there is a slight shift in the windows and doors

can we pretend || stiles stilinski (!!)

author: @sincerelystiles
pairing: stiles x reader
word count: 2,783

warnings: kissing, teasing, swearing, fingering

authors note: i wasn’t too sure about writing or posting this at first, but after thinking it over multiple times, i decided to just do it. thank you so much to my baby @dylanobsessed for encouraging me that this was a good. i hope that by putting this out to you guys in such a way, will make you more aware of someone’s true intentions with you.

part one. // part two

summary: reader wants to make her ex jealous and stiles is more than wiling to help. although, things get a little too carried away. 

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Ever Heard of Knocking?

Kara had a bad habit of walking on Alex and Maggie during their, very limited, alone time.

Really, it was Alex’s fault because sometimes the noises she made weren’t exactly…innocent. Sometimes she lost control and found herself screaming under Maggie’s touch. Sometimes she couldn’t make a single coherent thought when Maggie asked her how she wanted to be fucked, but she just let out of the neediest groan known to man and Kara, having super-hearing and all, got scared.

She got scared because Astra had taken Alex prisoner as a trap for Supergirl.

Rick Malvern had taken Alex hostage for ransom that Supergirl had to fulfill.

Anyone could see that the love that Kara had for her sister could move planets, and fuck she would move planets to save Alex.

And so you really can’t blame Kara for bursting through the window of Alex’s open floor plan and searching frantically for her sister only to find her stark naked, back arched high off the bed, face contorted in pleasure, and Maggie’s dark hair between her legs.

“Oh, Rao! I did not need to see that!” Kara screeched, covering her eyes quickly.

Alex quickly scrambled to gather the comforter in her arms and around her body while Maggie, who was fully clothed, looked more irritated than embarrassed as she wiped at the corners of her mouth.  

“Kara, what are you doing here?!” Alex huffed, finally wrapped in her comforter. Maggie moved to gather a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from Alex’s dresser before handing it to her very flushed girlfriend.

“I-I heard you…making some sounds that sounded…less than…pleasant. I got a little worried and I had to come see what was going on.”

Maggie let her signature smirk fall across her lips before chuckling lightly. “Well, Little Danvers, I can assure you that every sound you heard was very pleasant.”

“Maggie.” Came as a whine from Kara but as a warning from Alex.

A loud cackle came from the tiny woman as she moved to place a quick peck to Alex’s pouted lips. “How about we move past this and I go make some of my, apparently, infamous homemade potstickers?”

Both Kara nodded quickly with a blush while Alex sighed with a nod.                                  

Maggie smiled her dimpled smile, Alex’s favorite, and made her way to Alex’s kitchen encouraging Kara to follow to give Alex some privacy to get dressed.



“Kara, I know you said you wanted to be alone, but I-OH MY GOD!” Alex screeched as she found Lena laid out on Kara’s spacious dining table with her legs wide open and a very eager Kara between them.

Kara quickly turned around, using her half clothed body to shield Lena from Alex’s view.

Alex, don’t you knock?!” Kara demanded, her face already beet red.

Alex spluttered for a moment before spitting out, “SUPERHEARING! Use it!”

Kara shook her head. “No. Nope. I tune in hard to Lena’s heartbeat from about 6 until 11 because you and Maggie are like animals and I don’t need to hear that.”

Lena chuckled from behind her girlfriend while Alex’s gaze shifted to the ground.

They both instituted a “sock-on-the-door/window” after that.

The winner of Prompt Pick #3!

“We’re not lost.”

Jeremy slides a skeptical sideways glance toward Michael, lips pulling into a frown when he notes the white-knuckled grip Michael has on the steering wheel. Though, Jeremy gets why, what with the blizzard roaring outside that’s making visibility but a fleeting concept. Jeremy wants to press further; he wants to tell Michael that they are very much lost down a winding road in the middle of nowhere with a survival rate that continues to plummet every time Michael’s car tires skid on black ice, but Michael looks stressed to the max and pushing the issue forward would only heighten the situation.

Instead, Jeremy drops back against the seat and crosses his arms over his chest to ward off the odd chill that’s been wafting around him since he left his house this morning. He would peg it on the atrocious weather outside, but the dull thump pounding against his temples tells him he’s most likely coming down with a cold, which is fine if they weren’t miles from civilization in a blizzard. But again, telling Michael won’t solve anything, so he clenches his jaw tightly to keep his teeth from chattering and drifts his gaze out to the passenger window.

He must drift off because an indeterminable amount of time later, he’s being gently shaken awake by a steady hand and a soft voice.

“Jeremy? Jeremy?”

A light yawn slips past Jeremy’s pressed lips as he turns his neck to face Michael. He notes with a slight frown that the car is pulled off somewhere, and he takes a moment to glance around with a question hot on his lips. “Where are we?”

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Meeting of the Minds

(Hello dears, This is the story of how a certain mob boss meets an odd little devil with a penchant for deals. Benny is a part of the Mob!Boss au, and this is the story of him securing the safety of one of his favorite hunting grounds with the thumbs up from the AU mastermind themself. For the origins of the Mob!Boss AU and one Benicio Drew, take a look at @thelostmoongazer and all of the beautiful works there! Please enjoy uvu)

Rosa sat at her desk, a slight frown on her face as she looked at the smug taller toon who sat across from her. “So ya see toots, I can’t letcha stay in business without a bit of protection ya see. This is a dangerous part o’ town..especially with you sellin’ that fine ink of yers..” Benicio said, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The human gave an even smile, seeming rather calm under his piercing gaze. “Of course~” She had replied, as though she was shopping for shoes, the composed demeanor of the woman irking him slightly. “Not ta bein’ human an’ all..that comes with its own dangers so..normally I’d say 60% of yer profits ought to be enough to keep things square, but since ya helped Angelface out, I’ll make it an even 50~,” The demon leaned forward, his tail whipping around behind him, eager to see what her reaction was. Much to his surprise, Rosa smiled as she reached for the phone on her desk and began to dial a number. Benicio stared at her, stunned at her gall to flat out ignore his words as she waited for whoever it was to answer.

“Ah Benny, I’m glad I caught you…Mr. Drew has come to see me at the Inkwell…You know, Abel’s friend? Yes, him…I thought you’d like to have a chat with him..” She said, looking to the tall demon with a smile before she offered the receiver. “For you~” Rosa said with a sweet smile. Benicio growled a moment, snatching it from her and putting the receiver up to his ear. “Yeah?” He asked, looking to Rosa with suspicion, though she merely returned his look with a warm smile. “Hey there kid, I thought it wouldn’t be long before I heard from you~ Now..I heard you an’ Rosa are cuttin’ a deal…but ya see, th’ Inkwell is my stompin’ ground…so I feel a bit responsible for it ya see?” Benny said, a wide grin on his face. “So…howsabout you come by my office on 45th and we have a nice chat about those protection payments huh? I wouldn’ want anything t’happen t’the place after all, especially since it’s where I do a good bit of my business.”

