#and probably key someone’s car if they pissed him off enough

[melhekhelmurkun]

There are two wolves inside me. One is the urge to write Boromir as a juvenile delinquent in and out of reform schools, the other is the knowledge that he’d be straight-A star student captain of the soccer/wrestling team

#because I KNOW he’d be every teacher’s favorite even though he seems like a blockheaded jock #and he’s totally a straight A student because of his perfectionist habits due to Denethor’s high expectations of him #(classic older sibling syndrome) #but also there’s another part of me that’s like but he totally got up to some stupid shit #like he would so get into fights with people #and probably key someone’s car if they pissed him off enough #idk #that’s just the vibe I get #I can see him as the cool older brother pulling up outside the house in a leather jacket with a black eye or broken nose #fresh outta juvie #‘sup what’d I miss’ #lord of the rings #boromir #fanfiction #fic writing

[hopelessrromantix]

kinktober day 10 boot riding

daddy kink, amab reader yes ill post the missing days i swear sjdkf

cis women dni

The longer you stayed at a party, the more boring it got.

Sure, getting drunk and high and fucking around with your classmates was a good time. But after hours of huddling together with sweaty drugged up teenagers and having generic music blasted into your ears, it got a bit boring.

But Billy always found a way to make it more entertaining. Normally by pulling off a rather impressive keg stand. For once, he’d offered to be the designated driver (mostly because you’d done it for the past four parties and refused to do it again), so you were downing your second drink, talking to some junior you barely knew. The buzz of a high was clouding your head, though it wasn’t enough to impair your judgment.

But apparently your boyfriend felt like pissing you off tonight.

Eventually the junior wandered off, probably to flirt with someone interested. Billy, on the other hand, was chatting up some girl from your math class. You didn’t remember her name, but you most certainly remembered the way she talked to Billy.

She gave a fake laugh, making sure to lean forward and give him a decent view of her cleavage. Not that you blamed her for trying to sleep with your boyfriend. Billy was pretty, and it’s not like she knew he had a boyfriend. So no, you didn’t hold any resentment toward the girl.

Billy, on the other hand, was in a world of hurt.

He had every chance to turn her down. Every chance to make up some half-assed excuse or just plain tell her he wasn’t into it. But no. He joked and gave her some cheesy pick-up line. The brat even had the nerve to look your way while he was doing so, giving you a wink.

You watched for a minute longer, waiting for him to make some excuse to leave. But when it was obvious he had no plans of doing so, you decided to step in for him.

“C’mon Hargrove, you’re my ride home.” Luckily your head was clear enough to make walking out easy.

Billy frowned, trying to look as disappointed as possible. “Already? But I was having fun!” The girl next to him looked sad as well, as if begging you to let him stay longer.

“Sorry, I gotta get up early tomorrow,” You said, shrugging. Tomorrow was Saturday, neither you nor Billy had anything to do. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Fine, buzzkill.”

Billy, tap dancing on your last nerve, gave the girl a wink, causing her to let out an airy giggle. You rolled your eyes, stomping out of the house. You could hear Billy mumble what was most certainly a sarcastic comment under his breath.

You sat in the passenger seat the second he opened the door, waiting as he slid into the driver’s seat a second later.

After a second of him realizing you weren’t going to speak, he started driving, the music from the party fading into the background as he did so.

“Your mom and that bastard home?” You knew the answer was no. He’d made quite a big deal about getting the house to himself while Neil dragged his step-mom and Max on a ‘family outing’. Even with Max asking, Billy was left home alone.

“No, why?” He asked, glancing over to you before his eyes returned to the road. He was perfectly aware of ‘why’, you knew that much.

“Gonna let me stay over, pretty boy?” You asked, your tone low. He nodded, quickly taking a turn to head toward his house.

The trip was short and Billy got out of the car almost immediately after you arrived. You chuckled at how eager he was, fumbling with his keys in an attempt to get in quicker.

You followed closely, heading to Billy’s room without much hesitation.

The second you got in, you closed the door, pressing Billy up against a wall.

“You got some fuckin’ nerve, Hargrove,” you spoke quietly and quickly, though you knew he heard you from how he shivered. “You tryna get my attention, or just tryna whore around with some poor girl, hm?”

He shook his head rapidly, gulping down a breath.

Billy tried his hand at being a brat often. Always teasing you, getting your attention in public. But the second you were behind closed doors, he practically melted.

“Words, baby boy.”

“No, Daddy.”

God he knew what buttons to press.

“Then why were you flirting?” You spoke softly, loving how his eyes glazed over with lust when you did so. “Giving her hope for no reason. That just seems mean, baby.”

He made a noise of disagreement, shaking his head again. “Didn’t mean to, just wanted your attention.”

You chuckled. “No, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you slammed your lips into his before he could. You took over the kiss quickly. His arms twined around your neck, one of yours on his hip and the other gripping his hair. You gave a soft tug to his hair, forcing a loud moan out of his throat.

You slotted one thigh between his legs, giving him the chance to messily rut against you. Both your pants were tight, his jeans no doubt uncomfortable at this point.

“Pleeease just fuck me.” He was practically begging, arms tightening around you. “Please, I’m sorry for flirting with her, I won’t do it again.”

You both knew damn well he’d do it again.

“I don’t think I feel like forgiving you yet, baby.” He huffed at your words, hips still moving against your clothed thigh.

“How about this,” You suggested. You placed your hands on his shoulders, lowering him to his knees and placing your boot between his legs. “You cum in under two minutes, and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t remember your damn name.”

He nodded rapidly, head collapsing into your leg.

He moved his hands towards his jeans, only stopping when you firmly questioned what he was doing.

"I can't use my hands?" He asked, looking slightly hopeful. As if he'd get off that easy.

“If you really want me to fuck you, you can cum like this.”

He paused for a moment. “Like ‘this’?”

You smirked, tilting his head up slightly with one finger. “You think you can cum in your jeans for me?”

He shivered, nodding fervently.

"Good boy."

He started off slow, moving his hips against the firm leather of your boot. It was just enough stimulation for his sensitive cock. He was burying his face into your jeans, mouthing at your dick over the fabric. You just let him, watching as he desperately tried to get you to force your cock down his throat.

"One minute left." He whimpered.

His thrusts sped up, messily humping your boot in an attempt to get off. Barely decipherable mumbles of "please" "Daddy" and "more" tumbled out his lips, the words jumbled together and high pitched.

"You gonna cum, whore?" You asked, spitting out the term as if it was his name. He moaned, nodding.

"Please can I? Please Daddy? Wanna cum for you so you'll fuck me, please?"

You'd barely said yes before he buried his face into your thigh, hips stuttering and slowing. Cum slowly seeped through the fabric of his boxers, and suddenly he was thankful you'd waited until he was home to ruin him.

"Good job handsome," you said, leaving down and placing a surprisingly soft kiss on his forehead. "You get your reward now."

He was practically buzzing already.

#male reader #dom male reader #top male reader #x reader #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x male reader #kinktober 2023 #stranger things x male reader

[zerobaseonefics]

ZB1 reactions to their s/o not saying 'i love you' back (requested)

zb1 x gn!reader

genre : fluff, a bit angsty for matthew

warning : mention of a picnic with gyuvin but i don't mention food ‼️

note : this was supposed to include all of the members....... but bro they are 9 how do i come with 9 different ideas with everyone 💔 so i made it about jiwoong, hao, matthew, gyuvin, taerae !! i don't write with yujin, and i'll do something else with gunwook, ricky, and hanbin next time 🫶🏼 thanks to the anon who requested this i hope youll like it dear

• jiwoong

"i should be back at 8"

"hm."

jiwoong put his jacket on while you were sitting on the couch, your laptop in front of you as you were working on something. you were really focused and that's why you simply hummed when he talked to you. the dark-haired man took his key and was now finally ready to go.

"have a nice day, love you."

"hm."

jiwoong opened the door and went out, and he even walked a few step towards his car before realizing you didn't say it back. he squinted, wondering if he did anything wrong. maybe it's because you were busy? yeah, it was probably because of that. jiwoong took a look at his watch, and when he saw he had enough time to tease you a bit, he turned around to go back into the house.

you heard the door open, and you turned to look at it, frowning. who would enter? jiwoong just got out, it couldn't be him. at least, you thought, because your boyfriend was now leaning against the wall, arms crossed against his chest.

"what?" you asked, confused. "you forgot something?"

"i don't know... did you?"

a silence settled as you were staring at him in confusion, while his eyes were squinted, trying to intimidate you. when jiwoong saw you didn't understand what he was referring to, he decided to say it himself.

"i said i love you."

"did you really just come back to repeat it?"

"and you didn't say it back."

"...you're kidding me, right?" you said, tilting your head. you didn't expect him to come back for that.

"i will do it again and i'm counting on you to say it back this time." you scoffed. you found his demeanor funny and cute.

"why are you so attached to me saying i love you back?" you asked.

"what if i go out and then, i don't know, i get hit by a car or aliens attack me and i never come home. you wouldn't want me to die without hearing 'i love you' one last time, right?"

you sighed, faking annoyance, but jiwoong knew it was just an act and soon a cheeky smile was plastered to his face.

"i love you too, now go if you don't want to be late." your eyes went back to your laptop's screen, so you didn't see him come to kiss your cheek before finally leaving.

• hao

i don't see hao as someone who says i love you a lot. he shows his love through physical touch and acts of service, so him saying it is rare. it was never a problem for you two, because it made these words much more precious then if they were just a regular sentence.

that night, you were hanging out with zhang hao at his place for a movie marathon. you haven't seen each other for a while, and the movies were soon forgotten as zhang hao's hands started to roam on your body, missing the way your skin felt on his. hours passed as you were basking in each other warmth, passionate kisses exchanged, trying to pull the other closer to you.

it was getting more late as you started to feel tired. facing your back, zhang hao wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer before adjusting the cover on you. he kissed your temple and your eyes fluttered shut, ready to sleep. he confessed his love to you in a whisper, letting his head rest behind yours. you didn't reply because you were falling asleep. hao would have no particular reaction to the lack of answer, because even if it was a special thing for him to do, he never did it to hear it back. it was just because he needed to say it. you two just ended up sleeping like this.

• matthew

it was pissing you off. overall, matthew was a good boyfriend. he made sure to see you often, and he'd take you to your favorite places. he never forgets when you say you like something, so he can go and buy for you as a surprise, or make it for you himself. there were so many things you liked about matthew, but one was really getting on your nerves. it was nothing really bad, it's just the way he would never wash the dishes after he ate or drank something. if he drinks something, he just leaves the glass in the sink and tell himself he will wash it later. spoiler : he never does.

you told him many times about it, and he always said he understood and he will start doing it. and he never did. sure, it was nothing, but the problem wasn't the dishes anymore, it was the fact he wouldn't listen to you. after a tiring day, you kinda lost it when you saw the dishes in the sink, so you guys got into an argument over this.

"babe, i think you had a bad day, maybe we should let you rest first and then we'll talk about it later?" he proposed. you realized you've been taking out your bad mood on him and you sighed, feeling ever worse now. matthew could clearly tell you were going throught something, and he didn't want to make you feel stressed out about it.

"i love you", he said to reassure you, but you opened your mouth at the same time to say :

"i'll be in our room"

and then you left him here, in the kitchen. you didn't answer to his "i love you" because you just didn't hear him. but it got to his head: why didn't they respond? are they that angry? guilt started to build up in him, as he was sitting alone in the living room. it's true he should have listen to you in the first place... you might feel like he didn't care about what you disliked and he doesn't want to be better for you. and the fact you didn't say i love you back...

there it goes, matthew was overthinking everything now. what if you break up with him? should he go and talk to you?

hours passed, and you didn't come out of the room. it's not that you were still pissed, far from it, you was just ashamed of the fact you let your anger out on him for nothing and you were just too tired you couldn't come out of bed. matthew decided it was time for him to talk to you.

you heard the door open, not looking at who came in the door, because you knew it was him. he sat next to you on the bed where you were laying.

"do you..." he started but he couldn't finish. there were so many things matthew wanted to ask and he didn't know with what he should start. "do you feel better?"

"i'm sorry, i was tired, and i know it's no excuse, i shouldn't have let out everything on you."

hearing you apologize, matthew opened his arms for you to come in his embrace. accepting the hug, you snuggled close to him, letting a few tears roll down your eyes. "i love you", you said, and all his worries are gone. "i love you too."

• taerae

plucking the strings of his guitar, taerae played a new melody he created himself. you two were sitting in the music room of your university. you listened to him, heart eyes as his voice started to sing the lyrics he wrote earlier. your friend taerae always let you hear his songs first. for some reasons, you noticed that nowadays, his lyrics were more and more sweet, always talking about some muse he was crazy in love with. you started to take the hint a few days ago, but you were patiently waiting for the good moment to ask him out.

today's song was once again, a serenade. he was not looking at you, focused on playing his guitar. at least, this is what he was trying to make you think, he was just too shy to look at you. you appreciated the song, and you couldn't tell if it was good or if you liked it just because you were hoping it was about you.

the song was coming to an end, and taerae sang the last words looking at you : i love you. you started clapping for him with a huge smile.

"i love it! it's amazing, your songs are always good, taerae."

as much as he liked the praising, that was not the answer he wanted to hear.

"did you hear the last lyrics?"

"yeah?"

"...and what do you think about it?"

"they were cute!"

"should i sing them again?"

you nodded. taerae was wondering if the hint was not obvious enough, but he just started playing the last chorus again, this time looking at you the whole time. when he said "i love you again" with his singing voice, you once again didn't catch it. taerae sighed heavily.

"what's wrong?"

"i said 'i love you'!"

"yeah, that's the lyrics?" you frowned.

"that's a confession!" he blurted out.

the tip of his ears were getting red, and a smile was appearing on your face. he hid his face in his hands, and you took them off to take them in yours. "i love you too" you said, making him even more red.

• gyuvin

a sheepish smile on his face, a bag full of snack in his hands, gyuvin is looking at you who's sitting on the picnic blanket, arms crossed against your chest.

"hey y/n!"

"you're 15 minutes late."

"how about we say time is a social construction and we forget about that."

"..."

shoot. gyuvin knew this wouldn't work, and he'll probably kick gunwook when he go back to the dorms because it was his idea. gyuvin sat next to you on the ground, while you decided to ignore him for coming late on your date.

"come on, i'm sorry, this won't happen again." gyuvin sweetly says, trying to appease you.

"what is the reason behind your lateness?" you ask, a disdainful look on your face.

"i may have forgot we were wednesday..."

mentally, you slapped your forehead because of how much you were tired of him. but, physically, you simply scoffed, arms still crossed. you turned your face the opposite way of where he was sitting, turning your back to him. gyuvin whined.

"i'm a human, i make mistakes!" he complained.

"i don't know if i can forgive you..." you answered, dramatically, and he understood that you were joking around. a sigh of relief left his lips, and he decided to play along.

"and if i say i love you, you'll forgive me?"

"and if i say the feeling is not mutual, what will you do?"

gyuvin's jaw was basically on the floor. how could you go that far! "i can't believe this..." he said in a muffled voice. you mocked him for the face he was doing, and gyuvin playfully hit your arm with no force.

"breaking up with you as we speak" gyuvin said, rolling his eyes.

"you're sure about that?"

"absolut-" gyuvin was cut off by your lips on his, giving him a small peck. he felt his cheeks getting warm and he looked away.

"maybe i'm not breaking up with you anymore."

#zerobaseonefics #boys planet #boys planet fics #boys planet imagines #boys planet reactions #kpop #boys planet drabbles #boys planet trainees #zerobaseone #zb1 #zb1 x reader #zb1 reactions #zb1 fluff #jiwoong #zhang hao #gyuvin #taerae #matthew

[bokutosbiceps]

real deal

kure raian x f!reader | smut + some fluff | 2.2k words

summary: raian comes home from a job to find that you’ve replaced him with a little piece of plastic. he decides to show you why the real deal is always better

warnings: mentions of murder, cursing (it’s rai omg), nsfw under the cut, use of sex toy, cunnilingus, throat fucking, choking/gagging, pussy eating, fingering, rough sex, possessive sex, mating press, dirty talk

a/n: i’m dedicating this to @thebigevilsamp + @missmadness123 because i used to thirst over raian with these two so i figured you guys would appreciate this 🥹 i’m sorry for leaving LOL. oh + also @kenganparadise + @kengan-ass because i enjoyed their writing at the peak of the fandom 💕

18+ MINORS DNI

Raian swung his keys around on his index finger as he strolled back to his car, whistling a tune he’d had stuck in his head throughout his entire job. Erioh had sent him to kill some asshole who had been embezzling money from one of Erioh’s oldest friend’s company, and Raian couldn’t have been less intrigued. 

The job was easy, since the target was just an old dude. A simple squeeze of his hand had snapped the old man’s fragile cervical spine, extinguishing the last bit of life the guy had left in him. Whatever, he was probably going to die within the next 10 years anyways. But however easy the job was, it was equally long. The target rarely ever worked given his old age, and it took forever to get intel on when the old bag would show up to work. Raian was never able to figure out where he lived, either. He didn’t understand how old people could be so elusive.

I’ve just gotta go report back to old man Erioh and then I’ll finally be able to get home. Raian grunted to himself as he weaved in and out of traffic on his way to Kure Village. I wonder how my bitch is doing… Raian’s expression softened as he thought of coming home to you after being away for so long on this job. He would probably never get used to being received with such excitement and love when returning home from a job. Deep down, he loved it. And deep down, he missed you more and more as the days apart from you passed. He appreciated the short but sweet texts you would send him, telling him that you were thinking of him, or that you missed him, sometimes even complete with a cute or sexy photo of you.

Maybe he should do something nice for you. Since he was in a good mood.

Raian sneered as he slammed his car door shut after pulling up to a random supermarket. Dumb bitch, making me get her flowers. Why do women even like flowers? They’re so useless, can’t even eat them or use them as a weapon. Fucking hell. He grumbled to himself as he picked up some flowers, already knowing exactly which kind he would get since he had taken note of what types of flowers you liked to adorn the kitchen table with in the house. He could be observant when he wanted. He threw some cash at the cashier and stalked back to his car, speeding to Kure Village so he could debrief Erioh and be on his merry way to your arms.

“It’s finished, old man.” Raian leaned against the door frame to Erioh’s office, a lazy smirk playing on his lips as he watched his grandfather raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“I’m surprised it took you so long. I was starting to wonder if you’d finally pissed someone off enough to get yourself killed.” Erioh cackled at how quickly Raian’s smirk disappeared.

“Kill? Me?” Raian snorted. “You know better, you old bastard, no one can kill me.” Raian straightened once he remembered your flowers were resting in the front seat of his car, likely shriveling up in the sweltering heat of the afternoon. “I’m leaving. If you need anything else, don’t.” Raian turned on his heel and waved to Erioh as he exited his house.

“Raian.” Erioh called out to him and Raian huffed as he turned back around to face his grandfather, glaring at him expectantly. “I’m giving you the next two weeks off. Spend some time with your woman.” Erioh smiled slyly and sat down at his desk. “If I’m going to be appointing you as head of the clan anytime soon, I’ll be wanting to see that you are capable of upholding your bloodline.” Erioh gave Raian a pointed look. “Get busy.”

Raian scoffed as he continued to make his way out of Erioh’s house. Way ahead of you.

It took Raian less than 3 minutes to drive the short distance from Erioh’s house in the depths of Kure Village to his own home somewhere in the upper ring of the village.

He unlocked the front door and entered the silent house with flowers in hand, somewhat disappointed that you weren’t jumping into his arms to greet him like you usually did. It’s what he got for trying to surprise you with his return.

“Y/n?” Raian called out as he walked from the front room to the living room, stopping in the kitchen to set the flowers down on the table next to the vase filled with almost identical flowers. He heard a small buzzing noise coming from down the hall and followed the noise to the bedroom. What he found was a delicious sight.

You were lying on the California king, legs open wide, chest heaving, and lips parted in pleasure as you held something small and colorful and vibrating to your clit.

“Hmm, the fuck is going on here?” Raian’s deep drawl shook you out of your haze of pleasure, causing you to immediately close your legs and sit up in slight fear and embarrassment.

“Rai, I didn’t know you were coming home.” Your voice was breathless, your hair slightly tousled, and your cheeks held a shade of arousal that Raian found so delectable. He approached the bed in one long stride and snatched the vibrator out of your hand before you could even think to hide it. “I missed you.” You said bashfully, watching as Raian inspected the toy that fit in between his large fingers.

“You missed me so you tried to replace me with this thing?” Raian challenged, crushing the vibrator between his fingers and shifting his gaze to you.

“Nothing can replace you, Rai.” You sat up onto your knees to become level with Raian, who was still standing by the bedside, now brushing the remnant of your brand new vibrator onto the floor. You slid your hands underneath his shirt and up his chest. “Fusui just…suggested it to me. She knew I was missing you and you never told me when you’d be back…a girl has her needs, y’know.”

“So did that little fucking toy satisfy your needs?” Raian seized your hands with one of his hands and used his other hand to grip your face. You shook your head in blatant and hurried denial. “Good, I’m glad my bitch knows the difference between a piece of plastic and the real deal.”

Raian wasted no time in pushing you back on the bed and placing his knees on either side of your naked body, dragging his shirt off while you made quick work of his belt and pushed his jeans down to expose the bulge in his boxers.

