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#tw slight flashing images
oleander-scribbles · 6 months
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gif set because i couldn't decide which i liked better
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shittyjunedaiiy · 2 years
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Can June steal Dave's sunglasses
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FLASH WARNING (?) PLEASE ADVICE W/CAU7iON
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A thingie inspired by @spideygal 's Mr Small multiverse, OG! and Suppressed Fun!Mr Smalls in particular-- (contains very slight spoilers to the fanfic)
So! Originally I thought that SF! would be extremely jealous of OG! because they grew up the same, and yet HE gets to be himself and doesn't (seem to) have an identity crisis, while SF! ... well, suppresses himself
BUT. When THIS POST appeared on my dash, it kinda stabbed me in the gut ngl. Obv they wouldn't rlly be friends, and if they were it'd take. SO MUCH TIME. But the comparison? Oof. The pain
On the bright side, it helped me out w/ the ending cuz I don't think an event like this would ever play out in the real Multiverse. SF! seems really timid and the outburst happened when he got pressed (by his standarts), so unless OG! annoyed/pressed him before, he wouldn't attack
And yes, that's the one and only Mrs Bitch at the end
(Audio) (Edited in Videoleap)
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keebwee · 2 years
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I don't know anything about mr undertaker but I think he does nfts so i am not supporting him by making this video
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dilfartist · 11 months
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Missed - short (pt.2)
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Pairing; Yandere Las Plagas Leon Kennedy x reader
Synopsis; it’s the week after Leon’s attack and the scientists examining and aiding Leon, need your assistance.
Reader description; Female/GN
Word count; 1k
TW; Dead dove do not eat, non-con, there isn’t really a smut scene, depends on how you interpret it, nonconsensual touching, messed up shit, ooc Leon. NSFW. Also tagged everyone who wanted to be tagged but its acting weird so few may not be notified.
!Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!
Nothing seems real to you anymore.
Your boyfriend working for the government was more than enough news to handle, but Leon obtaining some parasite, becoming one himself understandably tended to hurt your head.
After last week's events, you come by daily. While they did request this of you, you would have done it anyways.
Every day you wake then drive straight to the facility holding him; never missing a day. And with each passing day, he grows worse. His body changed, sprouting more veins than the last time you saw him. He looks lifeless. His baby blue eyes are now a piercing ruby color, that stare into your soul.
Leon as a person has altered. He’s more touchy, touching you anytime he can. Leon doesn’t care for your opinion, or consent on the matter. Not anymore. Aggression is a main part of his personality now. While Leon was rarely aggressive with you, it still terrified you to see him throw a tantrum and nearly rip out a security guard’s throat because you wanted to leave early.
His presence alone has grown suffocating. And You’re starting to get uncomfortable just being around him.
And the experimenters monitoring Leon aren't helping. They only ever approve of you around to gather intel. Sometimes they’ll guilt you into staying in his enclosure, observing his actions on the other side of a double mirror. Other times they’d full-on pay you to spend five or more hours with Leon. Of course, you’d have no issues if Leon acted like his old self. But that was the issue. He wasn't himself anymore.
It’s currently two o’clock and you’re attending Leon’s daily visits.
“We have one more experiment we’d like to run on Leon, but we need your help to explore what we’d like to explore.”
You nod, observing Leon from the other side of the double mirror. Leon sits crisscrossed next to a large television watching MTV mindlessly, gnawing on a slice of pizza. Leon sports grey sweatpants and a slight sauce messy white tee.
You turn your head finally providing your attention to the scientist beside you, “What is it?” you questioned.
She fixed her glasses to look down at her clipboard, “Well, Leon has been very emotional lately. We’d appreciate it if you’d go inside and just talk with him.”
You lift an eyebrow looking at her septically, “Is that all?”
She nods. “Yes, that is all. You know he only communicates with you.”
“Alright then.”
You enter Leon’s isolation when the door slides open. Leon’s room contained paper-white walls, an extensive mirror, both a couch and bed on opposite sides of each other, a television, and a bathroom area. It felt like a zoo enclosure.
Leon took a minute to glance your way. He was too captivated by the flashing images on the television. Wanting to get the interaction over with, you called out for him. “Leon.”
Leon’s eyes darted in your direction. “(Name)!” he jumped up, jogging over to you. He hugged you tightly, running kisses up and down your neck. You're frozen in an awkward position, “Hey, missed you too, Lee.”
Leon ceases his kissing, pulling away from your neck to look you in the eyes. “Been wondering when’s the next time you’d visit.”
You chuckle, “I visit every day, Leon.”
“It feels like an eternity when you're not around.”
Leon and you lay on the couch, Leon resting his head on top of your chest. You held him close, staring at the ceiling. For abeat there was a pregnant silence, the both of you focusing on each other’s company. Then Leon spoke. Leon asked about your life: how was work? Was anything new happing? Any recent drama. He yearned for a bit of normalcy. Wanted to forget about Spain. Just wanted his main reflections on you.
Since Leon’s trip nothing was the same, not for him. Not for you. While, yes, his normal life ended after the raccoon city incident, he managed to somehow have a- what would you call it? Semi-normal life. Living with you at least.
But now it was gone. The las plazas had terminated any chance of normality for Leon. And if by chance the government’s scientists somehow cured Leon of his parasite, he’d still be left with the side effects of retaining the Las plagas for as long as he did.
Leon’s body had changed in such drastic ways. And his main concern was the upsurge in his libido.
Hours and hours he’d fist his cock, mulling on the times you’ve sucked his cock. No matter how hard, how fast, or even the time spent he couldn't stop. It hurt too much if he did. The other day the pain didn't go away until he fainted from exhaustion. He needed you. He needed to stuff you so bad it physically pained him.
His mind was barraged with thoughts of breeding your sweet pussy. Leon wasn’t the idea of having kids with you, honestly, it thought about a lot. However, this was different. It was an obsession now. Thoughts on breeding you made him cum so quickly, it became his number one fantasy.
Laying here listening to your rambling on the next-door neighbor's fight last night, his nose picks up an ambrosial smell originating from you. You smell sweet. Oh so, so, so sweet.
Leon’s ears ring, deafening him. His eyes focus on your clothed thighs. How he missed the plush skin he used to lay on after a hard week of work. More than that, he missed planting kisses on them; earing drawled out moans of his name.
Almost like an instinct, Leon’s rough, calloused, hands griped your hips. You halt and looked down at him with curiousness. Uncertain of his next actions, you press your hands against him. Worriedly you utter his name, “Leon?”
Leon refuses to acknowledge the call of his name. His main priority being his cock beginning to stiffen in his sweats.
You swallow nervously, endeavoring to pry his hands off. “Leon, please take your hands off me.” you plead in a stern manner, to come off more as a command.
Leon shakes his head. “No,” he responded, voice trembling. “You have no idea how much I need you, (Name). It's torture not having you stroke me.” he nearly moans at the last part. He climbs up the couch to be face to face.
Leon’s eyes held an immense dose of desire as he looks at you through his eyelashes. “Please touch me, baby,” he whines. “Want ‘ya so bad!” he grips your hand, placing it near your mouth to plant a kiss.
You glance at the mirror, silently pleading for assistance. Comprehending Leon’s increase in strength, kicking him off wouldn't be an option since his grip on you tautened. “Leon, stop!”
Quickly you thought of a method of escape. You acted, moving to the side for your body to decline to the ground. Both you and Leon fell to the ground, dragging cushions with you. Immediately you are on your feet, dashing to the door. You slam your fist against the metal, bruising them in the process. You could care less. Your shouting so loud your throat starts to sting. Yet there’s no reply.
You know there are people out there! You saw at least five before entering.
Then a thought comes to mind. Did they plan this?
Leon yanks you out of your shock, slamming his body against yours. Your nose whacks against the metal, prompting a whine of pain. Akin to a vampire, Leon laches on your neck, trailing kisses up and down. He sucks, bites, and drags his tongue over the marks as his hand travels down the slit in your pants.
“Sorry, baby, can’t deny myself any longer!” he apologizes, surprisingly genuinely. You accept your fate, sobbing silently to yourself.
On the opposite side of the mirror, a group of scientists observe the interaction. They all have their clipboards out, noting down every action, movent, and emotion. A Handful of them watches in revulsion while the scene unfolds in front of them. Others treat it as any other experiment, having no sympathy for you. After all, they have no idea if you’re the worst person in existence or not.
There's one thing for certain. They’d be investigating the pregnancy of a human mother and a parasite having father.
Tagged
@fbiopenups , @athanasia-day , @leonskndy , @ineedrealfriends , @destinys-dreamer, @carlosluv3r, @connorsoddsock, @sl33paholics , @explosiongamora , @idiotuvu-blog , @tarcroach, @mikeywaysghost, @jinna-aka-ninja , @lovelysserafim, @jujupia , @lomaeuwu, @briefwinnerpersonaturtle , @sammy213ui , @stella-fleurets, @elliellielliesgirl
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fandomxpreferences · 11 months
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Secrets Secrets Are No Fun
Masterlist
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x female!reader, past Barry x female!reader
TW:18+, mentions of alcohol consumption and drug abuse, angst, fluff,smut, oral (f receiving), dominance, mild breeding kink, I think thats all
Summary:Rafe discovers some interesting information about your past and reminds you who you belong to.
Word Count.3.6k
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Rafe has never been one for involving you with his work. He insists that you're too sweet and pretty; his perfect girl that should never have to lift a manicured finger. 
Deeper than that though, is his desire to protect you. It's no secret that Rafe has gotten involved in shady dealings in the past, and he wants you nowhere near it. 
He isn't aware of your own suspicious past; your younger years before him spent on the cut and around less-than-moral people. 
One of the things that drew him to you was your natural ability to be the life of the party and he was hooked when you beat him in a game of beer pong. He never stopped to ask where those qualities came from though, and you never offered up the answer. 
To say you're surprised when he brings you along to a "business" meeting on the cut is an understatement. You're not entirely sure what he could possibly have arranged on that side of the island, but you don't press for details. 
Familiar streets and houses blur by as you draw closer to your old stomping grounds, and your stomach sinks when he pulls up to a house you recognize all too well. 
His hand falls to its usual place on the small of your back as he leads you up the yard, the man you were hoping never to see again slamming the screen door behind him when he hears your arrival. 
You stay tucked into your boyfriend's side, his fingers digging into your waist as a reminder that you're safe. Little does he know, this used to be a place of solace for you and danger isn't even a thought in your mind. 
Your eyes lock with Barry's momentarily, widening the slightest bit to try and communicate as Rafe looks forward. 
"Shiiiiiit, if it ain't the princess herself. Long time no see."
He flashes a toothy grin and you do your best to conceal the panic clawing up your throat as you shift on your feet. 
Rafe frowns a bit, unaware that the two of you have met. 
"You know him?"
He's turned to you now, confusion swimming in his ocean eyes as your gaze stays locked on Barry. 
"Yeah, she knows me re-"
You cut him off suddenly, tilting your head to peer up at Rafe.
"We've met at a few parties and talked some. We're just acquaintances, really."
You give him a blinding smile that seems to convince him, and Barry eyes you knowingly. A devilish grin splits his feathers as he casts his eyes toward the ground and shakes his head.
"Yeah, country club. Acquaintances."
Rafe glances between the two of you suspiciously, picking up on unspoken tension and the slight edge to Barry's voice. He doesn't like being in the dark, and he has a nagging feeling that you're not telling him something. 
Still, he lets it go for now and takes a step forward. You hang back with your arms crossed, toying with the grass beneath your feet as you tune out their conversation. This is a new level of trust from Rafe; he's never let you know any details in the past. 
It causes an ache in your chest; guilt eating at you as he puts his heart in your hands while you hide the truth. You try to convince yourself that it's not particularly deceitful, you're just not giving him the entire story. It wouldn't do anything but cause problems anyway; so what's the harm in a little white lie?
What he doesn't know can't hurt him. 
You're lost in your thoughts; images of white lines and passion-filled nights flashing behind your eyelids. It's not your proudest moment, climbing into bed with a drug dealer. You're ashamed of that part of your life; you were lost and willing to risk everything just to feel something. 
You've since grown up and found purpose. You're happy and it's all behind you. So really, why does it matter? It led you to where you are. 
Your little fling, if you can even call it that, with Barry was short-lived. You only hooked up with him while high, so honestly you could argue that it wasn't really you. It was an alter ego that comes out when you're under the influence, on a war path to make bad decisions. 
Granted, you were sober when you woke up still in his bed and decided to stay, but that's neither here nor there.
Is that a little toxic and twisted? Perhaps. At this point, you're making up any excuse to convince yourself that you aren't wrong for keeping it from Rafe. 
Besides, what were you supposed to do? Stroll up to him and casually say 'By the way, I used to do coke and fuck my drug dealer. Love you!'? That most definitely wouldn't have gone over well. 
You're torn out of your thoughts when you feel Rafe beside you again, and let him lead you back to his truck wordlessly. You don't cast Barry a second glance, though you can feel his gaze burning into your back. 
The drive back is silent, and you can tell by the tortured look on Rafe's face that he has questions. His fingers are tapping the steering wheel rapidly, deep creases between his brows as he scowls. 
As soon as you get back, you hop out and make a beeline toward Tannyhill. He's hot on your heels, ready to pick a fight, but you don't give him the chance. You grab your keys, spouting off an excuse about an errand you need to run, before practically sprinting to your car. 
He lets you go, a sinking feeling in his gut as he watches you peel out of the driveway. 
You're not exactly thinking clearly as you follow the route you know by muscle memory, panic clouding over any logical thought. You need to make sure this stays a secret. 
Your tires squeal as you skid to a stop, and you nearly gag at the victorious look on his face when he sees you. 
"Couldn't stay away, huh?"
You march forward, hands coming up to shove him back before pointing a finger in his face. It does little to deter him, his eyes darkening with lust at your defiant and bratty attitude.
"Don't start with me. Our deal still stands, Barry. Whatever the fuck happened stays between us."
You take a step back when he moves toward you, wanting to keep as much distance as possible. 
"Ah, so I was right. Country club doesn't know."
You scoff and roll your eyes, hands coming to rest on your hips. 
"Yeah, I told him that I used to fuck a low-level dealer on the cut that I didn't even know he was aware existed. Of course he doesn't fucking know, Barry!"
He barks out a short laugh, bringing a joint up to his mouth before holding it out as a peace offering. You shoot him a harsh glare, and his hands come up in surrender. 
"Just figured you would've told your boyfriend about us, baby doll."
Your nose scrunches at the nickname and a new fire surges through your veins as you step into his personal space. 
"There is no us, Barry. There never was!"
He raises his eyebrows, not convinced that you believe your own line of bullshit. There were one too many mornings spent over with tangled legs and a few too many secrets shared for it to have been nothing. 
"That's not what you were screaming when I was buried inside you and doing a line.." His finger moves to trace the valley between your breasts as he continues. "Right here."
You shudder at his touch, not from desire but rather disgust at feeling his hand on you again. 
"Don't worry, I won't say nothin'. But if he ever fails to satisfy you, you know where to find me. I still remember where all those little spots are that make you sc-"
You cut him off, not able to bear the rest of his sentence. 
"Yeah, whatever. See ya never."
You flip him off before turning on your heel, but stop mid-stride when his voice rings out. 
"Oh, and doll? The two of you may have more in common than you think. How you think he knows me so well?"
The question swirls around in your brain as you climb back into the driver's seat and start toward your boyfriend's house. That hadn't even occurred to you. Barry was known for one thing, so how the hell would Rafe know him? Let alone come to be in business with him. 
Your thoughts are racing by the time you arrive, questions that don't have logical answers plaguing your mind. 
Rafe is in front of you within seconds once you cross the threshold, concern and anger clear on his face. It seems that both of you have had time to stew and come up with various scenarios. 
You walk past him casually, finding a glass to fill with water as he leans against the kitchen island. 
"You know, I was thinking,"
So it begins. Rafe thinking is never good; but in this case, he doesn't know that you have ammo of your own. He's going to regret pulling at this thread, that much you're sure of. 
"You said you've met Barry at parties, but he wouldn't be caught dead on Figure Eight. Which means you were on the Cut. So you wanna tell me the truth before I go beat it out of him?"
You turn around slowly, sipping leisurely as you hold eye contact over the rim of the glass. He falters slightly at the steely look in your eyes that rivals the fire in his but holds his ground. You take your time, giving him a chance to back down. 
When he doesn't, you set the cup down and lean forward to match his stance, pursing your lips for dramatic effect. 
"You know, Rafe, I could ask you the same thing. It seems neither of us have been completely honest."
Satisfaction blooms in your chest when his eyes widen slightly, no doubt wishing that he had just dropped the subject. His mouth opens and closes a few times as he flounders, and you cock your head to the side in a mocking manner. 
"Cat got your tongue, country club?"
His eyes darken when you repeat the nickname he loathes, and he stands up straight while moving to loom over you. 
"Don't change the fucking subject."
His voice is deeper than usual, dripping off his tongue like molasses as anger bubbles up inside him. 
"I'm not changing the subject. I'm just asking how you know Barry since you seem so pissed off that I know him. We both know what he does and you said yourself that he wouldn't come to Figure Eight, which means you sought him out on the cut. Seems like your casting stones from a glass house."
Your tone is far too casual as you shrug your shoulders like you're discussing what to have for dinner and it pisses Rafe off more.
"What was the errand you had to run, sweetheart? You came back empty-handed."
Your silence seems to confirm his suspicion and he nods his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he chuckles. 
"Did you fuck him?"
The question is dripping with venom, but you don't miss the heartache lying just under the surface. You soften a bit at the realization he thinks you cheated and shake your head. 
"Today? No. Ever? Yes. It was a long time ago, Rafe. Way before I even knew you. I used to do some fucked up shit, but that's not who I am anymore."
Your voice is timid as you finally give him the answer he was looking for, a weight lifting off your shoulders as your last secret is revealed to your boyfriend. 
His eyes dart back and forth as he processes the new information, and he cages you against the counter while dropping his face to be level with yours. In any other circumstance, it would be intimidating. However, when you see the raw vulnerability he's displaying, it's anything but. 
"Were you in love with him?"
Your eyes widen, realization hitting you that he doesn't have all the information. As far as he knows, you were in a relationship. 
"No, Rafe. Not even close. We would do blow and then hookup. It started turning into something more towards the end and that's why I walked away from it all and never looked back. I wanted more for myself."
Your voice is soft and comforting, and he searches your eyes for any sign of deceit. 
"You did coke?"
You nod slowly, unsure how he's going to react to your confession. Against your better judgment, you decide to circle back to your question. 
"How do you know him, Rafe?"
The fury returns to his eyes at the prospect of being held accountable, and any compassion that was there just a second ago is gone. 
"I'm not done with my interrogation, baby. Did he fuck you right?"
Your mouth falls open at his brazen inquiry, unsure what the right answer is. The truth is yes, he did. However, telling Rafe that doesn't seem like a good choice so you remain silent. 
"Did he make you scream like I do? Huh? Did he know all the right places to touch? Did he know your body the same as me?"
You release a sharp gasp when his hand shoves into your pants, instantly finding the bundle of nerves and pressing tight figure eights. You choke on a strangled moan when the coolness of his signet ring grazes across your folds, his index finger dipping down to collect your slick. 
"Is this for me? Or is it for Barry?"
There's a cruel glint in his eyes, blue irises barely peeking out behind blown-out pupils. You can't bring yourself to respond, too focused on the sparks of pleasure jolting through your body. 
"Answer me! Or I won't let you come for a week."
You know that Rafe is nothing if not a man of his word, and try to muster up the strength to speak. 
"You, Rafe. It's always for you."
His lips press to the pulse point just below your ear, his hot breath causing goosebumps to erupt as he whispers into your skin. He tsks, not satisfied with your answer. 
"I don't believe you."
You're about to plead your case, when he picks you up and sets you on the counter, forcing your legs apart and ripping your shorts and lace thong off in one fell swoop. 
"Does he know how sweet you taste?"
It's a rhetorical question; and even if it wasn't, you wouldn't answer anyway. Rafe is too far gone when he's like this, anything you say will only make it worse. 
Before you can process, his lips are wrapped around your clit sucking harshly as he shoves two fingers into your soaking heat. 
Your hips jolt up as you let out a scream, his large hand resting on your lower stomach to shove you back down. 
"Don't fucking move. I want you to scream my name so loud he can hear it all the way across the island. You're never going to think about him again. Do you understand?"
You give a short nod, only to be met with a sharp sting on your clit when he bites down. 
"Words."
A shrill whine rips from your throat, desperation leaking out of every pore. 
"Yes! Yes, I understand!"
You're rewarded with his fingers curling up into that spot he knows by heart, eyes fluttering closed at the blissful sensation. 
"Look at me. I want you to see who's making you feel this good."
You do as he says, prying your eyelids open and propping up on your elbows so you can watch him devour you. 
"Fuck, Rafe."
He groans into you, alternating between licking and sucking as your high approaches at record speed. Your pussy clamps down on him, mere seconds from release when he suddenly pulls back. 
You whimper at the loss of contact, and he pulls you down to your feet. His hand presses down harshly on your head, pressing your hips into the counter hard enough to leave bruises. 
"Whores don't get to come. Maybe if you're a good girl for me and take this cock the way you're supposed to, I'll give you permission."
You moan out at his filthy words, a chuckle reverberating from his chest as you hear his belt buckle clink. 
"You just love when I treat you like a little slut, don't you?"
His hand comes down on your ass in a sharp slap when you don't respond quickly enough, and he teases your entrance with the tip of his cock. 
"Answer me or I'll leave you here dripping."
"Fuck, yes. I love when you treat me like your slut!"
He nudges inside you just enough to draw a deep moan from your chest before stopping and leaning forward so his body is covering yours. 
"Yes, what?"
The raspiness of his voice has you keening for more, now willing to do anything just to find relief. 
"Yes, Rafe."
"Good girl."
He thrusts into you suddenly, your body lurching forward at the force, and sets a brutal pace. 
"God damn, you're so ti-tight. Did he fill you up this good?"
You shake your head from side to side, turning to sink your teeth into his bicep resting beside your face. 
"No, Rafe! Fu-fuck, never."
You push your hips back to meet him, and nearly come from the groan he lets out. 
"Keep doing that, baby. So good for me."
You follow his command, a thin sheen of sweat coating both of you as you're lost in the throws of passion. Rafe can feel you tighten around him, a sign that your high is imminent. His nimble fingers reach around to rub fast circles on your clit, blistering heat itching to explode. 
"Oh, my- Rafe!" 
Your voice echoes off the walls as you scream out for him, and he remains consistent in his efforts. 
"I know. Come for me, pretty girl. Give it to me."