Benicio perked a brow at the voice over the phone and his tail flicked lightly behind him as he leaned against Rosa’s desk. “Well…if it’s that important to ya, I don’t see why not..I cut her a nice deal, but I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.” He smirked slightly as he listened to the other voice on the end laugh in delight. “Wonderful kid, I’ve been keepin’ an eye on you an’ Abel..I wondered when I’d get a chance t’finally meetcha. I couldn’t have asked fer better. Now..Rosa’ll give you the address, it ain’t far from the Inkwell. I’m on the top floor, the doorman’ll be expectin’ ya. See ya in half an hour kid. Don’t be late.” And with that, Benny hung up before Benicio could get a word in edge wise, leaving the tall toon stunned as he stared at the receiver for a long moment. “Cheeky bastard…” he muttered as he tossed the phone back to Rosa lightly who placed it gently back onto its cradle. “And…here’s the address..” She said, sliding a small square of paper over to him, her neat writing reading: 1313 45th street.

He huffed and snatched it lightly from her, giving her a slight glower. “I’ll be back if things don’t work out dollface…” He cautioned as he turned to go. “They will..I’m sure you and Benny will see eye to eye..” She remarked, giving him a gentle wave as he turned to glare back at her. “Have a wonderful day Mr. Drew..” Rosa said merrily. With a suspicious squint of his eyes, the mob boss made his way out of her office and down the stairs back into the front businesses below. He made his way to the weapons check, retrieving Shirley and tucking her back into her spot on the small of his back before he made his way outside. Benicio had to admit the place was nice…clean, well maintained, on par with Moon man’s place really. This dame had put a lot into the place, but he just couldn’t have her dealing in ink without cutting him a bit of the action, it just wasn’t right. Once he got his bearings, he huffed and set out towards this office building, his tail flicking behind him in annoyance.

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Crossfire - 10

Chapter 9
Yoongi x Reader
Gang AU
Chapter 10 // Words: 2352

It didn’t take the full two hours for everyone to pack up, mostly because of Namjoon standing impatiently by the garage, reminding everyone that he wanted to leave and get to the compound before the sun started to rise. The boys all dragged their luggage down to the main floor and debated over which cars to take. One of the younger ones suggested to take the Excursion, since it had enough seats for the eight of you and room for all the bags. That idea was a nightmare in itself, and you could feel your pulse quickening. Thankfully, Seokjin came to your rescue and advised that taking two separate cars, with four in each, would be much wiser. After it was decided that you were to ride with Namjoon - your opinion was not taken into consideration -, Jungkook and Yoongi volunteered to be in your car as well. To your dismay, Jungkook won the rock paper scissors game they played over who got to sit in the front. Yoongi smirked at you as he offered to put your bag in the trunk. You gave no response before you turned away quickly and got into the awaiting sedan, mostly to hide the fact that your cheeks were tinged pink.

As Yoongi had warned, the drive was very long and, as you had expected, it was excruciatingly awkward. The first half hour was spent in virtual silence until Jungkook complained about being bored and asked Namjoon for the aux cord. He happily plugged his phone and started to play his music, only to be chastised by both the older boys immediately for it being too loud. The music playing gave you something to focus on, but you were still hyper aware of every movement Yoongi made, no matter how slight. You refused to look at him, but you could catch every shift and sigh out of the corner of your eye. You remained pressed up against the child locked door, keeping as much distance as you could in the compact space. You leaned your head against the window and closed your eyes, even though you weren’t in the least bit tired. You just hoped that, with your eyes closed, you could pretend you were somewhere else.

You drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the ride, which made time pass by quicker. You were woken up a few times by bumps in the road, sharp turns and abrupt stops, as well as Yoongi criticizing Namjoon’s driving skills.

“I’m surprised they even gave you a license,” he scoffed.

“Calm down,” Namjoon shot back, looking at him in the rearview mirror. “I’ve never been in an accident, unlike someone I know.”

“Whatever,” Yoongi slouched in his seat, obviously defeated. “Keep your eyes on the road so you don’t kill us.”

“Hyung, aren’t you going over the speed limit?” Jungkook questioned, peering at the dash.

“Don’t talk about my driving until you get a license, kid,” Namjoon smirked.

Jungkook made a face and busied himself with his phone. “Stop calling me kid.”

When they fell quiet once more, you were able to go back to sleep for long enough that, the next time you woke up, you were pulling through the gates of the gang’s compound. Namjoon pulled the car up alongside the edge of the grass lawn and killed the engine. You blinked a few times to get your bearing as the others got out to stretch their legs. Namjoon opened your door for you as he went around to the trunk to retrieve the bags. You stepped out of the car and looked behind you to see the wrought iron gates sliding closed automatically, sealing you inside the tall concrete walls. You turned back to see the house and were surprised to see that you were facing a large, traditional hanok. The sky was beginning to lighten as the moon gave way to the rising sun, and you were allotted just enough light to see vague details of the house. The tiled black roof slanted over the white exterior walls, the few windows on the front surrounded by dark wood. You were stunned by how beautiful it was. Being a hideout for criminals, you had expected some run down, concrete building. If you had to be stuck anywhere, you were partially glad it was a place as nice as what you were looking at.

You jumped in surprise when you felt someone’s hand on your lower back, and you turned your head to see Yoongi with raised eyebrows.

“Are you just gonna stare at it, or do you actually want to go inside?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him before you turned and made your way up the grass lawn to the house behind Namjoon and Jungkook. You were even more surprised when you stepped inside the front door. The interior of the hanok was not traditional, like the home your father’s parents owned outside Ulsan. Instead, seemed newly renovated, with a modern style and amenities. The wood floors and beams of the ceiling matched the window accents outside, contrasting to the pale walls. Recess lighting above your head gave the entryway a warm, cozy vibe. You removed your shoes and stepped up into the living room, where a large black sectional couch surrounded a table and faced a flat screen television mounted on the wall. Everything seemed sleek and polished. That was, until the boys dropped all of their luggage right in the middle of the floor.

“We beat the others here,” Namjoon said confidently as he looked over at Jungkook. “And you thought I was going too fast.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook called over his shoulder as he turned a corner into what you assumed was the kitchen.

“Who’s the kid now?” Yoongi joked, sliding onto the couch with a sigh.