“You see how hard I am already, bitch? This was your plan all along, hm? For me to come home and see my bitch all laid out on the bed for me, ready to be fucked?” Raian sank his teeth into your shoulder, rutting his hips so that his bulge was rubbing against your pussy. You gasped at the sudden contact and wrapped your legs around his hips obediently, giving him more access. “Good girl.” He growled, moving his hands down to squeeze and knead your ass.

“Rai, fuck—I missed you, so much.” You breathed, bucking your hips against his boxers, getting them soaked in your arousal.

Raian sat back on his heels, eyes raking over your naked body which was trembling with excitement at the evening ahead of you. He looked down at his boxers and frowned. “Dirty girl, huh? Getting my boxers all wet with your pussy juices.” He stood up briefly to take off his boxers, releasing his girthy cock and letting it slap against his lower abdomen. You drooled at the site of his pre-cum leaking out in beads from his tip.

Raian kneeled back on the bed and grabbed a fistful of your hair, coaxing your lips closer to his cock until it was fully shoved down your throat. He warmed his cock in your throat until he noticed tears forming at the corner of your eyes and decided to give a good, strong thrust into your mouth, causing you to gag.

“My bitch is gonna gag on my cock, huh? Did you miss the way it tastes? Are you gonna take all this cum for me?” He bullied you, fucking your throat despite your gagging and choking until he was shooting ropes of cum down into your stomach. He slid out of your mouth and let you catch your breath while pushing you back down on the bed and pressing kisses down your neck, to your breasts, to your navel, before placing a chaste kiss to your clit, making you whine and arch your back.

“Does my girl want me to fuck her cunt with my tongue?” Raian smirked at your whining as you twisted his hair in your fists, trying to push your hip into his face. “Tell me what you want, baby.”

“I want you t-to fuck me, Rai.” You breathed. “I missed your cock so much, baby.” Raian clicked his tongue before pushing one, then two, then three fingers inside of you, eliciting a high pitched whine from you that originated from deep in your chest.

“Not yet, bitch.” Raian pumped his fingers in and out of you as he licked a stripe up your clit. “I’ve gotta torture you first.” Raian continued fucking you with his fingers and licking and sucking on your clit until your thighs were trembling and he was sure you were about to cum. Just when you felt like you were about to fall over the edge, Raian abandoned your pussy, making you shiver slightly at the cold air that replaced his touch.

You lifted your heavy head to see Raian kneeling again, stroking his cock and spreading his pre-cum to make sure he could fuck you easily. You eyed his cock hungrily, remembering how just moments ago that thing had been shoved down your throat so far you could barely breathe.

Without any warning, Raian hoisted your legs onto his shoulders and leaned down in between your legs to lick greedily up your neck before capturing your lips in a rough kiss, almost feral, that left you dizzy. Raian’s lips put you into such a trance that the pressure of Raian pushing his cock inside of you made you squeal in surprise, throwing your head and arching your back, making Raian’s angle inside of you even deeper.

“Fuck, babe, how could I resist the feeling of your pussy squeezing my cock like this?” Raian picked up the pace, bottoming out with every thrust. “How much did you miss me?” Raian gripped your chin and forced you to look at him, but your eyes were rolling into the back of your head from the pleasure of Raian’s cock filling you up. “Look at me, bitch, tell me how much you missed me fucking you like this.”

You willed yourself to meet Raian’s feral gaze, which made your walls squeeze around Raian’s cock even tighter as he fucked you into the bed. “I missed you so much—baby, I-I dreamed about you coming home and—f-fucking me just like this.”

“Hm, good answer.” Raian's pace started to become erratic and his hips stuttered. “I think I’m gonna let you cum. Is that what you want?” You managed to moan out a yes as Raian’s thrusts became rougher and he squeezed your hips with his fingers, hard enough to leave bruises. He growled as he neared his release and the sound was the final straw to bring on your climax. Raian was not far behind you and he released into you as he bit your bottom lip before smoothing it over with his tongue.

Once he was sure he had emptied the last drop of his cum into your cunt, he slipped out of you and threw himself down onto the bed next to you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into his chest. He let you catch your breath before continuing his bullying.

“So me or the toy?” He asked through a smirk. You huffed.

“Rai, shut up. I was just desperate, you were gone for a long time.” You said the last part quietly.

Raian felt a twinge of guilt poke him in the chest. He frowned and ran his hands down your back, squeezing your ass. “Sorry.” He mumbled. Two weeks didn’t seem like that long when he was focused on a job, but he had never thought of how long it must’ve seemed to you when you had to deal with his family every day.

“It’s fine.” You stifled a yawn and curled yourself further into Raian’s chest. “Just as long as you come back to me every time.”

The corner of Raian’s mouth turned upward into what could have been regarded as a smile, had you seen it. He just grunted in agreement. Nothing could keep me away.

#kure raian #kengan ashura #kengan omega #kure raian x reader #kure raian smut #raian kure #raian kure smut #raian kure x reader

[still-a-morosexual-help]

I'd love to hear your thoughts about Dad!Lucifer actually. Pretty please?

Okay okay but Lucifer;

who gives MC a key to the house because it's their home too

Who gets really happy when Mammon talks about how much he likes Lucifer

Who can't help but cave to his brothers when they plead for something

Who is worried about Asmo even though Asmo is upset with him

Who gets a tiny pleased smile on his face after MC calls them family

Who goes whenever Mammon calls him to hangout

Who breaks the pastry/treat he got from the place he was working at and gave MC the biggest part

Who introduced Levi to anime

Who has a general idea about what's going on in the anime Levi is currently watching

Who shares his coat with MC because it's cold

Who complains about his brothers but gets protective when someone else says something about them

Who finds it adorable when Mammon slips up and accidentally calls him dad

Who takes candid pictures of his kids

Who pleads with Diavolo to let him handle the punishment the one time Mammon pushes too hard and genuinely pisses off Diavolo

Who complains about them but still tucks his kids in when they tire themselves out after a party

Who arranges a family trip to see flowers which are supposed to make people who see them together get lucky/be happy or something like that

Who orders take away for his family when he goes out to eat without them

Who sometimes brings home his kids favourite food

Who arranges picnics for his kids

Who buys train tickets for Mammon, MC and Luke even though he said he wouldn't

Who picked up the oddballs of the Celestial Realm and encouraged them and helped them to grow

Who picks up Mammon's shifts at Hell's Kitchen so that Mammon can study

Who was willing to give up a part of his life for Beel with 0 hesitation

Who, according to Mammon, despite being free/less stressed after losing his memories will never be truly happy because he loves his family too much to be happy living a life where he's forgotten them

Who is more than willing to villanise himself to his kids if that means they won't cross the line & get hurt like Lilith did in the Celestial Realm, and so now thinks and accepts that they all dislike him

Who went to Diavolo so that Mammon could get the car in the colour he wanted

Who is genuinely shocked and upset whenever he's confronted with the way his words and actions have hurt his family (he managed to give all his kids issues and is just so confused whenever they bring it up, this is such a real life situation that it makes me want to throw up)

Who tells his family not to get carried away and hurt themselves or someone else when they start playing around in public

Who doesn't want to be perceived as a boring stick in the mud but also wants nothing more than to go on a factory tour

Who acknowledges that MC is strong enough to look after themself but also that won't stop him from worrying about them

Mammon calls him 'old man'

Who does genuinely believe in all his kids and what they can achieve but says it so infrequently that when he does express that they all malfunction

Who helps Asmo choose his accessories and says that if Asmo wanted to spend time with him he could just ask

Who says he believes in Mammon and then helps him re-write the proposals

Who takes the things his kids forgot at home and gives it to them at school

Who always has a proud little smile when MC shows how much their magic has grown

AND THIS IS ALL CANON! These are all things he's done in canon, he drives me insane, I'm obsessed

Okay look - he's absolutely terrible at times. Like genuinely there are times when he makes my blood boil, specially during S1, the S1 era devilgrams and the pre-canon devilgrams but he's such a complicated character? Who gets character development and we get to see how he softens after being reassured that what happened to Lilith won't happen again (which I've spoken about in detail in another post)

This asshole probably packs lunches with little notes for all his kids whenever it's his turn to cook on a RAD day

He'd absolutely throw hands if an outsider says shit about his family even though just seconds ago he was cussing them out

If it's one of the days where he actually makes it to bed instead of sleeping at his desk he first has to check to make sure all the kids are safely tucked in bed

He probably goes to every one of Beel's fangol matches

If he drove it'd be a minivan

He's got 7 adopted kids in total and 1 biological kid and he loves them all to death & back but he's got so many issues that he has no idea how to properly show it, so only the emotionally intelligent kids know it but even they have their doubts sometimes and it's all a huge mess but holy shit is he trying

He's my favourite grouchy old bastard and one of my favourite parts when writing fics is sprinkling Lucifer just being a Dad into them whenever I can

#asks #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #shall we date? obey me! #swd obey me #swd obey me! #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #om lucifer #obey me! lucifer #om! lucifer #swd lucifer #shall we date lucifer

[graysnetwork]

TOO REAL?

Brothers bsf type of au for Keegan making write more.

I wrote this in like an hour so bare with me as this isn’t very long.

Info: fyi, just so you know this is just a little imagine for what’s happened in the past when Keegan goes out with girls. But this isn’t set after that last part basically. FEM READER

Warnings: none.

Summary: Keegan pulls up to your house as he rushes for a date

Here Keegan was pulling up to your house, making a bunch of noise as he shoved the keys in the lock of the front door. You walked down the stairs opening the door expecting someone else like your parents. But Keegan quickly ran up the stairs while saying “thanks”

You stood there confused before looking out the door seeing his car, a girl in the passenger seat waiting patiently. You put two and two together and figured he probably left something in the guest room or your brothers room.

The girl noticed you, turning to you and waving, you realized it was a girl from your school— Emily, she was a nice girl, always had a things for Keegan from what you knew. She wasn’t rude or annoying, she was sweet and pretty. All good reasons for Keegan to go out with her.

He ran down the stairs with a shoe box in hand and the pair of Jordan’s on his feet,

“I left my shoes here, sorry, I’m in a rush” he explained while stuffing his normal shoes in the box. “It’s fine, uh.. be nice to Emily” you told him. “yeah, I will don’t worry” he told you nodding as he walked out to the porch.

“she’s a sweet girl, don’t blow her off like your last girlfriend” you informed him, he stood there forgetting about the whole rush he was in.

“yeah.. I’ll be good, promise” he said as he turned around and walked down the steps of the porch.

“alright, hope you have fun” you said closing the door quietly. It never got easier seeing him go out with girls, first of all it was just weird,

second of all you wanted to be the girl to go out with him, you didn’t care if your brother would get pissed about it, you wanted to be the one going out getting dinner and getting a kiss goodbye from him.

You just wanted to be with him, but maybe it’d ruin everything for Keegan and your brother, maybe it’d ruin your friendship with Keegan, maybe it’d hurt your feelings. Keegan would be going off the university in a year so what’s the point of trying to go out with him.

Keegan stood there for a few second as he turned around to go back to you— he’d rather take you out. Have you all to himself, and be the only guy to ever kiss your lips.

He was met with the white door.

He walked down the steps and approached his car and got in, recklessly throwing it in the back seat. As he put the car in drive.

“That was y/n right?” Emily asked him, “yeah, yeah it was y/n” he said with a huff. Emily sat there quietly as she noticed his frustration, before she broke the silence.

Even though it did hurt to ask she did it anyways,

“Do you like her?”

“What?” Keegan said furrowing his brows, the “do you like her, you seem… agitated” she reiterated.

It sounded to real, saying that he liked you, it made it real. He wanted you, need you. But being truthful and saying it out loud would mess him up, probably make him more crazy for you. He would have to deny it his whole life if he never got to be with you romantically.

“No” he said sighing and placing a hand on Emily’s thigh “I don’t, plus we should be talking about you, no?” He lied. He did like you, he loved you. He can’t say it or else he’ll have to accept it for its reality.

She smiled unknowingly at his lie and started talking about other things, he tried to answer stuff she asked, and adding things in her conversation but how could he if he was thinking about the entire time?

—

Hope it’s good enough ☺️

#imagines #x reader stories #fluff #call of duty #oneshot #keegan p russ #call of duty keegan #cod keegan #keegan russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan x reader #y’all better request for bbf! keegan or else i’ll be sad #brothers best friend

[strangerstilinski]

𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character

TW | S2

chapter seven

fic summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle it. it would be fine. everything was great.

word count; 19k

warnings; the possibly triggering scene from the show with Jackson being creepy in the locker room, slight gore maybe?, eventual explicit sexual content, oral sex (both m and f), fluff fluff and more fluff

chapter notes; the group tries to figure out who's been controlling jackson all this time. ben davis makes a brief return as my own personal plot device. stiles is his typically over-dramatic self and amber is, as usual, super into it.

masterlist

c h a p t e r s e v e n

restraint

Amber's nerves had her nearly dropping her phone to the floor of her car as she climbed behind the wheel while simultaneously trying to get ahold of Stiles. Fingers of her free hand fumbled over the touchscreen, already turning her key in the ignition as the call began to ring through. Stiles was answering before the first trill through the speaker had even finished sounding out, his voice frantic.

"Why the hell haven't you been answering your phone?" He shouted through the speaker, the pitch of his voice higher than normal.

"Is Scott still with you?" She asked immediately, taking the turn off of her street a touch too quickly than was probably good for her tires, "Because I was just with Lydia and-"

"Jackson escaped." Scott's voice supplied through the phone.

"He what?" Amber squeaked, letting off the clutch to shift gears and increase the speed of the car that much more, "Guys he's not-"

"Yeah, he got out and the asshole went straight to the police," Stiles told her, "His dad's here and my dad's pissed and Scott's mom is on her way down to the station."

"You guys are at the station?" She cursed, slamming on the breaks so she could make a messy three point turn and backtrack in the direction of the Sheriff's station.

"Yeah, and we're totally screwed," Stiles was telling her as she reoriented her car in the right direction, "My dad said the Whittemore's are filing a restraining order against Scott and I. As soon as Scott's mom gets here my dad has to read out the terms and-"

"Stiles!" Amber interrupted sharply, "That sucks but it's not important right now, okay? Lydia translated part of the kanima entry from the bestiary-"

"How'd she do that?" Scott cut in.

"She knows Archaic Latin, Scott. Now shut up and listen to me," Amber snapped as she turned onto the next street, "Mrs. Morrell translated it wrong! The kanima doesn't seek a friend, alright? The kanima seeks a master! Which means someone's controlling Jackson-"

"Woah, what?" Stiles exclaimed through the speaker.

"Stiles, you said that Jackson still didn't believe you when you were explaining everything to him earlier, right?" She asked, shifting gears as she went around a sharp corner.

"Yeah, pretty much." Stiles agreed.

"Well, so- If Jackson doesn't know what he's doing then he must not know someone's even controlling him." Amber deduced.

"Or he doesn't remember." Scott supplied.

"What if it's the same kinda thing that happened with Lydia when she took off from the hospital?" Stiles questioned.

"Right!" Amber recalled, "Like a fugue state-"

Scott's voice came through the phone again, "But then he'd have to forget everything.. The murder-"

"Getting rid of all the blood-" Amber offered up, an image flashing behind her eyes of Jackson's bloodied body at the nightclub. She thought of how he would've had to have washed the blood away himself after he'd killed Tucker, and Isaac's dad, and then the hunter-

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, "He had help with one thing though.. The video. Someone else helped him forget that." He reminded them of the erased footage.

"Whoever's controlling him." Scott said quietly.

The tires of Amber's car squealed quietly in protest as she peeled into the parking lot at the station and jerked to a slightly crooked stop between the painted white lines.

"Jackson thinks that being with Lydia somehow made him immune and, like, delayed the whole werewolf bite thing-" Amber told them, throwing herself from the vehicle and nearly falling to the pavement in her haste to slam the door shut behind her, "Where exactly are you guys?"

"What d'you mean?" Stiles asked in confusion as Amber pushed the front door to the station open, "I told you we're down at the station-"

"Yeah, so am I," She panted slightly, adrenaline still pumping in her veins from the wild drive from her house, "So where are you guys?"

She let her phone drop from her ear to her shoulder as she stepped up to the door that led to the interrogation rooms, only to find the door locked, the handle stiff and unmoving when she jiggled it. She turned to cast an incredulous look at the female deputy who was watching her from behind the front desk and Amber gestured wildly at the door with her free hand.

"Tara, I know you recognize me," Amber said in exasperation, "C'mon, buzz me in-"

Tara frowned, slowly eyeing the girl's frazzled state, but pressed her finger down on the button to unlock entry into the hallway. Amber sighed gratefully as she rushed through, nearly running straight into Stiles' chest when she stepped into the hall at the same time that he and Scott stumbled out of the room at the front end of the corridor.

"Jesus!" She exclaimed in surprise as her boyfriend's hands came up to steady her.

She abandoned her phone completely, ending the call and shoving it into her pocket as she looked at her best friends.

"We need to find out who's controlling him." Scott quietly continued their conversation from before.

"D'you think he'll talk to us?" Amber questioned, "I mean.. After what we did? Kidnapping him and all?"

Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, it's us. He'll talk to us," He nodded before catching Amber's unsure frown, "..Right?"

It was at that moment that Sheriff Stilinski stepped out from a room further down the hall and cast a disappointed look at the three teens.

"Scott, your mom just pulled in. So, you boys get your asses into this room," He said firmly, "Now."

Stiles and Scott lowered their heads and followed the order, moving down the hall and into the larger interrogation room. Ms. McCall hurried past Amber only a moment later and the girl immediately moved to follow but Sheriff Stilinski held up a hand in signal for her to stop.

"No." He said simply.

Amber spluttered, taking another aborted step forward, "Wh- But- If I could just-"

"This doesn't concern you," He told her firmly before raising his eyebrows in question, "Does it?"

"Um.. No?" She told him cautiously.

"Then you stay out here." He said, giving her a serious look before moving into the room himself, leaving the door into the hallway open behind him.

Amber moved to the edge of the doorway, attempting to listen closely to what was going on just on the other side of the wall. Ms. McCall hovered at the edge of the room, her arms crossed over the scrub top she was still wearing after having rushed down to the station straight from work.

"Scott. Stiles. This is going to apply to both of you, so listen to me very closely," The Sheriff said in a stern voice, "You will not go within fifty feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him.. You will not approach him.. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically."

"What about school?" Stiles questioned immediately.

His father sighed, "You both can attend classes while attempting to maintain a fifty foot distance."

Amber shook her head, unsure how such a thing was possible when they shared so many classes with the other boy in addition to lacrosse.

"Bu- Okay, what if we both have to use the bathroom at the same time-" Stiles started, words rambling together quickly as Amber clenched her eyes shut and silently willed him to stop talking while he continued, "-And there's only two stalls available, and those two stalls are right next to each other?"

There was a brief silence and Amber brought her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"-I'll just hold it." Stiles said quietly after a few moments.

A few minutes later, Stiles' father was leading him out of the room with a hand fisted in the collar of the boy's sweatshirt, "Do I need to remind you how lucky we are that they're not pressing charges?" The Sheriff demanded.

"Oh, come on! It was a joke!" Stiles attempted to justify their actions.

Amber had to physically fight the urge to press the palm of her hand against her forehead in vexation.

"It was a joke?" Sheriff Stilinski repeated incredulously.

"Yes!" Stiles agreed quickly, "I didn't think it would be taken this seriously. Dad, humor's very subjective, okay? We're talking, like, multiple levels of interpretation here."

His father's gaze cut to Amber and she stepped forward slowly as if pulled by the weight of his glare.

"You and Stiles have a pretty similar sense of humor," Sheriff Stilinski pointed out, "How would you interpret the situation? You think it was funny?" He questioned sternly.

"I, um.." She bit down on her lip as her eyes bounced between her boyfriend and his father, "Not.. Not wildly funny."

'Traitor' Stiles motioned with his lips silently, shaking his head at her cowardice under his father's attention.

"Uh huh," Sheriff Stilinski looked between them with narrowed eyes for a moment before refocusing on his son, "Well, uh, how exactly am I supposed to interpret the stolen prison transport van, huh?"

Stiles spluttered, hands waving around wildly, "We filled the tank!"

His father raised his hands with a deep breath as he stepped away, removing himself from the conversation entirely with a shake of his head and leaving the two of them alone in the narrow hall.

"A prank?" Amber hissed, landing a hard punch to her boyfriend's shoulder, "You told them it was a prank?"

"What? Like you had a better excuse lined up?" He questioned while he rubbed at the sore spot on his arm. Amber's face pinched as she tried to quickly come up with something and Stiles nodded at her after a few seconds of silence, "Yeah, that's what I thought, smartass."

Her eyes narrowed at his words, "You are infuriating sometimes, y'know that?" She muttered quietly.

Stiles' lips pulled into a slow grin, his cheek dimpling as his eyes flicked over her frustrated expression. He noted the way she'd petulantly crossed her arms before his gaze trailed back up to her face, "Infuriating in a way that kinda makes you wanna kiss me to shut me up?" He questioned in quiet optimism.

She glared despite the flutter in her stomach at his words, "No."

Stiles took a step closer, his palms dragging softly up and down over her upper arms, "You sure? Because I could keep saying infuriating things if that'll-"

"Move!" Ms. McCall yelled at her son sharply as she shoved him out of the interrogation room and they stepped out into the hall, "It's not just this. Although, a restraining order is a new low that I didn't think you would reach quite this soon." She scolded loudly.