His words send you over the edge, and your body convulses against him as every nerve ending ignites. Your repetitive screaming of his name never ceases as your vision goes white, Rafe's strong arms holding you steady. 
"Shit, I'm close. Gonna fill you up and give you a baby so everybody knows you're mine. Taking me so well."
The desperation in his voice hurtles you into your second orgasm, barely giving you time to come down from your first. This triggers Rafe, his movements becoming erratic as he coats your walls.
He pumps into you a few more times before slowly pulling out, a combination of your fluids dripping down your legs. His fingers reach down to fuck his cum back into you as your body trembles, completely spent. 
"That's a first."
Your eyebrows furrow at his statement, turning just enough to see what he's referring to. Your jaw goes slack when your eyes land on the puddle at his feet, along with his soaked thighs. 
"Holy shit."
He chuckles with pride, his large hand coming to smooth down your hair. 
"Yeah, you made a mess baby."
He kisses your spine a few times before cleaning up quickly, his arms encompassing you once he's done. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you up to his bedroom, allowing you to cling to him with ease while he turns on the shower. 
Once it's to the desired temperature, he steps inside with one arm completely wrapped around your back and his other hand on the underside of your thigh. 
You release a sigh when the warm water hits your skin, nuzzling your face into his neck when he kisses your temple. 
"You have to get down if we're going to wash up, baby."
He's met with your face rubbing against him as you shake your head, and laughs loudly. 
"Come on."
He sets you down slowly, not relinquishing his hold until he's sure your legs aren't going to give out. It's peaceful for a few minutes while he goes through the motions of washing your hair, lips pressing soft kisses to your bare flesh every few seconds. 
It's a stark contrast to his persona twenty minutes ago; the side of him you love more than anything. 
"He used to be my dealer."
Your head jerks up at this, your eyes meeting his as an encouragement to continue. 
"I had a coke problem when we met. As soon as I realized you were special, I quit cold turkey. Haven't touched it in almost two years. Withdrawals were a bitch, but I just kept picturing your face and it got me through."
You nod slowly, taking in his honest answer before pressing a tender kiss to his lips. 
"Why didn't you tell me about you and Barry?"
His finger rests under your chin, gently guiding your face back up when you turn it toward the floor. 
"You never asked, and honestly I didn't think it mattered. Probably the same reason you didn't tell me. It's in the past and I don't read books backward. Once a chapter is closed, it stays that way and I didn't want to revisit it."
He hums in understanding and presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. 
"I love you."
You lean into him, allowing your body to press flush against his toned abdomen as he blankets you in comfort. 
"I love you too."
@genius2050
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nanaminokanojo · 2 months
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THAWING ICE QUEEN (part 88)
–one night of fooling around with the annoying campus king gojo satoru (he thinks so), turns into...well, something else more long term
CHARACTERS: gojo satoru x you | geto suguru | jjk characters
GENRE: college au | smut | smau | smau + prose | everything in between | ons | fubus to lovers | aged-up characters | idk where this is going
⚠️ TW/CW: strong/mature language | 🔞 | mentions of alcohol, smoking, etc. | this has narrations | god-awful pet names | will add more if something arises
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX
<<prev part 88 next>>
A/N: Contains prose. CW: slight violence (hello sukuna) | angst
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“Guards?”
You swallowed hard, pausing a step behind your father when your cousin’s unmistakable low mocking tone jolted you from your tedium. Your old man made good on his word to obtain all the necessary requirements you would need for your transfer to London. Everything was going according to his plan, you thought bitterly, merely sitting down through the whole process in livid resignation as the dean of the students’ affairs babbled about losing an asset to your department.
Or so your father thought.
Tension rose like thick fog between your cousin and the four men who came with you per your father’s orders. The latter eyed Sukuna as if he wasn’t of any consequence, but you saw his shoulders square up ever so slightly. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t put it past Sukuna to do anything outrageous, and he hired people to watch you at least until the whole process was done.
“Damn, old man. Isn’t this going over the top?” Sukuna spat, leering at your father. You just stood there, watching his fists clenching and unclenching. There was no mistake in his intentions. You grew up with him after all. He took after your aunt, and when he sets his mind on something, regardless of what stood in his way, there was no stopping him.
Just then, his eyes shifted to you. “Are you just gonna stand there?” he snapped just as Yuuji appeared behind him, flashing you an imploring look. “Y/N, come with us.”
You swallowed hard. “I –”
“Get in the car. We had a deal.”
“Don’t move a fuckin’ inch, brat!” Sukuna hissed. “You’re coming home with us.”
“Enough.” The older male merely nodded, conveying his silent command for his men to handle Sukuna should be dare do anything. However, even they hesitated when Kento came into view, getting in between your father and Sukuna. Close behind him were Choso, Suguru, and…
“Sukuna, walk away,” you vaguely heard Kento say.
“Come on, man.” Suguru.
Satoru.
Everything seemed to slow down to a snail’s pace, everything quieting down to a dull hum as the images around you warped into nothing but blurry, distorted colors. Your breath caught in your throat the moment those striking cerulean eyes met yours. And like a dried up gorge, your mind filled with every waking moment you’ve spent with him, every word he ever uttered to you, the sound of his laughter, his smiles… his tears.
You didn’t think you’d see him so soon, and your eyes threatened to fill with tears. It took everything in you to suppress them along with the feeling of your knees about to buckle. Or maybe it was that feeling of just wanting to walk towards him, so near yet so, so very far, and melt in his warmth. Tell him you’re sorry. Hold him. Let him hold you together. Come clean.
Satoru’s eyes remained fixed on you, communicating with you without words, every single word he wrote to you in his messages trickling into the forefront of your mind.
‘I really miss you…’
‘Give me reason to let go…to hate you.’
‘I don’t regret anything.’
‘I love you.’
“No!” Sukuna growled, snapping you out of your reverie and making you remember just why you can’t even talk to him; why you can’t even explain anything to him. Because everything would be a lie anyway. It was better for him to just let you go than hear you spout bullshit about why you even hurt him.
Stepping forward, you stepped towards Sukuna and Yuuji, flashing them a warning look. “Don’t do this.”
Kento inconspicuously jerked his head towards the waiting car just a few paces away.
Your father shrugged, his cold eyes finding Satoru. It didn’t escape your notice how he smirked at the latter’s direction and held you back, grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him. “I said get in the car, Y/N,” he stated again, voice deceptively calm.
“WHY?!”
You knew Sukuna’s question was directed to you, the anger and sadness in his tone slashing at you, but you kept your resolve strong and shook your head.
“You promised you would stay with us. Was that a fucking lie? You’re just gonna leave us?”
You shook your head. “Let’s talk tomorrow.” To your father, you said, “Let’s go.” You turned to walk towards the car.
However, he just had to talk. “You have nothing to do with this –”
It all happened so fast. None of your father’s hired security personnel were able to react fast enough. Yuuji was just a beat too late holding Sukuna back, and Kento wasn’t able to anticipate it either. You stood there, barely able to turn your head to their direction when you saw a flash of pink and black, one large fist speeding towards your father who flew backwards on the pavement, ending up on his bottom, his mouth busted. All that happened in a matter of seconds. Probably not even.
“Sukuna!” you heard several people call his name, but all you could think about was how he would do anything to protect the family while you stood on the opposite side of the spectrum, unable to do just that.
Before you knew it, tears were falling from your eyes as chuckles started to erupt from your throat, soft at first and then becoming more audible, enough for everyone around you to snap their heads towards where you stood. You covered your mouth at first, not really understanding why the hell you were laughing of all things. You just were.
“Y/N…” Suguru was about to walk towards you, but one of your father’s men held out an arm while you started laughing, unable to stop it despite how much tears were falling from your eyes.
“You think this is funny?” Sukuna, who is being held back in a headlock by both Yuuji and Kento, asked you scathingly while your father looked at you strangely, seemingly unable to recognize you. But when did he? He didn’t even seem to linger much on the thought as he was helped up, jabbing a finger at your cousin.
“I’ll make sure you’re locked up for –”
“No.” Through your hysteria, you stood in front of your father, glaring hard at him through clenched teeth. Your hands balled into fists beside you, so tight that you could feel your nails ripping your palms open as you swallowed your misplaced laughter for your next words: “You p-promised. You fucking promised!”
At that, your father seemed to calm down a bit, merely glancing at Sukuna before turning away and getting in the car. You just stood there, breathing so hard that you were seeing black spots in your vision.
And then you felt that familiar warmth seize you as long fingers gently wrapped around your upper arm, making you turn around, but before your eyes can meet those blue drowning pools that threatened to pull you into their owner’s arms where you wished to stay – with each and every nerve on your body firing with nothing but pain – you made him unhand you, prying off his hand from you before walking away and feeling your body turn freezing cold despite the burning sun above you.
Just then Sukuna spoke, making you pause.
“Coward.”
 I know.
And then you boarded the car without sparing a single glance towards the people you knew cared deeply for you, the same ones you were hurting deeply with your decision to leave.
All because you fell in love.
You both did.
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A/N: Gonna leave this update for you guys. I'll be doing the rest in the following days. Please enjoy! Thank you all so much for reading. It's getting long, but I don't want to make this half-assed or rushed. We'll get to the end soon enough. Again, thanks!
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© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S JUJUTSU KAISEN. [20240223]
PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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ellssbellss · 10 months
Text
Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader
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pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader
In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!
Happy 1 year to Lavender Roses and this entire, wonderful blog. Without you, this story wouldn't have reached as many people as it has. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.
-> summary: "But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me."
-> word count: 8.3k
tw! the scene on the cliff gets a little intense, mentions of blood, demeaning language against women, slight PTSD, weaponry (knives), verbal assault, physical assault, sexual misconduct. kyoya is dumb and so are you.
legend:
(M/n) - mother's name
(n/l) - native language
(s/c) - skin color
see masterlist! masterlist
taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck
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The Sun, The Sea, and The Host Club! pt. 2
Kyoya lounges as he writes, a foreign feeling of contentment wrapped around his frame.
Soft bursts of images sift through his mind, you over his lap, your arm on his side while his gravitates towards your hip. How close your mouth was to his and how badly he wanted to taste it. How he had basically lunged at the chance, not that you were complaining.
That had caught him off guard. 
As he was writing, the megane realized he had never been a fan of romance. Above multiple reasons, he never saw the point. His father and mother had married for business instead of love, creating an environment where affection was not celebrated or practiced. He would see couples in the hallway and roll his eyes, thinking that they were wasting their time. 
When he voiced these opinions one evening to his sister Fuyumi, she gasped. 
“Kyoya! You really think love is a waste of time?”
“It’s a chemical reaction, Fuyumi, that’s all.” He had explained in a monotone voice, barely giving her any attention as he was typing away at his computer. “Your brain releases a certain neurotransmitter when you find someone attractive and compatible, and it tricks you into thinking you’re in love. Companies leech off this, creating Valentine’s Day, cards, encouraging weddings and all this nonsense.” 
He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I am not one to be fooled, and I will certainly not allow myself to be tricked by my own mind.” 
Kyoya ended his bored rant with an amused chuckle, feeling sorry for the suckers out there who lost precious time and money on something that could never really last, at least not forever. 
But Fuyumi just stood there, leaning against the doorway with a small smile on her face as she looked at her oblivious brother, too young to take the world as seriously as he did. 
“You can tell me that when you meet a wonderful man or woman, and we will see how you feel about how you want to spend your time.”
Kyoya scoffed. “Please, how I feel is irrelevant. My work is what deserves my time, end of story.”
Then his phone rang, and he paused his typing to see a contact picture flashing on the screen. Leaving his chair, he had walked to the door of his bedroom as he answered the call. 
“Hello, give me one second, please.” Then he turned to her, a little brother shoving his sister out of his room.
“Goodnight, Fuyumi.” The door closed behind him with a clack, and Fuyumi heard her brother pick up his conversation as he disappeared into his room. “Hello, (Y/n), thank you for calling me back…”
Kyoya smirked as he came back to the sounds of the beach, waves and laughing people filling his ears as his thoughts ran away with him. 
He had met a wonderful girl. And he could barely fathom how he was lucky enough to understand the feeling his sister was talking about. The pull he had to you was intense, and it was something he had never experienced with anyone before. 
The sun had reflected off of your (e/c) irises so perfectly in that moment, and the short distance had enticed him heavily, that the pull tugged and tugged. 
He hadn’t even confessed yet, and you had somehow convinced him to give in to his own temptations. 
“Kyoya! What should I do?!”
The ravenet broke out of his thoughts as his best friend ran towards him, arms holding a bucket of snakes in their grasp. 
Kyoya simply arched his brow.
“I wanted to scare Haruhi and (Y/n) with these rat snakes, but the twins said that anyone would find them creepy, so it wasn’t a true weakness! And now I don’t know what to do!” Tamaki whined, his voice rising as he shuffled on his feet, anxious about the snakes in his grasp. 
The club director’s spectacled gaze fell onto the snakes, twisting inside the plastic bucket without a care in the world. Taking a closer look, he let out a deep sigh.
“Those aren’t rat snakes, Tamaki. They are poisonous Habu snakes.” Kyoya turns back to his book. “Rat snakes aren’t even native to Okinawa.”
“What?!” Suddenly, the prince of the host club is running around in circles, whining while juggling the bucket in his hands. “What do I do with them?! C’mon, Kyo, you gotta help me out!”
“Tamaki, Kyoya!”
Both boys freeze as they watch Haruhi race towards them, her feet kicking up sand as she meets them at the chair. 
She’s breathing heavily, her eyes wide with fright and worry as she heaves. “Help, please, you’ve gotta help me.”
Forgetting about the bucket completely, Tamaki rushed over to Haruhi, pulling her close to him to try to ease some of her worries. “What is it, Haruhi? Are you hurt? What do you need?”
“It’s (Y/n). I thought we could handle it, but things got out of control. She told me to come get you.”
“What?” Kyoya sits up on his chair, quelling the anxiety in his chest. He admired Haruhi for being a girl who is very put together, so for her to fight the fear in her voice so adamantly is concerning. “Is she okay?”
“What’s wrong with (Y/n)?” Tamaki says calmly and firmly, trying to get some answers out of his panicking honor student. 
“These boys! They were- they-, god just follow me!” Flustered she turns around, sprinting away from the two hosts.
Kyoya and Tamaki rush in pursuit, agony filling into their chests. 
As the cliff comes into view, Kyoya catches Haruhi’s concerned gaze rise to the top of it, his own eyes following. Three shadowy figures struggle in the sunset, and his heart plummets as one of them is pushed to the high edge. 
In the distance, a piece of fabric lies stagnant in the sand, and Kyoya curses as he passes by it. A Hawiian shirt, ripped and torn as it lies helplessly in the sand. 
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“No, no wait. Stop!” You struggle as Ren pushes you back, your heels leaving the ground as he holds you over the cliff's edge.
“Yeah, yeah, you know what?” The alcohol on his breath is rancid as he sneers, Aoi grinning behind him. “I ain’t got time for difficult chicks like you. Might as well leave you out to sea.” He jostled you, and relished in the way you flinched. 
“Don’t! Don’t, please, don’t. It’s too much. Please, don’t let me go.”
“Oh, now you’re begging for me to hold you? Where was this a few seconds ago, sweetheart?”
“(Y/n)!” Hearing Tamaki’s voice was sweeter than any cake that Honey could’ve given you, making you want to cry out in relief as you looked behind the two thugs. 
Ren and Aoi freeze as you see Haruhi, Kyoya and Tamaki round the corner of the bottom of the cliff, concern and determination shining in their visages.
Meeting Kyoya’s gaze, you wriggle around some more, trying your best to shove Ren off of you without any friction below you. “Tamaki! Kyoya! They’re going to-”
You're quieted with a hand covering your mouth, Ren shouting in your face. “Be quiet! We aren’t doing anything!”
Kyoya’s jaw clenched at your plea, and he pumps his legs into a faster run, trying to get to you as you are, dear god, dangled off a cliff. “Let go of her!”
Aoi turns to Ren, and you see panic in his eyes as your three heroes charge up the rocks. “Ren, we gotta go. Like now, they don’t look happy.”
“Shut up, I know that.” Ren snarls before he forces a grin and turns to the boys, holding you up by one hand now.
“You want me to let go? Well, whatever you say.”
“No!” Kyoya called, but it was too late. 
Ren’s fingers go limp, any tension that was holding you up above the waters below disappearing as the fabric of your bathing suit slips from his grasp. 
The air whipped around you as you watch the cliff get smaller and smaller, plummeting towards your greatest fear. You feel a scream bubble up to the opening of your throat, but no noise dares to release, shock taking over your entire body.
Cold, sharp pains spider through your back as you hit the water, knocking all the wind out of your lungs in one single splash. The feeling of watery nothingness surrounds your skin as it pricks you. At the waterpark, the lazy river had tried to pull you into its flow, desperately and immaturely trying to take its next victim. 
But the ocean was experienced, eerily calm as it let you sink. And sink. Wrapping its deep silence around your form, you don’t think you’ll ever stop sinking. 
And as you begin to cry at the thought, water fills your lungs. 
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“(Y/n)!” Haruhi tried to call, but you were already out of sight, plunging into the water below. Panic clouded Kyoya’s mind as he ran, all of his thoughts zeroed in on the conversation that he had just had with you minutes before. 
I just don’t like the idea of being deprived of oxygen. Then I’d just sink, and be lost.
And now you were lost to him, falling into something you so desperately had tried to avoid. 
In his pursuit, a hooded man, much shorter than Kyoya, tried to step in his way. The kid grabbed at him, and any anger Kyoya had in his body went into a singular push, sending the man tumbling to the side. “Get out of my way.”
Reaching the edge, Kyoya didn’t think twice. Discarding his precious glasses to the side, Kyoya shoved the problem of the disgusting man in the red shirt out of the way, and took the dive. 
Long and lanky, he arched into the dive, his nearsightedness making it so your figure was just a blur from this distance, but he targeted it. His palm reached out and willed you to be closer, willed you to be okay. 
“(Y/n)!” He called as your fuzzy figure disappeared into the ocean with a harsh slap, the sound echoing in his ears. Kyoya’s own fall ended as he dipped into the water soon after, cursing his terrible vision as he looked around. 
A relieved exhale presented itself in bubbles when he finally saw you, drifting limply as the current pulled you along. Kicking hard, Kyoya stretched his muscles and his lungs as he held his breath, fighting against the density of the water. As he got closer, his stomach turned when he saw a small vein of red seeping from a cut in your leg, which only made him swim faster towards you. 
Finally, his hand grasped your floating one, and in one quick movement, pulled you against his chest. With your weight against him, his logical mind rebooted, and he tucked your head under his chin as he swam up to the surface. 
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“(N/n)-chan!”
“Kyoya-senpai!”
The voices seemed so distant, your skin clammy and gooseing against the beach air. Something was moving you, you could feel a familiar pressure against the small of your back and behind your knees, but it didn’t distract from the wave.
Your blood waved, splashing and swaying against the walls of your veins. It felt like your muscles had melted into liquid, and you were still in the pool, being bobbed and pulled into the black of the ocean. 
But then there was a shade of orange behind your lids, and blinking made it brighter. Something dragged over them still, tugging your eyes open as the sky moved above you. 
Tufts of black hair and a very sharp jawline were the next visions to come into your view, and the waving stopped, replaced by the firm steps of Kyoya carrying you to safety.
“Kyo…” Your voice was hoarse, raw from unconsciously coughing up water as soon as you had reached the surface. 
He didn’t respond, his gray eyes covered by his wet hair, but his grip on you tightened ever so slightly. 
Instead, he looked forward towards what you would assume to be your friends, but you were too focused on the deep orange the sunset casted across the clouds. 
“Where’d they go?”
“We took their ID cards and asked them to leave, not before showing them what’s for.” A voice said. Hikaru..yeah, Hikaru.
“The girls went back to the hotel and Mori called a doctor. He should be here any minute.” Kaoru follows like he always does, and the comfort of their routine brought you back to reality, especially when they mentioned the doctor.
“I’m fine, guys. I really don’t want to see a doctor.” You say, sighing as you leave Kyoya’s grasp. When your feet hit the solid ground of packed sand, you wobbled a bit, and Tamaki came into your line of sight. 
His arms helped steady you, but he didn’t let go as you straightened out. “What were you thinking?”
Still a little dazed, your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Tamaki, stop.” Haruhi says as she stands next to you, giving you one of her jackets to wrap around yourself. 
“No, no.” Tamaki’s voice is low, collected. It shook you. “What were either of you thinking? You know, you aren’t martial arts masters like Honey and Mori-senpai.”
“Duh, don’t you think I know that?” You chuckle a bit, trying to lighten the mood, but you’re getting more and more frustrated by your best friend’s accusatory tone.
“You think this is funny?” Your prince is in disbelief as he raises his hands from your shoulders to the base of your neck. “Why did you confront them? What made you think you could stand a chance? You against two boys?”
“It doesn’t matter if they were boys and I’m a girl. They were harassing our guests, they needed to be stopped!” The emotional toll that today’s events have taken wore down your patience, and now you’re raising your tone, lacing it with betrayal and disbelief.
“We were there, Tamaki, we had to do something!” Haruhi takes a stand, trying to talk some sense into your best friend. 
“That’s no excuse, you idiots! Don’t forget that you are girls!”
“Kyoya.” Turning, you look back at your director for some support. “Tell him we did the right thing.”
But there is no answer. Kyoya just stands there with his arms folded, his mouth formed into a straight, formidable line, securing all of his thoughts behind a single wall. Water drips off the ends of his hair onto his toned torso as his jaw clenches, not breaking eye contact with you. 
“Kyoya?”
“You ran into a situation unprepared, unyielding, and irresponsibly. You put yourself in danger, self-sacrificing your safety for the needs of three girls you barely know.”
If Tamaki’s serious tone was shaking, Kyoya’s was chilling. It was cold, unrelenting as it jabbed into your heart with every syllable. “Are you mad at me right now? After you jumped off a cliff to save me?”
“I wouldn’t have had too, if you had been as smart as I thought you were.”
Defensiveness burns inside you. “I did what had to be done! Yes, it wasn’t safe, but it was me or those girls, and I couldn’t let them get hurt.”
“But you could put yourself at risk?”
“It’s different!”
“How?” With haunting grace, Kyoya outstretched his hand in order for Hikaru to place his lenses into his palms. Using the fabric from his shorts, he cleans them off the best he can, and slips them onto his nose. “The worry you felt for those girls when they were grabbed, and the worry that not only I, but everyone here felt for you when they saw you dangled at the edge of a cliff, you tell me how those are different.”
Heaving a heavy sigh, you run your hands over your face, not being able to put your feelings into words. “It just is. And I’m sorry you had to come save me, but I can’t understand why you’re so mad at me right now.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?”
“I don’t think I did anything wrong!”
