#ash and lydia got a cat

[rhoorl]

Turbulence | Part 4

Pairing: Frankie x reader (will turn into an OFC)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link

Word Count: 7k (sorry!)

Summary: The conclusion of this little arc. These two enjoy the rest of their weekend.

Warnings: MDNI. Alternating POVs. Some angst and some fluff. Nervous Frankie. Allusion to a previous bad relationship (infidelity). Swearing. Unprotected P in V. Oral (f receiving - duh, it’s Frankie).

A/N: Apologies for the delay! This ended up being a lot longer than I intended. I thought about breaking this up into two parts but I think it’s just better as one. This is my first time writing Frankie smut so I’m a bit nervous (although it's not the main focus of this chapter). 

 “Ok and if we can get one more with the whole bridal party!” 

Bless the photographer and her assistant because wrangling this group is akin to herding cats.

“Your boy here yet?” Ash muttered through their smile as we all posed for a series of shots.

“Yup, just got a text,” I said, trying to conceal my smirk as Ash slapped me on the ass. 

“Hell freaking yeaaaah!”

Once we finished with the photos, I walked up to Carol and hugged her. She told me to have fun and gave me a knowing look, confusion etched on Dave’s face. Truth be told, her reassurance made me feel better about slipping out.

I spotted Mom and Aunt Lydia already at the bar, so I told Ash to cover for me should they ask where I went. 

“Have fun!” Ash winked as I grabbed my things and made my way out of the venue, trying to keep a steady pace when all I wanted to do was sprint out of there so I could see him.

Frankie didn’t quite know what he should do. Get out of the truck, walk up to the aquarium, and wait? Stay put in his truck? Seeing a couple of men dressed in suits smoking outside, he suddenly remembered how casually he was dressed and felt a bit self-conscious. It didn’t feel right to just sit in his truck scrolling on his phone waiting for her; it made him feel like he was just there with one thing in mind…although that was on his mind.

He took a deep breath and decided to get out of the truck, figuring he’d stand in front of it and lean onto the hood as he waited. It only took a few moments before he saw her walking out of the building with a bag in tow. His breath caught in his throat seeing her in person again.

“Hey,” she raised her hand for a small wave as she scurried across the parking lot toward him.

“Hey,” his hands twitched at his sides as he pushed himself off the truck. It only took a few steps to close the distance between them. When he reached out she slotted perfectly into his arms, just like she did at the airport. He breathed in her scent, feeling her arms tighten around his neck.

He pulled back, appreciating her beauty while trying to be respectful. He couldn’t help as his gaze quickly flitted down her body before finding her eyes which he loved so much. She twirled the ends of his curls between her fingers as he softly chuckled, “You…look beautiful. Way better than the picture.” She feigned offense and giggled as Frankie tried to recover. “Shit, I mean, the picture was nice…it was great…fuck…” he shook his head. “Can I start over?”

“I know what you meant Frankie, I’m just giving you a hard time,” her nose crinkled as her arms trailed down his shoulders, rubbing his biceps. 

“Ha oh,” he blushed.

“So…BB-8 huh?” She pulled at the hem of his T-shirt.

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Another one of Pope’s ideas….so, you ready to head out? You sure you’re ok to leave, I don’t want some bridezilla coming after me.”

“No, Frankie, it’s all good. So…I believe we were between pizza and burgers right?”

“Yup…your choice.”

“Hmm,” he couldn’t help but notice how cute her nose looked scrunched up in thought. “I think pizza.”

“Perfect, I was kinda hoping you’d say that,” he winked. “You need to change or anything,” he motioned to her bag.

“Oh, nah…I paid a shit ton for this dress, I’m keeping it on as long as I can.”

Frankie coughed as his throat went dry. He knew she meant that innocently but his mind wandered and he could feel his face getting red. 

“You ok, Frankie?”

“Um...y-yeah…all good. Here get in,” he walked around to the passenger side, opening the door for her.

I couldn’t get over how cute he looked…and hot…I can’t forget that part. Hugging him felt like I was being embraced by the coziest blanket and it took everything in me to let go. 

By all accounts, Frankie was still a stranger to me and here I was getting into his truck and going who knows where. I’ve spent far too many hours listening to true crime podcasts to know all of the red flags dotting this situation. But with Frankie, I felt…safe. I really can’t describe it other than it’s just a feeling. 

He said he had a place in mind but it was a bit of a drive. Honestly, he could have told me we were driving the few hours to Miami and I would have been fine with it. He was so easy to talk to and I loved watching him drive. My eyes tried to not linger on his hand gripping the steering wheel as I took note of how thick his fingers were. 

He filled me in on his day which included a cast of characters that sounded like they were plucked out of a TV show. I loved hearing him laugh and the way his eyes crinkled as he talked about his friends was adorable. We were so engrossed in conversation that I hadn’t realized we were on the causeway until we were about halfway across the water.

“Are we going to Clearwater?” I looked over at him, a little sly smirk coming across his face.

“Yeah…shit, I didn’t even ask if it was ok to go this far. Sorry, I-”

“Frankie,” I reached over and put my hand on his arm, “it’s ok. I just hadn’t been paying attention to where we were,” I chuckled, my hand running down his forearm to rest on top of his hand on the center console. I quickly patted it, wincing internally at my awkwardness, and returned my hand to my lap.

We sat in comfortable silence as I stared out the window taking in the views. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Frankie bite his lip as he moved his right hand to hover over my leg. He hesitated for a moment and then rested his hand just above my knee. It felt like an electric current went through my body – not only was he touching me but his hand was close to my…

“Is this ok?” He turned his head giving me the most adorable puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “This is ok, Frankie,” I put my hand on top of his, rubbing circles with my thumb. He started to visibly relax and it made me feel warm.

We spent the rest of the way chatting about random things, his hand firmly planted on my leg. I could tell he was starting to feel more comfortable when his hand traveled up and down my thigh, rubbing circles with his thumb. I wished I didn't have all of the fabric on because I yearned to feel his rough calloused hands on my skin. 

There was this intriguing duality to him. On the one hand, I knew these hands could exact some level of violence. I’d be kidding myself if I didn’t realize that he’s probably severely hurt people before. But at the same time, there was a softness to his touch, like he wouldn’t hurt a fly. I felt a slight shiver as his fingers skimmed across the satin of my dress. As strong and capable as his hands were at piloting an aircraft I imagined they were equally capable of pulling countless pleasures too. The thought made me squirm a bit as I tried to steady my breath.

“You ok?” He turned his head to look at me.

“Y-yeah, I’m good,” I gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Ok good, we’re almost there.”

Next thing I knew, we pulled up to some hole-in-the-wall pizza joint that he swore up and down was the best pizza on the West Coast of Florida. I caught some funny looks thanks to my floor-length gown from the guy behind the counter who I learned was the owner. He and Frankie knew each other so we jumped the line of to-go orders waiting to be made.

In no time at all Frankie scooped up a bag full of styrofoam containers along with a pizza box. We stopped off at a convenience store to grab a six-pack of beer…again my overly formal attire drew some heads from the casual locals and swimsuit-clad tourists. 

Once we had everything, Frankie reassured me we were close to our ultimate destination but I was in no rush. When he finally backed into our parking spot, he looked over and stopped me as I started to unbuckle my seatbelt. “Can you stay here for a sec…please?”

I cocked my head to the side, curious what he was up to. “Sure…”

“Ok cool…don’t go eating the garlic knots yet,” he quipped. “And ah…close your eyes. I’ll be quick I promise.”

I smirked as I closed my eyes, straining to hear what he was up to. He opened the back door, some rustling as he found something before closing the door. The truck rocked a bit. Eventually, I heard the crunch of gravel underneath his boots as he opened my door.

“Ok, you can open your eyes.” 

My eyes fluttered open as he reached for the food I was guarding in my lap. He offered his hand to help me get out of the truck.

“What do you have up your sleeve?” I raised my eyebrows. 

He led me around the truck and I felt the butterflies start to flutter around in my stomach. There was a maroon and white plaid blanket laid across the bed of his truck. It was a bit tattered and looked like it had seen better days. At the back, there were two matching pillows. 

“It’s not fancy, but I figured we could eat and watch the waves. The sunset is the best here.” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, rocking a bit from side to side as he looked down at his feet.

My breath hitched as I took it all in. This was such a sweet gesture and I was honestly impressed by the thought.

“Is this ok? Sorry, if I had more time I would have…”

“This is perfect.”

He looked up at me with the sweetest smile and offered his hand for me to climb in.

“You looking for an excuse to check out my ass Frankie?” I smirked, noticing his blush as I hopped up, shuffling in and putting one of the pillows behind me as I rested against the back of the truck.

Frankie followed, crawling up to sit next to me. He grabbed a couple of bottles from the six-pack, twisting off the tops and handing one of them to me, “Cheers!”

“Cheers!”

“Sorry, it’s not cold..”

“Frankie, stop apologizing. This is…perfect. I just wanted to see you again, it didn’t matter what we were doing, so this is icing on the cake.

I could see the tension leaving his body as he made quick work of laying out all of the food. It was quite the spread and definitely too much for just the two of us. We chatted and grazed and things never felt awkward, even during those quiet moments. It also wasn’t lost on me that Frankie had drifted closer and closer to me. His outstretched leg now pressed up against mine, I could feel the heat radiating between us and all I wanted to do was curl up next to him.

As the sun set, I felt a wave of melancholy wash over me. It suddenly hit me how finite time was this weekend. The sun chasing the horizon was a visual of the hourglass in my mind counting down the hours I had left in this dream.

“Hey, you alright?” Frankie reached for my hand as he turned to face me.

I nodded, managing a weak smile. 

Frankie felt like he was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, he wanted to spend more time with her and see where this night was headed. But at the same time, he wanted time to stand still because the more hours they spent together the closer they were to her inevitable departure. 

It felt like a cruel joke. The moment he starts to feel…something…anything…and it’s a situation with logistics. Distance hadn’t worked well for him in the past seeing as how his ex’s cheating started while he was away on a mission. 

For so long he blamed distance for the demise of their relationship. In hindsight, he knew there were more issues than just the time apart, but it still was a reason. If he had a job that didn’t force him to be gone for months at a time on covert, highly classified missions maybe things would have been different. If he had picked a line of work that didn’t give him nightmares and so much anxiety that he had to resort to increasingly dangerous ways to silence the voices maybe things would have been different. If he wasn’t so fucked up every time he was home he would have seen the warning signs long before…

Frankie had been so caught up in his own spiral that he hadn’t noticed her energy shift. She too looked deep in distant thoughts of her own.

“Hey, you alright?” He turned, reaching for her hand to ground himself in her touch.

She nodded and he could tell she was putting on a brave face. He wished he knew the right thing to say but he was so conflicted. This was too good to be true right? It was clearly destined for failure because things this good didn’t happen to him. He’d done too many bad things in his life to be rewarded with someone like her.

But as he searched her eyes, he felt a sense of comfort. He couldn’t explain it. So much of this whole situation seemed ripe for heartbreak but he couldn’t stop the freefall he was in. There was a sliver of hope that this … that she…may have been worth it all. 

His eyes trailed down to her lips and his palms twitched because he so desperately wanted to kiss her. To hold her close to him for fear she’d disappear. His mind quickly cycled through thoughts of what kinds of sounds he’d be able to pull from her, how she’d taste, or how her body would look writhing underneath him.

Our gazes stayed locked on each other for what felt like an eternity. We were both nervous to make a move. But as Frankie’s mouth curled up into a small half smile I saw the cutest dimple form and leaned forward without thinking too much about it. Our lips met and the kiss was soft and a bit tentative, like we were both seeking permission from one another. He pulled back, looking down and swallowing hard before his eyes rose to meet mine.

“Was that ok?”

“Yeah Frankie,” I whispered.

“Ok, good,” he cupped my face as he smiled into another kiss. 

It didn’t take long before his tongue licked along my bottom lip, prompting me to open my mouth for him. I could still feel him holding back a bit, so I wanted to show him it was ok. I lightly nipped his lower lip before taking it between my teeth for more of a tug. As he let out a low growl, my hands rested behind his neck, twirling the chocolate curls that peeked out from beneath his cap. I forgot where I was and swung my leg over to straddle him as his hands came to my hips. His grip tightened as I let out a small moan, slightly rocking into his lap. In the distance, some whoops and whistles broke us out of our little bubble. 

“Looks like we have company,” Frankie smirked, motioning behind me with his chin while adjusting his hat.

I slowly turned, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks as I remembered we were in public. A group of teenagers waved back at us snickering and whistling. I immediately turned around, burying my face into Frankie’s neck as he laughed. “I’m not gonna lie, I kinda forgot where we were for a sec.” 

I could feel the laugh in Frankie’s chest as I stayed nuzzled against him, the stubble of his beard running along my hairline as he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

“How about we um….get out of here?” I couldn’t even say it without laughing. “I’m sorry that sounded so cheesy!”

“It’s ok…if you weren’t going to say it I was,” he winked. “C’mon,” he tapped my hip, “let’s get you back.”

The closer Frankie got to her hotel, the more his anxiety spiked. He didn’t want to assume anything, but he desperately wanted the night to keep going. Kissing her felt like a fog clearing and she was the sun shining through it. 

He kept his hand on her thigh the whole ride back, again grounding himself in the fact that she was real. As he pulled into the hotel, she reached for his hand. “D’you wanna drop it off with valet?” 

“Um, yeah sure….ah…” Frankie blushed at his next thought before he shook his head and decided to just go for it. “How long am I staying?”

“As long as you want,” she leaned over and kissed the bare patch in his beard, sending an electric pulse down his body.

A valet came up on either side of the truck, opening the doors. 

“Hi sir, ah checking in?” The young man asked as he took Frankie’s keys. 

“Ah no, put it on room 1802,” she called from the other side of the truck as the valet wrote it down on a slip and handed it to Frankie. 

“Oh one sec,” Frankie opened the back door, pulled out a backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. “Ok.”

I narrowed my eyes as Frankie rummaged through the back seat of his truck and pulled out a backpack. It made me wonder - is this something that he does a lot? 

He seemed to sense my confusion as he came around the truck and took my hand to lead me through the lobby. “I ah, I stay at my friends’ house a lot, so I started keeping a backpack with a change of clothes,” he laughed. 

“So you were tired of doing the walk of shame from your friends’ house huh?” I quipped as we made it over to the elevators.

“Ha ha. Very funny,” he grinned, that little dimple making another appearance.

We got in the elevator with a few others. Frankie held me in front of him, one hand on my hip as he quickly shot a text off. 

“Texting Pope, you know…in case something happens he knows where I am,” he laughed as I feigned offense. “It’s not every day I go to a beautiful woman’s hotel room,” he whispered in my ear, his warm breath making goosebumps form on my skin. 

Frankie felt like he was on the longest elevator ride of his life. As he held her in his arms, he couldn’t help but discreetly press himself closer to her. When they finally reached the 18th floor, she led him by the hand to her suite, dropping it briefly as she fished out her room key.

“Presidential Suite huh,” he raised his eyebrows, looking impressed.

“I decided to treat myself,” she said as she led him into the living room. She dropped his hand and walked over to the large windows. “I didn’t realize I would have such a pretty view.”

“Neither did I,” he was right behind her, his breath ghosting down her neck, trailing soft, open-mouth kisses to her shoulder. His hands lightly caressed the straps of her dress.

I instantly wanted his hands and mouth everywhere at the same time. I leaned my head back against his shoulder as he kissed just below my ear. He pressed himself closer to me and I could feel him already getting hard which instantly made me tingle with anticipation. I shifted a bit to press my thighs together as he ran his nose to the back of my neck, trailing kisses down to the zipper of my dress.

“I’m glad you’re still in this,” he said against my skin, his hands wrapping around my middle. 

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because I wanted to be the one to take it off. I’ve been thinking about what’s underneath all day.” 

I felt his length twitch as he said that, making me shiver. I turned my head to look back at him as he lifted his gaze, his eyes dark. “Well, go on,” I smirked. 

“Yes ma’am.” He started to undo the zipper, kissing down my neck as more of my skin was unveiled until I was standing there in my underwear.

I turned in his arms, pulling off his hat, dropping it to the floor as our lips found each other again. His arms drew me in, pressing me flush against him.

“You're so beautiful,” he managed to say between kisses, continuing to whisper more sweet things as I walked us back to the bedroom.

Before I knew it, I felt the back of my thighs meet the mattress. I sat on the bed to undo his belt and work on getting his jeans off. My mouth watered as my eyes followed the trail of hair from his navel down to his tented boxers. As I went to hook my fingers into the waistband, he cupped my chin and tilted my face up. 

“We can get to that, there’s something I want to do first,” his tongue swiped along his lower lip as he sank to his knees in front of me. “Is this ok?”

I nodded, “Y-yeah.” It had been a long time since I’d been intimate with anyone so I was feeling equal parts excited and nervous. 

He gave me the warmest smile as he brought his hands to rest on my thigh. He leaned up and kissed me, pushing me backward as his mouth blazed a trail down my body, making a couple of pit stops along the way. He stilled as he hovered over my belly button. 

His stubble tickled and I couldn’t help the giggles, clasping a hand over my mouth. The giggles were quickly silenced with a gasp as I felt his fingers curl underneath my underwear. I lifted my hips to help him work them off. The nerves suddenly kicked into high gear as I was left exposed.

Frankie sucked in a breath as I strained to look down between my thighs. What I saw was a man taking me in like I was the finest piece of art he’d ever seen. His eyes scanned all over as he brought his hands to my thighs, pushing my legs wider. 

“F-Frankie…if…if you don’t touch me I think I’m going to explode,” I giggled, gripping the sheets in anticipation. 

“Well, we wouldn’t want that,” he tutted with a pout which quickly turned into a smile. “Relax, mi cielo, I’m going to make you feel good.”

And holy shit he wasn’t lying. His tongue licked up my folds before finding its home on my clit with soft and steady undulations. I shuddered, tightening my grip on the sheets as his broad shoulders pushed my legs even further apart. I clenched my eyes shut, back arching as he picked up the pace. 

He murmured his praise as he continued to work me over. I lifted onto my elbows, catching him looking up at me through his eyelashes as he continued his feast. My eyes rolled back as he changed the pattern his tongue used to trace around me. I reached down to his hair, grabbing a fistful of hair and tightening my grip to bring him so close I worried for a split second that I may suffocate him. But that worry quickly dissipated as I heard him moan into me, his grip on my thigh no doubt leaving a bruise as his other arm laid across my stomach.

I bucked up into him, riding this wave of pleasure. I’d been with partners who enjoyed going down on me in the past, but I’d never experienced someone devouring me with this much enthusiasm and reverence. The hand on my stomach start to trail upwards, cupping my breast through the fabric of my bra. I wanted, no I needed, to feel his hand on my skin so I quickly reached back to unclasp the garmet and flung it off the bed. 

He brought both hands to palm my breasts, his thumbs brushing across my pebbled nipples. I snuck another look down and the image of my legs draped around his broad shoulders, his messy curls bobbing up and down was nearly enough to send me over the edge. I whimpered as he pulled off briefly to catch his breath, looking at me with a smirk as he grabbed the back of my thighs and brought me closer to him.

A few more flicks of his tongue as he groaned into me was all I needed as I tumbled head first into a sea of pleasure. He stayed with me as I worked myself down from one of the most intense orgasms I’d ever had. As I laid panting, legs splayed out and my body feeling boneless, he nuzzled against my thigh and kissed it.

“Fuck…” I sighed, ruffling his curls and twirling the strands that had fallen on his forehead.

“Yeah…” He chuckled, crawling up to lay down facing me. 

He looked beautiful, his hair all messy and his beard glistening from me, from what he just did. I also snuck a glance down, wanting to see what was waiting for me on the other side of the thin fabric. He cupped my cheek, kissing me tenderly and I could taste myself on his tongue. I deepened the kiss and moved to straddle him. 

“Can I take these off,” I looked down to the only thing separating us.

“Please, I need to feel you.” I bit my lip and reached down to pull his boxers down and off. 

Seeing him lying there, his cock hard and the beads of precum dripping off, threw me into an alternate dimension as everything ran by in a delicious blur. The stretch I felt as I lowered myself on him was intoxicating. 

He let me ride him for a bit before flipping me over, hitching one of my legs up, and hitting a spot so deep I didn’t even know it existed. He grunts, my moans, and the squelching sounds of our joined bodies were absolutely sinful. 

“You feel so good, baby,” he panted. “I’m not going to last much longer.”

“Good….neither…am…I…fuck,” I felt myself coming for a second time – something I haven’t achieved in longer than I care to remember. 

As I arched my back, Frankie’s rhythm sputtered as he came, falling forward to cage my head between his arms. He brought his forehead to mine, pressing a quick kiss to my nose as he rested his head next to mine, still panting. 

We stayed like that for a while. I traced my fingernails up and down his back, lightly scratching him, which he seemed to enjoy as he nuzzled his nose into my neck. He felt like the perfect weighted blanket. 

With a deep breath, he pulled out as I whined, feeling the emptiness. He laid down on his back next to me, pulling me in so I could curl into him. The early morning wake-up call coupled with the excitement and exertion made my eyes feel really heavy.

I was pulled out of my slumber thanks to a ray of sunlight coming through the curtains I forgot to close last night. Behind me, I heard the sheets rustle as Frankie turned, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling my back flush against his chest. 

“Morning, mi cielo,” he kissed my shoulder. I giggled as his stubble tickled me. 

“Why sky?” I turned in his arms to face him, pushing some wayward curls off his forehead. 

“I don’t know…I guess…we got to know each other up in the sky. And it’s my favorite place, so it seems fitting,” his eyes softened and it made me feel giddy. “Sorry, that’s probably really cheesy.”

“No, it’s really sweet Frankie. I’ve never been called that before…I like it.”

We made out for a little bit and one thing led to another and he was back between my legs. I don’t even know which round we’re on as I lay panting and trying to catch my breath. 

My stomach betrayed me and grumbled; food was the furthest thing from my mind at this point. Frankie heard and laughed as he sat up, his sweaty curls clinging to the back of his neck as he got out of bed and grabbed his boxers and jeans.

“Where are you going?”

“Downstairs to get you something,” he winked. “How do you take your coffee?”

I crawl over to the side of the bed, sitting up on my knees and reaching for him. “We can just order room service.”

“I was planning on it for later,” he smirked, kissing me before he turned to head out to the living room to grab his backpack, grabbing a shirt from it. “Coffee?” he called over to me as he put it on.

“I take it black.”

“Makes sense…you’re already so sweet.” I rolled my eyes and laughed. “Ok, I’ll be back.”

Once he left I searched around for something to wear. I spotted his BBB-8 shirt crumpled up in a ball on a chair and decided to put it on, loving how it hung on my frame. I laid back in bed, smiling to myself as I remembered parts of last night and this morning. My phone buzzed and I assumed it was Frankie asking a question about what I wanted, but instead, it was Ash.

Ash: Ok, but he’s hot AF in person. You must have had a LOT of fun last night based on how his hair looks 😉

What the fuck is happening?

Ash: Relaxxx. I’m down here taking a call. Almost didn’t recognize him without the hat.

omggg

Ash: Holy shit. He’s getting you breakfast? 

Ash: Aww it’s so cute. 

Ash: You must have worked up quite the appetite based on the amount of shit he’s getting.

Please don’t say anything to him.

Ash: I’m not. I’m being stealthy 

Ash: Ok lover boy is headed back up. 

Ash and I texted a bit more so I could get caught up on the wedding. Everything seemed to go to plan and Carol was beaming in the photos. It was so sweet to see the way Dave looked at her, his gaze reminding me of a certain pair of chocolate brown eyes that were now seared into my memory. 

Almost on cue, a knock at the door brought me back to the present. I rushed over to open it for Frankie. Ash wasn’t kidding, he brought the whole bakery upstairs with him along with a couple of large coffees. He inhaled sharply as he saw me – I’d forgotten I was wearing his shirt. 

“Damn, that looks really good on you,” he kissed my cheek as he walked in.

As we ate and sipped on our coffee we talked about plans for the day, deciding that we wanted to stay holed up in the room. Our conversation eventually came to a natural lull as I lay on Frankie’s chest, his hand trailing up and down my arm. It wasn't awkward or anything, it was time for both of us to just think. My mind drifted from being giddy and excited that I’d get to spend the whole day, and hopefully another night, with Frankie, to feeling deflated by the fact that in less than 24 hours I’d be boarding a plane back home.

“What are you thinking about?” He broke the silence, nudging me with his knee. I shook my head, nervous about sounding too needy. “C’mon, you can tell me.”