Amber and Stiles both winced as Scott followed closely behind his mother, the family unit walking a few steps past where the couple had been loitering.

"-It's everything on top of it!" Ms. McCall continued, spinning around to face her son with a disappointed look, "The completely bizarre behavior, the late nights coming home, having to beg Mr. Harris to let you make up that Chemistry test that you missed-"

"I missed a Chemistry test?" Scott questioned in genuine confusion.

"Really, Scott? Really?" His mother shook her head with a deep sigh, "I- I have to ground you. I'm grounding you. You.. Are grounded."

Amber blinked in surprise. She couldn't remember a single time in their lives when Scott's mom had been angry enough with him to do such a thing. He'd been punished, sure – lots of times – but never to the point of a grounding.

"What about work?" Scott questioned immediately.

"Fine. Other than work." His mother acquiesced, "And no TV." She added as an afterthought.

Scott merely shrugged, "My TV's broken."

Amber shook her head silently and tried to catch his eye, pleading for her best friend to shut up.

"Then no computer." Ms. McCall said easily.

"..I need the computer for school." Scott said slowly.

His mother's face pinched in annoyance, "Then no, uh.." Her gaze drifted over Scott's shoulder, eyes catching on her son's best friends. Her face seemed to light up with an idea, "No Stiles and no Amber."

Amber squeaked in protest, "Wh-"

"No Stiles?" Stiles repeated, voice high.

"No! No Stiles! No Amber!" Ms. McCall repeated with more authority than before, looking back to her son again, "And no more car privileges. Give me your key-"

Scott reared a small step back in response to his mother's words, "But-"

"Give 'em to me!" Ms. McCall snapped.

Scott pulled his keyring from the pocket of his jeans and handed it over weakly. The three teens all watched his mother pulled frantically at the split ring, trying to separate the pieces enough to slip the car key off of the loop with clumsy fingers and working herself up further the more that she struggled.

"Oh, for the love of God." Ms. McCall muttered with a frustrated sniffle.

Scott reached out toward her with caution, "Mom, do you want me to-"

"No." His mother snapped.

"Mom, come on. Just let me- Mom!" Scott pleaded, his hand wrapping around her shaking ones to grip the keys, "Mom."

Ms. McCall sniffled again and Amber took a small step back, her knuckles knocking lightly against Stiles' before he tangled their fingers together wordlessly.

"What is going on with you?" Ms. McCall asked quietly, "Is this about Allison?"

Scott turned his head to shoot his friends a pleading look and Amber instinctively chewed at her lower lip, knowing exactly how badly Scott wanted to come clean about all of the supernatural crap that had suddenly infiltrated their lives.

"Do you really wanna know?" Scott asked his mom slowly.

Stiles began to shake his head vehemently at Scott as Ms. McCall begged her son to explain what his problem was. Scott looked to his friends desperately once more and Amber gave him a small shrug as Stiles continued to silently display his disapproval.

"-Is this about your dad?" Ms. McCall asked weakly.

The question seemed to catch him off guard and Scott was still trying to decide on his next words when his mom continued.

"It is, isn't it?" Her gaze caught on Amber and Stiles still hovering just a few feet away and her posture straightened up with a final sniffle, "Okay, you know what? Um, we'll talk about this at home. I'm- I'm gonna go get the car."

They all watched her go with varying expressions of dismay and Scott waited until the door at the end of the hallway sealed shut with a click before turning to face his friends fully.

"I'm the worst son ever." Scott said with a shattered look.

"Well, I'm not exactly winning any prizes either." Stiles countered easily.

"It's gonna be okay," Amber assured them, her voice coming out sounding less firm than she'd intended, "It- It is gonna be okay, right?" She asked after a moment as she looked between them anxiously.

Stiles wrapped his arm around her neck, their joined hands coming up to rest at her shoulder as he pulled her into his chest, words muffled slightly in her hair, "Yeah. Yeah, everything's gonna be fine."

Upon arriving home, Amber was entirely surprised to find her brother standing in their living room. His shift had only started at the fire station a few hours before, so she wasn't expecting to see him for another eighteen hours, but he was currently dragging his feet across the hardwood restlessly as he paced back and forth across the space.

His attention snapped up at the sound of the front door closing as Amber dropped her keys onto the table in the entryway, his face pinching in a tight frown the moment his gaze found her.

"Jase..?" She asked cautiously as she toed off her shoes, "Is uh, is everything okay?"

"Get in here. And sit." He demanded, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the couch.

"Okay.." She said slowly, stepping into the room, "What's-"

"Amber Evangeline Callisto-"

The girl's eyes widened at the use of her full name, something she was nearly certain she hadn't heard in a scolding since their mother had been alive.

"-Sit. Down." Jason finished sternly, the volume of his voice was wholly surprising and Amber's butt landed on the couch immediately.

"I- Um, I'm going to take a wild guess from the fact that you're, y'know, here, and the deeply pissed off look on your face.. And assume that Sheriff Stilinski called you?" She pulled her socked feet up underneath herself on the cushions nervously, eyes focused on her brother's stiff jaw as he clenched it in anger.

Jason ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as he looked around the room and neither confirmed nor denied her assumtion, "Am I supposed to confiscate your phone and take away your car keys?" He questioned frantically, "Lock you in your bedroom and just.. Homeschool you? Is that what it's gonna take to keep your ass out of trouble, or what?"

She balked, "I- I'm not even in trouble! Jackson only filed for restraining orders against-"

"If you honestly think that I am gonna believe you didn't have anything to do with this so-called 'joke' your knucklehead best friends pulled-" He took an angry breath that sounded loudly through his nose, "Do you think that I'm stupid? Or just insanely fucking unobservant?"

"Well, I -"

"Amber, I am fucking trying here, okay?" His voice cracked and Amber felt a little like her heart might have cracked too as she watched her brother's internal struggle, "I feel like I'm just watching you kids spiral out of control and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it-"

"You don't- You're not doing anything wrong-"

"Well clearly I am!" He yelled suddenly. His own shout seemed to catch him off guard and he sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of her with a sigh, "I- I don't know what I'm doing. It's been four years and I still feel like I'm fucking drowning sometimes, trying to be your parent and your brother at the same time."

"I'm sorry." She spoke quietly, her voice thick with unshed tears as her eyes welled.

"I don't want you to apologize. I want you to stop getting into trouble.. To stop showing up at all of these crime scenes, and inserting yourself into murder investigations, and-"

"I- I don't know what to say." She admitted quietly as a few tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks.

Even she were to try and explain, Amber didn't know where she could possibly start.

She could start with Derek; how he'd come back into town and started showing up everywhere all suspicious-like before revealing that he was a werewolf and that Scott was no longer her sweet best friend, but instead, a genuine danger to be around. She could tell him about Peter; explain that he hadn't been as weak and incapacitated as everyone had initially thought and that, really, this whole thing had all started with him. She could mention how Allison's family played into it all; the heinous things her aunt had done before her demise and all of the things her father and grandfather were still a part of now. She could tell her brother about all of the new teenage werewolves running around town and the murderous rampage her classmate had unknowingly undertaken and okay, yes, she'd helped kidnap him but they'd had no other choice because Jackson was seriously dangerous and he didn't even know what he was doing-

Amber couldn't find it in her to voice any of those things, however. Instead, she gnawed on her lower lip and sniffled quietly as she guiltily avoided her brother's gaze, settling back into the couch with the acceptance that the evening was only destined to get more difficult.

"Did Lydia finish translating the entry about the kanima?" A hushed voice questioned from only a few inches behind Amber, causing the girl to flinch in surprise.

"Jesus," Amber exclaimed as she spun around, locker door slamming shut when her shoulder collided with the cool metal, "A bell. You need a bell."

Allison rolled her eyes with a fond smile and crossed her arms over her chest, "Well? Did she?"

With a nod of her head, Amber pulled a crisp, brand new composition notebook from her bag and held it out toward the other girl.

"She did. I went over first thing this morning to get it. She's, uh, pretty annoyed with us, but she did it."

Allison studied the words on the pages with determined focus for a few moments before pulling a tablet from her own bag and motioning for Amber to hold the journal for her. Amber dutifully held her arms out to display the pages, flipping through them slowly as Allison photographed the information to create a digital copy.

"Have you shown Scott or Stiles yet?" Allison asked as she finished.

Amber slapped the book shut and slipped it back into her bookbag with a shake of her head, "I was on my way now. They're waiting in the library."

"I'll come with you." Allison said easily, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag and moving in the direction of the library while still studying the photographs she'd taken of the notebook pages.

As they pushed through the double-doors, Amber's eyes peered through the spaces between bookshelves, flicking over the students spread out at tables trying to finish up last minute assignments before the start of morning classes.

She toyed with her lower lip between her teeth as she searched for her best friends and when she finally spotted them, Scott and Stiles were tucked at the back of one of the stacks having a hushed conversation. As she approached, hand absentmindedly dragging over her boyfriend's shoulder and up to his neck, her fingertips dug into his skin softly as she stepped up beside them.

Her backpack hit the ground at the base of the bookshelf and their attention turned to her, Stiles' eyebrows raising a fraction as he took her in for the first time that morning.

"Hello," He greeted with emphasis, reaching out until the backs of his fingers could skim over the soft material of her sundress, "You're looking spring-y."

He pinched the hem between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckles brushing against the smooth skin of her bare thigh as he idly rubbed at the fabric.

"Thanks," She said somewhat breathlessly. Her own hand dropped to wrap lightly around his wrist in warning and she waited until he let the skirt fall back down against her legs before she continued, "I, uh, I'm trying to manifest warmer weather or something."

His lips pulled into a small smile and she felt slightly overwhelmed by the butterflies that bloomed in her stomach.

"Well, you look really beautiful." He told her softly.

"Can you guys be disgusting later?" Scott interjected in clear impatience.

The couple flinched as they were torn from the romance-heady bubble they'd somehow managed to slip into.

Amber was quick to recover and she laced her fingers with Stiles as her eyes narrowed in Scott's direction, "You're just jealous because of the whole Romeo and Juliet thing that means you can't flirt with your girlfriend unless it's in a dark creepy corridor or, like, a janitor's closet-"

"Ha," Stiles said in amusement, seconding her assessment, "What she said. The green monster's not a great look on you, buddy-"

A soft throat clearing from the other side of the bookshelf caught Amber's attention and she spotted Allison peering through a gap from the next aisle over.

"Lydia's translations.." Allison prompted gently as she pulled a book from the shelf and pretended to look at it in interest.

"Right, yeah," Amber nodded, "So Lydia gave me her translations this morning. She was up pretty late last night writing it all down for me-"

"Apparently she's not thrilled about still being left in the dark." Allison supplied quietly, sliding her tablet through the gap in books so that Scott and Stiles could peer down at the photographs she'd taken of the translated pages.

"Oh, yeah," Scott realized as his gaze found Amber, "What'd you tell her?"

Amber winced, rolling her shoulders and tightening her fingers around Stiles' hand, "Um, I'm only about thirty percent confident she bought it.. But I, uh- I told her we were a part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures."

Stiles perked up, "I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." He said quietly, the words fanning out over his girlfriend's neck as he peered down at the tablet.

A breathy laugh slipped from her lips and she knocked her hip against his lightly, "Yeah, I know. I helped you figure out that part with the evil goblins, remember?"

"They were actually gnomes." Stiles corrected immediately.

Scott was shaking head at his friends in clear exasperation, "Okay, does it say how to find out who's controlling Jackson?" He questioned in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

"Not from what I read." Allison frowned, swapping the book in her hands for another as she tried to hide the fact that she was conversing with them.

"But Stiles was right about the murderers." Amber revealed.

"Yes!" He cheered excitedly, dropping his girlfriend's hand to punch the air at the small victory.

Scott and Allison both narrowed their eyes at him for his slightly too loud reaction and his hands slowly lowered under the weight of their glare. Amber shuffled closer as he deflated and his arm slipped beneath her cardigan to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his side as she continued to share the information she'd recently obtained.

"The bestiary calls the kanima a 'weapon of vengeance'," She recited quietly, "There's a story in there about this South American priest who used the kanima to execute murderers in his village-"

"Alright, see?" Stiles interrupted, "That's not so bad."

Amber leaned more heavily against him with a grimace, "-Until their bond grew so strong that it eventually just killed whoever he wanted it to. Murderer or not." She finished.

"All bad," Stiles backtracked, "All very, very bad."

"Thing is, though-" Amber continued quietly, dragging her finger lightly over a sentence displayed on the tablet, "The kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf. But, it can't be until-"

"'Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it.'" Scott read aloud.

"Okay, if that means Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy, I could've told you that myself." Stiles said with a roll of his eyes.

Amber sighed, "Yeah, no shit. The guy's basically unresolved anger and toxic masculinity all wrapped up in a stupidly handsome bow-"

"Euck, handsome?" Stiles repeated with a displeased frown.

"Oh, be quiet," She scolded him, turning in his grip to brush her lips lightly over the corner of his mouth, "You're the most handsome." She whispered quietly against his cheek.

With a satisfied huff, Stiles slid his arm up around her shoulders to tug her back against his chest, releasing his exhale into the loose waves of her hair to hide his grin.

"What if it has to do with Jackson's parents?" Allison pondered, "He's adopted, right? So maybe its something to do with his real parents."

Scott nodded in agreement, "Does anybody actually know what happened to them?" He questioned, eyes flicking to Amber curiously as he spoke.

"I mean.. I know he never really knew them. He was adopted as a baby. Like, really young, I'm pretty sure-" She said slowly, face pinched up in thought, "But, I- Lydia might know more."

"Great," Stiles nodded, "You guys talk to Lydia and Scott and I'll talk to Jackson-"

"Nope. Not gonna work." Amber interrupted with a shake of her head. "Restraining order." She reminded him.

He sighed in annoyance, "God, fine. Then what-"

"During free period, you go talk to Lydia," She told Stiles, "Allison and I will team up to talk to Jackson. And Scott-" The boy in question looked at her with wide eyes, ready for whatever job his best friend was about to dole out, "Scott's gonna go and ace his Chem make-up test."

He made a face like he was going to argue but his girlfriend cut in quickly.

"Scott, she's right." Allison said softly, reaching through the gap in the bookshelf to take Scott's hand.

He sighed in reluctance, "If he does anything, you both run the other way." He said seriously, looking back and forth between the two girls.

"We can take care of ourselves." Allison whispered with a frown.

"I'm serious," Scott whispered, "If either one of you gets hurt while I'm taking some stupid test, someone's gonna need to take care of me," His jaw clenched, hand tightening around Allison's as his eyes continued to bounce between them, "If he does anything-"

Amber scoffed, "Like-?"

"Anything.. Weird. Bizarre. Anything-"

"Anything evil." Stiles interrupted finally, arm tightening around his girlfriend.

"We'll be fine," Amber told both boys, "This is serious, okay? If either of you guys get in trouble for breaking the restraining order, it could mean serious, like, legal consequences. And, Scott, You know you need to retake this test to bring your grade up." She said firmly.

Scott groaned but nodded, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders as they all slowly broke away from one another and filed out of the library.

"We, uh.. We're totally sure it's safe for you and Allison to be talking to Jackson alone?" Stiles worried privately as they stopped in front of his locker.

"We'll be fine," She assured him in a soft voice, "And besides, it's kind of our only option right now-"

"Yeah. Because those are reassuring words." Stiles muttered sarcastically, yanking his locker open to grab his books for English.

"Okay, worry wort. I'm pretty sure we've established that he doesn't actually want to kill any of us," She reminded him as he slammed the metal door shut again, "I mean, if he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead like three times over at this point, right?"

His face scrunched in clear reluctance to agree with her, "Yeah, I guess."

She reached out to cup the side of his face, her thumb skimming over the tiny constellation of moles that created a path toward his mouth. The tip of her finger had barely brushed the corner of his lips when Stiles leaned in to press them to her own in a quick kiss.

As they finally turned to head in the direction of the English classroom, they only managed to get a few steps from Stiles' locker before a familiar voice was calling out loudly behind them.

"Stilinski! Amber! Wait, I- Hold up!"

They both turned as there was a loud crash. Ben Davis slammed his shoulder into the lockers beside them in what both looked and sounded like a painful collision. He rubbed at his shoulder with a frown as he righted himself and looked between Amber and Stiles wide-eyed.

"Davis," Stiles greeted with a wince, "Listen, if this is about the ball that almost hit you in the junk this morning at practice, you should know that I haven't perfected my backhand and I swear it was-"

Ben shook his head in surprise, "What? No. Stilinski, you're fine." He assured the other boy before turning his attention toward Amber, "I actually, really need to talk to you, if that's cool-"

She frowned at the urgency in his voice and began to step forward when Stiles pulled her back with a hand fisted in her cardigan.

"And what exactly do you need to talk to my girlfriend about?" Stiles questioned suspiciously.

"I, uh-" Ben's gaze flicked between them nervously, "Just.. A thing?"

Amber held up a finger in a signal for Ben to give her a moment and spun around to face Stiles, stepping close to give them more privacy as she spoke, "Stiles. Babe, I'll catch up with you in a few?" She whispered in question.

His eyes flicked between her and the spot over her shoulder where Ben was standing behind her and a small noise of distress slipped past her boyfriend's lips.

"But he-" When Amber brought a hand up to rest on his shoulder, he continued in a whisper of his own, "I could stay.. Just as backup, y'know. In case you need me. In case he tries to make a move or-"

Ben's snort of laughter from behind her let them know that he'd heard the hushed comment.

"Dude, when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about between me and Amber-" Ben started in amusement, "I am very, like, keenly aware of how into you she is. I know we went on a date but I mean, she literally said-"

Amber could tell that he was only a second away from bringing up her embarrassing slip of tongue at the end of their tragic date the month before and she turned her head to shoot him a warning glare, causing Ben's words to cut off sharply. When she deemed it safe, she turned back to Stiles again.

"You're sweet and it is stupidly cute, but you really don't need to worry about Ben, alright?" She said even more quietly.

Stiles' lips pulled up reluctantly, "Yeah, okay."

She couldn't hold back a grin, endlessly endeared by his protectiveness. She leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips before giving him a pat on his cheek, "Okay, cool. So I'll catch up with you later then."

Stiles pinched her chin between his forefinger and thumb to tip her head back up again and she went easily. Their lips met in another kiss, this one lingering for a moment before she pushed him away with a flustered laugh.

"Alright, I'm going!" Stiles said, raising his hands in surrender as he turned to leave.

When she turned to face Ben again, she was still sporting a faint blush and giddy smile that wouldn't seem to fade.

"So, what's up? What's the gossip?" She joked, hoping to lighten the mood when she noticed the stressed expression on his face once again.

"I wanted to talk to you about Matt." He said in a hushed voice.

"Daehler?" She asked curiously, frowning when he nodded, "What about him?"

Ben wiped his hands on his jeans as if his palms were sweaty and he looked around them cautiously before speaking, "I, uh.. I saw some pictures on his camera that were kinda.. Um. Well, they were of you-"

"Oh!" She relaxed, "That's what you're all worked up about? It's fine. I know about the pictures."

Ben blinked, faltering for a moment, "You.. You know about the pictures?" He repeated slowly.

"Yeah," She waved off, "He's good with a camera.. It's art — No big deal. It's kinda flattering, honestly, the way he knows how to frame his pictures just right? It's like I'm a model or something except, y'know, all his photos are candid."

"So.." Ben drew out the word, eyes squinting in disbelief, "You know he's been taking these.. Candid pictures, and you're.. Cool with it?" He asked slowly.

She reached out to pat Ben on his broad shoulder with a laugh, "Yes. I'm totally cool with it. He was worried I would think it was creepy, but like I said, it's art. I can appreciate that, y'know? I was actually thinking that if he gets another really good one, I might ask for a copy? Get it printed out and maybe I could frame it and give it to Stiles as a part of his birthday present or something.. That might be cool.." She shook her head as she began to get lost in her thoughts, laughing again quietly, "Anyway, my point is, don't worry about it."

Ben's previously tense shoulders seemed to slump in relief, "I- Okay, then. I just- My bad, I guess." He blew out a long breath through his lips and shrugged awkwardly.

"I seriously appreciate your concern, though," She said honestly, "It was really cool of you to come to me."

He nodded with a serious look, "Yeah, of course. I'm just glad I came to you first instead of, like, immediately confronting Matt and giving him shit about it-"

"Oh, god, yeah!" She nodded in realization.

Ben shook his head, taking a small step back, "Right. So, y'know.. See ya later-"

She waved and bid him goodbye, watching him go with a small smile, grateful that things had been cleared up.

When free period rolled around, Amber and Allison followed as stealthily as they could manage behind Jackson, lurking in the nonexistent shadows as they waited for the right moment to corner him. They kept a safe distance as he walked into the east wing of the school, heading toward the locker rooms and the gymnasium, on his way to get more lacrosse in even after the team's morning practice.

As they entered the more deserted area of the school, devoid of voices and the laughter that had drowned out their steps before, Allison slipped her heels off to quiet her footfalls beside Amber, opting to hold them in her hand instead.

The two girls loitered as he practiced shooting on goal with Danny. When they finally headed back inside, the girls peeked around a corner to watch Jackson enter the boy's locker room as Danny headed in the opposite direction down the hall.

Amber reached for the door handle as they got to the already closed locker room door, but both girls reeled back in shock and a touch of fear when it swung open from the other side just as Amber's fingers brushed the metal.

"You just scared the hell out of me!" Matt Daehler laughed as he exited the locker room while Amber tried to calm her now-racing heart.