At that, Kyoya’s piercing gaze sharpens, and you see his adam's apple bob, a signal that he is calling upon his immeasurable self-control. “You don’t think so? Fine.”
He steps forward, walking towards you and then brushing your shoulder as he passes your form. 
“Kyoya, where-?”
“I don’t think we can speak again until you can admit that you were wrong.”
And with that, his form becomes a spot in the distance as he leaves you in the dusk. 
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Soon, you left the others to wander around Kyoya’s guest house aimlessly. You frowned at every framed picture of his family, even ones where he was young and round, not sharpened by what his world had to offer. 
You climbed to the second floor, only to come to a line of doors. 
“Bedrooms…” you confirmed under your breath, running your hands along the wall as you passed them. “But…which one..?”
On the door handle on the second room from the end of the hall, a yellow rose was tied around it, welcoming and ironic all at once. 
A sad smile came to your face as you plucked it off the knob, then turned it, still holding it in your grasp as you entered the room. 
The room was generic, but you noticed a bouquet of yellow roses sat on the bed, tied with a lavender ribbon. There was a note in the gorgeous arrangement, and you plucked it out from it’s stand. 
Dear (Y/n),
My room is the one at the end of the hall, next door to this one. Should you need anything, you may let me know, and it will be done. 
Have a restful night. 
Sincerely, 
Kyoya Ootori
Swallowing, you set the note down and fiddle with the petals of the roses, Haruhi’s jacket softly brushing against your wet form. That note must’ve been written before everything had gone down, and your heart turned a little at the thought of him coming in here and placing these here with care, knowing how touched you would be when you saw it. 
Putting them on the nightstand, you drag yourself to your shower. While the hot water runs down your body, you rest your head against the tiles, trying to think your way through this. 
Tamaki was frustrated, Kyoya was pissed, and Haruhi was almost hurt. Everything today had been overshadowed by a single action by two terrible people, and you hated it. The drama that had been going on lately, and the stress of the dinner with your family and Arai, had left you tired, emotionally and mentally. To make it worse, the person you wanted to talk to the most about everything that was going on in your head currently was not talking to you. 
Lifting your head, you let the water splash onto your face before getting out and dressing into something that was finally more your speed. The week had been full of dressing you to the nines for the perception of others, but as you prepared to have dinner with your friends (or who you hoped were still your friends), you could wear something that expressed who you were, not who someone wanted you to be. 
As you fixed your face and hair, a knock sounded at your door, methodic as it rang against the wood. 
You almost wanted to ignore it, but the possibility of Kyoya being on the other side was too intriguing, and you rushed to the door, calming down before coolly opening it.
“So, now you decide to-oh. Hey.” Hiding your slight disappointment, you look up to see Mori standing in your doorway. “What’s up, Mori-senpai?”
“Dinner’s ready.” His mouth is curved a little at one side, and you can tell he’s trying to be a little more joyful for you, considering everything that happened. 
He then raises his hand from his side, and presents an Ootori Hospital First Aid Kit. “Kyoya wanted me to give this to you. For your leg.”
Eyebrows raising, you take the kit. Throughout the drama, you forgot about the cut Ren had made on your calf. Seeing it now, the salt water helped stop the bleeding, and it was scabbed over, now just serving as a reminder of what you had gotten yourself into. 
“Thank you, Mori.” Your gratitude came out as a sigh as you set the med kit down, and Mori watched as your form slouched ever so slightly.
“(Y/n).” 
“Hm?” Looking up at him, he swallowed at the tiredness in your eyes. Doing what he thought was right, you felt the stoic place a comforting hand on your head. 
“I can teach you. So can Mistukuni.”
“Teach me? Teach me what?”
“How to protect yourself.”
Two times you had been subjected to the whims of a confused, angered man. And both times, no matter how you had tried to fight against them, you were still untrained, still ignorant of the ways to use your power to its fullest potential. This time, when you looked back at your friend, your eyes glimmered. 
“Really?”
A firm nod came from the tall man, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that expelled out of you. Arms opening, you reach out and hug Mori around his waist, nuzzling into his long frame.
“Thank you, Mori.”
The hand on your head tightened for a moment before he stepped back. “I’m gonna go get Haruhi, and we’ll walk down together, yeah?”
Nodding, you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. “Yeah, sounds good.”
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The minute Haruhi had stepped out of her room, your eyes lit up.
A pretty pink nightgown draped over her shoulders, ruffles shooting out the side of her collarbone. She looked beautiful and elegant, and it was refreshing to see her out of the clothes that reminded you of the fight on the cliff. 
And if you thought she was beautiful, the rest of the hosts clearly didn’t disagree.
As the three of you stepped out into the dining hall, the twins immediately shot up, mouths agape as Haruhi glided into the room. 
Even Honey smiled as he stood on the chair of his seat, milk chocolate eyes glittering with the sight of her.
“Woah!” The boy-lolita said, and you stepped aside as he and the twins surrounded the honor student, complimenting her as she smiled gratefully. 
Turning towards the long dining table, you see two figures. Tamaki fights the blush on his face as he stares at Haruhi, but still chooses to sulk at his place at the table. His purple eyes meet yours, and then they slide down, and your stomach coils as he turns himself off to you.
Daring to glance at the person sitting across from your prince, Kyoya leans into his chair, his black journal perfectly perched on his lap as he writes, and you swallow. 
Knowing that Tamaki was a ticking time-bomb, you take your chances, walking up to the Shadow King. 
“Is this seat taken?”
No response. Looking around, you see name cards propped against the plates, your name clearly written in a very familiar cursive. Must’ve been the preparations he had made before.
“Looks like it is now.” You say awkwardly, shuffling the chair out and sitting down next to the ravenet. “I, uh, I got your note. And the roses. They were really beautiful.”
His pen pauses, and his dark eyes lift over his pages to stare into space. Then Kyoya’s eyes shift down, and his writing continues.
Folding your fingers over, you wait silently as the other hosts fawn over Haruhi, literally twirling your thumbs. Tamaki is sitting across from you, avoiding your eyes. Rolling your eyes, you twist your mouth as you try to catch his gaze, and being the pushover he is, he holds it after a moment.
You tilt your head, sitting aggressively back in your chair. You’re mad at me too, now?
Violet eyes roll. He’s not mad at you, just hurt. Talk to him, mon ami.
You think I haven’t tried?
Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough. Flipping his blonde hair away from his eyes, your best friend gives you an incredulous look. The man jumped off of a cliff for you. 
I didn’t ask him to do that.
You wouldn’t have done the same for us?
Your lips part a little, but you look away for a second before meeting his eyes again. A blonde eyebrow raises and Tamaki rests his chin in his hand.
I would’ve jumped off that cliff too if Kyoya hadn’t beaten me to it. We’ve all been through a lot today. Violet eyes are drawn back to the host in pink, and you sigh as they become distant. 
Reaching across the table, you tap it lightly, hearing the writing beside you pause for a moment as Tamaki looks back at you. 
You’re not going to tell her she looks nice? I figured you would’ve been all over that dress.
We aren’t speaking right now. 
Your expression morphs into one of disbelief and slight annoyance. What? Why?
She acted childish, running up there with absolutely no regard for herself.
So did I, and you’re talking to me.
Deadpanning, he smacks his lips together. This isn’t talking! We probably look like crazy people right now.
A small smile takes up the corner of your lips, and he simpers back. Plus, I can’t stay mad at you.
Your eyebrows raise, an equivocal gaze clouding your eyes as you glance over to Haruhi and the twins. I doubt you can stay mad at her.
He straightens his back as a blush rises to his cheeks as Haruhi’s skirt swishes with her movements as the rest of the hosts make their way to the dinner table. She sits down next to him, a challenging look on her face as she spies on him from the corner of her eye.
Tamaki narrows his gaze and turns back to face you, a sigh rolling through his lungs. We’ll see.
The twins pull out a chair and sit, Kaoru to your right and Hikaru to his. After everyone gets situated, plates are filled with delicious looking crab legs and side dishes, creating an array of a colorful feast. 
Cracking shells filled the air as no one bothered to speak, the tension of the room encasing your group into a box of crushing glass. Haruhi began to make a pile of empty shells on her plate, sending the prince that sat next to her in a state of disbelief. 
Digging into your own dinner, you look over to your left to see Kyoya still writing, his portion of the catch of the day remaining untouched. 
“You’re not eating?” Your voice raises barely above a whisper, afraid that if you broke the silence, the tenuous glass of tension would come crashing down on you. 
Not even a glance from the megane. You send a pleading glance to your friend across from you, but Tamaki shrugs. Third times the charm?
Putting your cheek in your teeth, you try to get closer, pulling a strategy that has worked before. “What’re you writing about? Can I see?”
You sulk as Kyoya turns away from you, bending the spine of his book so that the pages are fully covered from your view.
Kaoru, having seen the whole thing, gave a wide eyed look to his brother. “Well this is uncomfortable.”
“Yeah, kind of awkward.” Says his twin.
Defeated, you sit back, smiling weakly as Kaoru puts a few extra crab legs from his plate onto yours. 
Pleasured grumbles interrupt your self-pity as you and the twins look across the table to see Haruhi demolishing crab legs. Everytime she opened her mouth, she made an ‘ah’ sound, a blush coming onto her cheeks as she relished in the seafood taste. 
“Oh my god,” bits of crab fall onto the corner of her mouth as she groans. “These crabs…taste in-crab-ible.” A cute, muffled chuckle escapes out of her full mouth as her stack of crab shells continues to grow. “Get it?”
Tamaki is caught in the splash zone, shells and crab crumbs being tossed into his space as he sits next to her. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Geez, Haruhi, give it a rest.”
“Hm?” Her sarcastic tone goes up in pitch as she fills her stomach with more crustaceans. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”
A tick appears inside the veins of Tamaki’s forehead as he grumbles. “You trying to be cute?”
Haruhi just shoots him a victorious side eye, taking another huge bite of her food. 
Something broke inside the prince and he sighed harshly, slamming his napkin on the table as he rose. “Okay, fine. I get it. It seems you refuse to admit that you were wrong.”
He pushes out his chair, putting his hands in his pockets. “See if I care then, I’m going to bed. Kyoya?”
A voice that must’ve been foreign to you by now sounds a hum as Kyoya stops his writing immediately, giving all of his attention to Tamaki. 
“Will you show me to my room, please?”
“With pleasure.” Kyoya then stands, an aura of nonchalance cascading into your space as he slides by you. “Excuse me, everyone.”
An air of ice surrounds you as Kyoya doesn’t give you a sparing glance, his cold shoulder sending a shiver down your spine while he and Tamaki walk out of the dining room, the large doors closing behind them. 
Haruhi’s confidence dissipates as she watches her prince leave the room. Swallowing her food, she sadly cracks a new crab leg, the overconfident display now being replaced by a sincere realization. 
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should learn to protect myself.”
Looking towards Mori, you share her sentiment. “Yeah, it might be a good idea.” You say, relaxing into your seat. 
Hikaru and Kaoru reflect each other as they put their heads in their hands, giving the both of you empathetic glances. “So that’s it, they got to you, huh?”
Nodding, you look down. “Kyoya can be cold, sure, but he’s never just ignored my existence. Maybe I could take a class or something, I don’t know.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to learn martial arts…” Haruhi thinks out loud, now only picking at the food she had been devouring moments ago. 
“But that’s not the real issue here.” The twins say, folding their arms onto the table.
“To be honest, we were all a little worried about how recklessly you two acted.”
Looking up from your plate, you and Haruhi both shoot Hikaru a confused glance. 
“What do you mean?” You ask, bending around Kaoru to mee Hikaru’s gaze. “We didn’t cause you guys any trouble or anything.”
“Are you serious right now?” Kaoru asks, giving you a disbelieving look.
“Yeah, I mean you guys didn’t have to sprint up a cliff to help (Y/n) and fix my mistakes,” Haruhi reasons. “So you guys were fine, right?”
“That’s not true, Haru-chan.” Honey kneels on to the seat of his chair, his palms resting on the table as leans forward. “I think you guys should apologize, kay?”
“We were all worried, of course, but Kyoya-senpai and the Boss almost had a heart attack.” Kaoru says, speaking with his hands as he waves his fork around.
“We think you need to apologize to them the most. Both of you.” Hikaru states, the hand under his chin moving to support his cheek. 
“But you were worried about us?” The twins looked to their side to see your eyes switching between the both of them. “But why?”
That earns you a deadpanned look from the brothers before Hikaru drops his head on the back of his chair, and Kaoru rests his head on your shoulder with a whine. “You’re both hopeless.”
A small chuckle rises out of you as you rest your head on top of the sneaky twin’s, your mind flashing through the previous events. 
Stubbornly, you knew that you had done the right thing, and that you would’ve made the same choice if you were given a second chance. 
But then you imagined the boy on your shoulder being grabbed by his shirt, hung over the edge of a cliff reaching higher than you thought it could reach, and your gut twisted. Then the image flashed to where Honey was held and Mori was running after him, or Hikaru, then Tamaki.
Then Kyoya. And you immediately understood their worry.
Swallowing wetly, you took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry you guys.”
The twins raise their brow in surprise, and when Haruhi voices her apology too, it melts into a content simper. 
“Awe, come here you little runt.” Somehow pulling you and Haruhi out of your chairs and into their arms, the hosts embrace you in a tight group hug. 
“Don’t get all soft on us now, (Y/n).” The twins say as Honey rubs his cheek against a smiling Haruhi. You laugh and push them off, just in time to see the natural type’s face fall as her color disappears.
Hikaru notices immediately, holding her side. “Is something wrong?”
Haruhi’s stomach makes a concerning gurgle. “I don’t feel so good.”
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And that was how Haruhi ended up in your bathroom, heaving her guts out in your toilet. 
You’re sat on your bed as you hear the toilet flush, looking out one of the massive windows in the room as the moonlight lets itself in. 
The light from your bathroom seeps into the space as Haruhi walks out, weakly falling onto your bed with a light thud. There’s a beat of silence as she flips over, both of you lost in your own thoughts.
“We kind of fucked up, huh?” You joke, still looking out at the ocean as it calmly waved against the shoreline. 
“Yeah. We did.”
“Who do you think we should apologize to first?” You ask, meeting her eye line as she continues to focus on the popcorn ceiling. 
She just shrugs, at a loss for the next step. “Should we go together? Or one at a time?” 
“Probably one at a time. I’ll go to one, and you go to the other, and then we can just switch.” Sheepishly, you sigh. “Besides, I think that I have a little more to apologize for.”
“It could’ve been either of us, (Y/n).” Her low voice echoes off the walls. “If you had run in front of me, it would’ve been me who would’ve gotten thrown over.” 
Another small silence blankets over you before you nodded your head sharply. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”
Haruhi props herself up on her elbows as she watches you push off the bed, an air of confidence surrounding you. “Now?”
“Now.” You stop in the mirror, checking yourself over to make sure you are presentable. “We will get the hard ones out of the way. You apologize to Tamaki, and I’ll apologize to Kyoya.”
“You sure you’re not rushing into things?”
“Nope! Just gotta get it over with.” Head held high, you walk out the door with Haruhi on your heels, picking up the first aid kit so you could return it to its owner.
You and Haruhi walk from your door to the end of the hallway, a lavender rose on one and a red rose on the other. Stopping in front of your respective hosts doors, you each raise a fist, preparing to knock. 
“Ready?” You ask.
“Ready.” She sounds confident, affirming. 
Then each of you turn around and switch places, losing gusto as you walk into Tamaki’s room. 
Knocking softly as Haruhi enter’s Kyoya’s room, you step into the prince’s chambers, searching for the signature strands of blonde hair. 
He jumps from his corner, the phone to his ear tumbling out of his grasp as you spook him with your entrance. Blowing out a breath, Tamaki runs a hand through his hair, tuning back into his conversation. 
“Yes, Grandmother.” Your heart sinks as his tone loses the flamboyant flair you had come to enjoy. “I understand. Goodnight.”
Hanging up the phone, he turns back to you as he hangs up the phone. With a hand on his hip, your regular scheduled Tamaki is up and running, an exaggerated frown on his face. “You can’t just barge into a man’s room like that, mon ami! Think of your manners!”
Looking down, your fingers tighten on the med kit in your hands. You chuckle at his words, but it quickly quiets when you remember what you came in here to do.
Since you chickened out of one apology, the least you could do was try to get through this one. 
Raising your eyes to meet his, blonde eyebrows rise as he senses utter sincerity in your gaze
“Tamaki, I’m so sorry for making you worry.” Earnest honesty blends into your words as you pour your apologies out to him. “Everything happened so fast, and I wasn’t thinking straight when I saw those men try to take advantage of those girls. I just got so mad, ya know? No one deserves to be treated like that.”
Tamaki parts his mouth, but sees that you have more to say, and closes it.
“Haruhi and I tried to run, but they caught the back of my shirt – well, it was Kyoya’s shirt because he let me borrow it earlier today – and I was forced into a fight or flight mode.”
“And you chose to fight.” The prince’s hands pocketed themselves into his jeans. 
Nodding, your actions became a little frenzied. “I wasn’t going to be helpless again, not like that time in the dressing rooms during the physical exam. I can take care of myself, and I wanted him to know it. I wanted him to know I am strong and independent and I wasn’t going to let them do whatever they wanted to me.”
An annoyed sigh shot out of you as the moments on that cliff replayed in your mind. “But one of the guy’s had a knife!” You gesture to your leg. “And it all got out of hand so quickly that it seemed like I blinked and all of a sudden I was being held over an endless sea. I was stupid, and reckless, but I just wanted to help and save them, save myself that I completely–”
Your face collided with a shirt, soft and lavender-scented as your best friend embraced you. Your rapid heartbeat echoed against the close proximity of his chest before it slowed, and you breathed as you wrapped your arms around him. It was a tight embrace as one of your palms grabbed onto the cloth of his button down like a lifeline while the other pressed the med kit into his back.
“I’m sorry.” The apology is muffled as you nuzzle against him. 
Pulling back, Tamaki looks down at you with a gentleness only he could provide. He grabs your hand and pulls you to an empty chair. “Here. Sit down.”
Brow furrowing, you sit as the large, red loveseat molds to your tired body, and you fight against your instinct to melt into the cushions. 
Your confusion takes precedence, though, as Tamaki sits on the floor below you, crossing his legs before holding out his hand. “The med kit?”
Once you hand it to him, he pops it open and scans over the supplies. He stretches his hands and cracks some knuckles before shaking them around, as if they had been asleep for hours and he was trying to wake them up. 
“I might not be good at all the medical stuff like Kyoya, but I can clean up a scratch or two.”
A light giggle rolls out of you as an intense look of concentration sculpts into his features. Setting everything he thinks he needs to the side, he opens his palm again. “May I?”
Rolling your eyes, your heart blooms at your friend's gentle touch as he begins to try and fix what you broke, even if that was what you had come here to do in the first place. 
Eventually, Tamaki breaks the silence that had lulled over the two of you as he applies a cleaner to your cut. “That was my grandmother on the phone.” 
Wincing at the medicine bubbling out of the cut, you nod. “I heard. I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.”
“There’s not much to say.” In comes another rare instance like the one at the Tiki Bar. An aura of calm maturity takes the prince’s form as he sits in front of you, completely concentrated at the task at hand. “She was angry, like usual.”
“Did she yell at you again?”
His nod twists your heart on its chambers, but his eyes flick up at you to stop you from giving him any pity before going back to the task at hand. “She is an angry woman. She was widowed when she was young and since then has had a pessimistic perspective on life.” A sad sigh escapes him, but he still manages to keep a serene smile on his face. “She is not a woman I will ever completely understand, but I think, for the rest of her life, I will always strive too. While I may never be on her good side, I want to always put my best foot forward and keep my mind open, so that I might see the world through her eyes. Understand what she is dealing with even if I don’t agree with her actions.” His chest shakes with a low laugh. “It seems I’m stuck doing that for all the women in my life.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m telling you I understand.” Tamaki rifles through the bandaids and picks one that must’ve come from some sort of Valentine’s Day collection: shiny, red hearts with a white background. 
He places it gently over the scratch Ren had left you with, running his thumb across it in a loving gesture. “You were put in a terrible situation, and you did the only thing you, (Y/n), are programmed to do. Survive.”
His fingers swim through his hair again, and his violet eyes are swimming with genuine kindness with a hint of concern that you don’t think will ever fade away. “You're always by yourself. Your parents leave you alone in your home enough times, and you learn to depend on only yourself, because no one else has ever stepped up to the plate. You never call any of us for help, even when we are so close, until it’s too late. Until you realize that you pushed yourself too far.”
Leaning up, Tamaki puts his hands on the arms of the chair as he becomes eye-level with you. “I get it now.” A soft smile curls onto his handsome features. “I’m sorry I yelled at you on the beach. You grew up without relying on anyone else.”
Your eyes had gone wide and began to shine as Tamaki stood to his full height and held a hand out to you. “But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me.
Emotion wells up in your throat, making it hard to swallow as you quickly take his palm, jumping into his arms again with vigor. You feel him chuckle against you as he lifts you up in the air for a moment before setting you on the ground, your new band aid twinkling in the moonlight. 
“So, you forgive me?” You say, wiping the small, joyful tears away before he could see. 
“If you can forgive me for comparing you to my grandmother.” 
“I was just going to ignore that. It seemed like you were on a roll there.” 
You both laugh as Tamaki hands you back the med kit. He taps the top of it with his finger. “I think you need to return this.”
A different kind of feeling stuffed your airflow now as you looked out of Tamaki’s open door to the one across the hall, a lavender rose lacing the doorknob. 
“Yeah, yeah I do.” 
Feeling your feet begin to drag across Tamaki’s carpet, you force yourself to feel lighter, invigorated by your friend’s words. “Thank you, Tamaki.” You smile up at him as you pass through his doorway. 
At your grin, Tamaki squeals in his place. “Awe, you’re so cute, mon ami! No need to thank me, no need at all!”
You simper as you flick him on the nose and close the door behind you, taking the treacherous steps towards the Shadow King’s door.
The feeling of your thumping heart began to ring through your frame, but you willed it to calm down. Looking around, you tried to spot Haruhi in her door frame, waiting for you to be done talking with Tamaki so that she could tag in, but it was so late that she might’ve just fallen asleep. You would understand, especially if her conversation with Kyoya was as emotionally taxing as yours was with Tamaki. 
Every nerve stood on end as you raised your hand to knock, but hesitated. Would he be mad if you made so much noise in the middle of the night? Plus, if he had fallen asleep, he wouldn’t just wake up with a simple knock. The man slept like the dead who had turned to stone. 
Your hand hovered over the doorknob, careful of the thorns guarding the purple rose. Did he even want to see you?