“It’s just…what happens next?” I winced, unable to look at him.

He paused for a moment before taking my hand, “What do you mean?”

“I mean this…us…I…no pressure or anything, but I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you Frankie. And I know I’ll be far away and I totally get it if you just wanted this to be a weekend thing and I-”

“Hey. I’ve enjoyed spending time with you too…I haven’t had this much fun in a really long time and you’re easy to talk to,” his soft smile instantly warmed my heart. “Here I was wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to not have you run but the truth is, I don’t want this to end here. I want to keep getting to know you and like no pressure or anything, but if you decide you want to come back down here to visit or have me come up there, I’d do it. Whatever you want.”

I paused for a moment, shocked by his candor but relieved that it seemed like we were on the same page. Taking a deep breath, I turned to him. “I’d like that.”

“So don’t think of it as a goodbye. We can figure it out. Have you ever done a long-distance thing before?”

I shook my head. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t really ever been in a…uh…” I didn’t want to label ourselves as in a relationship but that’s how I saw it.

“You haven’t?”

“No…it always seemed like no one was ever really wanting that, like they’d lose interest after a date or two. Eventually, I ended up getting busy with work and stopped caring.”

“Well, I’m very…uh…interested,” he chuckled. 

“Good me too,” I leaned over and kissed him.

We spent the rest of the day lazily in bed watching movies, making out, having a little extra fun, and even taking a little nap too. Frankie stayed true to his promise and we did order room service later, followed up by a shower. I was so thankful I sprung for this suite for that shower alone. 

It was so nice to have just a chill day, but it made me a bit sad that I wouldn’t be able to spend next Sunday doing the same thing. As the hours stretched into the evening and the sun started to set I reluctantly started packing. Frankie sat at the foot of my bed watching me flit around the suite.

“How are you getting to the airport tomorrow?” He asked as I zippered up the carry-on.

“Ah actually…I was hoping maybe you could take me?”

His face lit up. “I’d love to. We should probably get to sleep, you have an early flight.” 

Sleep was the furthest thing from my mind. I wanted to savor every last moment I had with him and not squander it away by being asleep. Sex with Frankie was everything I ever wanted and unlike anything I’d ever had. He was caring and tender but passionate and decisive. I didn’t want to say it out loud to him but he officially ruined all other men for me; he was now the standard. 

The alarm startled Frankie from his unusually deep sleep, annoyed that the morning came so quickly. But then again, that’s what happens when your night stretches into the early hours. Even though they’d both established that this morning wasn’t going to be a goodbye, he still felt uneasy. 

Right now they were in a little bubble and riding high off of the oxytocin and basking in the afterglow. What lay ahead was going to be difficult – finding ways to stay connected with each other, working the other person into their life from afar. He already knew what Pope was going to say, no doubt telling his friend to be cautious and guard his heart. 

But as she turned around and faced him, cupping his face and stroking the bare patch on his beard, he just knew. He’d never felt so sure about anything in his life. She made him want to try. To open his heart back up again. To unlock a part of himself he thought was gone forever. 

I had to rush a bit to get out the door, thanks to Frankie who was very eager to show me how much he was going to miss me – not that I was complaining.

He held my hand the entire drive to the airport, trying to quell my flight anxiety along the way. The weather was beautiful so he assured me that it should be a smoother ride than our trip down.

As we approached arrivals, I felt a pit in my stomach. Truth be told, I was scared. Scared that this may be it. Scared that he may change his mind, and that this would be too difficult given his past experiences. He'd clued me in on some of the issues with his past relationship but I just know there's more there to uncover.

Sure, we talked about staying in touch, but what if my definition of “staying in touch” was different from his and I ended up scaring him off? I already knew I would be overthinking it all. But even amidst all of that uncertainty, there was a little voice telling me it was going to be ok.

His grip on my hand tightened as he pulled up to the curb to park.

“This sucks.” He dragged his other hand down his face before turning to face me. “Is it weird if I'm already trying to figure out when I could come up?” The relief I felt hearing him say that must have been more visible on my face than I thought because he chuckled as he leaned forward to kiss me. “I take it that it's ok?”

“Yes Frankie, more than ok.”

The whistles from the guards directing traffic pulled us back to reality. Frankie hopped out, jogging around the truck to help me with my bag before gently setting it on the ground.

I crashed into him, wrapping my arms around his mid back and pressing my face into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head as we stayed like this, neither of us wanting to be the first one to pull away. 

“Hey boss, imma need you to move this,” a man behind me grunted to Frankie.

“Yeah, I'll be a second.” Reluctantly, he pulled away from me but still kept me in his arms. “I'm not saying goodbye ok? Because you're going to text me when you get through security and you're going to send me a picture of that spicy Bloody Mary Mac is going to make you,” he chuckled. “And you'll tell me when you get on the plane and I'll tell you how Benny's training goes.”

“And then I'll tell you when I land,” I reached my hands to rest behind his neck, playing with his hair. “And you'll fill me in on whatever else you boys have planned for today,” I winked.

“So it's not a goodbye.”

“Nope, not at all,” I smiled into a kiss he quickly deepened. People around us be damned, I couldn't help the moan that escaped as he pulled me closer to him.

Another whistle from the cop and we laughed, holding each other for one last second before pulling apart. Frankie handed me my bag, cupping my chin.

“I'll talk to you soon mi cielo. You're going to have a safe flight.”

“I'll miss you,” was all I could squeak out as I bit my lower lip. I'd been feeling the tears quelling up since we checked out of the hotel and I was nervous they’d finally spill over.

“I'll miss you more,” he kissed me again. “Now, you have to go otherwise my truck is gonna get towed,” he chuckled.

I kissed him one last time before I grabbed my things and walked towards the sliding automatic doors. Turning around I caught one last glimpse of Franke, scratching the back of his neck with one hand and giving a small wave with the other. 

I'd never been more thankful for TSA Pre-Check. The lines were long and my goodbyes with Frankie stretched longer than I thought. Once I got through security, I quickly bought my water and magazine and walked over to the bar to see Mac.

“You're late! Musta been a good weekend missy,’ he winked. 

I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, “that obvious huh?’

“For a second there I thought you might miss your flight. But here I made you something, on me,” he winked, handing me a white Styrofoam cup. 

I took a sip and chuckled. “Is this even legal?”

“Well, don't take it on the plane with you. Figured you could sip on it while you're waiting to board. I can't have you walk by my bar and not get your Bloody Mary.”

“Thanks, Mac. Sorry I can't chat much this time.”

“Oh, I think we'll be having plenty of chats. You have a safe flight missy, I'll see you soon.”

I thanked Mac and said my goodbyes as I walked over to my gate, arriving just as boarding started. With one last big sip, I threw the drink in the trash and boarded my flight. I headed straight for the wing, remembering how Frankie said it was the smoothest ride.

My mind raced through the whirlwind of a weekend I had, smiling at the memories made and those I hoped were to come. I fired off texts to Ash and my mom to let them know I was alive and on the plane. Ash quickly responded and I knew I'd spend the whole drive from the airport to the office filling them in on the weekend.

Then I went to my thread with Frankie. Scrolling through it to see how our chain started, remembering that I saved my number in his phone as Wifey. The photo of him in bed reminded me of the soreness between my legs and I could practically feel his curls as I balled my fist.

“Ma'am, we're going to need you to turn off your phone,” the flight attendant leaned over with a sweet, but firm tone.

I sighed and quickly typed up a message.

On the plane. Found a seat over the wings. I'll let you know when I land. ❤️

I kept my phone out of sight, waiting until the last possible second before I put it away. Frankie was probably still driving so I wasn't expecting a response. With a sigh I unlocked my phone and as I went to swipe the airplane mode on I got a text.

Frankie ✈️: Good girl. Have a safe flight, I miss you. 

And with that, I switched my phone off and stared outside the window with the biggest smile on my face.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! While this is the end of this arc, this isn’t the end for these two. They’ll get wrapped into Delta Landscaping  (my Triple Frontier AU). For those reading that series, you would have seen a mention in the last couple of episodes.

Tagging a few who may be interested based on comments/reblogs from the previous parts. I can remove you if you want: @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain  / @lwfics / @missladym1981 / @alltheseperfectimperfections / @anavatazes / @inept-the-magnificent / @weho2kcmo / @casa-boiardi / @undercoverpena / @survivingandenduring / @secretelephanttattoo / @sin-djarin / @readingiskeepingmegoing / @trulybetty / @mellymbee / @jessiejessworldsblog / @anoverwhelmingdin / @southernbe / @inthedarkestnight / @iloveenya / @mysterious-moonstruck-musings / @itspdameronthings / @all-the-things-2020 / @avastrasposts / @linzels-blog / @maried01 / @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 / @titabel

#frankie friday #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #frankie morales #frankie morales fanfiction #triple frontier #frankie catfish morales

[bluecoolr]

Hewwo Bloo!! Could I ask for 🤔💚🐈🐉 for Cheryl?

Hi Ash!!!! Thank you for sending some for my babygirl!! 🥹🥹🥹

🤔 THINKING FACE - what are some of your oc's quirks/mannerisms?

Cheryl often does a deep inhale that she releases as a cough, on account of her chronic lung problem. 

Often does a head-tilt. Actually sees better with her head tilted. 

💚 GREEN HEART - does your oc prefer being inside or outside?

She definitely prefers being outside. Her adoptive parents' house is stifling, and she often feels like she's not welcome there - like a tolerated pet. When she's home from boarding school, she stays away when she can.

You'll often find her in the library or along the wooded areas in town, often riding her horse. She's also a common fixture at bus stops, because she doesn't own a car. 

🐈 CAT - does your oc prefer a wide circle of friends or a few close friends?

She didn't get the opportunity to have a lot of friends. She got singled out by the mean girls (Lydia, Thea, and Aneska) and nobody wanted to help lest they got bullied too. She's also very intimidating, so people often hesitated to approach her. 😕 She would have liked to have people she could talk to, though.

But really, she doesn't have the patience or the energy to deal with a lot of people/friends. She doesn't compromise easily, so she wouldn't have attempted to blend in or get along with a big circle of friends. 

She's a one-friend type of person and usually the dominant one in the relationship. Her friendship/romantic relationship with Dylan Mercer and "Clancy" are both like this.

🐉DRAGON - what's your oc's favorite mythical creature?

In Philippine mythology, there's a serpent-like dragon known as Bakunawa. He was believed to cause eclipses, the different phases of the moon, and earthquakes. During new moons, she likes to say "Nilamon na." - "It's been eaten." 

As a comic book fan, she developed a liking for tikbalang - the Philippine version of centaurs. Only because the one she's familiar with looks like: 

(Maliksi from Trese by Budjette Tan)

On the topic of Trese, do half-gods count? 

#cheryl is a confirmed monster fucker ok? #girlie's dream guy was a tall moreno cutie #slasher oc #cheryl #original character #oc ask game

[gensokyogarden]

"Merry Christmas Satori, Mia and I got a few things for you.~"

They got her an industrial sized air purifier, to help with the copious amounts of cat dander and all the ash spilling up from Blazing Hell. As well as a painting they had commissioned of Satori with all of her (many) various wives and children all together.

"That second one was a lot harder to get done than you'd think. I basically had to find an existing portrait of you, so it would be a surprise, and then gather all of your kids together to pose for the painting while they added them into the original portrait. Cream was real stressed out about having to miss work to pose for that long."

"Lydia, you and Miasma are incredible!"

The gifts are met with an immediate hug. Something so thoughtful and something practical. What an absolutely wonderous combination. It was more than the mistress of the palace could ever ask for. There was just one thing that bothered her.

"Was Cream really that distressed over the process?"

"I guess I really have worked her far too hard. She is starting to seem like me. We always want the best for our children, that's part of parentage, but sometimes in our drive to make them strong we only inject our own flaws into them."

Satori reached out and gently took Lydia's hand in her own. She forces a smile but her voice grows heavy with melancholy as she speaks.

"I appreciate the gift a lot, one of the best I have received in this century, it's going to mean so much to have it mounted on the main hall ... but I think I also have some things I need to think about. I'm sorry but I need a moment to myself."

#go back to your own garden ~ satori #annettesoleil

[whumpsday]

Whumpmas in July Day 20: Do you identify with any particular roles in whump?

CARETAKER 1000000% ALL THE WAY.

i am so caretaker it hurts. every time i see a whumpee i wanna just scoop them up in my arms and carry them to safety. ESPECIALLY if it’s a whumpee who doesn’t have a caretaker in-story. i refer to this in my head as “caretaker instinct”. will literally lie awake at night daydreaming about caretaking whumpees. every time i imagine myself in a whump scenario, it’s as the caretaker. i am the type of person who sees a stray cat and says “WE HAVE TO TAKE THE KITTY HOME” and my boyfriend has to pull me away by force. (this has happened on many occasions)

some whumpees i’ve gotten particularly strong “caretaker instinct” for:

Ash from Ash & Callum by @whumping-every-day (the drive to see Ash finish his recovery arc and become happy after this story got discontinued is partially what led me to create Kane)

Brutus from Lydia and Coriander by @maracujatangerine

Daero from Daero by @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort

Joy from The Monster of Lindborough by @secretwhumplair (reading this as it was being posted real-time before the comfort arc started was so brutal on my heart 😭)

Knight from Kill the Dragon by @kim-poce​

Pumpkin (El) from Killing, Stalking, Whumping by @whumpshaped​ (made a whole crossover au where they get a happy end!)

The Human from Devil Hot by @whumpshaped

Villain from Tiny Villain by @a-dead-tea / @a-whumped-tea​ (links in this masterlist are broken but just change -lake to -tea in the urls to get the fixed links)

i want to protect them... congrats on making me Emotionally Invested!!

@whumpmasinjuly

#wij2022 #whumpmasinjuly

[bonniebird]

Parrish x Reader

Requested by Anon​

Masterpost

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Halloween Event

Parrish had swung by to double check your security. There had been some trouble leading up to Halloween and he had insisted on checking in. He’d gone round the house twice, checking the windows and doors.

“So everything looks nice and safe. Lydia and Malia are going to drop off some mountain ash later, just in case you need it.” Parrish explained. 

“Well hopefully your shift will be qu…” He cut you off before you could finish.

“Don’t jinx it!” Parrish said quickly. He pointed at you firmly and you laughed awkwardly. You rolled your eyes and laughed with him.

“Do you really believe in that stuff?” You asked and he scoffed.

“In a town with werewolves and Hellhounds you’re doubting whether or not saying that, will jinx my Halloween shift.” Parrish said. His tone of voice was light and he was poking fun at you, but you could tell that he was serious. Thinking about it, if the ‘jinx’ was real, Beacon Hills would be the place that it’s proven. “Ok, maybe you’re right.” You relented. He smiled and glanced at his cruiser.

“Anything else? I have to go, my shift starts in a few minutes. But if there’s anything else you need looked at...” Parrish asked. 

“No. Thank you. I think that’s all of it.” You said with a smile. He nodded. Looking around he seemed to be checking for anything that you couldn’t see or hear. With a satisfied nod he headed to the cruiser. “When black cats prowl and pumpkins gleam, may luck be yours on Halloween.”

He turned back and chuckled, winking at you as he got into the car and honked as he drove away. You waved him off and hurried inside. Because of a town curfew schools would be out an hour earlier tonight and trick or treaters would be coming round early.

#jordan parrish #jordan parrish x reader #bonniebird #halloween2021

[euphoriclove777]

Bloom

Pairings: Fezco X Reader

Rating: pure fluff! Omg I had the best time writing this!

Request by @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ :  Fez has a special place in my heart 😍I'd like to request an imagine where yn is his gf and they have been together since kids. she's a nurse and his rock. she loves Ash like a brother and he feels the same. when Rue and her friends met her from the first time they're amazed by how different she is to Fez, but they complement each other and are just super sweet♥️ what do you think?

The color yellow was always an everlasting treasure between you and your beloved, Fezco. In the first grade when you met him, you had on an adorable yellow dress with white frills and bumblebees scattered across the front and back. And your beautiful luscious hair has been pulled into two pigtail braids with yellow scrunchies securing it at the base. Your mother, Lydia, always had a habit of making you look as sweet as honey for all the others to follow, especially when you were new. You had moved a total of 27 times but this time, like she always says, “We are here to stay for good Y/N! Isn’t it exciting?!” But it was never exciting. It had been all the same of towns with cardboard shape houses and buildings and people being so fragile and stuck together like paper dolls. 

Except for him.

 He had on a red t-shirt which complimented his sea glass blue eyes and his curly ginger hair. He wore horned rim glasses which he took off to wipe the dirt off his lenses to get a crystal clear view of you.

  You were the object of his attention as he played kickball and ran across the field to the farthest base just to look at you from afar. “Mysterious...mysterious angel.” he thought to himself as he watched you giggle while two caterpillars crawled on your dress and you set a leaf for them to eat in your lap. He smiled at your laughter revealing his gapped teeth. Just as you looked up to watch the game, Fez blushed bright red and waved at you shyly. You squinted your eyes to see what exactly it was he was doing and smiled, waving back slowly. Confidence arose inside of him and he smiled all goofy to himself.

“Sweet” you thought to yourself, giggling as well. All was well until the cherry red kickball flew and met Fez’s face, giving his mouth a very unwanted and painful kiss. Everyone laughed as he fell to the grown but you quickly got up, removed the caterpillars from your dress and ran over to him. His glasses made a scar on his nose that was bleeding and his mouth leaked out blood.

Naturally you came and sat down on the grass next to him and removed his glasses gently. Taking a napkin from your dress pocket, you dabbed his mouth, wiping away the blood from his mouth. His beautiful blue eyes snapped open and looked at you. He eased into your touch, wincing as you wiped away at a cut.

“Are you okay?” you asked in a sweet voice. If Fez could replay how your words sounded in his head, he’d listen to it all day if he could. 

“Uh yeah...yeah I’m...I’m fine...McDaniel's has always had it out for me,” he said slowly, sitting up and rubbing his head. You giggled softly at the bruise forming on his face and stood up, holding out your hand.

Gingerly, he took it and you led him to the swing set where you could properly look at his face. 

“Are you feeling dizzy? Sleepy? Confused?” you said while looking into his eyes and wiping his mouth completely free of blood. “Should we go to the nurse?”

He just looked in a daze at you, taking every detail in. The way your smile looked, how your voice had the perfect amounts of care and concern, and especially the way your Y/H/C hair shined in the sun.

“Yes....No...wait I’m okay! I promise! I’m great!” He said, flashing his most dazzling pearly white smile at you. 

Your face dropped immediately with concern. 

“What?” he said, confused and a bit nervous of rejection. “Had some broccoli been left on my teeth from the Alfredo grandma made?” he thought to himself. 

“ Uhhhh...were you missing a tooth before?” you said hesitantly, ogling at his bloody mouth and the freshly formed space from his right tooth. Fez’s heart dropped to his stomach as he felt around in his mouth at the new space in his mouth.  His eyes watered and he panicked. 

“No! Oh no I think I swallowed it!” he said with fear in his voice and he covered his face with both hands, crying softly.

You squatted in front of him and touched his arm, caressing it softly. “Hey...hey it's okay! It's perfectly normal for us to lose teeth, I pinky promise! See look at mine!” You smiled really hard showing that your bottom tooth on the right had been missing.

His watery ocean eyes crinkled as he laughed with you about teeth. You wiped his eyes away. “I’m Y/N....I’m new here,” you said shyly.

He smiled up at you and stood up holding out his hand. “I’m Fezco but people just call me Fez around here,” he said confidently. 

At the end of the day he held your books and walked you home discussing cartoons and homework.At nap time Fez dreamed of being married to you and creating a family...but that would be so long. It was only first grade. 

That sweet little sensitive boy you knew and loved from first sight there on that playground was yours since that day and yours only...except for that one time in sixth grade. It was the spring fling dance. You and Fez danced all night. He loved the way that your blush pink dress complimented the daisies your mother stuck into your bun. His white button down shirt, black bow tie, black slacks, and shining black shoes cost a fortune. His mom had been out of work for some time and hadn’t been home in days. Thank god his grandma was willing to take him to the store and buy him  all that he needed so that he could impress you. 

Much like middle school, the Spring Fling dance had been filled with drama, tears, and laughter. This was the night Fez was going to finally tell you how he felt about you...how he wanted you to be his girlfriend. But some outlying factors seemed to corrupt his plans.

“Gee it's hot in here! I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go to the restroom!” you said to Fez over the loud music. He nodded and smiled at you and went over to the punch bowl, pouring you a cup, instinctively knowing that right after you used the bathroom you wanted to drink something cold or have something cold to hold. He smiled at himself thinking about how excited he would be to finally call you his and get all the other creeps away from you. A tap on his shoulder awoke Fez from his thoughts of you. 

Tammy Martin, the snob and queen bee of sixth grade flashed a smile at him. “Hey Fezzy!” she said with a high pitched tone. He cringed subtly “Hey Tammy...what’s up?” he said slowly. 

“Nothing...just...I really like you Fezco! So I’m gonna...I’m gonna kiss you!!!” she said nervously. “Wait wha-”

Tammy pressed her bubble gum pink lips to Fezcos without warning. His eyes widened in shock and pure horror as he a) had no feelings for Tammy whatsoever and b) saw your smiling face approaching him and the way it dropped shattered his heart into a million pieces.

Fez pulled away quickly with embarrassment and disgust. “Tammy! I’m not interested in you...sorry. I gotta go!”

As you sobbed on the staircase outside of the school, the sunlight set the scene. It was so romantic yet you were so heartbroken. 

“Y/N I am so sorry...she came onto me, I would never-”

“No! It's fine Fez. You want her, take her! It's completely fine! I-”

“Y/N STOP! I do NOT like Tammy.” he visibly shuddered and sat next to you, wiping the tears off of your face.He held both of your hands and looked deep into your eyes. 

“Y/N....I...I’m in love with you. The way you talk...the way you smile...the way you are just here with me through the messed up shit my life is in. I love you and I have loved you since the day I laid my eyes on you.” He said fearful of rejection and wholeheartedly.

Tears threatened to spill out of your eyes at that moment and you kissed him. You kissed him with the passion of a million suns. Fireworks exploded within you and him. He held you close to him and kissed back.

 As you now look outside of the window at the hospital where you work, seeing so many people going by that were once rude or bullies before, you laughed to yourself. none of them could ever say that they had the pleasure of being with their lover since elementary school. 

Tired as always when you made your way back to the quiet and quaint suburban home that you and Fezco now share, you found the tranquility of love and being with Fez.

The boy that once sold so much crack and LSD to highschoolers had saved up his money properly and invested in different things that wouldn’t bring damage to the ones he loves.

You and him finally made a nest in the suburban home that you two envied growing up with the difficult situations. As you opened up the white door to your loving home, the scent of apple pie, your favorite, was wafting through the air. It was suspicious however, seeing as all the lights are off and-

“SURPRISE!!!!” 

Behind the grey curtains was Fez with the sweet goofy smile on his face. He was laughing especially hard due to the reaction of you jumping like a cat in the air. 

“Fez! Stopppp!” you said pouting at him and flopping onto the sofa. He kissed your forehead and pulled off your black crocs from your feet. “You’re home late” he murmured as he gently massaged your foot and kissed your leg. 

The Fezco that everyone knew was slow speaking, in a daze, and willing to protect what's his- whether it be you, Rue, Ash, and his family. The Fezco before you however was not as furocious and masculine. He softened for you. This was the Fez that came knocking on your window at 2 AM breathing heavily and in tears from his Mother attempting to kill him in an unsettled state from all the heroin she had been taking. This was the Fez who held you so tight at night and with any sudden sound he would awaken and grab his gun willing to do anything to protect you. This was the Fez who surprised you at work with roses and daisies sitting at your counter or would leave a gift wrapped in the prettiest wrapping paper he could find. And this was especially the Fez who would stay at the corner   

This Fezco, your teddy bear, was who you came home to every night and woke up to every morning. He does everything he can to spoil you rotten. Each night before bed you would hear him whisper in your ear “You deserve the world my princess and anything you want, imma give it to you.” Sometimes you would wake up to necklaces around your neck or a cartier bracelet that he made you promise to never take off. A new lavish breakfast everyday before work and a delicious dinner after work. Bubble baths were something you both indulged in doing together. He always knew how to get the water just right so it felt like slipping into a warm bed. He would massage your shoulders and let you vent about how some of the patients were intolerable and how the doctors often treated you with limited respect. And once you two got out, you would lotion him slowly massaging his muscles and letting him discuss whatever affairs had been occuring in his life. 