“Whatever, ahjussi,” Namjoon replied and took a seat opposite him.

They both pulled out their phones and didn’t take any notice of you. You didn’t want to sit on the couch with them and be awkward, so you opted to look around the house more. You followed Jungkook’s path and found that he was, indeed, in the kitchen. He was digging around in some of the cabinets. A smile made its way onto his face when he found what he had been searching for, and he pulled out a rice cooker and set it up on the counter. He stood and turned to look at you.


You nodded. A glance over at the microwave showed that it was 4:42 AM, making it a solid 16 hours since you’d last eaten. However, you found that you weren’t very hungry; you’d hardly had any appetite since you’d been abducted. But you knew you couldn’t keep it up, and you needed food in your system unless you wanted to get sick or something.

You watched as Jungkook got the rice maker going, and you went to peek inside the fridge. Sadly, it was empty aside from drinks.

Jungkook peered over your shoulder and sighed. “I really hope Jin hyung stopped to get groceries.”

“Jungkook, it’s 4 in the damn morning, I doubt that any stores would be open,” you said.

“Ah, you’re right,” he smiled and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “My sense of time has been a little fucked lately.”

“That makes two of us,” you said as you leaned against the counter.

“The others just pulled up,” Namjoon entered the kitchen, cracking his neck. He looked over to where Jungkook had the rice cooker set up. “You’re cooking?”

“I’m starving. The only thing we have is rice, though,” he said dejectedly.

“Yeah, it’s been awhile since anyone’s stayed here,” Namjoon said, looking around. “I think we should stay here often.”

“Then what would I do with my apartment?” Yoongi asked, suddenly beside Namjoon.

The leader smirked. “Use it as a getaway for when you get tired of the younger ones.”

“Yoongi hyung enjoys our company,” Jungkook claimed. “We make him less of a boring recluse.”

“Debatable,” the blond said. He moved past you to get a water from the fridge.

The front door opened and a wave of voices and the sounds of luggage being dropped unceremoniously onto the floor filtered into the kitchen. The other four members appeared shortly, and Seokjin placed some plastic bags on the island.

“We stopped at a convenience store and picked up something to hold us off until the stores open,” he said. “Someone is making rice?”

“I am,” Jungkook smiled proudly.

The eldest smiled back at him and patted his shoulder. “Thank you, JK.”

Hoseok opened up the bags and drew out multiple packages of instant ramen, stacking them on the counter. “This is all they really had besides junk.”

“I still say we should’ve gotten chips,” Taehyung chimed in.

“Yeah, so you eat an entire bag and complain later that your stomach is upset,” Jimin teased.

The taller male rolled his eyes and elbowed Jimin on his way to one of the cabinets in search of a pot large enough for all of the ramen.

Seokjin started to unwrap the individual packages. “We’ll make a list for what we want to eat. I can go as soon as the grocery store opens.”

“I want beef,” Jungkook said.

“We should get pork, too,” Namjoon added.

Taehyung took the large stainless steel pot to the sink to fill it with water. “Can we get snacks as well?”

Yoongi sucked air through his teeth. “I think we should set a limit, shouldn’t we? We aren’t going to be staying here forever.”

“Don’t be a buzzkill, hyung,” Hoseok placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. “It’s always better to be over prepared, isn’t it? Besides, we need to make sure Y/N is comfortable.”

The group of boys looked over to where you stood in the corner of the kitchen, as if they had just become aware of your existence. It wouldn’t take a behavior analyst to find that the bond between the seven of them was near unbreakable. You couldn’t even feel left out, because it was so easy to see that you didn’t have a place amongst them to begin with; you were simply a temporary intruder in their lives.

“Is there anything you want to eat?” Seokjin asked you.

You disliked how the attention was suddenly all on you, with fourteen eyes watching and waiting. You were perfectly fine just standing in the corner and being an observer. You subconsciously pressed your back further into the wall.

“Uh,” you looked off to the side attempts of finding an answer in the negative space. “I don’t know…”

“You can just think and write it down later,” Seokjin gave you an understanding smile, and you felt like you could breathe again. “And the rest of you,” he said, “stop crowding the kitchen and go put your stuff away.”

The boys mumbled and laughed and nudged Seokjin gently on their way out of the kitchen to gather the bags that were strewn on the living room floor. Yoongi lagged behind a bit and looked at you.

“Come on, I’ll show you where you’re staying,” he said with a jerk of his head.

You shuffled out of the room and followed him as he carried you bag as well as his own out a door and into a square garden. You gazed over the small expanse that was covered with grass, thin trees and flowers as you continued along a covered patio towards an open hall lined with doors. Yoongi guided you to one on the end and opened the door.

“We don’t have that much space with all of us staying here, so you’re going to stay in my room,” he explained.

You hesitated to step up into the room after hearing that. You wanted to stay as far away from Yoongi as possible. But, because of your fantastic luck, you had to share not only a house with him, but a bedroom as well. Even though he had turned the light on, the room looked foreboding.

His face reappeared in the doorway, looking impatient. “I’m planning on crashing in Jin hyung’s room at night,” he said. “But, if you’re worried about being lonely, I can surely-”

You shook your head and walked inside, moving past him quickly. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged.

You looked around at the quaint room, almost surprised by the normalcy of it. It reminded you of the bedroom in his apartment, with white walls and a fluffy white comforter on the twin bed against the wall. There was a simple desk by the window, with a lamp and papers scattered on it. You could see ledger lines and what resembled music notes scribbled on them. You watched as Yoongi set the bags away by the foot of the bed and turned to look at you.

“Is this suitable for you, your highness?” he asked, one side of his mouth quirked up into a smirk.

You glared at him. “It’s fine.”

“Can I get you anything to make you more comfortable? Some more pillows? Fresh spring water from the Himalayas?”

“Oh my god,” you growled under your breath before turning to leave the room.

You could hear him laughing quietly behind you as you went back down the row to return to the main part of the house. Yoongi, that fucking sadist, seemed to be getting off on trying to push your buttons and get a negative reaction out of you. It was bad enough that he had deceived you and kidnapped you, but he just had to take it a step further to make your life hell, like the mean high school girls in dramas. You didn’t know how much more of his taunting you could take. You paused and looked at the garden and all the rooms down the hall, memorizing the layout. You made a plan to explore the rest of the house after you ate so that you could finalize a way to escape.

You weren’t going to play the victim any longer.

Chapter 11

Byrne: Part One

Continuation of Heart

He hadn’t wanted to see her. It had taken all the self control he had learned courtesy of his mother to keep from ripping her tongue from her throat. Her end would have been unsatisfactory and that wasn’t what he wanted.