The image of his softened gaze as it dropped to your lips and then back to your eyes, shrouded in sunset as Kyoya’s hand gently lifted to your waist filled your mind, and it motivated you to turn the knob. 
You had to salvage this. All he had asked was for you to admit that you had done something wrong, and now you were prepared to do that. It had taken some convincing, but you were ready to set aside your pride. Besides, to endure another moment of his gaze without the touch of softness he saved just for you would be hell compared to a little bruise on your ego. Maybe he will forgive you for waking him up.
You cringe, knowing you’re being way too optimistic.
The door doesn’t creak, the well-oiled hinges of an Ootori household silently as you sneak into Kyoya’s bedroom, barely opening the door a smidge before you see a shadowy blob on Kyoya’s bed.
Squinting your eyes, you struggle to peer into the darkness, and you open the door another centimeter, letting the light of the hallway bring some illumination to the shadows. 
The med kit drops onto the carpet, not a sound adding to the empty soundtrack of this moment. 
Shadows merge and billow before defining into bodies. Haruhi’s pink dress comes into view as the small amount of light grasps onto her form, revealing her as she lays wide-eyed on the bed. Her back sinks into Kyoya’s comforter as she looks up, blinking mildly at the form hovering over her. 
Long tingles of darkness form into a body you admire, the man you adored caging your best friend under him like a predator. His muscles tense as his arms work to hold his body just above her, his naked torso defined in the contrast of the night. 
Haruhi says something you couldn’t possibly hear over the blood pumping through your ears, and you see a smirk curl onto his face as if she said something clever, and Kyoya drags a thumb over his lip. 
The image is burned into your skull as you race back to your bedroom, only a wall separating you and the betrayal next door. 
Haruhi and Kyoya?
Haruhi and Kyoya?
Tears now welled in your eyes as you rushed to the comfort of the bed that wasn’t your bed, in a room that wasn’t your room. 
Fuck! Your mind screams as you shove your face into your pillow, rocking back and forth as the picture of them together keeps flashing behind your eyelids, a persistent roll of film filling in all the areas you didn’t see in the dark. How their bodies must be closer now, closer than you and Kyoya ever were. 
A hiccup escaped as the pressure in your chest tightened. Kyoya’s aversion to physical touch made it so he constantly kept an arms distance from you. Yet here he was, chest to chest with your best friend who you had grown to love like a sister you never had. 
Your fingers dug into the pillow as before you threw it across the room. Yanking the covers over your head, you begged and begged anybody that was listening to turn back time. 
Turn it back to the moment on the beach chair, under the umbrella in the glow of the sunset. Rewind to Kyoya serving you your favorite food with his sleeves rolled up, or the two of you linking fingers on a piano bench, the moonlight cascading down his soft smile effortlessly. 
A hand claps over your mouth to keep any sob from passing through and sounding through the wall, and you realize that even though the ocean was outside your window, you still couldn’t find your breath.
It seems that Kyoya didn’t deserve to win those pictures after all, because the image that still pulses into your vision causes you to sink into darkness. You find a new worst fear as Kyoya’s name echoes into your mind as you become lost. 
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Next Time on Lavender Roses!
“I never noticed. Haruhi is perfectly suited to be accepted into an elite all-girl’s school.. And that’s exactly why I can’t let her transfer!”
“But (Y/n)’s been here for years, why does she want to transfer too?!”
A Challenge From Lobelia Girls Academy!
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hey there, just wanted to apologize for ruining your day and leaving you in suspense :)
thank you for being so patient, there is always more to come :) comment if you can! i'd love to hear your thoughts.
200 notes · View notes
persephone11110 · 10 months
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Still My Beautiful Angel
Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
TW: post-pregnancy, weight issues, insecurities, hurt/comfort, mention of sex,body image, mention of surgery..c-section scar, stretch marks,bradshaw babies, almost death, unhealthy societal views, slight smutty end, curse words
prompt: ❛ you look really pretty right now. ❜, credit: @nightprompts
reader nickname is Angel
this a random one-shot/ apart of FALLEN ANGEL Series
- in this fic i made carole short for caroline.— if your interested the babies name are Cobie Caroline Bradshaw , Nicholas Thomas Peter Bradshaw(pretend that flows together plZ)
- the babies are born after the uranium mission, abt 2024
I HAVE NEVER BEEN PREGNANT, SO THIS ISNT TO DISRESPECT ANYONE WHO HAS!
Standing infront of the mirror, you kept turning left and right taking in the different angles of your new body. Your eyebrows creased in disgust and disappointment it had been eight months since Cobie and Nicky. Yet your body still hadn’t gone back to like it was before the babies.
You loved the twins, but you weren’t used to seeing your body be so different for so long. Bold red lines trailed all over your stomach— covering up your once cleared skin. “I hate me”.
Your hands ran over the scar below your bellybutton, it was an ugly reminder that Bradley would had spent his week making funeral plans for three people. You almost died, the babies almost died.
“Mrs. Bradshaw, you seemed to be suffering from pre-eclampsia, the next best thing for all three of you is a emergency c-section”.
You pushed and prodded at your skin, the six pack you once had was replaced with a pouch of skin. You couldn’t explain it but the reflection of your body made you angry, made you hate your body.
You leaned your head into the mirror.
Had did you not notice?
There’s even more stretch marks on your breast’s— obviously after you went from A cup to a C cup from carrying twins. They grew with the rest of your body.
There were dark circles under your eyebags, just under a week ago the twins had entered their teething phase. And let’s just say getting sleep had been your enemy lately then rather your friend.
“What happened to me?”
It was clearly evident that your body didn’t bounce back like it was supposed to.
Probably why Bradley won’t have sex with you, he can’t and quite honestly you don’t blame him. Bradley hasn’t offered up sex since before the twins were born.
Then again every time he hinted at having sex, you would shoot that chance down, telling him you were tired, your body was exhausted.
Which weren’t lies at all— you just dragged the truth.
You were so caught up in spending your time insulting yourself you hadn’t realized Bradley’s shadow.
Bradley finished his list of chores around the house and decided it was time to join his wife for some alone time. The twins were napping peacefully— when he came upstairs he thought he be met with his a happy wife, not a wife who’s face looked digusted at her own reflection.
He was perched against the doorway frowning at the way you’d been observing yourself.
“My God”
“Y/n?”he called out and you could hear the confusion in his voice.
It caught you completely off guard. Where did he come from?
Faster than the flash, you tightly wrapped your arms around your waist— hoping to hide your new body from him. Since the twins birth the only time Bradley seen you naked is when he helped take showers and get dress. And that was hard enough.
“I need to change really quickly” you said softly, eyes on the ground.
Bradley look between you and the shirt that 2 sizes to large and the mirror.
“Angel why are you hiding from me?”, he asked you, reaching for the shirt and grabbing it so you couldn’t have it. Tears began glimmering at your eyelids— he was there for every change of your body, but having Bradley see it now made you cry.
You shook your head ashamed and embarrassed.“I don’t look the same Bradley”.
You bit the inside of your cheek. The tears that welled in your eyes were now uncontrollably running down your face.
Bradley arms were instantly around you he pulled you tighly into his chest. You cried against muscular chest— you felt safe and comfortable in his embrace.
He let go of you—“Y/n, listen to me”. Bradley’s voice was laced with sternness and authority.
Your eyes drift to his.
“Your the most beautiful thing ever— I’ve ever laid my eyes on”. Bradley dropped a kissed onto your cheek. “Whatever you think is ugly, I see them as the most prettiest thing in the world”.
He dropped another kiss onto your cheeks.“Your body protected our kids for almost ten months despite what you think, your body is so gorgeous”.
“Let me see” he requested softly. You showed no interest in moving still. “Angel” he sighed moving your arms out of the way.
“I love this body so fucking much” he wrapped his around you tightly again. “This body gave us the greatest gifts we could ever ask for”.
He saw your body as a greek sculpture.
“You know angel all this talking is making me hungry” he stood back up with of the biggest grins you ever seen him pull. “Are you hungry?”
“Bradley” you shot him a pointed look.“You might wake up Cobie and Nicky”. You told him, shooting him down.
“I’ll be quiet Y/n— I promise” he was practically begging at his point.
“You have three hours to prove it to me”.
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aurorawritestoescape · 10 months
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The Beast Within
Pairing: Dark!Ezra x f!reader
Genre: smut
Tw (dead dove): 18+, mdni, noncon but reader wants him and is ok with it, somnophilia, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, cum eating, tiny bit of ass play, Ezra is rough, overstimulation, pet names.
Summary: trekking the Green with his new partner, Ezra is overtaken by his need to have you. While you sleep in the camping tent, the animal within Ezra pushes him to act on his desires. Little does he know, you’ve wanted him as well.
Word count: 2k
A/n: filthy smut and nothing else. just needed to let it out after watching Prospect for the first time. Hope you enjoy<3
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Ezra wanted you the minute he heard it—your heavy panting in his ear coming through his headset shot straight to his cock. You two were new partners and had been trekking the Green for two days at that point, searching for Aurelac gems. You needed to get to the camping tent before it got dark, so you had to move faster. The warmth of your suit and non-stop walking made you overheat, and you were breathing hard. So as soon as he heard those pretty noises of yours, he knew that he was fucked.  From time to time, he adjusted himself as well as he could, which was difficult in the suit, but even that was making matters worse, as any touch to his cock made it ache with need. 
You were very pretty—beautiful, in fact—but your breathing right into his ear was a nail in his coffin. A couple of times, still walking forward, Ezra shut his eyes for a moment to imagine you riding his cock. Your accompaniment made it so real in his mind. At one point, you stumbled over a tree root, and your sudden breathy “Fuck!” almost made him come in his pants. The familiar animal within him had woken up and wanted you, and Ezra knew pretty well that it couldn’t be stopped. He had to get his release. 
Finally, you two got to the tent and took off your heavy suits, bulky helmets, and headsets.  Ezra didn’t hear your breaths as intensely as before, yet the desire had already nestled deep in his abdomen, making his cock strain in the confines of his sweatpants. Ezra and you ate and climbed on the bunks opposite each other. Exhausted from the journey, you immediately fell asleep. Ezra wasn’t that lucky. The images of your naked form huffing and puffing under him were flooding his mind. 
He was about to get off in secret next to his sleeping partner, but then you sighed quietly in your sleep and turned on your side, facing him. In the dark, the contour of your slightly opened lips sent electricity to his member, and in his torturous mind, he saw those lips around his throbbing cock. The beast in him took over in a flash and sprang into action. He wasn’t a good man. 
Ezra was standing in front of your sleeping body with his weeping cock in hand, just inches from your face. The human in him, albeit overtaken by the predator, questioned his actions, asking, “What the fuck are you doing?” The animal didn’t answer. He nudged your mouth with his cock and traced it with the tip. In the almost-dark he could see the precum glistening on your lips, and his whole body shivered. Ezra carefully slid his cock between your teeth, opening you up more, and a slight pain added to his pleasure. Your tongue was soft and hot, and it felt like heaven. He dropped his head back and moaned silently. He was gentle not to wake you, and when you moved your arm a little, he froze, still holding the tip in your mouth. The gods sent him a gift then. Without waking up, you glided your tongue around his bulbous head like you were dreaming about the tastiest lollipop. But the gift quickly turned into a curse as his cock twitched and a little amount of precum spilled on your tongue. That jerk, plus a salty taste, sent a signal to your brain to awaken. He saw the whites of your eyes in the dark and pulled out hastily. But you could still see him standing there with his cock out in the open. 
“What... what are you doing?” you asked quietly, and your innocent tone crushed him. There was no anger, no fear, just confusion in your raspy voice. 
Ezra dropped to his knees, sweatpants around his ankles, and cock rock hard, and took your face between his big hands. There were tears in his eyes. 
“I’m so sorry, dear. Please forgive my horrid actions; I was overpowered by the desire in my obsidian soul. I’m weak for you. So weak.” He put his head on your chest, and you could feel wetness on your skin. 
Feeling a surge of sympathy, you lifted his head and looked into his puppy eyes. You saw the need and desire there, and your body quickly mirrored them. 
The days you spent together added attraction to your partnership; something raw and carnal was growing in your gut, making you blush and tremble at every sweet nickname he gave you. Throughout your trek, you saw him glancing at you with his dark eyes, and the tingling sensation in your cunt morphed into a constant ache. You weren’t sure if he would reciprocate, but after getting rid of your suits, you saw the tent in his sweatpants and got excited. However, the exhaustion took over, and you could think of nothing else but sleep. 
After waking up and finding him consumed with desire for you, to the extent that he would take your unconscious body, the warmth in your abdomen swelled and bloomed. The taste of him on your tongue made your mouth salivate. 
“Give it to me,” you asked quietly. He furrowed his brows and stared at you with disbelief. You had to repeat yourself. “Give it to me, your cock. Fuck my mouth. I want it.”
His jaw dropped in disbelief. Still flabbergasted by your reaction to his crudeness, he was quick to oblige. He stood up and took his sweatpants off, keeping his wide and lustful eyes on you. You laid on your back, grabbed his thighs, and pulled him to yourself. Ezra obeyed and got on your bunk, placing his knees at your sides and positioning himself above your head. You lifted yourself on your elbows, reaching the hard cock in his hand. Looking up at him, you licked the tip and gave it a peck. A low rumble escaped Ezra’s chest. Then you enveloped his head with your lips and began swallowing him, swirling your tongue around. He was big, so you shifted  your weight on one elbow, spat on your hand, and grabbed the base of his cock. You began bobbing your head up and down, helping with your hand where you couldn’t reach it, and twisting it rhythmically. Ezra couldn’t take his eyes off you, breathing heavily and slightly moving his hips to meet your mouth. 
“My little deity. Gifting a brute like myself the warmth of your generous mouth,” his praise made you moan around his cock as your cunt clenched around nothing. You were drooling, and wet slurping sounds filled a small tent. It was hot inside, and his musk was making your head spin with desire and soaking through your underwear. The sweat on his thighs and stomach reflected dimmer light. 
His hand gently cupped the side of your moving head. Then his thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, collecting your drool, and he raised it to his lips to suck on it. He shut his eyes and dropped his head back. His breathing hitched, and a groan left his open mouth. Sensing that he was near the edge, you gently cupped his balls with your hand.  
“Oh, shit. Oh, shit,” he murmured and choked on his words. Still working his shaft, you saw his muscles tense, his eyes shut, and warm ropes of cum began painting the insides of your mouth. His spend was salty and bitter, and you didn’t stop sucking, mixing it with your saliva, and glazing his twitching cock with your liquids. Some of it was flowing down your throat, and you swallowed it, contracting around his tip and drawing more moans out of him. 
When Ezra stopped coming, he pulled out and saw you completely cock drunk—wet lips and chin, hazy eyes, and sweaty forehead. He quickly covered your body with his, and your back hit the bunk under you. His lips were on yours in a flash, his tongue breaching your lips and tasting his own seed in your whimpering mouth. Ezra’s realise didn’t calm the insatiable beast inside him as he continued groping, kneading, and rubbing your body and limbs. He was everywhere, as your hips shot up to meet his cock. He broke the kiss and looked into your eyes, rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb. 
“I’m tremendously grateful, my little deity. Let me repay my debt to you.” Something wild flashed in his eyes and scared you for a moment. Without waiting for your answer, Ezra sat up on his knees and peeled your sweatpants off, along with your underwear. Then he grabbed your thighs and yanked them up, placing them on his broad shoulders. You gasped, feeling cool air on your wet, naked cunt, fully exposed to his gaze. With your head on the pillow and your ass in the air, you looked up at him with widened eyes. Ezra scratched your soft inner thigh with his scruffy beard, leering at you with an animalistic grin. “Nice and tight,” he commented, and you blushed. 
He didn’t make you wait for long. His mouth darted to your core, and he began kissing your folds with vigour drawing mewls out of you. With one arm holding you up, he moved the other hand to spread your cheeks with his fingers, flattened his tongue, and licked a wet stripe from your tight ring of muscle to the slick entrance reaching your hardened clit. He sucked it in hungrily and then began rubbing and almost abusing your cunt with his tongue. The animal in him was rough and careless, and your pleasure suddenly turned into painful overstimulation. You whined and tried to reach for his forearm, which held you in place. “Hurts... too much,” you managed to mumble, and he stopped for a second, but then he sucked in  your clit between his teeth, nipped, and pulled it slightly. Tears glazed your eyes as you cried out in pain. It only made him chuckle. “Shhh… I shall kiss it better, sweetheart,” he cooed at you and returned his mouth back between your thighs. 
His skillful tongue began devouring your cunt again, but he was much gentler that time,  flicking and sucking your clit, rubbing your thighs with his calloused hands. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, slurping and swallowing your slick. You moaned  and he echoed you with a low groan vibrating through your core. “I feel your cunt beating for me; you are so close, my deity. Let’s finish it off.” With those words, he shook his head, making your lips slap, and your pleasure skyrocketed; you were dripping on him, your cream covering his beard and mustache. 
Soon you felt your walls contracting, and a wave of heat and ecstasy shot through your core. You cried out his name, gripping the covers and arching your back. Your legs were trembling, and your heart was beating fast. You gushed on his face, and he welcomed your juices, lapping up every last drop. Aftershocks were rippling through your body as Ezra was still holding you in place, resting his wet cheek on your inner thigh, taking in the sight of you unraveling because of him. 
When you stilled, he gently lowered your ass back on the bunk and laid down next to you. You were completely spent, the exhaustion of the day coming back in full force as Ezra had squeezed the last drop of your energy. He covered you both with a sheet and draped his heavy arm over your body. He nuzzled your cheek and whispered with a triumphant smile on his face, “As I was searching for treasure, I seemed to be blindly walking alongside it all that time.” You chuckled at his elevated conclusion of the filthy sex the two of you just had. He wasn’t fazed by your reaction and continued cuddling you. “Sleep, sweetheart. I assure you, I won’t bother you again tonight.” You closed your eyes and drifted off, held by your partner, who was finally satiated. 
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Tags: @unfedmind @brywolf13145 @littlegreendove @pedroswife69 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @musesofthenight
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strangerstilinski · 8 months
Text
𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐈 ✶ Teen Wolf Rewrite
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Stiles Stilinski / Original Female Character
TW | S2
chapter seven
fic summary; as if the last month and a half hadn't been stressful enough – now there were a few more werewolves, a kanima, and a seriously disturbed old man added into the mix. but amber, stiles, and scott could totally handle it. it would be fine. everything was great.
word count; 19k
warnings; the possibly triggering scene from the show with Jackson being creepy in the locker room, slight gore maybe?, eventual explicit sexual content, oral sex (both m and f), fluff fluff and more fluff
chapter notes; the group tries to figure out who's been controlling jackson all this time. ben davis makes a brief return as my own personal plot device. stiles is his typically over-dramatic self and amber is, as usual, super into it.
masterlist
c h a p t e r s e v e n
restraint
Amber's nerves had her nearly dropping her phone to the floor of her car as she climbed behind the wheel while simultaneously trying to get ahold of Stiles. Fingers of her free hand fumbled over the touchscreen, already turning her key in the ignition as the call began to ring through. Stiles was answering before the first trill through the speaker had even finished sounding out, his voice frantic.
"Why the hell haven't you been answering your phone?" He shouted through the speaker, the pitch of his voice higher than normal.
"Is Scott still with you?" She asked immediately, taking the turn off of her street a touch too quickly than was probably good for her tires, "Because I was just with Lydia and-"
"Jackson escaped." Scott's voice supplied through the phone.
"He what?" Amber squeaked, letting off the clutch to shift gears and increase the speed of the car that much more, "Guys he's not-"
"Yeah, he got out and the asshole went straight to the police," Stiles told her, "His dad's here and my dad's pissed and Scott's mom is on her way down to the station."
"You guys are at the station?" She cursed, slamming on the breaks so she could make a messy three point turn and backtrack in the direction of the Sheriff's station.
"Yeah, and we're totally screwed," Stiles was telling her as she reoriented her car in the right direction, "My dad said the Whittemore's are filing a restraining order against Scott and I. As soon as Scott's mom gets here my dad has to read out the terms and-"
"Stiles!" Amber interrupted sharply, "That sucks but it's not important right now, okay? Lydia translated part of the kanima entry from the bestiary-"
"How'd she do that?" Scott cut in.
"She knows Archaic Latin, Scott. Now shut up and listen to me," Amber snapped as she turned onto the next street, "Mrs. Morrell translated it wrong! The kanima doesn't seek a friend, alright? The kanima seeks a master! Which means someone's controlling Jackson-"
"Woah, what?" Stiles exclaimed through the speaker.
"Stiles, you said that Jackson still didn't believe you when you were explaining everything to him earlier, right?" She asked, shifting gears as she went around a sharp corner.
"Yeah, pretty much." Stiles agreed.
"Well, so- If Jackson doesn't know what he's doing then he must not know someone's even controlling him." Amber deduced.
"Or he doesn't remember." Scott supplied.
"What if it's the same kinda thing that happened with Lydia when she took off from the hospital?" Stiles questioned.
"Right!" Amber recalled, "Like a fugue state-"
Scott's voice came through the phone again, "But then he'd have to forget everything.. The murder-"
"Getting rid of all the blood-" Amber offered up, an image flashing behind her eyes of Jackson's bloodied body at the nightclub. She thought of how he would've had to have washed the blood away himself after he'd killed Tucker, and Isaac's dad, and then the hunter-
"Yeah," Stiles agreed, "He had help with one thing though.. The video. Someone else helped him forget that." He reminded them of the erased footage.
"Whoever's controlling him." Scott said quietly.
The tires of Amber's car squealed quietly in protest as she peeled into the parking lot at the station and jerked to a slightly crooked stop between the painted white lines.
"Jackson thinks that being with Lydia somehow made him immune and, like, delayed the whole werewolf bite thing-" Amber told them, throwing herself from the vehicle and nearly falling to the pavement in her haste to slam the door shut behind her, "Where exactly are you guys?"
"What d'you mean?" Stiles asked in confusion as Amber pushed the front door to the station open, "I told you we're down at the station-"
"Yeah, so am I," She panted slightly, adrenaline still pumping in her veins from the wild drive from her house, "So where are you guys?"
She let her phone drop from her ear to her shoulder as she stepped up to the door that led to the interrogation rooms, only to find the door locked, the handle stiff and unmoving when she jiggled it. She turned to cast an incredulous look at the female deputy who was watching her from behind the front desk and Amber gestured wildly at the door with her free hand.
"Tara, I know you recognize me," Amber said in exasperation, "C'mon, buzz me in-"
Tara frowned, slowly eyeing the girl's frazzled state, but pressed her finger down on the button to unlock entry into the hallway. Amber sighed gratefully as she rushed through, nearly running straight into Stiles' chest when she stepped into the hall at the same time that he and Scott stumbled out of the room at the front end of the corridor.