People honestly were the most confused at the looks of you two together. Rue, being like Fez’s little sister, questioned it once she first met you. But now she truly believes that “Y’all are the only fucking soulmates on the planet”. She comes over often with Jules and Lex and you’ll find your time giving them advice about whatever is going on in their lives. All while watching reality TV and baking cakes. 

And Ashtray, that little rascal. He knew you since the day he was born and imprinted on you easily. He always came to you for advice. Or if Fez broke your heart from something stupid, Ash was the middle man and always made sure that you two made up. 

 As you relaxed into Fezs touch you laughed to yourself. “What you laughing at little mama?” he said slowly, focusing and perfecting his massage. “It's just...we’ve come so far. Since first grade! We’ve been together.” you sat up and stared at him smiling. “Fez I really do love you. Thank you for being here with me and staying with me.” 

He stared at you for a minute and blushed and got up very fidgety and nervous. “Y/N baby...do you...do you want more...more with me?”

You laughed softly and got off of the sofa and onto your tippy toes to kiss his nose gently. “Of course I do silly,” you said smiling and looking into his eyes. “I want you and only you for the rest of my days Fez. Even if it includes your hot ass morning breath burning off my eyebrows every morning!” you giggled throughout the last statement, especially because Fez pulled you in and started to tickle you. 

You laughed as he got down on his knee before you. “Baby, what are you doing?” you said gently and played with his hair. And those pure sea glass eyes looked up at you with every wonder in the world.

He held both of your hands. “Y/N M/N L/N...I can’t describe you using simple adjectives and shit but you are the love of my life. I’d give anything and everything to be here with you and protect you and hold you down when shit gets rough. You’ve had my back for almost 15 years babe. Do you know how much that is? 15 years, 180 months, 5475 days, 131400 hours, and 473040000 seconds of your love and joy. I wanna be with you on the good days and bad days. Y/N you got me out of so much fucked up shit. You’ve been a real big sis to my brother and looking out for him, making sure his grades are straight and shit. You look out for my grandma with me. She told me that if I ever let you go, it would be the worst mistake of my life. And guess what baby? I’m not making that mistake. I refuse to go another second more without asking you to be mine and mine only for the rest of our days.”

Your eyes watered and pooled with tears threatening to spill out. You smiled down at him as a tear fell out.

“Will you marry me?” he said, pulling out a beautiful lotus flower diamond ring. It wasn’t traditional but it was so beautiful. 

“YES! A MILLION TIMES YES!” you yelled and kissed him, almost knocking him over on the floor. He laughed along with you and kissed you back and wiped away your tears. His smile was ear to ear as he slipped the ring on your finger. “I know you’re mad curious about why I chose a flower ring but...a lotus flower grows through the mud. Once it comes out of the mud it is so beautiful and perfect. We have gotten through so much mud in our lives baby and I wanna finally bloom with you and only you.”

“I love you Fez” you said, your eyes slowly dropping out tears one at a time. 

“I love you always and forever Y/N” he said and kissed you once again. 

#fez x reader #fezco #fez euphoria #fezco euphoria #euphoria hbo fanfic #euphoria hbo #fezco fluff #euphoriasmut #rue euphoria #Lessons #jules euphoria #jules vaughn #maddy perez #maddy euphoria #kat euphoria

[deathduty]

The Giving Tree || Solo

TIMMING: Monday, November 30th (following The River Styx is High & Wide) LOCATION: Mirrored district CONTENT: discussion of Lydia’s humans SUMMARY: Only fae can understand each other. Only fae can grieve each other. Only fae can save each other.

When Deirdre woke, she was on her back, staring at a wheelbarrow. Beside her, and in her ears, the high-pitched clamoring of pixies echoed across the vastness. I think you’re supposed to put the disinfectant on first, one said. No way! It’s BDSM—bandage, disinfectant, sticker, massage, another hissed. That’s not what that word means, a voice she recognized as Sundew’s—a pixie she didn’t like and one that didn’t like her—chimed in. We have stickers? 

Deirdre appreciated the wheelbarrow; it was black, dirt-stained and, most importantly, not bickering amongst itself. It provided a simple mystery and a rivetingly mundane story. She was peering into its interior, now empty, though it appeared to have once been filled with mud, and beside it was a stack of red buckets, which appeared to have once been filled with water. A few feet away was a mound in the upside-down soil, poking right up at her. She wanted to imagine that a body had been buried there, but the mound was too small, and she’d be able to tell anyway. 

She turned her head to find grey sky and lazy-rolling, swollen clouds sprawled underneath her. A thick fog claimed the distance, forbidding her to see beyond the bubble of her new space. If she were any more like a wheelbarrow, she would’ve thought she was dead. Unfortunately for Deirdre, she was the furthest thing from a wheelbarrow. 

The pixies continued to bicker around her, bickering between themselves about which cream they were supposed to apply, and which way bandages were meant to be wrapped. No, Deirdre wasn’t dead. Even hell wouldn’t be this bad. “I want to go home,” she groaned, “take me home.”

The pixies froze, dropping gauze and letting it unspool and run away. Three pixies chased after it, Sundew remained. “You’re awake!” She squeed, zipping into Deirdre’s sight. “We didn’t know how to check your pulse at first, and then it was soooo slow that we got bored! So we just assumed that you were still alive and started playing doctor. But not in the sexy way, in the doctor way.” 

“Home,” she said again, foolishly hoping repetition would get her point across. Why was she alive anyway? It wasn’t to be fawned about by pixies, was it? The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in a burning building—a demise of her own design. For all she knew, she was supposed to be dead. She hadn’t screamed, but what else ever happened to someone who fell asleep during a fire? She thought the whole thing might have been a dream, but she could feel each injury Athena levelled against her burning with ferocity—her wrists, her arm, her abdomen. Of course a warden would hurt a fae like this. What was she thinking? She should be dead. Now she was alive to hear Sundew; both a just punishment and an unbelievably cruel one. “I have to go home.” 

“You can’t!” Sundew smiled; she found nothing wrong with her statement. “We just called a doctor over, and we need you to—“

“If you called a doctor, then why are you bandaging me?” 

“Well, you see, it started like this: your cù-sìth found you dying by a tree, and then it alerted some gnomes who told a brownie who knew a foireaux cat who was travelling with a leshy who then carried you to us! So, we got a spriggan to steal us some medical supplies but then we realized that we didn’t know what we needed to do with them and the only doctor I know of is in the mirrored district so we got a stack of leprechauns to help us bring you here!”

Deirdre was silent for a moment. “That isn’t what I asked you.”

“Your face isn’t what I asked you.” 

“I need to go home.” Deirdre said curtly. She groaned and heaved and tried to right herself, but for all her effort, her body resisted. Searing pain blazed from more parts of her body than she cared to count, and when the effects grew too great, they seized her vision and her mind and set in a spell of monochromatic lightheadedness. Deirdre fell back down, clutching at her side. “I can’t be here,” she repeated herself, this time with the hope saying it enough would make it true--like Dorothy clicking her red shoes together--there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home. “Take me home.” 

“I can’t do that!” Sundew grew quiet as Deirdre turned paler, “you’re dying! And you need to wait for the doctor and we need you.” She fluttered down and sat on the tip of Deirdre’s nose. “You know, a lot of fae got together to bring you here, and not just because you’re fae--and of course we’d do that--but because we made something and we need you to check on it.” Sundew, though possessed of a brain magically condensed to the size of an almond, was more astute than her peers. She didn’t know Deirdre well enough, and she certainly didn’t like her, but there was one thread that connected all fae. And no, she didn’t mean mushrooms. Or nudity. Or, strangely, pie. 

“It’s for Lydia,” she said and predictably, Deirdre’s argument died against her tongue. 

“Morgan,” she said, speaking swiftly before the equally predictable ‘what the jiggly boob is a Morgan?’ “My girlfriend. You need to send her a message. You have to tell her I’m okay. And I’m alive. And I’m here and---”

As Deirdre listed her suggestions-turned-commands--directions on what to say and how to word it, that they should definitely explain the magnitude of her love, offer brain muffins, and perhaps a diagram to show how okay she really was--Sundew looked at the other pixies, who’d come back panting from their adventure chasing the runaway gauze. She shrugged and shot them the kind of look that said you heard her and they shot her back one that said what the jiggly boob is a Morgan? 

“We’ll get it done, Deirdre,” Sundew nodded, leaving three confused pixies to figure it out. They didn’t question or argue the order in the same way none of the fae down the chain of Deirdre’s transportation to the mirrored district questioned that. They were fae, she was fae, this was what fae did for each other. That itself was not a profound thought to Deirdre, or any fae, but often the kindness of their gestures for each other could be forgotten. 

Deirdre didn’t think highly of whatever she was going to be whisked off to see. Knowing the pixies, it was probably a macaroni and entrails portrait of Lydia. But that was a simple thought.

And the pixies weren’t much like the wheelbarrow either. 

*

Lydia was divisive even among the fae. Many of those gathered in attendance thought her practices were a little too brazen, even for them. Deirdre recognized a few who scoffed at mention of her basement, and others who claimed that humans ought not to be kept like that. They stood beside those that agreed to varying degrees--completely, partly, indifferently. Each had gathered here, and each had a hand in creating the monument in front of Deirdre. 

Deirdre looked between them, having been rendered to tears at the sight of what they’d done. And then to her knees. “You--” She quivered, unable to finish the rest of her sentence.

“We used the ash you gave us,” Sundew explained quietly. Deirdre nodded; she knew. She could feel it. 

The tree was a hauntingly beautiful thing. A tall structure with twisting porcelain wood--natural and unnatural in the same stroke. She ran her fingers across its smooth grooves, staring up at the symmetrical branches and their striking red flowers. It was a minimalist cherry blossom tree, and everything Lydia would have liked. The necropolis was filled with beautiful trees of all designs; tall, short, golden, black, barren and lush. When she’d come here for the first time with Lydia, she never imagined the leanan-sidhe would end up among its ranks. She was saddened and happy all at once--there could be no reclamation for the dirty alley she’d died in, but she could be remembered in beauty. 

“It’ll grow bigger,” Sundew said, twitching nervously in the sky when Deirdre had offered no opinion to the gathered crowd other than crying. “It’ll be the tallest tree here.” 

“This isn’t even her aos sí--” Deirdre said.

“We know,” another fae spoke up. “But she’s one of us, just like everyone else. No matter where she goes, where she lived.” 

“Do you like it? Is it okay for her?” Sundew twitched again. 

Deirdre turned back to the crowd, finding them all watching her expectantly. There was the spriggan who called Lydia’s shoes tacky once. There was the nymph that gossiped incessantly about Lydia’s character after her death. Yet, Deirdre was not insulted by their presence. They were fae. It didn’t occur to them not to mourn Lydia, not to think she was deserving of more than what she received. They wished her life back, no matter how it was lived. The same way they did for every fae. It was the nature of them. The way of their community. No human would ever understand this.

“I miss her,” Deirdre confessed quietly. “I can’t say I agree with everything--sometimes that makes me feel like a bad friend--but nothing worse than...letting her die. I failed her, I did that. I promised her a good death, and I couldn’t even give her that. And now I’m--what am I doing? I nearly let a warden kill me, all for some morsel of justice.” She glanced back at the tree. When she offered a leprechaun’s handful of ashes to them, she hadn’t imagined it would be used for anything. Now it was a tree. And there was still enough ash left to do more for her. To give her the death she couldn’t have in life. “I think she wanted to be beautiful, I think she wanted to be perfect.” Deirdre paused. “I miss her.”

The spriggan was the first to speak up. She wished she’d gotten to know Lydia better; a few fae mumbled in agreement. Another said they’d never agreed with her, but they missed her too. One said it was all okay, and it wasn’t fair--it wasn’t. Another wished he knew her at all, he wished he’d said hello at least once. 

“I wish it was different,” Sundew said, fluttering to Deirdre’s side. “For you too.” 

“She told me she’d made mistakes. She told me she didn’t know how to set them right, she told me she didn’t know if she could.” Deirdre closed her eyes. “I wanted justice for her so badly...I wanted pain...I wanted something. I loved her, and no one understands what this hole is like.”

The fae grew silent, looking between them. “We understand,” Sundew said after a moment.

A sob rattled around in Deirdre's throat. “You do.” She stood and plucked a flower from the tree, twirling it in her hands. She watched the black dipped edges swirl into a vortex of color. “What have I been doing for her? What have I done to remember her?” Murder of innocents? Some failed justice? Where was her tree, the one she could make for Lydia? “I-I can set things right. I can do that for her. I can do what she was robbed of the chance to do. I can live for her. I can do that. I can do this.” 

But her determination was short-lived under her injuries and fatigue. She fell to her knees again, bowing her head into the flower, crying against its petals. “I am tired of hurting people,” she said. “I’ve got nothing to show for it and I’m tired and I miss her.”

The fae looked between each other again, and one by one sat down beside the sobbing banshee until they were all on the sky-floor. They were fae, and they missed her too.  

#wickedswriting #domestic abuse tw #:/ #no one look at me #deirdre has been missing for days because i took seven years to wrITE THIS #the giving tree #solo

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 11 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: Paul and Gene confess the truth to Ace and Peter.

            There were a few things Gene hadn’t exactly thought he’d live to see. One was the fall of Communism. One was decent oil prices. One was Paul Stanley attempting to shove Ace Frehley bodily into the doorframe.

            At least, that was what it looked like Paul was trying to do. Gene hadn’t gotten out of the car nearly fast enough to catch it all, hampered by the car lock he’d thoughtlessly left on and the milkshake he’d been in the middle of (they’d picked up Dairy Queen on the way back from the boutique). By the time Gene got to the front yard, Paul had Ace by the shoulders and was screaming obscenities.

            By the time Gene got to the front porch, Peter had yanked Paul away from Ace and had one of his arms locked behind his back. Paul was trying to trip Peter, one foot twisting behind Peter’s ankle as he leaned back against him. Ace stepped forward, trying to pull them both apart, only Paul’s fist flung out and nearly connected with his jaw. Peter, meanwhile, was still screaming.

            “You crazy bitch! This isn’t your house! This is his house!”

            “It’s my goddamn house!”

            “You got some nerve! You think ’cause you fucked the guy you’ve got a right to his place?!”

            “Pete, let go of the girl! C’mon and calm down! Both of you!” Ace yelled out.

            “Ace, you lousy son of a bitch!”

            “Hey, hey, we barely know each other—”

            “Stop it!”

            Gene wrenched away Peter’s grip on Paul’s arm, relying more on weight and suddenness than strength. Peter immediately went for Gene instead—Peter was a much smaller guy, but meaner and still more savvy, for all that it had been years since he’d been in a fight—but Gene grabbed him before he could. Paul just barreled over to Ace as soon as he was free, pinning him against the door, standing on his foot to keep him in place. Ace looked like he was torn between being bewildered and bursting into laughter.

            Peter didn’t fight off the grip much, which surprised Gene. Maybe even he realized that a skull fracture on the cement front porch would be like setting fire to KISS’ ticket sales. Gene held him there, barking at Paul as he did.

            “Leave Ace alone!”

            “Leave Ace alone? His credit card’s in my fucking door!”

            “Let him alone! Let him alone right now.”

            “Gene!”

            Paul hesitated, then backed off from Ace. As soon as he was halfway sure Paul wouldn’t jump back on him, Gene let go of Peter, who whirled on both of them.

            “We’re not trying to steal Paul’s shit! We just wanna know what the fuck is going on here!”

            “We—” Gene started, only to be interrupted by Ace.

            “Where’s Paul at?” he said quietly. Gene’s head snapped towards Paul, praying he’d read the look in his eyes. Praying he’d realize he couldn’t blow it. Peter already hadn’t believed him once. There was no way—there was no sense in trying again.

            But that wasn’t all of it. Even if somehow Ace and Peter believed Paul, what good could they do, anyway? The two of them would just screw everything up worse. It wasn’t a thought borne out of practicality; it was self-righteous, maybe even selfish. Part of Gene wanted to keep being the only one who knew.

            It turned out that it didn’t matter what Gene wanted. Paul just glared back, snapping out his answer before Gene could even try to stop him.

            “I’m right here, you idiot!”

            Ace stiffened up, eyes widening slightly.

            “What?”

            “I’m right here! I’m Paul!” Paul waved his hands in the air in front of him, up and down from his head to his chest.

            “Don’t—”

            “Shut up, Gene! I can handle this!”

            “You—you’re crazy,” Peter snapped. “That’s the stupidest bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

            In contrast, Ace looked almost nervous. It was an out of place expression on his face. He glanced around, from Gene to Paul to Peter, before finally settling back on Paul, studying his face hard enough that Paul broke eye contact. Ace exhaled.

            “You kind of look like him, yeah, but Paul’s not a girl.”

            “No shit, Sherlock,” Paul rattled out. “Gene, are you gonna vouch for me or what?”

            “This is a—”

            “Why the hell should we believe you on this, Gene?” Peter again. “You must think we’re fucking idiots! Running around with this chick, making up all sorts of fucking stories—who’s to say Paul ain’t lying dead in the fucking bathroom right now?!”

            “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Paul had reached for Peter again, like he somehow thought contact would clarify everything. Peter stepped back, brushing away his hand. “I’m right here! I never went anywhere! I-I can prove it to both of you!”

            “You got at least two really good proofs you ain’t him, and they’re hanging right off your chest right now, you—”

            “Pete.” Gene’s voice surprised even him. “He’s telling the truth.”

            “Would you—”

            “Peter!” Ace, much louder than normal, before quieting down, almost as if in apology. “We got this far.”

            “They’re both lying!”

            “Give it a minute, yeah? Give it a minute.”

            Peter rolled his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Ace continued, giving Gene a cautious glance before turning his focus back to Paul.

            “There’s something bad wrong with you, I can tell that much,” he said. “Course, there’s something bad wrong with Paulie, too, but—"

            “You’re one to talk, Ace,” Paul snapped. Ace didn’t look perturbed in the slightest.

            “I mean, he’s a Capricorn and real neurotic and shit.” Paul let out a disgruntled sound at the comment, one Ace ignored as he continued. “Could you do something for me?”

            “You tried to break into my goddamn house and now you’re—”

            “Walk around.” Ace held up his hands. “’M not gonna do anything. I just wanna see.”

            Paul made a face but walked to the opposite end of the porch and back, hands straight at his sides. Gene watched. He thought he knew what Ace was getting at—he hoped he did, at least. Paul’s stiff, straight-backed gait wasn’t much different than it had been before this mess had started. Gene hadn’t really noticed prior, consciously. It was just another peculiarity. The same actions and characteristics transposed onto the wrong body, giving him away—if you knew where to look.

            Ace, apparently, did. That off-putting insight was finally going towards something worthwhile. Gene shifted, oddly uncomfortable.

            “You walk more like a guy. And you didn’t try to kick us in the nuts.” Ace pursed his lips in contemplation. The rest of his expression was unreadable. “Doesn’t mean anything by itself, but…”

            Paul was starting to look a little hopeful. A little eager. He stepped in closer to where Peter and Ace were standing, as if he were about to reach out for them.

            “Ace, I can prove I’m Paul! Ask me something. Ask me anything. Go on!”

            Ace shrugged amicably, turning his head.

            “Pete, you got anything to ask her?”

            Pete looked irritated that Ace was turning Paul’s demand on him. He took a second to consider, looking at Paul warily. Gene waited, wondering what question Pete would pull out.

          “What’s my cat’s name?”

            “Mateus. You didn’t even name him. Lydia did.”

            Paul had answered almost in an instant. Peter blinked, but shook his head.

            “You could’ve gotten that just from reading the magazines.”

            Paul let out a curse.

            “Then ask me something else. Ask me about—Jesus, I don’t know—"

          “The dick-measuring contest.” Ace’s voice was soft and absolutely devoid of humor.

            “What?”

            “Who won the dick-measuring contest?”

            “Jesus, Ace, I…” Paul’s face went red. Gene bit back a wince, not sure if it was on his own behalf or Paul’s. “That’s… that’s so fucking embarrassing, don’t—”

            “And tell me who got second and third and fourth.”

            “Ace!” Oh, God. Paul was actually squeaking. It would have been endearing in any other situation. Gene searched Ace’s expression, as bland and out of it as usual, for even a twinge of pity or amusement or anything, but there was nothing. He wasn’t going to let him out of this. A little uncertainty rose from somewhere in Gene’s stomach as Paul finally admitted, “Okay, okay! Peter won!”

            Ace’s eyes got huge again, mouth forming a tight oval Gene had seen maybe four hundred times onstage. Paul had probably seen it more than that. Actually, Paul and Peter both in all those idiotic threesomes. Why that was still sticking in his craw, Gene didn’t know. Beside him, Peter’s mouth was wide open. Ace looked like he was trying to answer back, but Paul started rambling into a response before he could.

            “Well, we all knew he was going to win! The only one we hadn’t seen before was Gene’s!”

            “You—”

            “You want the placements? You were second! I was in third, and Gene was in fourth, and then I said it wasn’t fair since no one was hard, and you two had the fucking Loch Ness monster for dicks anyway and—”

            “Holy fucking shit.”

            Ace and Peter both looked scared as all hell for a few seconds. Peter reached out, almost cautiously, touching Paul’s shoulder like he was afraid it was going to dissolve into ash if he dared grasp it. Gene thought at first Peter was just trying to make sure Paul was still solid, until Peter tugged at his collar. Gene stiffened on weird automatic, but Paul seemed to realize what he wanted, undoing the bow and pulling down the sleeve, exposing a droopy bra strap and his tattoo again. Peter stared at that bright red rose like it held all the secrets to a number-one single, tracing up and down it with his finger before pulling back.

            “That’s why you were trying to show me,” he said softly. “That’s what you were trying…”

            “That’s it, all right.” Ace was peering in, too. “It isn’t like Paul’s, it is Paul’s. I ought to know. We got our tattoos the same day.”

            “Paul,” Peter said, staring as Paul tugged up his sleeve and retied the bow. “Paul, I… fuck, I’m so sorry.”

            “Pete—”

            Peter hesitated visibly. Then he wrapped his arms around Paul in a tight hug.

            “I thought—I thought Gene had stole your girl!”

            “I know—”

            “I thought you’d lost it! Run off and had a nervous breakdown! I… I had no idea you were right… Paulie…”

            Paul hugged him back after a few seconds, clearly overwhelmed. Relief looked like it was flooding his face. It made Gene’s guilt feel all the heavier, there, clotted somewhere beyond the back of his throat. He felt slimy, somehow. Slimy for not considering Paul’s family, for not considering Paul’s relief at being believed by his bandmates. Slimy for the part of him that had liked being the only one who knew. That felt like it was for the best. What did he know about what was best for Paul? Paul looked happier now than he’d seen him this entire time.

            Peter let go after awhile. Paul’s arms hung in the air for a second before Ace realized they were out for him. Their hug was relatively brief, Ace looking weirded-out by the entire prospect.

            “Shit, how many inches did you drop there?”

            “Three or four.”

            “You’re shorter than Peter now! Not by a lot, but…”

            “What the hell happened? Did you wanna be a chick?” Peter blurted it out of nowhere, expected and inevitable.

            “No!” Paul nearly yelled it out. “I got cursed, okay? The girl that did this, she—she’s supposed to come to Studio 54 every night. I’m trying to find her. Get her to take this off of me.”

            “Who? Who did it?”

            “Some girl. Not—not a celebrity, just some girl.”

            “Paulie… why didn’t you tell us?”

            “I tried to! Yesterday! You just blew me off!”

            “You were yanking down your clothes! What was I supposed to think?”

            “I tried—”

            “Why didn’t you tell us when it happened? We could’ve helped you! We all could’ve helped you.” Peter got quieter then. “You didn’t have to just stick it all on Gene.”

            “I didn’t,” Paul mumbled. “He figured it out on his own.”

            “How?”

            “The tattoo,” Gene said. Paul shot him a relieved look. Ace looked askance, chewing on his lip.

            “Do you wanna tell Bill now?”

            “God, no. Bill’s got enough problems.”

            “He’d keep it quiet. Y’know how he is, that guy could’ve stopped Watergate.”

            “We’re hoping to get it resolved before we’ve got to tell anyone else,” Gene said. “If Bill knew, he’d postpone the tour at minimum.”

            “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.” Ace exhaled. “Okay, Paulie.”

            “Okay?”

            “There’s more to it than what you just said. We’d all better sit down for this shit. You gonna let us in?”

            “Your card’s still in my door.”

            “Oh. Yeah, it is.” Instead of pulling it out, Ace pushed it in further between the jamb and the door, jiggling the knob as he did so. The door fell open. “You gotta get better locks sometime. C’mon, girlie.”