He wanted her to feel pain, the unending squeeze in her heart, the unending questions and regrets. There was nothing in the world that amounted to that pain, that loss, but he would try his hardest to make sure she felt it. To make sure they all felt it.

“I’m so sorry”

The nerve of that woman. For her to stand there and tell him she was sorry. For her to look at him, a monster she had created. A monster all of them had created. And she had the nerve to say she was sorry.

Not too sorry, considering she was ready to burn him to ashes. Luckily, he didn’t burn as easily as his mother had. He shook the thoughts out of his head and he turned on his feet again.

Not that it mattered, anyway. He was winning. He was doing what he had set out to do. They were all there. All except for Ciel. Byrne rubbed his temples at the thought. He stared down at the short note in his hand and he gently stroked behind the shadow-raven’s head.

It bit his finger and Byrne raised an eyebrow. “I don’t bleed,” He said dryly, even a joke maybe. The shadow-raven narrowed its eyes. Byrne held out his hand and the raven was slowly sucked into his palm. Byrne groaned and he felt slightly better. Slightly. The note was short but not sweet. The witch-boy bleeds blue. Do you? We travel soon.

Byrne slowly crumpled the note in his hand, until it was nothing but a small ball. He let the darkness wrap around it and when it pulled back, there was nothing. Why should she care if he bled blue?

His bones had a slight tingling to it as he travelled down the stairs. Byrne wasn’t sure if it was from the slight fatigue of shifting and winnowing so many times. Not to mention transporting so many people, within such a small window of time. Maybe it was just his anger.

The musty smell filled his senses and he lifted his head. He had arrived. Byrne pressed his hand against the door and tendrils of darkness slowly spread like wildfire. Byrne cringed and he stepped through the door.

At his presence the room seemed to hum. He walked down the stone spiral steps, his feet hitting the surface softly. The patterns of his breathing were even and calm. Unlike the quick breathing of those who awaited him.

When he finally entered the circular room the torches lit up in his presence. Byrne shuddered when a torch lit up too fast, warming his skin. He walked past the only empty cell left, for Ciel Blackbeak, before he found the first face.

Byrne smiled and he calmly knelt down before the figure, holding onto the bars. “Come into the light, I haven’t got all day,” He spoke tilting his head to the side. The figure slowly moved and Byrne grinned when the Lion appeared.

“You,” Gavriel snarled, gripping onto the bars harder. His pointed ears perked up and Byrne watched as the poor cat looked around for his mate. “You’re-”

Byrne held up his hand and Gavriel’s lips shut. His eyes widened, realizing his body was no longer his own. “Not yet, Cat” He smiled coolly before moving on. Byrne’s shadow pressed against the walls and his pointed ears stood up when he reached Sam and Lyria.

He held back his growl and he studied them. While Lyria looked like her father, the soft blonde white hair and the bright green eyes, Sam was a mirror image of his mother. Shocking waves of blonde hair that curled around the bottom of his ears, and those insufferable Ashryver eyes.

While Lyria had gotten her father’s wind and ice, Sam had gotten his mother’s flame. Byrne obviously held more hate for Sam, but that did not mean he didn’t detested the sharp planes of his sister’s face. Byrne wondered if they thought they were evenly matched.

Lyria launched herself at the bars and Byrne gave her a lazily smile. Lyria slammed her hands against the bars and they barely groaned against her super-strength. He tilted his head to the side, watching her and her twin as they tried to summon their magic.

He’d always hated that fire. Wind, he could deal with. A hawk, he could deal with. It was that wretched fire that wanted to make him tear Sam’s throat out. “It’s warded. I wouldn’t bother trying to use your magic”

“Who are you,” Sam Ashryver asked again. Byrne crooked his finger and he smiled, leaning in slightly.

“I am a monster of your mother’s creation. But there will be time for my story in just a short while. Ciel isn’t here yet” Sam sat up straighter at the mention of his mate and he slammed his hand against the bars.

“Don’t touch him!” The male screamed and Byrne leaned back on his heels, watching as Sam slammed against the bars again and again. He studied his reactions, the reactions he had when it came to his mate.

“Sadly, my mother” The word tasted bitter on his tongue, “called Ciel. She has a thing against male witches” Byrne’s eyes grew dark and Lyria narrowed her own. Byrne swallowed and he raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” The female slowly sat back down.

“Why are you doing this?” Another voice said. Byrne turned around and he looked at the human. He could smell her fear, even though she was trying to mask it. He could respect that. Pity she was wrapped in all of this. He never considered her as a variable, seeing as her parents were useless twats, but there she was.

“For a while I didn’t know,” Byrne admitted. He stood up and he dusted off his pants. He walked towards the stairs and began his climb, the flames flickering out as his shadows engulfed them. “For a while I didn’t know what to do with my beating heart,” Byrne turned around and he smiled from the top of the stairs, even as there was a tight squeeze in his chest.

“But I finally know what to do now. I shall see you all very soon,” Byrne bowed his head, before slamming the heavy door shut.


Too Late - Liam Dunbar Imagine

*Listen here*

*Requested: Can you do a Liam imagine where Y/N is dying like she was attacked or something and he’s scared and takes her to the hospital…*

Tires spin against cool gravel as her car races down the desolate road. Under present circumstances, driving alone at such a late time of night is not the smartest decision. Unlike her friends, her body is not built to withstand excessive amounts of trauma. She’s fragile in the most pure sense. Her bones, they break. Her skin, it tears. Her body does not fight with animal like ferocity to stay alive. What an inconvenience it is to be so utterly human.

Her phone is propped against her cheek as a voice leaks through the speaker. She’s trying to pay equal attention to the road and the nervous rambling of the boy on the other end. 

“I wish you would have had Stiles pick you up,” Liam sighs, anxiety reeking in his tone.

“Liam, I am a big girl who can drive herself to and from places. I don’t need bodyguards with me every moment. I’m not even on the dead-pool for Christs sake,” she grumbles tiredly.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you…” he whispers, his voice timid.

“We’ve been over this, Li. You already have so many things to worry about. I don’t need be one of them,” she squeezes the steering wheel a little tighter. Don’t do this. 

“You really think your resistance changes anything? You can choose how you want to handle the situation, but you can’t tell me how to feel,” he snaps in frustration.

“I don’t want to do this right now. Besides, talking on the phone while driving is that much more dangerous.”

“You don’t have to have a conversation with me. Just put your phone on the console and sing along to the radio or something. I just need to know that you’re alright,” his voice returns to a quiet, shy tone.

A blurry figure materializes in the distance, it’s stance rigid.