"Jesus!" She exclaimed in surprise as her boyfriend's hands came up to steady her.
She abandoned her phone completely, ending the call and shoving it into her pocket as she looked at her best friends.
"We need to find out who's controlling him." Scott quietly continued their conversation from before.
"D'you think he'll talk to us?" Amber questioned, "I mean.. After what we did? Kidnapping him and all?"
Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, it's us. He'll talk to us," He nodded before catching Amber's unsure frown, "..Right?"
It was at that moment that Sheriff Stilinski stepped out from a room further down the hall and cast a disappointed look at the three teens.
"Scott, your mom just pulled in. So, you boys get your asses into this room," He said firmly, "Now."
Stiles and Scott lowered their heads and followed the order, moving down the hall and into the larger interrogation room. Ms. McCall hurried past Amber only a moment later and the girl immediately moved to follow but Sheriff Stilinski held up a hand in signal for her to stop.
"No." He said simply.
Amber spluttered, taking another aborted step forward, "Wh- But- If I could just-"
"This doesn't concern you," He told her firmly before raising his eyebrows in question, "Does it?"
"Um.. No?" She told him cautiously.
"Then you stay out here." He said, giving her a serious look before moving into the room himself, leaving the door into the hallway open behind him.
Amber moved to the edge of the doorway, attempting to listen closely to what was going on just on the other side of the wall. Ms. McCall hovered at the edge of the room, her arms crossed over the scrub top she was still wearing after having rushed down to the station straight from work.
"Scott. Stiles. This is going to apply to both of you, so listen to me very closely," The Sheriff said in a stern voice, "You will not go within fifty feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him.. You will not approach him.. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically."
"What about school?" Stiles questioned immediately.
His father sighed, "You both can attend classes while attempting to maintain a fifty foot distance."
Amber shook her head, unsure how such a thing was possible when they shared so many classes with the other boy in addition to lacrosse.
"Bu- Okay, what if we both have to use the bathroom at the same time-" Stiles started, words rambling together quickly as Amber clenched her eyes shut and silently willed him to stop talking while he continued, "-And there's only two stalls available, and those two stalls are right next to each other?"
There was a brief silence and Amber brought her fingers up to pinch the bridge of her nose in exasperation.
"-I'll just hold it." Stiles said quietly after a few moments.
A few minutes later, Stiles' father was leading him out of the room with a hand fisted in the collar of the boy's sweatshirt, "Do I need to remind you how lucky we are that they're not pressing charges?" The Sheriff demanded.
"Oh, come on! It was a joke!" Stiles attempted to justify their actions.
Amber had to physically fight the urge to press the palm of her hand against her forehead in vexation.
"It was a joke?" Sheriff Stilinski repeated incredulously.
"Yes!" Stiles agreed quickly, "I didn't think it would be taken this seriously. Dad, humor's very subjective, okay? We're talking, like, multiple levels of interpretation here."
His father's gaze cut to Amber and she stepped forward slowly as if pulled by the weight of his glare.
"You and Stiles have a pretty similar sense of humor," Sheriff Stilinski pointed out, "How would you interpret the situation? You think it was funny?" He questioned sternly.
"I, um.." She bit down on her lip as her eyes bounced between her boyfriend and his father, "Not.. Not wildly funny."
'Traitor' Stiles motioned with his lips silently, shaking his head at her cowardice under his father's attention.
"Uh huh," Sheriff Stilinski looked between them with narrowed eyes for a moment before refocusing on his son, "Well, uh, how exactly am I supposed to interpret the stolen prison transport van, huh?"
Stiles spluttered, hands waving around wildly, "We filled the tank!"
His father raised his hands with a deep breath as he stepped away, removing himself from the conversation entirely with a shake of his head and leaving the two of them alone in the narrow hall.
"A prank?" Amber hissed, landing a hard punch to her boyfriend's shoulder, "You told them it was a prank?"
"What? Like you had a better excuse lined up?" He questioned while he rubbed at the sore spot on his arm. Amber's face pinched as she tried to quickly come up with something and Stiles nodded at her after a few seconds of silence, "Yeah, that's what I thought, smartass."
Her eyes narrowed at his words, "You are infuriating sometimes, y'know that?" She muttered quietly.
Stiles' lips pulled into a slow grin, his cheek dimpling as his eyes flicked over her frustrated expression. He noted the way she'd petulantly crossed her arms before his gaze trailed back up to her face, "Infuriating in a way that kinda makes you wanna kiss me to shut me up?" He questioned in quiet optimism.
She glared despite the flutter in her stomach at his words, "No."
Stiles took a step closer, his palms dragging softly up and down over her upper arms, "You sure? Because I could keep saying infuriating things if that'll-"
"Move!" Ms. McCall yelled at her son sharply as she shoved him out of the interrogation room and they stepped out into the hall, "It's not just this. Although, a restraining order is a new low that I didn't think you would reach quite this soon." She scolded loudly.
Amber and Stiles both winced as Scott followed closely behind his mother, the family unit walking a few steps past where the couple had been loitering.
"-It's everything on top of it!" Ms. McCall continued, spinning around to face her son with a disappointed look, "The completely bizarre behavior, the late nights coming home, having to beg Mr. Harris to let you make up that Chemistry test that you missed-"
"I missed a Chemistry test?" Scott questioned in genuine confusion.
"Really, Scott? Really?" His mother shook her head with a deep sigh, "I- I have to ground you. I'm grounding you. You.. Are grounded."
Amber blinked in surprise. She couldn't remember a single time in their lives when Scott's mom had been angry enough with him to do such a thing. He'd been punished, sure – lots of times – but never to the point of a grounding.
"What about work?" Scott questioned immediately.
"Fine. Other than work." His mother acquiesced, "And no TV." She added as an afterthought.
Scott merely shrugged, "My TV's broken."
Amber shook her head silently and tried to catch his eye, pleading for her best friend to shut up.
"Then no computer." Ms. McCall said easily.
"..I need the computer for school." Scott said slowly.
His mother's face pinched in annoyance, "Then no, uh.." Her gaze drifted over Scott's shoulder, eyes catching on her son's best friends. Her face seemed to light up with an idea, "No Stiles and no Amber."
Amber squeaked in protest, "Wh-"
"No Stiles?" Stiles repeated, voice high.
"No! No Stiles! No Amber!" Ms. McCall repeated with more authority than before, looking back to her son again, "And no more car privileges. Give me your key-"
Scott reared a small step back in response to his mother's words, "But-"
"Give 'em to me!" Ms. McCall snapped.
Scott pulled his keyring from the pocket of his jeans and handed it over weakly. The three teens all watched his mother pulled frantically at the split ring, trying to separate the pieces enough to slip the car key off of the loop with clumsy fingers and working herself up further the more that she struggled.
"Oh, for the love of God." Ms. McCall muttered with a frustrated sniffle.
Scott reached out toward her with caution, "Mom, do you want me to-"
"No." His mother snapped.
"Mom, come on. Just let me- Mom!" Scott pleaded, his hand wrapping around her shaking ones to grip the keys, "Mom."
Ms. McCall sniffled again and Amber took a small step back, her knuckles knocking lightly against Stiles' before he tangled their fingers together wordlessly.
"What is going on with you?" Ms. McCall asked quietly, "Is this about Allison?"
Scott turned his head to shoot his friends a pleading look and Amber instinctively chewed at her lower lip, knowing exactly how badly Scott wanted to come clean about all of the supernatural crap that had suddenly infiltrated their lives.
"Do you really wanna know?" Scott asked his mom slowly.
Stiles began to shake his head vehemently at Scott as Ms. McCall begged her son to explain what his problem was. Scott looked to his friends desperately once more and Amber gave him a small shrug as Stiles continued to silently display his disapproval.
"-Is this about your dad?" Ms. McCall asked weakly.
The question seemed to catch him off guard and Scott was still trying to decide on his next words when his mom continued.
"It is, isn't it?" Her gaze caught on Amber and Stiles still hovering just a few feet away and her posture straightened up with a final sniffle, "Okay, you know what? Um, we'll talk about this at home. I'm- I'm gonna go get the car."
They all watched her go with varying expressions of dismay and Scott waited until the door at the end of the hallway sealed shut with a click before turning to face his friends fully.
"I'm the worst son ever." Scott said with a shattered look.
"Well, I'm not exactly winning any prizes either." Stiles countered easily.
"It's gonna be okay," Amber assured them, her voice coming out sounding less firm than she'd intended, "It- It is gonna be okay, right?" She asked after a moment as she looked between them anxiously.
Stiles wrapped his arm around her neck, their joined hands coming up to rest at her shoulder as he pulled her into his chest, words muffled slightly in her hair, "Yeah. Yeah, everything's gonna be fine."
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Upon arriving home, Amber was entirely surprised to find her brother standing in their living room. His shift had only started at the fire station a few hours before, so she wasn't expecting to see him for another eighteen hours, but he was currently dragging his feet across the hardwood restlessly as he paced back and forth across the space.
His attention snapped up at the sound of the front door closing as Amber dropped her keys onto the table in the entryway, his face pinching in a tight frown the moment his gaze found her.
"Jase..?" She asked cautiously as she toed off her shoes, "Is uh, is everything okay?"
"Get in here. And sit." He demanded, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the couch.
"Okay.." She said slowly, stepping into the room, "What's-"
"Amber Evangeline Callisto-"
The girl's eyes widened at the use of her full name, something she was nearly certain she hadn't heard in a scolding since their mother had been alive.
"-Sit. Down." Jason finished sternly, the volume of his voice was wholly surprising and Amber's butt landed on the couch immediately.
"I- Um, I'm going to take a wild guess from the fact that you're, y'know, here, and the deeply pissed off look on your face.. And assume that Sheriff Stilinski called you?" She pulled her socked feet up underneath herself on the cushions nervously, eyes focused on her brother's stiff jaw as he clenched it in anger.
Jason ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as he looked around the room and neither confirmed nor denied her assumtion, "Am I supposed to confiscate your phone and take away your car keys?" He questioned frantically, "Lock you in your bedroom and just.. Homeschool you? Is that what it's gonna take to keep your ass out of trouble, or what?"
She balked, "I- I'm not even in trouble! Jackson only filed for restraining orders against-"
"If you honestly think that I am gonna believe you didn't have anything to do with this so-called 'joke' your knucklehead best friends pulled-" He took an angry breath that sounded loudly through his nose, "Do you think that I'm stupid? Or just insanely fucking unobservant?"
"Well, I -"
"Amber, I am fucking trying here, okay?" His voice cracked and Amber felt a little like her heart might have cracked too as she watched her brother's internal struggle, "I feel like I'm just watching you kids spiral out of control and I don't know what I'm supposed to do about it-"
"You don't- You're not doing anything wrong-"
"Well clearly I am!" He yelled suddenly. His own shout seemed to catch him off guard and he sat down on the edge of the coffee table in front of her with a sigh, "I- I don't know what I'm doing. It's been four years and I still feel like I'm fucking drowning sometimes, trying to be your parent and your brother at the same time."
"I'm sorry." She spoke quietly, her voice thick with unshed tears as her eyes welled.
"I don't want you to apologize. I want you to stop getting into trouble.. To stop showing up at all of these crime scenes, and inserting yourself into murder investigations, and-"
"I- I don't know what to say." She admitted quietly as a few tears broke free and rolled down her cheeks.
Even she were to try and explain, Amber didn't know where she could possibly start.
She could start with Derek; how he'd come back into town and started showing up everywhere all suspicious-like before revealing that he was a werewolf and that Scott was no longer her sweet best friend, but instead, a genuine danger to be around. She could tell him about Peter; explain that he hadn't been as weak and incapacitated as everyone had initially thought and that, really, this whole thing had all started with him. She could mention how Allison's family played into it all; the heinous things her aunt had done before her demise and all of the things her father and grandfather were still a part of now. She could tell her brother about all of the new teenage werewolves running around town and the murderous rampage her classmate had unknowingly undertaken and okay, yes, she'd helped kidnap him but they'd had no other choice because Jackson was seriously dangerous and he didn't even know what he was doing-
Amber couldn't find it in her to voice any of those things, however. Instead, she gnawed on her lower lip and sniffled quietly as she guiltily avoided her brother's gaze, settling back into the couch with the acceptance that the evening was only destined to get more difficult.
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"Did Lydia finish translating the entry about the kanima?" A hushed voice questioned from only a few inches behind Amber, causing the girl to flinch in surprise.
"Jesus," Amber exclaimed as she spun around, locker door slamming shut when her shoulder collided with the cool metal, "A bell. You need a bell."
Allison rolled her eyes with a fond smile and crossed her arms over her chest, "Well? Did she?"
With a nod of her head, Amber pulled a crisp, brand new composition notebook from her bag and held it out toward the other girl.
"She did. I went over first thing this morning to get it. She's, uh, pretty annoyed with us, but she did it."
Allison studied the words on the pages with determined focus for a few moments before pulling a tablet from her own bag and motioning for Amber to hold the journal for her. Amber dutifully held her arms out to display the pages, flipping through them slowly as Allison photographed the information to create a digital copy.
"Have you shown Scott or Stiles yet?" Allison asked as she finished.
Amber slapped the book shut and slipped it back into her bookbag with a shake of her head, "I was on my way now. They're waiting in the library."
"I'll come with you." Allison said easily, adjusting the strap of her shoulder bag and moving in the direction of the library while still studying the photographs she'd taken of the notebook pages.
As they pushed through the double-doors, Amber's eyes peered through the spaces between bookshelves, flicking over the students spread out at tables trying to finish up last minute assignments before the start of morning classes.
She toyed with her lower lip between her teeth as she searched for her best friends and when she finally spotted them, Scott and Stiles were tucked at the back of one of the stacks having a hushed conversation. As she approached, hand absentmindedly dragging over her boyfriend's shoulder and up to his neck, her fingertips dug into his skin softly as she stepped up beside them.
Her backpack hit the ground at the base of the bookshelf and their attention turned to her, Stiles' eyebrows raising a fraction as he took her in for the first time that morning.
"Hello," He greeted with emphasis, reaching out until the backs of his fingers could skim over the soft material of her sundress, "You're looking spring-y."
He pinched the hem between his thumb and forefinger, his knuckles brushing against the smooth skin of her bare thigh as he idly rubbed at the fabric.
"Thanks," She said somewhat breathlessly. Her own hand dropped to wrap lightly around his wrist in warning and she waited until he let the skirt fall back down against her legs before she continued, "I, uh, I'm trying to manifest warmer weather or something."
His lips pulled into a small smile and she felt slightly overwhelmed by the butterflies that bloomed in her stomach.
"Well, you look really beautiful." He told her softly.
"Can you guys be disgusting later?" Scott interjected in clear impatience.
The couple flinched as they were torn from the romance-heady bubble they'd somehow managed to slip into.
Amber was quick to recover and she laced her fingers with Stiles as her eyes narrowed in Scott's direction, "You're just jealous because of the whole Romeo and Juliet thing that means you can't flirt with your girlfriend unless it's in a dark creepy corridor or, like, a janitor's closet-"
"Ha," Stiles said in amusement, seconding her assessment, "What she said. The green monster's not a great look on you, buddy-"
A soft throat clearing from the other side of the bookshelf caught Amber's attention and she spotted Allison peering through a gap from the next aisle over.
"Lydia's translations.." Allison prompted gently as she pulled a book from the shelf and pretended to look at it in interest.
"Right, yeah," Amber nodded, "So Lydia gave me her translations this morning. She was up pretty late last night writing it all down for me-"
"Apparently she's not thrilled about still being left in the dark." Allison supplied quietly, sliding her tablet through the gap in books so that Scott and Stiles could peer down at the photographs she'd taken of the translated pages.
"Oh, yeah," Scott realized as his gaze found Amber, "What'd you tell her?"
Amber winced, rolling her shoulders and tightening her fingers around Stiles' hand, "Um, I'm only about thirty percent confident she bought it.. But I, uh- I told her we were a part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures."
Stiles perked up, "I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." He said quietly, the words fanning out over his girlfriend's neck as he peered down at the tablet.
A breathy laugh slipped from her lips and she knocked her hip against his lightly, "Yeah, I know. I helped you figure out that part with the evil goblins, remember?"
"They were actually gnomes." Stiles corrected immediately.
Scott was shaking head at his friends in clear exasperation, "Okay, does it say how to find out who's controlling Jackson?" He questioned in an attempt to redirect the conversation.
"Not from what I read." Allison frowned, swapping the book in her hands for another as she tried to hide the fact that she was conversing with them.
"But Stiles was right about the murderers." Amber revealed.
"Yes!" He cheered excitedly, dropping his girlfriend's hand to punch the air at the small victory.
Scott and Allison both narrowed their eyes at him for his slightly too loud reaction and his hands slowly lowered under the weight of their glare. Amber shuffled closer as he deflated and his arm slipped beneath her cardigan to wrap around her waist, pulling her into his side as she continued to share the information she'd recently obtained.
"The bestiary calls the kanima a 'weapon of vengeance'," She recited quietly, "There's a story in there about this South American priest who used the kanima to execute murderers in his village-"
"Alright, see?" Stiles interrupted, "That's not so bad."
Amber leaned more heavily against him with a grimace, "-Until their bond grew so strong that it eventually just killed whoever he wanted it to. Murderer or not." She finished.
"All bad," Stiles backtracked, "All very, very bad."
"Thing is, though-" Amber continued quietly, dragging her finger lightly over a sentence displayed on the tablet, "The kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf. But, it can't be until-"
"'Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it.'" Scott read aloud.
"Okay, if that means Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy, I could've told you that myself." Stiles said with a roll of his eyes.
Amber sighed, "Yeah, no shit. The guy's basically unresolved anger and toxic masculinity all wrapped up in a stupidly handsome bow-"
"Euck, handsome?" Stiles repeated with a displeased frown.
"Oh, be quiet," She scolded him, turning in his grip to brush her lips lightly over the corner of his mouth, "You're the most handsome." She whispered quietly against his cheek.
With a satisfied huff, Stiles slid his arm up around her shoulders to tug her back against his chest, releasing his exhale into the loose waves of her hair to hide his grin.
"What if it has to do with Jackson's parents?" Allison pondered, "He's adopted, right? So maybe its something to do with his real parents."
Scott nodded in agreement, "Does anybody actually know what happened to them?" He questioned, eyes flicking to Amber curiously as he spoke.
"I mean.. I know he never really knew them. He was adopted as a baby. Like, really young, I'm pretty sure-" She said slowly, face pinched up in thought, "But, I- Lydia might know more."
"Great," Stiles nodded, "You guys talk to Lydia and Scott and I'll talk to Jackson-"
"Nope. Not gonna work." Amber interrupted with a shake of her head. "Restraining order." She reminded him.
He sighed in annoyance, "God, fine. Then what-"
"During free period, you go talk to Lydia," She told Stiles, "Allison and I will team up to talk to Jackson. And Scott-" The boy in question looked at her with wide eyes, ready for whatever job his best friend was about to dole out, "Scott's gonna go and ace his Chem make-up test."
He made a face like he was going to argue but his girlfriend cut in quickly.
"Scott, she's right." Allison said softly, reaching through the gap in the bookshelf to take Scott's hand.
He sighed in reluctance, "If he does anything, you both run the other way." He said seriously, looking back and forth between the two girls.
"We can take care of ourselves." Allison whispered with a frown.
"I'm serious," Scott whispered, "If either one of you gets hurt while I'm taking some stupid test, someone's gonna need to take care of me," His jaw clenched, hand tightening around Allison's as his eyes continued to bounce between them, "If he does anything-"
Amber scoffed, "Like-?"
"Anything.. Weird. Bizarre. Anything-"
"Anything evil." Stiles interrupted finally, arm tightening around his girlfriend.
"We'll be fine," Amber told both boys, "This is serious, okay? If either of you guys get in trouble for breaking the restraining order, it could mean serious, like, legal consequences. And, Scott, You know you need to retake this test to bring your grade up." She said firmly.
Scott groaned but nodded, pulling his backpack onto his shoulders as they all slowly broke away from one another and filed out of the library.
"We, uh.. We're totally sure it's safe for you and Allison to be talking to Jackson alone?" Stiles worried privately as they stopped in front of his locker.
"We'll be fine," She assured him in a soft voice, "And besides, it's kind of our only option right now-"
"Yeah. Because those are reassuring words." Stiles muttered sarcastically, yanking his locker open to grab his books for English.
"Okay, worry wort. I'm pretty sure we've established that he doesn't actually want to kill any of us," She reminded him as he slammed the metal door shut again, "I mean, if he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead like three times over at this point, right?"
His face scrunched in clear reluctance to agree with her, "Yeah, I guess."
She reached out to cup the side of his face, her thumb skimming over the tiny constellation of moles that created a path toward his mouth. The tip of her finger had barely brushed the corner of his lips when Stiles leaned in to press them to her own in a quick kiss.
As they finally turned to head in the direction of the English classroom, they only managed to get a few steps from Stiles' locker before a familiar voice was calling out loudly behind them.
"Stilinski! Amber! Wait, I- Hold up!"
They both turned as there was a loud crash. Ben Davis slammed his shoulder into the lockers beside them in what both looked and sounded like a painful collision. He rubbed at his shoulder with a frown as he righted himself and looked between Amber and Stiles wide-eyed.
"Davis," Stiles greeted with a wince, "Listen, if this is about the ball that almost hit you in the junk this morning at practice, you should know that I haven't perfected my backhand and I swear it was-"
Ben shook his head in surprise, "What? No. Stilinski, you're fine." He assured the other boy before turning his attention toward Amber, "I actually, really need to talk to you, if that's cool-"
She frowned at the urgency in his voice and began to step forward when Stiles pulled her back with a hand fisted in her cardigan.
"And what exactly do you need to talk to my girlfriend about?" Stiles questioned suspiciously.
"I, uh-" Ben's gaze flicked between them nervously, "Just.. A thing?"
Amber held up a finger in a signal for Ben to give her a moment and spun around to face Stiles, stepping close to give them more privacy as she spoke, "Stiles. Babe, I'll catch up with you in a few?" She whispered in question.
His eyes flicked between her and the spot over her shoulder where Ben was standing behind her and a small noise of distress slipped past her boyfriend's lips.
"But he-" When Amber brought a hand up to rest on his shoulder, he continued in a whisper of his own, "I could stay.. Just as backup, y'know. In case you need me. In case he tries to make a move or-"
Ben's snort of laughter from behind her let them know that he'd heard the hushed comment.
"Dude, when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about between me and Amber-" Ben started in amusement, "I am very, like, keenly aware of how into you she is. I know we went on a date but I mean, she literally said-"
Amber could tell that he was only a second away from bringing up her embarrassing slip of tongue at the end of their tragic date the month before and she turned her head to shoot him a warning glare, causing Ben's words to cut off sharply. When she deemed it safe, she turned back to Stiles again.