#kiss the band #kiss fanfiction #paul stanley #gene simmons #gene simmons x paul stanley #ace frehley #peter criss

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Hi Ash! :) I've spent the last 20 minutes or so going through your cat tag and your cats are so adorable! It seems Lydia is very talkative and she's really cute. I love her little antics lol. But I saw that you had another cat before Lydia and I think her name was Sybil? May I ask why you chose to find a new home for her? Did Julian not get along with her? Hope you don't mind me being nosy. 😉

Hello! I’m so glad my cat content just gave you 20 minutes of entertainment! Lydia has gotta be the most talkative kitty I’ve ever owned, and does she ever have a unique personality lol! She’s as loud and obnoxious as Julian is quiet and calm, but they balance each other out perfectly. 

I’m gonna put a keep reading bar for the rest, because my response got way longer then I expected, but also that situation wasn’t one I could explain in just a sentence or two.

I did have a previous black kitty named Sibyl. I got her as a kitten after a previous adult cat I owned (named Sebastian - I had adopted him as an adult cat and he had a lot of health issues and ended up having to be put down at a pretty young age after a battle with cancer). My first cat, Julian, who I got back in grad school, is superrrr social and grew up when I lived with two roommates, a dog, pet rats, and various foster kittens. So I’ve always wanted him to have a furry buddy, especially when I moved out on my own and had a job that kept me from being home during the day. So originally I got Sebastian, who passed away after I owned him for about 2 1/2 years, and then I got kitten Sibyl, and her and Julian got along fantastically. Julian loves kittens and is such a sweetheart. I owned her for about a year and a half, and though she was easily startled by noises and hid from everyone else, I never had any issues with her and she was such a love bug. 

There was an incident one evening where, to my best knowledge since I only heard it and didn’t see it, she was in the litter box and I don’t think Julian knew. He went to run in the box himself and I think scared her so badly that it’s like she flipped on him (one big lesson I learned from this is make sure the entrance of your litter boxes face out across the room, so that a cat can see immediately when they enter the room if another cat is already in there). She attacked him, and I separated them for the night, thinking she just needed to calm down. Well, she never did. I spent almost two months trying to slowly re-introduce them, and every time she had any sort of access to him, she’d attack him. And not in a regular cat spat kinda way, she was trying to kill him (he still has a scar on his mouth from the time she got away from me and flew into him for not even 10 seconds before I grabbed her). I’ve seen plenty of little cat spats, but I’ve never seen a cat focused on legit doing as much bodily harm to another as possible, and it was honestly pretty terrifying (and the ultra weird part was I could run in between them and grab her and not once did she ever turn on me). And Julian never fought back, he’d just huddle there shaking in a ball until I got her off him. I went to two different vets, consulted with an animal behavioralist, did alllll the medical tests and tried allll the behavioral techniques, and nothing worked. I think I watched every video and read every article on the topic that I could find, hoping there was some magical answer if I just tried hard enough. It was one of the most helpless feelings I’ve ever had, and on top of that I live in a one bedroom apartment, so I had them separated with one in my living room and the other in the bedroom. And since they both loved attention from me, I literally had to take shifts when I wasn’t at work with playing and cuddling with one while the other meowed and scratched at the door, then would switch and vice versa. It really took a toll on my mental health, and I have so much empathy for anyone who ever has to go through a similar situation. 

So, eventually, as Sibyl’s hypervigilance and aggression towards Julian started to get worse, not better, I made the heartbreaking decision that Sibyl needed a home where she could be the only kitty. I kept telling myself if she’d just give me one little sign of progress, I’d keep going, but she never did. If anything, she became so hypervigilant that she never relaxed and would just pace back and forth in front of the closed door and growl and hiss. It was heartbreaking, and it started to get to the point where I was afraid it was going to traumatize Julian because he was, understandably, scared a lot of the time because of it. I really wish I knew what happened in her little brain that made her see her harmless brother as the enemy, but I resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never know. I tried finding her a home through some FB groups, but let me tell ya, people can be horrible. The amount of judgment and poor advice I got was horrendous. So instead I came onto tumblr and made a post, and my followers were SO supportive. And because of this lovely site, one follower reached out to me and said her sister had recently lost her own little black kitty friend and was looking for another one. I spoke to the sister on the phone, who was just the sweetest human being ever (ya know that feeling when you get all the positive vibes and can just tell someone is a good soul? Yea, I got that immediately), and the very next day I packed up Sibyl and drove her a few states down South to her new home. Leaving her that day was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, and I cried the entire drive back. But her new mama loves the crap outta her, and I know now that I was just a step along the way for her to find her real furever home.

Now, even after being attacked multiple times and dealing with all that stress, Julian was still depressed af that his sister was gone. The apartment just didn’t feel right and I knew that he would hate being an only cat, so I started looking online at kitty rescues, and a couple of weeks later, we got Lydia. She was exactly what both he and I needed to lift our spirits and get us back on track. And though that situation was one of the hardest I’ve had to deal with, emotionally (which might sound ridiculous to some but my cats are my kids and I always swore I’d do whatever it took to make them happy - never thinking it would mean having to give one up), it ultimately led me to this little floof ball who is currently sleeping on my lap, and so I think it’s safe to say that it all worked out exactly as it was meant to in the end :) 

#personal #about me #cats #Anonymous

[mf-despair-queen]

I’ve Put A Spell On You - Stiles Stilinski

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stiles Stilinski/Reader

Word Count: 11,207

Summary: Stiles is revisited by the witch that lured him into a sexy night a year ago. But, this time, she’s back for him - not the souls of kids. 

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Oral (both receiving), Public-ish Sex in a Bathroom, Doggy, Teasing, Bondage, Sexy Finger Sucking, Dirty Dancing

Notes: I honestly don’t think this came out as well as I wanted or hoped, but it’s still rather cute. Happy Halloween! Sequel to Hocus Pocus.

Stiles walked out of his bathroom, rubbing a towel through his hair. Tossing it aside, he pulled the red shirt over his head, his blue plaid pajama pants dragging along the carpet. Pulling back the blankets, he crawled into bed, covering his legs up to his waist. He grabbed his alarm, setting it for his early morning wake up call. Before he clicked off his lamp, the boy sighed, his eyes falling to the date.

October Thirty-First.

He felt familiar pressure against his legs, turning to spy the black cat he inherited making her way up his body until she was curling up on his side. Stiles smiled down at her, petting the silky black fur of the cat. “Tomorrow’s the day, Salem,” he whispered, expecting no response. “Halloween.”

The cat looked up, meowing through a yawn.

Stiles chuckled, the light fading from the room, He relaxed into the bed, the cat purring against his side. He felt her body rise and fall as she slept, sleep beginning to wash over him. One final thought race through his always active mind before it shut down for the night. I wonder if something interesting will happen this year. Will she come back?

The tingle in his shoulder went unnoticed when the clock hit midnight - officially making it Halloween. Mischief night was upon Mischief himself because he didn’t know the things he thought about so often was already beside him.

~

Salem was gone when Stiles woke up. The boy panicked when he realized he overslept his alarm, rushing to get changed for school. He didn’t take the time to find his cat for the last year, bouncing around while pulling on his Nikes, his bag in hand when he left the room. The shower running in his room wasn’t a sign that something was amiss, the man speeding away to school to get through a long day of tricks, treats and flying toilet paper through the halls.

At the end of the day, the McCall pack was gathered around their Alpha and human’s lockers, discussing their plans for that night. Part of them didn’t want another odd occurence to happen again considering the witches they had seen, resulting in bits of their soul drained. A year since then, and no one could predict what was going to happen. There had been no immediate signs that they had returned, but the night was still young.

“Are we sure that a giant Halloween party isn’t a bad idea?” Stiles asked sarcastically, his normal pessimism present. “You’re planning to have the entire student body together in one place. Isn’t that like… the optimal place for these witches to show up and have a feast available.”

“There’s safety in numbers,” Scott reminded the human. Stiles scoffed, shaking his head. “You’ll be there, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Stiles groaned. “It’s a Lydia Martin party. Everyone knows those are the best.”

“Well, thank you,” Lydia said proudly.

“How did you get Derek to agree to use the loft again?” Allison asked. “Last time we had a party there, he wasn’t too thrilled about it.”

“What Derek doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Lydia hummed, picking at her nails. Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically, slamming his locker shut. Lydia saw what he did, huffing. “Don’t give me that look. He’s down in Brazil visiting Cora. He won’t even know.”

“We’re going to die,” Stiles sighs. “We are so dead.”

“But you’re coming?” Scott asked again.

“Yes!” Stiles screamed, flailing his arms. “I will be there! Did you need a ride?”

“No. I finally got the bike fixed so I can head there myself.”

“Alright. I’ll catch you guys there.” Stiles paused before he turned to leave, staring back at your friends. “You’re sure this will work? If they do come back and we are all together… I don’t know if we can protect anyone. You know what happened last year. They will have a field day with how many souls are sitting in Derek’s loft.”

“It’ll work,” Scott reassured. “We will be together and we won’t fall for any of their tricks this year.”

“Alright,” Stiles sighed. “If you think so.”

Stiles waves goodbye to his pack, heading for his powder blue jeep. His mind raced, recalling the way he had been lured into the woods just a year before, the stories he was told as a kid no longer stories. They were a nightmare called reality and he had been in the center of it. Before tugging the door open, he turned to the treeline of the Beacon Hills Preserve that were near the school, straining to try and hear any sort of whisper of song that blew through the wind, tempting him towards the decayed, weathered house that held no resemblance of life. They had checked the house many times and it seemed to be falling apart more than it seemed someone lived there.

Driving down the road, his heart pounded, a sense of dread beginning to settle over the Stilinski boy. The closer he got to his house, the more unsettled his stomach sat. He felt like he wanted to vomit, but he wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was his overly active mind thinking back on what happened over and over again. He kept reminding himself how it felt to realize that the young witch he encountered had used him, using him and his soul for energy. Yet, it made him sad to think that he was just a pawn. He thought the time was special and he never had felt better - though it wasn’t the best feeling to wake up alone, wondering if it was real or a dream.

Then again, it never felt good to wake up in bed alone after sex. He didn’t want that to happen again.

Stiles killed the engine when he pulled into his driveway, collapsing forward with a groan against the wheel. The horn honked loudly under his weight, a noise of discontentment filling the cabin of the jeep. “Why can’t my life be normal?” he asked himself, banging his head a few times against the horn. He knew normal wasn’t in his vocabulary, and he was glad to have the supernatural in his life. But, sometimes, it made his life overly complicated when he just wanted a day to be a teenager. He wanted to go to a party, get drunk, dance like a fool, and maybe even let loose the pent up hormones that were raging in his male body in many different ways in many different positions with a beautiful girl.  

Kicking the door open, he slid out, taking one last look at the woods behind him. “I swear, let today be simple.”

His dad wasn’t home, probably shutting down some teenage punks that were doing all sorts of misfit around the town. The Stilinski house was quiet, almost creaking in age. Shoes were left in the doorway, the door locked behind Stiles when he walked in. He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder while walking up the stairs to his room, the wood squealing uncomfortably under his heavy footsteps. The house whined around him, a cold chill running down his spine that made him stop just as he reached the top. Stiles glanced behind him, trying to see if something was amiss, the same unsettled feeling looming over him.

But there was nothing.

A shaky breath left his mouth, Stiles running towards his room quicker. If something was there, he wanted to take refuge in his room. He kept a stash of mountain ash there just in case as well, so if something supernatural was stalking him, he would keep them out with that. Before opening the door, he glanced down the hallway, trying to determine if he was being paranoid or not. The hall seemed darker than normal, Stiles’ heart racing.

Pushing into his room, his backpack fell at the site before him. His eyes found another pair, but it wasn’t that of the cat he practically adopted so long ago. You were sitting on his bed with a book in your lap that once sat on his bookshelf, wearing nothing but a plaid button up and panties - well, more of a thong that allowed him to see the sides of your butt sitting on his blue duvet. Your hair was draped over one shoulder and your face was free from any sort of make up. You looked comfortable in the safety of his room and, for a second, Stiles could have mistaken you for a normal person if he didn’t know any better.

“What the hell?” he asked aloud.

“Stiles!” you screamed happily, placing the book aside. You jumped off the bed, preparing to walk closer to him, finding Stiles backing away into a wall. He grabbed a cross from his table, holding it out in front of him in your direction. You stopped, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Stay back!”

“Stiles,” you sighed. “That has no effect on me. I hope you know that.”

Stiles’ face dropped, looking at the wooden cross. “But, that’s what I read-”

“Myths are meant to be proven false,” you told him, placing yourself back on his bed. “Most of the stuff you will read on witches is false anyway.”

“Well, that makes me feel fantastic,” he murmured sarcastically. He looked around his room, finding empty bags of chips and candy wrappers littered the ground, cans of empty soda on his desk and his bed messed up. “It looks like you raided my kitchen. What the hell?”

“I was hungry,” you grumbled.

Stiles moved to place his bag on the chair near his desk, keeping his distance from your slimy touch. He didn’t want to feel weaker than he already felt in your presence - even if you weren’t gnawing at his soul yet. Just seeing your beautiful face again made his stomach plummet. “What are you doing here?”

“Reading?” you asked, confused.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I can see that. Reading and eating all of my snacks. But why? How? Why the fuck are you back and in my room?”

You giggled, standing up again. Stiles swallowed thickly, failing in keeping his eyes on your face. The top buttons of his flannel were undone, showing off parts of your breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of your collarbone, his lips wanting to kiss at it. The bottom of the shirt rode up with every movement of the arms, showing the black thong you wore. He caught sight of your ass at one point, the thong not hiding your rounded cheeks. Stiles’ fingers itched, leaving him to scold himself.

“Stiles, I never left you.”

“What?” he asked, throat going dry. It made his question raspy and choked.

“I didn’t break in or seek you out today. I’ve been here this entire time.”

Stiles looked confused until the realization set in. “Salem…”

“Exactly. I’ve been living with you since last year. Just… not in this form. I could only take this form again today. It’s Halloween, Stiles. I take my human form on Halloween.”

“Aw hell,” Stiles groaned, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t happening. This cannot be happening!”

“Don’t be such a worry wart. It’s not a good look on you. And trust me, Sti. You are a god looking man.”

Stiles felt his face heat up, massaging his temples. “I’m worried because I’m not very keen on getting my soul sucked out again.”

“Oh,” you hummed, sitting back on the bed. Stiles noted the sly smile on your face that looked humored at his reaction. “You figured it out.”

“You figured it out,” he mocked. “Yeah, I figured it out.”

“Well, don’t worry about it so much. I’m not here to suck out your soul.”

“Then why are you here?” he pressed. “Why me? Shouldn’t you be out there luring some kid out to your house with your wonderful voice, singing them a song until they are dead and gone? Shouldn’t you be finding some hopeless fool to give you what you need in every way possible?”

This time you frown, a crack in Stiles’ heart forming. “Is that what you really think of me? That I’m just some killer?”

“Well, if the shoe fits…”

“Yes, I have killed, Stiles. I have sucked the souls out of so many kids, you wouldn’t be able to keep track of them. Yes, I sing to attract kids to us so we get a meal to keep us strong. But last year, that changed. My power, my health, my well being. It doesn’t come from the need to suck out someone’s soul. I don’t need to feed on unsuspecting children that are lured in by my song. They aren’t what I need to exist and stay strong.”

“Then what do you need?” Stiles pressed.

“You.”

Stiles’ mouth dropped, unable to come up with a response. Instantly, his head shook from left to right, denying what you were saying. “There is no way. You aren’t feeding on my soul-”

“I don’t need to eat your soul,” you deadpanned. “Last year, after we fucked,” Stiles grimaced unnoticeably, “I marked you.”

“You marked me?” he questioned.

“You know exactly what it is,” you laughed. “I’ve seen you check it out before.” Stiles’ hand moved to his shoulder, thinking about the black outline of a cat that was pressed into his skin like a tattoo. “Exactly.”

“Nope.”

“Yup,” you said, standing up. You moved towards him Stiles trying to back away. He yelped in surprise when you tugged at the bottom of his shirt, the man trying to resist when you tried to pull it over his head. The sleeves got caught on his arms and almost choked around his neck before it was torn from his skin, tossed aside. His arms tried to cover his bare torso, almost embarrassed to be in front of your piercing gaze without it, though you had seen more than this already. He was turned around, your fingers tracing the black cat outline. The touch was soothing, the tingling he had wrote off all day diminishing instantly. It was almost like he needed you, the lost feeling buried inside vanishing. Feeling you against him was warming and comforting.

Stiles let out a content sigh before blinking his eyes open, scrambling away from you. His chest heaved and his honey orbs were wide, licking his lips in thought. “What did you do to me? What does this mean?”

“I marked you.”

“I get that!” he hollered. “What does that mean?!”

You sighed at him, glancing away, keeping your eyes on the floor. “When a witch marks someone, they choose them as their significant other. Only by being with that significant other do we retain our power.”

“So, you are feeding off me.”

“Not like you would think,” you told him. “I don’t eat your soul. I thrive off of you person. By being with you… romantically. Being by your side gives me strength. Without you, I would perish.”

Stiles was conflicted. His head told him to push you away, letting you perish. Without him, you were nothing - and that meant one less supernatural threat in the world. But, his heart told him to keep you in his arms forever, that you didn’t deserve to die. And part of that was selfishness; he wanted he feel that exilheration that came from being with you last year over and over again. He enjoyed being with you - and especially enjoyed the sex. But, you had used him, gaining power you had lost from being locked away by the nemeton for so long by sucking out his soul during said sex. How could he forget that?

“I didn’t ask for this,” he claimed.

“I know,” you told him. “And by no means do you have to abide by it. We make the decision when we feel it is time. And I… I liked being with you last year. That’s why I marked you and returned to your side. I stayed by your side until this moment. It is your choice, Stiles. If you agree to it, I will stay and I will give you anything you want. But, if you say you don’t want me here, I will disappear at the end of the night. That mark will vanish and you will go on your merry way. I can’t mark that decision for you.”

“I-” Stiles started, unsure what to say. “I don’t know right now.”

“Alright,” you whispered.

Stiles glanced at you, finding you sitting back down on his bed, picking up the book. He shook off the guilt inside him, a knot gnawing at his insides. He quickly turned away, not wanting to sink deeper into his thoughts than he already was. It was like the Adderall wasn’t helping at all. He couldn’t focus on anything knowing that you were there and that your life was in the palm of his hand. He didn’t know what to do. Hell, he didn’t even know if you were actually telling the truth. His gut churned, something that told him you were truthful. But how could he know for sure.

His hand went back to his shoulder, trying to ease the burn that returned. Without your tender touch to his skin, he was hurting. The yearning for something unknown returned, a piece of him gone with the wind. His eyes prickled with tears, the man rubbing his jaw to fight back the loss inside. Trying to ignore it, he turned to the clock, seeing the time had passed faster than he could have imagined. Ruffling his hair, he walked towards the closet, cursing at himself as you watched.

“Fuck, I’m going to be late,” he murmured, digging around for the bag with the costume he had prepared for the costumed Halloween party Lydia was throwing.

“Late for what?” you asked, perking up.

“Lydia’s Halloween party,” he said quickly without realizing for a second who he was talking to. He stopped on his way to the bathroom, turning to you. “Shit. I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“Why? I love parties!” you hollered, jumping off the bed.

“I bet you do,” Stiles mumbled under his breath. He watched you walk over to his closet, clearing his throat when you bent over and he had a full shot of your backside. You were digging through a pile of clothes, leaving the male confused. “What are you doing?”

“Getting ready. Duh,” you laughed as if it were obvious.

“What?” Stiles asked, shaking his head and flailing his hands. “No, no, no! You can’t come with me! That’s just asking for disaster!”

Holding a dress in your hands, you turned to look at the spasic man that was frantically waving his arms around. “Why not?”

“Well, I…” he started, his mouth snapping shut. He pondered to himself. He wasn’t sure what was happening. His mind was still jumbled from finding you perched on his bed when he got home without warning. Now, you were here. What was he supposed to do? If he left you at his house, there was a chance you would run amuck while he was out having fun and he would have no way to stop you. On the other hand, if he brought you to the party, you were entering a smorgeshboard of souls that you could devour. But, you would be within reach and with Scott there, Stiles assumed you could be stopped if something got out of hand.

One lone witch couldn’t be that bad, right?

“Fine,” Stiles huffed. Your face lit up. “It’s a costume party so… do you even have clothes?”

“Stiles, I’m a witch. I’m always in costume,” you teased. The human rolled his eyes, groaning in exasperation. “Yes, I have clothes. I will be ready.”

“Alright. Good. Just, get ready and we will… we will go party. Just two people, a guy and a girl - a very pretty girl - going to a party. Together. Dressed up.”

“Stiles,” you cut in, stopping his rambling. “I got it.”

“Right,” he muttered. “ I’ll just go change now.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to change together?” you teased, unbuttoning the top button of the flannel your wore. Stiles’ gaze lingered on your heavily exposed chest, his teenage hormones rampaging inside him. You shrugged one of the sleeves off your shoulder, showing off more skin. Your eyes were shadowed as you glanced up at him through your lashes, giving him a sly but adorable smile. “You can even help me undress.”

“I’m going to get dressed now!” Stiles yelled, running into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind him, shielding your laughter. Stiles groaned, the evidence on the table that you were playing with him, but it didn’t make things any better. A sheen of sweat coated his skin and no matter how much he tugged at his shirt, he couldn’t cool down. He had more problems than just the hot flashes he was having that would require a few extra minutes on his end. “Hey, Y/N. Take you time getting ready. I have a… problem to take care of first.”

A blush appeared on his cheeks when he heard your faint giggle through the door. “Whatever you say, Stiles.”

Stiles huffed, placing his costume aside and discarding his clothes in his hamper. He didn’t need to get the magazines he kept under his sink for emergencies when his thoughts were filled with you, the man sitting on the toilet to pop off a quick one first.

Stiles rushed to get dress when he was done, checking himself in the mirror. The hat was adjusted over his silky hair. The shirt was tight against his frame, Stiles adjusting the badge on the right side. The left read ‘Police’ in white lettering. A set of handcuffs he stole from his dad hung from his belt, a gun holster with a water gun sat on his hip and a fake police baton was against his leg. Stiles grinned, thinking about how good he looked as a man in uniform - well, a police officer in uniform.

“Hey,” he called, cracking the door open before he walked out. “Are you ready?”

“Yup! Just waiting on you!” you called back to him. Stiles took a deep breath before walking out. He stopped short, his eyes growing wide and his jaw dropping to the floor. The black spaghetti strapped dress you wore with the orange lace up the left side hugged you beautifully, curved around your breasts to show them off but keep them concealed. The skirt flared out and draped against your thighs in spikey patterns that made the style work. Your arms were covered in sleeves that ran from the mid bicep to your wrists, leaving your shoulders and hands free. Your hair seemed to curl against your shoulders, a black witch’s hat with orange band around the bottom of the cone shape sat atop your head. On your feet were just some black ankle boots. You spun for him, showing off your outfit. “Well?”

“Holy-” he started, shutting himself down before he uttered something ridiculous and vulgar. “Let’s go.”

“That doesn’t tell me how I look, Stiles,” you pouted. You walked over to him, a hand running down his muscles arm that was built from lacrosse practice. “You look good.”

Stiles swallowed, licking his lips. “You too,” he said quickly. You gave a small smile, your hand dropping from his arm to make for the door. Stiles frowned at the loss of contact from you, his heart and stomach clenching. Slowly, his mouth opening to continue saying, “You look beautiful.”

You stopped at the door, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Thank you,” you told him, voice sultry to his ear. “Now, come on. I want to party.”

Stiles knew this night would be a long one and he was afraid he would make at least one bad decision before the end of it.

~

The party was roaring when he walked in fashionably late with you at his side. You squealed the second you walked into Derek’s loft, disappearing into the crowd despite Stiles’ extensively long lecture in the car about what you were to do. You broke the first rule in zero-point-five seconds: stay by Stiles’ side. His attempt to stop you was in vain, your smaller frame disappearing into a sea of sweaty teens in costume bouncing to some crappy techno music, alcoholic beverages in hand.

Stiles groaned, headed for the bar. Danny passed him an open beer, Stiles leaning back on it to scan the dance floor. He wanted to relax, but his nerves were wracked, wanting to ensure that nothing was going to happen. He wanted to find Scott and tell him what had happened, warning him that you were here. Stiles wanted to be prepared for whatever was going to happen. His honey orbs flitted over the crowd, memorizing the face of each vibrant student that glowed under the blacklights. Lips glowed with the phlorescent lipsticks, phosphorus paints lining some people’s face, arms and legs. Stiles struggled to find you within the blinding colorful light and strobe effects.

𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮

𝅘𝅥𝅮You can’t stop the things I do, I ain’t lyin’𝅘𝅥𝅮

Stiles’ head whipped around, trying to find the source of the singing. No one else seemed to hear the alluring melody, going about their dancing, kissing, grinding, and whatnot in a carefree atmosphere. Yet, the song called out to him, the beer left on the bartop so Stiles could weave through the crowd to find the music that overtook the techno beat.

𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮

He stopped in the middle of the dance floor, a spotlight directed at your form in his eyes to show off your swiveling hips and twirling body. You danced to the beat, eyes meeting his in a dark, electric match. Your skirt flew around as you danced, your ass shaking and your chest bouncing. A single curl of the finger gestured him forward, a charming smile making him grin.

All inhibitions were lost to your skillful moves. Stiles stepped forward, his hands on your waist. The naturally clumsy man, normally unstable when dancing, moved in time with you, rocking his hips back and forth with yours. Your chests were flat to one another, hearts pounding against your ribs. Your arms circled his neck, hands playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. Your hips ground against his, dancing together as if nothing else mattered around you.

You turned in his arms, your hands reaching around to caress his face. Your backside ground against his pelvis more, the pants he wore suddenly beginning to feel thin and tight. His head dipped down, lips brushing against your neck that made you mewl for him, tilting your head away to give him better access. Your bodies rubbed together in a heated array of limbs, grinding together in a sexy sway. Stiles’ fingers tingled, his shoulder twinging with a fiery heat.

𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮

You were suddenly pushed away, Stiles growling. “What the hell are you doing to me?” he snapped.

“I’m not doing anything,” you told him.

“I don’t believe you,” he claimed. “This is what you did last time. You sung, you lured me in, and you used me. You fed off my soul while I was enchanted by your beauty. That’s what you are doing now. You’re using me for my soul and to get you in here for everyone else.”

“Stiles, I was trying to hurt anyone, my singing would affecting more than just you. It’s supposed to lure people in for me to feed, but is that happening? No!”

“I don’t believe you,” he rasped, taking off the police hat and running a hand through his hair. “Fuck, I don’t get what is going on!”

“I’m not here to hurt anyone. If you heard me singing, it was because I’m yours. I chose you, Stiles. I told you this. Only you are affected by it. I just wanted to dance.”

“No. I don’t believe it. It’s not true.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him. Your hand ran up his body, Stiles catching your wrist before it got very far. You met his eye, staring at him with bright eyes. “How can I show you I mean it? I’m not here to hurt people, Stiles. I came back for you. So, let me show you.”

Stiles licked his lips, feeling weak while holding you. But, it was different than the last time he spent time with you. He didn’t feel weak physically or mentally. He felt weak emotionally. It wasn’t the soul sucking sensation that he didn’t understand until later. It was in his heart. He wanted to see what you were planning. He wasn’t sure why. He felt so sure that you were doing something against his will. He wanted to cast you away and never look back. But, he was aroused and intrigued and he wanted to know what you would show him. He briefly remembered the time you spent together, and that was what kept him from pushing away completely.

“Please, Stiles.”

Your whisper was the final straw for him. All conviction that you were playing him was gone, replaced by a deep arousal and fascination. He leant forward, his lips on yours in a smoldering kiss that made you melt into his hands. The kiss was short lived, your bodies pushing through the crowd to find a vacant place that allowed solitude to do somewhat unspeakable things. With Stiles knowing the layout of the loft, he was able to lead you to the closest unoccupied bathroom, shutting the door and locking it while you flicked on the lights.

His back was pressed into the door, your lips attacking his once more. You let him take control of the kiss despite keeping him secured to the door itself. His lips wrapped around yours, starting in slow but heated embraced that dragged down, disconnecting with a resonating smack. When they connected again, your lips were parted, Stiles’ tongue swirling around yours messily. The tip traced the outline of your cheeks, earning a moan that vibrated both of your bodies. Open-mouth kisses were steamy, hands roaming bodies happily. Noses bumped and teeth clashed with the hasty kisses. Stiles’ head tilting to get better access to the kiss.

He was pushed away from the door, your hands directing him to the toilet. His lips stayed n yours in a hungry kiss, your tongues battling playfully between your parted lips. Before pushing him back, your hands fiddled with his bottoms, popping the button with ease and dragging the zipper down tauntingly slow. The loose police slacks he wore dropped in a loud clink with the handcuffs, his boxer briefs falling shortly after. Stiles broke away at the sudden chill, his lower half exposed. His cock was erect, the tip blistering red with a glistening of precum seeping out of the slit. It twitched for attention, wanting to feel something around it, touching it - caressing it - loving it.

You pushed him back onto the toilet, leaning over him to leave a lingering kiss to his lips. His lips, swollen and red, remain puckered when you backed away, pushing his thighs apart to crouch between them. His gaze was hazy when he opened them to look at you, watching you remove your hat before starting. A small, dainty hand wrapped around the entirety of his length, stroking him slowly at first. Stiles’ noises were a bit disgruntled, the pleasure beginning to slowly build up, pumping through his veins one ounce at a time. His heart was speeding up and his stomach was tightening, though that was partially from anticipation for what was to come.

“Come on, baby,” he rasped, biting his lip. You looked up at him innocently, Stiles growling in his throat. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

You laughed, moving closer to him. One hand ran up his thigh casually, feeling the man shiver to your touch. He watched your tongue poke out, grazing the swollen tip like a lollipop, lapping at it happily. He was trying to remain patient, longing for you to do more than kitten lick the slit to taste his precum. His stomach churned and his sight was red with lust. The lure from before was nothing but a memory - a figment that was long forgotten. He wasn’t worried in that second that you may or may not be gaining more power from him, sucking out his soul. He just wanted more.

Your lips wrapped around the head, hollowed cheeks sucking powerfully at the tip. Stiles moaned loudly, not regretting the sound he made. He watched you suck, feeling your tongue smooth over the bumpy underside that was more sensitive than the rest of the tip. You circled the tip, mewls vibrating around him before your began bobbing along his length. Your hand stroked what wouldn’t fit in the mouth, your head and hand moving in time together. Your tongue slid up and down his shaft, finding the pulsating vein that was filled with ecstasy. Your mouth watered when it pulsed against your taste buds.

Bobbing faster and deeper, your hand wasn’t needed. Deep throating Stiles was natural to you, the tip hitting the back of your throat. His hips bucked upwards instinctually, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth and down your throat. One hand continued to grip at his thigh, scraping against his skin, while the other slid under him to fondle his balls. Your mouth made a slurping sound when you bobbed around him, your wet lips pressing to the moist length between them. Stiles’ hand threaded through your hair at some point, the curls now curling between his fingers as he tugged at it, helping to guide your mouth around him.

Stiles’ loud groan filled the bathroom, his head falling back with his eyes closed. His cock twitched between your cheeks, strings of his hot, white seed shooting down your throat in strong bursts. You mewled, swallowing every last drop that he released. The hold on your hair tightened, Stiles grunting your name on repeat, spilling the last of what he had built up onto your tongue. Not a single drop escaped, your tongue passing over your lips to catch any drop that may have slipped out just in case.

Stiles pulled you to your feet swiftly, turning you to face the mirror, your body slumped against the sink. You could see his dark eyes staring at you through the mirror, the hat on his head darkening the stare slightly with a shadow covering them. He disappeared from your sight, your skirt lifted and your thong dragged down your legs. Your legs were nudged apart, his still erect shaft sliding through your soaked core.

Stiles leaned forward, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear. “You like it hard, right?”

You felt the air leave you lungs. “Y-yeah.”

“Good. Now, make some noise for me while I fuck you.”

“Yes, please,” you squeaked weakly.

Stiles shifted backwards, the tip finding your entrance without aid. When he pushed back forward, he was sliding deep into you cock hilt deep with a prolonged moan from you. You slumped further onto the sink, pushing your ass out against him. His hips circled against it for a few moments before pulling back to start his movements. The tip nearly came from before he slammed back tino you, earning a loud moan - almost scream.

His hips collided with your backside in a quick, steady rhythm, your butt jiggling every time. Your hands held the sides of the sink to keep upright, your head spinning from the pleasure. He wasn’t slow. His cock pistoned in and out of you, the clapping sound floating through the sexy, steamy air. The tip was magnetized to your sweet spot, every slide in allowing him to hit it with optimal amount of pressure. He kept hitting it, making you moan happily.

“Moan for me,” he rasped, smacking your ass to make you moan. Your head fell forward, nowhere to hide the noises you made. Stiles seemed to approve because he sped up, pounding you harder so your body slid against the front of the sink, the sweaty sound of skin on skin getting even louder, echoing off the walls. You were tugged back to meet his thrusts, moan after moan falling from your mouth. “Yes, just like that.”

You weren’t going to last longer. Stiles made you see the stars. Fireworks popped every time he hit your g-spot, your body shaking. If the sink weren’t in front of you, you would have fallen to the ground with weak knees and an aching pussy that was ready to be claimed again. The symphony of sounds around the bathroom was music to your ears, but nothing was more distinct and pleasant to hear than Stiles’ uneven breathy moans. The thrusts were growing sloppy, indicating his nearing the end, and you were ready to feel him filling you up witht he same warm liquid you swallowed.

He was losing control when the doorknob jiggled. Stiles growled angrily, the hands he had on your waist tightening. “Occupied!” he called in a harsh tone. The fierceness of his voice broke you, a loud moan escaping your mouth. Your walls closed around him, hugging him more than the angle allowed before. Your juices spilled out around him, coating his shaft in layers of arousal. The tightness of your core made him choke on air, his eyes closing in bliss. His seed, less powerful than before, was shot into you, mixing with your juices. Your walls milked him dry, the man slumping against your back to finish his orgasm, short thrusts used for both of you to ride out your highs.

You giggled after a minute, making Stiles look at you. “Occupied,” you joked, making Stiles roll his eyes.

The man quickly moved away from your, leaving your panties on the sink next to you. You watched him in the mirror redressing himself, cursing himself under his breath. You frowned at what you saw, knowing he was regretting what had happened. You were afraid to ask.

“Stiles?”

“Sorry,” he murmured. He was conflicted. He enjoyed it - he really did. But, you were still a witch. How could be believe after the history you had together that this was something more than a soul sucking fiesta for you - that every touch you shared was powering you up for the night?His head and heart battled with neither side winning. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” you whispered.

“I…”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t have a logical answer. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know how he felt. He didn’t know what to believe. He didn’t know anything.

So he left.

The man grabbed a new beer, hoping the alcohol would dull his activate senses. Thoughts were running a million miles an hour in his head. Nothing seemed to make sense and he didn’t want to think about any of that right now. As much as he wanted to figure out what was happening, he didn’t want to figure it out. He wanted to relax. He didn’t want to worry about you and what you may or may not be doing. He didn’t want to think about how he felt. He didn’t want to remember the times he spent with you in such intimate ways. He didn’t want to think about you at all because right now, all he could see when his eyes closed was your bright and shining face. It made him feel sick - sick with want.

“Stiles!” he heard behind him. Stiles turned to the teen wolf himself who was shoving through the crowd towards him, dressed in a doctor outfit. “There you are!”

“Hey,” Stiles sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

Stiles glanced at his friend before sipping the drink, hoping it would hit him fast. “You remember that witch?” Scott nodded. “Well, she’s here.”

“She is?”

“Yup,” Stiles huffed. “She was in my room when I got home. She has been with me this entire time. She was Salem.”

“The black at you had?”

“Yeah,” Stiles replied. “She said that she’s not here to eat souls. She’s not here to do what she did last year. She apparently chose me to be with and she can only survive by being by my side. But I don’t know if she’s just fucking with me or not. I can’t think straight around her.” Stiles took off the police hat, placing it on the bar while he ruffled his hair. “There is something about her that makes my mind go blank. I’m just so drawn to her. Earlier, I swear she was singing, just like she did last year when I walked into the woods and met her. But, the singing only affected me. I was so enticed the second I saw her and I just… what the hell do I do? What is right?”

“She’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” Stiles choked. “She was in the bathroom last time I saw…”

“Doing what?” Scott asked. Stiles flushed, Scott narrowing his eyes on the human. “Really? She could be potentially using you again and you sleep with her?”

“I couldn’t stop myself!” Stiles protested. “I told you. I cannot think straight when I’m around her. One minute we are dancing, the next I push her away because I think she’s playing me, then I find myself kissing her. I couldn’t stop it. It just kind of happened and now I’m freaking out because I’m confused. I’ve never felt like this around a girl. Being with her literally feels right. I feel so complete and my heart feels full and my body is warm. Then I walked away and… I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t feel good. I feel sick and cold like my heart had stopped. It’s like a piece of me is gone. My shoulder burns where this stupid mark is. And this time, I don’t feel the way I did last time. When we were together before, it felt like part of me was dying. I felt weak physically because I was drained. But, I didn’t have that same sensation. I don’t think she was feeding off my soul. I don’t know anymore. I don’t know what to do and I don’t know what to think, Scott.”

“Stilinski has a crush,” Danny spoke up. The two boys turned to the shirtless man behind the bar. “What? It’s true.”

“No. I don’t have a crush,” Stiles denied.

“Well, then you wouldn’t be upset if I tell you that Colby is hitting on your girl?”

“What?!” Stiles snapped.

“Yeah. That girl over there is the one you came with, right?” Danny pointed towards the crowd, Stiles whipping around to see the cocky lacrosse player leaning smoothly against the wall in front of you, trying to lay on the charm Stiles knew he had. You held a smile as you talked to him, Stiles’ heart frozen and dropping into his stomach. He didn’t know what you were discussing, but he knew he didn’t like it. A fuse was lit, Stiles growling lowly.

“Fucking Colby.”

“Stiles, calm down.”

“I told you he liked her,” Danny mumbled.

Scott shook his head, grabbing his friend’s arm. “Relax, Stiles.”

“I’m going to beat his face in,” Stiles huffed. “Who gave him the right to talk to her?”

“Are you saying this because you don’t want her talking to him because she is a witch? Or because you don’t want him talking to her?”

Stiles didn’t answer, breaking away from his friend to make his way towards you. Scott threw his hands up, keeping an eye on his friend just in case things got hairy. Knowing that you were there, Scott was being apprehensive, prepared to jump in at any time. Something told him that Stiles was right and you weren’t there to hurt anyone. If you were, you would have done something by now, the people around being lured to your side so you could drain their souls. But, you only focused on Stiles, your eyes drifting to the spazz from afar. But, Scott remained on his toes, seeing as the main brain of the pack was flustered beyond belief from his frazzled emotions. Mostly, he wanted to make sure that Stiles didn’t get hurt - emotionally and physically.

Stiles stormed up to the much taller lacrosse player, hearing the things he said to you. “If you want to, we could dance a bit. Maybe get to know each other. A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be alone on Halloween.” Colby reached forward to swipe a hand through bits of your hair, Stiles glaring at the man. “Maybe when we are done, we can get out of here and go somewhere a bit quieter, just the two of us.”

“I appreciate the offer,” you told him. Stiles felt his heart sink, his body feeling heavy. He knew you weren’t there for him. You were using him to get access to your next meal so you could survive another year. And it broke his heart a bit without him knowing. “But, I’m not interested.”

“Excuse me?” Colby asked. Stiles smiled slightly at the angered man. “No one turns this down, sweetheart.”

“I’m not interested. I’m sorry,” you huffed. “I already have a guy I like and you’re not him. I’m not here for you or anyone else. I just wanted to have some fun. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to relax.”

“Then I can help with that.”

“No, I’m fine. I’m not interested.”

Stiles’ heart lifted when he heard your words. He didn’t know why, but your words warmed him. It made his heart flutter, his stomach rampaging against him. He stopped in his tracks taking a second to gaze at you. Your eyes showed your disinterest in the lacrosse player’s failed flirting. He could feel your annoyance. And the entire time Stiles stared at you, he felt the familiar warmth inside of him bubbling like a potion. You were truly beautiful in his honey eyes, every aspect of your mind, body and soul appealing to him. He yearned to pull you into his arms, holding you close so Colby couldn’t lay a finger on you. Stiles wanted to be the only one you looked at, the only one you felt and he wanted you to be the only girl he held.

His tongue passed over his lips, the realization setting in. I like her. A lot. Even if you had lied to him, he felt something deep inside. You had a real connection with one another. He hadn’t stopped thinking about you for the last year and you had been by his side the entire time. Now, you were back, and he wanted to embrace that. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to repeat your actions from the prior year. He wanted to be with you. Your denial with Colby showed that you weren’t there to destroy the town, to kill someone by sucking out their soul with your alluring voice.

He had been wrong to judge you. He believed you. And he wanted you.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that,” Colby pressed, reaching forward towards you. That’s when Stiles stepped in.

“She said no, Colby. So back off.”

“Stiles,” you mumbled, surprised to see him after he left you alone. Your hand met his strong met, your heart jumping. The skin on skin contact tingled. Stiles glanced down at you, his eyes showing how he felt. He nodded at you discretely, making you smile. Sinking into his side, Stiles wrapping his arm around you slightly. The butterflies roared, making your body feel more powerful than before.

“Fuck off, Stilinski. We were having a conversation,” Colby sneered.

“It was a pretty one sided conversation,” Stiles told him sarcastically. “She told you to lay off. She isn’t interested.”

Colby looked back and forth between you both, scoffing. “Stilinski? Really, sweetheart? You can choose someone way better.”

“I’m sure he has a bigger dick than you,” you snapped. “At least, a dick that could please me. Because he has. More than once. And I want it many, many more times. He gives me life.” Stiles knew you meant it literally.

“I doubt that,” Colby huffed.

“Look, I told you I wasn’t interest. And that’s the truth. I came here with Stiles. I plan to leave here with Stiles. I don’t care about anyone else here.”

“Well, you can just leave with me and I will show you a real good time-”

“She said no!” Stiles growled, shoving Colby back. “Just lay off my girl, man!”

“You don’t deserve a beauty like her,” Colby growled. “You’re a nobody!”

“I’m better for her than you are,” Stiles argued. “You’re just a dumb jock with a small dick that thinks he can charm his way into any girls pants. But guess what. She’s too good for you. You’re a nobody. Where as me, I can actually show her a good time. She’s mine, Colby. Get over it.”

Colby pushed Stiles, who pushed him back. “You want to fight, Stilinski? Let’s fight then!”

You slipped between the two males in a flash, a hand pressed to Colby’s chest. “Stop it,” you huffed. A powerful force was released from your hand, pushing Colby back into a table of food, salsa, punch and chips covering his fake leather jacket and greasy greaser hair. Stiles gaped at the simple magic you used, feeling you take his hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Yes please,” Stiles mumbled.

He allowed you to drag him out of the loft, Scott sending him a look that told him to be careful. Stiles nodded at him, following you out to the jeep. Roscoe rumbled to life, pulling out of the parking lot and racing down the road.

“Stiles…” you started, unsure what else to say.

“Did you mean it?” he asked, turning to you as he drove. “That you weren’t interested in him? That you only liked one guy? That you weren’t there for others?”

“Of course,” you told him. “If I wanted to hurt anyone, I would have done it, Stiles. You wouldn’t be able to stop me if I actually wanted to do something. My singing is powerful. My magic is powerful. I can put you under my spell in a snap and you wouldn’t even know it.”

“Like last time,” Stiles huffed. “I was so taken by you, I didn’t even know what was happening.”

“Exactly. I lure people in, Stiles. That’s how I deceived them so I could keep my power. But, not anymore. I chose to be here to be with you. When you turned up last year unexpectedly, I didn’t expect to enjoy myself as much as I did. Yes, I drained your soul somewhat. I won’t deny that. But what we did… it meant something to me. It was so much better than anything I’ve had and I don’t want to give that up. I want you. You’re special and I only want that. The only spell I cast was by giving you that mark so that I am yours and you are mine.”

Stiles drummed his fingers on the wheel before he spoke up. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

“I don’t blame you,” you laughed. “I didn’t give you much reason to believe me. I drew you in, I toyed with your mind, I fucked you, I fed off your soul, and then I left to feed on children. I lied to you. Yeah, I wouldn’t believe me either. But, if I was just going to come back and feed on children, would I have come back to you?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles shrugged, looking over at you. “Maybe I just had a very tasty soul and you couldn’t get enough of me.”

You laughed, nodding at him. “You actually had a very tasty soul. It’s sweet and tangy.”

“Really?” Stiles asked.

“Oh yeah,” you hummed. “Rather delectable if I must say. But, that jealous side of you earlier? I have to say, Stiles. That was incredibly sexy.”

“Was it now?”

“Oh yeah,” you mused. “Seeing you stand up to that asshole, defending me. Being a little dominant to defend your girl. Definitely a turn on.”

Stiles choked on air, shifting in his seat. “You don’t say.”

“You know,” you began, lifting the end of your dress. Your fingers passed over your covered core, already wet. “That little rendezvous we had in the bathroom wasn’t enough for me. I could use a little bit of jealous Stiles in my life.”

Stiles took a deep breath, his knuckles going white as they squeezed at the wheel. “Fuck, what do you do to me? How do you just manage to make me feel like this?” he asked. “I just feel so complete and eager and God, I am ready.”

You laughed, leaning over the police scanner to kiss his cheek, Stiles sighing happily at the tender kiss. “It’s because you love me. And I’m all yours.”

“My own personal witch?” he asked.

“You could say that,” you teased.

“God, I love you,” he rasped. You smiled. Pulling him into a kiss the second he parked the jeep in his driveway. He barely had time to kill the engine before he was turned in his seat to meet your lips in a feverish kiss. Your tongues tangled between your cheeks, your hands threading through his hair over and over until it was a mess of locks. His hands were attempting to pull you over the console, wanting to roam your body.

The kiss broke with a noisy smack, the windows of the jeep beginning to fog over from the heated aura you were producing. “House. Now. I’m tired of denying that I want this. I’m tired of waiting. Fuck, I want you. I want this. I believe you, Y/N. I want this so bad.”

“Then stop talking and take me, Stiles. I’m all yours.”

Dragging you up the stairs in the house was a no brainer. Stiles was glad his dad still wasn’t home since he was stripping himself of the police costume on the way down the hall, your boots coming off and your hat floating to the wood flooring, forgotten in your future misdeeds. Stiles shut the door quickly when you entered his room, the man pulling you into his chest to place a sensual kiss to your lips. Your arms wrapped around his waist, sinking into the kiss he gave you. You let him control it, his lips dragging along yours before breaking away, delving into another kiss instantly.

The kisses got more heated, Stiles head tilting to either side so he could mash his lips to yours perfectly. The sparks were flying every time they connected, the residual sound of their connection growing louder and more frequent. The smack of lips was prominent, echoing through the crisp air of the bedroom. Tongues battled playfully with Stiles winning every time, trails of saliva stringing you together when you pulled away for bursts of fresh air.

The dress melted from your form, pulled over your head and discarded carelessly. Honey eyes narrowed with dilated pupils, taking in the nearly nude body before him. You stood in just a pair of wet panties that he wanted to rip off you, literally. With each step he took forward, you stepped back until your legs connected to the bed. Stiles pushed you into a sitting position, taking your wrists in his hands.

“Keep them here,” he told you, slowly pulling off the arm sleeves you were wearing. Your hands were left extended before you, wrists touching slightly. You watched Stiles remove the handcuffs that dangled from his belt, the key placed on his bedside table. The metal clanged as he wrapped them around your wrists, letting them fall into your lap clasped together. He took the arm sleeves you wore before, tying them together before wrapping it around your head, your vision going pure black. You let him do what he wanted, enjoying the touch the man gave you. You were enthralled by it, relishing in the bliss it gave you already.

Stiles leaned into your ear, the hot breath making you shiver. “Lay down,” he demanded with a husky voice. You moaned, doing ask he asked. Your bare back was laid to the mattress, your bound hands resting to your stomach. Your legs, dangling over the side of the end, were pushed apart, the thong you had on snapped from your waist. The thing strap on the right side was torn, the silky material removed from your lower half immediately.

Two fingers ran through your folds, Stiles’ ears perking up at your loud moans. The tips probed the entrance, dipping in slightly before pulling back out. “What do you want, Y/N?” he asked.

“You,” you told him through a whining mewl. “I need you, Stiles. Please.”

“You still like it hard and fast?” he questioned.

“Yes,” you moaned. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember that night together so clearly. I’ve dreamt of it because it was that good. That amazing. I always asked myself what I would do if I saw you again because I was mad you left after that. I thought I would hate you but man, I lied to myself. I want to feel you, all of you, only you.”

