canst dependth on me, lord commander,” he set about reorganizing the cluttering of bottles on the top shelf first, carefully categorizing each one by use. It had been shamefully long since he had last house kept, and it currently served as a flawless excuse to not look the other man in the eyes.

Had de Borel seen the way in which he caressed thee? His stomach dropped at the thought.

“As much as I would like to stay and chat, I’m afraid I am needed elsewhere. Everywhere, perhaps. Thordan has left quite the workload for me,” the lord commander gave a laugh most hollow. The creak of the door signified the beginning of his departure.

Urianger’s hands trembled as he separated the Elixirs and Potions, Potions of various effects and caliber and color. He grimaces as he beholds the layer of dust that’s settled on every shelf.

“Farewell and best of luck to thee,” Urianger said.

The door clicked shut, the noise a lonely echo down the hall.

He listened keenly as the lord commander’s footsteps grew quieter and quieter. His pulse thudded in his ears, stomach in his throat. Only when silence reigned true did he press his back to the wall and slide to the polished wooden floor, cradling his head in his hands. It felt as though his world had stopped spinning on its axis, as though the poles had been knocked free from their fixed position, the glove spinning freely through the universe.

“Oh heavens above,” he moaned, begged as he tilted his head back, staring up at the domed ceiling, “What curse hath been cast upon my weary soul?”

------

Estinien has always seen it. The red that lines and freely runs through the streets—he sees it, even if the idle citizenry can’t.

Perhaps it’s the doing of Nidhogg’s eye which has long rested in the cavity of his chest, replacing the human crimson of his blood with black, draconic ichor. Perhaps it's several generations of Midgardsormer’s spawn showing him what they see when they gaze upon Ishgard’s mighty towers. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care to find out. The young fool he had been during his days at the academy would balk at the sight of him now.

The crimson horns arch from his skull, the skin of his arms dyed inky black, patches of smooth scale decorating his body. The glamors hide it from everyone besides himself, a cruel reminder of what he is and what he once was.

“I think they’re amazing,” that gaudy fool, that Fortemps bastard, said to him once, face swollen in a gawsy grin.

His fingers curl around the frigid steel of his lance. The high winds batter him atop his perch, a small, domed ledge jutting from one of the city’s tallest towers. The inky blacks and reds of his armor would stand out stark from the dull Ishgardian masonry.

Across from him, a statue of Halone nestles between the other intricate stoneworks, her expression twisted with desperation, a feeble hand outstretched in his direction.

How ironic.

Her face begins to shift the longer he looks at her. The soft, anguished lines of her brows furrow downwards, into a judgmental scowl, her lips open around words he cannot hear. But he knows she slings vile venom in his direction. He knows she is denouncing him, disowning him, spitting bile as tears of crimson bead at the corners of her eyes, rolling down her cheeks gone gaunt, dripping onto the street below.

A sudden wave of nausea mixed with rage knocks his gaze away, drifting below and to the side. It’s a fight to keep himself from snarling because his veins pulse with rage at his own hallucination and he knows the beast that lives inside him knows he does not belong here. It throws childish fantods everytime he rears a house of worship, makes the simple task of existing in Ishgard take herculean effort.

His numb gaze continues to travel along the wall across from him until it stops on a window, the blinds parted just enough for him to peer inside.

A familiar form hunches over an occupied bed. Urianger’s black robe dips low, giving Estinien’s keen gaze can make out each toned muscle and fine curve of the astrologian’s back. He’s tending to someone. The Warrior of Light, he realizes near immediately. Aymeric made a point to mention it that very morning. She had been severely injured, shuttled off into Urianger’s care as soon as she arrived.

An investment, Estinien understood, a weapon Aymeric hoped to use in the name of Ishgard. After all, who wouldn’t want the vaunted Warrior of Light at their disposal? It’s cruel, he understands well, to think of a fellow, sentient being in such a manner, but that is the cold reality in which they live.

But the way in which Urianger handles her is far from cold and clinical. The astrologian’s long fingers brush tenderly across the warrior’s cheek, the tenderness in his eyes reaching beyond mere professionalism. It’s an expression he’s never witnessed on the other man’s usually severe expression.

At that very moment, Estinien realizes he’s a voyeur, a miscreant witnessing a sclipism by one of Ishgard’s most renowned healers.

The beast inside of him gives an interested, low croon at the pure sin of it.

His blood pumps hot and rhapsodic in his veins, taking in the other man’s broad shoulders, imagining the downy softness of his hair. He imagines the shred of pale flesh underneath his sharpened claws, savors the vision of his teeth sinking into a slender neck.

No!

The man in him snarls. He crouches, leaps from his perch in a desperate bid to flee from the wretched pile of sin the monster created.

The streets are still dyed red, clumps of flesh and organs and scales, but no one else sees it.

#urianger #urianger augurelt #estinien #estinien wyrmblood #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #fanfiction #writing #oz write

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years

Text

Merry Christmas, @will-noble-owns-my-ass!

Merry Sterekmas and a Happy New Year!!

Read on AO3

*****

The Mate Fairy

When a young werewolf turns 18, a person dubbed “the Mate Fairy” appears to give the birthday wolf a letter containing the name of their eternal love, their mate.

This “fairy” is usually the emissary of the pack. A letter appears in the emissary’s mailbox, and they are tasked to immediately deliver the letter to the intended werewolf.

Talia Hale received her letter from her mother’s emissary May Deaton at 11.30 am on a Saturday morning. Talia was painting her toenails on the front porch of the Hale House when May approached with the letter containing her mate’s name, Samuel Cahill. The gold script gleamed in the sunlight, shining into Talia’s eyes. Recapping the nail polish, she yells out to her mother that she’s going out to catch her mate, and to set another place at the lunch table.

When Talia’s firstborn turned 18, they were in the cereal aisle of the local grocery store arguing over Cheerios when Laura was handed her letter from Alan Deaton. The name Jordan Parrish in beautiful gold script shining in stark contrast to the pure white paper. Dropping a box of Fruit Loops in her mother’s trolley, she high-tailed it out of the grocery store whooping and hollering while other shoppers laughed.

Scott McCall was in the shower getting ready for his 18th birthday party when Deaton knocked on the front door. His mom Melissa let Alan in, offering him a cup of herbal tea while they waited for her son. Strolling down the stairs Scott almost tripped on the final two steps upon seeing the “Mate Fairy” waiting with his envelope. After frantically ripping the envelope, he pulls out the paper and gasps upon seeing Isaac Lahey in the infamous gold script. Folding it gently and placing it in his pocket, Scott races off to his party to sweep Isaac off his feet.

The night before his 18th birthday, Derek Hale sits staring into the fireplace. Tomorrow he finds out who his mate is. He’s both excited and terrified. What if his mate isn’t who he wants it to be? What if he rips open the envelope and sees the name Mabel Earnest, the 90-year-old lady who lives on the corner of Thompson and Third, that likes to give embroidered dishtowels at Halloween? What if he opens the envelope and sees Marcus Winbourne, the owner of the town florist who smells like moss and feet?

Derek looks forlornly at the flames and tries not to panic. What if Alan shows up at school? Maybe Derek can beg his mom to stay home tomorrow. What if Alan shows up at the school and Derek has successfully convinced his mom to stay home and he misses him? What if Alan doesn’t show up?

“We can hear your brain whirling from the kitchen, pup”, Uncle Peter says as he slides into one of the high-back chairs. “Don’t overthink this. It’s an exciting time for you. Only you would think of all the what-ifs. There is no need to be over-emotional about this.”

Derek turns to face his uncle, eyes narrowing in contempt. “I distinctly remember mom telling us the story of your 18th birthday where you were found sobbing in the bathtub because you didn’t think there was anyone worthy of you. She said and I quote, ‘Peter was blubbering because he was worried his lofty standards of a mate weren’t going to be met, and he was worried his greatness wouldn’t be fully realised.’”

Peter scoffs. “That’s a highly dramatic retelling of what actually happened.”

Samuel Hale comes in laughing. “No Peter, that’s almost word for word what you said. Nice try though.”

Samuel sits down on the sofa. “Bun, if anyone deserves an amazing mate it’s you. You have a heart of gold, you are kind, thoughtful, and gracious. Everyone can count on you. It’s why you’re slated to be Laura’s second. Your mate will balance you out. They’ll support you in your role. They’ll build you up. And they’ll give you all the love you deserve. Please don’t fret my son, you will be blessed tomorrow, I promise you.”

Tala glides into the room. “Your father is right Derek. Tomorrow is a day for celebration! Not just you turning 18, but you finding your other half. Our ancestors aren’t going to give you someone that isn’t 100% your match. That’s not how it works.”

“I know mom. I’m just nervous.”

Peter leans forward and runs his hand down Derek’s shoulder, pausing to give it a squeeze.

“Pup, I know you’ve been waiting for your mate for a long time but your mom is right. Our ancestors guide us to the one who completes us in every way. Just like Sam completes Talia, and Aunt Lisa completes me. We each have our foibles, but our mate smooths them out. This is a time for pure joy and celebration. You have nothing to worry about.”

Peter gets up from the chair ruffling Derek’s hair before leaving the room.

Derek sighs as Talia and Samuel come to sit on either side of their son.

Turning to his mom Derek asks softly, “What if they don’t want to be my mate?”

“Oh, honey that doesn’t happen. You know this. I understand you are worried, I really do, but werewolf mates are a certainty.”

“Any chance I can stay home tomorrow?”

“Nope. Sorry bun. It will be ok, I promise.” Talia leans forward and kisses Derek on the forehead.

“Your mom’s right. Everything will be ok. And we’ll set a place at the table for your mate tomorrow night, just like grandma did for me. Ok?”

“Ok, dad. Thanks, mom.” Derek smiles as his parents get up from the floor. The smile stays as they walk away, the nerves blossoming into hope.

*****

Stiles Stilinski sits at the breakfast table, right leg fidgeting under the table. One particularly strong jerk knocks the table sending orange juice cascading over the side of his glass. Stiles gets up quickly to grab paper towel, while his dad John holds up the morning paper away from the spill, stopping it from being soaked with juice.

Mopping up the liquid as best he can, Stiles grabs a damp cloth to wipe away the stickiness of the juice, while his dad watches him. His mom Claudia places down their plates, piled high with breakfasty goodness. Eyeing her son speculatively, she smiles. “What has you in a tizzy this morning Mischief?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about mom.”

The Sheriff sighs. “Really Stiles? You’re twitchier than normal. Do you forget your adderall this morning?”

Stiles shakes his head. “No, I remembered.”

John puts his paper down. “So what’s up?”

Stiles slumps in his chair. “It’s Derek’s birthday today.”

Claudia reaches forward and takes one of her son’s hands in hers. “Oh Mischief. There’s no need to worry. Derek will have the perfect outcome. You know that.”

Tears begin to form in Stiles’ eyes as he looks at his mother. “But what if his mate isn’t me?”

John places his hand on top of his wife’s. “Stiles, there’s always a chance that you aren’t his mate, but honestly? Everyone sees the way you two look at each other. Everyone knows how close you are. You are mates in every way except officially. Now I’m not as knowledgeable with werewolf culture as your mother is, but Stiles, the Hale ancestors know what they are doing. They see all. They would see how well you two fit together before the official mating. They would see how it is after.”

“That still doesn’t mean it’s me, dad.”

“What if it isn’t you? Are you going to stop being friends with Derek? Are you going to stop associating with the Hales? Are you going to tell Laura that you aren’t going to be her emissary?”

“No, dad! Of course not. But …”

“No buts Stiles. You go to school today, and you support Derek in any way you can. You know he’s a sensitive soul, so you go and stand by him and you make sure he knows that you have his back 100%.”

“Yes, dad.”

“Good. Now eat your bacon before I do.”

*****

In the carpark of the school, Claudia pulls up in the kiss and ride to drop off Stiles.

“Remember that today is about Derek, Mischief. Be supportive no matter what, and remember that no matter what your father and I are here for you.”

“I will mom, I promise.”

Giving his mom a quick kiss on the cheek Stiles exits the Jeep, patting his bag to make sure his two gifts for Derek are still in there. Confirming that they are still there after checking 5 minutes earlier, he shoulders his backpack and makes his way into the school.

As Stiles approaches his locker he sees Derek standing nearby surrounded by all their friends. He can hear the happy birthdays and the claps on the back as he gets closer, his nerves beginning to rise.

He opens his locker and puts the books in he doesn’t need yet, and pulls out the first gift for Derek. The crowd around the birthday wolf has lessened, leaving plenty of room for Stiles.

As Derek turns to Stiles, Stiles jumps on Derek with a laugh and a loud, “Happy birthday big guy!” wrapping his arms around the wolf in a massive hug.

Derek turns his nose into Stiles’ neck and hugs his friend back, letting the scent of Stiles fill him with warmth. When they part, Stiles gives Derek his gift. “Open it! Open it!”

Derek tilts his head in confusion. “My party is on Saturday Stiles, didn’t you want me to open it then?”

“Nope! This is for your ACTUAL birthday. I have another gift for your party too”.

“You didn’t have to do that Stiles.”

“Uh, yeah I did. Anyways, open it!”

Derek rolls his eyes and carefully peels back the wrapping paper making sure not to rip it. The paper reveals an old book titled, “An Alpha and Their Second: a Guide to Leading the Pack”.

“Holy shit Stiles where did you find this?”

“You like it? It’s ok?”

Derek nods quickly. “YES. Oh my god, Stiles. Mom and Peter had this book when mom became Alpha, but it went missing. They both swore by this book. I’ve wanted to read this for years!! Where did you find it?”

Stiles blushes. “I asked my babcia if she knew where to find a copy. A pack in Poland had a few spare copies and owed babcia a favor, and voila! Happy birthday, Der.”

“Thank you so much, Stiles! This is amazing!” Derek sweeps Stiles into another hug just as the bell goes for the first period.

Stiles pulls away first. “Sorry Der I have Harris and I don’t want detention. I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yep! See you then!!”

Derek watches as Stiles races down the hallway and disappears around the corner. He runs a hand down the front of the book and takes a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check. This book is one that’s handed down through the family over generations. The loss of the Hales book was one that brought frustration and sorrow, and to have one back is going to mean the world of difference to the Hale family, and to Laura as the future Hale Alpha.

As Derek gently puts the book into his bag, he wonders if Stiles knows how big of a deal gifting this book is.

*****

The Hale Betas and friends are sitting around the lunch table. Scott and Isaac and hunched together talking quietly, hands entwined under the table.

Jackson and Lydia and discussing the party on Saturday, arguing over what Jackson will be wearing while Allison and Cora are laughing at them. Erica is sitting on Boyd’s lap laughing along with Allison and Cora, while Boyd rests his head on Erica’s shoulder.

Derek and Stiles are arguing about whether Die Hard is a Christmas movie when the cafeteria goes deathly quiet. Derek’s eyes snap up immediately to Stiles’ so he sees when the color drains from Stiles’ face.

Derek manages a whispered “Stiles …” before footfalls can be heard getting closer to their table. Pulling his eyes away from Stiles’ Derek turns to see Alan Deaton holding an envelope.

Deaton stops at the table. “Mr Hale.”

Derek stands. “Hello, Mr Deaton.”

“It is my honor as the emissary of Talia Hale, protector of the Hale pack, to give to you the name of your beloved mate. The one who will cherish you above all. The one who will support you until the end. Derek Hale, Happy Birthday, and congratulations.”

Deaton hands over the envelope to Derek who takes it with shaky hands. His heart is beating so loud it drowns out the sound of Deaton walking away. The cafeteria remains silent.

Sliding a finger into the side of the envelope, Derek slowly separates the top flap from the rest of the envelope.

He pulls the paper from the envelope and looks in shock at the gold script.

The tears that had begun to pool in his eyes start to escape, and he takes a shuddering breath. Derek looks at Stiles whose face is pale and filled with worry.

Derek hands over the page to Stiles.

Mieczyslaw Stilinski

Stiles bursts into tears and throws himself at Derek who once again catches him. The cafeteria erupts in cheers as Stiles holds up the letter and yells, “I FUCKING KNEW IT WAS ME!!”

Derek laughs through his tears at Stiles and leans forward to kiss his mate gently on the lips.

“I’m so glad it’s you, Stiles.”

“I’m so glad it’s me too. Let me down I have another gift for you.”

As Derek lets Stiles down, he throws his confused puppy look. “I thought you said you were giving me the gift on Saturday?”

“I am but that’s a different gift. This gift is from your mate.”

Derek’s smile lights up his face as he hears Stiles call himself Derek’s mate. He takes the gift but this time rips the paper off, sending gift wrap fluttering to the ground.

Inside is a photo frame with a picture of 5-year-old Derek, and 4-year-old Stiles. They stand by the pool at the Hale house with their arms around each other, smiles as bright as the sun. Stiles is looking directly at the camera and Derek? Derek is looking directly at Stiles.

The photo is framed with the words “This is when I knew, that it was you.”

Derek sighs in happiness. “This is when I knew too. That summer was when I had realised that I just couldn’t be without you. I didn’t know what it meant then, but I realized only a few years back what it could mean. I wanted to say something but I was scared I was wrong.”

Stiles cups Derek’s cheek. “I know Derek, I understand. Every time I looked at you I knew you were the one. My spark reacts to you more than it does my future Alpha. My heart soars when you smile my way. I’m going to woo the fuck out of you, and make you so damn proud.”

“You already do Stiles. But you don’t need to woo me. I’m a sure thing.”

Stiles laughs loudly. “But I WANT to woo you Der. You deserve to be wooed.”

*****

Stiles Phone

Text sent 1.30 pm - Mama and Daddio

Hey Mom, Dad, won’t be home tonight because I have to have dinner with my MATE!!! It was me! I’m Derek’s mate! I’m so happy I’m still crying but it’s ok because Derek’s still crying, and I’m so happy right now. I freaking LOVE the Mate Fairy! Even if it’s Deaton. Ew.