"You're sweet and it is stupidly cute, but you really don't need to worry about Ben, alright?" She said even more quietly.
Stiles' lips pulled up reluctantly, "Yeah, okay."
She couldn't hold back a grin, endlessly endeared by his protectiveness. She leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips before giving him a pat on his cheek, "Okay, cool. So I'll catch up with you later then."
Stiles pinched her chin between his forefinger and thumb to tip her head back up again and she went easily. Their lips met in another kiss, this one lingering for a moment before she pushed him away with a flustered laugh.
"Alright, I'm going!" Stiles said, raising his hands in surrender as he turned to leave.
When she turned to face Ben again, she was still sporting a faint blush and giddy smile that wouldn't seem to fade.
"So, what's up? What's the gossip?" She joked, hoping to lighten the mood when she noticed the stressed expression on his face once again.
"I wanted to talk to you about Matt." He said in a hushed voice.
"Daehler?" She asked curiously, frowning when he nodded, "What about him?"
Ben wiped his hands on his jeans as if his palms were sweaty and he looked around them cautiously before speaking, "I, uh.. I saw some pictures on his camera that were kinda.. Um. Well, they were of you-"
"Oh!" She relaxed, "That's what you're all worked up about? It's fine. I know about the pictures."
Ben blinked, faltering for a moment, "You.. You know about the pictures?" He repeated slowly.
"Yeah," She waved off, "He's good with a camera.. It's art — No big deal. It's kinda flattering, honestly, the way he knows how to frame his pictures just right? It's like I'm a model or something except, y'know, all his photos are candid."
"So.." Ben drew out the word, eyes squinting in disbelief, "You know he's been taking these.. Candid pictures, and you're.. Cool with it?" He asked slowly.
She reached out to pat Ben on his broad shoulder with a laugh, "Yes. I'm totally cool with it. He was worried I would think it was creepy, but like I said, it's art. I can appreciate that, y'know? I was actually thinking that if he gets another really good one, I might ask for a copy? Get it printed out and maybe I could frame it and give it to Stiles as a part of his birthday present or something.. That might be cool.." She shook her head as she began to get lost in her thoughts, laughing again quietly, "Anyway, my point is, don't worry about it."
Ben's previously tense shoulders seemed to slump in relief, "I- Okay, then. I just- My bad, I guess." He blew out a long breath through his lips and shrugged awkwardly.
"I seriously appreciate your concern, though," She said honestly, "It was really cool of you to come to me."
He nodded with a serious look, "Yeah, of course. I'm just glad I came to you first instead of, like, immediately confronting Matt and giving him shit about it-"
"Oh, god, yeah!" She nodded in realization.
Ben shook his head, taking a small step back, "Right. So, y'know.. See ya later-"
She waved and bid him goodbye, watching him go with a small smile, grateful that things had been cleared up.
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When free period rolled around, Amber and Allison followed as stealthily as they could manage behind Jackson, lurking in the nonexistent shadows as they waited for the right moment to corner him. They kept a safe distance as he walked into the east wing of the school, heading toward the locker rooms and the gymnasium, on his way to get more lacrosse in even after the team's morning practice.
As they entered the more deserted area of the school, devoid of voices and the laughter that had drowned out their steps before, Allison slipped her heels off to quiet her footfalls beside Amber, opting to hold them in her hand instead.
The two girls loitered as he practiced shooting on goal with Danny. When they finally headed back inside, the girls peeked around a corner to watch Jackson enter the boy's locker room as Danny headed in the opposite direction down the hall.
Amber reached for the door handle as they got to the already closed locker room door, but both girls reeled back in shock and a touch of fear when it swung open from the other side just as Amber's fingers brushed the metal.
"You just scared the hell out of me!" Matt Daehler laughed as he exited the locker room while Amber tried to calm her now-racing heart.
"Sorry!" She apologized with a breathless laugh, "Holy shit. I, uh- We we're just-"
"-Nothing," Allison interrupted weakly, "We were just, um, nothing.."
Matt blinked at them in confusion and shook his head, gaze dropping down to the shoes still clutched between Allison's fingers, "Uh, nice heels." He commented with a curious eyebrow raise.
"Oh!" Allison realized, having forgotten she was holding the footwear at all, "Yeah, uh-"
"Her feet were hurting." Amber supplied quickly.
Matt shrugged with a grin, "Same reason I never wear mine." He agreed jokingly.
Amber laughed in surprised amusement and Matt's smile seemed to brighten at the sound.
"Uh, hey.. Did you hear about the underground show?" He asked, eyes focused solely on Amber as he fiddled with the strap of the backpack over his shoulder, "Apparently they've got some big names spinning."
"Spinning-?" Amber repeated the word in confusion.
"Yeah, y'know.. DJ's." Matt clarified.
The pieces clicked together slowly in Amber's mind, "Oh, like a.. Rave?"
Matt scoffed with a smile, "Is it still a rave if you don't roll?" He questioned, "I just call it a party but- Hey! I've got a friend who can hook us up with tickets, if you're down. Y-you want me to get you one?" He asked her hopefully.
"Oh, um-" She frowned, "I don't- I mean, y'know Stiles and I are together-"
"Oh sure, yeah," Matt interrupted, "No, I know, but.. We could still go together as friends, right?"
Amber hesitated, "I mean, yeah, but- Parties like that aren't really my-"
"It'd be really fun, I swear." He promised with a hopeful smile.
Allison nudged at Amber's shoulder anxiously with a nod toward the locker room door to remind Amber of the task at hand.
"I, um- Just as friends?" Amber repeated quickly.
"Yeah, yeah. Just friends," Matt agreed, "I, uh, I could get both of you a ticket?" He suggested, gaze finally drifting over to Allison.
"Uh, fine, yeah," Amber agreed finally, her eyes flicking anxiously toward the locker room, "Sure."
"Cool! Um, it's Friday so I'll get the tickets and-" Matt stepped around them to begin his retreat down the hallway toward the main part of the building, "-Looking forward to it."
As he disappeared around a corner, Amber locked eyes with Allison and saw the other girl was frowning, "That kinda sounded like a date." Allison said quietly.
Amber scoffed, "Which part, exactly? The part where we talked about how I have a boyfriend, the part where we both agreed to go just as friends, or the part where he offered to get you a ticket too?"
Allison's lips were parted with a retort at the ready when there was a sudden ragged coughing from inside the locker room as if Jackson were choking.
"Shit-! Go get Scott," Amber told Allison with wide eyes. The other girl looked like she wanted to fight her on it and Amber shook her head as Jackson's choked noises grew more pained, "Alli, come on. He could be either hurt or going full kanima in there- I'm serious. Jackson won't hurt me but you need to go and get Scott. He's more attuned to you anyway, he'll probably hear you coming before you even get out of the stairwell."
Allison scrunched her face, "Fine. Just.. Be careful." She huffed before turning to run down the hallway.
Amber dropped her unzipped backpack to the ground carelessly, throwing the locker room door open with a bang as she stumbled through the doorway. She listened for sounds of distress, but the noises that Jackson had been making only moments before were gone, now replaced with the quiet sound of running water from the showers at the far side of the room.
"Jackson?" She called out cautiously, slightly worried for the boy as she moved through the rows of lockers in search, "Jackson?"
"In here." Jackson's voice supplied casually from the direction of the showers.
Amber's feet carried her that much faster, converse slapping against the tiles as she headed toward his voice. As she rounded the lockers and came to a stop in the entryway of the showers, she stumbled over her feet in surprise, quickly spinning away at the sight of Jackson's very naked body beneath the spray, staring in her direction with a blank, unaffected gaze.
Amber was staring at the row of lockers across from her with wide eyes as she leaned against the tile wall outside of the showers.
"Something wrong?" He questioned from behind her.
"I- Shit, Jackson!" She exclaimed in disbelief, "A little bit of warning when your dick is out, maybe?"
There was a high-pitched creak as he turned the knob to cut off the flow of hot water and Amber tried desperately to erase the image of Jackson's privates from her brain.
"You're the one who walked into the boy's locker room." He pointed out blankly.
"Wh- I thought I heard you-" She began to defend automatically, thinking back on the horrifying choking noises she'd heard from the hallway, "I mean, I thou- Whatever. Nevermind." She shook her head.
"Did you want to talk about something?" He questioned, his voice sounding from directly behind her now, prompting her to flinch in surprise at his close proximity.
"I- Yeah, but we can-" She huffed out a disbelieving breath as she began to step past him, "We can talk later-"
"No-" Jackson's arm shot out in front of her, his palm pressing against the tile as he caged her back against the tiled wall outside of the showers. Amber immediately forced her eyes upward to avert them from his still-naked body as it dripped with water. She was staring up at the ceiling while he quickly continued, "-Let's talk now."
Her gaze fell to his and she watched Jackson's jaw clench as he glared at her with an especially dark look. She found her heart stuttering slightly in her chest at the coldness behind his eyes.
She licked her lips in thought, "You know? I, uh- I actually should probably start heading to my next class-"
"Oh, no, no-" His face pulled into an irritated snarl and he immediately blocked her attempt to step around him, "No, you don't. You have perfect grades. You can skip one class."
She swallowed audibly at the sudden closeness of the boy's wet body to her own, their torsos practically brushing against one another. A small flash of fear filled her and she felt suddenly stupid for being so blinded by the noises that had sent her barreling into the locker room worried for Jackson's well-being and unafraid of the kanima.
The way Jackson was acting now – the way he was looking at her – It had her feeling suddenly afraid of him for reasons entirely unrelated to the kanima-fueled dangers that she'd mentally prepared herself for earlier in the day.
His gaze fell to her sternum and his lips pulled into a smirk before his eyes returned to hers, "You okay?" He asked condescendingly, "Your heart's beating like crazy."
"I'm fine." She said in a rush as she moved past him, her eyes glued to the tense lines of his body as she began to back away slowly.
"I thought you wanted to talk?" Jackson questioned teasingly, raising his eyebrows and matching her steps.
"I, uh, ch- Changed my mind." She stumbled as she spoke when she backed into one of the wooden changing benches, arms flailing for a moment as she caught her balance.
"You sure? Because you look a little stressed-" His face contorted into anger again and Amber took a shaky breath, still backing away as he continued, "Is it Stilinski? Things falling apart between you two already?"
She shook her head slightly, lips parting to speak but cut off before she could say anything.
"-Can't say it would surprise me. It's not like you two are gonna last," Jackson scoffed meanly, "You know that one day, he and Scott are gonna decide they don't need a little cunt like you always dragging them down. I mean, what teenage guy honestly wants a chick for a best friend, huh? Now that Stilinski's gotten into your pants, it's really only a matter of time."
His words cut deeper than they probably should have, and she was surprised to find her back thumping blindly against the far wall of the locker room. Amber's eyes went wide when she realized she'd unintentionally caged herself again, Jackson's naked frame towering over her as he stepped close enough that patches of her dress darkened with the water from his still dripping body.
"You're being a dick." She told him.
Jackson scoffed cruelly, "I'm being honest. And if you don't realize that then you gotta be the stupidest bitch in this town. Well, other than Scott and Stiles because they seem to be pretty stupid bitches themselves-"
"Just stop." Amber demanded with a clenched jaw, gaze drifting toward the door to the locker room as she contemplated whether or not she could make it into the hallway before he caught up to her – she wasn't entirely confident that the odds weighed in her favor.
"What are you gonna do, Amber?!" Jackson shouted, his anger seeming to grow as he leaned even closer, "When your stupid bitch of a best friend- When Scott turns on you! What are you gonna do!"
His fists slammed into the wall on either side of her head and she couldn't hold back a quiet whimper as she flinched in fear, her wide eyes glued to the blind rage that had overtaken his face.
"They almost killed Lydia!" He spit the words in her face in sharp reminder, "Who do you think's gonna be next! Hm? Not you, oh no- Because you're in love with Stiles, and Scott's your best friend and he'd never let you get hurt-?" He shook his head condescendingly. His face was flooded with anger and his nose nearly brushed against hers as he continued to tear into her, "Is that what you tell yourself? Huh? If that's what you tell yourself then you're already dead."
One of Jackson's hands left the wall behind her, sharp claws now on display. He stroked them delicately down the length of Amber's cheek before pausing at the edge of her jawline, the sharp points poking at the skin of her throat just light enough that, while they didn't cut through her flesh, the threat was evident. Jackson's lips pulled back in another terrifying snarl and Amber found her heart racing anxiously at the combined feeling of the tips of his claws against her cheek and his naked body against her.
"Tell me, if your big bad werewolf of a best friend really cared, would he really let you walk around without any way to protect yourself?" Jackson's hand drifted, claws lightly skimming farther down the length of her throat as he spoke.
"I, um," She licked her lips as her body trembled anxiously, trying to work up the nerve to do what she needed to, "I wouldn't say I'm totally helpless-"
She threw her arms up and out to shove his hands away from her, thrusting her leg up sharply in the same moment to slam her knee into his naked groin. When he stumbled back half a step in surprise, she moved to rush past him, but she was yanked back roughly by her arm before she could make it more than a step away. Her cardigan tore from her shoulder as he spun her back around and suddenly they were falling through the air. Her back slammed down onto the ground and a pained grunt slipped past her lips as Jackson's weight landed heavily on top of her.
The moment they collided and his naked body pinned her to the floor, Jackson's eyes were widening, lips parted in surprise as if he'd suddenly been broken from a trance.
"Amber?" He questioned in panicked confusion as he scrambled to his feet frantically, "What are you doing here?"
The girl's heart was sill pounding in her chest too heavily for her to formulate a response. Her lips parted in a loss for words as she shuffled along the floor to put space between them. Her back hit the wall and the cold tile pressed against her bare shoulder where her sweater and the thin strap of her dress were still askew, the fabric dangling loosely down her arm. She watched as Jackson reached for a discarded pair of athletic shorts on the changing bench and moved to cover himself.
The locker room door swung open before she could respond and her wide eyes cut across the room to see Scott standing in the doorway, his gaze flicking back and forth between where she was on the floor, looking disheveled and afraid, and where Jackson was still pulling a pair of shorts over his naked legs with frantic movements.
"I- I'm fine," She assured her best friend quickly, "I'm fi-"
Her words didn't seem to quell the way that Scott's face morphed into one of blind fury. It was only then that Amber realized exactly how bad the scene in front of him appeared.
Without a moment of hesitation, Scott was storming toward Jackson furiously and Amber clumsily climbed to her feet as she watched her best friend shove Jackson back through the air with enough force that a row of lockers caved when the boy's body slammed into them.
"No, Scott! Scott, stop! I'm fine!" She repeated quickly.
Jackson righted himself with a renewed rage, "I. Have. A. Restraining order!"
"Trust me, I restrained myself." Scott retorted angrily.
In a blink, Jackson was tackling Scott and Amber watched in distress as they began to throw one another around the locker room with superhuman strength. They moved toward the showers at the back of the room and she heard an unmistakable crack as the tiles shattered from the force of their brawl.
Jackson stepped back into view, breathing heavily and scowling at Amber where she was still standing wide eyed at the front of the room, but before he could make it more than a few steps toward her, Scott was launching himself out of the showers and sending him hurtling back toward the weight benches.
"You guys, seriously! Stop!" Amber pleaded as she watched Jackson grab a forty-five pound weight, his fingers wrapping around the plate and launching it in Scott's direction as if it weighed nothing at all.
Amber squeaked as her hands came up to cover her mouth, but Scott caught the weight before it could crash into his chest.
He didn't get a moment to recover. Jackson rushed forward to kick him back into the wall, tiles cracking beneath Scott's weight only seconds before he was thrown into the row of sinks along the wall.
The porcelain shattered with a loud crash, water spraying from the burst pipes as the boys continued to throw one another back and forth across the room.
"Guys!" She tried again, voice hitching slightly. Her back hit the wall when they moved closer as she tried to stay away from the action, "Guys, stop!"
As if she hadn't spoken at all, the two continued to shove and kick at each other and Amber's heart pounded anxiously in her chest with each minute that passed, growing more and more worried that one of them might truly get hurt. Her hands scrambled as she patted herself down in search of her cell phone, a disbelieving whine leaving her lips when she realized it was in her backpack in the hallway due to the lack of pockets in her attire.
Jackson sent a final hard kick to Scott's chest and Amber watched her friend slam against the locker room door with a loud crash, the door tearing from its hinges as Scott fell back on top of it and into the hallway.
Amber rushed behind Jackson when he immediately stormed out of the room after Scott, the girl finding Erica already restraining Jackson and pulling him off of Scott. Stiles was attempting to hold Scott back while he tried to charge forward again and Amber pushed her hands against Scott's chest as Stiles wrapped his arms around him.
"Scott!" She pleaded, "Seriously, Scott, I-"
"What the hell is going on!"
Amber's eyes pinched shut in disbelief of their luck as she heard Mr. Harris yelling down the hallway, his footfalls growing louder as he stormed toward them.
"Hey!" The teacher shouted when he saw the boys still fighting against the students that were attempting to keep them apart, "Enough!"
Jackson and Scott seemed to deflate at the sound of their Chemistry teacher's angry yelling, both boys slumping against the arms holding them back as they finally stopped fighting.
"What do you idiots think you're doing?" Mr. Harris yelled, looking between the group of teens with a scowl, "Mr. McCall? Care to explain yourself?" He questioned sharply before his eyes drifted to the two teens who had released him but were still standing beside their friend, "Callisto? Stilinski?"
Amber swallowed loudly and looked around, but the entire group remained silent for a long moment.
"..You dropped this." Matt's voice cut in awkwardly, stepping from behind Mr. Harris and handing Amber's unzipped backpack to her.
Her notebook of bestiary translations was laying at the top of her books in a way that she hadn't quite remembered it being when she'd stuffed it into her bag earlier. As she took her backpack from him, she winced at the water dripping from the fabric due to the leak that had flowed out of the locker room and into the hallway.
"You, and you," Mr. Harris pointed between Jackson and Scott before shaking his head and letting his eyes rake across the group again, his gaze even drifting to where Matt was hovering behind him for a moment, "Actually.. All of you. Detention. Three o'clock."
They all slumped at the announcement of their punishment, Jackson shooting them a dark glare before storming off behind their teacher and Matt as they retreated. The moment that the hallway had cleared out, Scott was rounding on Amber with a furious glare.
"What the heck were you thinking?!" He snapped.
She flinched underneath his anger suddenly directed at her and took a small step back from him, "Wh-"
"Why would you guys split up?" He asked loudly, barely glancing at his girlfriend before he was glaring at Amber again, "That was the stupidest, most reckless-"
"Hey, Scott.." Stiles interrupted Scott's enraged scolding to move between them, nudging Scott back a step, "Take it down a notch, man."
"You didn't see the way-" Scott shook his head, his anger seeming to fade suddenly into concern in the time it took him to inhale and exhale. He moved forward again, "I- Amber, are you alright?"
"I- I'm fine, Scott," She promised, taking Stiles' hand gratefully when his fingers nudged against hers in offering, "I told you-"
Scott's chest heaved as he took a breath to keep calm, "If he.. I swear to god I'm gonna kill him-"
"Scott, stop." Amber interrupted, "It seriously wasn't what it looked like, okay? He didn't-"
"What did it look like?" Stiles questioned in confusion, he and Allison both slightly lost in the conversation.
Scott let out another sharp breath, "It looked like Jackson was-"
"I know what it looked like!" Amber cut him off again frantically, not wanting to hear the words, "Scott he was just yelling at me, okay? He was being an asshole but he wasn't going to- He-" She took a shaky breath, "He wasn't going to do anything. Not what you're thinking. He wasn't going to do.. that."
"Do what?"
Allison and Stiles voiced the words at the same time, the former still sounding confused and the latter simply exasperated at being left out.
Scott didn't speak, but he held eye contact with Amber for a long moment as if he were trying to search her face for any trace of a lie, even after having listened to the way her heartbeat remained steady while she'd spoken the words. He nodded slowly in indication that he believed her, his shoulders slumping from their rigid stance. Amber took a small step forward to pull him into a one armed hug, her other hand still extended behind her with Stiles' fingers trapped in her grip.
"I'm okay," She murmured quietly into his ear, "But regardless, I'm glad you came when you did," She said slightly louder as she released him and stepped back, "Did- Did you do okay on your makeup test? Did me and Stiles' flash cards help?"
There was a pause before he responded and she frowned at his moment of hesitation.
"I, uh, yeah. Totally. They definitely helped!" Scott said after a moment with a bit too much enthusiasm.
Amber groaned, her head rolling back on her shoulders, "You weren't finished and you bombed it to get down here and help me, didn't you?"
Scott winced, "Yeah."
Amber sighed, her grip tightening around Stiles' hand as she shook her head to clear away negative thoughts, "It's fine, it's totally fine! Y'know why? We- New game plan! Stiles and I will help you with some extra credit work instead and your grade will just-" She pulled at Stiles' wrist as she slapped her free palm against their joined hands, imitating something shooting up into the air, "We can still fix this."
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At the end of the day, Amber was surprised by a pair of arms wrapping around her waist from behind, warmth filling her chest as the scent of Stiles' cologne washed over her. His mouth pressed softly against the side of her neck and Amber's breath stuttered at the feeling. She abandoned the book she'd been pulling from her locker to reach back toward him, fingers wrapping around the back of his neck as she tipped her head at an awkward angle to catch his lips with her own.
"Mm, hello." She greeted quietly against his mouth.
"Hi," Stiles grinned, his arms tightening around her ribs as she turned back to collect her World History textbook, "You ready for detention?"
"As ready as one can be for punishment in the form of forced labor." She zipped up her backpack and closed her locker as she turned in her boyfriend's arms. Her back hit the lockers softly as Stiles leaned into her space to press his lips against hers again in a quick kiss.
"We're going to reshelve a couple books. It's not exactly punitive labor." He commented in amusement, prying her backpack from her fingers and releasing her so that he could drape the strap over his shoulder atop his own bag.
She took his hand in hers and rolled her eyes, "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you're supposed to agree with your girlfriend no matter what? Even when you think she's wrong or being ridiculous or batshit crazy?"
"I dunno, I think that might be a myth.." Stiles teased with a barely concealed grin as they headed toward the library.
"I'm just saying.. Maybe you should look into it-" She couldn't fight the smile that pulled at her own lips as his thumb ran softly back and forth along the back of her hand. She changed the subject with a quiet huff, "D'you think Erica really kept all the kanima stuff about Jackson a secret after you talked to her earlier? That she didn't tell Derek?"
Stiles sighed, "I freakin' hope so. You guys only just convinced me that we shouldn't kill him, it'd be a real bummer now if Derek just ripped his throat out anyway."
She winced, "That's.. Graphic."