“Please, Stiles,” you cried. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Stiles grinned, slipping the two fingers into you. He watched you back arch when they spread your apart, opening your entrance to the air around you, scissoring your pussy quickly. The tips curled to scratch at your sensitive walls, the fingers squishing in your wetness with his quick thrusts. He watched the way your breasts jiggled with the thrusts of his fingers, your chest heaving for air. His free hand darted out to grab one, fondling the mound and the hard, boisterous nipple between his fingers. The combined effort made you moan louder than before, urging him to do more.

He pulled out, despite your noisy pleas. The hand sayed on your breast, the fingers that once pushed into you are a rapid pace, finger fucking you into heaven, were placed to your lips. Stiles grunted when your lips parted, taking the two digits between them. Your tongue swirled around them, sliding along his skin to taste yourself. Your lips puckered around him, swollen and red from the relentless kissing you had done upon arrival to his room. They parted when he pulled his fingers free, the pads smoothing over your extended tongue until they flicked off the end of it.

You could hear the rustle of his clothes when he backed away, the loss of body heat leaving you cold and lonely. You wished you could watch him undress, only your imagination left to wonder what he was doing. You could picture the way he unbutton the shirt the rest of the way since he had gotten half of them off on the trek down the hall. You thought about how he would shrug the fabric off his broad shoulders and down his bulging arms that were muscled from lacrosse. You saw his lanky fingers undoing the button on his pants, pushing them and his Calvin Klein’s down his legs until his cock was springing free slapping his stomach so a single string of precum connected the tip to his wonderful happy trail of hair that led to his giant package. You wanted to see him in all his naked glory before you would drop to the ground, sucking his cock happily.

His cock slid between your folds, your back arching off the bed once more. Your hands clawed at your stomach, unable to claw at anything else around you. You whimpered for him, waiting for him to fll you like you wished. He slid in once, bottoming out before he pulled out completely. You felt a void, getting filled for a half second before it was ruined. He did it repeatedly, taunting you with the action. You were being teased, toyed with before you got the main course.

“Please, Stiles,” you pleaded. “Don’t tease me.”

“But I love hearing you whimper for me,” he murmured deeply. You whined, a mewl laced throughout it. “Don’t you like my cock filling you up repeatedly.”

“Yes, but I want it to stay inside me. Please,” you cried. “I love this dominating spirit, but please. I need you to fuck me. Please, Stiles. I need you so bad. Don’t tease me. Just pound me hard and fast until I’m cumming all over your cock.”

“Is that what you really want?” he asked, shoving in before he vanished again. You nodded quickly, hair flying around in the process. “Alright. I want to hear you scream.”

The next thrust into you, he stayed. His cock pistoned in and out of you quickly, pounding you into the mattress while he stayed with his feet planted to the carpet. Your hips clapped together with a resonating frequency, smack after smack of skin filling the room with your moaning screams. His fingers dug into the sides of your thighs, your legs wrapped around his waist to push him into you deeper. The tip hit your sweet spot every time he pushed into you, making your head fly back in ecstasy. The lack of vision amplified the pleasure, your body shaking in happiness.

“Yes! Just like that! Oh my god!” you screamed, your arms extending above your head while your back arched more. Stiles groaned, watching your body jostle with his powerful thrusts, breasts bouncing with his movements.

“I forgot how much I missed this,” he groaned, snapping his hips into yours. He was pushed as far in as he could go, his balls hitting your folds as he did. Your walls convulsed around him, making it harder to move but adding the the pleasure he felt. He pushed through it, his cock twitching and pulsating through your walls into the blood in your veins. “The bathroom earlier wasn’t enough at all. God, I could do this every second of every day and never get tired of it.”

“Oh, Stiles. Please. More!” you moaned.

You were pulled closer into him so he could piston as fast as possible, his eyes closing to chase his high. He was weak, the arousal in his system too much for him. Watching you squirm from what he was doing, hearing you moan and scream his name, and feeling his cock entering and exiting your snug, wet pussy was making his stomach knot. The feeling she felt for you, his denial replaced with acceptance, ignited the fire, knowing that you were there to be with him. He didn’t have the same weakness as the prior year. He felt full and complete and he was going to revel in that feeling as long as he could.

His will didn’t last long. You were quivering against his sheets, letting out an elongated moan of his name. Your walls hugged his shaft, juices splattering around it in bursts of pleasure. Your fluids coated his length, your toes curling into his backside and your head flying back. The warmth and moisture of your core became too much for the man, his thrusts slowing to a gentle push when the climax came. His seed shot off inside of you, mixing with your juices in strings of scalding hot white drops. The coil he had was gone, exploding into fireworks from a sea of flames your bodies produced. His pushes slowed, your tight walls milking the last drops fro the tip of his length, greedily taking every last drop he ejaculated.

Stiles fumbled to remove the handcuffs and makeshift blindfold, moving you properly into his bed. His body collapsed next to you, your head resting on his chest. The blankets covered your forms, your legs tangled together under the sheets. Your hand rested to his heart, feeling the quick beats slowing to a normal pace under the tips. Your moved to trace the cat mark on his shoulder once, feeling his shiver to your touch.

“Sleep, Stiles,” you told him, seeing the man beginning to doze when you looked at him.

“The last time you told me to sleep, I fell asleep and you were gone when I woke up,” he drowsily spoke up. “I don’t want you to turn back into a cat. I want you to stay here. With me.”

“Don’t worry,” you mused, running a hand through his hair that was wet with perspiration. “I will always be by your side.”

Stiles wanted to retort, but he was drifting - fast. His eyes went hazy, going dark before he knew it. The last thing he saw before he fell into a restful sleep was your beautiful eyes staring back at him with a tale of love, his body full and warm instead of cold and weak like last time. His soul was bright, feeling alive with you in his arms.

He just wasn’t ready to see his cat again.

~

The sun was what woke Stiles up, peeking through hs blinds directly into his eyes. He groaned, draping his arm over his orbs to shield them from the bright rays. He shifted, stretching his stiff limbs. He was fully rested after the eventful Halloween night of topsy turvy events. He recalled everything that happened, wondering if it was all a dream. Had you really been there? Or, was it all a spell he placed on himself wishing for something to happen?

He knew it wasn’t a dream at all.

He remembered the frantic thoughts of what was true. He remembered the lure to the dance floor. He remembered the bathroom. He remembered the jealousy. And he remembered the bedroom.

Blinking his eyes open, he expected to see the black cat by his side. But the pressure against the side of his body wasn’t that of a cat. His head turned, jaw dropping to find you sleeping beside him. The blanket had fallen off your chest, exposing your breasts to him - perky nipples and all. He slapped himself a few times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but you never faded.

Stiles smiled, not caring about morning breath or that you were sleeping. His body turned and his lips pressed to yours in a fiery kiss that woke you up. Your moaned into him, one arm wrapping around his neck. Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, licking his lips.

“You’re here,” he whispered.

“I’m here,” you replied.

He leaned in to kiss you again, unknowingly falling for the spell called love. Still, he knew that he was all yours. He had been since he heard your voice.

And you were his. And you always would be.

𝅘𝅥𝅮I’ve put a spell on you, and now you’re mine𝅘𝅥𝅮

Errthang Tag 2.0: @catcrown21; @voidkitsune24; @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone; @savage-stilinski; @twilightparker; @rumoured-whispers; @youshiverwhenyouhearmyname; @caitsymichelle13; @addicttotw; @fox-lau; @xmadwonderland; @kaelyn-lobrutto24; @lobrien; @kal-pal; @espermirror; @nowthisiswaar; @belleknows; @ashpie97; @mixedupsammy; @dylobrienlover; @newtosaur250; @bandsweyhey; @offthewallspidey; @livinginadreamersparadise; @tommyswolves; @ashotofblues; @bilesbilinskix; @danathewitchywoman; @thisismexxo; @you-all-have-guns; @soulaura-canavel; @bojabee; @obrienswxlf; @feelingsareharddd; @xoitsjustmexo;@supernaturaltakeover; @suggsmate; @cassiee867; @lara-stilinski; @barryallenplease; @herscrunchiehairtie; @bottleoffirewhisky; @jadalecki-jackles; @evansesdust; @everythingthatisrandom; @puppiesarehappiness; @ixlovexpeterxparker; @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed; @tenseoyong; @jadav5; @mischiefandi; @myrandomzshit; @disbestiles; @mxtchsbxtch; @dafine18; @avadakedabitch; @girlwiththerubyslippers; @xpinkyprincess; @ssweet-empowerment; @jackles-jadalecki; @dobseventeen; @dylnobrien1911, @redstringlovers; @brien-odylan; @xxxxdelenaxxxx; @katlovey14; @deajm2116; @loverofwaytoomanythings618;  @megreadss; @nooneelsethandacre; @dvlob; @rubyocampobitch; @lolitskatttttt; @debaucheryfinest; @mrsmitchrapp; @withinyourstars; @redsalv20; @kwaldorfff; @thegirlwhoimagined; @sellinxhs; @preciousnewt

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#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien smut #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski smut #teen wolf #teen wolf smut #dylan #dylan smut #dylan x reader #dylan x reader smut #dylan obrien #dylan obrien smut #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader smut #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski x reader smut #stiles #stiles smut #stuart twombly #the internship #american assassin #thomas #maze runner #mitch rapp #mieczyslaw stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles x reader smut #smut

[mistwolf45]

Silver Roses

Chapter Three

"Why is he here?" Hellboy groans as he sat down in the briefing room. 

Nuada stood, leaning against the doorframe as Manning set a dossier on the long, oval table. 

"Because I asked him to be." He says simply. Hellboy grumbles to himself, keeping the Prince in his peripheral vision. Liz sat next to him and he rested his stone hand on the back of her chair.

Manning opens the file and pans through it. "We have some reports of a ghost whisperer -a real ghost whisperer- in rural Nebraska." He says.

"So what? It's a fake. A charlatan." Hellboy shrugs.

"Not this one, at least we hope." Manning says. He glances to the seat beside him where a young woman sat. She was a new agent, only in her twenties, but she was smart and very accomplished. Not to mention she had a special...ability. Controlling and manipulating electricity. Agent Lydia Bellaire.

"True ghost whisperers are almost impossible to come by. Mostly because the real ones don't make themselves known to the public. Typically it truly is fakes and charlatans putting on seance's and making money off of the public." She says.

"And we think this one is real because…?" Liz asks.

"According to anyone in town who had a reading by this girl, this…" Lydia took a moment to flip through the file looking for the name. "Rosemary Moore; well they claim whatever she predicted came true and she knew things that she truly couldn't possibly know."

Hellboy scoffs and chuckles. "Doesn't everyone say that about psychics?"

"These are a bit more extreme." Lydia says as she pulls some reports out. "Let's see…"She knew that I had been raped when I was 13 years old, which is something I never told anyone. She even told me his name and gave a description of him"." 

"And she just... magically knew this?" Liz asks.

"No...she apparently channeled this woman's dead grandmother." Lydia says as she keeps looking over the file.

"So her grandmother knew and didn't say anything?" Hellboy raised a brow.

"Apparently the grandmother was dead long before the rape." Lydia sighs softly. "Ghosts are tricky things and from what I've gathered from research is that they can tap into all kinds of knowledge. Seeing into the future, or knowing things that simply shouldn't be known from the past and present."

"So...a psychic gets their readings straight from ghosts?" Liz asks.

"I'm not positive. That's why we'd like to go out and meet this Rosemary." Lydia says.

"And you wanna send us? This ain't a big deal, send someone like Myers." Hellboy says.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you liked going out." Agent Manning mocks, making Hellboy's face go a little redder.

"I was hoping it could be Hellboy, Nuada and myself." Lydia says as she stood. 

"Him? Why him?" Hellboy juts his thumb behind him where Nuada still stood, silent and still like an old oak tree. His gold eyes narrowed at Lydia as he honestly wondered the same thing. Why him?

"Well we're short on agents at the moment, and I also want to test this ghost whisperer." Lydia says.

"Test how?" Hellboy asks.

Lydia reached into her bag and pulled out two necklaces that looked ancient and gold.

Nuada's eyes flashed and he stormed over.

"Where did you get these?" He hisses at the young woman who kept a good poker face, even though she felt her insides shiver with anxiety. 

"Your sister." Lydia says simply. "She's already charmed them to you and Agent Hellboy specifically."

Nuada looked like he was seething. He hated seeing elvish relics in the hands of humans. They didn't belong there! And his own sister had handed them over...

"What are those?" Liz asks.

"Let the demon put his on." Nuada scoffs. "You'll see." He slipped away from the table to skulk in the corner.

Lydia held out a necklace to Hellboy and he looked at it as if she was holding out a dead cat. "What's that gonna do to me?"

"You won't feel a thing." Lydia sighs as she comes around the table to Hellboy. "The Princess already showed me and it's actually pretty cool."

Hellboy winced  and closed his eyes as Lydia reached up and let the necklace fall down around his neck. He didn't feel anything but he heard everyone gasp.

"What? What happened?" He lets one eye crack open a little. 

Lydia fished out a mirror from her bag and held it out to him and as he looked in he just about fell back in his chair.

"What the fuck." He says as he touches his cheek. He still felt the same but the face looking back wasn't him at all. He looked...normal. Pale, human flesh, blue eyes, salt and pepper hair. As Hellboy kept touching his face his fingers touched his horn stubs. He still felt the same.

"It's a glamor spell." Nuada explains. "So even creatures who aren't fae can change how they look."

"And if this girl is legit, she should be able to see through it. Literally or figuratively." Lydia says. "Plus you guys can go into town with me without causing a riot."

Hellboy was still looking in the mirror, checking out his face. He still looked like his original self in some ways, the build of his face and things like that. "Can I keep this?" He asks.

"No." Everyone else says in unison.

"Man this place is small." Hellboy looks out the window of the van as Lydia drove into the small town in Nebraska. 

"Ogallala." Lydia sighs softly. "It's nice. It's quaint." She says.

Hellboy had already slipped on his glamor necklace and tucked it under his shirt to hide it. Nuada was in the back seat of the van, spread out and seemingly asleep. 

Lydia drove through and pulled up next to a small motel. It looked cheap, but they wouldn't be staying here very long.

"Agent Silverlance, your necklace." Lydia says. 

Hellboy looks over his shoulder at the elf prince. He was genuinely curious to see what he would look like as a human.

Nuada sighs and sat up, pulling his golden chain and amulet out of his pocket and slipping it over his head. In an instant he morphed into a handsome human. Tan skin and blue eyes. Instead of long hair his head had a close shave. It was a drastic change and he looked utterly normal.

"Let's do this." Lydia sighs as she got out. Hellboy and Nuada followed. It was overcast and humid, promising rain later. Lydia pulled her leather jacket tighter around her body. A chill in the air signaled Autumn was creeping in. 

Lyida paid for a maximum of two nights for a room. The biggest there only had two beds which meant, if anyone got the chance to sleep she'd have to bunk with someone. She was already picking Hellboy because she was worried the elf prince might kill her if she was in the same bed as him.

They unload the bags they had brought and Lydia pulled out a local map and began going over it with a red marker. 

"So one of these reports actually gives directions to the farmhouse." Lydia bit down on the marker cap and pulled it off before she began to go over the map.

"It's not too far from Ash Hollow." She mumbled around it.

"What's that?" Hellboy asks.

"There's a museum and everything. It's on the Oregon Trail. Some people died of dysentery." Lydia explains as she kept glancing at her papers and slowly traced a red line across her map. "I've heard it's really nice out there ...here we go." Lydia circles a spot in the middle of nowhere.

"The farmhouse should be right here."

After breakfast at a nearby diner -where Lydia had pancakes and yogurt, Hellboy ate as much as he could without drawing attention, and Nuada just had a cup of black coffee that he barely touched- they were off to the farmhouse.

It was a long drive out through nothing but corn and wheat fields and there were no other cars coming or going. Lydia let Hellboy drive since it was something he didn't get to do very often. She would reach over and shift gears for him so he didn't break the shifter with his glamoured stone hand. 

A misty rain had begun to fall and the overcast got thicker. There was an ominous feel in the air with it and Lydia thought of the old "Children of the Corn" movies. 

"This is a long damn drive." Hellboy groans. It felt like they'd hardly been moving, everything looked the same outside. Finally the earth began to change a little, slipping up or down. Bluffs and small cliffs popped up on either side. They would have made excellent look outs for the Native Americans who had once lived on the land. 

It was kind of peaceful actually. The light rain made everything look an even deeper green. Nuada kept his eyes out the window, savoring it. If only he could just throw this door open and jump from the vehicle. To hell with his injuries; he could bolt for the fields and never be seen again.

He rubbed his left wrist hard, tugging at the tracking bracelet that was locked onto him. He remembered the shock it could give him as well. He wouldn't get two feet before someone pushed that button…

"Here!" Lydia says, pointing to a dirt road that broke off the pavement. Hellboy came to a screeching stop making the trio lurch forwards in their seats. 

"Fuck!" He winced and Lydia rubbed her shoulder. "You're ok." She assures him. No one had been behind them thankfully. 

Hellboy kept the van parked in the middle of the road a moment as he and Lydia squinted at an old looking sign posted by the dirt road. 

"Fortune telling and seances like nowhere else! You won't be disappointed! Not for the faint of heart. $60 per person, price non-negotiable. Worth every penny!"

"That seems excessive." Hellboy says as he turns into the dirt road. 

"Money is no object thankfully." Lydia says as she keeps an eye out for anything as they drove down the road. More cornfields on either side of them, closer now and making her feel boxed in. Thankfully the road wasn't long and an old, falling apart farmhouse came into view. 

Hellboy pulled the van up by an old, dead tree and Lydia put it into park for him and turned off the ignition.

"Creepy." She observes.

Good thing that kinda thing doesn't bother us." Hellboy smirks. 

The three got out of the van and stretched a moment. The rain was getting heavier and the sky was getting darker. Lydia quickly went up the old creaking steps into the wrap around porch. She waited for Hellboy and Nuada to be right behind her before she gave the front door a few good, hard knocks.

Just a half-hour earlier

When Rose had found the old hairpin in a crack between the floorboards she almost lost her composure. She'd been slipping away to bed the night before, late like always because she did all the cleaning up after dinner. Her uncle had been in the den, smoking and reading a book, so she had to be discreet about it. She pretended to trip on her chain -which of course awarded her with cruel jokes and chastising from her uncle- but it was just enough. She pried the pin out and found her footing again before slipping away to the closet under the stairs. It had been her bedroom for the whole ten years she'd lived here. Her aunt had said it was the only space she had for Rose; apparently her cousins refused to let her bunk with them in their rooms and there was no sofa to sleep on.

It was small and cramped but it was Rose's little slice of solitude. 

She slipped into the closet and shut the door behind her, stuffing an old rag into the hole where the doorknob should be. One good thing about using the closet as a bedroom, is there was a heating vent right in the corner. Rose could hear every word said in every room of the house, and she waited until she heard everyone go to bed and kept waiting to make sure they were all asleep. 

Finally, the only sounds she could hear was the creaking of the house settling and the furnace in the basement kicking in.

In the closet there was only a small lamp to see by and it's batteries were getting low. The light was dim and flickering and Rose was worried it wouldn't last long enough for her to pick the lock on her shackled leg.

She fumbled with the hair pin, slipping it into the keyhole and twisting it around. Damn it, this used to be so easy…picking locks wasn't that hard!

She was getting frustrated and desperate and her hands began shaking and forcing the pin roughly.

She lost her grip and it popped out of the keyhole, 

Rose bit her tongue to keep from screaming every curse she knew. And of course, because someone up there must have a vendetta against her, her lamp died out, leaving her in the pitch dark.

"Damnit damnit damnit!" Rose hisses as she gritted her teeth. 

Her fingers run along the floorboards in desperation, praying and begging under her breath. Her little closet room had never felt so vast before. The night had already passed and she was beginning to hear birds chirping outside. Once the sun was up, she might have a chance of seeing the floor, but she also had a very high risk of being spotted and caught again if she ran.

For once Rose wished a ghost would just help her for once! Sure, they came around when they needed something from her, but God forbid they could ever give her something in return! 

Yeah, come around and drain my energy. Leave your ugly feelings inside of me when I channel you and give your messages to loved ones. Can't a single one of you just pick up a hairpin and fucking shove it in my hand?!

Cold metal. Her fingertips barely register it at first, but it was there. Rose scrambles up the pin feeling her heart begin to pound so loudly she wondered if she would wake up the entire household.

This time she forces herself to be steady and slow with it. If she lost the pin again she was screwed.

Click

The lock twisted and popped off the shackle and clattered to the floor.

Rose gently removed the metal loop from her ankle and she rubbed the dark and bloodied ring it had left.

No time for that. She tells herself. She could take care of her injuries when she was Scott free. 

She fumbled around in her closet a few moments more, pulling on socks and grabbing a pair of battered cowgirl boots before she slowly opened the closet door. 

The first few bits of sunlight were peeking through the curtains, casting the house in a deep navy blue.

Her covered feet made little noise as she slowly scooted towards the kitchen. She'd have to leave through the backdoor because the lock on it was broken. The front door always stayed locked until her uncle got up, which would be any minute now. Farmers got up as the sun did.

As Rose reached the kitchen door she could hear the distant beep-beep-beep of an alarm clock upstairs and her heart wrenches. 

In a panic she bolted out the door, stumbling and tripping as she pulled on her boots and she ran as fast as she could into the foggy early morning.

The door opened very quickly after Lydia knocked. An older, very scrawny woman stood in the doorway, wearing flannel, jeans and boots.

"Can I help you?" She asks.

"Yes, my brothers and I saw your sign out by the road, about having a psychic?" Lydia says, playing the part very well. Although this woman obviously wasn't convinced that Hellboy and Nuada were her brothers, glamor or none. However, she didn't mention it. In fact the word psychic almost made her look panicky. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, is this the wrong house?" Lydia asks quickly.

"No...ah, our meetings with my niece are typically by appointment only." The woman says.

"We could come back." Lydia suggested but she really hated to do that. One, the trip out here was long but two, most importantly, this woman was giving her a very bad feeling in the pot of her stomach. She seemed off somehow. Crooked.

"No, no...if you have an extra twenty per person, I think we can forgive you." The woman says.

Lydia did the math in her head. $60 per person with an extra $20 tacked on would be $240. Good thing the BPRD was government funded and had very deep pockets, she'd hate to pay that out of her own pocket for what might be a complete scam. She didn't flinch as she pulled out her wallet and counted out two hundred and forty dollars and handed it over. The woman took the time to count it of course before she smiles softly and held out her hand. 

"My name's Bitsy Saunders, come on in."

Lydia shook it before stepping inside. The farmhouse was rustic and quaint. She looked around, spotting a small room sectioned off by thick, red drapes. 

"Head in inside, Rosemary will be with you shortly." Bitsy says. Lydia slipped into the small room. It was dark and cozy with red drapes along the walls. Trinkets and talismans dangled from the ceiling. Nuada scoffs softly as he looks around. All junk just for show. 

Hellboy hung back a little, peeking out from the curtain and keeping a close eye on Bitsy. Lydia hadn't been the only one to catch a funky feeling off the woman.

He narrowed his eyes as he watched the old woman go to the closet under the stairs and knock on the door.

"Rose we have clients." She hisses. "Get your lazy bones up!"

Apparently there was no answer from inside because Bitsy flings the door open and froze.

Hellboy slipped into the seance room and shook his head. "I think you just blew 240 bucks Lyd." 

"Why do you say that?" Lydia was playing around with the lucky rabbits feet that dangled from the sides of the small round table.

As if on cue Bitsy blew in past the red curtain door looking pale. "I'm sorry but she's not feeling very well at all today." 

I'm sorry to hear that." Lydia says, but she didn't believe a word of it. "You don't think I could just see her a moment? I only have a couple of questions to ask her."

"No! No...she's...my husband is taking her to town to see a doctor as we speak." Bitsy says. Something no one believed. There hadn't been any vehicles out front when they'd arrived and the house seemed completely empty save for Mrs. Saunders.

Lydia wasn't sure what she should do. Rosemary Moore could be laying dead somewhere for all she knew.

"You sure about that lady? You looked pretty surprised when you opened that closet. And please don't tell me that's your nieces bedroom." Hellboy scoffs.

Bitsy set her jaw and and shoves the curtain door open. "Please go."

"No refund?" Hellboy cocks his head, trying to get a rise out of this woman.

"Let's just go." Nuada scoffs as he slipped past Bitsy. He glanced over his shoulder, noticing that she was still focused on Lydia and Hellboy, so he slipped towards the closet door that was still standing open.