"Sorry!" She apologized with a breathless laugh, "Holy shit. I, uh- We we're just-"

"-Nothing," Allison interrupted weakly, "We were just, um, nothing.."

Matt blinked at them in confusion and shook his head, gaze dropping down to the shoes still clutched between Allison's fingers, "Uh, nice heels." He commented with a curious eyebrow raise.

"Oh!" Allison realized, having forgotten she was holding the footwear at all, "Yeah, uh-"

"Her feet were hurting." Amber supplied quickly.

Matt shrugged with a grin, "Same reason I never wear mine." He agreed jokingly.

Amber laughed in surprised amusement and Matt's smile seemed to brighten at the sound.

"Uh, hey.. Did you hear about the underground show?" He asked, eyes focused solely on Amber as he fiddled with the strap of the backpack over his shoulder, "Apparently they've got some big names spinning."

"Spinning-?" Amber repeated the word in confusion.

"Yeah, y'know.. DJ's." Matt clarified.

The pieces clicked together slowly in Amber's mind, "Oh, like a.. Rave?"

Matt scoffed with a smile, "Is it still a rave if you don't roll?" He questioned, "I just call it a party but- Hey! I've got a friend who can hook us up with tickets, if you're down. Y-you want me to get you one?" He asked her hopefully.

"Oh, um-" She frowned, "I don't- I mean, y'know Stiles and I are together-"

"Oh sure, yeah," Matt interrupted, "No, I know, but.. We could still go together as friends, right?"

Amber hesitated, "I mean, yeah, but- Parties like that aren't really my-"

"It'd be really fun, I swear." He promised with a hopeful smile.

Allison nudged at Amber's shoulder anxiously with a nod toward the locker room door to remind Amber of the task at hand.

"I, um- Just as friends?" Amber repeated quickly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just friends," Matt agreed, "I, uh, I could get both of you a ticket?" He suggested, gaze finally drifting over to Allison.

"Uh, fine, yeah," Amber agreed finally, her eyes flicking anxiously toward the locker room, "Sure."

"Cool! Um, it's Friday so I'll get the tickets and-" Matt stepped around them to begin his retreat down the hallway toward the main part of the building, "-Looking forward to it."

As he disappeared around a corner, Amber locked eyes with Allison and saw the other girl was frowning, "That kinda sounded like a date." Allison said quietly.

Amber scoffed, "Which part, exactly? The part where we talked about how I have a boyfriend, the part where we both agreed to go just as friends, or the part where he offered to get you a ticket too?"

Allison's lips were parted with a retort at the ready when there was a sudden ragged coughing from inside the locker room as if Jackson were choking.

"Shit-! Go get Scott," Amber told Allison with wide eyes. The other girl looked like she wanted to fight her on it and Amber shook her head as Jackson's choked noises grew more pained, "Alli, come on. He could be either hurt or going full kanima in there- I'm serious. Jackson won't hurt me but you need to go and get Scott. He's more attuned to you anyway, he'll probably hear you coming before you even get out of the stairwell."

Allison scrunched her face, "Fine. Just.. Be careful." She huffed before turning to run down the hallway.

Amber dropped her unzipped backpack to the ground carelessly, throwing the locker room door open with a bang as she stumbled through the doorway. She listened for sounds of distress, but the noises that Jackson had been making only moments before were gone, now replaced with the quiet sound of running water from the showers at the far side of the room.

"Jackson?" She called out cautiously, slightly worried for the boy as she moved through the rows of lockers in search, "Jackson?"

"In here." Jackson's voice supplied casually from the direction of the showers.

Amber's feet carried her that much faster, converse slapping against the tiles as she headed toward his voice. As she rounded the lockers and came to a stop in the entryway of the showers, she stumbled over her feet in surprise, quickly spinning away at the sight of Jackson's very naked body beneath the spray, staring in her direction with a blank, unaffected gaze.

Amber was staring at the row of lockers across from her with wide eyes as she leaned against the tile wall outside of the showers.

"Something wrong?" He questioned from behind her.

"I- Shit, Jackson!" She exclaimed in disbelief, "A little bit of warning when your dick is out, maybe?"

There was a high-pitched creak as he turned the knob to cut off the flow of hot water and Amber tried desperately to erase the image of Jackson's privates from her brain.

"You're the one who walked into the boy's locker room." He pointed out blankly.

"Wh- I thought I heard you-" She began to defend automatically, thinking back on the horrifying choking noises she'd heard from the hallway, "I mean, I thou- Whatever. Nevermind." She shook her head.

"Did you want to talk about something?" He questioned, his voice sounding from directly behind her now, prompting her to flinch in surprise at his close proximity.

"I- Yeah, but we can-" She huffed out a disbelieving breath as she began to step past him, "We can talk later-"

"No-" Jackson's arm shot out in front of her, his palm pressing against the tile as he caged her back against the tiled wall outside of the showers. Amber immediately forced her eyes upward to avert them from his still-naked body as it dripped with water. She was staring up at the ceiling while he quickly continued, "-Let's talk now."

Her gaze fell to his and she watched Jackson's jaw clench as he glared at her with an especially dark look. She found her heart stuttering slightly in her chest at the coldness behind his eyes.

She licked her lips in thought, "You know? I, uh- I actually should probably start heading to my next class-"

"Oh, no, no-" His face pulled into an irritated snarl and he immediately blocked her attempt to step around him, "No, you don't. You have perfect grades. You can skip one class."

She swallowed audibly at the sudden closeness of the boy's wet body to her own, their torsos practically brushing against one another. A small flash of fear filled her and she felt suddenly stupid for being so blinded by the noises that had sent her barreling into the locker room worried for Jackson's well-being and unafraid of the kanima.

The way Jackson was acting now – the way he was looking at her – It had her feeling suddenly afraid of him for reasons entirely unrelated to the kanima-fueled dangers that she'd mentally prepared herself for earlier in the day.

His gaze fell to her sternum and his lips pulled into a smirk before his eyes returned to hers, "You okay?" He asked condescendingly, "Your heart's beating like crazy."

"I'm fine." She said in a rush as she moved past him, her eyes glued to the tense lines of his body as she began to back away slowly.

"I thought you wanted to talk?" Jackson questioned teasingly, raising his eyebrows and matching her steps.

"I, uh, ch- Changed my mind." She stumbled as she spoke when she backed into one of the wooden changing benches, arms flailing for a moment as she caught her balance.

"You sure? Because you look a little stressed-" His face contorted into anger again and Amber took a shaky breath, still backing away as he continued, "Is it Stilinski? Things falling apart between you two already?"

She shook her head slightly, lips parting to speak but cut off before she could say anything.

"-Can't say it would surprise me. It's not like you two are gonna last," Jackson scoffed meanly, "You know that one day, he and Scott are gonna decide they don't need a little cunt like you always dragging them down. I mean, what teenage guy honestly wants a chick for a best friend, huh? Now that Stilinski's gotten into your pants, it's really only a matter of time."

His words cut deeper than they probably should have, and she was surprised to find her back thumping blindly against the far wall of the locker room. Amber's eyes went wide when she realized she'd unintentionally caged herself again, Jackson's naked frame towering over her as he stepped close enough that patches of her dress darkened with the water from his still dripping body.

"You're being a dick." She told him.

Jackson scoffed cruelly, "I'm being honest. And if you don't realize that then you gotta be the stupidest bitch in this town. Well, other than Scott and Stiles because they seem to be pretty stupid bitches themselves-"

"Just stop." Amber demanded with a clenched jaw, gaze drifting toward the door to the locker room as she contemplated whether or not she could make it into the hallway before he caught up to her – she wasn't entirely confident that the odds weighed in her favor.

"What are you gonna do, Amber?!" Jackson shouted, his anger seeming to grow as he leaned even closer, "When your stupid bitch of a best friend- When Scott turns on you! What are you gonna do!"

His fists slammed into the wall on either side of her head and she couldn't hold back a quiet whimper as she flinched in fear, her wide eyes glued to the blind rage that had overtaken his face.

"They almost killed Lydia!" He spit the words in her face in sharp reminder, "Who do you think's gonna be next! Hm? Not you, oh no- Because you're in love with Stiles, and Scott's your best friend and he'd never let you get hurt-?" He shook his head condescendingly. His face was flooded with anger and his nose nearly brushed against hers as he continued to tear into her, "Is that what you tell yourself? Huh? If that's what you tell yourself then you're already dead."

One of Jackson's hands left the wall behind her, sharp claws now on display. He stroked them delicately down the length of Amber's cheek before pausing at the edge of her jawline, the sharp points poking at the skin of her throat just light enough that, while they didn't cut through her flesh, the threat was evident. Jackson's lips pulled back in another terrifying snarl and Amber found her heart racing anxiously at the combined feeling of the tips of his claws against her cheek and his naked body against her.

"Tell me, if your big bad werewolf of a best friend really cared, would he really let you walk around without any way to protect yourself?" Jackson's hand drifted, claws lightly skimming farther down the length of her throat as he spoke.

"I, um," She licked her lips as her body trembled anxiously, trying to work up the nerve to do what she needed to, "I wouldn't say I'm totally helpless-"

She threw her arms up and out to shove his hands away from her, thrusting her leg up sharply in the same moment to slam her knee into his naked groin. When he stumbled back half a step in surprise, she moved to rush past him, but she was yanked back roughly by her arm before she could make it more than a step away. Her cardigan tore from her shoulder as he spun her back around and suddenly they were falling through the air. Her back slammed down onto the ground and a pained grunt slipped past her lips as Jackson's weight landed heavily on top of her.

The moment they collided and his naked body pinned her to the floor, Jackson's eyes were widening, lips parted in surprise as if he'd suddenly been broken from a trance.

"Amber?" He questioned in panicked confusion as he scrambled to his feet frantically, "What are you doing here?"

The girl's heart was sill pounding in her chest too heavily for her to formulate a response. Her lips parted in a loss for words as she shuffled along the floor to put space between them. Her back hit the wall and the cold tile pressed against her bare shoulder where her sweater and the thin strap of her dress were still askew, the fabric dangling loosely down her arm. She watched as Jackson reached for a discarded pair of athletic shorts on the changing bench and moved to cover himself.

The locker room door swung open before she could respond and her wide eyes cut across the room to see Scott standing in the doorway, his gaze flicking back and forth between where she was on the floor, looking disheveled and afraid, and where Jackson was still pulling a pair of shorts over his naked legs with frantic movements.

"I- I'm fine," She assured her best friend quickly, "I'm fi-"

Her words didn't seem to quell the way that Scott's face morphed into one of blind fury. It was only then that Amber realized exactly how bad the scene in front of him appeared.

Without a moment of hesitation, Scott was storming toward Jackson furiously and Amber clumsily climbed to her feet as she watched her best friend shove Jackson back through the air with enough force that a row of lockers caved when the boy's body slammed into them.

"No, Scott! Scott, stop! I'm fine!" She repeated quickly.

Jackson righted himself with a renewed rage, "I. Have. A. Restraining order!"

"Trust me, I restrained myself." Scott retorted angrily.

In a blink, Jackson was tackling Scott and Amber watched in distress as they began to throw one another around the locker room with superhuman strength. They moved toward the showers at the back of the room and she heard an unmistakable crack as the tiles shattered from the force of their brawl.

Jackson stepped back into view, breathing heavily and scowling at Amber where she was still standing wide eyed at the front of the room, but before he could make it more than a few steps toward her, Scott was launching himself out of the showers and sending him hurtling back toward the weight benches.

"You guys, seriously! Stop!" Amber pleaded as she watched Jackson grab a forty-five pound weight, his fingers wrapping around the plate and launching it in Scott's direction as if it weighed nothing at all.

Amber squeaked as her hands came up to cover her mouth, but Scott caught the weight before it could crash into his chest.

He didn't get a moment to recover. Jackson rushed forward to kick him back into the wall, tiles cracking beneath Scott's weight only seconds before he was thrown into the row of sinks along the wall.

The porcelain shattered with a loud crash, water spraying from the burst pipes as the boys continued to throw one another back and forth across the room.

"Guys!" She tried again, voice hitching slightly. Her back hit the wall when they moved closer as she tried to stay away from the action, "Guys, stop!"

As if she hadn't spoken at all, the two continued to shove and kick at each other and Amber's heart pounded anxiously in her chest with each minute that passed, growing more and more worried that one of them might truly get hurt. Her hands scrambled as she patted herself down in search of her cell phone, a disbelieving whine leaving her lips when she realized it was in her backpack in the hallway due to the lack of pockets in her attire.

Jackson sent a final hard kick to Scott's chest and Amber watched her friend slam against the locker room door with a loud crash, the door tearing from its hinges as Scott fell back on top of it and into the hallway.

Amber rushed behind Jackson when he immediately stormed out of the room after Scott, the girl finding Erica already restraining Jackson and pulling him off of Scott. Stiles was attempting to hold Scott back while he tried to charge forward again and Amber pushed her hands against Scott's chest as Stiles wrapped his arms around him.

"Scott!" She pleaded, "Seriously, Scott, I-"

"What the hell is going on!"

Amber's eyes pinched shut in disbelief of their luck as she heard Mr. Harris yelling down the hallway, his footfalls growing louder as he stormed toward them.

"Hey!" The teacher shouted when he saw the boys still fighting against the students that were attempting to keep them apart, "Enough!"

Jackson and Scott seemed to deflate at the sound of their Chemistry teacher's angry yelling, both boys slumping against the arms holding them back as they finally stopped fighting.

"What do you idiots think you're doing?" Mr. Harris yelled, looking between the group of teens with a scowl, "Mr. McCall? Care to explain yourself?" He questioned sharply before his eyes drifted to the two teens who had released him but were still standing beside their friend, "Callisto? Stilinski?"

Amber swallowed loudly and looked around, but the entire group remained silent for a long moment.

"..You dropped this." Matt's voice cut in awkwardly, stepping from behind Mr. Harris and handing Amber's unzipped backpack to her.

Her notebook of bestiary translations was laying at the top of her books in a way that she hadn't quite remembered it being when she'd stuffed it into her bag earlier. As she took her backpack from him, she winced at the water dripping from the fabric due to the leak that had flowed out of the locker room and into the hallway.

"You, and you," Mr. Harris pointed between Jackson and Scott before shaking his head and letting his eyes rake across the group again, his gaze even drifting to where Matt was hovering behind him for a moment, "Actually.. All of you. Detention. Three o'clock."

They all slumped at the announcement of their punishment, Jackson shooting them a dark glare before storming off behind their teacher and Matt as they retreated. The moment that the hallway had cleared out, Scott was rounding on Amber with a furious glare.

"What the heck were you thinking?!" He snapped.

She flinched underneath his anger suddenly directed at her and took a small step back from him, "Wh-"

"Why would you guys split up?" He asked loudly, barely glancing at his girlfriend before he was glaring at Amber again, "That was the stupidest, most reckless-"

"Hey, Scott.." Stiles interrupted Scott's enraged scolding to move between them, nudging Scott back a step, "Take it down a notch, man."

"You didn't see the way-" Scott shook his head, his anger seeming to fade suddenly into concern in the time it took him to inhale and exhale. He moved forward again, "I- Amber, are you alright?"

"I- I'm fine, Scott," She promised, taking Stiles' hand gratefully when his fingers nudged against hers in offering, "I told you-"

Scott's chest heaved as he took a breath to keep calm, "If he.. I swear to god I'm gonna kill him-"

"Scott, stop." Amber interrupted, "It seriously wasn't what it looked like, okay? He didn't-"

"What did it look like?" Stiles questioned in confusion, he and Allison both slightly lost in the conversation.

Scott let out another sharp breath, "It looked like Jackson was-"

"I know what it looked like!" Amber cut him off again frantically, not wanting to hear the words, "Scott he was just yelling at me, okay? He was being an asshole but he wasn't going to- He-" She took a shaky breath, "He wasn't going to do anything. Not what you're thinking. He wasn't going to do.. that."

"Do what?"

Allison and Stiles voiced the words at the same time, the former still sounding confused and the latter simply exasperated at being left out.

Scott didn't speak, but he held eye contact with Amber for a long moment as if he were trying to search her face for any trace of a lie, even after having listened to the way her heartbeat remained steady while she'd spoken the words. He nodded slowly in indication that he believed her, his shoulders slumping from their rigid stance. Amber took a small step forward to pull him into a one armed hug, her other hand still extended behind her with Stiles' fingers trapped in her grip.

"I'm okay," She murmured quietly into his ear, "But regardless, I'm glad you came when you did," She said slightly louder as she released him and stepped back, "Did- Did you do okay on your makeup test? Did me and Stiles' flash cards help?"

There was a pause before he responded and she frowned at his moment of hesitation.

"I, uh, yeah. Totally. They definitely helped!" Scott said after a moment with a bit too much enthusiasm.

Amber groaned, her head rolling back on her shoulders, "You weren't finished and you bombed it to get down here and help me, didn't you?"

Scott winced, "Yeah."

Amber sighed, her grip tightening around Stiles' hand as she shook her head to clear away negative thoughts, "It's fine, it's totally fine! Y'know why? We- New game plan! Stiles and I will help you with some extra credit work instead and your grade will just-" She pulled at Stiles' wrist as she slapped her free palm against their joined hands, imitating something shooting up into the air, "We can still fix this."

At the end of the day, Amber was surprised by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist from behind, warmth filling her chest as the scent of Stiles' cologne washed over her. His mouth pressed softly against the side of her neck and Amber's breath stuttered at the feeling. She abandoned the book she'd been pulling from her locker to reach back toward him, fingers wrapping around the back of his neck as she tipped her head at an awkward angle to catch his lips with her own.

"Mm, hello." She greeted quietly against his mouth.

"Hi," Stiles grinned, his arms tightening around her ribs as she turned back to collect her World History textbook, "You ready for detention?"

"As ready as one can be for punishment in the form of forced labor." She zipped up her backpack and closed her locker as she turned in her boyfriend's arms. Her back hit the lockers softly as Stiles leaned into her space to press his lips against hers again in a quick kiss.

"We're going to reshelve a couple books. It's not exactly punitive labor." He commented in amusement, prying her backpack from her fingers and releasing her so that he could drape the strap over his shoulder atop his own bag.

She took his hand in hers and rolled her eyes, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you're supposed to agree with your girlfriend no matter what? Even when you think she's wrong or being ridiculous or batshit crazy?"

"I dunno, I think that might be a myth.." Stiles teased with a barely concealed grin as they headed toward the library.

"I'm just saying.. Maybe you should look into it-" She couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her own lips as his thumb ran softly back and forth along the back of her hand. She changed the subject with a quiet huff, "D'you think Erica really kept all the kanima stuff about Jackson a secret after you talked to her earlier? That she didn't tell Derek?"

Stiles sighed, "I freakin' hope so. You guys only just convinced me that we shouldn't kill him, it'd be a real bummer now if Derek just ripped his throat out anyway."

She winced, "That's.. Graphic."

"Sorry," Stiles made a face, "But, I mean- Wouldn't be the first time, would it? The guy didn't even hesitate when it was his own uncle-"

"That's a little different, I think-" She defended weakly, "I mean, his uncle was a psychopath whereas Jackson's technically one of Derek's Betas. Or, y'know, he would be if he didn't have so much repressed shit-"

"You think Derek being the one to give him the bite would really make him think twice?" Stiles questioned, pulling open the library doors and letting Amber step through first.

She shrugged, "I wouldn't necessarily count on it, but there's no harm in hoping, right?"

She dropped into a chair across the table from where Scott was already sitting and Stiles was quick to claim the one beside her.

"Oh, um, we can't be in detention together," Jackson told Mr. Harris as he sat down in the seat behind Amber, "I have a restraining order against these tools."

"All of these tools?" Their teacher asked with an unimpressed look, eyes flicking over their table.

"No, just us tools." Stiles supplied with a sigh, pointing between himself and Scott.

"Fine. Jackson, sit there," Mr. Harris said with an eye roll, gesturing to the empty seat at the table where Matt and Allison were sitting on the other side of the room before focusing back on the other teens as Erica sat down at an unoccupied table behind the teacher, "You two keep your distance from him."

Their teacher's attention left them to focus elsewhere and Scott took the opportunity to lean across the table, his face pinched tight in anger, "I'm gonna kill him." He stated, eyes flicking over to Jackson before refocusing on his best friends.

"No, you're not." Amber whispered.

"You're gonna find out who's controlling him." Stiles reminded him.

"-And then you're gonna help save him." Amber finished seriously.

"No," Scott whispered with a determined look, attention drifting to Stiles, "You were right. Let's kill him."

"He was not right," Amber whispered sharply, "You two are killing me. Get it together."

"Hey, I'm on your side now, remember?" Stiles defended, reaching out to pat her leg beneath the table as he spoke.

Amber gripped his hand over her bare thigh and squeezed it with a grateful nod.

"Hey, what if it's Matt?" Stiles pondered aloud after a few minutes, his eyes focussed on the boy sitting across the room beside Allison, "-I mean this whole thing comes back to the video, right? It was his camera-"

Scott shook his head, "Danny said that Matt was the one that found the two hours of footage that was missing-"

"Exactly!" Stiles whispered, raising his eyebrows as he continued to make his point, "He's trying to throw suspicion off himself."

Amber and Scott let their gazes drift across the room to watch the boy in question as he crunched on a chip from the snack bag he'd been picking at since the start of detention.

"..So he makes Jackson kill Isaac's dad, one of Argent's hunters, and the mechanic working on your Jeep?" Scott deduced in confusion.