Text sent 1.32 pm

I’M SO HAPPY!!!

Text received 1.45 pm - Mama

This is the best news Mischief! Please ask Derek to come to dinner on Sunday night.

Text received 2.37 pm - Daddio

I’m proud of you kid. Derek couldn’t ask for a better mate, and neither could you.

*****

Derek’s Phone

Text sent 1.31 pm - Mom and Dad

IT’S HIM

Text received 1.35 pm - Mom

Oh Bun I’m so happy for you! Uncle Peter and I will be making yours and Stiles’ favorite meal in celebration. This is the best news honey!

Text received 1.36 pm - Dad

A great match! Almost as great as your mother and I :) <3

Text received 2.22 pm - Laura Stink Butt

I freaking told you brat!! I knew it would be him! But noooooo don’t believe your future Alpha.

Text received 2.24 pm - Laura Stink Butt

All jokes aside, this is the best news and I’m really stoked he’s yours Bunny.

*****

Later that evening after a meal that consisted of lasagne, schnitzels, and curly fries, plus and entire table dedicated to dessert, Derek and Stiles are lounging on the outdoor swing sofa. Stiles is nestled against Derek’s chest, while Derek has his arms wrapped around his mate. Stiles runs the tips of his fingers up and down Derek’s arms, swirling around the palm of his hands.

While Derek has his nose buried in Stiles’ hair, Stiles sighs. “I’m so happy Der. I’m just so stupidly, blissfully happy.”

Derek rumbles in agreement. Stiles turns around to look at his wolf. “Gone non verbal on me?”

Derek shakes his head. “I’m just enjoying the moment. Our scents together is really calming for me.”

“Are you happy?”

Derek smiles. “Stiles. I’m blown away. I was so worried it wasn’t going to be you. I’m relieved more than everything. But yes, I’m happy.”

Stiles leans forward and kisses Derek. They lose themselves in the kiss, the swinging sofa swaying gently. They break apart slowly, Derek quickly kissing Stiles on the nose.

“Is it too early to say I love you?”

Stiles smiles gently. “I love you too Der.”

#will-noble-owns-my-ass #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

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jenovahh · 5 years

Text

KYKM - 14 Months, 26 Days

He feels rested.

Which is strange, considering how little rest he truly needs. His body feels relaxed and at ease, not plagued by exhaustion or pain. You had healed him swiftly with the aid of Y’shtola, his wound sealing up quickly and with hardly a scar, not that he would’ve minded. It is rare someone of his prowess ever attains one, and to see the marred skin is strange and exciting in a way that is almost childish.

It is also warm.

The sun peeking in from the window warms his creamy skin, shines on fine strands of his golden hair. Birds are chirping outside, the sounds of the city rise up through the window, festivities continuing in celebration of the unending Light being purged. He idly runs his eyes across the many features of your room, having little else to do.

After all, you refuse to release him.

Your nude form is firmly tucked against his own, hidden underneath the blankets of the bed you two share. You arms are wrapped around his torso as best as possible, your face nuzzled into his neck, your strong legs tangled with his own. He has been awake for at least a bell, but given your recent trials, he saw fit to let you wake when you were ready.

You were welcomed back to the Crystarium with cheers and ale, the sound of celebration ringing everywhere within the city. He was not one to socialize amongst the common folk (or much at all), but he let you receive your thanks and declarations of gratitude from the seemingly unending denizens of the Crystarium. Contentment filled him as you finally let go; enjoyed yourself as you danced with the twins, engaged in merriment with the Scions. It took everyone’s mind off the unsure future ahead, knowing that one unsundered Ascian remained.

Once you had your fill, your eyes met his in a way so fiery that anyone else would have been floored by it’s intensity. The way you so casually strolled up to him betrayed nothing of your intentions; intentions he was unsure of even as you took his hand in yours and led him back to your rooms and pressed him against a wall. He had forgotten how demanding you could be when you were taken over by desire, but he was not wont to deny you as you pressed your lips to his own and his arms brought you flush against him.

For bells did he worship your body much like a beastman to his savage god, finally able to slake his lust as he filled you with everything he had. No ilm of skin went untouched or unmarked, until he saw you claimed fully by him and him alone. Once again, the rightness of it all threatened to undo him; of how well you fit into his arms as he plunged deep within your core, his hands on your hips, his name falling from your lips so sweetly. He took his pleasure and gave as much in return, unhappy until the only words that fell from your lips were cries of his name.

Sighing, he contents himself with running his fingers across your skin, taking note of it’s softness, noticing the marks of bruises forming. You have slept deeply, practically dead to the world as you trusted in his ability to protect you.

Such responsibility you place on him.

He considers himself up to the task.

“I will never get used to this...”

Thancred's words reach him, from even outside the door. Zenos arches an eyebrow as they enter the Ocular, his form tall and imposing compared to the smaller statures of the Scions. When you had arrived, it was hand in hand, not at all ashamed of displaying your togetherness.

The Crystal Exarch politely coughs to gather everyone’s attention, his cowl now back in place. “Well then. While we have an unexpected addition, full glad am I to see everyone hale and whole after last night’s festivities.” He begins, fingers tapping lightly on his staff. “Warrior of Light?”

He watches as your eyes turn to the Exarch, giving him a stunning smile. “Yes, G’raha Tia?” You reply, giggling as the smaller man seems to freeze for a moment. Eventually the Exarch chuckles a bit himself, crystalline hand reaching for his cowl to tug it backwards, revealing his ruby red hair, tinted with silver.

“Thank you.” He beams, red eyes sparkling. “You have all done wonderfully. While saying this might sour the mood, I believe the Warrior should return to Eorzea, to recount the happenings here to your allies back home, as it seems you all are still unable to return.”

“And leave us here with him?” Thancred huffs, not all bothering to hide just who he’s referring to, eyes trained on Zenos’ form. He can’t help but smirk back at the snowy haired man, shifting his stance slightly. “Afraid, savage? Worried that the Warrior won’t be able to protect you when you finally slip up for the last time?” Zenos taunts, grinning at how Thancred stiffens.

He’s not at all deterred by you giving him a firm slap on his arm, scoffing as he sees your pout.

“Strangely enough, I am unsure by what means this is possible, but I had spoken with Y’shtola prior to your arrival...” The Exarch begins again, drawing attention back to the matter at hand. “Zenos is like the Warrior of Light, in terms of his spirit. He is here with us, body and soul, and should be able to return to the Source without issue.” Alphinaud visibly relaxes at that remark, Alisaie clicking her tongue and clenching her jaw as if she is holding back her rage.

You fingers give his arm a good squeeze, not bothering to hide your smile at the unexpected news. “That being said, I suppose for everyone else, if you have any other business you wish to attend to, now would be the time as the Warrior returns to the Source.” The Exarch smiles warmly at you, though there is a pain in his eyes. “As for you, my friend, if there is anything you wish to take care of before returning to the source, do as you must. Pray return here when you are ready.”

With those words, the Scions depart for the lands they had called “home” in their stay on the First. The goodbyes are somewhat awkward, their eyes drifting to his form as he stands at your side, silently overseeing your farewells. Eventually, everyone has left, leaving you and Zenos high on a tower gazing into the lavender forests of Lakeland in the distance.

“Do you want to go back?” He hears you ask, your fingers running gently over his knuckles. He did not think you to be one so affectionate, let alone so publicly, but has no objections. If anything, it shows those who know about him that you have made your decision.

You have chosen him, and there is naught they can do about it.

“To the Source?” He inquires for clarification, letting you cradle his hand in yours. You touch him in a way that feels exploratory; as if memorizing every ilm of his skin and committing the feel of him to memory. He will never ceased to be amused how someone as magnificent as you still seem so small due to his height and stature.

“Yes. You...I will return. To tell the remaining Scions of the Source what has transpired.” You murmur, fingers tapping lightly across his knuckles, betraying your nervousness. “But...you don’t have,”

“Do not tell me. You want me to remain in Eorzea?” He asks, scoffing as your head shoots up to look at him. “Warrior, you leave me to wonder if you really want me around at all.” He teases, enjoying the way your skin flushes red.

“That’s not it!” You snap, all teeth and power, striking like lightning. “I just know that you probably don’t want to sit here and return to the First, just to sit around and watch me search for a way to bring the Scion’s home.” You fret, eyes filled to the brim with worry.

“You are correct in that researching a way to return your friends home will be most dull.” He drones, smirking at your bared teeth. Sighing, he clutches your hand and brings you against him, giving a snicker at your surprised yelp. “You are foolish to think I would part from you. Have I not defied death, crossed realms to track you down?” He questions, using his free hand to tilt your chin upward to face him. “Perhaps, I should brand it on your skin? I am loathe to keep repeating myself, even for you.” He hums, watching as you get misty eyed.

“You’re the fool...” You sniffle, burying your face into his chest to hide your tears. He smooths a hand down your back, the motion slightly more natural to him now. “What hunter looses his quarry once it is caught?” He asks, wrapping his arms around you. He should be frightened at this closeness he desires, he can feel it lurking in the back of his mind. It is such a monumental change, for who he had been alone for so long.

Not having known the touch of another aside from him blocking their fist, their blade slicing his skin, their foot pinning him to the ground. Your caress differs from those he had felt from the courtesans he had attend him during his life. The warmth of your body feels soothes him in a way your blood does not.

Not to say that the sight of you beaten and bruised does not excite him. Oh, how he hungers.

“You have not caught me yet.” Your smile is coy, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Is that so?” He responds, playing along as he arches a delicate eyebrow. “Elaborate if you would.” He prompts, smirking as you crook a finger at him. Bending slightly, he shudders as your hands brush his hair to the side, your lips close to his ear.

“You still do not know my name.” You whisper in a way that is both sensual and charming. His hands reach for your hips, pressing you flush against him. As if you were not close enough already.

“Shall I go threaten the Scions with murder to find out?” He jests, growling playfully as you nip at his ear in reprimand. “Do that again and it is not your name that will be falling from those sweet lips of yours, hero.” He warns, enjoying the feel of you taking your turn to shudder against him.

“What would your countrymen say if they saw you Zenos? Their prince being so amorous, with the Warrior of Light no less.” You purr, setting his blood aflame. To take you here would not bother him in the least, after all he was never one to feel shame. It is only in consideration of you does he repress his urges despite your teasing.

“Would you prefer if I withdrew my attentions?” He asks, pressing a kiss of his own to your neck that has you sighing dreamily into his hold.

“I would prefer if you called me by name.” You answer, giving him a light squeeze. You are pliant against him, molding against his body perfectly. He can feel every breath you take, feel the thudding of your heart against his own.

“Then by all means...I am listening.” He murmurs, breath stilling as if you are both trapped in this moment where there is only the two of you.

When you lean in even closer and whisper your name, he cannot help the grin that spreads across his face.

#zenos #zenos yae galvus #FFXIV #ff14 #Shadowbringers #kykm

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master-sass-blast · 5 years

Text

Pride

WE INTERRUPT THE PREVIOUSLY SCHEDULED CONTENT BECAUSE-

LADIES, LORDS, AND NOBLE GENTRY OF NON-CONFORMING GENDER IDENTITIES-

IT’S MOTHERFUCKING PRIDE MONTH!!!!

And the way I see it, we can’t do Pride month without having at least one (1) Pride themed fic. Which is why I stopped working on the previously scheduled content for this week and busted out a Pride themed fic instead!

Which is this fic here! In case... that wasn’t... clear...

Anywho.

Summary: You and Piotr take some of the teens at the X-Mansion to New York City’s Pride festival --and meet some interesting people while you’re there.

Rating: T for moderate language. If it wasn’t for that, this fic would be G.

Pairings: Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, and Ellie Phimister x Yukio.

(Author’s Note One: I know that Kitty is alluded to possibly being bisexual in some of the comics. Here, she’s queer in the sense that she doesn’t quite know where she lands yet, but she knows she’s not straight. Considering I have her around 17, I figured having her be a little more ambiguous --since she’s in the early stages of her journey in discovering herself--was fitting.

Author’s Note Two: I headcanon Illyana as asexual. Also, asexual/aromantic people belong in the queer community/at Pride. If you don’t like any of that, die mad about it.

Author’s Note Three: Lzzy Hale does identify as bisexual/pansexual, which is why I decided to write in Halestorm performing at Pride (aside from my obsession with them). Basically, I just want to be clear that I’m not writing in a straight person performing at a Pride festival, say, for instance, Ariana Grande. *side-eyes Manchester*

Author’s Note Four: Your sexuality, as the Reader, is kept entirely ambiguous. There are several sexuality and/or gender identities (and combinations therein) that “allow” for being attracted to and in a relationship with a cisgender, heterosexual man (which is how I write Piotr), so I didn’t want to stick a label on the Reader’s “character” and ruin the immersion for everyone who doesn’t identify with that label. If you do identify as queer, then feel free to imagine yourself in whatever Pride themed gear you have, and as attending Pride as a queer person in a relationship with a straight person! If not, your role in the story is strictly what it says in the fic: to help Piotr chaperone the teens and to support the students in embracing the most authentic versions of themselves, whatever that may be! Just so we’re all clear.)

Tag list: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie

“—and stay together… Kitty, are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yeah, totally!”

You can’t help but chuckle at your boyfriend’s exasperated expression as Kitty Pryde, one of the latest teen trainees to come to Xavier’s, continues bouncing back and forth to whatever song she was listening to on her phone.

Summer’s normally a low-key time for the Institute. Most of the students only stay for the traditional school year, which means that the summer season sees a mass exodus of most of the mansion’s temporary residents and trainees. Save for missions and training, summer’s usually an entirely dialed back, relaxed affair.

Except for June.

One thing you’ve learned since arriving at Xavier’s is that minority groups have a way of overlapping. Several of the mutants that attend Xavier’s identify as queer in some way, shape, or form –and most of the permanent residents were queer as well, having been kicked out of their homes for the identity and genetics.

Sad as the rejection rates are, you’ve witnessed firsthand just how hard the staff at Xavier’s worked to make sure that all their residents feel accepted, supported, and loved.

Including taking teenaged and adult residents to New York City’s annual Pride festival.

Illyana, already decked out in her usual muted colors and a shirt dyed with the asexual Pride flag colors, purses her lips as Kitty bobs her head back and forth. “Katya –Katya, sit still.”

“I am!” Kitty insists as she continues bouncing up and down and mouthing the lyrics to whatever she’s listening to. “I’m totally chill!”

You bite back a snort as Illyana narrows her eyes—

And then the blonde teen yanks none too gently on Kitty’s hair.

“Ow!” Kitty shrieks, dropping her phone as she claps her hands to her head. “What the heck!”

“You want hair braided, da?” Illyana plucks the earbuds out of her friend’s ears and tilts Kitty’s head back so the –barely—younger teen can see her displeased expression. “Sit. Still.”

“Gentle, snezhinka,” Piotr says to his baby sister, tone warning.

“Yeah,” Kitty agrees, smoothing her shirt with a rainbow patterned Star of David silk-screened on the front. “Chill out, ‘yana.”

“Are we almost ready?” Ellie asks as she bounds into the kitchen, Yukio hot on her heels. “We need to leave in ten minutes if we want to get a good spot to see Halestorm play.”

Piotr had volunteered –and you along with him—to chaperone the trip this year, which basically amounted to herding a bunch of particularly fickle cats all over the place.

“Chill, dude,” Kitty says as she tries to reach for her phone. “It’s just a rock band.”

“Just a rock band?” Ellie and Illyana say simultaneously, aghast.

“Are you sure we have this handled?” you whisper to your boyfriend as Ellie and Illyana both start in on separate rants about Lzzy Hale’s status as a queer woman and the classifications of rock versus metal music, respectively.

“I am having second thoughts,” Piotr admits, grimacing slightly. “But I think it will all be worth-while at conclusion.”

You smile and kiss his shoulder. “I think so, too.”

“Wait, are you still in your pajama pants?” Ellie props herself up on the counter –and, sure enough, Kitty’s only half-dressed. “Are you fucking serious, Pryde? Do you want us to end up at the fucking fringes?”

“Language, NTW,” Piotr interjects before things can get too out of hand. “Self-control, please. Kitty, why are you not dressed?”

“Well, ‘yana was going to braid my hair—”

“Which I cannot do—” Illyana yanks Kitty’s head up again, prompting another yelp from the brunette “—if you keep moving!”

Kitty glares at her impromptu stylist. “You’re a real sadist, you know.”

“Okay,” you say, picking up Kitty’s phone and earbuds and holding them out of reach. “How about you sit still and let Illyana do your hair, and then go get dressed. Ellie, why don’t you work with Piotr and get us packed up, if you’re so worried about being late.”

“Good idea, Y/N,” Piotr says, mouthing a quick “thank you” at you when Kitty finally sits still with a huff.

You wink and blow a kiss at him, then turn when the back door swings open.

Wade strolls in, wearing a black t-shirt that says “It’s time to pan-ic” with the text colored like the pansexual pride flag; Nathan follows, wearing a tank top that says “Bi until I die” with each row of text matching an individual stripe from the bisexual pride flag.

Kitty grins. “Damn. Looking cool, dudes.”

“Always do, Snickers.”

Illyana blinks. “What?”

“He started calling me ‘Kit-Kat,’” Kitty explains with a resigned sigh. “And then it just escalated into other candies.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sour lemon drop.”

Your snort and shake your head before heading off to help Piotr and Ellie pack up the car.

***

Fortunately for Kitty’s existence and Ellie’s sanity, you arrive with plenty of time to get a good spot for the Pride concert.

“Sunscreen,” Piotr insists before Ellie can dart off to get the best possible spot remaining. He clasps her shoulder and holds a bottle of SPF 100 out to her. “Please and thank you.”

“No way!” Kitty gripes when Piotr holds a second bottle out to her. “I want to tan.”

“You’re ninety percent European Jew by ancestry,” Ellie fires off. “You’ll just burn.”