"I said leave!" Bitsy was getting very agitated and Lydia grabbed Hellboy's arm. 

"Let's go. She's not some monster you can beat in with your hand, she's an old woman." She whispers.

"Fine." Hellboy pulled away from Lydia and shoves past Bitsy and Lydia followed. 

"Your niece run away for a good reason?" Nuada calls from the closet door.

Mrs. Saunders's eyes went wide as she saw him bent over looking into the small space and Lydia quickly joined him and she felt her blood starting to boil. It was a cramped, sorry excuse of a place to keep someone. It was obviously being lived in quite a bit.

"You have no right to be nosing around my house! I'm sorry if we're not rich like you fucking City folk and can afford a nice big house with a bedroom for everyone in it!" She yells. "Now get out before I call the police!"

Hellboy was glaring at the woman, feeling his blood rage in his veins. Even Nuada felt sick and angry. He could see the chain and shackles laying on the floor…the woman had been a prisoner…

Lydia grabbed both men by their shirt collars and drug them towards the front door.

"We'll see who will be calling the police on who!" She yells over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her.

"We can't just fucking leave." Hellboy hisses at her as she storms to the van.

"Why not? She's not here and there's nothing we can do." Lydia sighs. "The woman got away on her own and she's out there somewhere."

"So we just leave?" Hellboy growls. He rested his hands on top of the van, and his stone one was beginning to dent the metal as he gripped it too tight.

"Yeah Red. We leave." Lydia sighs.

By now it was pouring out, and blowing like hell. Hellboy and Nuada had discarded their glamor pendants. Red was driving again down the deserted road back to town, groaning and muttering to himself. This didn't feel right at all. Someone had to save that poor girl.

Lydia was sitting in back talking on the phone with Manning about the situation. "She's in the wind! I don't know what we can do now." 

Nuada sat up front with Hellboy, arms crossed and watching out the window as the rain created rivers down glass. His stomach hadn't settled since he'd seen those chains on the closet floor. He couldn't understand why they'd keep their own niece locked away in such a fashion. Unless maybe she wasn't their niece...maybe some poor girl with a gift they'd kidnapped and abused?

He lets his head rest against the cold glass and he kept watching the scenery go by, dreading being back in the city. As he kept looking out his sharp vision seeing something moving along the road up ahead and he sits up straight again. Definitely a human but why were they walking along the road in this ungodly weather?

"Demon!" Nuada reaches out and grabbed Hellboy's arm, spooking him and making him swerve. 

"Fuck! What the hell is your problem?" Hellboy growls after slamming on the breaks.

"Look!" Nuada points out the window where the human had stopped walking and turned around. Nuada opened his door and looked out; a young woman with long hair being whipped and matted in the wind. She was shaking hard, only wearing a thin nightgown, hooded sweater that had soaked through, and boots.

"Nuada get back in the van." Lydia calls as she stepped out. "It's better if I talk to her first."

Nuada hesitated but eventually complied.

Lyida had slipped on her thick coat and she quickly walked to the poor shivering woman. As she got closer, Lydia could feel her heart wrenching and she knew without asking who this must be standing in front of her.

"Are you Rosemary Moore?" Lydia asks over the wind and rain as she stepped closer. The young woman was about the same age as she was but she seemed younger and smaller. She was thin...too thin…

"Please…" the woman's voice was hoarse. "Please don't take me to my aunt."

"I promise you that won't happen. You'll never have to see her again." Lydia says. 

"Who are you?" Rose shook out, looking Lydia up and down, glancing at the van.

"My name is Lydia Bellaire and I work with the BPRD." Lydia says as she gently took Rose by the arm. "You can't stay out here."

Rose swallowed hard as she followed Lydia to the van. She looks through the window and could see the driver. Big and red…

Lydia opens the van door and helps Rose into the backseat with her and noticed her staring at Hellboy.

Rose sat down shaking as she watched him. "Are...are you the Devil?" She softly asks. Hellboy chuckles softly as he shifted gears. 

"No but don't feel bad. People ask me that all the time."

#hellboy the golden army #hellboy #hellboy 2008 #hellboy 2 #nuadasilverlance #nuada #nuada silverlance #princess nuala #nuala #liz sherman #abe sapien #OC #lovestory #fanfiction

[cdreamie]

oc shit using these ocs uhhhh theyre not in the same order as pic + theyve kinda got lore shit all over the place but for personal ref! yeehaw

overlands people

skitchy rook - bisexual - he/him - trans - 23 - crimson - chaotic evil           > dating reiss, meltdowns

andrew “AK” rook - het - he/him - 14 - pink (unactivated) - lawful neutral          > moody angsty teen

eradon laii - gay - they/he - trans, demiboy - 24 - blood - neutral good          > blood mage/demon, meltdowns

starla doome - bisexual - she/her - 25 - green (unactivated) - chaotic neutral          > fyra’s sister figure

lyra melvich - aroace - she/he - bigender - 26 - gold - lawful good          > witch, cat lady

elliott juniva - bisexual - they/them - agender - 25 - crimson - neutral good          > temple “worshipper”/investigative journalist/photographer

maxima juniva - lesbian - she/her - 26 - crimson (unactivated) - chaotic neutral          > cursed to ocean temple, mermaid

jolly iriama - graysexual - they/them - genderfluid - 25 - crimson - true neutral          > lives in amusement park, cryptid, Lowkey Furry

“park” - lesbian - she/her - 24 - crimson - lawful neutral          > zombie

doc/cretin - gay - he/him - trans - 20 - purple (unactivated) - lawful evil           > dinosaur from millions of years ago + Human Amulet, time gang

william rads - bisexual - they/he - agender - 24 - irradiated magic - lawful good          > semi-zombie, patchwork skin, time gang, dating josh

joshua merit - gay - they/them - nonbinary man - 25 - pink - neutral evil          > amateur paleontologist, time gang, dating will

godly powers

venera sevet - pansexual - they/she - trans, demigirl - 27 - purple - lawful good          > godly power of restoration, engaged to bell

melliopi cara/”uhlys” - bisexual - he/him - 24 - purple - chaotic neutral          > godly power of essence, dating triage

eira miiris - gay - he/they - nonbinary male - 18 - purple - chaotic good          > godly power of light, partners with thorne

liis - lesbian - she/they - agender - ~6500 - blue - true neutral          > godly power of knowledge

yves trichton - bisexual - they/them - agender - 25 - lilac - lawful neutral          > (demi)godly power of fire

thomas trichton - gay - he/him - trans - 23 - lilac - lawful evil          > (demi)godly power of fire, dating juice

erois - bisexual - he/him - ~2500 - blue - chaotic neutral          > (former?) godly power of shapeshifting, time gang

torrent - lesbian - he/she - nonbinary - ~1200 - green - chaotic evil          > godly power of time manipulation, time gang

miles - bisexual - he/him  - trans - ~1600 - green - lawful neutral          > godly power of weather

The Light/ele - gay - they/them - nonbinary - ~8000 - blue - lawful good          > godly power of influence

mika ulvis - lesbian - she/they - trans, nonbinary - ~420 - gold - chaotic good          > godly power of consumption

voidlanders

“kronos” - aroace - he/him - 25 - voidlands purple - lawful neutral          > 1/4 monster, sharp teeth, extra eye on neck, digitigrade feet, meltdowns

reiss ravine - gay ace - he/they - trans - 24 - voidlands purple - neutral good          > ashed, fell into void, dating skitchy

“triage” - pansexual - they/them - agender - 24 - shadow/green - neutral evil          > assassin, pretty anti-godly power, dating melliopi

“juice” - pansexual - he/him - 22 - shadow/green/crimson - lawful neutral          > humble farmer. former demon, dating thomas

voidbeasts

thorne rook - demi - they/them - agender - 17/~6000 - void/sky/”crimson” - true neutral          > reincarnation of void, partners with eira

lydia - she/her - ~3500 - void/purple - lawful good          > salmon pink birdeater

henry - he/him - ~1200 - void/green - chaotic neutral          > bold jumping spider

eva(n) venoos - aroace - he/they/she - bigender - 24 - void/gold - chaotic neutral          > from 10-20 yrs ago, time gang, void corrupted

james ulvis - gay - he/him - 16 - void/crimson (unactivated) - lawful good          > rebirth of a voidbeast, dating lei

emil - they/he - nonbinary, male - ~2050 - void/gold - true neutral          > voidbeast in humanoid form on overlands

skybeings

mira exxus - they/them - nonbinary - 24 - blue magic - true neutral          > exxus is 1st name, has ocd, eats gemstones, dragon

oku lei - pansexual - he/him - trans - 17 - green magic - lawful evil          > considered royalty - magic more teal-ish, dating james

oku slush - bi ace - she/her - trans - 24 - purple magic - chaotic good          > crown heir

starlights

bell shell - lesbian - she/her - trans - 26 - elemental flame - chaotic good          > fire flower elemental, engaged to venera

fyra elwyn - pansexual - they/he/she - bigender - 19 - elemental lightning - chaotic good          > unaware of heritage at firt

michel elmor - lesbian - they/she - nonbinary - 26 - elemental wind - neutral good          > hypochrondriac, time gang

misc

executable - they/it - unspecified magic - chaotic neutral          > cursed magical video game child of melli + tri

cheep/talkovinq - they/she - demon chicken          > banished to form w/o memories or powers

max - he/him - cat familiar demon          > in form of calico cat

#riel.txt #oc #pseudopowers #rambles #prolly doesnt make sense to anyone but me but. Oh Well!

[kindabraveandlittlestupid]

Couples Costumes

So Halloween snuck up on me this year because it’s fucking tomorrow and I kinda forgot about it with all the things on the news. I had a handful of Halloween related posts that I wanted to post and while I managed to get a few done, the ones that require some photoshop work are still on my ‘To Do List’. Clearly, I went a little overboard with my post here posting 45 Halloween Costumes above (I am counting the classic Batman Costumes and the Wayne/Garth pics as just two costumes, so yes my math is sound).

I WAS planning to do a Velma/Shaggy or Salt/Snail costume with my S.O. but I am remarkably alone yet again, woe is me and my pity party. ^_^ Not being a downer, I promise. *Slaps Cheeks* Back on topic, Michael! You're rambling again. Yeah so here is a list of costumes. I might make another list next year but let's be honest the best couples costumes will be on this post. If you have your ideas/suggests I love to hear/see them in the notes.

Cartoons

Ash & Misty (Pokemon) - Kind of a classic costume these days as they are both iconic. Who wouldn't want to see their girlfriend in some jean shorts tiny yellow tank top? Misty can be switched out for sexy Pikachu.

Bob & Louise (Bob’s Burgers) - Lots of great characters in the show but none better than Bob and Louise (sorry Tina fans). This would be a fun outfit to host a party and cook burgers. Just a thought.

Birdman & Birdgirl (Harvey Birdman Attorney at Law) - Fun costume for Adult Swim lovers. I love for my girlfriend to do that inner monologue out in the open the way Birdgirl does. I could also switch Harvey out for Phil because “Ha Ha Naughty”. 

Max & Roxanne (Goofy Movie) - Simple costume with some paint on the nose and select clothes. I suspect only the 80′s thru 90′s kids would make the connection but the Z Generation has proved me wrong before.

Wanda & Cosmo (Fairly Oddparents) - Not my favorite costume set but one that would be fun if we had a kid who we were fairy godparents too.

Curious Georgia & Man in the Yellow Hat (Curious George) - This is all the excuse you need to jump on my back or my front or my bed. 

Alice & The White Rabbit (Alice in Wonderland) - Alice in Wonderland has lots of males to dress up as between the March Hare, White Rabbit, Mad Hatter and more. I am sure you girls like options.

Lilo & Stitch (Lilo & Stitch) - If I had four arms the sexy stuff we would do in bed but I don't sadly. However, I can make a great stitch voice not that a cartoon voice does much for you.

Jack Skellington & Sally (Nightmare Before Christmas) - I might be too broad shouldered for this sort of couples costume but if my partner is willing I am game. 

Mavis & Jonathan (Hotel Transylvania) - Mavis is perhaps a little to cute. I mean kind of a strange crush on a little vampire girl, so yeah I am not against someone cosplaying her for me.

Nick Wilde & Judy Hopps (Zootopia) - A little bit anthropomorphizing of Nick and Judy but they got good chemistry and so do we.

Spinelli & T.J. (Recess) - Not to take an innocent toon in a wrong direction but you know they probably smoked weed in high school together and T.J. convinces her to wear a dress for prom but no doubt still has her boots on. They make a cute couple to say the least.

Finn & Fionna (Adventure Time) - Heroes of Adventure Time! Sadly (not really sad about that) I am not blonde but we can always up on some 

Velma & Shaggy (Scooby Doo) - Yet another cartoon crush. I like a nerd and a little thick Velma.

Fred & Wilma (The Flintstones)  - Costumes are epic enough being basically caveman tunics. I can get behind this costume more if we had a Pebbles or Bam Bam to take out trick or treating.

Movies

Black Widow & Captain America (Avengers) - If I could afford it I would be Stark. If my hair was longer I would be Thor. Perhaps Hawkeye would be a better pairing. Regardless Black Widow is a woman among many men. This means you get your pick of which hero I dress up as.

Sam & Suzy (Sunrise Kingdom) - Kind of a hipster approach towards Halloween but sometimes being a nitch audience is ok.

Max & Furiosa (Mad Max) - If my girlfriend had a buzzed head, (for whatever reason that was) Mad Max would be an awesome costume to do together.

Mask & Tina Carlyle (The Mask) - I am a big Jim Carry fan so any excuse to dress up as his characters is a win. Camren Diaz was also smoking hot in this film.

Ash & Sheila (Army of Darkness) - Ash is pretty badass and the number 1 reason to dress as him is to have a chainsaw on your hand and double barrel shotgun on your back.

Dorthy & Scarecrow (Wizard of Oz) - I can also be a Tinman or Lion for your pleasure. That and you can be a green witch... no, I think prefer Dorthy.

Mary Poppins & Bert (Mary Poppins) - This costume would be so much better if I could sing or dance but I can't so I won't.

Aragorn & Arwen (Lord of the Rings) - If I find a woman into the Lord of the Rings (and Game of Thrones) she might be a keeper.

Harry Potter & Hermione Granger (Harry Potter) - Am I the only one who is upset Harry didn't hook up with Hermione? Am I the only one upset Emma Watson didn't hook up with me? Am I rambling? Should I shut up now?

Peter & Gamora (Guardians of the Galaxy) - Might easily be my favorite couple in the MCU. Gonna be a long night painting my girlfriend green.

Beetlejuice & Miss Argentina (Beetlejuice) - Again painting the girlfriend green and myself white! I suppose you could be Lydia and I can actually do a great impression of Michael Keaton's Beetlejuice.

Morticia & Gomez Addams (The Addams Family) - I would pay Thing if I could but sadly I can not disembody may hand and have it run around. I will have to settle for Gomez but your free to pick between Morticia or Wednesday. 

Wayne & Garth (Waynes World) - Playing to males? Meh sure. I loved this movie and I don't mind some cross-dressing for my partner. Just gonna be weird when Wayne makes out with Garth.

Shows

Burt Macklin & Janet Snakehole (Parks and Rec) - I am a special agent on a mission and your a wealthy widow with a secret. Only Parks and Recs fans will get this and that's just fucking great. Two rules though we don't break character and if I find a Johnny Karate, I must fight him.

Dexter Morgan & Hannah McKay (Dexter) - Might have been one of the hottest love scenes in a TV show ever. This costume works well with the plastic wrap and doubly fun to take it off you later.

Eleven & Mike (Stranger Things) - Pretty adorable couple on screen. Not sure about Season 2′s ‘rebel’ storyline in the city but still awesome all the same. I can't wait for season 3.

Batgirl/Catwoman & Batman (Batman Show) - I’m Batman. *Coughs* I mean I am dressed as Batman. The 1960′s Batman costume were simple but fun. Woman didnt look bad at all in their costumes either.

Daredevil & Electra (Daredevil) - I may keep it simple with the black mask and black shirt combo over the body armor. The good thing about those Marvel shows is the outfits are basic as hell.

William Riker & Deanna Troi (Star Trek) - Loved the TNG. Loved Star Trek. Can't go wrong with simple clothes and the Starfleet badge.

Comics/Video Games

Wonder Woman & Superman (DC Comics) - Open to interpretation about which Superman or Wonderwoman we are dressing up as. I have to admit the Wonder Woman movie costume was awesome. 

Batman & Catwoman (DC Comics) - Few romances have ever been so ‘Cat and Mouse’ or rather ‘Bat and Cat’ than that of Batman and Catwoman. The skin-tight body suit and whip make Catwoman all that much alluring. You can decide if you want to go TV show, Cartoon, Comics, Video Game or Movie versions of Selena Kyle.

Rogue & Gambit (Marvel Comics) - A man with deep love and a woman who can never be touched by him (at least skin to skin). This is some Shakespeare level tragedy for this lovely duo.

Spiderman & Black Cat (Marvel Comics) - What can I say its the costume on Black Cat... 

Link & Zelda (Legend of Zelda) - I am totally open to also as playing as Ganon if you want me to capture you and tie you down to the bed. 

Misc

Mimes - A whole day of not talking to one another and miming shit out?! Sounds horrible lets just talk in private when no one is looking.

Fireman & Dalmation Girl - Who’s a good girl? Who’s a good girl? You are! Yes you are!

Little Red & Big Bad Wolf - I won't lie 90% of the reason this costume works is that it leads to sexy time in the bedroom.

Waldo & Wanda - We go to Good Will, buy a bunch of random junk. Write Property of Waldo on it and leave it around the neighborhood all night long. We can set up a Waldo themed house so people can bring items back to us.

Snail & Salt Shaker - Oh ho ho am I clever? Probably not someone has been bound to make a costume like this before. I think it be fun for you to avoid me the whole part as I walk around as a Salt Shaker.

Frankenstein & Bride of Frankenstein - Classic movie costume and its really all about the hair for the bride. I can imagine this being a big hit with the kids and fun for a monster movie night.

Regards Michael California

#Halloween #Happy Halloween #All Hallows Eve #Couples Costumes #Relationships #Couples #Costumes

[musings-on-bucky-barnes]

Q & A with Owlet re: The Infinite Coffee & Protection Detail series

Along with many other people, one of my favourite Bucky Barnes fic series is The Infinite Coffee & Protection Detail. I was very happy when its author, Owlet @vmohlere kindly agreed to do the below Q&A with me about it, which is under a cut for length.

Q. How did This, You Protect come about?

1. After my third time seeing the movie [Captain America: The Winter Soldier], I thought it would be fun to write a one-shot about how obnoxious it would be to only partially remember and have to look after Steve.

2. "Oh great," says I, "I can practice writing humor."

3. Hundreds of thousands of words later: what even is my life.

 Q. From your comments as you were writing This, You Protect, you did not set out to write such a long fic or a series, but you kept having more ideas and tangents and loved writing Grumpy Bucky?

Accurate! It really did just take over my brain.

 Q. Now that the main stories in the series are done, after you have a well-earned rest and work on your other writing and poems, are any one shots likely in due course for the IC&PD?

Mmmmmmaaaaaaaybe. I have notes for a few, that take Steve & Barnes out to the end of their lives, but I hesitate to commit, because I need to focus on my original stuff for now.

 BUCKY BARNES:

Q. Coffee addict (did he like it in his old life?) and quick to get back to personal grooming (he was a metrosexual before it was popular).

In my mind, coffee: no – the Bucky-Person drank coffee for warmth & caffeine, but I do picture him as pretty dang vain, until his time under Zola’s “tender care” broke him.

 Q. What appealed to you about Bucky? What did you learn about him when writing this?

Initially, in Winter Soldier, I immediately latched onto this character who was set up to be remorseless & relentless, but who was confused in a way he didn’t understand by that *face*. In the fight on the helicarrier, you know his handlers would’ve been incensed by his hesitation, when he was obviously standing there thinking, “Okay, asshole: input me some data so I can determine just what kind of irritant you are.”

 Q. Where did you get the idea for the Mission and the Briefing?

You see the Briefing in Winter Soldier, in the memory flashes during the bank vault scene. Mission just erupted into my head out of this sense that there are parts of him HYDRA never tore down.

 Q. The climax of This, You Protect – when did you decide that sheep pants would help save the day?

It was one of those beautiful surprises that happen when you make stuff, and I cried all over my notebook.

 Q. Bucky’s recovery – a slow, realistic process with some setbacks, pain and humor: learning how to open up to others, to get used to physical contact again eventually, how he helps himself and lets others in, safe spots, good things list, reading, long baths, personal care, baking, sheep pants, coffee, helping others and much more.

There have been a couple of times when a really small thing has saved my life. Everyone’s small lifesaving thing is different. Barnes’s are PJs, baking, and concrete assistive actions.

 Q. What I love particularly about this Bucky is how others are drawn to him like Steve was as his true, kind self is able to start emerging again, and how his involvement with those people affects them in turn, like the Avengers interacting with each other in new ways (e.g. the ice cream tasting) and them getting to meet the Olds, which is beneficial all around.

People who don’t recognize how valued they are is a trope I never, ever, ever get tired of. We’re all stuck in our meat bodies, and we see all the messy bits in the inside (my best friend says, “Oh Virginia, you will never irritate anyone as much as you irritate yourself”), and we forget that there exist people who just LIKE us, and that that’s enough. I’ll be writing about that my whole life.

 STEVE:

Q. The readers find out in this series that Steve tends to cheat at card games and has been doing so for a long time. Is that because it was the only edge he had when he was sick and frail and tired of being underestimated & he can’t or doesn’t want to break the habit now?

Steve’s a snotball and a contrarian. In my head, he learned to cheat from the women in the Star-Spangled Man show, because they liked to fleece guys who were looking to get the women drunk & take advantage of them. So to him, it’s both a habit and a tool to annoy jerks. Also, he thinks it’s funny to be Captain America, Cheater At Cards. Because the one thing other than Bucky that has always been a constant in his life is people underestimating him/trying to define him by one thing (illness/size vs the costume & shield).

 Q. And why does he cheat against LYDIA (which is asking her to serve his ass to him on a platter!)? Does he have a death wish?

He recognizes a similar level of sarcasm in her and thinks it’s hilarious to try to fool her and then get walloped by her.

 Q. What things did you discover about Steve along the way?

The cheating at cards thing, which was a throwaway line in the first chapter where I referenced it and then grew in the back corner of my mind like a “volunteer tomato” in a compost heap until it became A Thing. Writing “Truth, Justice, and the Cheating Cheater Way” was SO fun.

It was important to me to give Steve a temper and a wide impetuous streak, which I felt both Avengers and Age of Ultron TOTALLY got wrong about him. Except that we pretend Age of Ultron doesn’t exist.

 Q. In A Chance to Try Bravery, we get to see Bucky and his behavior from Steve’s perspective, including that Bucky talks out loud to himself, seemingly without realizing he’s doing so. How often does Bucky do that, or does it vary/lessen as time goes on? And what things does Bucky ramble to Steve and others about when high on medication after the robot fight?

At the beginning, he talks to himself out loud a LOT. There are some hints about that in the text. Over time, that does lessen, except when he’s stressed, which makes him mutter pretty constantly.

Doped-up Barnes is verbally affectionate and has a little bit of the Bucky-person’s Brooklyn twang.

 TONY:

Look, I HATE what Civil War did to Tony. There is too much in Barnes’s history for Tony to IDENTIFY with. Tony's arc in Iron Man - capture, body modification, his tech being stolen for nefarious use - has similar touch points to Barnes's story.

Also, for pity’s sake, do we believe for one second that Pepper didn’t make him go to therapy? We do not.

 PEPPER:

I am not a Gwyneth Paltrow fan, so it surprised the hell out of me how much affection I developed for Pepper approximately 5 words after she popped up in This, You Protect. I just loved writing her, because she’s so dang together and sensible.

 MARIA:

It just made me cackle to set her up as the Alpha Badass. I love her.

 SAM:

I’m not going to go back and rewrite, but if I did, I would put in more Sam. Sam’s IMPORTANT. He’s the voice of Real People who go through similar crap to Steve & Barnes and have to deal with it all using Real People methods. He’s what it looks like when you make it to the other side of the wringer – his compassion is deep and wide, but he’s not a martyr and his energy isn’t endless.

 NATASHA:

I feel like there’s a heft to Natasha that I don’t even know about in my own fictional universe. She’s like Sam – a picture of what it looks like to Survive Some Shit, with more broken-off edges than Sam has. She carries a lot of burdens that she’ll never tell anyone about.