“I’m a horrible singer, you know that. You’re subjecting yourself to roughly 10 minutes of ear bleeding torture,” a small smile plays at her lips.

“I don’t think so. I love the sound of your voice,” he blushes, thankful that she can’t see him.

“Oh, so you’re saying you love the sound of a thousand wailing cats? You’re such a fu- SHIT!” she screams as her car collides with a tall object.

The momentum causes the car to go tumbling sideways, while the obstruction does not waver at the collision. The sound of heavy metal slamming against concrete echoes into the empty space, but no one is around to hear it. Now that the phone call has been disconnected, no one can hear her screams.

The car seizes its tumbling, landing on its side. Her throbbing head rests against the steering wheel. Gravity pulls her towards the passenger door, but the seat-belt keeps her suspended.

She lifts her head slowly, weary of any broken bones.The slight shifting and flexing of muscles determines that there has been no major injuries. Bruising and minor abrasions are the only wounds sustained. Thank God.

She looks around for her phone, but she can’t spot it in the wreckage. Her thoughts wander to Liam, who must be having an anxiety attack at this point. She aches to soothe him of the terrible scenarios that are surely running rampant in his troubled mind. 

The glass of all of the windows has been shattered. The fragments twinkle under the moonlight. She wraps a tiny hand around the frame of where the Plexiglas should be. Once she has a secure grip, she moves her other hand to unbuckle the seat-belt. Gravity tugs at her slender frame once the support has been removed. 

She hoists herself up and out the window to sit on the side of the car. Her legs dangle over the edge as she struggles to regain composure. She turns her head to observe the scene. To her astoundment, there’s nothing there. She slides off the car, a thud resonating as her feet strike the ground.

Shards of glass crunch under her feet as she navigates away from the wreckage. Confusion laced with untraceable fear settles in. This doesn’t make sense. She felt the impact. She hit something. A low rumble registers in her ears, she turns around hesitantly. 

The sight that greets her watering eyes chokes the breath from her lungs. A creature of at least 10 feet stands before her, its skulled mask giving away no emotion at all. Sharp appendages protrude from its massive frame. A berserker. 

She had heard the pack mention the menacing creatures before, but up until now she has been able to evade them. She did not partake in the roadtrip to Mexico. She was not present at the hospital a few days ago. Now she’s confronting the beast head on. She has no weapons, no means of protection. 

The berserker tilts its head to the side. It’s almost as if it were sizing her up. A small, fragile thing like herself has no dense. She doesn’t stand a chance. What an inconvenience it is to be so helplessly human.

A woman steps out from behind the beast, her faced marred by supernatural enhancements. The skin of her face is a deep blue. A blue that, in any other context, would be dazzling. Her eyes glow a vibrant green while her nose has reconstructed itself to mimic the shape of a jaguar’s. Kate Argent.

“It’s a little late to be driving around by yourself. It’s a little unsafe. Don’t you think?” Kate marvels.

Kate and the berserker advance in her direction. She takes a step back.

“What do you want? I didn’t do anything. I’m just a human,” to her surprise, her voice comes out steady.

“Oh sweetie, you are just a human. But you're their human, and I need you to give them a message,” Kate smiles wickedly.

“What’s the message?” she asks tentatively.

The berserker moves quickly. Too quick for her to process or react. Suddenly a sharp pain shoots through her lower abdomen on the right side. She looks down to see one of the berserker’s sharp appendages plunged into her torso. Her lips part, but no sound comes out. A silent scream.

The berserker retracts, removing the impalement. Dark blood runs out of the gaping wound like water runs out of a faucet- steady and unyielding. She falls to her knees, her handing moving to put pressure on the opening. The edges of her vision begin to blur, her body becoming too heavy for her to support. She falls to the ground with a quiet thud. 

Kate approaches the fallen girl, an unemphatic grin stretching her mouth. She leans down so her lips are mere centimeters from her ear.

“You are the message.”


Shouting and the pattering of feet disturb the peaceful night. They’re tumbling out from the powder blue jeep, sprinting before their balance is regained.

Liam reaches her first, his heart slamming against his chest cavity.She lies on her side with one arm loosely clutching her lower abdomen. Dark red blood stands out lividly against her fair skin. He crouches down to be level with her body. He can hear her heart beating softly, the beats much too slow to give him any comfort. He tucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep the sobs caged in his throat.

Scott mimics Liam’s stance, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. Liam looks up at the alpha, his lip falling out from between his teeth. His lips are quivering, his shoulders trembling. 

“I knew something like this was going to happen. I fucking knew it!” Liam yells, salty tears leaking from the corners of his sorrowful eyes.

“We need to get her to the hospital,” Scott says softly.

Liam nods in agreement. He scoops her body up in his arms gingerly, careful not to jar her too much.

“Please, please don’t leave me,” he whispers softly to the unconscious girl bleeding out in his arms.


The sterile scent of hospital instantly fills their noses as they rush through the doors. The three boys shout for help, their voices cracking with urgency. Mrs.McCall comes to their aid immediately, placing her on a hospital bed. She works quickly, tearing away the fabric that hides the severity of her wound. 

With the fabric of her shirt pulled away from her lower abdomen, the wound appears even more gruesome. The skin around the edges is raw. The center is a pool of blood. Melissa gasps, pushing the bed away from the lobby. The three boys chase after her, worry making them nauseous.

She and Melissa disappear through a set of doors that the boys are not allowed to enter. They slump against the wall, their weary heads falling into the hands. 


Minutes that feel like hours pass. Scott can hear exactly what is being said, while Liam only catches every few words. Hemorrhaging. Too much blood loss. Too late.

Too late.

Finally, Melissa emerges from the doors. A sullen, morose expression has morphed her usual cheeriness. They already know what she’s going to say before the painstaking words leave her mouth.

“I’m so sorry. There’s nothing we can do to help her,” her eyes water.

We were too late.

Stiles bites his lips together roughly, bringing his fist up to rest under his nose. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, tears sliding down the side of his face. It was bad enough the first time. They can’t lose someone again. Not again. They had failed to protect someone who could not protect themself. 

“Scott,” Liam chokes out between sobs, “Scott, please. Please do something. You can fix this." 

Scott looks at his beta with sad eyes. Liam never knew Allison. In fact, he has never even heard of the brave huntress. He didn’t know her kind smile, her fierce loyalty to her friends. He didn’t know the pain of losing her, and Scott didn’t want him to. They’re all too young to have felt such grief, especially Liam. Scott wants to protect him from the irreparable, unhealable pain that accompanies loss.

"Is her heart still beating?” Scott addresses his mom.