"Yes!" Stiles hissed.

"Why would he do that?" Amber questioned incredulously.

"Because.. He's evil." Stiles supplied slowly.

She peered across the room again and watched as Matt shook his bag of chips across the table at Jackson in offering.

"Yeah, he looks like a real criminal mastermind." Amber whispered sarcastically.

"You just don't like him." Scott told Stiles with a shake of his head.

"The guy bugs me, I dunno what it is," Stiles agreed quietly, "Just.. Look at his face."

Amber pulled her hand from Stiles' with a wince and bit down on her lip, "Does that mean now is a bad time to mention that he asked me to go to that rave concert thing with him on Friday-"

Stiles shot her a look of disbelief, eye twitching as he searched for words, "He what?"

"I mean, as friends, obviously-" She added, feeling slightly guilty from the look on her boyfriend's face.

"But you said no, right?" Stiles whispered, his gaze flicking over her shoulder to scowl at Matt before returning to her face.

She scrunched her nose, "Not exactly."

Scott listened in on their interaction silently, eyes bouncing between his best friends as if he were watching a tennis match while they went back and forth.

"Well what exactly did you say, then?" Stiles followed up.

"..Yes?"

"What!" Stiles said a little too loudly, shrinking back as everyone looked over at him and repeating himself in a hushed whisper, "What?"

Amber dropped her hand over his knee with a sympathetic frown, "I made sure he knew you and I were together and that we'd just be going as friends. And in the end he offered to get a ticket for Allison too," She promised quietly, "I didn't realize you despised him quite so much or else I would've-"

"Well if I disliked him before, I freakin' loathe him now." Stiles glared over her shoulder once more.

She sighed, grip tightening on his leg, "Babe, I'm sorry, but.. I'm not canceling on him after I already agreed to go-"

"I didn't- I'm not asking you to-" Stiles huffed with a shake of his head, "Just, be careful, alright? There's something off about the guy."

She turned her head to look back at Matt again and watched as the boy finished his chips and began meticulously folding the empty bag in half over and over until it was shaped into a small square of trash that he proceeded to tuck away in the pocket of his jeans.

"Right.." Amber drew out the word quietly, unconvinced.

A silence fell over their table, the quiet stretching on for a few minutes before Jackson suddenly pushed out of his chair and began to stumble toward the library doors with a mumbled excuse about needing to use the bathroom.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Harris questioned, looking genuinely worried for the boy in a way that had Amber very nearly rolling her eyes, "You don't look so good-"

Jackson merely pushed past the teacher when they crossed paths, "I just need to get some water." He muttered as he pushed through the doors and exited the library.

Mr. Harris watched him go for only a moment before he moved to follow behind him, pausing at the doors to turn back and glare at the rest of them, "No one leaves their seats." He warned.

The moment the doors closed behind him, Amber, Scott, and Stiles all shared a look in silent communication before they wordlessly pushed up from their chairs and rushed over to the table Erica had taken up by herself.

"Stiles says you know how Jackson's parents died." Scott addressed the blonde, wasting no time with beating around the bush.

Erica looked between the three of them as they sat down and shrugged in nonchalance, "Maybe."

"Talk." Scott urged quickly.

Erica flipped her notebook closed with a sigh and leaned over the table on her elbows, "It was a car accident. My dad was the insurance investigator, and every time he sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche, he makes some comment about the huge settlement he'll be getting when he turns eighteen."

Stiles narrowed his eyes in disbelief, "So, not only is Jackson rich now, but he's getting even richer at eighteen?"

"Yup." Erica grinned at the annoyance in his voice.

"There is something so deeply wrong with that." Stiles muttered.

"The last thing that boy needs is more money to further inflate his ego." Amber agreed quietly.

"You know what?" Erica murmured, opening her laptop and clicking around on the trackpad as she navigated the screen, "I could try to find the insurance report in my dad's inbox.. He keeps everything."

"Scott McCall, Please report to the principal's office. Scott McCall. Principal's office."

Amber had pushed out of her seat and was headed to the opposite side of the table where Stiles and Erica were sitting when the announcement rang out loudly through the PA system. She frowned as she looked at her friend in question but Scott shrugged in response with a frown of his own, patting her on the shoulder as he stood and moved to head down to the front office.

Stiles spread his legs over the sides of his wide chair and Amber settled between his thighs easily so that they could both peer at the computer screen while Erica did a deep dive through her father's old emails.

As the blonde finally pulled up the message thread they were looking for a few minutes later, the doors to the library reopened with a quiet click as Jackson and Mr. Harris came back into the room, but the three teens paid no attention, continuing to read through the attachments as Erica opened them up on the screen.

"Wait, wait-" Amber whispered, her eyes suddenly catching on the words written on the copy of the insurance claim, "Look at the dates."

"Passengers arrived at the hospital DOA-" Erica read from the middle of the page, "The estimated time of death - 9:26 P.M., June 14, 1995." She finished with a questioning lilt to her voice, eyebrows lifting as if she wasn't sure what could be possibly important about that particular piece of information

"Jackson's birthday is June 15." Stiles pointed out, pulling the words straight from Amber's mouth.

Erica turned to blink at them in surprise.

The sudden zing of a zipper rang out through the room and everyone's attention was drawn to where Mr. Harris was pulling his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his things as he moved to leave early. The teens all followed suit in collective relief, beginning to gather their own belongings together before the sound of their teacher chuckling quietly made them pause.

"Oh, no, I'm sorry-" He laughed, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "Uh, yes.. I'm leaving. But none of you are," He explained, stepping up to one of the many wheeled carts stacked high with books, "You may go when you're done with the reshelving. Enjoy the rest of your evening."

Mr. Harris chuckled again as he left the room and Amber's face pinched up in disgust.

"I genuinely hate that man." She muttered, dropping down into the seat again and leaning back into Stiles' chest with a sigh.

Erica's eyes were flicking over the screen of her laptop again, still searching for something following the discovery made by Stiles and Amber.

"What?" Amber questioned after a moment.

Erica closed the lid to her computer and blinked, "They kept his mom on life support until they could get her body prepped for surgery." She explained quietly.

"Jesus." Stiles muttered.

All of their gazes drifted over to where Jackson was leaning heavily over the top of his table, looking slightly sweaty and feverishly unwell.

"You think he's good?" Amber questioned in a whisper, head tipped back onto Stiles shoulder so she could speak quietly into his ear.

Stiles shrugged behind her, "Maybe the bite's finally gonna kill him." He joked.

Amber pinched his arm between her fingers in reprimand, "Cut that out. Now, c'mon. Let's do some reshelving. I'd like to go home at some point today."

Erica rolled her eyes at the couple just as the doors were thrown open once again and Scott reemerged. He immediately came to stand where Amber was already beginning to roll one of the carts of books in the direction of the stacks, nodding his head toward Allison in a motion for her to follow them. Stiles stepped around Amber to pull the cart from the other side, grabbing a book at random once they were hidden away between the shelves and peering down at the sticker on the bottom of the binding as he searched for the place where it belonged amongst the shelved books.

"Did you guys find anything?" Scott questioned his friends as Allison stepped up beside them.

Amber grimaced as she grabbed a book of her own, "Yeah, kinda." She supplied weakly, pushing up onto her toes to shove the book onto a high shelf.

"You guys found something?" Allison repeated curiously, "About his parents?"

Amber and Stiles both nodded, looking at one another silently as they debated who should speak and eventually the girl caved with a sigh, "Well, you know they both died in a car accident-" She whispered, fighting against the flashes of painful memories that cropped up at the reminder of how her own parents had been taken from her, "But it was only a couple of hours before Jackson was born." She continued.

"What does that mean?" Scott asked in confusion.

"It means he was born after his mom died," Amber explained, "..By c-section."

"They had to pull him out of her dead body." Stiles supplied grimly.

"Oh my god." Allison whispered.

Amber nodded in agreement as she reshelved another book, "So, yeah. His parents were killed before tiny Jackson was even born into the world."

"Killed.." Allison repeated slowly, "So, was it an accident or not?"

Stiles shrugged, "The word all over the reports is 'inconclusive'."

Scott leaned on his elbows, resting his weight onto a stack of books with wide eyes, "What? His parents could've been murdered?"

Stiles nodded with another noncommittal shrug, "If they were, then it falls in line with the kanima myth, right?"

Amber nodded in agreement, "It seeks out and kills murderers but.. What, because it had a loved one who was also murdered?"

"Would that go for Jackson? Or the person controlling him?" Allison questioned in a hushed voice.

"Maybe both?" Amber pondered, "I mean, maybe that's why they bonded in the first place."

"Could be." Stiles agreed easily.

"Regardless, I don't think Jackson wants to kill anybody," Amber whispered, "I mean, if he knew what he was-"

"We have to talk to him," Scott interrupted, moving around the book cart to walk to the front of the aisle, "We have to tell him."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Amber countered, stepping forward to follow after him, "I don't think he's gonna listen to-" Scott left the row of shelves without another word and Amber sighed as she turned back to Allison and Stiles, "-And he's gone.. Y'know, he used to listen to me."

"Yeah, him going Teen Wolf and no longer being such a pushover is a real pain in the ass, isn't it?" Stiles lamented in agreement.

"Yes." Amber agreed in discontent.

A loud crash from a few rows over had Amber flinching in surprise, head whipping toward the commotion as another crash immediately followed, the second one sounding out slightly closer.

"Erica!" Scott yelled from another row.

Amber took a nervous step back toward Stiles as her heart picked up in her chest. The next crash sounded from directly above them as a dark blur jumped from one towering bookshelf to another, slamming into the ceiling and shattering lights as it moved. Amber brought her hands up to cover her head as small shards of glass along with styrofoam and dust from the ceiling tiles rained down over them and Stiles pulled her to the ground, wrapping one arm around her waist and positioning the other protectively over their heads.

They heard Erica let out a small scream from the next row and as Stiles lowered his arm slowly, Amber looked between him and Allison with wide eyes.

The shattered light bulbs above were sparking dangerously as electricity continued to flow into them and Amber took ahold of Stiles' wrist as the sound of wood splintering and loud crashes continued from beyond the stack that they were tucked away in.

The familiar screech of the kanima sounded out only moments before Scott was tossed back into a cart of books in need of re-shelving at the end of the bookshelves. Amber made a small, unconscious move to go toward her friend to help but Stiles tugged her back into his arms without hesitation, scolding her quietly.

Scott groaned as he righted himself and he slipped into the row of shelves upon spotting the three of them still ducked down beside the other book cart. He came to a crouch in front of them all, blocking them off from the end of the row and stretching his arms out protectively as Allison flocked to her boyfriend's back.

It was only then that Amber's eyes fell on Jackson. He was stood in front of a blackboard across the room, half-shifted in a way she'd only ever seen when he was unconscious outside of the nightclub, his skin lightly covered in scales though he remained looking mostly human. His head lolled to the side limply as he gripped a piece of chalk and began to write on the board, showing no indication that he knew what he was doing, like a puppet controlled by someone pulling at its strings.

The chalk clicked loudly against the board in the sudden silence as Jackson's unfocused yellow eyes gazed at nothing in particular across the room and Amber gripped onto Stiles that much tighter in unease. Jackson finished his messy scrawl of large letters on the board, remaining still for a terrifying moment before he launched himself out of the second story library window in a loud crash of shattering glass.

Amber let out a shaky exhale and Stiles pressed his mouth to her temple, not quite kissing her but simply panting anxious breaths into her skin as they all took in the message that had been left behind on the blackboard.

STAY OUT OF MY WAY OR I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU

The four rose to their feet, slowly stepping out from the row of bookshelves as the lights continued to flicker and spark above them. Amber's gaze drifted to the next row over as it came into view and she stumbled over her own feet at the sight of the blonde werewolf convulsing on the floor.

Amber pushed past Stiles and fell to her knees, rolling Erica over onto her back until she could see the other girl's face.

"Woah, woah- Hey!" Stiles alerted the others immediately as he followed his girlfriend's footsteps and helped her hold onto Erica while the girl thrashed.

"She's having a seizure-" Amber shouted in confusion, "She's a werewolf! How- How is she having a seizure?"

"Hey, we need to get her to a hospital." Stiles announced obviously.

"Derek-" Erica disagreed in a quick burst, "T-To Derek."

Their grip on the blonde tightened further as she twitched and Scott dropped down to the floor alongside them, looking over to the next row where Allison was checking on an unconscious Matt.

"He's alive." Allison declared.

Scott sighed in relief, his eyes meeting Amber's panicked ones before his gaze dropped down to Erica for a moment. He looked back at Allison, "When we get her to the hospital-"

"To Derek," Erica was quick to repeat, jerking beneath Amber's hands, "To Derek."

"Okay," Amber agreed easily as Stiles sat Erica up in his arms, "Okay, we'll go to Derek." She promised.

Scott was still looking at Allison longingly and he stood suddenly before rounding the bookshelf to drop down beside his girlfriend.

Stiles' head snapped up in annoyance, "Hey, Scott!"

"Asshole." Amber muttered under her breath as she pushed a clump of curls from Erica's face and tucked them behind her ear, "Scott!" She called out again in frustration.

She could hear the hushed whisperings between Scott and Allison but couldn't quite make out the words that were being said and her eyes went to her boyfriend's to meet Stiles' own irritated gaze.

"Scott, go." Allison said loudly.

"Yeah, Scott, get your ass over here!" Amber snapped as she helped Stiles get to his feet with Erica draped in his arms bridal style.

Scott finally approached them again a few seconds later and immediately took Erica's weight from Stiles' arms, carrying her effortlessly as he rushed toward the exit. Stiles huffed quietly in annoyance as they followed behind Scott with quick steps and Amber's hand found his back as they moved through the empty halls.

"I had that." Stiles muttered quietly.

"I know you did." Amber assented, rubbing her hand over his shoulder blades as they rushed down the hallway.

"I wasn't struggling that much. I could've carried her-"

Amber nodded empathetically, "I'm sure you could've."

Stiles huffed as they rounded a corner to head toward the front doors, "Why do I get the feeling you're just trying to appease me?"

"Because I am." Amber said easily, grabbing his hand to pull him to move faster.

"Wh- I mean, I've carried you plenty of times! You know I could-"

"You're very strong, baby, okay?" She placated quickly as they followed Scott through the doors and down the steps to the sidewalk, "But we both know Scott's stronger. There's no point in wearing out your human muscles, right?"

Stiles frowned as he pulled out his keys, "Yeah, I- Okay."

She knew that couldn't possibly be the end of it, the very last thing Stiles was known for was his ability to let things go, or concede in a fight — but it seemed he was willing to drop the subject for now, and Amber rewarded him with a tender stroke of her thumb over his cheek before she climbed into the vehicle.

As sickening as it was to watch Derek snap the bones in Erica's arm to jumpstart her healing process, it was nothing compared to the positively blood curdling scream that Erica let out when he sunk his claws into her flesh to squeeze the kanima venom out through the broken limb.

Amber had never had any real problems with the sight of blood, but as Derek dug his fingers into the skin of Erica's arm and thick red streams of it poured out onto the dirty floor of the train car, she had to hold back a gag as nausea flooded her body.

Stiles' warm breath against her neck as he shielded his own eyes from the gore-y scene was a welcomed comfort. She reached to cup the back of his head and he burrowed his face further into her hair with a wince when Derek tightened his grip once more and Erica's screams started up again.

"Derek-" Amber choked out, tightening her other hand around Erica's as a few tears leaked down the blonde's cheeks.

"I'm almost done." Derek promised them.

The next few minutes were painful for everyone involved and their ears were still ringing with Erica's cries of pain by the time Derek released his grip on her arm. They all slumped in relief at the sudden silence while Erica caught her breath and Derek and Scott were quick to rise to their feet and exit the ratty train car.

Amber stumbled to her own feet, temples throbbing slightly from both the anxiety and the screams that had filled her head for the last couple hours. She gave Stiles' shoulder a squeeze before she followed the path out of the train car in search for where Scott and Derek had wandered off to only moments before.

"You knew who it was." Scott accused Derek as Amber stepped up behind the two werewolves.

She watched with a sick weight in her stomach as Derek wiped Erica's blood away from his hands with a rag before he nodded and spoke, "Jackson."

"You just wanted Erica to confirm it, didn't you?" Scott asked in annoyance.

Derek nodded again but Amber took another step into their space before he could respond, "You're not going to hurt him."

"I'm not?" Derek crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows.

"Face it, Derek. You need help from Scott and his worthless pack of humans," Her words were laced with venom and she almost felt satisfied by the look of surprise on the older werewolf's face, "And we'll help you, alright? But we're not hurting him."

"Amber-" Derek's words were cut off when Scott cut in.

"She's right," Scott nodded seriously, placing a hand on Amber's shoulder in a show of support, "We'll help you stop him. But we do it on one condition; we're gonna find a way to catch him, not kill him."

Derek sighed, "So what's your plan then?"

Silence.

"You want to do things 'your way', but neither of you has a plan?" Derek huffed in exasperation.

"The rave on Friday.." Amber said after a moment.

Derek shook his head immediately, "There'll be too many people-"

"Exactly," Scott agreed immediately, "Jackson won't be expecting us to corner him in such a crowded location and he'll be a whole lot easier to catch if he's not expecting it."

"So, Mr. I'm A Werewolf And I Know Everything-" Amber looked at Derek expectantly, "How does one set a trap for demented lizard-wolf?"

"We could use mountain ash, maybe.." Derek said with a shrug, "But I don't have any."

"Well who would?" Amber asked immediately.

Derek frowned, "Scott's boss might-"

"You think Deaton has this stuff?" Scott questioned.

"There's a lot you don't know about him, Scott," Derek supplied unhelpfully, "And I doubt he'd give it to me, but he might be willing to give it to you."

"Okay," Amber said easily, "So we ask Dr. Deaton for this ashy shit.. What exactly is it though? How is it gonna help us catch Jackson?"

Derek sighed a long suffering sigh before giving them a painfully undetailed run down of how they might be able to use the mountain ash to trap Jackson, but voiced that he was unsure how they'd subdue the kanima once they had him trapped. Scott was quick to insist that Deaton would be able to help them come up with a more thorough plan and that he, Amber, and Stiles would go and speak with his boss after school one day.

"Cool. So we have a week to come up with a plan, then," Amber said, bitterness seeping into her voice as her eyes drifted to Derek again, "I guess we'll just have one of your precious Betas let you know once we have it all hashed out, since you've made sure that it's impossible for any of us to get a hold of you."

She turned away with a huff and made her way down the dark, dirty hallway, needing just a moment by herself as anger pulsed violently in her chest. She flinched when a hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her to a stop in an empty stretch of the abandoned railway cars.

"Amber, hang on a second." Derek said calmly.

Her eyes narrowed, hurt creeping up inside her as she recalled what he'd said just a few days before to shed some light on why he'd entirely cut off contact with her.

I didn't want you to be a part of my pack if you wanted to stay human.

"What?" She sighed weakly.

"I know I hurt your feelings," He said slowly, "And I-"

"You didn't," She lied with a small shrug, "Why would I be hurt?"

Derek gave her a look as if she were being wholly ridiculous, "I know I hurt you," He repeated, "When I told you I didn't want you to be a part of my pack-"

"I'm a part of Scott's pack, remember? You said so yourself. I don't want to be a part of your stupid agro-pack anyway, okay?"

He appeared sad as he frowned at her and she couldn't quite tell if it was hurt or pity swimming in his eyes, but her throat tightened regardless.

He sighed, "I just wanted to apologize, alright? My mother never really considered the human family members to be part of the pack and until I saw the bond that Scott's formed with you, and Stiles, and Allison, I thought that was just how it was supposed to be. I didn't-"

"Didn't want a sixteen year old little girl to get in the way and ruin your perfect pack of werewolves?"

She refused to even look at the older werewolf as she spit his words back at him, her eyes focussed on the dirty cement wall behind him instead. She hadn't even been truly angry when he'd initially said the words, but now that her frustration had pushed its way to the surface, she felt her emotions taking over for the first time since the night she'd turned down his offer of the bite.

"I shouldn't have said that," Derek confessed quietly, "I didn't mean it. I was angry that you turned me down but I shouldn't have pushed you away the way I did."

Her jaw clenched, "No. You shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry."

At his apology, her eyes finally flicked back to Derek and her stiffness loosened slightly at the genuine regret on his normally stoic face.

"All I ever wanted was to help you." She said quietly.

"I know."

"I- I was starting to think of you like a brother and you just.. You said you didn't want me anymore and you left." Her voice caught in her throat and Derek's eyes widened at the shift in her emotions, "I cared about you."

"I.." Derek's face scrunched up like he was struggling entirely too hard with his words before continuing, "I care about you too."

Her face broke into a grin accompanied by glassy eyes as she threw her arms around his shoulders, "Aw, Sourwolf.. I forgive you. For being such a big stupid dickhead."

Derek chuckled quietly as he returned her hug and Amber's chest felt decidedly warm.

"Oh, come on! Alpha paws off my girlfriend. For the love of God." Stiles' voice exclaimed as he rounded the corner.

Amber laughed as she released the werewolf and she took Stiles' hand in hers as soon as he was at her side, "How's Erica?" She asked.

Stiles smiled sadly, "Healed. She passed out but she looks a lot better than she did."

Derek nodded at his words before moving past them and Amber's arms looped around her boyfriend's waist the moment they were alone. She nuzzled her head into his neck and he huffed an amused laugh as he returned her embrace, combing his fingers through her hair in a familiar motion.