"Sorry," Stiles made a face, "But, I mean- Wouldn't be the first time, would it? The guy didn't even hesitate when it was his own uncle-"
"That's a little different, I think-" She defended weakly, "I mean, his uncle was a psychopath whereas Jackson's technically one of Derek's Betas. Or, y'know, he would be if he didn't have so much repressed shit-"
"You think Derek being the one to give him the bite would really make him think twice?" Stiles questioned, pulling open the library doors and letting Amber step through first.
She shrugged, "I wouldn't necessarily count on it, but there's no harm in hoping, right?"
She dropped into a chair across the table from where Scott was already sitting and Stiles was quick to claim the one beside her.
"Oh, um, we can't be in detention together," Jackson told Mr. Harris as he sat down in the seat behind Amber, "I have a restraining order against these tools."
"All of these tools?" Their teacher asked with an unimpressed look, eyes flicking over their table.
"No, just us tools." Stiles supplied with a sigh, pointing between himself and Scott.
"Fine. Jackson, sit there," Mr. Harris said with an eye roll, gesturing to the empty seat at the table where Matt and Allison were sitting on the other side of the room before focusing back on the other teens as Erica sat down at an unoccupied table behind the teacher, "You two keep your distance from him."
Their teacher's attention left them to focus elsewhere and Scott took the opportunity to lean across the table, his face pinched tight in anger, "I'm gonna kill him." He stated, eyes flicking over to Jackson before refocusing on his best friends.
"No, you're not." Amber whispered.
"You're gonna find out who's controlling him." Stiles reminded him.
"-And then you're gonna help save him." Amber finished seriously.
"No," Scott whispered with a determined look, attention drifting to Stiles, "You were right. Let's kill him."
"He was not right," Amber whispered sharply, "You two are killing me. Get it together."
"Hey, I'm on your side now, remember?" Stiles defended, reaching out to pat her leg beneath the table as he spoke.
Amber gripped his hand over her bare thigh and squeezed it with a grateful nod.
"Hey, what if it's Matt?" Stiles pondered aloud after a few minutes, his eyes focussed on the boy sitting across the room beside Allison, "-I mean this whole thing comes back to the video, right? It was his camera-"
Scott shook his head, "Danny said that Matt was the one that found the two hours of footage that was missing-"
"Exactly!" Stiles whispered, raising his eyebrows as he continued to make his point, "He's trying to throw suspicion off himself."
Amber and Scott let their gazes drift across the room to watch the boy in question as he crunched on a chip from the snack bag he'd been picking at since the start of detention.
"..So he makes Jackson kill Isaac's dad, one of Argent's hunters, and the mechanic working on your Jeep?" Scott deduced in confusion.
"Yes!" Stiles hissed.
"Why would he do that?" Amber questioned incredulously.
"Because.. He's evil." Stiles supplied slowly.
She peered across the room again and watched as Matt shook his bag of chips across the table at Jackson in offering.
"Yeah, he looks like a real criminal mastermind." Amber whispered sarcastically.
"You just don't like him." Scott told Stiles with a shake of his head.
"The guy bugs me, I dunno what it is," Stiles agreed quietly, "Just.. Look at his face."
Amber pulled her hand from Stiles' with a wince and bit down on her lip, "Does that mean now is a bad time to mention that he asked me to go to that rave concert thing with him on Friday-"
Stiles shot her a look of disbelief, eye twitching as he searched for words, "He what?"
"I mean, as friends, obviously-" She added, feeling slightly guilty from the look on her boyfriend's face.
"But you said no, right?" Stiles whispered, his gaze flicking over her shoulder to scowl at Matt before returning to her face.
She scrunched her nose, "Not exactly."
Scott listened in on their interaction silently, eyes bouncing between his best friends as if he were watching a tennis match while they went back and forth.
"Well what exactly did you say, then?" Stiles followed up.
"..Yes?"
"What!" Stiles said a little too loudly, shrinking back as everyone looked over at him and repeating himself in a hushed whisper, "What?"
Amber dropped her hand over his knee with a sympathetic frown, "I made sure he knew you and I were together and that we'd just be going as friends. And in the end he offered to get a ticket for Allison too," She promised quietly, "I didn't realize you despised him quite so much or else I would've-"
"Well if I disliked him before, I freakin' loathe him now." Stiles glared over her shoulder once more.
She sighed, grip tightening on his leg, "Babe, I'm sorry, but.. I'm not canceling on him after I already agreed to go-"
"I didn't- I'm not asking you to-" Stiles huffed with a shake of his head, "Just, be careful, alright? There's something off about the guy."
She turned her head to look back at Matt again and watched as the boy finished his chips and began meticulously folding the empty bag in half over and over until it was shaped into a small square of trash that he proceeded to tuck away in the pocket of his jeans.
"Right.." Amber drew out the word quietly, unconvinced.
A silence fell over their table, the quiet stretching on for a few minutes before Jackson suddenly pushed out of his chair and began to stumble toward the library doors with a mumbled excuse about needing to use the bathroom.
"Are you alright?" Mr. Harris questioned, looking genuinely worried for the boy in a way that had Amber very nearly rolling her eyes, "You don't look so good-"
Jackson merely pushed past the teacher when they crossed paths, "I just need to get some water." He muttered as he pushed through the doors and exited the library.
Mr. Harris watched him go for only a moment before he moved to follow behind him, pausing at the doors to turn back and glare at the rest of them, "No one leaves their seats." He warned.
The moment the doors closed behind him, Amber, Scott, and Stiles all shared a look in silent communication before they wordlessly pushed up from their chairs and rushed over to the table Erica had taken up by herself.
"Stiles says you know how Jackson's parents died." Scott addressed the blonde, wasting no time with beating around the bush.
Erica looked between the three of them as they sat down and shrugged in nonchalance, "Maybe."
"Talk." Scott urged quickly.
Erica flipped her notebook closed with a sigh and leaned over the table on her elbows, "It was a car accident. My dad was the insurance investigator, and every time he sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche, he makes some comment about the huge settlement he'll be getting when he turns eighteen."
Stiles narrowed his eyes in disbelief, "So, not only is Jackson rich now, but he's getting even richer at eighteen?"
"Yup." Erica grinned at the annoyance in his voice.
"There is something so deeply wrong with that." Stiles muttered.
"The last thing that boy needs is more money to further inflate his ego." Amber agreed quietly.
"You know what?" Erica murmured, opening her laptop and clicking around on the trackpad as she navigated the screen, "I could try to find the insurance report in my dad's inbox.. He keeps everything."
"Scott McCall, Please report to the principal's office. Scott McCall. Principal's office."
Amber had pushed out of her seat and was headed to the opposite side of the table where Stiles and Erica were sitting when the announcement rang out loudly through the PA system. She frowned as she looked at her friend in question but Scott shrugged in response with a frown of his own, patting her on the shoulder as he stood and moved to head down to the front office.
Stiles spread his legs over the sides of his wide chair and Amber settled between his thighs easily so that they could both peer at the computer screen while Erica did a deep dive through her father's old emails.
As the blonde finally pulled up the message thread they were looking for a few minutes later, the doors to the library reopened with a quiet click as Jackson and Mr. Harris came back into the room, but the three teens paid no attention, continuing to read through the attachments as Erica opened them up on the screen.
"Wait, wait-" Amber whispered, her eyes suddenly catching on the words written on the copy of the insurance claim, "Look at the dates."
"Passengers arrived at the hospital DOA-" Erica read from the middle of the page, "The estimated time of death - 9:26 P.M., June 14, 1995." She finished with a questioning lilt to her voice, eyebrows lifting as if she wasn't sure what could be possibly important about that particular piece of information
"Jackson's birthday is June 15." Stiles pointed out, pulling the words straight from Amber's mouth.
Erica turned to blink at them in surprise.
The sudden zing of a zipper rang out through the room and everyone's attention was drawn to where Mr. Harris was pulling his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his things as he moved to leave early. The teens all followed suit in collective relief, beginning to gather their own belongings together before the sound of their teacher chuckling quietly made them pause.
"Oh, no, I'm sorry-" He laughed, not sounding the least bit apologetic, "Uh, yes.. I'm leaving. But none of you are," He explained, stepping up to one of the many wheeled carts stacked high with books, "You may go when you're done with the reshelving. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
Mr. Harris chuckled again as he left the room and Amber's face pinched up in disgust.
"I genuinely hate that man." She muttered, dropping down into the seat again and leaning back into Stiles' chest with a sigh.
Erica's eyes were flicking over the screen of her laptop again, still searching for something following the discovery made by Stiles and Amber.
"What?" Amber questioned after a moment.
Erica closed the lid to her computer and blinked, "They kept his mom on life support until they could get her body prepped for surgery." She explained quietly.
"Jesus." Stiles muttered.
All of their gazes drifted over to where Jackson was leaning heavily over the top of his table, looking slightly sweaty and feverishly unwell.
"You think he's good?" Amber questioned in a whisper, head tipped back onto Stiles shoulder so she could speak quietly into his ear.
Stiles shrugged behind her, "Maybe the bite's finally gonna kill him." He joked.
Amber pinched his arm between her fingers in reprimand, "Cut that out. Now, c'mon. Let's do some reshelving. I'd like to go home at some point today."
Erica rolled her eyes at the couple just as the doors were thrown open once again and Scott reemerged. He immediately came to stand where Amber was already beginning to roll one of the carts of books in the direction of the stacks, nodding his head toward Allison in a motion for her to follow them. Stiles stepped around Amber to pull the cart from the other side, grabbing a book at random once they were hidden away between the shelves and peering down at the sticker on the bottom of the binding as he searched for the place where it belonged amongst the shelved books.
"Did you guys find anything?" Scott questioned his friends as Allison stepped up beside them.
Amber grimaced as she grabbed a book of her own, "Yeah, kinda." She supplied weakly, pushing up onto her toes to shove the book onto a high shelf.
"You guys found something?" Allison repeated curiously, "About his parents?"
Amber and Stiles both nodded, looking at one another silently as they debated who should speak and eventually the girl caved with a sigh, "Well, you know they both died in a car accident-" She whispered, fighting against the flashes of painful memories that cropped up at the reminder of how her own parents had been taken from her, "But it was only a couple of hours before Jackson was born." She continued.
"What does that mean?" Scott asked in confusion.
"It means he was born after his mom died," Amber explained, "..By c-section."
"They had to pull him out of her dead body." Stiles supplied grimly.
"Oh my god." Allison whispered.
Amber nodded in agreement as she reshelved another book, "So, yeah. His parents were killed before tiny Jackson was even born into the world."
"Killed.." Allison repeated slowly, "So, was it an accident or not?"
Stiles shrugged, "The word all over the reports is 'inconclusive'."
Scott leaned on his elbows, resting his weight onto a stack of books with wide eyes, "What? His parents could've been murdered?"
Stiles nodded with another noncommittal shrug, "If they were, then it falls in line with the kanima myth, right?"
Amber nodded in agreement, "It seeks out and kills murderers but.. What, because it had a loved one who was also murdered?"
"Would that go for Jackson? Or the person controlling him?" Allison questioned in a hushed voice.
"Maybe both?" Amber pondered, "I mean, maybe that's why they bonded in the first place."
"Could be." Stiles agreed easily.
"Regardless, I don't think Jackson wants to kill anybody," Amber whispered, "I mean, if he knew what he was-"
"We have to talk to him," Scott interrupted, moving around the book cart to walk to the front of the aisle, "We have to tell him."
"I don't know if that's such a good idea," Amber countered, stepping forward to follow after him, "I don't think he's gonna listen to-" Scott left the row of shelves without another word and Amber sighed as she turned back to Allison and Stiles, "-And he's gone.. Y'know, he used to listen to me."
"Yeah, him going Teen Wolf and no longer being such a pushover is a real pain in the ass, isn't it?" Stiles lamented in agreement.
"Yes." Amber agreed in discontent.
A loud crash from a few rows over had Amber flinching in surprise, head whipping toward the commotion as another crash immediately followed, the second one sounding out slightly closer.
"Erica!" Scott yelled from another row.
Amber took a nervous step back toward Stiles as her heart picked up in her chest. The next crash sounded from directly above them as a dark blur jumped from one towering bookshelf to another, slamming into the ceiling and shattering lights as it moved. Amber brought her hands up to cover her head as small shards of glass along with styrofoam and dust from the ceiling tiles rained down over them and Stiles pulled her to the ground, wrapping one arm around her waist and positioning the other protectively over their heads.
They heard Erica let out a small scream from the next row and as Stiles lowered his arm slowly, Amber looked between him and Allison with wide eyes.
The shattered light bulbs above were sparking dangerously as electricity continued to flow into them and Amber took ahold of Stiles' wrist as the sound of wood splintering and loud crashes continued from beyond the stack that they were tucked away in.
The familiar screech of the kanima sounded out only moments before Scott was tossed back into a cart of books in need of re-shelving at the end of the bookshelves. Amber made a small, unconscious move to go toward her friend to help but Stiles tugged her back into his arms without hesitation, scolding her quietly.
Scott groaned as he righted himself and he slipped into the row of shelves upon spotting the three of them still ducked down beside the other book cart. He came to a crouch in front of them all, blocking them off from the end of the row and stretching his arms out protectively as Allison flocked to her boyfriend's back.
It was only then that Amber's eyes fell on Jackson. He was stood in front of a blackboard across the room, half-shifted in a way she'd only ever seen when he was unconscious outside of the nightclub, his skin lightly covered in scales though he remained looking mostly human. His head lolled to the side limply as he gripped a piece of chalk and began to write on the board, showing no indication that he knew what he was doing, like a puppet controlled by someone pulling at its strings.
The chalk clicked loudly against the board in the sudden silence as Jackson's unfocused yellow eyes gazed at nothing in particular across the room and Amber gripped onto Stiles that much tighter in unease. Jackson finished his messy scrawl of large letters on the board, remaining still for a terrifying moment before he launched himself out of the second story library window in a loud crash of shattering glass.
Amber let out a shaky exhale and Stiles pressed his mouth to her temple, not quite kissing her but simply panting anxious breaths into her skin as they all took in the message that had been left behind on the blackboard.
STAY OUT OF MY WAY OR I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU
The four rose to their feet, slowly stepping out from the row of bookshelves as the lights continued to flicker and spark above them. Amber's gaze drifted to the next row over as it came into view and she stumbled over her own feet at the sight of the blonde werewolf convulsing on the floor.
Amber pushed past Stiles and fell to her knees, rolling Erica over onto her back until she could see the other girl's face.
"Woah, woah- Hey!" Stiles alerted the others immediately as he followed his girlfriend's footsteps and helped her hold onto Erica while the girl thrashed.
"She's having a seizure-" Amber shouted in confusion, "She's a werewolf! How- How is she having a seizure?"
"Hey, we need to get her to a hospital." Stiles announced obviously.
"Derek-" Erica disagreed in a quick burst, "T-To Derek."
Their grip on the blonde tightened further as she twitched and Scott dropped down to the floor alongside them, looking over to the next row where Allison was checking on an unconscious Matt.
"He's alive." Allison declared.
Scott sighed in relief, his eyes meeting Amber's panicked ones before his gaze dropped down to Erica for a moment. He looked back at Allison, "When we get her to the hospital-"
"To Derek," Erica was quick to repeat, jerking beneath Amber's hands, "To Derek."
"Okay," Amber agreed easily as Stiles sat Erica up in his arms, "Okay, we'll go to Derek." She promised.
Scott was still looking at Allison longingly and he stood suddenly before rounding the bookshelf to drop down beside his girlfriend.
Stiles' head snapped up in annoyance, "Hey, Scott!"
"Asshole." Amber muttered under her breath as she pushed a clump of curls from Erica's face and tucked them behind her ear, "Scott!" She called out again in frustration.
She could hear the hushed whisperings between Scott and Allison but couldn't quite make out the words that were being said and her eyes went to her boyfriend's to meet Stiles' own irritated gaze.
"Scott, go." Allison said loudly.
"Yeah, Scott, get your ass over here!" Amber snapped as she helped Stiles get to his feet with Erica draped in his arms bridal style.
Scott finally approached them again a few seconds later and immediately took Erica's weight from Stiles' arms, carrying her effortlessly as he rushed toward the exit. Stiles huffed quietly in annoyance as they followed behind Scott with quick steps and Amber's hand found his back as they moved through the empty halls.
"I had that." Stiles muttered quietly.
"I know you did." Amber assented, rubbing her hand over his shoulder blades as they rushed down the hallway.
"I wasn't struggling that much. I could've carried her-"
Amber nodded empathetically, "I'm sure you could've."
Stiles huffed as they rounded a corner to head toward the front doors, "Why do I get the feeling you're just trying to appease me?"
"Because I am." Amber said easily, grabbing his hand to pull him to move faster.
"Wh- I mean, I've carried you plenty of times! You know I could-"
"You're very strong, baby, okay?" She placated quickly as they followed Scott through the doors and down the steps to the sidewalk, "But we both know Scott's stronger. There's no point in wearing out your human muscles, right?"
Stiles frowned as he pulled out his keys, "Yeah, I- Okay."
She knew that couldn't possibly be the end of it, the very last thing Stiles was known for was his ability to let things go, or concede in a fight — but it seemed he was willing to drop the subject for now, and Amber rewarded him with a tender stroke of her thumb over his cheek before she climbed into the vehicle.
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As sickening as it was to watch Derek snap the bones in Erica's arm to jumpstart her healing process, it was nothing compared to the positively blood curdling scream that Erica let out when he sunk his claws into her flesh to squeeze the kanima venom out through the broken limb.
Amber had never had any real problems with the sight of blood, but as Derek dug his fingers into the skin of Erica's arm and thick red streams of it poured out onto the dirty floor of the train car, she had to hold back a gag as nausea flooded her body.
Stiles' warm breath against her neck as he shielded his own eyes from the gore-y scene was a welcomed comfort. She reached to cup the back of his head and he burrowed his face further into her hair with a wince when Derek tightened his grip once more and Erica's screams started up again.
"Derek-" Amber choked out, tightening her other hand around Erica's as a few tears leaked down the blonde's cheeks.
"I'm almost done." Derek promised them.
The next few minutes were painful for everyone involved and their ears were still ringing with Erica's cries of pain by the time Derek released his grip on her arm. They all slumped in relief at the sudden silence while Erica caught her breath and Derek and Scott were quick to rise to their feet and exit the ratty train car.
Amber stumbled to her own feet, temples throbbing slightly from both the anxiety and the screams that had filled her head for the last couple hours. She gave Stiles' shoulder a squeeze before she followed the path out of the train car in search for where Scott and Derek had wandered off to only moments before.
"You knew who it was." Scott accused Derek as Amber stepped up behind the two werewolves.
She watched with a sick weight in her stomach as Derek wiped Erica's blood away from his hands with a rag before he nodded and spoke, "Jackson."
"You just wanted Erica to confirm it, didn't you?" Scott asked in annoyance.
Derek nodded again but Amber took another step into their space before he could respond, "You're not going to hurt him."
"I'm not?" Derek crossed his arms over his chest and raised his eyebrows.
"Face it, Derek. You need help from Scott and his worthless pack of humans," Her words were laced with venom and she almost felt satisfied by the look of surprise on the older werewolf's face, "And we'll help you, alright? But we're not hurting him."
"Amber-" Derek's words were cut off when Scott cut in.
"She's right," Scott nodded seriously, placing a hand on Amber's shoulder in a show of support, "We'll help you stop him. But we do it on one condition; we're gonna find a way to catch him, not kill him."
Derek sighed, "So what's your plan then?"
Silence.
"You want to do things 'your way', but neither of you has a plan?" Derek huffed in exasperation.
"The rave on Friday.." Amber said after a moment.
Derek shook his head immediately, "There'll be too many people-"
"Exactly," Scott agreed immediately, "Jackson won't be expecting us to corner him in such a crowded location and he'll be a whole lot easier to catch if he's not expecting it."
"So, Mr. I'm A Werewolf And I Know Everything-" Amber looked at Derek expectantly, "How does one set a trap for demented lizard-wolf?"
"We could use mountain ash, maybe.." Derek said with a shrug, "But I don't have any."
"Well who would?" Amber asked immediately.
Derek frowned, "Scott's boss might-"
"You think Deaton has this stuff?" Scott questioned.
"There's a lot you don't know about him, Scott," Derek supplied unhelpfully, "And I doubt he'd give it to me, but he might be willing to give it to you."
"Okay," Amber said easily, "So we ask Dr. Deaton for this ashy shit.. What exactly is it though? How is it gonna help us catch Jackson?"
Derek sighed a long suffering sigh before giving them a painfully undetailed run down of how they might be able to use the mountain ash to trap Jackson, but voiced that he was unsure how they'd subdue the kanima once they had him trapped. Scott was quick to insist that Deaton would be able to help them come up with a more thorough plan and that he, Amber, and Stiles would go and speak with his boss after school one day.
"Cool. So we have a week to come up with a plan, then," Amber said, bitterness seeping into her voice as her eyes drifted to Derek again, "I guess we'll just have one of your precious Betas let you know once we have it all hashed out, since you've made sure that it's impossible for any of us to get a hold of you."
She turned away with a huff and made her way down the dark, dirty hallway, needing just a moment by herself as anger pulsed violently in her chest. She flinched when a hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her to a stop in an empty stretch of the abandoned railway cars.
"Amber, hang on a second." Derek said calmly.
Her eyes narrowed, hurt creeping up inside her as she recalled what he'd said just a few days before to shed some light on why he'd entirely cut off contact with her.
I didn't want you to be a part of my pack if you wanted to stay human.
"What?" She sighed weakly.
"I know I hurt your feelings," He said slowly, "And I-"
"You didn't," She lied with a small shrug, "Why would I be hurt?"
Derek gave her a look as if she were being wholly ridiculous, "I know I hurt you," He repeated, "When I told you I didn't want you to be a part of my pack-"
"I'm a part of Scott's pack, remember? You said so yourself. I don't want to be a part of your stupid agro-pack anyway, okay?"
He appeared sad as he frowned at her and she couldn't quite tell if it was hurt or pity swimming in his eyes, but her throat tightened regardless.
He sighed, "I just wanted to apologize, alright? My mother never really considered the human family members to be part of the pack and until I saw the bond that Scott's formed with you, and Stiles, and Allison, I thought that was just how it was supposed to be. I didn't-"
"Didn't want a sixteen year old little girl to get in the way and ruin your perfect pack of werewolves?"
She refused to even look at the older werewolf as she spit his words back at him, her eyes focussed on the dirty cement wall behind him instead. She hadn't even been truly angry when he'd initially said the words, but now that her frustration had pushed its way to the surface, she felt her emotions taking over for the first time since the night she'd turned down his offer of the bite.