“Yes, but not for much longer,” she sighs.

“Mom, I-I have to try,” he pleads.

“Okay,” she nods in understanding, gesturing for the boys to follow her.


She looks so delicate underneath the harsh lights of the empty operating room. A mask is placed over her mouth to assist with breathing. Her chest rises and falls rhythmically from the forced inhale and exhale of oxygen. Liam and Stiles stand at her left side as Scott lifts her forearm gently. Scott studies the pale skin and blueish purple veins that twist throughout her arm. There’s no guarantee that she’ll survive this, but he has to try.

Scott’s warm brown eyes flash to a bright red as his teeth become pointed. He bows his head to rest his lips against the inside of her arm. The sharp fangs pierce her soft flesh, blood oozing out the corners of his mouth. He retracts after a few seconds, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve as his features turn back to human. 

“And now we wait,” Stiles sighs heavily, patting Liam on the back.

Liam moves to stand by her head, hesitant to leave her even just for a few minutes. She had been involved with supernatural creatures long before he moved to Beacon Hills, but he can’t help but feel responsible for her current state.

He thinks back to the previous weeks. The upperclassman had immediately taken a protective affection over the young beta. He was shocked that she would pay so much attention to him. That she would grow to care for him so much. 

He tried so hard to keep his feelings for her platonic. Afterall, an upperclassman would never go for a freshman. He attempted to distance himself from her to keep his feelings under control, but she was having none of that. She confronted him not too long after he made the decision to avoid her. He made up some bullshit excuse about trying to focus on school, but she saw right through that. She demanded to know the real reason for his coldness, so he told her.

Her reaction wasn’t clear or direct. She rambled. A lot. She was concerned for his well being. He needed to get his new found abilities under control above anything else. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the words that spilled nervously out of her mouth. But she never once mentioned his age, or the gap between them, so the tiniest inkling of hope kept him hanging on.

Scott’s guiding hand snaps Liam out of his revere. He leads his two companions out of the room into the lobby to wait- to pray that she’s strong enough to survive this.


Hours pass by. It feels like an eternity. They can’t see it from the windowless room in which they wait, but the sun is beginning to rise. Vibrant yellows, oranges, and pinks decorate the once purple and black sky that they had last seen. 

While they hate waiting, once the waiting is over, so is their grace period. Waiting allows one to still have hope in the outcome of the situation. Once that period has ended the outcome cannot be unseen, cannot be unheard. They have been able to hope that she is alive, but that may not be the case. They may have to experience the excruciating, crushing pain of loss once again, and they’re not so sure they can bear it. Not again.

They peak their heads through the open door hesitantly. Her chest is still rising and falling with breath. Scott wasn’t too late with the bite, but whether or not she can survive that is another debacle completely.

They move to flank her sides, holding their breath subconsciously. Scott lifts her arm to inspect the spot that he had marked her.

“Oh thank God,” Scott sighs with relief. He tilts her arm to show Liam and Stiles that the bite had healed. She did it. She survived.

“We weren’t too late,” Liam exhales heavily, dropping into a chair beside her resting figure.

Stiles and Scott take a seat in two chairs in front of the hospital bed, anxious for her to regain consciousness.

Liam reaches for her hand, playing with her lengthy fingers. Her skin is cool on his sweltering skin. He lets his eyes travel up her body, starting with the smooth skin at the base of her throat. He wonders what her skin would look with purple splotches across the pristine skin and prominent collarbones. His heart races at the thought and Scott quirks an eyebrow as he notices the difference. Liam blushes furiously, turning his scorching cheeks away from Scott.

Liam glazes over the rest of her, moving past her lips quickly to avoid any other thoughts that could increase the speed of his already racing heart. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he notices that her eyes are open, and she’s looking right at him.

“What are you doing?” she smirks slightly, her voice a little hoarse.

“He’s ogling over you per usual. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few unholy thoughts crossed his mind in the process,” Stiles chimes in.

“Shut up,” Liam growls, embarrassment further darkening the blush on his cheeks.

Stiles chuckles, holding up his hands defensively.

She reaches out her hand to brush her fingers over Liam’s cheeks.

“You’re cute when you blush,” she notes matter-of-factly.

“W-what?” Liam’s eye widen a bit, becoming flustered.

“I mean you’re cute in general, but you’re extra cute when you do that,” she smiles.

“Like little brother cute?” Liam frowns.

“What?” her face scrunches up, “No not at all. I’ve never thought of you like a little brother. Hell, you look older than me. I have this theory that you’re not actually 15 because sometimes you looks like a grown ass man. I mean c'mon, what 15-year-old has arms like that,” she laughs lightly. 

“You are young for our grade, too,” Scott nods to her in encouragement. 

Stiles grabs Scott by the arm to drag him out of the room, giving the two betas some privacy. 

“You scared the hell out of me,” Liam confesses.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t want to live my life any differently, but I guess I have to. I have to be more cautious,” she sighs.

“We can protect each other,” he gives her a small smile, and gives her hand a reassuring squeeze.

She nods in agreement, returning the smile.

“Hey, Liam.”



He leans forwards so his face is right next to hers.


She places a hand behind his neck to press her lips against his. His eyes go wide with shock. Sure he had dreamt of this happening, but he never thought it would become a reality. 

His eyes flutter shut as a warmth spread throughout his body. Her lips are soft against his as they move in sync. They fit together perfectly. It’s like he already has her memorized.

“What changed?” he whispers against her lips.

“I almost died. That made me rethink some of my choices,” she admits with a soft giggle.

“I’m glad we weren’t too late,” he rests his forehead against hers, kissing her nose gently.

She tilts her head up to give him another sweet kiss.

“I’m glad I wasn’t too late.”

*Gif credit: alphabadass*


The Happiest Days of Our Lives

Background: You don’t know Peter, but he definitely knows you, the girl who lives a few houses down from him and probably steals more than he does.


Warnings: fluff, stealing

Words: 1,233 words (nice)

A/N: I listened to First by Cold War Kids and the album ‘You’re Gonna Miss It All’ by Modern Baseball while I made his oneshot, and I highly recommend them. Also, you have a little sister now, congrats. If you didn’t have a little sister, you get one now, and if you do have one, they’re here, welcome them to the peter fic.

It was getting colder by the second. I mean, it was sort of his own fault since no one was making him stand outside in the rain. He had just been fast forwarding through dumb romance movies he stole from the store down the street. Peter wouldn’t have stolen them if the guy at the desk wasn’t such a dick though, so he didn’t feel bad about it. Since a habit of his was to be extremely bored, he figured he might as well watch them. He was halfway through the Notebook, dozing off, when he stirred at the sight of the rain scene. To be completely honest, he was thinking of you that day, which had also become a habit of his lately. His mind wandered to a night earlier that month.