"What's up?" He asked quietly.

She shrugged and attempted to bury herself deeper in him, "Are you and Scott ready to go?"

Stiles hummed a confirmation before dropping his arms around her waist, "Should I carry you to the Jeep? To prove my more than adequate human strength?" He tightened his arms and lifted her until her toes could only just brush the ground but she shoved him away with a squeal of laughter.

"No," She said quickly as she moved down the hall, "Nope, no carrying necessary. Let's go get Scott. We can start planning Operation Capture Jackson on the way."

Stiles ran up behind her and she broke into laughter again while dodging his attempts to get his arms around her, tangling her fingers with his instead as she pulled him along.

"Stiles!"

Amber fisted the fabric of his flannel between her fingers in the scramble for something substantial to hold onto as her voice rose.

"I'm serious! Put me down!" She demanded in a shout.

"Nope," He slammed the passenger door of the Jeep closed and turned to head inside the house, his hands gripping her thighs tightly to ensure she didn't fall from the place where she'd been thrown over his shoulder after insisting he help her from the vehicle in what she'd thought had been an act of chivalry, "Not until we're upstairs. I'm-"

"You have proven your point!" She found herself laughing despite the way his shoulder was digging somewhat painfully into her gut.

"Not yet."

As he stepped into the house, Stiles took a moment to toe off his shoes while using one hand to pull Amber's from her feet and dropping them to smack against the floor one at a time.

"I'm wearing a dress!" She squealed when he still didn't set her down. She suddenly found herself desperately hoping that none of his nosy neighbors had been looking through their windows at the right moment to receive a full view of her ass as he'd carried her inside.

"You sure are," Stiles agreed as he moved past the entryway and deeper into the house, his right hand sliding dangerously further up her thigh as he went, "Thanks for that, by the way. It's a nice view."

She pinched his backside in retaliation as he began to climb the stairs and his knees buckled worryingly for a moment in surprise on the bottom step.

"Do not drop me, Stilinski-" She threatened seriously.

"Don't distract me!" He countered.

"You're being ridiculous!" She argued, watching with unease as the distance between her head and the floor grew, "And you're lucky I don't get motion sickness because looking down all of these stairs is mildly terrifying-"

"I'm not gonna drop you." He promised.

He made a point of tightening his fingers around her thighs further to reassure her but his actions had an entirely different effect. She had to bite down on her lower lip painfully to hold back the quiet moan that threatened to escape as his fingers dug into the soft flesh just beneath the roundness of her ass, his thumb dipping torturously between her thighs as he squeezed, the tip achingly close to pressing against her lace-covered core. So close, she could very nearly taste it.

When they made it to his bedroom, Stiles unceremoniously dropped her down onto the bed and she quickly propped herself up on her elbows to look up at him in disbelief, her cheeks flushed with heat.

"That.. Was so unnecessary." She said breathlessly as she pushed herself to sit up at the edge of his bed.

Stiles only grinned, "Told you I could do it, though. I'm not even winded. In fact, I could've-"

His words cut off in surprise when Amber dragged him forward with a hand fisted in his shirt, his knees bumping the mattress as he stumbled to a stop between her parted legs. She blinked up at him while she continued to catch her breath, tongue poking out to wet her lips unconsciously as her gaze flicked from his eyes to his mouth.

Stiles watched the movements and leaned down suddenly with one knee on the mattress between her thighs to pull her into a kiss, his hand gliding over her jaw to cradle the back of her head until his fingers could tangle in her hair.

She groaned into his mouth, her arms sliding across his shoulders to loop around his neck so that she could pull him down against her as she fell to her back on the bed. The sparks that had pooled in her belly crept lower, fluttering excitedly between her legs as his weight settled on top of her and she sighed contentedly through her nose when he deepened the kiss.

His fingers skimmed with the ghost of a touch over the skin of her biceps, dragging up past her elbows where he untangled her arms from around his neck to push them down against the mattress. His hands trailed back toward her own to tangle their fingers together once her arms were splayed out on either side of her head. When his lips left hers, she tipped her head back while his mouth left a wet trail of kisses along her jaw and down the length of her neck.

Her hips canted up reflexively as his teeth scraped softly over the sensitive skin of her throat, his warm breath tingling along her skin, and Stiles groaned into her neck when her pelvis made contact with the growing bulge at the front of his jeans.

"Stiles-" She breathed as his hands tightened around hers, arching up against him again in a desperate search for friction.

The scratch of denim was rough against her bare thighs as he shifted between her legs. The smell of his body wash still lingered on his skin from his morning shower and it filled her lungs with much needed oxygen while simultaneously filling her head with a giddy static that left her reeling, like the black and white fuzz of a channel that didn't come in on the television.

His lips trailed lower to leave hot kisses along her collarbones, his hands releasing her only so that he could slide her sweater from her shoulders, the strap of her dress following suit and slipping down past her elbow. His mouth was quick to find the newly revealed skin of her chest and she groaned while he stripped her of her cardigan completely, allowing him to tug it down her arms and toss it blindly over the side of the bed.

She pushed his own overshirt from his shoulders in response and his hands gravitated back to her skin the moment it was stripped away so that he could hike the fabric of her dress up, his thumbs pressing into her flesh intoxicatingly when he reached the tops of her thighs. She helped him drag the fabric up over her stomach and chest, tearing the dress over her head in a quick movement.

Stiles stared at her in awe for a moment before he was crowding her back against the bed to recapture her lips. Their tongues danced between hot breaths but eventually he was leaning down to reattach his mouth to the skin of her chest with wet kisses instead.

She felt his hands slip beneath her back to tug at the clasp of her bra. His mouth paused distractedly where he'd been kissing at her skin and the offer to assist him was on her lips when the fabric suddenly fell loose around her chest.

"Got it," Stiles boasted quietly, pulling the article from her body and throwing that behind himself as well, his lips immediately gravitating back to her chest, "Stupid demon contraption-" He muttered against her skin before sealing his mouth around a pebbled nipple.

The moan she let out was pornographic as her spine arched up from the mattress, chasing the feeling of his mouth, of his teeth scraping lightly against the bud while his thumb brushed lightly over her other breast.

It felt all too sudden when he pulled back and she blinked at him in confusion, feeling ridiculously disheveled from just fifteen minutes of kissing and a few seconds of his mouth on her tits.

"Hickeys," Stiles said simply as they looked at one another with lust-filled eyes. He licked at his swollen lips before continuing, "How do you feel about hickeys if they're not on your neck? Y'know? Is that still a no, or-"

She nodded wildly, "'S fine, that's fine."

An excited grin spread across his face and Amber wondered for a fleeting moment if she'd later regret granting him permission, but the thoughts were cast out of her mind the second he bit down on the sensitive flesh on the side of her breast, teeth sinking into the softness with a sudden and pleasurable sting.

She keened and gripped at the back of his neck as he sucked harshly on the sensitive skin before moving on to a new spot, his mouth leaving a smattering of biting kisses over both her breasts, littering her with spots in a wide array of pink and purple. He gripped her waist tightly, one hand holding her still as he worked while the other trailed down the outside of her thigh to pull her leg up around his hip.

When he finally kissed his way back up to her mouth, she angled her head to deepen the kiss immediately and reached between them to press her palm against the bulge beneath the zip of his pants as their tongues tangled. Stiles groaned into her mouth and she was quick to begin working at the button on his jeans, tugging it free and yanking down the zipper before pulling at the fabric at his hips.

He leaned back to rid himself of his jeans and slipped back into the space between her thighs in a flash, his hips rolling down against hers lightly as he reattached their mouths. He didn't waste any time before his lips were dragging back down her neck and chest, leaving a wet trail in their wake as he kissed and licked at her skin.

She was about to plead with him to do something but the words died on her lips when he moved lower, kissing a line down her stomach and nipping lightly at her hip bone before trailing lower still and repeating the treatment he'd given her breasts on the skin at the top of her thighs with teasing bites and kisses.

His fingers finally hooked beneath the waistband of her underwear and he slipped the fabric down her legs until they were out of the way, absentmindedly leaving them hooked around just one of her ankles in his rush to get back to the task at hand.

His head dipped down between her thighs tongue first and Amber cried out, gripping desperately at his shoulders over his shirt as he began to work his mouth against her clit.

"Yes," She praised simply in a low whisper, "S-shit."

He slid a hand up her stomach to massage her breast and she found herself having a hard time holding back the breathy noises that left her as he alternated between licking down at her entrance and moving a little higher up to flick his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves there instead. He swirled around her clit a few times, warm and soft and so fucking incredible, before he was flattening his tongue to apply more pressure.

"Sti-" She gasped, "Shit, y-yes. Just like- You- S-shit-"

Her chest was heaving with strangled breaths, fingers digging into his shoulders desperately as she tried to vocalize how good he was making her feel.

Her thighs began to tremble with the build of her orgasm, legs tightening around his shoulders as he worked her closer and closer to her peak. She was teetering on the edge, gasping and whining slack-jawed, when Stiles closed his lips around her clit and sucked lightly, his tongue still flicking against the nub, and her orgasm suddenly crashed over her in a wave of white-hot pleasure. Her hips twitched beneath him and his name spilled from her lips as her whole body jerked with her release.

He didn't back off until she began to wriggle uncomfortably beneath him from overstimulation. He haphazardly wiped the slick covering his mouth off against the love-bitten skin of her thigh before he crawled his way back up her body to drop his forehead against hers, their noses brushing lightly as she caught her breath.

"It- It's almost annoying how good you are at that." She murmured, tipping her chin up to catch his lips against hers lightly.

Stiles grinned in satisfaction at the compliment and he leaned down to slot their lips together more firmly, the taste of her own arousal lingering on his mouth.

After a moment of recovery, Amber reached down to wrap a hand around the hard line of his cock over his boxers, a surprisingly large patch of precome dampening the fabric, his length warm and heavy in her hand. He huffed a sharp breath into her mouth and she pulled back from the kiss slightly to peer up at him, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted as she tightened her fingers around him and worked her hand slowly.

Stiles groaned weakly when she released him but she ignored his noises of protest, forcing his boxers down his hips and pushing at his shoulders determinedly until he was laying on his back. She pulled her own underwear up over her thighs again before discarding his and settling between his spread knees.

He was achingly hard now, his cock long and thick where it curved up his stomach, the head of it red and leaking a small trail of precome into the dark hairs of his happy trail. She took him back into her hand while pushing the fabric of his shirt up his chest slightly, her fingers scratching through the damp trail of hair that led up from his groin before pressing into the tensed muscles of his stomach.

She fought not to cringe at the action as she spit over the tip and began to jerk him off in earnest, thumbing away the strand of connection to her mouth. Her embarrassment washed away in a flash of confidence when Stiles let out another devastatingly weak groan, the sound of it high and breathy.

Her hand tightened at the head, collecting the precome leaking from his tip and combining it with her own spit with an easy twist of her wrist before slipping her fist back down his length, the glide smooth and noisy with the slick of the makeshift lubricant.

She leaned down slowly after a moment of simply pumping him with her fist, guiding the head of his cock to her lips. She watched him watching her — watched the moment his eyes slipped shut with a curse and his thighs twitched as she wrapped her lips around the tip.

"Oh, shit." He hissed, hands tangling in her hair, his fingers fumbling to gather her it away from her face so he could watch her move with no obstructions when he looked down again.

She swirled her tongue around the head once, relishing in the stuttered noises of desperation that Stiles was letting out, the way his thighs twitched as he tried not to thrust up into the heat of her mouth, the muscles of his stomach growing firm beneath her palm as he tensed.

"Babe. Baby, I'm-"

As he moaned, she was tightening her fist around the base, sucking lightly at the head and suddenly, Stiles was coming with a groan, warmth coating her tongue as his muscles tensed further and his grip tightened in her hair. She pulled back slightly in surprise, swallowing what was in her mouth, the taste of it salty and slightly metallic. She rubbed her thumb over the slick tip while come continued to shoot out in weak spirts, watching her boyfriend twitch with the waves of his own release, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed rapidly beneath dark hair and pale skin.

"Holy.. shit." He whispered, hips jerking and eyes closed as the last dregs of his release coated her fingers.

She waited, momentarily mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest with labored breaths, before she reached past him to grab a tissue and began to wipe the mess away from the bottom of his stomach and her hand. When she reached back up for a second tissue, Stiles halted her movements to look at her with wide eyes.

His thumb rubbed along her jaw softly, "Oh my god," He whispered, "I'm.. So sorry. I just.. Shit. I'm sorry." He repeated quietly, looking adorably flushed from embarrassment or his orgasm or possibly some combination of both.

"What exactly are you apologizing for?" She asked curiously, her hand trailing up his cheek as she reached up to drag her fingertips through the softness of his short hair.

He grimaced, "Well first off for having, like, zero restraint whenever you're on top of me and always embarrassing myself by coming in like ten seconds-" He began quietly, "But mostly for just coming in your mouth without any warning-"

Amber knocked their foreheads together as she snorted an amused laugh, "Mhm. Totally unforgivable.." She teased, "But I guess.. Just this once.."

She leaned down to give him a kiss but his head tipped away to avoid her lips as he continued.

"I'm serious. I swear I usually last longer, but-"

"Usually?" She repeated the word playfully, "What, when you're jerking off in bed all by yourself?"

His nose scrunched up cutely in annoyance, "Well, I.. Yeah."

She laughed, "Aw, Sti. I'm sorry that having a real life half-naked girl on top of you is proving so detrimental to your sexual stamina."

"It's just not the presence of a naked girl that's been ruining me. Y'know, just for the record," He said quietly, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear as he continued, "It's that it's you."

"You're ridiculous." She blushed despite herself.

"I'm serious," He corrected, "I've wanted you for as long as I can remember and as if listening to the sounds you make when I'm eating you out aren't bad enough, then you actually get your hands on me, tits out, and you look up at me with those freakin' eyes while you put my dick in your mouth?" He shook his head with a small smile, "Nope.. No fuckin' way. I don't stand a chance."

"You're a pretty smooth talker aren't you, Stilinski?"

"I'm not trying t-"

She silenced him with a kiss, their mouths separating and quickly reconnecting in fluid movements until she had no choice but to lean back so that they could both catch their breath again.

"We should probably get started on homework if we don't want to end up like Scott." She commented reluctantly.

"I'm not sure it's even possible to fall as far behind as Scott," Stiles squeezed her hip lightly, "But you're probably right."

Amber leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve his underwear, passing them to him before crossing the room to dig around in his dresser for something comfortable to wear, "What do you want to do for dinner? Is your dad working late or should we maybe wait for him-?"

As she spoke, her eyes caught on a rolled up bundle of white cotton at the back corner of the drawer and she pulled it out excitedly, rubbing her thumb over the faded logo on the front before tugging it over her head.

"Working late. Again." Stiles sighed as he stepped up behind her, swapping the drawers to pull open the one stuffed with his sweats and pajama bottoms. He paused in his search for a pair of pants and grabbed at her shoulder curiously, "What shirt-?"

His words cut off as she was turned to face him with an excited grin on her face. She stretched her arms out at her sides with a flourish as she showed off the shirt she'd uncovered from the depths of his dresser.

"How long d'you think it's been since this even fit you?" She laughed.

Stiles was staring distractedly at the way her hardened nipples poked out beneath the faded Star Wars logo covering her chest and he shook his head after a few seconds of deafening silence before responding, "I, uh.. I dunno. Maybe when I was twelve? Thirteen?"

The soft worn cotton of the shirt only reached the tops of her thighs, not quite long enough to cover her underwear completely and Stiles was weak to do anything but immediately crowd her back against the dresser. He toyed with the loose collar, fingers brushing against the column of her throat, and her heart stuttered at the warmth of his body pressed against her. His free hand slipped beneath the hem to run along her stomach, sliding back to the bottom of her spine while he tugged the collar to the side and dipped his head to press his lips softly to the base of her neck.

"Sti, we.. We're supposed to be getting dressed-"

"Maybe we should get undressed one more time, and then get re-dressed." He suggested before kissing her neck again.

"Homework. Studying.."

She sighed, closing her eyes and tipping her head to the side in contradiction to her words so that she could bask in the feeling of his mouth just a little longer. The knowledge that they needed to be responsible did nothing to quell the heat that pooled beneath lace as he nipped lightly at her skin, just soft enough to teasingly suggest the threat of a real bite.

She gripped the warm skin of his hips, fingernails digging into pale flesh as she let out a breathy sigh and relaxed back against the dresser.

She let him continue for a long minute before pushing him back slightly, cupping his face in her hands, "Homework. We'll do homework and eat something and then maybe, before bed.."

Stiles groaned, "Fine."

She kissed the pout on his lips lightly, "We're making good choices."

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

#selenophiles #2x07 #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles imagine #stiles x oc #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski x oc #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan o’brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien fanfiction #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf fic #teen wolf stiles #*

[credince--writes]

mor·tal·i·ty Chapter 1

Masterlist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!OC x John "Soap" MacTavish

Description:

TF141 has been disbanded, and they have returned to civilian life, forming a PMC company focused on logistical consulting of the operations they once preformed. John MacTavish never truly recovered from the accident, and never let Simon back in to pick up the pieces that were left. Camile Ford had never been one to bend the whims of morals, never stepping to close to dance with the fire of her own mortality. But divinity calls her name, and she's never been one to ignore the higher powers calling her name.

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

Johnny never really recovered from that last mission. Enough was evident by the time they’d been dispersed back to their homes, respectively. Two weeks of no contact had been enough to warrant Simon breaking into his flat with a credit card and the meat of his shoulder- opening the door to a studio flat that smelled like old beer and piss.

He dosen’t remember what happened, exactly. But he does know it was enough for Simon to force him into the back of his car, stuff a duffel bag full of his dirty laundry scattered around the floor. One framed photo that’d long since been knocked off the wall in a fit of rage, shattered on the floor. He can only imagine the infuriating look of pity and disgust displayed on Simon’s face as he entered the room, finding him rotting on a mattress Johnny hadn’t dared to even put a fitted sheet on. He was a bad dog. He didn’t deserve the comfort of civilian life. He needed to be muzzled, and locked in a kennel.

He needed to be left to rot, to pick the flesh off of his bones and weep.

Beg for forgiveness.

They had all left the service, after that last mission. It hadn’t been all at the same time- but it had been staggered closely enough that he wasn’t able to hide from the faces of his previous teammates nearly long enough. Truly hadn’t even scratched the surface of his grief before he was being wrestled out of bed, kicking, screaming, biting and snarling trying to solicit any reaction from his lieutenant. He wanted to be met with retaliation, anger, spite. He wanted to be punished. He wanted to have the pain he craved inflicted upon him.

He was met with love.

He despised it.

Every time he fought back, every time he bared his teeth trying to lash out with any kind of hurt he could think  to warrant a reaction- he was met with nothing but softened brown eyes and a tone of forgiveness. I know how hard this is for you Johnny, and I won’t let you go through this alone. I love you.

Seven months into their broken, codependent and avoidant, hate and love, thing. Simon’s phone rang while Johnny sat at the island of their shared apartment, staring intently at the cup of steaming liquid in front of him. The side glance Simon had given him as he stepped out of the room panged someone deep at his pride- the adults were talking, obviously Simon couldn’t risk him being within earshot. Laswell calling in a favor, exchanging into something more of an opportunity to fill a needed void- one they had probably contributed too.

He’d found out, not much later that Laswell had set Price up in a fancy little office. Fit the big ol’ mustache into a suit, shined shoes and combed hair to create some type of consulting security company out of the states. What that really meant was- a front for a deep rooted PMC system that trained, or consulted to whatever Laswells file dictated. Much more separated from the boots in the sand, blood dripping down skin approach Simon had been used to in the past- however he’d found solace in the pen against paper. Fingers tapping against keys, assistants, meetings, some type of purpose in life that hadn’t directly come from the value of him, personally, at least, dragging a knife through the cartilage and arteries of his victims throat.

It was at this point Johnny had simply swayed between not caring about anything- and violent bouts for independence from the smothering weight of it’s ok, and i’ll love you regardless of the words you don’t mean.

He very much means them, and he puts every ounce of willpower into throwing as much bile against the man. Somewhere between realizing that he truly had let himself go- and Simon’s surprising ability to overpower him just by grabbing him by the back of the neck and pinning him to any surface to get him to stop from his own self destructive tendencies, did he realize how he could hurt the man- and make it stick.

And he left.

A note, scratched out onto paper.

You can’t love what never loved you back.

#Mortality #simon ghost riley x john soap mactavish #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #simon riley x john mactavish x reader #Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader x John “Soap” Mactavish #call of duty

[smashtbh]

Can I have a billy X male reader, where the M!reader is "innocent" but not he actually cause once you piss him off he a whole different person m!reader is a person who can control his self-esteem but one day someone is missing with him calling him names the reader lose his self esteem and beat the shit out that person and Billy falls in love with him and ask him out on a date and mreader accepts?

I’ll request more!!

-👾

Let Loose

Billy Hargrove x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!

not my gif!

CW: drugs n alcohol, swearing, violence, bullying, homophobia, billy lowkey simping, billy’s 10/10 flirting skills, pretty cutesy towards the end.

he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.

a/n: lololol the end is a lot cuter than i intended it to be

(disclaimer: a lot of this was written while i was high, so if something doesn’t make sense — you’ll know why. also small confession, i write most of my fics while im blown af.)