“Yeah, but it’ll turn into a tan. Duh.”

“Use the sunscreen,” Wade says with a cheery smile as he puts on a lightweight hoodie and a baseball cap. “If you don’t, you’ll wind up looking like me.”

Kitty grimaces and recoils. “Ew!”

“Be nice!” Illyana hisses, elbowing her friend in the side.

“It’s all good,” Wade says with a shrug as Kitty starts slathering herself in sunscreen. “I’m all for scaring people into making better life choices.”

***

The lot of you manage to get a spot about thirty feet back from the stage where most of the artists are performing. With Wade in a hoodie and cap and Nathan in a jacket and sunglasses, no one even gives you a second glance.

And then Halestorm comes onstage, and the music kicks in, and then the amount of glances you get plunges into the negative numbers.

Not that you can blame anyone for it. The energy the band manages to kick up is astounding.

Ellie looks like she’s seeing the face of God for the first time. She’s more animated than you’ve ever seen her, singing along to the lyrics of every song with flawless accuracy.

You and Piotr share a smile behind her back. So precious.

Halfway through the set, Piotr kneels down and puts his trainee up on his shoulders so she has a better view of the stage.

You manage to snap a quick picture of Ellie’s grinning face. That’s one for the memory books.

***

Ellie practically dives off Piotr’s shoulders once Halestorm walks off the stage.

“Blyad!” Piotr yelps, startled –Illyana barks out a quick laugh—as he catches Ellie from face-planting into the pavement. “Slow down!”

“Okay, I get why you were so excited to see them live,” Kitty says, grinning. “Lzzy’s super hot.”

“Told you,” Illyana and Ellie say in unison.

Ellie starts rummaging through her bag. “My aunt got us VIP passes to go to the signing. If we leave now, we should get there when things kick off.”

“Yeah, right,” Kitty argues. “We’re basically at the front of the crowd. There’s no way we’ll get there ahead of everyone else.”

Illyana’s eyes light up. “Everyone, grab on to me.”

Piotr frowns. “Snezhinka, nyet—”

She smiles impishly at her older brother as Ellie, Yukio, Kitty, Wade, and Nate grab onto her arms. “Sozhaleyu, medvezhonok.”

And then she winks out of view, taking everyone with her.

You bite back a laugh as Piotr’s expression morphs into one of brotherly fury. “Come on. We can check out the vendor stalls while they get their autographs.”

“Except Kitty, Yukio, and Ellie are all minors, and I am responsible for them as chaperone.”

“Oh. Right.” You do laugh this time, then squeeze his hand when he gives you a consternated look. “Well, let’s go collect our kids, then.”

***

By the time the two of you reach the autograph area, Nathan and Wade already have the teens waiting outside the security checkpoint.

Ellie’s practically vibrating with excitement as she shoves a CD case with a silver signature inked on it in Piotr’s face. “Check it out!”

“Very nice,” Piotr says with a smile equal parts indulgent and fond.

“She signed my hand, too!”

“And now you’re never going to wash that hand again,” Wade jokes.

“No,” Ellie says with a frown. “That’s gross, even by your standards.”

“Not really, considering I never wash my hands to begin with.”

Kitty gags and claps a hand over her mouth. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

“Alright, everyone,” you say with an amused eye roll. “Let’s go find a place to sit for lunch.”

***

You wind up running into some of the college students and other fledgling adults that train with the X-Men and end up sitting with them.

“Yeah, my aunt brought me to the parade last year,” Ellie says, recounting her first experience with Pride. “After I came out.”

Wade nods, genuinely listening and conversing for once. “‘Ness and I went together each year after we got together.”

“Cool.”

“I got arrested by a cop one year for streaking.”

“Not cool.”

“I went to Tokyo Pride with my older brothers last year,” Yukio chimes in, smiling happily as she munches away at a sandwich. “What about you, Illyana?”

“Ah, not so much for me,” Illyana says, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Russia… does not have as much for us.”

“It’s a good thing you’ve got Colossus here,” Kitty pipes up around a mouthful of pizza. “You can celebrate with us.”

Illyana favors the brunette with a small smile. “Da.”

“What about you, Cable?” Yukio asks, smiling sweetly. “Are there Pride celebrations in the future?”

“Not really,” Nathan replies. “We’re too busy trying to survive and win the war against Apocalypse to have parades.”

Kitty pinches the bridge of her nose. “Jesus Christ, you’re so depressing.”

Nathan smirks. “There’s not as much fuss about sexuality, either. Or polyamory. Love is love, and considering the people that you love might be gone in a moment, you have to make every second count.”

“At least you got that right,” Ellie mutters.

Wade elbows his boyfriend in the side. “C’mon, Cabesy. You have to admit—” he waves a hand grandly at the bright, colorful celebration all around you “—that this isn’t half bad.”

Nate’s smirk grows into a smile, and he concedes with a nod. “Not half bad at all.”

***

The lot of you spend the rest of the afternoon checking out the various stalls and vendor stands.

A lot of them are being run by corporate representatives. An… alarming number, really.

Nathan scowls when you pass by a booth being run by Comcast, of all things. “I thought this was supposed to be a celebration for the queer community.”

“It is,” Wade says. “At its core, it is.”

“The capitalist death machine knows no boundaries or sense of appropriateness,” Ellie says flatly.

“This is part of the problem, you know,” Nate growls, jerking his thumb at the Comcast booth. “Corporations keep sinking their claws into everything they can and milk it for all it’s worth. When they finally collapse, there isn’t anything left for the rest of humanity.”

“Okay, maybe save the depressing stuff for later?” Kitty pipes up.

“It’s okay.” Wade squeezes Nathan’s hand. “We can maim the Comcast CEO later this week if you want.”

“Nyet,” Piotr interjects. “Absolutely not.”

Wade waves a dismissive hand at your boyfriend. “Relax, Chrome Dome. I didn’t say you had to come along.”

“How about we save all conversations relating to bodily harm of others until we’re not within earshot of minors and a thousand or so witnesses,” you hiss before an actual disagreement can break out. “Capiche?”

***

Towards the end of your time at the festival, you all wind up stumbling across a photography group run by queer individuals. The banner over the table reads “Snapshot Studios” in crisp, jet black letters, and countless shots of people, animals, and nature shots are on display for everyone to see.

“Wow,” Kitty says, admiring a picture of a sunset over a lake. “This is seriously cool.”

“Thank you,” a young man with curly hair that’s been dyed blue says. He extends his hand and introduces himself as Aiden, one of the principle photographers for the studio. “We’re in the middle of doing a Pride-themed series, for obvious reasons. You can check it out on our website.” He hands out business cards to each of you. “If any of you are interested in participating, you can contact us at the email address on the card. There’s no fee involved; we just take your picture and ask you questions about your experience as a queer person.” He glances off to the side, where Wade’s staring intently at one of the pictures. “Hey, buddy. You like the look of something?”

You crane your neck to see which picture Wade’s looking at, and ��oh. That’s a familiar face.

Wade gazes longingly at a picture of Vanessa, dressed up in a strappy black dress and winking at the camera. He lifts his hand, almost as though he wants to reach out and touch her face, then clearly thinks better of it and jams it in his sweatshirt pocket.

“That’s from our sex worker positivity collection,” Aiden says, still studying Wade carefully.

“I know,” Wade says, somewhat sadly. “That’s my ex-girlfriend.”

Aiden’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh. Uh… I take it things didn’t work out?”

Wade grimaces. “She died.”

“Shit. I’m sorry, man.” Aiden regards Wade thoughtfully for a moment, then reaches over and takes down Vanessa’s picture. “Here.” He holds the picture out to Wade. “Take it home with you. No charge.”

Wade blinks at him for a moment, shocked, then gently takes the photo out of Aiden’s hands. He gazes down at it for a moment, tracing Vanessa’s face lovingly, then reaches out for Nathan’s hand before looking back up at Aiden. “Thank you.”

Nate squeezes Wade’s hand gently, a soft smile on his face.

“No problem, man. Hey, if you don’t mind my asking, are you a burn victim?”

“Ah, no.” Wade shrugs one shoulder, looking somewhat uncomfortable. “Mutation side effect.”

“You’re a mutant?” Aiden’s eyebrows go up again.

“We all are,” you clarify, gesturing at your little group.

“Really? That’s super cool. I had no idea.”

“It’s not exactly something we show off,” Ellie pipes up. “There aren’t many mutations that alter physical appearance, either.”

“Makes sense,” Aiden says, nodding. “So, did you guys just happen to meet up with each other, or…”

“We work with Xavier’s Institute for Gifted Youngsters,” Piotr says, handing Aiden a business card of his own as he steps into the conversation for the first time.

Aiden grins as he eyes the card. “So, you’re X-Men. I thought you guys were on full-time hero duty.”

“They have a rotating schedule,” Wade interjects.

“We also have to take care of students,” Piotr says, eyeing Wade sternly. “Part of that is ensuring they connect to necessary communities.”

“That’s super dope, man. I know a lot of parents who wouldn’t do that.”

You have to drift away at that point to keep an eye on Kitty and Illyana, who’ve wandered down a few booths. By the time you get them to circle back to Piotr and the rest of the group, Piotr and Aiden seem to be wrapping up what seems like an intense discussion.

You eye your boyfriend quizzically as you all head back to the car. “What was that all about?”

Piotr smiles as he tucks Aiden’s business card into his wallet. “Networking.”

***

It takes a couple weeks, but you eventually figure out what “networking” means.

As chance would have it, Aiden and his coworkers are extremely interested in including mutants in this year’s Pride-themed photography series. It takes a little finagling to get some of the waivers worked out for the underage students who want to participate, and then it takes even more finagling to get a date and mutant safe location worked out, but eventually everything smooths out.

They wind up setting up in one of the training rooms first –to get the shots that require powers like Ellie’s or Russell’s, which means that the training rooms are the safest place to set up—then move out to the grounds behind the manor for the rest of the shoot.

Ellie’s aunt, Brie Phimister –who’s a spitting image of Ellie, just with wavy hair and a slightly longer face—shows up for the second part of the shoot, decked out in her Pride gear.

“So, you’re a mutant, too?” one of Aiden’s coworkers –CJ, you think—asks while Aiden gets shots of Ellie, Brie, and Yukio together.

“Yup,” you confirm, popping the ‘p.’ “I can control air –which basically means I can fly plus some fun stuff.”

“That’s super rad,” probably CJ says with a lax grin. “Hey –Aiden! She can fly!”

“No way.” Aiden grins back at you once he finishes taking his latest set of shots. “Stick around until the end. I’d like to get some shots of that, if that’s cool with you.”

You grin back. “Sure thing.”

***

It’s late evening by the time everything wraps up.

Kitty mugs for the camera like she’s born for it, and almost seems a little put out by being told to head inside.

The highlight of the whole thing, though (in your opinion), are the shots CJ manages to get of Nathan and Wade.

Wade, unsurprisingly, seemed a bit nervous about having his picture taken. He’d been stiff, barely smiling or looking at the camera—

And then Nathan had looped an arm around his boyfriend’s neck and pressed a fat kiss against Wade’s cheek.

The smile that had broken out across Wade’s face was nothing short of wonderful.

The other highlight of the day is when Piotr comes out as things wrap up, armored up and in his X-Men uniform.

Aiden gawks, eyes wide and mouth hanging open as Piotr strolls towards everyone. “Holy fucking shit!”

“Language, please,” Piotr says with a polite gesture towards Ellie and Yukio. “Young ones are present.”

Aiden blinks, clearly thrown, but recovers quickly enough. “I’ve never seen anyone like you, dude. You look seriously cool.”

“That’s what I said when I first met him,” you comment, grinning widely at your boyfriend.

“Understandable.” Aiden looks over at you. “And you can fly?”

You summon an air current by way of answering and lift yourself a few feet off the ground, twirling and somersaulting slowly as you drift towards the sky.

“Okay, can you do that again?” Aiden asks as he gets his camera ready. “Except over here –yeah, perfect. Okay, go! Alright, look at me and smile –eh, a little more teeth… perfect…”

You do as you’re told, grinning and twirling in the air while Aiden gets the shots he wants. “How do I look, babe?” you ask Piotr with a giggle.

He smiles fondly at you. “Very beautiful, myshka.”

“You two are together?” Aiden asks.

“Yup!” You smile brightly –and Aiden snaps another quick picture. “Have been for a while now.”

“We could get some really good pictures of them,” another coworker with bright purple hair –you think her name is Violet, which would make sense—points out. “The contrast of their mutations would make for great thematic storytelling, visually speaking.”

Aiden hums thoughtfully, finger tapping against his camera while he considers the idea. “It really would. Are you two okay with that?”

“I’m down.” You look to Piotr. “Is that okay with you?”

He shrugs and moves to stand next to you. “Konechno.”

You use your mutation to plop yourself down on his shoulders and brace yourself against his head. “How’s this?”

“Not bad,” Aiden says, getting his camera ready once more. “Lean to the side and forward a little more –yeah, keep your hair away from your face, good. Okay, now you put your hands on her legs or something, like you’re helping her balance… perfect. Okay, neither of you move for a minute.” He snaps a few pictures, then chuckles. “Dude, you are too tall for some of this. Is there a stool I can use?”

“I’ll get one,” Ellie says before trotting off to the house.

***

You spend the next hour posing with and without Piotr in various positions, from sitting on his shoulders, to him holding you in his arms, to you flying above him and him smiling up at you.

Aiden jumps on and off the stool Ellie fetched for him, lays down on the ground, and does just about every conceivable thing to get the shots he wants. When the light gets too dim, he and his coworkers break out their lighting rigs and keep going.

“Y’all are seriously dedicated to this,” you comment at one point, genuinely impressed.

“You can’t have a life’s passion without actually being passionate,” Violet says with a smile.

After a while, Aiden breaks out a tripod and a camera specifically designed for slow motion and has Piotr go in and out of defense mode a few times.

“Wow,” you breathe when Aiden shows you a shot where Piotr’s face is slowly morphing into his armor. “That’s amazing.”

“No kidding,” Aiden agrees. “I think this will go on the front of the mutant spread we talked about.”

You furrow your brow, confused. “Am I missing something?”

“Back at the vendor booth,” Aiden explains. “We talked about including mutants in our Pride themed collection, but we also discussed releasing a series that focused solely on mutants once Pride month was over.” He gestures to the screen, where Piotr’s face is still visible. “This is a gorgeous shot. I wouldn’t want it to go to waste.”

Piotr checks the shot when Aiden holds the camera out for him to see, then shrugs somewhat sheepishly. “If you think it works.”

“I do. Okay, I’ve got one last concept I want to do, if you guys are willing.”

“What’re you thinking?” you ask.

“I was thinking we could have your man get into his armor, and then pick you up and give you a kiss, and then un-armor while he’s kissing you.” He looks between you and Piotr. “Does that sound like something you’d both be comfortable with?”

You nod before looking over at Piotr. “Babe?”

He shrugs again. “I have no problems.”

“Awesome.” Aiden has Piotr armor up and lift you into his arms, then tests a few spots before getting back on the stool. “Alright, kiss her in three, two, one…”

You close your eyes as Piotr’s lips press –gently—against yours and loop your arms around his neck.

It’s a little weird, holding the kiss while he transitions out of defense mode, but he holds you steady, adjusting his grip as he goes so you don’t so much as wobble. Once he’s fully de-armored, he sets you carefully on the ground and moves his hands from your back to your face, cupping your head in his hands.

Aiden snaps a few more pictures, then hops off the stool and claps his hands. “Perfect.”

You grin as he shows you the screen, cycling through the series of pictures. “Damn. We look good.”

Piotr points at the picture where he’s full armored down and cupping your face in his hands. “I like this one best.”

You lean against his side, grinning. “Me too.”

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #colossus x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cablepool #negasonic x yukio #happy pride 🌈#lgbtqa #sorry for all the author's notes but i wanted to make sure i'd clarified everything #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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marypsue · 7 years

Text

Duskfall 2 / 2

Part One || on AO3 under MaryPSue

...

The cab of the truck was too close.

I found myself wedged into the narrow, rigid backseat, my knees pushed up against the rough fabric covering the front seats, between two women who were both solid contestants with Rosalie Hale for the most stunning blonde I’d ever seen. A third Amazonian blonde sat in the front, with the driver, a man who looked like he’d just strolled out of a magazine ad, and a brunette with the most luxurious thick curls cascading down to the middle of her back. Next to all of them, I felt like a circus clown who’d somehow inadvertently wandered into the middle of a runway show.

The driver had cracked a joke about red not being my colour when he’d introduced himself - Eleazar, if I recalled right. It was the kind of old-fashioned name I wasn't likely to easily forget. I hoped the laugh I’d managed in response had been convincing. The woman to my left - Tanya, the smallest of the trio of golden Graces, her amber eyes huge and doe-like in her elfin face - had given me the most challenging look I’d ever received when Eleazar had helped me up beside her, and then had turned to look out the window and refused to acknowledge my existence.

It was going to be a long ride to Alaska.

And not just a long ride - I could expect, from what Carlisle had told me, to spend at least the next year in isolation with these people. Only these people. To have made an enemy of one of them already - I couldn’t imagine that that was a good sign.

The woods whipped past us as the truck tore up the winding road that led into the Cullens’ home, tucked away in its hidden clearing like a woodcutter’s cottage in a fairy tale. Eleazar took the hairpin turns at a speed that I knew I would have found terrifying before. Now, it seemed almost natural. Even seemed, though I could tell how fast we must be going, could see the speedometer over his shoulder inching up towards 100, a little slow.

I didn’t want to think about the paradox any longer, about what it meant. Instead, I turned my attention out the window to my right, past the taller blonde - Irina, I believed her name was - to the evergreens flickering past, blurring into a curtain of deep green drawn between me and the world. I realised I was holding my breath. I didn’t know how long I’d been holding it for.