*~third person~*

The girl strolled into the store, whistling slightly under the sodden, faded yellow hoodie. Her eyes seemed to hold that little shine you always see on raindrops. Her black, laced up boots were rhythmically tapping up the checkered floor. Almost like a twitch, she turned so quickly it was like lightning. Her fingers caressed the plastic covering the loaf of bread, and she dropped it into her basket. This cycle continued with a pie, a box of crayons, some crafting scissors, construction paper, and four water bottles. Peter stood in the back of the store, quietly observing her. It was interesting, the way she picked out things to buy like she was drafting them for war. It hadn’t occurred to him what kind of war until her whistling suddenly ceased and she zipped out the door without so much as a wave. His powers came in handy at this moment, using them to run a bit down the street, watching in slow motion as the clerk chased her, a smile on her face. That little shine in her eyes seemed to shift into a spark, her excitement evident. After getting halfway down the street, the clerk gave up, muttering curses under his breath as she kept up the pace. She finally slowed in front of a peach colored house, resuming the whistle and walking up the steps, swinging the door open and not even trying to hide the grin on her face. Peter sped to the outside of one of the windows, watching as she put away the groceries, giving the scissors, crayons, and construction paper to a little girl who giggled with her about nothing in particular. As she was about to gaze out the window, Peter disappeared to his house, only a few houses down from yours. That night he stayed up and wished he had recorded the whistle, wanting to listen to it forever.

*~regular point of view~*

The girl on the TV seemed to be really into the kissing in the rain, which Peter figured was a universal thing, considering how his mom softly sighed when she used to watch it. An idea occurred to him and suddenly he didn’t feel so tired anymore, planning an elaborate scheme. That’s how he found himself blowing the hair out of his face, standing in the rain impatiently. He had been there for two minutes before realizing he should probably ring the doorbell, doing so in a rapid fashion, then returning to his place mid-way down the driveway. 

You had a baseball bat in hand, ready to whack the first person that tried to mug you. After all, you were the woman of the house, having only you and your sister there. Unlocking the door, the cold wind flew in as you spotted a boy in the yard wearing a baseball cap and goggles, appearing to be waiting for you. Grabbing an umbrella and slipping on some dirty yellow rain boots, you cautiously walked outside, reminding your sister to stay in the closet until you were sure everything was okay. As soon as Peter spotted the over-sized Pink Floyd shirt and the loose black jeans, he knew he was a goner.

“Mind enlightening me as to why you’re standing in my yard, in the rain?” you raised an eyebrow, parting your lips slightly and looking him over. He scratched the back of his neck before answering. 

“I was wondering if you wanted to go out some time?” The boy smiled, as if trying to make up for how strange it was. You laughed a bit, to his confusion and dismay.

“How do you even know me? I got out of high school like four years ago…” you questioned, your eyebrow still raised. It was flattering, but still a bit creepy as you had never met him before today.

“I noticed you stealing stuff the other day. I happen to do that sometimes too, so don’t worry, I won’t tell,” he assured you, “I don’t know your name though. Mine’s Peter, Peter Maximoff.”

“Mine’s (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N). So you were stalking me? That’s comforting. Plus, that still doesn’t exactly explain why you’re out here in the rain, Peter.”

“No, no! I didn’t mean I was watching you, I meant that, you were sorta distracting…and I thought rain was supposed to be romantic and stuff…”  He offered his best explanation, knowing he had a tendency to act impulsively. You had begun laughing really, really hard.

“Oh my…you’re so…you’re so emo!” you managed in between bouts of laughter. Peter was obviously very distraught and disappointed, turning away to run off, until you grabbed his wet jacket. “No, don’t leave, it’s sort of cute. I’ll be right back, wait here.” you announced, sprinting back inside and telling your sister it was okay to come out, grabbing a towel in the process. You returned outside with the towel folded, handing it to Peter.

“Hey, I’m not completely broke, you know, I have towels at home.” he clarified, placing a hand on his hip.

You chuckled a bit, biting your lip, “I know. It’s for on the way home, since I can’t spare an umbrella. You can bring it back tomorrow when you come over.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll be sure to return it.” he promised, smiling hugely.

“Hey, before you go.” You tapped his shoulder as he was about to depart. 


You placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Peter could’ve sworn he felt a slight spark from your lips, almost like lightning. He blushed a deep shade of pink, startled. It swiftly shifted to an expression of intense happiness as you left him in the driveway, running back to the door and closing it behind you. 

Outside, Peter opened the towel and saw a little piece of paper fall out of it. Grabbing it before it could hit the ground, he read out the ten little digits and recognized what they were soon after. You caught your little sister staring at the window at something, fascinated. “Hey, whatta ya lookin’ at, punk?” 

She giggled a bit, pointing outside. Peter was pumping his fists in the air, screaming to the skies at 7:00 at night, “TAKE THAT, WORLD! SHE GAVE ME HER NUMBER! WOO-HOO!” You shook your head, smiling.

“Who’s that?” your sister asked, still watching Peter annoy the neighbors, one man even coming out of his house to yell at him, Peter yelling back something like ‘SHE LIKES ME, BRO, THIS IS INSANE!’

“That’s Peter. He’s a dork,” you replied, grinning at the boy outside your window, “But he’s my dork.”

Delinquent!calum called you at 3 am and asked you to come around to an address you didn’t know. It was too early for him to pull this shit. But as you packed your bag, you realized you didn’t care because it was calum, and you didn’t have the heart to reject him.
The place he gave you was a crap apartment building that you’d be happier -and probably safer- not entering. You eventually reached a door at the end of the third floor and walked in, seeing that it was open. You tried hard not to react too badly at the shit state the place was in. Calum was better off staying in the hallway.
“What the hell is he doing here?” you whispered to yourself. you shifted your gaze from the ripped sofa to the stained window. “Cheapest thing I could afford for the night.” you turned to see calum sitting at a table and looking at you with a slight smile, which quickly turned to a grimace as he moved to put his cigarette out.
Calum looked worse than the room; black eye, busted lip and, judging from the blood stains on his white shirt, a hell of a lot of cuts and bruises. You sighed but didn’t say a word. You took the bag off your shoulder and pulled out a can of disinfectant spray, a rag and a bottle of water. Calum gave you a look as you cleaned his face, prompting you to say something. So finally, you did.
“A text would have been nice.” you pressed the rag hard into the cut on his eyebrow, making him wince. “I know. I’m sorry.” he tried to get you to look at him, but gave up when you pulled his shirt off and made your way down his body with the spray and the rag.
You were used to this, calum disappearing for a few days, maybe a week. He’d come to your dorm and you’d tend to whatever injuries he got. This time he’d been gone for 3 months. Three months of worrying if he was even still alive. He’d never tell you what he did while he was gone. No, he didn’t want you to get ‘involved’. Whatever the hell that meant.
So you didn’t ask. You never asked about the knives, or the gun you found in his duffle. You were irritated now, but you still wouldn’t question him. Instead you stood up and motioned to your bag. “I’ve got sweats and a shirt. Get dressed.” calum nodded, but didn’t reach for the bag. Instead he hugged your waist. “I missed you.” he mumbled into your shirt. You sighed deeply, but stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. You let him go and turned to walk to the door. “Don’t make me leave without you.”