 CLINT:

Truly a poetry nerd.

 JARVIS:

The helpful busybody (from better surveillance equipment, to books and lubricants!)

I really enjoyed writing JARVIS, because it was cool to think about a being that was omnipresent and largely non-judgmental. I felt like I had to be careful not to use JARVIS too much or it’d turn out to be a deus ex machina.

 CAT ELEANOR:

My own personal Cat Eleanor, who was similarly judgy and protective, was a grey tabby named Boadicea (Boadie) whom I collected as a very ill stray kitten and who lived with me for 13 years. She liked to eat her dinner from a plate on the table and was a terrible stealer of French fries.

Sidebar: I still have her ashes in a bag in my sock drawer, because what the heck am I supposed to do with them?

 THOR:

Thor’s compassion & wisdom caught me off guard every time he showed up, even though I was *trying* to remember that he’s powerful and practically immortal. But he outdid my ideas for him.

 THE OLDS:

I guess in some parallel universe that I’m channeling, they must be real people, because they popped fully formed into my head like a trio of hilarious Athenas. Esther has a couple of great-nieces on the West Coast, and Ollie has a few distant step-ish younger relatives from his de facto late husband’s side of the family. Functionally, they are each other’s family.

 THE CARP, TOSHIRO HAYASHI AND KAZUE:

Based in part on Sushi Gin in Lawrence, Kansas, where I once had a delicious and fun solo meal at the sushi bar, and Masa’s Sushi and Robata Bar in Spring, Texas, whose nabeyaki udon I’m crazy for.

 THE COFFEE BAR AND KATIE:

I mentioned her briefly in Team-Building Exercises as if she were important, so then I had to create her for The Long Road Begins at Home. She was a bit of a conundrum until I thought of making her one of the victims of the Chitauri attack.

 THE ANTI-VALENTINE’S NO TOUCH CLUB

Q. What were its origins?

Honestly I just wanted to write more Hill, because I surprised myself with how much I liked writing her, and I knew she’d hate Valentine’s Day as much as Barnes. From there, it was a matter of thinking who else would hate it and then add Steve, because of all his “whither thou goest” vibe.

 Q. How do you picture the next Valentine’s Day meeting of that club, since two of the members are now bonking each other every chance they get?

That’s not until the NEXT year. And they spend the whole time very purposely not touching one another until they’re cross-eyed and jump each other in the elevator. Hill grumps at them a lot.

 THE HAIR CLUB:

It was important to me that the women of the Tower be one another’s support group in the midst of all that testosterone. One of the things that I enjoyed about writing Team-Building Exercises was that it was vignettes that appeared out of thin air without any explanation.

… That being said, it made sense to me that the women’s sense of ease with one another would draw Barnes in just like Esther did. He has no idea how much he lurked and stared at them before they invited him over. Once she Got It, Pepper’s natural caretaker tendencies kicked in, and Barnes was in. Pepper is a Fixer.

 Q. Present tense isn’t often used all the way through a long fic. I think the only time I’ve used it in a fic was when I gave the POV character amnesia, and present tense felt right, as he was in the current moment and it was all he had, with no memories to fall back on. But you used it so well that it suits and isn’t jarring. What led you to decide on present tense?

There’s no other option for that character, in my mind. Barnes experiences everything with almost complete immediacy, and present tense was the only way to convey that.

 Q. Are Bucky and Steve likely to get their own cat at some stage?

Yes.

 Q. YES!!!! Do you have a name in mind for it? And does it love Bucky more than it loves Steve?

I don't want to say anything more about their cat, in case I write that part!

 Q. When will the public find out about Bucky being alive, and when will they find out about Bucky and Steve being together?

I have no head canons for these questions. Miracle on Park Avenue is not part of Infinite Coffee, though.

 Q. It was interesting that you released Steve and Bucky getting together in Advanced Happiness Skills before you did The Long Road Begins at Home fic. Did the muse direct you to write and release it early?

I tried really hard not to write Long Road – I knew it would eat up acres of time, and I wanted to be done after Advanced Happiness. But it got to the point that I had to write notes or have my head explode, and eventually I had so many dang notes that I figured I’d better type the damn things up.

 Q. So, you actually started writing Team-Building Exercises as a standalone instead of as a teaser for The Long Road Begins at Home?

Yes, I really didn't intend to go any farther than that.

 Q. And at what point in the series did you realize that it would become Stucky?

Oh gosh, I guess it was always in the background, from the early chapters of This, You Protect. But it was a long time before I thought I’d actually write that part.

 Q. Did anything change due to fan comments? What went off in directions that you hadn’t planned on in the plotting stage? What things got left out?

There’s a funny bit about Barnes freaking that Steve will drown in the reflecting pool in the National Mall, until he discovers that it’s only about 18 inches deep.

There was one small detail that I put in because of a fan comment, but I’m sorry to say that I can’t remember what it was.

“Planned on in the plotting stage” … uh.

Um.

Er.

I wrote this whole thing by the seat of my pants.

 Q. It can be fun and fraught to do a series, as there is a lot to juggle and things to seed in to set up plots and developments for further down the track. How did you keep tabs on what needed to happen when?

Gotta be magic. I mean, I held the whole thing in my head for years and could see it as clear as day. It crowded out many other things.

 Q. What is your writing process like, or was it different for this series?

I write and tinker almost daily, but I’ve found that my best pieces tend to be the ones that build up like pressure in my head and fall out all at once. My Star Wars fic, Generational Mistakes, is over 17,000 words that literally came out all at one time, starting around 1:00 am, when it woke me up. I had to take the day off work, and by the time I had the whole draft out on paper (hand written!), I was literally crying from the pain in my hand.

That’s an extreme example, of course, usually it’s more like the beginning of a thing blooms, and sections build up until they attain enough gravity to ooze out in blobs. I generally have to start out writing by hand until I pick up some inertia and can switch to typing, though I also do a lot of editing in the first typing pass if a whole piece is hand-written.

I write very badly to self-imposed deadlines and very well to feeling like I Owe Someone, so the reader comments really propelled me along throughout the whole series.

 Q. The fics have really shown the therapeutic power of cooking, as well as different recipes, especially in the comments section.

There is not enough I can say about the comments section. It took on a life of its own in a way that I would not even have imagined – not just the screaming and the recipes, which were great, but the way people jumped in to comfort and support one another. It is really beautiful, and I’m beyond grateful, and so proud of all of them and to be a part of them.

I’m sincerely humbled by and thankful to all the comments, but especially those from people who found comforting or useful bits in Barnes’s recovery. Even if this one life isn’t the only one we get, it’s the only one we *remember*, and damaging shit is a pure fact of existence. To have provided material help to even one suffering person (much less the dozens of who’ve reached out) makes a strong place in my own heart. I have a concrete thing that I can look at with my own eyeballs and say for real and for sure that I Did Well and I Helped. That gives a human life ballast. It’s an honor.

I started Long Road at a time when I was feeling super demoralized about my original works, and the life it made for itself in fandom still just knocks me over. If y’all were going to have that much faith in me, I figure I’d better lift up my head and have faith in myself. Thank you for that.

xXx

Thank you very much to Owlet for putting up with all of my questions, and if at some stage down the road she is willing to do another one, I already have some questions written down for it!

This Q&A will also be available on Owlet’s AO3 page.

#infinite coffee and protection detail #fic #q&a #owlet #bucky barnes #fanfic #my posts #author q&a

[voidsouralphas]

I posted 877 times in 2021

37 posts created (4%)

840 posts reblogged (96%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 22.7 posts.

I added 620 tags in 2021

#teen wolf - 161 posts

#stiles stilinski - 80 posts

#taylor swift - 71 posts

#marvel - 55 posts

#allison argent - 51 posts

#hp - 49 posts

#mcu - 49 posts

#lydia martin - 41 posts

#tfatws - 32 posts

#derek hale - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 100 characters

#for anyone that is located where the other bakery supplies the cookies those are the caramel delites

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER

11 notes • Posted 2021-04-23 07:51:44 GMT

#4

Top 5: Teen Wolf characters :)

1. Stiles Stilinski

2. Lydia Martin

3. Allison Argent

4. Scott McCall

5. Derek Hale

honorable mention: Sheriff Stilinski

feel free to send asks!! <3

13 notes • Posted 2021-01-26 03:48:17 GMT

#3

this is for @assbutt-still-in-hell. original allison vs. my face. my argument that i look like her? valid :))

20 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 00:21:07 GMT

#2

yeah baby i got the first dose of the vaccine am i desirable yet

24 notes • Posted 2021-04-09 23:29:09 GMT

#1

personality-based info

Zodiac Sign: Aries | Taurus | Gemini | Cancer | Leo | Virgo | Libra | Scorpio | Sagittarius | Capricorn | Aquarius | Pisces |

Myers-Briggs: ESFP | ISFP | ESTP | ISTP | ESTJ | ISTJ | ESFJ | ISFJ | ENFJ | INFJ | ENFP | INFP | ENTP | INTP | ENTJ | INTJ |

Life Path Number: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 11 | 22 | 33

Four Temperaments: Sanguine | Melancholic | Choleric | Phlegmatic

Enneagram: The Reformer (Type 1) | The Helper (Type 2) | The Achiever (Type 3) | The Individualist (Type 4) | The Thinker (Type 5) | The Loyalist (Type 6) | The Enthusiast (Type 7) | The Leader (Type 8) | The Peacemaker (Type 9) |

Celtic Zodiac: Birch (The Achiever) | Rowan (The Thinker) | Ash (The Enchanter) | Alder (The Trailblazer) | Willow (The Observer) | Hawthrone (The Illusionist) | Oak (The Stabilizer) | Holly (The Ruler) | Hazel (The Knower) | Vine (The Equalizer) | Ivy (The Survivor) | Reed (The Inquisitor) | Elder (The Seeker) |

Celtic Animal Sign: Stag/Deer | Cat | Cow/Bull | Horse | Butterfly | Adder/Snake | Seahorse | Fish/Salmon | Wolf/Hound | Fox | Wren | Swan | Falcon/Hawk |

Soul Type (one test): I’m too lazy to take this test I Hunter | Caregiver | Creator | Thinker | Helper | Educator | Performer | Leader | Spiritualist |

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor | Hufflepuff | Ravenclaw | Slytherin |

The Animal in You: Lion | Tiger | Dolphin| Bear | Wild Cat | Fox | Weasel | Badger | Dog | Otter | Wolf | Sea Lion | Wild Dog | Walrus | Gorilla | Deer | Rhinoceros | Hippo | Sable | Horse | Sheep | Mountain Goat | Warthog | Zebra | Baboon | Elephant | Bison | Giraffe | Cottontail | Mole | Bat | Porcupine | Beaver | Prairie Dog | Shrew | Mouse | Eagle | Rooster | Owl | Swan | Peacock | Vulture | Penguin | Crocodile | Snake |

Archetypes: Creative | Athlete | Rebel | Caregiver | Visionary | Royal | Performer | Spiritual | Tastemaker | Explorer | Advocate | Intellectual |

Brain Lateralisation Test: Left | Right |

Cerebral Personality Test: 1-10% | 11-20% | 21-30% | 31-40% |41-50% | 51-60% | 61-70% | 71-80% | 81-90% | 91-100% |

Multiple Intelligences Test: Kinaesthetic | Linguistic | Logical | Interpersonal | Intrapersonal | Musical | Visual/Spatial | Naturalistic |

Levenson Self-Report Psychopathy Scale (Primary Psychopathy): 1 | 1.5 | 2 | 2.5 | 3 | 3.5 | 4 | 4.5 | 5

33 notes • Posted 2021-01-12 08:09:55 GMT

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#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[thecitrinefox]

Well it’s no sexy Marie Curie but...

(sterekweek day 3, meet cute with a side of halloween and scenestealer I guess, since it’s inspired by a buffy episode. 2.7k, brief language. also imagine stiles’ outfit like hoechin’s from everybody wants some, basically)

Derek is pissed.

“Somebody has to go check on the Nemeton, Derek. Don’t worry Beacon Hills has been quiet lately anyways, Derek,” Derek snarks as he stomps to his car. “No self respecting supernatural creature would start shit on Halloween anyways, Derek. What bullshit.”

The thing is, Derek loves Halloween. Usually. He has a not so secret sweet tooth and an excuse to eat all the candy he likes. He can let his fangs drop and flash his eyes all night and all anyone does is ask where he got his special contact lenses. He can be truly himself and not get treated like a freak, and he loves it. The problem is that even though the Hales moved out of Beacon Hills years ago after Kate Argent had burned their house down, they’re still responsible for the territory. Which means checking in on the dreaded Nemeton every so often, to make sure it hasn’t awoken, and also see if any unauthorized supernatural nasties have moved in while they weren’t looking. This year, Derek drew the short straw, and this year his mom had insisted he do the Beacon Hills check-in on Halloween.

Things had been going okay for most of the day. Derek had run the town’s perimeter in the morning and smelled nothing out of the ordinary, even in the preserve. He’d visited the Nemeton, and there had been a few leaves sprouting out of it, which he’d thought was a bit odd, but he didn’t feel anything unusual from it when he’d pressed his hand to its trunk, so he’d just snapped a few pics with his phone and texted them to his mother and moved on. He’d spent the afternoon criss-crossing the town proper. He’d driven past the high school, walked around downtown. He ate lunch at the local diner that he was pleased to see was still there, and grinned at kids of varying ages he’d started to see out and about in costumes. He forced himself to go stop by the old Hale House, and it’d been sad to see the house he’d grown up in in ashes, but even that wasn’t enough to ruin his day.

When the sun has gone down and Halloween revelers start showing up around town he lets himself shift. Not fully, just fangs and eyes. He’d discovered if he does a full beta shift people have a tendency to just reach out and touch his face, wanting to feel the ‘prosthetics’, and considering the amount of people who squeeze his biceps or pat his chest without permission these days he doesn’t like giving them extra reason to touch. But it feels good to let his eyes glow and let his fangs out as he goes about his evening and have nobody even bat an eye. He hands some candy out to kids as he passes them, even scares a couple by letting his beta shift through, although their heartbeats tell him they’re more thrilled by the change than actually terrified, and he’s heading back to his car trying to decide if he wants to do one last sweep of the town or just drive back to the new Hale estate early when things change.

It’s nine pm on the dot when a breeze rolls through the town and Derek feels all of his hair stand on end. If he wasn’t partially shifted already he thinks he would have done so automatically and he stops in the middle of the sidewalk, looking around. He doesn’t see anything at first, just trick or treaters walking around, some older kids and adults in costumes clearly headed to or from parties, but then suddenly it seems like the crowds start getting a little chaotic.

At first Derek thinks maybe people are getting rowdier now that it’s later. There aren’t so many little kids out and about anymore and people have probably started drinking, but then he notices people are acting...odd. A guy dressed in a pirate costume talking like a pirate to him is regular Halloween behavior. A woman covered in what looks and smells like real cat fur with real cat ears running past him on all fours is weird, but it could be weirder, Derek guesses. But then he sees a couple people up ahead dressed as a Waterbender and a Firebender, and they seem to actually be manipulating water and fire in the air between their hands, no practical tricks as far as Derek can see, hear or smell, and well, it’s beginning to feel like something is truly up. But it’s when a girl dressed up as Supergirl literally flies by overhead that Derek begins to panic a little.

It’s a spell, it must be, he thinks, as he hurries back to his car, muttering to himself irritably and cursing his mom for picking him this year. People seem to universally be turning into their costumes, and the firefighters he passed were clearly harmless, he can’t resist a shudder when he sees an actual Minion run down the street. Derek gets into his car and carefully maneuvers down the street, trying to avoid hitting any confused pedestrians. He thinks about calling his Alpha, but his mom will want to come down, and if it’s something he can fix on his own, he thinks he should. Laura already teases him enough for constantly checking in with Talia about decisions he makes. He’ll start with the Nemeton, he decides, turning off main street and heading towards the Preserve.

He almost misses it when he’s just turned around a curve and a college aged guy in short shorts and a crop top darts out into the road, the reflectors on his blue and orange striped running shoes giving Derek just enough of a warning to slam on the brakes.

“Hey, I’m walking here,” the guy shouts, flipping Derek off.

“Well maybe you should walk somewhere that’s not right in front of a speeding car,” Derek shouts back at him out the window.

“Jackass,” the kid mutters under his breath, probably unaware Derek can hear him. The guy keeps walking across the street, then stops dead, turning back towards Derek’s car.

“Wait, you can see me?” the guy asks incredulously.

“Uh, yeah,” Derek scoffs.

“Damn, finally,” the guy says. “I wonder if it’s a werewolf thing.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Derek says, jerking back. He forces himself not to shift fully human. It’s supposed to be a costume, he reminds himself.

“Being able to see me,” the guy clarifies. He reaches out, and Derek can’t duck back fast enough before the guy’s hand is waving right through his face. It feels strange, although weirdly it feels slightly warm, not cold like he might’ve anticipated. “I’m a fucking ghost, and you’re the first person to be able to see me all night.”

“I can’t normally see ghosts,” Derek says.

“Well I’m not a real ghost,” the guy says, rolling his eyes. “I was wearing a ghost costume so…”

“You turned into what you were wearing, just like everyone else,” Derek finishes. He eyes the guy’s clothing somewhat dubiously. Up close there is a lot of pale skin on display, dotted with beauty marks, the guy’s arms and stomach practically glowing in the moonlight. “Sorry, what kind of ghost are you supposed to be?”

“How about you pull over into a parking spot before someone gets mad at you for clogging up the road,” the guy says, gesturing toward a spot just up the street. “Also I know he won’t be able to see me but I half feel like my dad is about to show up in his cruiser and bust me for solicitation dressed like this and leaning in your car window.”

“What,” Derek says dumbly.

“My dad’s the Sheriff,” the guy says. “Thankfully he was just wearing his uniform tonight. I stopped by the station to check, so it seems like he and all his deputies are all still just cops. Go on, go park, I’ll follow you.”

Derek doesn’t have any better idea, so he pulls up into one of the metered spots ahead, turning the Camaro off and getting out of it. The guy jogs up behind him, and very carefully leans against Derek’s car next to him, seeming very pleased with himself when he doesn’t just fall through it. He’s got soft brown hair, and an upturned nose and Derek doesn’t know what’s more obscene, the outfit he’s wearing or the way he licks his pouty lips nervously.

“It was kind of a dare,” the guy says, looking vaguely embarrassed, gesturing down towards his outfit. “I accidentally got suckered into a conversation with my friend Lydia about ‘sexy’ Halloween costumes and gender equality. Anyways long story short, I briefly blacked out and agreed to wear something as revealing as whatever Lydia was planning on wearing in the name of feminism. Lydia gave me this, like, seventies exercise outfit including booty shorts, a crop top and knee high socks, and I was like ‘hell yeah’, but then when I put it on I panicked, and cut some eye holes in sheet and put that over my costume, because being a ghost is way less terrifyingly revealing, and uh, ta da. Now I’m a slutty ghost from the seventies. Not that being slutty is a bad thing, as Lydia would probably say. God, she’s out there somewhere dressed as sexy Marie Curie, I wonder what that’s like. I’m Stiles by the way. Stilinski. I’d shake your hand but well...”

“Right,” Derek says, feeling overwhelmed.

“Anyways, you’re like, a real werewolf, right,” Stiles says. “It doesn’t just look like you turned into a werewolf costume’s idea of werewolf, those eyes are the real deal. Oh shit, you’re a Hale. Too gorgeous to exist, dark hair, sexy car, you’re here on one of your family’s semi-annual ‘I’m sure Beacon Hills is fine without us’ trips.”

“Who are you?” Derek asks.

“I’m Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles says, slowly and looking at Derek like he might be dumb. “I told you like a minute ago. The Sheriff’s son?”

“I know that much, yes,” Derek says. “But how do you know this stuff?”

“Dude, you think things in Beacon Hills have just been naturally quiet for the past few years? Beacon Hills? I mean, you did grow up here, right, you remember what that was like? You think having less peace-keeping werewolves about just magically made the town less nuts?” Stiles scoffs. “Look, things were maybe semi-normal for a year or two after the Hales booked it, after that hunter tried to fry you guys, but then word got around that Beacon Hills was up for grabs and things went sideways. You guys weren’t around and so the rest of us had to get with it real quick to keep Beacon Hills from getting completely overrun.”

“Who’s the ‘rest of us’ and why didn’t anybody contact my family if you knew what we were and things were happening here?” Derek asks.

“Um, I mean it took me a while to figure out you guys were werewolves, and honestly we weren’t exactly sure how your mom, the uh, Alpha right, would react to what was going on,” Stiles says, scratching at his chin nervously. There are beauty marks on the side of his face and down his long slender neck as well and Derek can’t help but stare. “I’m a spark, my friend Scott got bit by this total asshole Alpha, so he’s a werewolf. Lydia is a banshee...hey do you think she screamed when I ‘died’ tonight?”

“How did we not know about any of this?” Derek asks.

“Well we’ve had things pretty well under control for a while now,” Stiles says. “And my dad put an APB out on your whole family, so generally we lie low when any Hales roll into town. Like I said, we know it’s technically your territory so we were a little worried you guys might try to kick our merry band of misfit supernaturals out if you knew what we were up to. I think your uncle Peter knows, but he’s kind of an asshole, so I’m not surprised he didn’t tell your mom.”

“Jesus,” Derek mutters. He’s trying to wrap his brain around the revelations of the night, but honestly he can freak out about it later, they have a more immediate problem on hand. “So do you have any idea what’s going on tonight? Halloween is traditionally pretty quiet, supernatural-wise.”

“Oh, that ummmmmmmm,” Stiles says sheepishly. “So a couple of months ago I may have pissed off this witch? A little? I tend not to notice when people are hitting on me, and I may have been a little rude about her behavior because I thought she was trying to get some kind of magical favor out of me.”

“Stiles,” Derek huffs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“To be fair though, the last couple spells she threw at us weren’t exactly harmful,” Stiles says. “It’s more along the lines of pranks than anything, so I’m guessing while it’s kinda weird everyone has turned into their costumes, I don’t think anyone will get hurt as a result of it. It’ll probably wear off by midnight. Like we could try to find her and make her reverse it, but by the time we do it’ll probably all be over anyways.”

“Well I guess it’s true I haven’t seen anyone get hurt or heard any real screaming,” Derek admits. Stiles raises an eyebrow smugly and Derek just rolls his eyes in response. “Okay I’ll let it drop, but one scent of blood and we’re tracking down that witch. And tomorrow you’ll make nice with her so this doesn’t happen again.”

“Deal,” Stiles says. “So I suppose that means you’ll be leaving Beacon Hills again?”

“I was only supposed to be here for a day,” Derek says. “But at the very least I should stick around long enough to meet the rest of your pack, and make sure things get settled with that witch.”

“Yeah and we have a few hours to kill before the spell probably ends,” Stiles says with a grin. “I’d invite you to my favorite burger joint for some boozy milkshakes but god only knows what the waitstaff was dressed up as, better not risk it. And it’s not like I could drink it right now anyways.”

“We may not have a house here any more but we still have a pretty nice loft downtown,” Derek says. “It’s stocked with a decent bar, if you’re really after a drink and willing to wait for it.”

“Why Mr Hale,” Stiles says, stretching one arm behind his head as he leans back against Derek’s car. “Are you inviting me home with you?”

“If that’s something you’d be interested in,” Derek says. He lets his gaze wander up Stiles’ bare legs, pausing heatedly at the wide swathe of bare skin between his shorts and the crop top above it, dark hair leading from Stiles’ bellybutton down under his waistband. Movement catches Derek’s eye and he looks up in time to see Stiles slowly lick his lips, a blush crossing his face.

“I suppose spending some time at your place wouldn’t be so bad, if I have to wait a few more hours until I can...touch things again,” Stiles says finally. “Let’s go.”

It’s merely the logistics of Stiles being unable to open the door himself that has Derek darting over to open the passenger side door of his camaro for Stiles, but Stiles still smirks at him anyways. He slips past Derek, their faces only inches away, and it’s some kind of torture, Derek thinks to be this close and literally unable to bridge the distance and just touch Stiles, but he closes the car door behind Stiles and gets into the driver’s seat to drive them both over to the loft. A few hours, he thinks, trying to ignore how Stiles is luxuriously sprawled out in the seat beside him. Stiles is smirking. Of course he is.

When he hits a red light, Derek quickly pulls his phone out and shoots a quick text to his mother.

Need to follow up on a few things here in BH.

May be here a while.

#sterekweek2017 #sterekmeetcute #my fic #sterekweek day 3 #derekstiles #sterek