“We have to go through Forks to get to the highway,” I said, shattering the tense stillness that lay over the rumble of the engine and the rattle of gravel against the undercarriage. For a moment, I thought of my own beautiful old beast of a truck, its rusting, faded cherry-red paint and the animal roar of its engine, and had to swallow the unexpected lump that rose in my throat. Would the truck default to Charlie, now that I was dead? Would it even be drivable anymore, after the crash? Would Charlie keep it, painful reminder that it would be? Would he sell it for scrap?

“She’s right,” Tanya said, the first words I’d heard her speak. Her voice was surprisingly low, and smooth. I could imagine her singing jazz in a smoky club somewhere, jewels in the gentle, flowing waves of her dark-golden hair and dark lipstick outlining her narrow mouth.

“True,” the third blonde - Carmen? - agreed. “Carlisle told her family that she was airlifted to California. I can’t remember if he's told them she's died yet, but either way, she’s definitely not meant to be driving through town in a pickup truck, in the company of strangers.”

“I was thinking more of the possibility that she’d launch herself out the window and rip someone’s throat out with her teeth,” Tanya said, turning back towards the window. It didn’t take my new, supernatural hearing to catch the derisive edge in her words.

“There’s an old logging road up the mountain,” Eleazar said, with a darting glance in the rearview mirror. “We should be able to go right around the town.”

It seemed fitting, somehow. After all that Forks had put me through, I wasn’t even going to get a chance to give it one last look.

“Still,” the Amazon in the front seat said, with a quick glance over her shoulder at me. “She must be starving. If we come too close to a logging camp -”

“That danger is why we agreed we had to get her north as soon as possible, Kate,” the brunette said, a hint of warning in her tone. So she must be the one named Carmen, then. “We can’t risk taking her hunting so near so many trails, so many hikers...”

I had to shut my eyes, forced myself to hold my breath again, try to focus on the engine as it roared up through the gears and not on the voices around me. It was no use. I couldn’t shake the image from my mind, couldn’t dispel the thought of all the warm, living, human bodies trekking through these very woods, right now, soft and slow and unsuspecting, so far from civilisation that nothing human would hear them scream -

I pressed a hand against my mouth, digging the fingers of my left hand into my leg just above my knee until both the tendons in my hand and the muscle under them were aching. It didn’t work. I doubted even a railroad spike through the head right now would be enough to distract me from the agonising burn that clawed up the back of my throat.

I just needed it to stop. To go away. And there was only one thing that I knew would soothe the pain.

Before I could so much as make a sound, though, a hand wrapped around my left wrist. The grip was just a little too tight for mere reassurance, but somehow, that wary, warning grasp was more comfort to me than a simple held hand would have been. The pressure on my wrist reminded me, not only that I was not alone, but that the people who were now trying to support me also wouldn’t hesitate to stop me if I lost control.

“Hold your breath,” Tanya’s voice said, short and clipped, from beside me, and the grip on my wrist tightened before slackening again. “It’s not as though you need it.”

I wanted to answer back that I’d need it if I wanted to speak, but I didn’t dare take in the breath I’d need to say it. The uncharitable thought crossed my mind that maybe this was what she’d wanted. I shook it off. I didn’t even know her. There was no reason for her to hate me this much.

A memory of Edward’s look of pure disgust, that first and only time I’d sat beside him in biology, the fist he’d held clenched under the desk, the way he’d looked at me on his way out of the guidance counsellor’s office, sprang unbidden to my mind. I tried my best to brush it aside.

...

We had been driving for about an hour when Carmen asked, slowly, like she’d been thinking about it for some time, “How are we going to get her across the border?”

“We’ll take the ferry,” Eleazar said. “Avoid the lineups at border patrol. Isabella, how are you with confined spaces?”

“It’s just Bella,” I said, to my knees. “I’ve...never really had a problem with them. I’m sorry, what does that have to do with crossing the border?”

Beside me, Tanya let out a derisive huff. I ignored her.

“We’ve all got ID to get across into Canada,” Eleazar explained, kindly. “But you’re supposed to be dead.”

“And you’re much more likely to eat the border patrol officer,” Tanya said, to the window.

I bit my bottom lip. “So...how are we going to get around this?”

Tanya raised her head from the hand she’d been leaning it against, turning to give me a big, mischievous, not entirely friendly smile. “We’re going to put you in the coffin.”

“You’re putting me in a what?” I exclaimed.

"It's not a real coffin," Irina sighed. “The back seat folds up. There’s a space underneath it. It can be a bit cramped, but...” She looked me up and down. “You should fit.”

I swallowed down the protests that bubbled up, threatening to burst from my mouth. The Denali were right - if I wasn’t hidden, somehow, getting through Canada to Alaska was going to be nearly impossible. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that Tanya seemed a little too amused about putting me in something they called a coffin.

“Okay,” I said, instead, biting my tongue and nodding to indicate that I understood. “Okay, if it’ll get us through safe.”

“I’m not so sure it will,” Kate said, shooting me a sympathetic look from the front seat. “That many humans, packed into that tight a space, with no way out except overboard? Are we really planning to take a newborn into the middle of that?”

“Well, let’s ask Isabella,” Tanya said, tossing her golden hair and grinning at me. Her smile still seemed a little too mischievous, but this time, at least, I felt like I was being included in the joke. “Bella, how do you feel about walking along the seafloor to Alaska?”

I had to shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Well, it’s not as though we need to breathe,” Tanya said, fixing Kate with an intense stare that Kate returned, unblinking. “You won’t need to come up for air. And there’s no other way to get you back home to Denali without going through a border crossing.”

I bit my bottom lip, unable to tell if Tanya was joking or not. “Sorry, I - don’t think I’m ready to look at the world from a crab's-eye view.”

“Whyever not? You’ve been a vampire for almost ten full hours already,” Tanya said, still not taking her eyes from Kate’s face. Kate’s eyebrows rose, and she shrugged as if to admit defeat before turning back around. “We’ll be there, we’ll keep an eye on her. So long as she stays in the coffin and doesn’t breathe, everything should be fine.”

Irina gave me an uneasy look, which she turned into a pitying smile when she noticed me looking back at her. I bit my bottom lip and turned away, into Tanya’s glittering grin instead.

…

The coffin was everything it was promised to be. I lay still inside it, my knees drawn up close to my chest, holding my breath, as the muffled sound of voices lapped over me from outside. I wished I could fall asleep, but Carmen had warned me that we didn’t sleep. At all.

Alone in the dark, with nothing to focus on but my own thoughts, the full weight of what had happened to me started to settle in.

I was a vampire.

The thought was too big to take in all at once. It came, instead, in short bursts of realisation, as I tallied up everything I'd lost.

My parents thought I was dead. I'd never see Charlie or Renee - or even Phil - ever again. Charlie would blame himself. Renee would blame herself - and, if I knew them, she'd be much more dramatic about it, but at least now she had Phil to take care of her, to make sure she ate and slept and got to work and that there was food in the fridge and the bills were paid. Charlie had no one.

I didn't want to think of him, alone, in Forks, having lost now not just the woman he loved but the daughter he'd tried so hard to hold onto, any more than I wanted to think of Renee falling to pieces without me, after I'd been her anchor for so long. I made myself move on from the thought. But I only stumbled onto more tragedies.

I'd never see Phoenix again. I wasn't certain how these vampires worked - most of my knowledge came from the dreadful horror TV shows Angela liked - but the one thing that seemed to be common throughout vampire mythologies was that they couldn't go out in the sun. Come to think of it, I was pretty sure the only days the Cullen siblings had skipped had been sunny. I was doomed to an eternity of Forks' gloom. And, of course, that was only if I didn't tear out anybody's throat with my teeth and get justifiably ripped to shreds by the Denali.

No matter how you looked at it, I was dead.

I drew my knees up towards my chest, tucking my arms in close to my chest, and shut my eyes, taking slow, deep breaths. The corners of my eyes burned, but tears refused to come.

...

The truck shuddered to a stop, and the rumble of the engine died. There were scuffling sounds overhead as Irina, Kate, and Tanya climbed out of the backseat, and then the sound of the doors opening and shutting. The voices I’d heard faded into the distance, and then, I was alone in the dark.

I’d only just begun to relax into the silence and the gentle motion of the ferry in the water when the seat suddenly swung open and Tanya’s voice said, loud and clear, “You can come out now.”

The gasp was reflexive. I knew as soon as I opened my mouth that I’d made a mistake, but the damage was done. Clapping both hands over my nose and mouth, I tried not to breathe, not to think about the tantalising thunder of heartbeats all around me, the rich, heady perfume of hot, living, pumping, human blood -

“Do you want me to snap?” I managed to rasp out, around the sickening burn in the back of my throat. “To murder a bunch of innocent people and have to be put down like some kind of rabid animal? Because if you do, this is really the way to do it.”

Tanya’s stare was piercing.

“Of course I don’t want innocent people to die,” she said, in a tone that implied anything but. “I’m a vegetarian.”

“So it’s just me you have a problem with,” I said. Tanya shrugged one marble shoulder. “Why?”

Tanya drew back, looking affronted.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” she said. “I don’t know how you bewitched him, but I won’t let you get away with it.”

I blinked.

“I don’t -” I started, but Tanya tossed her hair back over her shoulders, a wave of honey-gold that sent a smell of ice and vanilla sweeping over me.

“Please, don’t play dumb. You enchanted Edward with your demure, quiet, thoughtful act and your perfect skin and hair and your - girl-next-door charm, just so you could become one of us, didn’t you?”

I could feel my own mouth hanging open, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to close it.

“You think I wanted this,” I managed, at last, pushing myself up out of the coffin so that I was face to face with Tanya. “You think I planned to get run over by a runaway truck, so that Dr. Cullen might turn me into a vampire without asking me.” I ran a hand through my hair, unable to believe the evidence of my own ears. “Sure. What sane, rational person wouldn’t?”

Tanya’s eyes narrowed, and she canted her head to one side to glare at me.

“Do you really think I’m stupid? Edward couldn’t shut up about you the whole time he stayed with us.” Tanya rolled her amber eyes, leaning on one arm so that her golden curls fell over the curve of her perfect breasts like silk. “Bella’s shining cascades of chestnut hair, Bella’s perfect porcelain skin, Bella’s lips and how she bit the bottom one until it was flushed and practically begging to be kissed, Bella’s mysterious, shielded mind - you’d think no other woman had ever existed.”

I held up a hand to stop her. “You think...I...seduced Edward Cullen.”

“I thought it was preposterous, too,” Tanya said, swaying her shoulders slightly back and forth, like a big cat prowling towards her prey. I pressed myself back against the back wall of the coffin, and she smiled, all teeth. “But now I’ve met you, and I’ve seen your little act...no, I’m not surprised you wormed your way into Edward’s head.” She sucked in a breath, her smile fading as her fascinating eyes flicked up and down, taking me in in a glance. “At all.”

I had to pause, to shake my head.

“Do we know two different Edward Cullens?” I asked, and Tanya looked at me like she’d like to set me on fire. “The one I met dropped out of school and apparently moved to Alaska just to get away from me, after we made eye contact twice.”

I shrank back a little when Tanya literally bared her teeth, her rosebud lips curling back over her gums like a feral animal. She tossed her head back, drawing in a deep breath, and obviously composed herself, shutting her eyes for a moment before she locked gazes with me again.

“You expect me to believe,” she said, her voice tightly controlled and furious, “that, after all of these years I’ve known Edward, after everything I’ve done to try to get his attention, it took you only two glances to completely possess his heart and wipe all thought of any other woman from his head.”

“Is that why you’re so angry?” I asked, the realisation striking me like a thunderbolt. “You have a crush on Edward, but he doesn’t like you back?”

Tanya scowled. She pushed herself up from her perch on the edge of the coffin, staring down at me like I was a butterfly and she was holding a pin.

“You’d better stay in the coffin,” she said. “It would be just awful if you got out and something went...wrong.”

She slammed the coffin’s lid on me.

...

With Tanya gone, the coffin seemed too close, stuffy and hot and restrictive. Even with my eyes shut, holding my breath, it was harder to hear the faint slap of water against the ferry than it was to hear the chatter of voices out on deck. It still felt strange and unnatural not to breathe, and I couldn’t help feeling like I was about to choke, but I didn’t dare take a breath. I could still feel that burning at the back of my throat. I almost wished Tanya would come back, just so I could hear the sound of another person’s voice.

It took me too long to realise that I was hearing the sound of another person’s voice. Two other persons, actually. And they weren’t chattering up on deck.

I pressed a fist against my mouth, biting down hard on my knuckles as the conversing couple drew closer to the truck. It didn’t help. I could hear blood pounding in my ears, and it wasn’t mine.

The lid of the coffin lifted, almost like in a dream, a pale arm pushing it up from inside. I watched, transfixed, hardly recognising it as my own. I shouldn’t be doing this, I knew, but I couldn’t seem to think of why.

The coffin’s lid fell open and I rose, feeling a little like I was being helped to my feet by a kind stranger. The parking garage smelled sweet and fresh in comparison to the stifling air of the coffin, with a hint of brine from the ocean around us barely noticeable under the smell of exhaust and hot, fresh, living blood.

The truck door gave a heavy thunk as it swung open, and the young couple walking through the rows of parked vehicles turned to look. I wondered, absently, what they must think they were seeing as I slipped down out of the backseat. Unnatural pallor, blazing red eyes...a predator’s gait, as I started towards them -

A hand locked around my wrist like a vise.

I spun to face the interloper, wrenching my arm free, and Tanya stared back at me. It wasn’t the bitter glare she’d directed at me before, just a stern and serious look, like a warning.

“Hold your breath,” she said, darting a glance over towards the young couple, who started to hurry away from us, watching fearfully over their shoulders as they went. I took a step towards them, away from Tanya, and she gripped me by the shoulder, tugging me back and spinning me around to face her.

Again, I wrenched myself out of her grip.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tanya demanded, in a tone so low I was certain the human couple couldn’t hear her. “The ferry ride is almost over. All you have to do is not kill anyone until we hit Canada.”

I turned to look behind me, towards the leaving humans, and Tanya snapped her fingers in my face. “Hey! Are you still in there?”

I turned back to the humans, ignoring her. According to the Cullens, I had a newborn’s strength, which would be more than enough to overpower a single vampire. Not to mention the two humans. And even with their superhuman speed, the others were out on deck and wouldn’t be able to reach us before I’d already drained both of the humans dry, already satiated the burning need clawing through my throat and starting to work its way down into my chest.

Tanya couldn’t stop me.

Behind me, Tanya let out a long sigh, and I knew she was thinking the same thing.

“Fine,” she said, and then pulled me around and slapped me across the face with surprising force.

While I was still blinking in surprise, Tanya shoved me back towards the open truck door. “Get back in the coffin, and don’t come out. I’ll stay here. Obviously you need supervision.”

The coffin was the last place I wanted to be, but I complied. Tanya shut the coffin lid on me again, hastily, and then I heard the upholstery creak as she sat down on the backseat.

I lay in the dark for what felt like an eternity before Tanya’s voice said, from somewhere overhead, “Just so you know, that meant nothing. I had to do something to startle you.”

“I thought you wouldn’t care if I killed someone and had to be disposed of,” I shot back.

There was a faint huff, and Tanya’s voice drifted in through the coffin’s walls. “I couldn’t do that to my family.” There was a pregnant pause, before she added, “And...Carmen and Eleazar gave my sisters and me a chance. You deserve one as well.”

The darkness of the coffin seemed to press down on me.

“Thank you,” I managed, finally. “For not letting me murder innocent people.”

There was a smile in Tanya’s voice as she said, “Don’t mention it.”

...

After that, it was as though a spell had broken. Tanya sat and talked with me until the ferry docked. She seemed reluctant at first, but once I told her that it was much easier to listen to the sound of her voice than the heartbeats out on deck, she barely stopped for breath. She told me about Alaska, about her home, about what I could expect for my first year as a vampire. The longer we talked, too, the more my horror at the end of my human life started to turn to a strange sort of...anticipation. Even excitement.

As I turned it over in my head, the prospect of life (unlife?) as a vampire only grew more appealing. I’d never age. Never get sick. Never die. Never, if my new instincts were anything to go by, trip over a blade of grass again. And even if I did, it wasn’t likely I was going to be breaking any bones. More likely I’d break whatever I fell on.

I’d never have to see any of my old classmates again. As far as they were concerned, I no longer existed. Any grudges or crushes or high school politics that involved me had died with me. And - if I understood correctly what the Cullens and the Denali had said about Alaska - I might never have to set foot in another high school, ever again. It seemed almost too good to be true.

Thanks to the Cullens, I no longer had to worry about money - or time. I could do whatever I wanted, go wherever I wanted - so long as I could learn to control myself, of course, but as the minutes ticked by and I finally felt able to breathe again, that seemed less and less of an obstacle. I could travel the world, learn a thousand languages, study history and classic literature. Nothing was beyond my reach.

I was faster now. Stronger. More sure. And maybe I had yet to see it in myself, but - all I had to do was look around me, to see what I could become. What I was becoming. Graceful. Powerful. Beautiful.

I had forever to become the person I wanted to be.

The one thing I wished, as the truck bumped onto the ferry that was to take me to my new life, was that I’d had a choice.

The drive up through British Columbia and the border crossing into Alaska were thankfully uneventful. Tanya, who'd been so eager to pretend I didn't exist, suddenly couldn't seem to take her eyes off of me. Every time I turned, every glimpse I caught out of the corner of my eye, she was staring at me, first with an intense, vicious glare, then with this laser focus that I couldn't quite pin down. I wasn't sure if she was trying to figure me out or planning to slap me again.

The Cullens were waiting outside the Denali house when we pulled up and piled out of the truck. I recognised Dr. and Mrs. Cullen, Alice and Rosalie, Jasper and Emmett - and Edward.

If my heart had been beating, it would have frozen in my chest.