“You hear about the new guy?” The dude that’s been hanging around Billy asks. He doesn’t know his name, not that he cares — the next party he attends, he’s probably going to have another accomplice following him around at school.

Billy takes the last drag from his cigarette and stubs it out, “Why should I care?”

“Heard he’s queer.” The guy says and Billy can’t help but stiffen at that. He isn’t allowed to react — if he did the guy would get suspicious. “Easy target for some cash.”

Billy doesn’t say anything, just pulls out another cigarette and nods. He hopes that this guy doesn’t go looking for the new kid — hopes that the dude has a smooth transition because Billy knows of all the homophobia that lingers in Hawkins.

Though Billy would be considered a bully, he hasn’t made fun of anyone for being a homosexual. He is one, and it took him a long time to come to terms with it. He knows how difficult it is, especially since he’s closeted and has to go through lines of faceless girls to keep his rep up.

As he’s thinking, he sees a car that isn’t familiar to him park across from where he’s standing against his Camaro.

“That’s him!” The guy next to him says and Billy kind’ve forgot he was there.

The new guy gets out of his car, he’s pretty — anyone with eyes would say so. He’s locking his door and fumbling with his keys when a group of girls comes over to him, excited about a new face.

He’s bashful, Billy notices. He’s constantly running a hand through his hair and the girls are giggling about his biceps, while the poor guy just leans against his car in an attempt to get some personal space.

The new cigarette Billy pulled out is forgotten when one of the girls reaches a hand out to touch the guy’s arm. He drops it and walks over to the group.

“What’s goin’ on over here, huh?” Billy says, mocking their principal’s voice and the girls laugh.

One of the girls turn to Billy, he recognizes her — definitely an old hookup. “Have you met Y/N yet?” The girl says and Y/N doesn’t look too excited to meet him.

Billy offers a sly grin, “Y/N, huh? Billy Hargrove.” He holds his hand out, but Y/N glances away.

“It’s nice to meet you and all, but I’m gonna be late.”

“S’alright.” Billy mutters as Y/N walks into the school.

“What a nerd.” The girls giggle.

Billy just stares at him. At his back and ass. He’s surprised by how quiet the guy seems, but leaves it at that — conversing with the girls.

A couple days later, Billy sees Y/N again. There’s a gang of guys around him — but they don’t seem to be friends.

“C’mon, don’t be a loser.”

Y/N sighs, loud enough for Billy to hear from where he’s standing. “I’m not a party person.”

“We can tell,” They stop to laugh, “but we’re inviting the entire school, so you gotta go.”

They’re walking further away now, but Billy can only assume that Y/N agreed because they’re all cheering and shaking the shit out of him.

At least Billy’s got something to look forward to.

The night of the party comes around and Billy is hanging around this random group of people when all of a sudden, there’s loud screaming. He sees Y/N surrounded again. Poor dude can’t seem to get a break.

“Stop being a fuckin’ loser and drink the shot!”

“Dude — I gotta drive home, I’m good.” Y/N is calmly declining.

The crowd around them is cheering, screaming a chant to get him to take the shots. Billy ditches the group he’s with to get closer.

“Tonight is the night you throw away that ‘good boy’ title, c’mon!” One of the guys are yelling, every word agitates Y/N a bit more.

“I said I’m good.” He yells, just loud enough for the crowd to hear him, then proceed to boo at him.

One of the guys scoffs, turns to the crowd and shouts, “Looks like we’ve got a pussy!”

Everyone laughs, Billy is watching Y/N’s every move — sees how he clenches his jaw and fists.

Billy is a lot closer now, almost in the circle of commotion. He hears when Y/N speaks up, “Keep it up, asshole.”

“Maybe I will, gay boy.” The other guy says, and the crowd cringes at that — “oohs” and “oh shiiits” come from the people around them.

Y/N goes still for a moment, Billy blinks.

The other guy is on the fucking floor. With Y/N on top of him, beating the shit out of this dude. He’s impressed with how quickly Y/N was able to take him down, finds it kind’ve attractive.

People are backing away quickly, but Billy moves closer. He’s right behind Y/N — and he means to grab him off the guy, but he wants to let him fuck him up a little bit longer.

That piece of shit deserves it anyways.

After a couple of seconds Billy tears Y/N off of him, pulling the both of them away from the crowd.

They’re outside now, and Billy is holding Y/N against him.

He stares at him for a bit, amazed at how perfect Y/N still seems to look even after he’s just made a fool out of some dipshit. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

Y/N pushes away from Billy, breathing hard from the adrenaline. “Oh,” Y/N dusts himself off, “it’s you.”

“Yeah, remember me?” Billy smiles, then glances down at the blood on Y/N’s knuckles.

Y/N looks down and shrugs. “Sorry. I beat the shit outta him, huh.”

“Damn right.” Billy says dreamily.

Y/N laughs and sits back against the wall of the house. “Thanks, for taking me out of there — “

“I could take you out.” Billy says quickly.

“What?” Y/N raises an eyebrow.

“Let’s go out.” Billy crouches down to his level on the ground. “I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

Y/N sits up straighter. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Depends.” Billy reaches his hand out to graze a finger over the cut on Y/N’s eyebrow. “You’re — you like guys, right?”

“Depends.” Y/N smiles, cringing at the pain on his brow. Billy caresses his face in apology.

Billy laughs and takes Y/N’s hand in his. “Go out on a date with me, L/N.”

“I don’t remember telling you my last name.”

Billy blushes a bit at that, “I do my research.” He sits on the ground with him. “You keep dodging my questions.”

Y/N grins, “Well they aren’t exactly questions, Hargrove.”

“You’re a dumbass.” Billy scoffs, and smacks his shoulder lightly. “Will you go on a date with me?”

“So polite of you, how could I refuse.” Y/N says with sarcasm dripping off of his words. “How do I know this isn’t some kind of joke?”

Billy frowns. “Why would I joke about something like this?”

Y/N shrugs.

“I swear this isn’t a joke — I don’t just go around asking pretty boys to go out on dates with me.”

“You don’t even know me.” Y/N mumbles.

“I know but,” Billy stops for a moment, “I want to.”

Y/N sighs and lets his head fall against the wall. “Promise me, Billy.”

Billy leans towards him, lowering his voice. “I promise that I’m not joking, and that I’m actually asking you out because I think you’re an absolute badass.” He bites his lip. “And you’re hot as hell, so that’s a bonus.”

Y/N huffs a laugh and wraps his arms around Billy’s neck, pulling him into an embrace. “Six tomorrow sound good?”

Billy smiles against him, tucking his head into the crook of Y/N’s neck. “Six it is.”

likes, reblogs, & comments are appreciated!

#stranger things #stranger things x male reader #male reader #billy hargrove x male reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #x male reader #mlm #gay #angst #fluff

[cyi-can-you-imagine]

Hey my friend, since you’re taking requests how about this?

When Sam and Dean get back to their hotel room after hitting the local bar to have a few drinks after a successful hunt, Sam is going to remind Dean who he belongs with and to. Marking him up for everyone to see.

Thanks!!

The Game

One shot. Because why not. Yes, it’s wincest.

Sam’s across the bar, leaning against a stool, drinking a beer. He’s watching some guys play pool. Dean’s just watching. Making sure Sam stays safe. Plays by the rules. But he’s also been watching this one particular guy - who hasn’t left Sam alone since he walked back there. But Dean’s not worried.

The guy puts his hand on Sam’s shoulder, and Dean’s cheeks burn.  He takes a shot of whiskey. He knows Sam’s his. He knows the rules of this game. He’s not worried.

Sam laughs and touches the guys knee and the guy suddenly leans closer to Sam and says something Dean can’t hear. He sees Sam look in his direction, just for a second and turn away. He shakes his head ‘no’ to the stranger. Dean feels a pull on his heart, but he’s not worried. He takes another shot of whiskey.

Sam knows better than to break the rules.

Sam takes a long, slow drink of beer, finishing the bottle. Dean watches intently as he sees the guy eyeing Sam’s neck. Sam doesn’t bring the bottle down soon enough. The man licks his lips and leans in - and kisses Sam unexpectedly on the neck. Sam doesn’t move and the man leans in again.

The music suddenly sounds way too loud. Dean stands up and clenches his fists. Sam should probably stop the guy there. Sam likes to play, but he never lets another guy touch him. 

Sam doesn’t pull away though. His body is relaxed and loose. 

Dean feels his stomach drop. The man pulls away and Sam smiles at him. He looks the guy in the eyes and nods. Dean can see what’s behind Sam’s eyes and his head starts to spin. Sam looks up at him and winks. Dean knows instantly what Sam’s done.

He hasn’t played this game in months.

The man steps away and touches Sam’s face as he excuses himself to the restroom. Sam’s eyes follow him, and the guy turns to look before heading inside. Sam waves at him. The guy winks back.

Dean’s walking up to Sam now, ready for a fight. But before he can open his mouth, Sam’s on top of him, pressing his lips hard onto his brother’s. He pulls away and laughs, dragging Dean outside with him. 

“That game doesn’t work anymore Sam, I’m not jealous. It just pisses me off. You’re only supposed to flirt. that’s why we -,” Dean pauses as they reach the car and slide inside, closing the doors quickly. “That’s not the game we were playing, why’d you change the rules on me, baby?” 

He doesn’t sound pissed off, thinks Sam.

“Why, are you jealous, big brother?” Sam teases, his lips right by Dean’s ear as he puts the keys in the ignition. The hot breath on his skin turns Dean on more than he wants to admit.

“I’m certainly not jealous!” Dean continues to argue even as he backs out of the space. He hasn’t looked over at Sam yet.

“Yes you are, you should have seen your face! and your body language? Admit it,” Sam laughs as they drive away - just as the man walks outside looking for a someone that would never be his.

“Am not!” Dean says through clenched teeth. His hands grip the wheel.

“Okay, De,” says Sam softly as he unzips Dean’s pants and slips his hand inside.

“Sam, don’t, I- oh…”

“I knew it,  Sam breaths hotly in Dean’s ear again, and he nearly swerves off the road. Sam laughs and backs off. 

“Shut up Sam,” moans Dean as he looks for the nearest motel.

#wincest #Dean's totally jealous #Sam plays a dangerous game

[weyrleaders]

screaming rattling the bars of my cage clawing at the walls here have the church rescue but from the other side

as with before we got some violence here

Now that group didn’t look like they were invited.

Ray leans over the edge of the building, watching as a squad of seven dressed in black tactical gear file out of two vans and make for the door. They don’t have anything too fancy, from the looks of it. Just handguns and a few small knives poorly-concealed on their belts.

He’s just reaching the fire escape when the shouting and gunfire starts, and he makes it to the ground as the doors burst open and out comes Aster, carrying Orla in his arms.

Ray’s face twists into a snarl. If she’s hurt that badly they may have to—

Orla steps away from Aster, completely unhurt. Ray can tell from the set of her shoulders that she’s pissed.

Aster’s already halfway to the door when she shouts something after him. He doesn’t slow or look back at her, just runs inside the building.

So Loverboy wasn’t getting their gravely-wounded boss out of the line of fire. He just swooped in and carried her off like some sort of helpless damsel. Ray coughs to fight off a laugh.

Aster is so in trouble.

Orla must hear him coming, because she turns as he trots to a stop next to her.

“I’m not going to ask what the hell you’re doing here,” she says. “We can’t get back in the front.”

“We’d probably be walking into an ambush,” he agrees.

The door opens slowly and a young woman creeps outside. Ray watches her out of the corner of his eye, and he’s reasonably sure Orla is doing the same.

“Jax has the keys, doesn’t he.”

Orla nods. The woman presses herself against the wall, trying to slip past them. Ray waits until she turns her back to pounce.

He slaps a hand over her mouth before she can scream, pinning her against the wall. She’s not dressed like one of the party-crashers. Must be a Viper.

The woman flails, and Ray tightens his grip with a theatrical growl. Orla leans in on her other side, and the woman goes still.

“There’s another way out of the building, I’m sure,” says Orla. “Where?”

“If you scream, I’ll break your neck,” Ray sing-songs. He’s lying, of course, because dead women tell no tales, but she doesn’t need to know that. He uncovers her mouth.

“Tunnel!” She gasps. “There’s a tunnel—Underground hideout. It connects to the church a few blocks over.”

Orla gives Ray a nod, and he tosses the woman aside. She scrambles to her feet and runs.

“I think I know the church,” he says.

“Our Saint of Mercy,” Orla replies. “We passed it on the way here, and it’s the only church close enough. Get there while I find a car.”

Ray takes off, hopping over a trash can to get into the alley.

It probably doesn’t take long to get to the church. But it feels like a century, knowing Jax and Aster are right under his feet, just out of reach. 

(Which is a thought that Ray files away to revisit never.)

Ray almost considers seeing if he can nab anyone down there, but the odds of the tunnels being close enough to the surface for him to pull it off without seeing his target are slim to none. So he just runs instead, ignoring how his breath tears his lungs raw.

The few people he encounters are quick to get out of the way, shouting profanities that he’s too wired to catch. He can see the steeple up ahead, just barely taller than the surrounding buildings.

The cracked parking lot is empty, so the strangers probably haven’t got someone watching the place. Amateurs.

Ray doesn’t bother to check, just books it across the lot to the side door. He shoves a hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and slides his newly-liberated spiked knuckles onto his hands.

He expected the door to be locked, so it slams against the wall when he tears it open.

Jax is running toward him, hauling an alarmingly-bloodied Aster behind him. Five of the seven people who went in are in pursuit, two closing in while the other three take aim.

Ray’s a violent sort of guy, sure. He’s broken noses, set fires, stabbed whoever Orla said to stab wherever she said to stab them. He’s cut water mains and break lines and more than a few throats.

He doesn’t normally black out first, though.

When Ray comes to, he’s on his hands and knees on the bloody basketball court, catching his breath. His face throbs in time with his racing heart and his mouth tastes like iron. Might just be the adrenaline, but he doesn’t really hurt anywhere else.

He stands, surveying the battlefield. There’s a man near the door, lying in a pool of blood with his arm outstretched toward it. A woman against the wall, hands lax in her lap, jaw hanging on by tendon and skin. Two more against another wall, one haloed by blood and viscera where Ray must’ve slammed them against it until they stopped moving. The other’s throat is shredded, and Ray licks his lips curiously, noting a nick near the corner of his mouth. He glances down at his shirt.

“Arts and crafts day,” he mutters, picking at the red stain down the front. His collar is probably soaked too, but with any luck it’s not obvious against the red fabric. The tag feels tacky when he checks to make sure it’s still there.

He hears someone hiss in pain, and slowly turns to see the last member of the merry band trying to slink toward the door that must lead back down into the tunnels.

Their eyes meet, and Ray sees the fear in their eyes.

Might as well finish the job. Leave no witnesses that Orla will have to send Aster for. He darts over, drawing back his fist. They have enough time to raise their arms in a futile attempt to block his punch, but of course they fail. They collapse, blood spilling across the floor.

Damn, he missed these beauties. He raises a clenched fist to kiss one metal spike, only to sputter a second later to spit out a stray hair.

Right.

Ray crosses his impromptu abattoir and steps outside.

Jax is, once again, just on the other side. Gun in hand, poised to charge back in. He straightens, lowering the pistol, and stares. Ray grins as Jax looks him up and down.

Fuck, he wants to kiss him. Wants to see if Jax will lick the taste of iron from his mouth. Wonders if Jax would lie still under his hands as assures himself that yes, Jax hasn’t been hurt, or would he be too busy doing the same to Ray? Would he even care enough to worry?

“Did you fucking bite someone?” Jax asks after what seems like hours.

Ray can’t hold back the laugh it startles out of him.

“Woof, woof,” he replies.

#to clarify aster and orla are not A Thing it's just that aster sucks at hiding His Feelings #ray would never bring it up to his face thought because he knows that aster would probably kill him for real even though orla said not to #also ray cant drive and i assume orla can so that's why she's getting a car #she pulls up thirty seconds later like 'throw aster in the trunk and lets go before he bleeds out' #rywd

[eriquin]

The Trolley Problem, part 23

Jonathan comes home. They manage to not fight about Carol trying to kidnap Will. Everyone goes home, except for Eddie. No one knows what's going on with him.

(master post)

They made their way out of the house and had a debate about how to travel. Were they bringing Will with them, or was someone going to stay at the house with him? They never even considered leaving him there alone. Carol didn’t like the idea of anyone staying in that house, so he was coming with them. Were they all going in one car, or were they going to split up to bring both vehicles with them? Tommy’s truck had a weird dent in the fender and he was worried about seeing splashes of monster gore on it in the morning, so he didn’t want to leave it behind. They could probably all fit in Tommy’s truck, but Carol pointed out that it would raise a lot of questions if someone found Steve’s beamer there. 

“If we want our story to work, we need to get his car back to his house,” Carol said. “Steve, I’m sorry, but one of us is going to have to drive your beamer.”

Tommy cringed, prepared for a fight about how Steve’s beamer was practically brand new and he didn’t trust them not to crash it, but Steve just shrugged and waved his hands at the car. “Keys are in it,” he said. “Knock yourself out.” 

Carol’s eyes went wide as she tried to hide her excitement. She turned to Tommy and said, “Okay, so the plan is this. I’ll take Will and drive Steve’s car back to his house. You take him to the emergency room and get him stitched up. We’ll regroup after. It’ll be like we were never here.”

“Other than the kid we’re kidnapping?” Tommy asked. He was joking, but Carol shot him an angry look.

“We are not leaving him here,” she said, wrapping her arm around Will’s shoulders. 

“I know! I was just kidding,” he said. “We can figure that out later. Let’s just get out of here.” 

He got Steve into the truck and Carol herded Will across the lawn and into the beamer. Both vehicles started fine, and Tommy waited until Carol got the beamer turned around before putting his truck into gear and following her. 

They weren’t even out of the driveway when Carol stopped. There was another car coming in, and it was blocking the way. Steve groaned. “Shit,” he said. “That’s Jonathan’s car.” 

Sure enough, Jonathan Byers was climbing out of the driver’s seat. He looked confused for a second, and then he looked pissed when he spotted Will in the car with Carol. He started storming towards the beamer and Tommy had to scramble to intercept him. 

“Hey, hey, Byers. Give me a second to explain,” he said. His brain was spinning for an explanation and coming up with nothing good. “This isn’t what it looks like. We are definitely not kidnapping your little brother.” He winced at his own words. The fact that he’d pulled out the worst thing he could have said would have been funny in other circumstances.

Jonathan’s pinched face glared at him and he flexed his hands, curling them into fists. “Will, are you okay?” he yelled, barely sparing a glance at the boy. He was ready to fight, and Tommy kept his arms stretched out in front of him like he was trying to distract a wild animal.

Tommy heard the truck door open behind him. “He’s okay, Jonathan,” Steve said. “I promise, he’s fine. He’s safe.” 

Carol sat frozen in the driver’s seat of the beamer, looking like she was about ready to drive off through the woods rather than let Will get out of the car. But Will touched her arm. He said something quietly to Carol, and she nodded, and he got out of the car. 

“I’m okay, see?” Will said. He went to Jonathan’s side, and the older boy patted him down to check him over for injuries. 

“You sure?” Jonathan asked. The tension in his posture had drained out of him as soon as Will had gotten out of the car, and he sounded concerned but no longer angry. Tommy relaxed a little bit. Jonathan took another look at everything. His eyes glanced over the dent on Tommy’s truck, the bandage around Steve’s hand, and the blood on his shirt. It all made him suspicious, and he asked, “What happened?”

Tommy’s mind flailed as it tried to come up with an excuse for all of this that Jonathan would buy. Their plan about saying Steve cut his hand open on a piece of glass was not going to fly. “Uh, there was... An accident?” He winced at how bad it sounded. 

Jonathan’s brow wrinkled in confusion. “An accident? What kind of accident?” He leaned over to look behind them and towards the house. “Will, where’s your bike? What the hell happened?” His voice rose in pitch like he was getting ready to freak out at them again.

Will was a quicker thinker than any of the rest of them, though, and he tugged at Jonathan’s sleeve. “Let’s go back to the house,” he said. “I’ll explain everything. You just need to move your car so they can go. They need to take Steve to the hospital for his hand.” They could see Jonathan mouthing, ‘what the fuck,’ to himself as he let his little brother drag him back to his car. 

Will gave the rest of them a weak smile and a wave when he got to the passenger door. Steve stepped forward and called out for him to wait. They all froze, and he closed the distance to Will with Jonathan glaring confused daggers at him the whole way.

“Will, listen. The lights,” Steve said as he took Will by the shoulders. He glanced at Jonathan briefly, and Tommy could see the way he was fighting with himself about his words. “If the lights go weird... Not flashing weird like the demogorgon, but softer weird. That means Eddie’s there. He’ll be able to hear you. Tell him... Tell him...” 

“I’ll tell him we’re looking for him,” Will said. He nodded so hard that his hair bounced around. “I’ll tell him to stay safe.”

Steve relaxed just a little then, and let Will go. He stayed off to the side as Will and Jonathan got in the car and drove the short distance back to the house. Carol turned in her seat as they drove past, and Tommy thought for a minute that she would turn Steve’s car around to follow them back. She’d gotten attached really quick to that kid. He tapped on her window and gestured that they had to get a move on, and she rolled her eyes at him and put the car back into gear. They were back on the main road before long, and then back to Steve’s house. 