"I shouldn't have said that," Derek confessed quietly, "I didn't mean it. I was angry that you turned me down but I shouldn't have pushed you away the way I did."
Her jaw clenched, "No. You shouldn't have."
"I'm sorry."
At his apology, her eyes finally flicked back to Derek and her stiffness loosened slightly at the genuine regret on his normally stoic face.
"All I ever wanted was to help you." She said quietly.
"I know."
"I- I was starting to think of you like a brother and you just.. You said you didn't want me anymore and you left." Her voice caught in her throat and Derek's eyes widened at the shift in her emotions, "I cared about you."
"I.." Derek's face scrunched up like he was struggling entirely too hard with his words before continuing, "I care about you too."
Her face broke into a grin accompanied by glassy eyes as she threw her arms around his shoulders, "Aw, Sourwolf.. I forgive you. For being such a big stupid dickhead."
Derek chuckled quietly as he returned her hug and Amber's chest felt decidedly warm.
"Oh, come on! Alpha paws off my girlfriend. For the love of God." Stiles' voice exclaimed as he rounded the corner.
Amber laughed as she released the werewolf and she took Stiles' hand in hers as soon as he was at her side, "How's Erica?" She asked.
Stiles smiled sadly, "Healed. She passed out but she looks a lot better than she did."
Derek nodded at his words before moving past them and Amber's arms looped around her boyfriend's waist the moment they were alone. She nuzzled her head into his neck and he huffed an amused laugh as he returned her embrace, combing his fingers through her hair in a familiar motion.
"What's up?" He asked quietly.
She shrugged and attempted to bury herself deeper in him, "Are you and Scott ready to go?"
Stiles hummed a confirmation before dropping his arms around her waist, "Should I carry you to the Jeep? To prove my more than adequate human strength?" He tightened his arms and lifted her until her toes could only just brush the ground but she shoved him away with a squeal of laughter.
"No," She said quickly as she moved down the hall, "Nope, no carrying necessary. Let's go get Scott. We can start planning Operation Capture Jackson on the way."
Stiles ran up behind her and she broke into laughter again while dodging his attempts to get his arms around her, tangling her fingers with his instead as she pulled him along.
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"Stiles!"
Amber fisted the fabric of his flannel between her fingers in the scramble for something substantial to hold onto as her voice rose.
"I'm serious! Put me down!" She demanded in a shout.
"Nope," He slammed the passenger door of the Jeep closed and turned to head inside the house, his hands gripping her thighs tightly to ensure she didn't fall from the place where she'd been thrown over his shoulder after insisting he help her from the vehicle in what she'd thought had been an act of chivalry, "Not until we're upstairs. I'm-"
"You have proven your point!" She found herself laughing despite the way his shoulder was digging somewhat painfully into her gut.
"Not yet."
As he stepped into the house, Stiles took a moment to toe off his shoes while using one hand to pull Amber's from her feet and dropping them to smack against the floor one at a time.
"I'm wearing a dress!" She squealed when he still didn't set her down. She suddenly found herself desperately hoping that none of his nosy neighbors had been looking through their windows at the right moment to receive a full view of her ass as he'd carried her inside.
"You sure are," Stiles agreed as he moved past the entryway and deeper into the house, his right hand sliding dangerously further up her thigh as he went, "Thanks for that, by the way. It's a nice view."
She pinched his backside in retaliation as he began to climb the stairs and his knees buckled worryingly for a moment in surprise on the bottom step.
"Do not drop me, Stilinski-" She threatened seriously.
"Don't distract me!" He countered.
"You're being ridiculous!" She argued, watching with unease as the distance between her head and the floor grew, "And you're lucky I don't get motion sickness because looking down all of these stairs is mildly terrifying-"
"I'm not gonna drop you." He promised.
He made a point of tightening his fingers around her thighs further to reassure her but his actions had an entirely different effect. She had to bite down on her lower lip painfully to hold back the quiet moan that threatened to escape as his fingers dug into the soft flesh just beneath the roundness of her ass, his thumb dipping torturously between her thighs as he squeezed, the tip achingly close to pressing against her lace-covered core. So close, she could very nearly taste it.
When they made it to his bedroom, Stiles unceremoniously dropped her down onto the bed and she quickly propped herself up on her elbows to look up at him in disbelief, her cheeks flushed with heat.
"That.. Was so unnecessary." She said breathlessly as she pushed herself to sit up at the edge of his bed.
Stiles only grinned, "Told you I could do it, though. I'm not even winded. In fact, I could've-"
His words cut off in surprise when Amber dragged him forward with a hand fisted in his shirt, his knees bumping the mattress as he stumbled to a stop between her parted legs. She blinked up at him while she continued to catch her breath, tongue poking out to wet her lips unconsciously as her gaze flicked from his eyes to his mouth.
Stiles watched the movements and leaned down suddenly with one knee on the mattress between her thighs to pull her into a kiss, his hand gliding over her jaw to cradle the back of her head until his fingers could tangle in her hair.
She groaned into his mouth, her arms sliding across his shoulders to loop around his neck so that she could pull him down against her as she fell to her back on the bed. The sparks that had pooled in her belly crept lower, fluttering excitedly between her legs as his weight settled on top of her and she sighed contentedly through her nose when he deepened the kiss.
His fingers skimmed with the ghost of a touch over the skin of her biceps, dragging up past her elbows where he untangled her arms from around his neck to push them down against the mattress. His hands trailed back toward her own to tangle their fingers together once her arms were splayed out on either side of her head. When his lips left hers, she tipped her head back while his mouth left a wet trail of kisses along her jaw and down the length of her neck.
Her hips canted up reflexively as his teeth scraped softly over the sensitive skin of her throat, his warm breath tingling along her skin, and Stiles groaned into her neck when her pelvis made contact with the growing bulge at the front of his jeans.
"Stiles-" She breathed as his hands tightened around hers, arching up against him again in a desperate search for friction.
The scratch of denim was rough against her bare thighs as he shifted between her legs. The smell of his body wash still lingered on his skin from his morning shower and it filled her lungs with much needed oxygen while simultaneously filling her head with a giddy static that left her reeling, like the black and white fuzz of a channel that didn't come in on the television.
His lips trailed lower to leave hot kisses along her collarbones, his hands releasing her only so that he could slide her sweater from her shoulders, the strap of her dress following suit and slipping down past her elbow. His mouth was quick to find the newly revealed skin of her chest and she groaned while he stripped her of her cardigan completely, allowing him to tug it down her arms and toss it blindly over the side of the bed.
She pushed his own overshirt from his shoulders in response and his hands gravitated back to her skin the moment it was stripped away so that he could hike the fabric of her dress up, his thumbs pressing into her flesh intoxicatingly when he reached the tops of her thighs. She helped him drag the fabric up over her stomach and chest, tearing the dress over her head in a quick movement.
Stiles stared at her in awe for a moment before he was crowding her back against the bed to recapture her lips. Their tongues danced between hot breaths but eventually he was leaning down to reattach his mouth to the skin of her chest with wet kisses instead.
She felt his hands slip beneath her back to tug at the clasp of her bra. His mouth paused distractedly where he'd been kissing at her skin and the offer to assist him was on her lips when the fabric suddenly fell loose around her chest.
"Got it," Stiles boasted quietly, pulling the article from her body and throwing that behind himself as well, his lips immediately gravitating back to her chest, "Stupid demon contraption-" He muttered against her skin before sealing his mouth around a pebbled nipple.
The moan she let out was pornographic as her spine arched up from the mattress, chasing the feeling of his mouth, of his teeth scraping lightly against the bud while his thumb brushed lightly over her other breast.
It felt all too sudden when he pulled back and she blinked at him in confusion, feeling ridiculously disheveled from just fifteen minutes of kissing and a few seconds of his mouth on her tits.
"Hickeys," Stiles said simply as they looked at one another with lust-filled eyes. He licked at his swollen lips before continuing, "How do you feel about hickeys if they're not on your neck? Y'know? Is that still a no, or-"
She nodded wildly, "'S fine, that's fine."
An excited grin spread across his face and Amber wondered for a fleeting moment if she'd later regret granting him permission, but the thoughts were cast out of her mind the second he bit down on the sensitive flesh on the side of her breast, teeth sinking into the softness with a sudden and pleasurable sting.
She keened and gripped at the back of his neck as he sucked harshly on the sensitive skin before moving on to a new spot, his mouth leaving a smattering of biting kisses over both her breasts, littering her with spots in a wide array of pink and purple. He gripped her waist tightly, one hand holding her still as he worked while the other trailed down the outside of her thigh to pull her leg up around his hip.
When he finally kissed his way back up to her mouth, she angled her head to deepen the kiss immediately and reached between them to press her palm against the bulge beneath the zip of his pants as their tongues tangled. Stiles groaned into her mouth and she was quick to begin working at the button on his jeans, tugging it free and yanking down the zipper before pulling at the fabric at his hips.
He leaned back to rid himself of his jeans and slipped back into the space between her thighs in a flash, his hips rolling down against hers lightly as he reattached their mouths. He didn't waste any time before his lips were dragging back down her neck and chest, leaving a wet trail in their wake as he kissed and licked at her skin.
She was about to plead with him to do something but the words died on her lips when he moved lower, kissing a line down her stomach and nipping lightly at her hip bone before trailing lower still and repeating the treatment he'd given her breasts on the skin at the top of her thighs with teasing bites and kisses.
His fingers finally hooked beneath the waistband of her underwear and he slipped the fabric down her legs until they were out of the way, absentmindedly leaving them hooked around just one of her ankles in his rush to get back to the task at hand.
His head dipped down between her thighs tongue first and Amber cried out, gripping desperately at his shoulders over his shirt as he began to work his mouth against her clit.
"Yes," She praised simply in a low whisper, "S-shit."
He slid a hand up her stomach to massage her breast and she found herself having a hard time holding back the breathy noises that left her as he alternated between licking down at her entrance and moving a little higher up to flick his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves there instead. He swirled around her clit a few times, warm and soft and so fucking incredible, before he was flattening his tongue to apply more pressure.
"Sti-" She gasped, "Shit, y-yes. Just like- You- S-shit-"
Her chest was heaving with strangled breaths, fingers digging into his shoulders desperately as she tried to vocalize how good he was making her feel.
Her thighs began to tremble with the build of her orgasm, legs tightening around his shoulders as he worked her closer and closer to her peak. She was teetering on the edge, gasping and whining slack-jawed, when Stiles closed his lips around her clit and sucked lightly, his tongue still flicking against the nub, and her orgasm suddenly crashed over her in a wave of white-hot pleasure. Her hips twitched beneath him and his name spilled from her lips as her whole body jerked with her release.
He didn't back off until she began to wriggle uncomfortably beneath him from overstimulation. He haphazardly wiped the slick covering his mouth off against the love-bitten skin of her thigh before he crawled his way back up her body to drop his forehead against hers, their noses brushing lightly as she caught her breath.
"It- It's almost annoying how good you are at that." She murmured, tipping her chin up to catch his lips against hers lightly.
Stiles grinned in satisfaction at the compliment and he leaned down to slot their lips together more firmly, the taste of her own arousal lingering on his mouth.
After a moment of recovery, Amber reached down to wrap a hand around the hard line of his cock over his boxers, a surprisingly large patch of precome dampening the fabric, his length warm and heavy in her hand. He huffed a sharp breath into her mouth and she pulled back from the kiss slightly to peer up at him, watching the way his eyelashes fluttered and his lips parted as she tightened her fingers around him and worked her hand slowly.
Stiles groaned weakly when she released him but she ignored his noises of protest, forcing his boxers down his hips and pushing at his shoulders determinedly until he was laying on his back. She pulled her own underwear up over her thighs again before discarding his and settling between his spread knees.
He was achingly hard now, his cock long and thick where it curved up his stomach, the head of it red and leaking a small trail of precome into the dark hairs of his happy trail. She took him back into her hand while pushing the fabric of his shirt up his chest slightly, her fingers scratching through the damp trail of hair that led up from his groin before pressing into the tensed muscles of his stomach.
She fought not to cringe at the action as she spit over the tip and began to jerk him off in earnest, thumbing away the strand of connection to her mouth. Her embarrassment washed away in a flash of confidence when Stiles let out another devastatingly weak groan, the sound of it high and breathy.
Her hand tightened at the head, collecting the precome leaking from his tip and combining it with her own spit with an easy twist of her wrist before slipping her fist back down his length, the glide smooth and noisy with the slick of the makeshift lubricant.
She leaned down slowly after a moment of simply pumping him with her fist, guiding the head of his cock to her lips. She watched him watching her — watched the moment his eyes slipped shut with a curse and his thighs twitched as she wrapped her lips around the tip.
"Oh, shit." He hissed, hands tangling in her hair, his fingers fumbling to gather her it away from her face so he could watch her move with no obstructions when he looked down again.
She swirled her tongue around the head once, relishing in the stuttered noises of desperation that Stiles was letting out, the way his thighs twitched as he tried not to thrust up into the heat of her mouth, the muscles of his stomach growing firm beneath her palm as he tensed.
"Babe. Baby, I'm-"
As he moaned, she was tightening her fist around the base, sucking lightly at the head and suddenly, Stiles was coming with a groan, warmth coating her tongue as his muscles tensed further and his grip tightened in her hair. She pulled back slightly in surprise, swallowing what was in her mouth, the taste of it salty and slightly metallic. She rubbed her thumb over the slick tip while come continued to shoot out in weak spirts, watching her boyfriend twitch with the waves of his own release, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed rapidly beneath dark hair and pale skin.
"Holy.. shit." He whispered, hips jerking and eyes closed as the last dregs of his release coated her fingers.
She waited, momentarily mesmerized by the rise and fall of his chest with labored breaths, before she reached past him to grab a tissue and began to wipe the mess away from the bottom of his stomach and her hand. When she reached back up for a second tissue, Stiles halted her movements to look at her with wide eyes.
His thumb rubbed along her jaw softly, "Oh my god," He whispered, "I'm.. So sorry. I just.. Shit. I'm sorry." He repeated quietly, looking adorably flushed from embarrassment or his orgasm or possibly some combination of both.
"What exactly are you apologizing for?" She asked curiously, her hand trailing up his cheek as she reached up to drag her fingertips through the softness of his short hair.
He grimaced, "Well first off for having, like, zero restraint whenever you're on top of me and always embarrassing myself by coming in like ten seconds-" He began quietly, "But mostly for just coming in your mouth without any warning-"
Amber knocked their foreheads together as she snorted an amused laugh, "Mhm. Totally unforgivable.." She teased, "But I guess.. Just this once.."
She leaned down to give him a kiss but his head tipped away to avoid her lips as he continued.
"I'm serious. I swear I usually last longer, but-"
"Usually?" She repeated the word playfully, "What, when you're jerking off in bed all by yourself?"
His nose scrunched up cutely in annoyance, "Well, I.. Yeah."
She laughed, "Aw, Sti. I'm sorry that having a real life half-naked girl on top of you is proving so detrimental to your sexual stamina."
"It's just not the presence of a naked girl that's been ruining me. Y'know, just for the record," He said quietly, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear as he continued, "It's that it's you."
"You're ridiculous." She blushed despite herself.
"I'm serious," He corrected, "I've wanted you for as long as I can remember and as if listening to the sounds you make when I'm eating you out aren't bad enough, then you actually get your hands on me, tits out, and you look up at me with those freakin' eyes while you put my dick in your mouth?" He shook his head with a small smile, "Nope.. No fuckin' way. I don't stand a chance."
"You're a pretty smooth talker aren't you, Stilinski?"
"I'm not trying t-"
She silenced him with a kiss, their mouths separating and quickly reconnecting in fluid movements until she had no choice but to lean back so that they could both catch their breath again.
"We should probably get started on homework if we don't want to end up like Scott." She commented reluctantly.
"I'm not sure it's even possible to fall as far behind as Scott," Stiles squeezed her hip lightly, "But you're probably right."
Amber leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve his underwear, passing them to him before crossing the room to dig around in his dresser for something comfortable to wear, "What do you want to do for dinner? Is your dad working late or should we maybe wait for him-?"
As she spoke, her eyes caught on a rolled up bundle of white cotton at the back corner of the drawer and she pulled it out excitedly, rubbing her thumb over the faded logo on the front before tugging it over her head.
"Working late. Again." Stiles sighed as he stepped up behind her, swapping the drawers to pull open the one stuffed with his sweats and pajama bottoms. He paused in his search for a pair of pants and grabbed at her shoulder curiously, "What shirt-?"
His words cut off as she was turned to face him with an excited grin on her face. She stretched her arms out at her sides with a flourish as she showed off the shirt she'd uncovered from the depths of his dresser.
"How long d'you think it's been since this even fit you?" She laughed.
Stiles was staring distractedly at the way her hardened nipples poked out beneath the faded Star Wars logo covering her chest and he shook his head after a few seconds of deafening silence before responding, "I, uh.. I dunno. Maybe when I was twelve? Thirteen?"
The soft worn cotton of the shirt only reached the tops of her thighs, not quite long enough to cover her underwear completely and Stiles was weak to do anything but immediately crowd her back against the dresser. He toyed with the loose collar, fingers brushing against the column of her throat, and her heart stuttered at the warmth of his body pressed against her. His free hand slipped beneath the hem to run along her stomach, sliding back to the bottom of her spine while he tugged the collar to the side and dipped his head to press his lips softly to the base of her neck.
"Sti, we.. We're supposed to be getting dressed-"
"Maybe we should get undressed one more time, and then get re-dressed." He suggested before kissing her neck again.
"Homework. Studying.."
She sighed, closing her eyes and tipping her head to the side in contradiction to her words so that she could bask in the feeling of his mouth just a little longer. The knowledge that they needed to be responsible did nothing to quell the heat that pooled beneath lace as he nipped lightly at her skin, just soft enough to teasingly suggest the threat of a real bite.
She gripped the warm skin of his hips, fingernails digging into pale flesh as she let out a breathy sigh and relaxed back against the dresser.
She let him continue for a long minute before pushing him back slightly, cupping his face in her hands, "Homework. We'll do homework and eat something and then maybe, before bed.."
Stiles groaned, "Fine."
She kissed the pout on his lips lightly, "We're making good choices."
"Yeah, yeah. I know."
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jellymellydraws · 4 months
Text
Beautiful Scars
Summary: Rose (Durge) feels insecure about her mysterious scars. Astarion wants to reassure her that she has nothing to worry about.
Pairing: Astarion x femme!Durge (can work with Tav, but the scars are Durge lore specific)
Warnings: 18+ (suggestive, edging on explicit), bodily scars (slight TW for body image) Topless kissing
Word Count: 900
Their lips pushed against each other hungrily. He let her tongue slip in, dancing with his as they moaned softly. She ran her hands up his chest, tugging at the fabric in her way. A low groan left her as he pulled away, teasing her neck with kisses but refusing to let her hands succeed in their mission. He enjoyed denying her when she got greedy, she knew it.
Shivers ran down her back as he kissed along her neck, moving down towards her chest. Unfairly, he slipped his hand under her shirt. His fingers ran along the marred terrain of her flesh, taking her shirt with them. She let him, until a flash of her own bare reflection haunted her mind.
She pulled her hands off him, gripping the leftover fabric of her sleeves before he could fully bare her chest. Fuck, she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Quickly putting a smirk on her face, she tried to coyly kiss him. As if playing a game.
That would work on anyone, except him.
“Something wrong, my sweet?” He pulled his lips away, much to her protest, and leaned his forehead against hers.
‘Nothing,” she lied, leaning up to press a soft peck on his lips.
“Then why are you stopping me?” His hand rubbed down her arms, stopping at the bundle of shirt she used to shield herself, “you’re hiding from me.”
“No!” Her face turned red, answering much too quickly. Too defensive. A hurt expression crossed his features. Defeated, she leaned into the crook of his neck, “it’s not you…”
She didn’t have enough hands to hide all the marks that raised from her skin. Gods she hated this. Why tonight did she have to obsess over her scars? Why couldn’t she put them to the back of her mind, just as she did every other uncomfortable half-memory that bubbled its way to the surface?
He tilted her face to look at her. Those piercing eyes studied her face. Just as he always did when she became quiet around him. He wouldn’t let her retreat into the shadows, no matter how much she wished she could run.
“I might be feeling a bit…weird, about my scars,” she admitted, “if they were battle wounds, it’d be different. But I just…something about these feel wrong.”
“Hm…and so you want to hide them?”
She nodded.
“Sadly, they’re all over you, and hiding them is stopping me from— how is it that Aylin puts it?” He tilted her head, giving him the perfect angle to whisper into her ear “Adoring you.”
A soft gasp escaped her lips, and another shiver ran through her. Gods he knew exactly what to say to her. She continued tilting her head, exposing her neck to him. He smirked as he kissed down her jaw, gently pressing his lips against her neck.
“Let me see you, darling,” he cooed, trailing the tips of his fingers from collarbone to shoulder, “I want to indulge in all of you.”
As he kissed towards her chest, she let him lay her down. Goosebumps raised from her skin when the coolness of his flesh met the warmth of hers. She relinquished her shirt, interlocking her fingers with his as he moved them aside. Her other hand continued to grip her shirt, but no longer obstructed his view. Her heart raced as he hovered over the scar between her chest. Despite how much she loved his touch, her nerves wanted to prevail. He stopped, giving her a look for approval. She was terrified, almost shaking.
But he’s been good to her.
Safe.
Sweet.
She nodded, hesitantly, then leaned back as he worked.
Astarion kissed along the long scar. Slowly. Lovingly.
A hand to cup her breast, squeezing a soft moan from her. But his lips wouldn’t wander from the trail. His other arm snaked around her, pulling her close when his kisses reached the bottom of her ribs. Another scar crossed her navel, one he took his time with. Gradually, she relaxed in his hold. The tense grip she had on her shirt moved to gently caress his curls. His hum of approval tickled her.
He moaned into her flesh. She could tell he was holding himself back, restraining a more lustful kiss. What he was doing was deliberate. He wanted to take his time. To make her feel how much he wanted her. All of her.
Nothing mattered except how he made her feel. How he glanced up at her with a mischievous smile, brushing his fangs against the unscathed plot of stomach. Pressing more kisses along the jagged lines. It was as if they weren’t there, and yet it was all he focused on. Healed incisions from a time she can barely recall. A perfectly marked map that his lips followed like an experienced adventurer. She propped herself on her elbows to watch him.
He hovered over the edge of her trousers, taking their edge between his teeth. By this point she realized her breathes quickened. Ah, but he wouldn’t give so easily. Not when he promised to adore her. He chuckled, looking at the state he put her in.
“You’re a vision, my sweet,” he whispered, planting another soft, gentle kiss, “scars and all.”
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skyazureeclipse · 1 year
Text
misspelled silk
(tw for eyestrain/slight flashing images)
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