Edward’s eyes fixed on me, and didn’t leave my face for an instant. I caught myself shrinking back, all but hiding behind Kate, and forced myself to step forward, trying to ignore his gaze. I wondered, briefly, if this was how the human couple on the ferry had felt when I’d stepped out of the truck to chase them down.

“Bella,” Edward said, leaving his family to saunter over to me, ignoring the others and their greetings. I squared my shoulders and met his unwavering stare. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Tanya stop, but I didn’t dare break eye contact with Edward to look over at her.

“Edward,” I said, and he broke into a brilliant, disbelieving smile.

“I’m sorry - I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. I took a half-step back, but he didn’t seem to notice or care, softly rubbing my hair between his fingers with an expression like a man seeing snow for the first time. “I can’t believe this is real. I wish -” and his expression went dark - “I wish that Carlisle had never sentenced you to this life, this damnation...but if we must be damned, at least we can face eternity together.”

I couldn’t move. It took me what felt like an eternity to find my voice.

“Do you also make a habit of smelling strangers’ hair?” I managed to ask, finally, and Edward looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“Bella,” he said, in a tone that implied his patience was strained by my inability to comprehend, “you’re safe now. Safe from me. I - I may be rushing things, but I can’t stay away from you. I can’t resist you.” He let go of the lock of my hair, reluctantly, his eyes never leaving mine. “I never could.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” I said, taking two large steps backwards, away from him. I glanced over at Tanya, expecting to see her glaring daggers at me, murderously angry once more that I’d somehow caused this fixation Edward seemed to have on me.

And Tanya was glaring. But she wasn’t glaring at me.

Edward took a step forwards, towards me, his eyes never leaving my face. I planted both feet against the ground, tossing my hair back over my shoulder the way I’d seen Tanya do on the ferry, and stared him down. He seemed to hesitate, for a moment, but then he stepped forward again and laid a hand on my shoulder. “Bella -”

Before I could shrug him off, Tanya’s hand was on his wrist.

“You made eye contact with her twice and then vanished,” she said, shortly, to Edward, still glaring at him like she wanted to impale him with her gaze. “You’re a complete stranger to her. And I think you’re frightening her.”

By the look on his face, Edward seemed almost as stunned as I felt. His disbelief quickly shifted to rage, though, that darkness creeping back into the ambery gold of his eyes as he shook Tanya’s hand off of his wrist, thankfully letting go of my shoulder. “If this is another attempt to work your way in between us -”

“What ‘us’?” I asked, unable to believe what I’d just heard. Edward, at least, looked a little contrite at my words, though he quickly recovered.

“Bella, I’ve wanted you since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” he started, and I interrupted him before he could go any further.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it.”

“You don’t understand.” The look in his eyes had turned pleading, a softness to their honey colour that I might have melted for if I hadn’t just seen how quickly they could darken in anger. “I had to stay away from you for your own safety. Your blood - it was irresistible to me. But now - I love you, Bella. And I have all of eternity to show you that.”

I shook my head. “You don’t know anything about me."

“I want to learn.” Edward’s gaze was powerfully intense, and I could almost feel myself shrinking beneath it.

“Edward,” Rosalie said sharply, drawing Edward’s attention. She had her arms crossed over her chest, shaking her head, but Alice beside her was beaming.

“I told you!” she chirped, clapping her hands together in obvious delight. I could practically see the wedding bells chiming in her eyes.

I looked around, but no one other than Rosalie seemed at all disturbed by what was happening. As usual, I was on my own.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe I really had misjudged Edward, and if I got to know him, I’d discover that I really did love him. Maybe this really was what my whole life had been leading up to. Maybe this was my forever.

But, I realised, this time, the choice was mine.

“No,” I said.

“Bella,” Edward said, a note of threat in his voice. “Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m not the one talking about eternity with a girl I’ve never spoken to,” I shot back. There was an audible, scandalized gasp from somewhere behind me, and I caught a glimpse of Rosalie with a hand over her mouth, obviously hiding a smile.

Tanya looked from me, to Edward, and back at me again, her expression dark and her bottom lip between her teeth.

“You know what, you two should really give each other a chance,” I said, looking back up at Edward, under my lashes, like I’d seen Tanya do. “Get to know Tanya better. I think you two might really get along.”

Edward shook his head, and I could see barely-restrained fury in the tense lines of his shoulders, the slight movement of his jaw. “Of course. She’s poisoned you,” he said, darting a wicked look in Tanya’s direction. “Bella, I know you’re too kind, too selfless, to stand in the way of another, but you don’t have to step aside for her sake. It’s you I want, not her.”

Tanya's eyes narrowed. I could feel my own narrowing as well.

“Fine,” I said, my mind whirling as I tried to think of a way out of this. “I wanted to let you down easy, but...”

Tanya met my eyes as I turned to her, and I could tell that she was thinking the same thing I was. I let out a breath of relief, and leaned forward, cupping her face in my hands.

She leaned in at the same time I did, and our lips met.

I’d expected the kiss to be awkward, uncomfortable. I’d expected to have to pretend to enjoy it, to act like I had fallen madly in love with Tanya. But after only a second of trying not to knock our noses together, the kiss was...nice. Tanya’s breath was cold and sweet, a little like vanilla and mint, and when she caught my bottom lip between her teeth, it sent a little electric jolt down my spine.

When we broke apart, Edward looked practically incandescent with fury. I held my breath, waiting for the explosion, but he only turned and stormed away, towards the house. Rosalie stepped aside to let him by, and I thought I saw her shoulders shake with barely-contained laughter. Alice let out a short wail of despair, before stamping one foot against the ground and running after her brother. “Edward? Edward, wait -”

Tanya met my eyes, and I saw a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well. I didn’t know you felt that way,” she said, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief, and I let out the breath I’d been holding, long and slow.

“Thank you,” I said, looking down at my hands as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear nervously. “You didn’t have to -”

Tanya reached out, catching one of my hands in hers, and I looked up, surprised, to see her smiling.

“I’m not sure that was convincing enough,” she said. “I think we’d better practice, in case we ever need to do that again.”

I had to press a hand over my own mouth to hold in the burst of laughter.

“I think you’re right,” I answered.

#twilight with pride #this is mary's fic tag #/#//#///#twilight #I have no idea whether this is even readable anymore #but hey guess what this is FUCKING FINISHED #feat. edward cullen being a real big jerk

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allthingsteenwolf20 · 7 years

Text

Alpha Female - Part One

* WARNING: I wouldn’t call it “smut” but things get a little steamy between Y/N and Derek so just a heads up.

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror admiring her outfit. Tonight was the night. After months of hanging out together, getting coffee and casually chatting; she was officially going on her first real date with Derek Hale. He was tall, dark and handsome to say the least. She had seen him several times at the launderette and had offered him change when he couldn’t change his notes. After that, they began to meet regularly getting together at local coffee shops or just taking a relaxing stroll in the park.

She smoothed out her dress, her hands gliding from her waist past her hips as she finished getting ready. Derek was taking her out to dinner so she opted for a much more fancier outfit deciding on wearing her deep burgundy lace knee length skater dress, black tights and her lace up black heels. She wore a light base of foundation, black eyeliner and matching burgundy lipstick and styled her y/h/c hair with lose wavy curls.

The doorbell rang and she grabbed her purse and went to answer it. Stood on the other side was her date. Derek Hale. He wore a blue Henley, denim jeans and his signature leather jacket and in his hand was a bouquet of red roses. “Hey beautiful.” He greeted her with a toothy smile. “Mr Hale.” Y/N addressed leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. “These are for you.” Derek replied handing her the bouquet of roses. Y/N couldn’t help but blush at the sweet gesture. “Derek, they’re beautiful. Thank you.” She replied pressing a kiss to his cheek. She invited him in for a few minutes as she went to put them in some water and a vase.

“Ready to go?” Derek asked as she saw her walk back down to him. “Yes.” She replied happily picking up her purse. Derek held his arm out for her to take as she followed him out locking the door to her apartment. Derek opened the passenger side of the door for her letting her climb in as he got into the drivers seat and started the engine making his way to the restaurant. “You look beautiful.” Derek told her for the third time glancing at her every so often as she’d blush slightly hearing the compliment. “Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” She replied making him chuckle. “So after dinner, I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place for coffee.” He asked her. She smiled and nodded. “Just for coffee?” She asked raising an eyebrow playfully at him. “I think I can arrange for something better.” He replied. They both chuckled at each other’s silliness.

It wasn’t long until they arrived at the restaurant walking in hand in hand. “Derek, this place is beautiful but you know I’d have been happy with us ordering pizza and having a movie night.” She told him feeling slightly guilty at how much he was spending on her. “Nah, only the best for my girl.” Derek replied. “I wouldn’t object to pizza and a movie night though.” She told him. “How about we do that for our next date?” He asked her to which Y/N smiled and nodded.

Dinner at the restaurant went by smoothly as the two lovers sat across from each other enjoying everyone moment from their casual playful chats to the delicious meal brought out to them. “That was amazing.” Y/N stated astonished. “I’m glad you had a good time. Shall we get going?” He asked her as he paid the bill leaving it on their table. “Yeah that’d be great but I’ll be just a second.” She told him pointing towards to the ladies room. After Y/N relieved herself, she looked at herself in the mirror and reapplied her lipstick making sure she looked just as good at the beginning of the night.

She met Derek back at the table and they headed back out to the car and made their way to his loft. The couple walked into the loft and Derek dimmed the lights setting the mood as he lead Y/N to the living room letting her get comfortable as he made two mugs of coffee and brought out a box of chocolates for them to share. “I’ve always loved this place.” She sighed contently looking around at how spacious yet comfortable and homey his loft was. Sure with a few more comfortable touches it could be great but right now, at this moment it was perfect.

Hours went by as the couple were snuggled up together drinking coffee, eating chocolate and casually chatting. A loud clap of thunder startled them and the flashes of lightening filled the room as the rain began to pour. It was almost 1am when Y/N looked at her phone. She got up to look out the window and sighed. It really was coming down out there. “Y/N? Do you want to spend the night here and tomorrow I’ll drop you off at home once the storm has cleared?”. Derek offered her. “Would that be ok?” She asked him. “Of course, it’s fine.” Derek smiled.

Suddenly the door to the loft opened and in trudged a group of very wet and tired teenagers. “What’re you guys doing here?” Derek asked them slightly annoyed they had crashed the romantic evening. “I told you I had an important date tonight.” He added glancing from them to Y/N. “It’s alright, Der. Don’t worry.” Y/N reassured him putting her hand on his arm as he instantly calmed down from her gentle touch. Derek sighed. “Who is that?” Lydia smiled giving Y/N a wave. “Y/N, this is the pack. That’s Scott, Stiles, Lydia, my cousin Malia and Liam.” He introduced. “Guys, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.” He told them. “It’s really nice to meet you guys.” Y/N stated politely. “You too! Wow, you’re so pretty.” Lydia complimented. “Thank you.” Y/N smiled blushing at the compliment. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Scott replied with a dashing smile. “You must be the true alpha.” Y/N smiled. The pack froze and just stared at her. “You…you know about…” Scott began looking over at Derek who just smirked to himself. Liam tugged on Scott’s sleeve and loudly whispered. “I think she knows.” The pack rolled their eyes at him. Y/N chuckled and nodded. She looked down closing eyes and looked back up at the true alpha. Her eyes changing from their usual y/e/c state to fiery red orbs. “You’re an alpha?” He questioned. “I am but there’s only one alpha in my life.” She replied winking at Derek. The older alpha wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into him. “That I can agree on.” He replied pressing a kiss to her forehead followed by gagging noises in the background coming from some of the pack members. The couple rolled their eyes. “Well I guess we should be going.” Scott replied urging the others out. Liam went over and tugged on Derek’s shirt shyly. “Can I stay here tonight, please?” Liam asked looking up at him with baby blue eyes. “Aww.” Y/N replied out loud causing Liam to blush. Derek shook his head and smiled at his girlfriend. “Of course you can, pup. Go on up straight to bed” He told him. Liam nodded and headed up to the spare room where he mostly stayed.

“I think we should head up too.” Derek told her. He let Y/N go on up to the room and get changed into one of many outfit she’d left at his, earning her own draw in the bedroom. She changed into her lace camisole and shorts knowing it’d drive Derek crazy. “Alright, everything’s locked up downstairs and woah.” He replied looking at her. Y/N smiled. “You like what you see?” She teased him. Derek hurried into the bathroom to change and joined her on the bed. He pressed himself against her holding her close as he smashed his lips against hers sealing their love with a passionate kiss. “Derek we can’t do this now, not with your beta next door.” She gasped as he left kisses on her neck sucking at her skin gently causing her to moan. “It’s fine, he’s ok.” Derek reassured her. She laid down on the bed as Derek hovered over her, inching his lips closer to hers as he ran his fingers through her long y/h/c wavy hair. Just as the older alpha was to reach for her lace shorts, there was a knock at the door startling them both.

Derek opened the door to find a tired and sobbing Liam. “Liam? What is it, pup?” The older alpha asked him softly wiping away his tears. “Hey, it’s ok. You can talk to me?” He urged him but the beta just whimpered as the noise from outside startled him. “Is it the thunder and rain, sweetie? Is that what’s keeping you up?” She cooed softly. Liam nodded and rubbed his eye with his fist tiredly. Another clap of loud thunder made Liam jump and he whimpered in fright. “Why don’t you come and lay here with us?” Derek asked the young scared beta. Liam nodded and made his way over to the bed. “Are you ok with this?” Derek asked. “Yeah it’s fine, don’t worry.” She reassured him. Liam climbed into the middle of the bed and turned to face Y/N. She smiled down at him and wiped away his tears. “It’s ok, sweetie. You’re ok.” She cooed lovingly. The thunder clapped again louder than before and Liam curled up against Y/N.

“You won’t leave me, right?” Liam asked nervously. Y/N looked Derek who was smiling their sweet interaction. “Of course not, sweetie. We’re hear if you need anything at all. I promise.” She told him laying down beside him as Derek joined them on the other side. Liam nestled down and rolled over to Y/N burying his head against her stomach. “What a sweetheart.” Y/N cooed quietly as she wrapped an arm around Liam and ran her fingers through his hair seeing that he was completely content resting against her.

The young beta snuggled into her more and she couldn’t help but lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead. “He’s so adorable.” Y/N commented smiling down at him resting against her. “I think he likes you.” Derek chuckled as he leaned over to ruffle the young boy’s hair looking down at how peacefully Liam was sleeping in his girlfriend’s arms. “I like him too, he’s so sweet”. She cooed smiling down at him as she used her fingers to comb through his hair gently. “This is what it means to be the pack mom, huh?” She asked her love. Derek smiled at how comfortable she was and nodded. “I think you’d be perfect at it.” He replied pressing a kiss to her lips one last time before laying down to sleep.

#teen wolf #teen wolf pack mom #pack mom #pack mom imagines #reader #momma hale #derek hale #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #malia tate #liam dunbar

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getsterekt · 8 years

Text

FIC RECS

in honor of gaining another hundred followers on my twitter account @getsterREKT heres another rec list.

This will just be made up of lots and lots of different types of fics. Make sure to read the warnings for each fic before reading.

(fics with ** are favorites)

It Takes A Village by Hypocorismm

Stiles's used to yogurt handprints on his shirts from where he picked her up, and he's used to snot on his shoulders and neck from where she cried after a bad dream. He's used to her legendary tantrums when she doesn't get her way, her eyes glowing ferocious gold. He's used to being the village it takes to raise her, and the pack she longs for.

Except, he needs the pack's help, and Derek's protection when a particularly power-hungry pack wants his cub. And he isn't used to sharing.

WORDS: 49227

RATING: Mature

CHAPTERS: 35/35

WARNINGS: angst, kidnapping, mpreg.

Night Stroll by Marishna

"Is it night there?"

Derek chuckled. "Yeah, it is. How do you know where I am?"

"I don't, that's why it's weird it's night. That puts you in... Europe?" Stiles asked after some quick math.

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Spain. You haven't lost that..." Derek waved his hand. "Stileness."

WORDS: 3276

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTER: 1/1

WARNINGS: derek has insomnia??? is that a warning??? idk

****Prince Among Wolves by tylerfucklin (Deshonanana)

Looking for full day/evening sitter. 2 twin boys age 4. Must have exp. w/werewolves. Must be human. No pedophiles. No teenage girls. Pay negotiable.

WORDS: 101,000

RATING: Explicit

CHAPTERS: 20/20

WARNINGS: mild transphobia, derek learns acceptance, broken family, so much angst

Walking Into Darkness by alenie

Derek hears Stiles before he sees him. There's anxious, wheezy breathing coming from the next aisle over in the grocery store, accompanied by a racing heart and the smell of unwashed sneakers and hair gel. He turns the corner and Stiles is standing frozen in the dairy aisle, knuckles clenched around the metal of his shopping basket.

WORDS: 6342

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: panic attacks, anxiety, depression, post 3b, pre-sterek relationship

****Ashes, Ashes by ShanaStoryteller

The Sheriff gets a call at work - someone's tried to burn down his home with his son inside.

"I thought of you coming here, and finding me dead, of another burnt out husk of a body, something else fire has stolen from you, of you having nothing left to grasp but ashes," John can't even call that a whimper, it's clearly a whine as Derek's hands tighten against Stile's hips, as if his boy will shudder to dust at the mere mention of the possibility unless Derek's hands can hold him into one piece, "and that thought was worse than dying."

WORDS: 2699

RATING: Teen And Up

CHAPTERS:1/1

WARNINGS: so much angst, stiles nearly burns to death

Just Realize What I Just Realized by literaryoblivion

He’s never noticed it before; it’s always just been second nature to him these days, does it out of habit, but it’s not until he stops to actually think about it that it becomes abundantly and embarrassingly clear to him that he is in love with Stiles and that they are practically dating without the actual dating part…

WORDS: 2529

RATING: Teen And Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: a lil angst, (but mostly fluff)

The Potential Fatality of Assuming by crossroadswrite

The hair, the buttons and the general happy and slightly tired disposition with which Derek came back from his secret exploits were as obvious as a glaring neon sign flashing the words JUST GOT LAID.