Once they were in familiar territory, everything went just as he and Carol had planned. He and Steve went to the hospital together. Tommy kept to the script, but Steve had trouble. He just kept getting more and more mopey as the night went on. Tommy tried to get him to chat a little bit, to keep his spirits up so that the nurses wouldn’t tell Carol’s mom about how strange he was acting, but he wouldn’t budge. 

They didn’t get back to his house until past midnight. Steve spent the whole drive back staring at the stitches in his palm. “He warned me not to cut my hand,” he said quietly. Tommy wondered if he was talking to himself, or expecting a response. “He was right. This is stupid. It’s gonna take forever to heal. How am I supposed to keep the stitches dry? Am I just not supposed to wash my hands?”

“Yeah, and it’s gonna suck to play basketball with that,” Tommy said. He glanced over at the passenger seat, but Steve was leaning against the window and staring blankly at his hand. He looked totally lost, and didn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive.

When they got in, Carol said that Steve’s parents had called and left a message on the machine. She warned him not to call back until after school tomorrow, because he could tell them that he hadn’t answered because he’d stayed over Tommy’s house.

“Okay, so now you’ve got stitches and a doctor’s note. If you want to call in sick tomorrow, I can pretend to be your mom on the phone to the school,” she said. 

“S’fine,” Steve said. His eyelids had been drooping for hours now, and he looked about ready to pass out on the couch. “You guys can head home. I’ve got it from here.”

Carol wrinkled up her nose like that was the dumbest thing she’d heard in a long night of dumb things. “Uh, no. We’re staying over. Duh.” She pulled the phone book out of the side cabinet under the phone and started flipping through it. “I’m starving. I’m gonna order a pizza.”

“Carol, it’s like one in the morning,” Tommy said. “Everywhere’s closed.”

“Fuck, you’re right,” she said. “Well, then I’m making sandwiches. I know Mrs. Harrington has the stuff for grilled cheese.” She headed into the kitchen before they could argue with her.

“Don’t burn them!” Tommy called after her.

“Fuck you, that was one time!” 

Tommy sat down on the couch next to Steve and patted him on the back. He was still staring off into space. “One memorable time, right bud?” he said. 

Steve slowly turned to him, blinking a few times. “Carol burning grilled cheese?” he said quietly as he caught up to the conversation. Tommy nodded. “Weren’t we, like, twelve?”

Tommy laughed. “Yeah, man. I don’t know why we even tried to cook. There was so much smoke, and I ended up throwing all the burned bread and the pan out into the snow. Her mom was so pissed at us.” 

He got a small smile out of Steve for that one, but it didn’t last long. Steve rubbed his eyes and pushed himself off the couch. “You know, I meant it, Tom. You and Carol can head home. I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with worse injuries than this.”

“What, in your weird future memory thing?” Tommy asked. He followed Steve out to the sun room and watched him stare out the big windows at his pool. Steve didn’t answer him. “Listen, man. I know you remember a lot of weird shit, but that doesn’t mean... I mean, maybe the version of Tommy you remember was an asshole, sure. Maybe all that happened just like you said, but it hasn’t happened yet. I’m here now, I know about the weird monsters, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Steve turned back to look at him and he stared for a while. Tommy wasn’t sure if he’d even heard what he’d said. “I forgot what you were like, Tom,” Steve muttered. “I can’t believe I forgot.” 

Tommy grinned. “Come on, man. What would you do without me?” He patted Steve on the back. “And, for the record? Carol would kick my ass if I tried to back out of this now. So let’s go eat whatever she’s burning, yeah?” 

He herded Steve along. Carol had made a mess in the kitchen, but was in the middle of cooking four perfectly golden sandwiches on Mrs. Harrington’s griddle. She slid them onto plates when they were done, two each for Steve and Tommy, and then got to work on her own. Steve stayed quiet as he ate, and Tommy tried to fill the silence by teasing Carol about how she was ready to adopt the little Byers kid. She looked like she was about to throw the spatula at his head, but he didn’t worry about it. She had terrible aim. 

Once she had her own food, she sat down on the other side of Steve and bumped shoulders with him. “Okay, so here’s the plan,” she said. 

Carol made great plans, in Tommy’s opinion, but hunting monsters and dodging government agencies was a little outside of her expertise. She had instructions for the immediate future, but none for the bigger picture. 

“You stay home tomorrow,” she said, pointing at Steve. “Tommy and I will do damage control at school, if we need to. We’ll probably have to figure out what Will told his brother and manage that, if he has questions. And we need to figure out what to do about Munson. Like, who’s going to be missing him and stuff.”

She didn’t say it meanly, but Steve flinched anyway. “What the fuck, Carol?” he hissed. “I’m going to be missing him.”

“No, I mean...” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. They were all exhausted. “Who is going to report him missing? Like, his friends? His parents? I think he cuts school a lot on Mondays, so people might not even think it’s weird yet.” At Steve’s scandalized expression, she tried to soften the message even more. “I think that’s a good thing, Steve. If they don’t know he’s part of this lab-monster-thing, then they won’t start looking into what happened yet and we won’t have to, like, dodge government spooks and stuff.” 

Steve hung his head. “Yeah, I get it, just...” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Eddie literally said that no one would care if the monster got him, like it was a joke. Like, someone has to care, right? His friends? His uncle? It can’t just... When it was Will, they searched the woods for him. The whole town. Put together a search party and—” He gestured towards the back window, where the woods stretched out from the edge of his backyard. “They’re not gonna do that for Eddie, are they?” 

“Will is twelve,” Carol said. “Eddie’s, like, eighteen. They’re gonna think he ran away or something.”

Steve pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned. “It’s not fair,” he said. “If anyone was gonna get caught, it should’ve been me.” 

Tommy looked over at Carol, who was pouting and looked like she was about to cry. “Come on, Steve,” he said, patting his friend on the back. “If it had been you, then we’d have no one to tell us what’s gonna happen. We can fix this. We’ll get him back. I mean, you guys got Will back, right?” 

“Yeah, like a week later,” Steve mumbled. He sniffled and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what else is gonna change. I don’t know if he’s even alive. Will’s the only one who survived, the first time. No one else.” He hung his head and nudged at his plate with his fingers, letting it scrape on the stone countertop. “Barb didn’t.”

Carol got down from her seat and came over to tug on Steve’s arm. “Come on, Stevie,” she said gently. “You need to rest. We’ll figure it out in the morning.” 

Steve looked at her and then back at Tommy. “Are you guys staying?” He sounded small, like he was a little kid again. 

“Yeah, buddy,” Tommy said. “We’re not going anywhere.” 

#the trolley problem #time travel #stranger things #steddie #my writing

[lurkingshan]

I think if you had to compare a QAF character with Boston it would be more like Stuart (UK version). He is much less caring and more vindictive than Brian - and has zero moral compass. He viciously fucks his best friend's career and relationship up, and drives a car through a shop because someone pissed him off. In fact all of the bunch in the UK version are much messier than the US version, so I think Jojo likely took more inspiration from the OG series. I just hope he didn't take any inspo from the plot where all the 'friends' let their friend die from an overdose because they ignored him/didn't care enough to check on him (pls no Ray).

This is terrifying insight, anon! I am not at all well-versed in the original Queer as Folk (UK), but the character you describe does sound much closer to Boston, though he seems to have a touch more self-control. I think the talking heads frame up from episode 2 was also a direct homage to the UK version, so you’re probably right that Jojo is referencing the UK version more directly.

I can’t imagine they’d kill Ray (the tone of this show is just not dark enough for that) but low key I am pulling for more ambiguous or downbeat endings, because they just would feel right for this story.

#only friends the series #queer as folk #shan answers

[twistnet]

sinking heart [ chris alonso ]

⋯ SUMMARY ; chris’ drinking problems seemed to have come to a head, and you’re at a loss on what to do further

⋯ WARNINGS ; female!reader, tw [ mentions of alcoholism, death + bad coping mechanisms ], angst [ arguments + bar fights ], general fluff [ hurt//comfort + hugs ] + mature language

what had started as a simple misunderstanding, had turned into an full-blown argument -- decising chris’ drinking habits and the downward spiral path she was on. not to mention, the large bruise that had begun to form just under her eye.

you had been the one to answer the door at the sound of the lock clicking open, face dropping into one of concern as chris and victor entered the apartment. chris had quickly ducked past you towards the bathroom, leaving you with victor as she freshened up, “what... happened?”

“bartender kept her keys. called me to pick her up. i... found her like that already, so i truly don’t even know what she had gotten into before i showed up.” he stated, gesturing to his eye in reference to blooming color on chris’ face. you nod, hands shaking lightly as you suck in a harsh breath, “how long has she been like this?” victor questions lowly, eyes glancing toward the bathroom to make sure chris wasn’t listening in on the conversation.

you shrug, “honestly... i know just about as much as i do. i know she’s been going out -- where i don’t know, but she’s never come back... this bad.” you utter out, arms crossing over your chest as you settle back against the edge of the counter. victor’s shoulders sag, “has she... talked you to at all about what happened with erika?”

“no. i... tried to, but she’s been insistent on handling it herself. and i... i don’t know how else to get her to talk when she doesn’t want to. she gets upset, storms out of the house, probably spends the night at someone’s house, and i don’t see her until after her shift. then, it’s like walking on glass until i bring it up again, and the process repeats.”

“why didn’t you come to one of us?” victor questions, eyes furrowing as you shrug your shoulders and cast your gaze down to the floor, “didn’t want to put her in jeopardy at work. i...

“hey... what’s going on here?” chris questions, looking between the two of you suspiciously as she makes her way into the kitchen. victor offers her a gentle smile, “just waiting back to make sure you’re okay. if you’re good, i’ll get out of your hair for the night.”

“thanks for bringing her home, victor.” you smile, walking him toward the door as chris lingers behind, busying herself with the state of the kitchen counters as she begins throwing boxes of takeout food and foil into the trash can, “anytime. later chris.” he bids, before stepping out into the hallway and heading back towards his car. 

“you gonna tell me what the two of you were talking about?” chris utters as you lock the door back up, angrily throwing old containers of food into the trash, “are you going to tell me how you got that bruise on your face?” you ask back, arms crossing back over your chest as she scoffs before letting out a laugh, still angrily throwing things into the trash.

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself, chris. you are drowning yourself in alcohol thinking it’s going to keep you from drowning in the guilt over erika’s death. i’m worried about you.” her face hardens at the mention of her friends name, hand slamming the trash cabinet closed as she takes a few steps closer towards you, “i already told you, i’m fine! there isn’t a need to worry about me. i’m handling my feelings in a way that i feel comfortable. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“not when you’re coming home every night drunk off your ass and pissed off because the bartender wouldn’t give you back your keys! it’s not helping you, or anyone because you aren’t getting the right kind of help! alcohol isn’t going to make things better like you think they are!” you state, throwing your hands up in frustration as chris steps back, anger building on her face until she turns, stomping around the apartment until she comes across your keys and begins heading for the door.

“chris? chris! where the hell are you going?” you ask, eyes widening as she grips the handle to the door, twisting open the locks before whipping around to face you, “just leave me the fuck alone!” she states, before slamming the door closed behind her. tears well in your eyes as a hand comes up to wipe away the stray tears falling down your cheeks, it had been the opposite of what you had wanted.

you walk over to where chris had gone through your things, throwing them back into the organized pile you had before settling onto the couch, phone perched on the arm of the couch with the ringer on -- just in case someone called to let you know of chris’ whereabouts. 

hours lately, you were awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window. having realized you had fallen asleep some time in the night while waiting up for chris to come home. and yet, a look at your phone only confirmed what you had previously thought -- no one had called you, and chris was most likely still out god knows where.

so, as you sat up from the couch, shuffling into the kitchen to make some coffee, you were surprised smell an overwhelming amount of alcohol radiating from the sink. and after looking around for a bit, you found bottles empty of alcohol in the recycling bin, neatly stacked atop on another. and upon further investigation, everything alcohol related had been cleared from the freezer and cabinet chris usually kept her spirits.

feet pattering against the floor caught your attention, and you turned just in time to see chris come around the corner from your shared bedroom, looking a little better than she had the previous night, “hey.” she utters softly, noting your slight hesitance to greet her before offering a simple reply back.

it takes her a few moments to work up the courage to say the words lingering around in her mind, fingers twisting anxiously as you busy yourself with making your coffee to hopefully lower the raising awkwardness in the room, “i want to apologize for last night... and all the nights i came home in the same state.”

looking up, you lock eyes with her, before nodding softly as a way to let her continue on, “i thought a lot about what you said, about how i’m drowning in other things to cover up the drowning i’m already doing. and, i realized that i was just avoiding... everything.”

“where did you go last night?” you question, wanting to know she was at least safe during her endeavors outside the apartment that late into the night, “deacon’s. he got me set up for an early appointment with doctor hughes, and... we talked. she’s got me scheduled for a couple of sessions each week.” you nod softly, letting out a breath of relief that she hadn’t ended up in an accident or somewhere bad. 

“i’m sorry... “ she apologizes, trailing off before you step forward and wrap your arms round her frame. chris sinks into your embrace, cheek resting against your shoulder as her own arms come out your waist, holding you close to herself, “you don’t need to apologize, chris. i’m here for you, and that’s all i wanted you to know.” she nods against your shoulder, eye closing as she lets out a sigh of relief, sinking further into your hold before your arms drop from her frame, “how about some breakfast, and then we can watch some more of the tv show you’ve been liking?” you offer as chris nods with a smile.

“that sounds great. you up for breakfast tacos?” you nod, sliding around the kitchen to gather the things needed, as chris files through the cabinets for all her spices and toppings before sliding into the space beside you, “thank you for having my back.” she whispers softly, eyes fluttering shut as your lips press against her forehead, “you’ve always had it, babe.”

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[tf2yall]

merc driving headcanons? good, bad, crazy etc. drivers? :)))

Scout

Scout has a driver's license. He always knows where it is because he has to get it out every freaking time he wants to go to a bar. Scout pitches a big fit about it everytime lol. He's an adult goddammit!

Scout is a uh... questionable driver. To say it nicely.

Doesn't wear his seatbelt, constantly speeding, pretty much always a distracted driver. Has crashed his car... too many times...

His older brother taught him how to drive and honestly he was as hyperactive as Scout so you know. Not exactly much actual learning going on.

Scout doesn't do much driving. He doesn't own a car and no one's crazy enough to let him use theirs. He's fine with that. There's nowhere he really wants to go anyways. He can amuse himself just fine at base.

Soldier

Does Soldier have a driver's license? No. Is that going to stop him? Also no.

Everybody has come to an unspoken agreement never to let Soldier drive. Ever. Not after that incident with the golf cart

He's a fucking maniac on the road. Stop light??? What's that?? Turn signal???? Who???

Essentially treats driving as a more horizontal kind of rocket jumping. Does not seem to get that you're supposed to drive on the road...

Tuefort probably has a special insurance plan for 'Soldier ran into my living room with a truck' lol

Heavy

Didn't learn to drive until he left Russia, and he was already in his 30s by then.

An incredibly safe driver. Follows all of the traffic rules perfectly, properly uses his turn signals, always has his license close at hand. He's just genuinely good at driving.

...up until the point when you piss him off.

Heavy's patient, but when he loses it oh he fucking loses it.

Can and will drive into other cars. Doesn't care about the damage done to his own, Engie'll fix it. GET OUT OF HIS FUCKING WAY LITTLE PEOPLE, HEAVY HAS PLACES TO BE

Will return to base with the front end of his car completely totaled and just hand the keys to Engie and tell him to fix it. Engie's currently in the process of 'upgrading' the car so he doesn't have to fix it so often.

How is he doing this? Well, with Engineer logic of course. By adding more gun. And then a little more gun. Just to be safe.

Demo

One of the better drivers on the team

If he's sober, he's actually a really good driver. Behaving himself like a good boy :) Hasn't run anyone over unlike some of the mercs *cough Medic cough*

Doesn't do a lot of driving because he's smart enough not to drive drunk. And Demo's pretty much always drunk lol

Also won't drive outside of the UK. He's used to driving on the left side of the road, and he's a little concerned that he'll just default to that side without thinking and get himself in a car accident

Demo does road rage but not to the extent of some of the other mercs. He'll swear and curse at them bad enough to make a sailor blush but he's not gonna actually get out of the car and fist fight them in the street

Pyro

Can't drive? Maybe?? No one's ever seen them drive so?? But they also seem to just show up in random places so they have to be driving??? Right???

Pyro doesn't actually have a driver's license. They just never really wanted to learn.

Interestingly enough, they do have a pilot's license though...

Engie

Another one of the good drivers. Mostly. Like most of the other mercs, Engie road-rages. And he road-rages hard.

He won't yell or scream, but if you take too long at a light he will get out of his car and politely inquire why you're not moving, whilst also politely offering to rearrange your intestines for you

Tends to be the designated driver amongst the mercs because he's the least likely to get in a car crash or drive the car over someone on purpose

Engie owns an old, rusted, beaten-down truck. It runs just fine, it just looks like it's going to fall apart if you so much as look at it wrong.

Medic

Medic has a driver's license. Medic should not have a driver's license.

He's an angry little man and will not hesitate to run people over or ram into other cars

'Zhey where on zhe road, zhey knew the risk!'

'doc pls u killed twenty people'

Whistles or hums along to the radio when he drives.

Spy

An amazing driver! Excellent job, Spy, you're one of the most competent drivers on the team.

If you ignore the fact that he's mentally jotting down the license plates of anyone who annoys him.

His car is his baby and he doesn't trust any of the mercs to be in it, nevermind drive it.

He likes to just go for nice relaxing drives sometimes

Sniper

Genuinely a really good driver. He canonically uses his turn signal ffs

His mom taught him how to drive and he will make her proud by always following traffic rules

Doesn't exactly road rage in the traditional sense. He doesn't yell, but he does kinda sit there and seethe, mumbling insults under his breath.

Very stuck in his ways and will not replace his camper until it physically cannot move anymore

#i didn't have a lot to say on some of them lol #hope u enjoy <3 #tf2 headcanons #scout #soldier #heavy #pyro #engineer #demo #medic #sniper #spy

[5hitp0stn4tion]

bro, i'm not gonna lie but i fucking love bill.

for all his stubbornness, bill really cares about everyone he meets. frank falls into a trap that bill set up for infected folks who stumble his way. bill not only helps him out and lets him shower, but makes him a better meal than i've probably ever eaten in my whole life. he could have sent frank on his way with a piece of toast. but no. he indulges frank with some decent-looking wine (idk i don't drink) and some well-cooked food.

and yeah, bill and frank argue - everyone argues from time to time, they're not perfect - but he still gets frank anything he wants. frank wants the paint to fix up the house? sure, he thinks it's a waste, but he got the paint because frank wants it. in fact, bill got frank enough paint that frank had the opportunity to take up painting at some point in the last ten years of his life. frank wants to fix up the boutique? ok, bill doesn't see the point in nice clothes at the end of the world but frank wants them. frank invites random people from their version of the internet to the house? oh hell, bill is pissed off. who are these strangers and why are they in his house? but he still made the effort to clean himself up and cook them nice food and pair it with a nice wine. why? BECAUSE FRANK FUCKING WANTED IT!

he has a plan to make sure that frank isn't left lonely if he dies - and he's prepared it well enough that he knows the entire thing off the top of his head and can recite it even while he's bleeding out on a table. he's happy to spend the rest of his life catering to frank's needs, even with his degenerative condition - which bill had no way to prepare for.

bill cares tess and joel too, even if it isn't as obvious. aside from the obvious 'take care of tess' that he leaves for joel, there's other things too. he has a box full of women's clothes stored in the house - which ellie takes from - which are undoubtedly for tess. he's not mad when one of his guns was traded for a packet of strawberries - and even though i would kill for a packet of strawberry seeds at the end of the world - he's probably more ok with it because he knows that his gun is going to someone he trusts. he trusts tess and joel enough to keep constant contact with them through the radio - he has a stupid song system set up so that the music fits in with frank's theme. he leaves the note and the key to joel, knowing that joel and tess would need everything that he had acquired in his 20+ years of preparation - although he wouldn't know that tess wouldn't make it to see them dead. he knew joel well enough to know that it would be joel that found them and joel that would protect others (obviously bill presumed that to mean tess but we can extend that to ellie) - and like frank said, 'paying attention to things - that's how we show love.'

he pays attention to the wants and needs of his partner - the paint, the good food, the 'allowing company even if he doesn't trust anyone in the whole world except frank'. he pays attention to the wants and needs of joel and tess - giving them everything he owned when he knew he was going to die even if everything was of utmost importance to him, keeping contact to keep them out of danger, feeding them good food and nice wine.

he spent the whole time that he was couped in this little town trying to show how much he loves everyone around him. he comes off as a grouchy, loner, survivalist - the true doomsday prepper, but realistically he's just smol gay cinnamon roll who wants to protect the people he cares about, and i think that that's precious.

(p.s. i know that in the games he supposed to serve as a warning of what joel could become - which is a grouchy, isolated loner with no friends and family - by posing as an example of what that kind of emotional isolation does to you. he sort of just shows up, gives you the car battery you need, fights some infected, and is on his merry way. but i think the way they went about it in the show is so much more effective because despite having those characteristics, he still managed to have a happy and fulfilled life. he becomes a figure to aspire towards for joel - who has some of those same characteristics - instead of an image of what not to be. it shows joel that actually emotional availability, even when you are angry at the whole world and have given up on happiness, can be a good thing. and i think that's also really sweet, because despite not even being around to see the change, he could massively impact joel's life.)

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