A sign that Stiles ignored because he had a seven year plan god damn it.

(OR: in which Stiles assumes things, gets accosted by the sister he never/always wanted, discovers he was horribly wrong, almost dies via Derek Hale with kids, can't handle all that collarbone action, uses tickling as the ultimate mode of revenge, and gets a boyfriend. In that order.)

WORDS: 2196

RATING: General

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: misunderstandings, because stiles is dumb, lots of pining

****If I Could Trade Mistakes For Sheep, Count Me Away Before You Sleep by alisaj

"Thing is, Stiles," Derek says, his voice hard and unfaltering. "I didn't sign up for you. You just hung around until we got used to you being here."

That stings. He hadn't realised how Derek feels about him. They've been getting on quite well, teaming up on little missions and bantering back and forth without malice. Stiles sometimes lets Derek crash in his room after a big fight, trying not to let on how intriguing he finds the werewolf.

"Well now we can get used to you not being here. You're a liability, Stilinski. You can't protect yourself and we always end up having to help you when we've got more important things to do. You're out of the pack."

The one where Derek is a terrible Alpha and Stiles ends up walking into a big pile of shit.

WORDS: 33,383

RATING: Explicit

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: stiles gets kicked out of the pack, derek is stupid, like, so stupid, stiles gets hurt, theres so much angst in this like wtf, stiles is sad, the pack sucks

Sour Kush (series) by alisvolatpropiis

Stiles mentally curses Erica, because in all of her warnings about how brusque this guy could be, she forgot mention that he’s also hotter than the fucking sun. If Stiles had any lingering questions about his sexuality, they’d be completely settled by what this guy is doing to him. In fact, he might not even be gay anymore. He might be in the midst of crossing into some yet-to-be-named sexuality that’s all about a scruffy black beard and alarming green eyes and muscles and tattoos and this guy’s everything ever.

The guy’s name is Derek, his lust-addled brain supplies distantly.

Well that settles it, then. Stiles is Dereksexual.

WORKS: 3

COMPLETE: it says no but they havent updated in like over 2 years so im guessing its done

WORDS: 15,392

RATING: Explict

WARNINGS: everyone is stoned all the time, also in work 2 stiles is hurt because he thinks derek is getting it on with parrish, they’re dumb, age difference, derek has a beardddd

I Just Want You For My Own (More Than You Could Ever Know) by yodasyoyo

“What is with that sweater, dude?”

Derek ducks his head to look at it, abashed. “Uh- Mrs Hernandez knitted it for me. It’s an early Christmas gift.” He smooths it down self-consciously.

Stiles cocks an eyebrow.

“What? She’s my neighbor and sometimes I-” Derek trails off. Stiles’ other eyebrow rises to join the first, and Derek sighs. “Sometimes I help her carry her shopping.”

Of course he does. One day maybe Stiles will stop being in love with Derek Hale, but today is not that day.

WORDS: 16,065

RATING: Teen And Up

CHAPTERS: 4/4

WARNINGS: pining, fake relationships, they’re both idiots.

Baby You’re Beautiful by supernaynay

“God you’re beautiful.”

Derek hadn’t even realized that the words had left his mouth until the whole room went silent, including Stiles, who until about five seconds earlier was busy yelling at him for putting himself in danger yet again.

WORDS: 1089

RATING: General

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: derek is hit with a truth spell

****(Sacred) In The Ordinary by idyll

The Pack, after college, graduate school and the starting of careers, comes back to Beacon Hills. Nothing's gotten less complicated after all this time.

Based on a kink meme prompt that grew legs and got serious.

Note: This is a whole lot of pack!fic with a very slow build Derek/Stiles.

WORDS: 78,759

RATING: Explicit

CHAPTERS: 9/9

WARNINGS: violence, slow build

Cause I Built a Home (For You, For Me) by noneedforhystereks

Mechanic!Derek and Daddy!Stiles

Derek Hale is a mechanic in the sleepy town of Beacon Hills, where he has lived all of his life. He spends his day in a simple routine: wake up, fix cars, go home, sleep. It's what he's good at, and it keeps things simple and uncomplicated. Derek doesn't let people in and remains emotionally distant from everyone except his sister, Laura, and her daughter. This all changes when Boyd tows in an old blue Jeep that needs a lot of work and Derek meets the owner of said Jeep.

Because once Derek meets Stiles and his kids, he can't stop himself from caring. And he doesn't want to stop.

WORDS: 59,719

RATING: Explicit

CHAPTERS: 15/15

WARNINGS: angst, pining, emotional hurt, stiles has a lot of baggage.

Waiting For Our Superman by tearsandholdme

Derek knew the moment he opened the front door of his clean and pristine apartment to Stiles Stilinski holding a small boy, a cluster of bags, and a suitcase, he was screwed. In every way possible. Undone by the big brown eyes of a small child and his annoying, witty, and attractive father.

WORDS: 95,240

RATING: Mature

CHAPTERS: 22/22

WARNINGS: angst, mpreg, emotional hurt, overprotective derek

Adding You to My Future by NekoIzumi

“So, I'm Stiles.” he smiled warmly once he had put his unannounced patient down on the exam table. “I will poke and prod you a little bit to check for internal injuries, those that I can’t see because they're inside you, and some of it might hurt but it will pass, I promise. I will tell you everything I'm about to do and why I'm doing it so just stay calm and this will go like a breeze, okay?”

Now, Stiles wasn’t stupid in any way, shape or form, he knew a were when he saw one… although he had obviously never seen a werecat before, and definitely not one as young as this one.

WORDS: 42,252

RATING: Explicit

CHAPTERS:9/9

WARNINGS: violence, like, lots of violence, slow build, gore, emotional comfort, bamf stiles

Stars Plummet: a Christmas Story by Peckishdragon

When Stiles left Beacon Hills, he never thought he would be coming back. Eight years later, he is coming home for Christmas, with a small passenger in tow. Old feelings, never forgotten, are rekindled.

WORDS: 11,589

RATING: Mature

CHAPTERS: 6/6

WARNINGS: a lil violence, like a tiny bit,

All They Have by Nival_Vixen

Single dads AU where Derek and Stiles meet because Derek’s daughter and Stiles’ trans son become friends at school.

WORDS: 4004

RATING: Teen And Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: trans child, which leads to ignorant adults being ugly fucks, protective derek

love comes in all shapes and sizes by trilliastra

“Daddy says that when I’m in trouble I should get the police because they always help us. You’re going to help me, right?” Stiles smiles at her, happy that today he decided to stop by the grocery store to buy milk after his shift instead of going straight home. At least now he’s able to help the little girl, who knows what would have happened to her if he weren’t around.

“Of course I will.” He smiles again. “What’s your name?”

“Rebecca Hale.” She answers proudly. “My daddy is Derek Hale.”

WORDS: 2207

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: kate argent

When You Wish Upon a Dragon by lupinus

Stiles is at the Hale house, lounging on the front stoop watching Isaac, Erica, and Boyd wrestle, when the baby comes running out of the woods. Derek becomes instant father to a magically appearing baby and falls in love. Stiles can’t take the cute and worries Derek’s heart will break if he loses the kid.

or, a dragon gives derek a baby, stiles is oblivious, steve just loves his bright pink rocking unicorn and his da and ma

WORDS: 13,739

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: none, but so much fluff

****Lucky That I’m Yours Every Day by stilinskisparkles

Derek doesn't see how Valentine's Day can get any better than a normal day with Stiles.

WORDS: 6772

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: fluff. just. all the fluff. its disgusting how fluffy it is really.

Relationship Status: It’s Complicated by kellifer_fic

Okay, I know this is a huge stretch for you, but can you please pretend you're like, into me?

WORDS: 4010

RATING: Mature

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNING: mentioned stiles/omc

***************Shot Through The Heart by LunaCanisLupus_22

All they've given him is the guy’s head shot. And it’s terrible because now he is ridding the world of one more ridiculously attractive, instant pants dropping- take me now, if you please- regulation hottie.

Even if he has a scowl to rival Kirsten Stewart.

Or the one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn't go as planned.

WORDS: 64,833

RATING: Explicit

CHAPTERS: 12/12

WARNINGS: so much violence, they literally try to kill eachother, enemies to lovers pretty much

will to follow through by owlpostagain

“It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,” Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other, serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”

“Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”

“I know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”

“There are worse ways to die.”

WORDS: 42,411

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTERS: 2/2

WARNINGS: angst, mentions of violence,

Professor D. Hale (series) by har1ey_quinn

A series of outsider POVs on Professor Hale and his significant other (with some guest appearances from the pack)

WORKS: 7

COMPLETE: possibly

WORDS: 18,008

RATING: Teen and Up

WARNINGS: none

go on without me!!!! (or the one where stiles is cursed by witches and overreacts to everything) by day

Stiles is cursed by witches and he can't react like a normal human being. Scott is a terrible best friend and can't stop laughing. Derek just wants it all to be over.

WORDS: 1396

RATING: General

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: crack

******For My Next Trick, I'll Regret All of My Life Choices: a performance by Derek Hale and 80% of his eyebrows by crossroadswrite

(978): I woke up missing my shoes and my left eyebrow. MY. EYEBROW. . “What’s wrong with my eyebrows?”

Kira gives him a sympathetic look, and climbs up to sit next to him, “You kind of… don’t have one.”

“I what!” he shouts, wincing at the volume of his own voice.

Kira pats him on the shoulder and shoves a piece of toast in his hand.

“It’s not that bad,” she tries to console him with a smile, then glances up at his left eyebrow and winces, “It could definitely be worse. It’s not all gone. Just. Half of it.”

Derek considers crying into his orange juice but decides that would be a waste and because his mother taught him how to be a good guest he opts to drink it instead.

WORDS: 2566

RATING: Teen and Up

CHAPTERS: 1/1

WARNINGS: none buT THIS FIC IS AN ALL TIME FAV, THE FUCKING SQUIRRELS VIKING BURIAL GETs ME EVERYTIME, AND BATMAN OH MY

#sterek #eternalsterek #sterek is eternal #sterek fic #sterek fic rec #stiles stilinksi #derek hale #fic rec #fic rec post #hobrien #tyler hoechlin #dylan o'brien #teen wolf #teen wolf fic

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the-voice-of-hell · 6 years

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Rent is Theft, part 10

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here. Note: My MC is a Filipina trans woman. If you have any feedback on that or anything else, let me know. ***

We went door to door. I was slipping and tripping - feet clumsy on the warped floor, hand sliding through a barely perceptible film of mucus on the walls. At last we got everyone together in Olivia and Knobby's living room.

Methadone Mike said, "What's this about, Courtney? I bet we all thought the same thing - that the dicks had us."

Grime said, "I don't think that's what's going on, but just, everyone stay quiet until she's done, OK?"

Perry started to bark something but Patrick caught him.

I said, "I almost died just now. We've been having some problems on the floor here and trying to ignore them, but if it's this dangerous, we can't do that anymore."

Grime looked more confused than anyone, but stifled himself. Good boy.

I continued, "The building is somehow allergic to us. I don't get it, but my bedroom window opened and my fucking bed got sneezed out. It's probably in the alley right now, unless it caught enough air to land on the building across the way." People were quiet, straining for something. Understanding? "Does anyone not believe me? Who needs to go see my room?"

�� Leimomi shook her head, followed by Patrick, Marcie, Deandre, Mike, Olivia, and Knobby. Perry and Richie didn't gesture but seemed to be in silent acceptance.

Grime said, "Maybe I should look at your room. You're totally convincing, but I'm having trouble accepting this - it's too bizarre."

Marcie said, "It could be real dangerous. And how can you not believe it? You see the floor out there today? It comes and goes but it's real bad right now."

Patrick said, "Allergies though? I can see it's all fucked up, I don't get it, I kinda don't wanna get it, but where do ya get allergies from?"

Grime said, “What’s wrong with the floor?”

Deandre said, “Are you kiddin’? How can you not see that, feel it under your feet?”

Grime shook his head and threw up his hands.

“Look,” Olivia said in her usual blank way, “He’s different.”

Everyone followed the direction she pointed - Grime’s feet. They looked normal enough. But he was standing between Deandre and I, and the carpet around our bare feet was swollen into little ridges. The floor at Grime’s feet was flat and smooth.

“Oh god,” I slapped my head. “Stand where I’m standing, Grime.”

“What.”

I stepped aside to vacate the spot, leaving light swelling and foot shapes in my place. “Stand there.”

“OK, but my name is Graeme, Courtney.”

“Oh, shit, whatever. Please, now.”

He stepped onto the spot, and the flooring smoothed out beneath his feet, laying perfectly flat.

Everyone started chattering among themselves.

Patrick asked, “Why? What’s he got? We all covered in human dander and godda take more baths? Is he a fuckin’ Portuguese water dog?”

Momi said, “I can’t tell the difference in how it’s pronounced. Greeme?”

Deandre said, “This is officially fucked up.”

Knobby said, “Is it because he’s white?”

Olivia said, “No, so is that guy, and that guy.”

Deandre added, “Maybe it’s because he’s got a job and none of us do.”

Patrick said, “Naw, I’m working.”

Methadone Mike said, “We broke the rules. This has to mean God hates us, man.”

Richie said, “No gods, no masters. If that guy is immune, we can find out why and do it ourselves.”

Marcie said, “How? We can’t know anything. It’s magic, isn’t it?”

Perry said, “It’s more like Graham, isn’t it? I don’t care.”

Grime said, “Graeme. It’s spelled with G-R-A-E-”

I said, “It doesn’t matter!”

Momi said, “There ain’t no words with E after A.”

I reiterated my point. “I have it! Graeme, you have allergies, don’t you?”

“Yes. I do.”

“Maybe you aren’t affected by the building’s allergies because you have allergies? Like a double negative thing?”

Deandre said, “No, I got allergies too. I got shook out of bed last night.”

Patrick and Marcie started to speak, but then Grime, who had been looking at the way his feet smoothed the carpet, silenced them with an idea. “I take medicine. Do you?”

Deandre shook his head. “Living downtown I don’t have to. It’s mostly plant shit, worse in the suburbs.”

I flared my nose and stamped my feet. The ground blistered at my touch. “That’s it! That’s it. We need allergy medicine.”

Methadone Mike said, “I don’t like the feeling, the drowsiness.”

“I have another idea, but we’re going to need a lot. We’re going to need a fucking lot of allergy medicine.”

Knobby said, “Just like starting a meth lab!”

Grime said, “Yeah, that’s what it’ll look like if we go out to lay down a bunch of money on Benadryl.”

“Then we steal it.”

***

It was time to take care control of our lives again. The Myrmidon Apartments would have to take their medicine. We all got into our rich bitch drag and strolled out in groups. Olivia and Knobby looked like they were going to play racquetball. Marcie was the church lady with young Richie in a tweed suit at her side. Momi was going with them, but in hipster drag with a skirt over leggings and puffy ski vest. Methadone Mike was in a navy blue blazer with an anchor on the lapel, over pastel clothes and sockless boat shoes. He wanted a hat like Alan Hale on Gilligan’s Island, but we couldn’t find one and I thought it was a bit over the top anyway. Deandre was in his purloined dapper queer style. Patrick, Perry, and Grime were already well groomed and dressed enough to not look too out of place. I was in my apartment people disguise from back when I got the keys. Wherever possible, we were rocking sunglasses. It was what the occasion called for.

Grime and I took the express bus north to a car rental place, in preparation for a day of hitting every place we could find. With that we could go farther afield than the rest, which would help keep us from overlapping in our travels and wasting time.

I did some research to see which area would have the fewest meth labs, so the store clerks would be less suspicious. I’d heard that the south end of the county was the meth capital of the planet, so we went north. Claims of the south side being the meth capital yielded forty thousand search engine results, and the north side only got twelve thousand. Very scientific. Sadly methy.

Grime drove dangerously, like some kind of California asshat. Turned out he was from San Dimas, of Bill & Ted fame. I had always been told that people in Washington were more careful about breaking the speed limit, preferring to do it when traffic was light enough to have some car lengths between. But that as soon as you cross the border from Oregon to Cali, everyone is doing a hundred ten, right on each other’s tailpipes. I’d never traveled to witness the spectacle, but with Grime at the wheel, I believed it. I didn’t want to get arrested with a trunk full of allergy meds - or at all - but how annoying would it be to nag him about it?

He tore ass up I-5 all the way to Snohomish County, then hopped off onto highway 99 to start the mission. We pulled into the parking lot of a strip mall and parked. I held my baseball hat in hand. “How much of your money are you willing to waste on this? I think we should be stealing.”

“Yeah. I never wanted to be a thief - not like this. It seems low. And I know that’s some lingering classism on my part, like, why shouldn’t people steal the shit they need? But it feels… embarrassing. Trying not to seem like meth heads while doing meth head shit.”

“I know. What’s the least embarrassing job? Grabbing the stuff, or running distraction?”

“Grabbing the stuff, definitely, but I’ve never been slick before.”

“Well, you’re also a medium young white guy in clean clothes, so people will be less focused on you. I’d rather be filling the bag myself, but whatever your lack of experience? Seems like you’d be best for it.”

“Yeah.”

I put on my hat and we got out of the car. Grime went into the back seat to grab a reusable Whole Foods bag I’d modified for a similar job. I crafted a fake pile of clothing on a flap. Stolen goods would go in, the flap could be easily pulled up over them, so a glance in the bag would look like it contained goods from elsewhere. The hardest part was cutting a package of socks in half and gluing it into place. I’d made it for another foolish quest. Today it would get a more important use.

We walked into the store and split up, doing a few rounds of the aisles to case the locations of employees. Seeing Grime had a decent opening, I decided to corner the nearest employee with some bullshit. They were one aisle away from him, could walk around that corner at any moment. Not with me in their grits. “Hey hey, I need to know where you keep your batteries.” I knew where they were, of course.

It was a young white lady who tensed visibly at my voice. That made it easier to burn her, for sure. “They’re on aisle 12 A.” She kept about her business.

“Hey, hey, how am I supposed to know which one is 12 A? Where are the signs?”

She sighed. “Right up there.” She pointed them out.

“Oh? They’re so small. Are they in the same place on every aisle? Why don’t you just show me?”

In between breaths, between words, I could hear a clatter of thin cardboard boxes, a rattle of pills, of Grime filling the bag. It was maddening and I added words to my fast-talk just to cover it up. “I mean I think it’s very rude. I don’t feel like you’re giving me the same customer service you’d give anyone else.”

She tensed and tried not to glare, by focusing awkwardly on my shoulder. “I apologize, sir. Let me show you to the batteries, OK?”

“Gee, thanks.”

She walked that way in a huff and I followed, a Marx brother following someone who told me to “walk this way.” I hoped I wouldn’t get misgendered everywhere we went. At the batteries she pointed, wheeled, and walked away without saying anything.

I noticed someone looking at Grime as he walked out the door, so I made enough noise to pull that person’s attention back to me. “Thanks for nothing, bitch! I’m not even going to buy your shit! I’m taking my business down the street!” She hustled out of sight, into a back room.

I started toward the door and the other cashier was glaring at me like daggers. “You better leave this store, sir, or we will call the cops!”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Jack!” I gave him the double deuce as I went. That was probably a bad idea, but felt right in the moment.

Grime whipped up to me and opened the passenger side door from inside. I hopped in, the cashier coming out to give me the business. Yeah, the double deuce was a mistake I wasn’t going to repeat. Grime drove fast enough to hopefully keep the man from clocking our license plate number.

He said, “Are you nuts? The distraction can stop when I’m out, can’t it? Shouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’ll do better next time. What did you get?”

“A wicked case of the heebie jeebies. Just a moment.” He pulled up to a red light, then reached back for the bag, handing it to me.

“This is the reason we should hit up multiple places. This isn’t enough.”

“I’m just doing everything you tell me and trusting it’ll work out, but why? This is gonna get me a record, baby. I can’t fuckin’ wait.”

“I can’t believe you’re gonna gripe about a little property crime while driving the way you do.”

“What? I stopped at the red. I hear in Kansas they consider red lights more of a polite suggestion than an absolute.”

“Why, you’re just a model citizen. I didn’t mean to impugn your righteous ways.”

The light turned green and he started out along the highway again. “Nyeh nyeh nyeh. So next time you’ll distract smaller?”

“If you’ll make less racket with the pills.”

“What? How loud was it?”

“It was loud. Like Carmen Miranda with maracas.”

“You think you can do better?”

“You know how bad the distraction game was?”

“How bad was it, Courtney?”

“The distraction game was so bad, I got misgendered twice and had a dude fixing to assault me.”

“Damn. Damn,” he got serious, “I should be doing that part.”

“No, I shouldn’t have mentioned the serious stuff. I can handle it. You learn and adapt, right?”

“Yeah, but--”

“I can guess what you’re going to say and I really don’t wanna talk about trans stuff with you, even if you’re a good boy. It’s just awkward. Like someone can be ninety-eight percent right and that two percent becomes maddening.”

“Mm, OK, I can see that. But seriously, if this hurts you, I’m taking over.”

“I need you on bag patrol. The guy at the front was watching you leave. Your white boy -ness bought you the seconds you needed to get out the door without getting caught with the goods.”

“You think?”

“I know. Here. I have a good feeling about this one.” I pointed to a ramshackle Safeway with garbage bags blowing around the parking lot.

“Good call.”

A few hours later, Grime stopped for lunch at Shari’s. He ordered fries and a chocolate milkshake and I ordered a steak salad with blue cheese dressing. He was drinking water, I was having coke.

When we were sitting at the table waiting for the food, I tried to relax my fluttering ragged nerves. A day of repeated confrontations, brushes with violence. In that dark booth, maybe I could forget it. The man sitting across from me sipped his water and regarded me with gentle grey eyes. Grime. His nose was five percent eagle beak, but more heroic than goofy looking. His cheeks were soft, but the stubble was beginning to come back from the daily abuse. His lips were firm and his teeth perfect in there.

I hadn’t thought about that before. Perfect teeth are an artifact of money, almost every time. Who raised this San Dimas commie? No doubt the kind of creeps that had once made Reagan governor of the state. But this was a gentle wolf boy. His dark hair had a few strands of silver. I think he figured out that I like it hanging out, so he lost the pony tail. Devilish.

I wanted to put my leg on his leg under the table. Lose my shoe, work my foot up to his thigh, see if I could reach closer. I imagined myself going for that dick and accidentally pushing my toes into his belly and it amused and aroused me at the same time. Maybe if we hit it again, I could ride on top and rub his body with both hands.

OR NOT. My foot hadn’t even inched that way. Exhaustion helped, but there was a queasy feeling of moral horror settling into me at the same time. It wouldn’t be a sin to get fucked here, not a bad thing in the least. But I couldn’t forget how I felt when I told Leimomi. My head sunk, my shoulders slumped. I felt that ice in my belly and stinging heat in my face and in my skull. I rubbed my forehead, made like I was having a headache. I wondered, if I was more headache prone, would that pain distract from feelings like this?

He looked at me with concern. “What’s the matter, Courtney? My offer still stands.”

I shook my head and fake smiled. “Nothing, just a headache.”

“If you say so.”

I felt like I wanted to say something but not anything that would lead to particulars. I puzzled it out a few moments and came up with, “Why do fools fall in love, Graeme? Sometimes people get really emotionally invested in making something happen, or in some crazy dream about something that was never gonna happen, and then… Sad. Shouldn’t people be able to manage their feelings?”

“Oh? What brought this on?”

“No one is in love with you, dude.”

“Heh, a boy can dream, can’t he?”

“Besides, I just mean it generally,” I lied. “So yeah, why can’t people check themselves before they wreck themselves? Heartwise.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t fallen uncontrollably in love since I was in high school, so it’s easy to imagine it’s all hormones or something. I heard that teenagers have thinner coats of insulation on their neurons, which makes them more impulsive.”

“So why would a grown-ass adult do the same thing?”

“Lots of things can mess with impulse control. You hear it in drug commercials, like the stop-smoking pills whose side effects can include gambling and suicide. Brain damage. Hormones can change a lot during a person’s life, I’m sure you know.”

“Let’s say my abstract subject of conversation love fool isn’t a slave to nature. Let’s say there’s hope. Let’s hope there’s hope. How do they rein it in?”

The food came. The waiter said, “Enjoy. I’ll be back to see if you need anything else, OK?”

I said, “Thank you.”

Grime said, “Thanks,” and resumed the subject without missing a beat. “That’s the trick, isn’t it? We all have to learn that because all our songs and stories are about love and sex and romance, but no one tells you how to approach it realistically. How to give yourself permission to get over a broken heart, or anything. Probably we all have to figure that stuff out for ourselves. I think I did OK. You’re not so sure about yourself?”

“It’s about someone else, man.”

“Of course, I meant, you don’t feel sure because you asked me about what advice to give them, right?”

“Oh yeah, right.” The salad dressing had come in a little ceramic dish and I glopped it onto the leaves unceremoniously.

He finished a sip of the shake with an unconscious “mm” and continued. “So if I’m thinking back, trying to remember, what did I tell myself, that helped me stop feeling heartbroken? After the worst time I resolved to always withhold a bit of myself when I go into a new relationship. To always have something that’s me, that’s… I don’t know, maybe it’s kind of hard or cold. But it was useful. Now keeping a level head about infatuation is just second nature to me. Not that it’s always easy, but I can get through it.”

I ate a single leaf while he talked. When he was finished I said, “That’s like a love prophylactic. You use it to keep from falling hard. But what if you’ve already fallen, and prevention is not an option?”

“That’s just going to be brutal no matter what. But your love fool has to realize they aren’t always going to feel the same way. That’s one thing in life that can always get better. I know you’ve seen movies that say the exact opposite, but fuck that stuff. Life should be healthy and happy.”

“Maaan, I should fall in love with you, Graeme, but I won’t. You’re such a good boy. I hope your parents are proud.”

“Haha, oh that burns. I think they’ll be happier when I somehow magically pull a million dollar startup out of my ass. How ab-- mm, whatever. Want a french fry?”

“No thanks. Graeme?”

“Yes--”

My cell phone rang. It was Momi. My heart skipped a beat.

“I have to take this.” I stood up, tripping over myself and staggered out the front door. Having forgotten my hat and sunglasses at the table, I was as blind as I was sad and twisted. “Hello?”

“Courtney, hey. Richie is in jail. We could use help.”

Oh fuck, I thought. It’s all going down. Everyone is gonna get busted. Oh god, Marcie… She’s gonna kill me. She should kill me. Poor Richie. Fuck!

“Courtney?”

“Um, yeah, that’s horrible.” I had to plug my unused ear completely against the noise of the highway. “What the hell happened?”

“We ran into Walter. Marcie and Richie beat him up but he beat them up too. And the cops...”

“Beat Richie too, didn’t they? Is he alright? Fucking pig bastards.”

“I wish I knew. Maybe Grime can help them? With his, uh, white guy thing.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. We’ll be there in no time. Give me an address...”

It was a massive relief. I couldn’t deal with it being about us in any way. I got my head on straight in a hurry. It was time to save the day.

***

Read the next chapter here.

#Rent is Theft #part 10 #nanowrimo april 2018

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researchpaperservices-us-uk-blog · 7 years

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The Most Beautiful Girl in the World

She is the most handsome miss in the world. She has long unsporting blonde wavy hair. Her hide is as smooth as silk, almost comparable a porcelain doll, her cheeks are a fortunate pink and she has light freckles on her nose and under her eyes. Her make a subject is the most breathtaking station to see, it lights the room and fills the darkest dwellings with a comely glow that radiates from her. Her smiling leaves me breathless, speechless, softheartedness pounding, deep breaths, and shaky hands. Her smile is truly a beautiful smile. Her voice is soft as a pass rain. Her achieve gave me chills, it do the hair on my arm stand up. Her lips entangle like the inside of a rose and her smell made me feel as if I were at home afterward being away for a long time, being in her presence gave me a find of safety and that for once cypher else in the world seemed to matter.\nIt totally started with a follow on Instagram, I was entrying through my notifications and she popped up asking to follow me. I accepted the request not intending for it to blossom into anything. I began to scroll through her photos. I was astound by her outer beauty. I was drawn in by her hazel eyes and captured by her smile. We began to text, our conversations would go on for unceasing hours. We never ran out of things to confabulation about. I felt like I had known her my hale life and we have scarcely been separated, so we had a hole to catch up on. We at long last met in August of 2013. It was a scorching hot summers day, the light was smile in through my window. The sun reflected off her car into my window as she pulled into my driveway, blinded by the glare I hie to my front door to calculate her with a bouquet of blank picked golden sunflowers. As she strolled up she was trying to hide her start blushing smile poop her hands. My emotions were racing because that was the cutest thing I have ever seen. She came proximate a little mortified from her shyness but we were face to face, despite my anxiousness and jitteriness I pulle...

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stereksecretsanta · 7 years

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Merry Christmas, @welshwoman1988!

I was so happy when I saw your likes involved royalty AUs and I had such a good time writing this. I hope you enjoy it!

Read on AO3

*****

A Bud Beginning to Flower

Stiles wishes he didn’t have the weight of his own nonexistent marriage hanging over him when he should be enjoying the celebration of his best friend’s wedding finally coming to pass after his betrothal to Princess Allison when they were twelve. Instead, his head has been filled with all the potential matches who will be in attendance and he’s just glad his father will be staying behind to govern the country to give him some reprieve.

For the first time, he actually considers Scott’s single-mindedness a blessing as he’s absorbed by the distraction of his wedding. Not once has he asked about the pressure Stiles is receiving since he arrived a week ago, and Stiles is more than happy to keep it that way.

He’d arrived earlier than most, his friendship to Scott meaning he’ll always have a room open for him. Most other guests will be staying in the city or are already local, but he knows he won’t be the only foreign prince in attendance.

The Hales in the north have sent their crown princess, Laura, along with her husband Jordan, younger brother Derek and youngest sister Cora. They haven't arrived yet but the city is starting to simmer at the news that they're close considering it’s partially down to the Hales that this wedding almost never went ahead at all.

The rest of the blame goes to Allison’s family, specifically her aunt, Princess Katherine, and grandfather, King Gerard, who had been hatching a plot to kill the Hales once Katherine wed Prince Derek. Derek would have been the only one spared, all those in his way to the throne slaughtered, and in his grief Katherine would have governed in his stead.

When the plot was discovered, it split the Argent family down the middle and almost threw their Kingdom into civil war with the Hales eager for bloodshed on either side until Chris managed to assure them he and Allison had had no involvement.

It was all brought to an end when Derek managed to convince Katherine he shared her ambitions, then pivoted at the last moment to betray them.

At least, that’s the story that has been fed to the masses. But there are rumours abound of Derek’s involvement, that he had his own eye on the throne, that switching sides was to save his own neck when he realised he was on the losing one.

Stiles knows to believe all gossip is foolish, but he also believes you can never be too cautious, especially in his position.

With Derek’s engagement to Katherine six feet under, it’s no secret that he’s looking for a match too, a strong alliance to replace the one that was lost — something Stiles’ father has been keen to remind him of.

But even before the Argents, rumours were widespread of the Prince’s undesirable character. According to most, your eyes will want for nothing but your mind will die of thirst, a passionless bore with less personality than a plank of wood.

“You’ve never met the man, Stiles,” his father has grown fond of reminding him. Stiles is glad he isn’t here now to say it in his ear as the Hale delegation rolls up to the palace.

He’s not going to let himself be lulled into complacency by a pretty face.

And what a pretty face it is. That much he won’t deny.

With black hair against tan skin, extraordinary green eyes and a beard accentuating the devastating cut of his cheekbones, Stiles doesn't think he can be faulted for his lips going dry.

Cora shares the dark hair of her brother but Laura’s is a brilliant gold and she's just as beautiful as the stories Stiles has heard tell of. Their clothing is light compared to everyone else present, but this must feel like a heatwave compared to what they’re used to in the north.

After greeting Scott and then Allison (who receives tight hugs from Laura and Cora), the Hales turn to Stiles.

“Prince Mieczyslaw,” the Crown Princess greets, holding out a hand for Stiles to kiss the back of. She stumbles over the pronunciation, something Stiles is used to. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Princess Laura. The pleasure is mine.”

He and Jordan exchange a firm handshake and then Derek is next. Stiles is immediately struck by how warm his skin is, sure his hands could heat his bed in winter better than a warming pan.

“Prince Mieczysław,” Prince Derek greets and Stiles doesn’t blink in surprise at only the perfect pronunciation. He was expecting the man's voice to be gruff and curt (and honestly wasn't expecting to hear it at all after the rumours of his reticence) but instead it's lighter, gentle, and Stiles feels his stomach swoop like he’s missed a stair.

“Prince Derek,” Stiles returns. His surprise clogs his throat and the greeting comes out more like he's a swooning maiden. Thankfully, the Prince doesn’t seem to notice.

Little seven-year-old Cora is next in line, peering up at him from where she stands clutching at her big brother's hand.

“Where’s your crown?” she asks in that blunt manner most children seem to possess.

“Cora,” Derek chides, his voice smoothed further with fondness.

“I just want to know if he has a pretty crown!”

Stiles crouches down. “I bet it’s not as pretty as yours, Your Highness,” he says, taking her hand and kissing it.

Cora flushes with pride and beams. She tugs on her brother's hand, looking up at him as she extends her other to point at Stiles, finger an inch away from his face. “I want you to marry him.”

Stiles gapes but manages to contain his expression after a moment while Derek’s impressive eyebrows climb almost into his hair.

“Cora, that's— that's not how these things work.”

“But I like him,” she says, stubbornly.

Stiles stays silent, biting at his lip to hide a smile as he takes enjoyment in seeing Derek get so flustered.

“You know it’s not a matter of who you may or may not like but of politics and what alliances the marriage will bring.”

Stiles tries not to visibly bristle at the veiled insult.

In comparison to the Hales, the McCalls and the Argents, his country is small, not much more than an inkblot on a map. Though they have no great army of their own and would rely on their alliance with Scott for protection, they’re not without worth. His country is home to fertile land and they have the monopoly over the Ley river trade route where it runs through the centre of the capital. It might not be enough to procure a marriage of the magnitude of Scott and Allison, but it will make a handsome deal nonetheless. That a prince of Derek’s status would not think of him twice is no surprise but to have it implied in his own words has Stiles’ skin prickling.

He rises to his feet, face blank of anger but also of his earlier cheer. The absence doesn’t go unnoticed by Derek who’s eyes widen.

“I did not mean—”

“You must be tired after your journey. Scott has your quarters ready for you.” He bites his tongue as soon as the words are out. His casual address of their host just proves to Derek the only reason he’s here is because he rides on Scott’s coattails.

Derek is stunned into silence and Scott invites them inside before he has a chance to recover.

Perhaps after this story, his father won't be so quick to suggest the Hale prince.

With everything that requires Scott’s attention, it’s no surprise that Stiles doesn’t see him much in the lead up to the wedding. Disappointing, but not unexpected.

He spends his time riding outside the city walls or absolutely slaughtering anyone who dares face him at chess or staving off an alarming number of invitations to dinner and fluttered eyelashes. He supposes the stories will serve as fodder to keep his father happy but his patience will soon wear thin and Stiles will be required to choose a match from one of the many suitors.

He barely encounters Derek aside from their paths crossing at breakfast. The prince is always stiff-backed at the table, only speaking if someone else initiates a conversation first and even then his answers are clipped. By the third morning, no one bothers to engage him at all besides his sisters. Stiles hasn’t exchanged words with him since their introduction other than stony ‘Good morning’s and has no intention to change that anytime soon.

Beyond that, Stiles only ever sees him from afar, usually whenever he finds himself gazing out of a window. He often spies him taking strolls through the gardens with his sisters, swinging Cora effortlessly from one arm, taking lunch beneath the trees. If not in the gardens, he’s practicing the sword with a handful of Scott’s knights, flowing from one form to the next in a mesmerising dance. It takes a formidable effort to tear his eyes away before he’s caught staring.

Two days before the wedding, Stiles is approached by Laura and asked if he’d like to accompany her, Jordan and Derek to see a play in the city in the evening. In honour of their King’s impending nuptials, His Majesty’s Theatre has been putting on a performance of The Dove’s Nest everyday for the past week and it will apparently last out the month. A play is one of Stiles’ favourite pastimes, a passion of his ever since he was a child, and though The Dove’s Nest is a tired choice for the occasion of a wedding and he doesn’t much relish spending an evening in Derek’s vicinity, he readily agrees to attend.

Stiles rides alone in his carriage to the theatre, sliding down the window to watch the passing buildings. His thoughts are lulled by the rhythmic clop of hooves, the creak of tavern signs and their already rowdy patrons. The sun is setting, casting the bricks in an orange glow. It won’t be long until the lamps are lit.

The carriage eventually draws to a halt and Stiles waits for the footman to open the door and fold out the step. He thanks him and joins the Hales in front of the theatre, a grand pale-stoned building dwarfing those around it. His guards climb from the back of the carriage to shadow him while the footman and driver take the carriage further down the street to wait until he wishes to return to the palace.

Inside, they’re led through a blanketing haze of pipe smoke and chatter to the royal box on the second level, refreshments already waiting for them. It’s a bit of a squeeze for the four of them with the ornate chairs arranged inside but Stiles ends up in the rightmost chair, Derek to his left. He allows himself an internal groan. If beside Laura he might have a chance at some conversation but instead Derek is rigid beside him and he knows he’d have more fun watching a candle burn down than trying to engage him.

The angle of their chairs has their knees brushing and Stiles is reminded again of Derek’s warmth. He distracts himself by casting his gaze around the theatre, at the elaborate gilded friezes looking down from the ceiling, to the chandelier hanging beneath with every candle lit, to the orchestra pit in front of the stage where rich red curtains fringed with gold are drawn closed in the centre.

“I wonder which variation of the story we’ll see tonight,” Stiles comments.

“Yes,” is all Derek says in return.

Even Laura leans forward to give him a judgemental eye and a glance at Derek shows a crease between his eyebrows deepening. He makes no attempt to further the conversation though so Stiles sits back in his seat to await the start of the play.

Thankfully, he doesn’t need to wait long.

As expected, this version of the play differs slightly from renditions performed in Stiles’ home country and picking out all the similarities and differences makes it a more enjoyable viewing than he’d been expecting. Even the masks differ, the heroine’s here big-eyed and full-lipped where Stiles is used to daintier features and rosy cheeks.

“Well that was delightful,” Laura praises when the curtains have closed on the final encore and their palms are buzzing from their applause.

“It was very well done, though I would have chosen Orelius myself.”

“And insult their King? The Dove’s Nest is traditional.” Derek looks at him for the first time all evening, turning his body in his chair to face him.

Stiles turns to Derek in surprise at the display of such feeling.

“Safe,” Stiles corrects, something inside him awakening at the challenge. “Orelius has an element of nostalgia for me, I’ll admit—”

“—and in your rosy memories it needs to stay,” Derek teases, a twitch of a smile about his lips. “If we’re talking about a break in tradition, then A Star Away would be better than Orelius, even if they went with the version that ends in suicide.”

Stiles stares at Derek’s burgeoning grin and twinkling eyes, speechless at the hyperbole. It only takes a second for him to recover, fighting a smile of his own. “A Star Away was written not two years past and is already outdated. Orelius is timeless and it's not just by chance that it’s endured for so many years.”

“Endured? ” Derek repeats, incredulously, and then launches into an impassioned speech detailing every way and reason why Stiles is wrong. Hogwash, every word of it, and Stiles tells him so.

At one point, they manage to stop arguing long enough to agree By Candlelight is the biggest abomination to have graced the stage in the past ten years, and then they begin discussing their favourite plays — and arguing all over again. When Derek mentions journeying to the east and witnessing a performance by the Otokonai, Stiles nearly falls out of his chair in his eagerness to hear more despite his envy. Tales of the all-female theatre troupe are all he’s had to go on and he dreams about seeing a performance of his own. He hangs on his every word as Derek describes the way they performed without dialogue, just conveying emotion through body language and music and masks.

Derek’s story brings them to the topic of travelling theatre troupes which begins another argument over the best play for a street performance and Stiles takes great affront to his dismissal of Fair Weather.

“You have no imagination,” Stiles sniffs. “And I take offense at your assessment. Whimsical it may be, but it’s merely a polished veneer concealing commentary on the state of censorship in the South.”

“I may be biased,” Derek concedes. “It is Cora’s favourite and there was a time where I had to watch it performed every day for weeks. It’s a good thing she isn’t with us. Though I beg of you, don’t let her hear you mention it. A troupe gifted her a pair of ears after their performance and she almost got away with wearing them to Laura’s wedding instead of her crown.”

Stiles lets a laugh bubble up at Derek’s pained face. His grimace becomes a tentative smile but he ducks his head before Stiles gets a proper look, clearing his throat.

“Speaking of my sisters,” Derek says with a frown over his shoulder. “I don’t know where Laura could have gotten to.”

Stiles starts at only just realising they’re alone. Had he really been so immersed in their debate?

“The Princess and Lord Parrish have already departed, Your Highness,” a guard answers when Derek inquires after her. “They did say farewell but...” He keeps his eyes averted and shifts uncomfortably.

Stiles resolutely doesn’t look at Derek, his face heating. From the corner of his eye he can see Derek doing the same.

“I suppose we should return to the palace ourselves,” Stiles murmurs and they both get to their feet, looking anywhere but at each other.

Stiles feels a little like he’s been doused in cold water, the magic of their conversation slipping through his fingers as Derek returns to his taciturn self for a silent journey in the carriage.

At the palace, Derek is first to climb out, turning to offer Stiles his hand. It’s just as warm as the last time Stiles held it, and in the creeping chill of the night air, Stiles almost wants to hold it to his cheek.

The silence holds until they reach a fork in their paths, their quarters in separate wings of the castle. Stiles is first to break it.

“Goodnight, Prince De—”

“I want to apologise for my perceived rudeness when we met,” Derek interrupts, and Stiles stares, mouth still forming Derek’s name. “I did not mean what I said. At least, not in the way you understood it. It wasn’t your undesirability I was speaking of, but my own.” A humourless smile twists his lips. “I know the things that people say about me. About the Argents, and my character. My faults shouldn’t taint someone as honourable and well-loved as yourself.”

Stiles isn’t sure what expression his face is showing, so numb he is with shock. The one thing he is certain of though is that his mouth is still hanging open in a highly undignified manner.

“I hope you can forgive me,” Derek says, his gaze so intent that Stiles can feel how important this is to him like a weight pressing on his chest.

“Of course,” he manages to murmur, and Derek smiles, small and private and relieved. Stiles’ stomach flips when Derek takes his hand and raises it to kiss the back of it. It’s an unusual gesture between two men and it makes Stiles’ cheeks go hot.

“Goodnight, Prince Mieczysław,” Derek murmurs, again with the perfect pronunciation that has Stiles’ knees going weak.

“Stiles,” he breathes, before he can really think about the permission he’s bestowing.

Derek’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly, a look of wonder and the barest hint of a smile crossing his face like Stiles has just given him a gift to treasure. No one has ever thought of him so highly before.

This is all too soon.

“Goodnight, Derek,” he chokes out, and turns to stride down the hallway to his quarters. Only when he's shut the door and is leaning heavily against it does he realise he forgot Derek’s title.

His heart begins to pound as he stands there, at the memory of having those eyes so intent on him, drinking in his every thought and opinion. Stiles had been just as eager to hear all that Derek had to say, to argue with him some more.

Even now, he thinks about how he didn’t get to finish detailing his love for Orelius and is of half a mind to stride over to Derek’s rooms and make him see sense on the subject, talk until the sun is rising.

As he lies in bed, his thoughts turn to the rumours of Derek he'd filed away over the years, of his reputation as a bore. He thinks of all the breakfasts they've shared since arriving, of that moment before the play began. But then he remembers that moment Derek turned to him, like a spark had ignited behind his eyes, a bud beginning to flower. He was animated and engaged and Stiles can tell he only scratched the surface of what is clearly a vast well of knowledge. Gone was the broody glower he directs at all but his sisters and it’s clear you just need to know how to break through that harsh exterior.

But most hurtful of all, he thinks of the rumours of Derek’s involvement in the plot to murder his own family. Just by the memory of watching him chide his little sister, Stiles could tell there was no malice in him, without needing the evidence of every encounter since.

It makes his heart ache to think of all the cruel whisperings Derek has to endure, moreso when he remembers his own inclination to believe it. Despite his insistence to make his own judgement, in the back of his own mind, he’d already assumed the worst.

That burn of shame follows him into sleep and Derek is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes and he lies there for a few long minutes carefully not examining how far behind he’s left his rationality in regards to the other prince.

Laura finds him at breakfast with an apology over her and Jordan’s departure the night before, a sparkle in her eyes.

“We did say our farewells, but you were more engrossed in my brother,” she teases, and Stiles cheeks flame despite how hard he tries to stay aloof.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I was just astounded someone could be so deluded,” he sniffs, scraping some butter onto a knife. “Someone had to educate him.” Perhaps he would have been a bit more convincing if he didn’t drop the knife with a clatter when Derek entered the dining room a moment later. Laura lifts a hand to her mouth, but it’s not enough to stifle her snort of laughter.

“Good morning, Stiles.” Derek’s voice is no more than a murmur as he takes the seat beside him, like his use of Stiles’ nickname is a secret for them alone, and Stiles nearly drops his knife for a second time. It shouldn’t be sending thrills through him the way that it is.

“Good morning… Derek.”

Derek smiles, head ducked, and Stiles can't take his eyes off him.

When the Hales invite him to explore the gardens later that morning, he eagerly agrees compared to all the requests from others that he’s turned down during his visit. The icy wall erected between them when they first met continues to thaw as they linger behind Laura and Jordan and Cora, and Stiles is only too aware that the three of them would be considered chaperones in this situation.

Still, he manages to continue their discussion of playwrights in a more relaxed manner now they’re in the open air and sunshine instead of the intensity the cramped box at the theatre had brought. But the conversation eventually shifts to other topics, to childhood memories to their shared appreciation of chess to food. A wild bubble of hope rises in his chest when Derek tells him of the fare they serve at his home and his tentative suggestion that Stiles visit some time to try it himself.

Later that evening, after an almost inseparable day they've spent together, the desire to stay up until the early hours is strong where they have their heads bent close together between two arm chairs in one of the palace’s many sitting rooms. Laura ends up being the voice of reason; they need to be up early for the wedding.

As a surprise to no one, the wedding is a beautiful ceremony, the white drapery and bouquets and beaming sunlight almost as blinding as Scott and Allison’s smiles throughout.

Stiles saw the green jacket Derek was wearing when he arrived, the perfect shade of green to bring out his eyes, and he’s glad to be sitting further down the same pew or he wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off him for the entire ceremony.

Once it’s over and Scott and Allison have headed to the palace balcony to greet their people, they can finally get to the part that everyone has been anticipating: an entire day of feasting.

There’s a sense of peace in the air, like everyone knows the recent turbulence is truly over, with the Hale’s present a symbol of their blessing and friendship with the remaining Argents. With any luck, it will last for decades to come.

Stiles sits at the long table at the head of the hall in a seat of honour. The Hales sit at the opposite end of the same table and the only sight he catches of Derek is when he chances craning his neck and watches him help to spoon food onto Cora’s plate where her arms are too short to reach. It makes his heart melt all the more.

Once most people have eaten their fill — for now — music starts and Stiles is bombarded by a never-ending stream of suitors with requests to dance. While he could get away with excuses when asked to dinner or out riding, now he has no choice but to accept each one. But he can give none of his partners the attention they deserve. Instead, with every dizzying turn, he keeps an eye on Derek stubbornly seated at the table.

It seems no one has approached him with a request to dance and his furrowed brow speaks of a dark mood. When Laura squeezes his elbow he shakes her off, lips forming words Stiles can’t make out. She’s persistent though, and whatever she’s saying has Derek eventually slamming his palms to the table and rising to his feet. Stiles can't catch what he says in return, and moments later, his attention is pulled back to the woman in his arms as the dance comes to an end.

All of the partners exchange bows and curtsies and when Stiles turns to find Derek again, he nearly walks straight into him.

The guests around Stiles go quiet as Derek holds out a hand, palm up. “May I have this next dance, Prince Mieczysław?” he asks through a clenched jaw.

Stiles flushes hot and cold all over at everyone’s eyes on him, but their scandalised faces make him bristle.

“You may,” he responds after a deep breath to steady his voice, taking Derek’s hand in his.

His legs are trembling, weak like he’s just run a mile, as Derek leads him further out onto the floor. Derek’s glower is doing nothing for his confidence.

As they begin the steps of the dance, pressing their palms together, Stiles feels his nerves begin to fade, the room shrinking around them until they're the only two in it, the only two who exist.

It sends a jolt through him when they reach the part of the dance that requires them to switch partners, the world suddenly coming back into focus. He’s glad at least that Derek looks as dazed as he feels.

They step apart and Stiles finds a woman in his arms, a golden butterfly pin in her hair, who dances with grace. He feels dizzy with each rotation across the floor, trying to find Derek, and when they finally return to each other it’s a relief. Derek actually has a small smile playing about his lips and Stiles isn't surprised that he does too.

The dance begins to slow and they reluctantly return to their starting positions. Stiles is out of breath and not just from the dance. He already regrets the loss of contact and craves more of it.

The room applauds and more people stand to join the next dance. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see people still waiting for their turn with him, but Derek hasn’t let go of his hand.

“Walk with me?” There’s apprehension in Derek’s gaze and Stiles squeezes his hand tighter.

“To the gardens?” he asks and Derek nods.

He releases Stiles’ hand, leading the way from the hall, and they walk in silence, the raucous chatter and music of the party fading behind them. The air is fresh on Stiles’ face, and after the way his heart was pounding just now, it’s a relief to take deep gulps of it even if having Derek beside him means he can’t entirely calm himself.

It’s not until they’re almost halfway around one of the paths, leaving other revellers taking a breather far behind, that Derek speaks.

“I did not expect—” he begins, voice loud in the silence between them. He must be conscious of it too because he hesitates before trying again. “I did not expect I could meet someone who would make me feel as you have in such a short amount of time.”

Stiles jerks to a halt, speechless.

“I know I did not make the best first impression. I’m sure you thought I was stuck up and unpleasant.”

“You are.”

Derek’s eyes widen as if Stiles’ words had struck him across the face. His expression goes blank, closed off, and he straightens from where they were leaning close.

“You carry yourself like you’re sitting on a throne of needles and look down your nose at those you deem unworthy of your time.”

Derek’s spine gets stiffer and stiffer as Stiles talks. “We should get back to the feast,” he says, already striding away. “My sister is probably—”

“But you’re also charming,” Stiles says after him and Derek freezes. “And knowledgeable, and you dote on your little sister too much, and you have a wicked sense of humour that not enough people appreciate. Or that not enough people are privileged enough to witness because of the throne of needles,” he adds contemplatively.

Derek has turned back to face him, his mouth open and exposing his too-long front teeth, so at odds with the sharp planes of his face and his usually piercing gaze. Now, he’s staring at Stiles like he’s never seen him before, like he’s never heard such compliments, and Stiles’ heart aches in his chest at the thought. Derek is all of those things and more, and Stiles feels a fresh burst of fury at the rumours, the rumours that had coloured his view of him before they ever met.

Derek finally finds his voice. “And you’re an insufferable know-it-all.”

Stiles grins.

“Your taste in playwrights is atrocious, and your mouth— You never close it and it’s been haunting my every waking and dreaming moment since I arrived, and if I may—”

Derek has gravitated closer and closer, so close Stiles can feel his breath on his lips and their noses are almost brushing. Stiles can hear his heartbeat thudding in his ears as he takes a deep breath.

“You may.”

Derek closes the final distance between them and they meet in a kiss that feels long overdue. Derek’s beard scratches against his chin and he’s struck once more by how warm he is, how he yearns to have no layers between them to just feel that warmth against him, to bask in it.

Despite the serenity of the moment, there’s still worry on Derek’s face when he pulls back.

“I know your father will never approve of me-”

Stiles holds a finger to his lips. “My father took to reminding me of your single status every day leading up to this visit. It seems he’s never had any doubt over your character.”

“But you did.” There’s no accusation in his voice but it hurts all the same.

“Yes. Though I am ashamed to admit it.”

Derek shakes his head. “Perhaps if I had possessed a bit more of the same cynicism, my family would never have found themselves in their position.”

Stiles takes his hand. “No one suspected, Derek.”

Derek kisses the back of his hand again and this time, Stiles has no intention to flee.

Instead, he returns the gesture, and Derek laughs. It’s a bright thing, illuminating their little corner of the gardens, and Stiles reaches up to cup his cheek, feeling the rasp of his stubble and the tension of his smile.

It’s a long while before they make it back to the feast and if the looks on all the guests faces at their disheveled appearances are anything to go by, Stiles is going to find himself at the centre of more than a few scandalous rumours of his own.

As long as Derek is at his side, he’ll welcome each and every one.

#welshwoman1988 #stereksanta14 #*fic17 #*gifts17

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