anonymous asked:

I know it's been done a million times, but can you write a one shot where Caskett needs to share a bed and things happen.... pre always ya know

A/N: Like you said, this has been done quite a bit, and I’m assuming you may have wanted it in season 4, but I really love season 2 Castle & Beckett, so I hope you don’t mind this:

(Set late season two)

“I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

Castle ignores her, attempting to arrange the tiny coverlet on the carpet. He still can’t believe that there was only one room left in this stupid hotel and of course it’s a single bed suite. If you could even call this place a suite…


“It’s fine, Beckett,” he snaps, shooting her an apologetic glance as she watches him from the bathroom doorway. “I don’t mind.”

He doesn’t mind, really. He would much rather have a sore back from sleeping on a hard floor than make her uncomfortable. 

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor,” she reiterates, striding forward and snatching the small excuse for a blanket from his hands. “We’re two grown adults, so we’re both going to act like it and innocently share a bed together.”

“You really think your boyfriend would approve of that?” he questions, standing up and pacing away from her.

“That’s what this is about? Are you kidding me?’

He doesn’t answer her, propping his shoulder against the window and staring out at the turquoise glow of the pool in the darkness outside. The bathroom door slams and he frowns once he hears the shower turn on. 

He isn’t being fair, he knows that. Demming had asked him if he had any sort of claim to Kate, he had been a gentleman about it and everything, and Castle had tried to be a gentleman too, but he hadn’t expected Kate to actually accept Demming’s advances. He hadn’t expected the robbery detective to keep coming around the homicide floor, offering Kate the occasional coffee and dopey smile that she would return. That was his job. And if he had known this would be the result of bowing out and allowing another man a clear path to court Beckett, he wouldn’t have been a gentleman at all.

Because he’s had a growing crush on Kate Beckett for over a year and he never intended to lose his chance like this.

Keep reading

Mashton at dinner (Part 2)

A lot of people requested this, so it happened.  If anyone who requested this doesn’t like it, literaly let me know. But major mashton feels. okay.  



The walk to the restaurant to the car, though short, left a tacky sheen of sweat across your skin. Ashton trailed behind, watching as Michael’s hand slowly moved from your waist to your ass by the time you all had reached the car. Michael turned and pressed his hips against yours, your back firm against the side of the car.

You heard Ashton fumbling with the keys before unlocking the driver’s seat door. Michael leaned down and kissed you, his hands resting on either side of your head, pinning you there. You pouted when he pulled his head back before giving you a loving peck.

His eyes flicked over your face as he asked, “Love, are you sure you want to do this?“: You raised your eyebrows, meeting his eyes for as long as possible before looking over your shoulder to see Ashton in the driver’s seat. He flashed his dimples and you heard a muffled giggle through the glass of the window.

"Michael, I’m absolutely positive. ” You smiled up at him, and then considered his position. Would he want to share his girlfriend? Your face shifted into a slight frown. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

He laughed and brushed his lips over yours briefly before pulling back and opening the car door to the back door. “Go head in, sweetheart.”

“We good?” Ashton asked as he started the car, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror. You smiled back. “More than good.”

The drive was short, made shorter by Ashton’s slight speeding. Michael’s lips had found your neck, deciding to settle in one spot unless he was satisfied with the mark. He continued this along different spots, his hands running over your sides and thighs. Two blocks from your house, one of his hands reached your panties, gently running his fingers over you again. You let out a low whimper, noticing that Ashton sat straighter in his seat to watch. By the time you reached the next stoplight, you were grinding your hips against his hand to create more friction.

As you pulled into the driveway, Michael gently tapped the outside of your thigh. “Up.” You shifted your bum up from the seat, Michael’s fingers reaching either side of your ruined panties, snapping the elastic against your hips once before pulling them down your legs.

He flung them up to Ashton and got out of the car, going to unlock the door. Ashton helped you out of the car, giggling as he tucked your panties into his back pocket, making sure to let part of them stick out for your neighbors to see.

You were no sooner in the door when it was closed behind you and you were once again pinned. Ashton’s lips met one of Mikaels earlier marks, licking it softly. His hands made his way to your boobs, cupping them gently before squeezing them. They continued down your sides, tugging your shirt out from the skirt and helping you pull it over your head. His hands went back to you boobs, his thumb tracing your nipple through the cup. You let out a small noise, wanting more as you tried to grind your hips on his.

Michael cleared his throat, attracting both of your attention. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go back to our room and get ready. I just want to talk to Ashton for a bit.” You pecked Ashton’s cheek and went back to the bedroom.

The door made a small creek as it opened, and you removed your skirt, panties and bra. You ran a hand through your hair and sat up straighter on the bed as you heard them walk down the hall.

“…MINE. okay?” Michael stated, his voice muffled slightly as they entered the room.  Michael smirked when he saw you, legs crossed and back straight, hair shiny and tousled, while Ashton licked his lips.

“Are you absolutely positive you’re okay with this?” Ashton asked, glancing between you and Michael. You just rolled your eyes and patted the bed on either side of you. “Get over here!”

You pulled Michael towards you as soon as he was close, lips meeting. You kissed him forcefully, and felt Ashton settle on the bed next to you.  One of your hands slid under Michael’s shirt, alternately dragging your nails and rubbing.  The other went over to Ashton, resting on his abs.  Michael nipped at your lip and you clutched Ashton’s shirt tighter.  Michael moved his lips down to your chest, teasing a nipple with his teeth.  

“Jesus, Michael.”  Ashton’s hands were on your thighs, absently rubbing them while he watched.  You tugged Ashton’s shirt again, “Off.”  You watched as he pulled it off, your eyes falling on his abs.  Michael swiped his tongue over your nipple and blew, his fingers lightly rolling the other, causing you to suck in a breath. You reached a bit lower on Ashton, you hand cupping his bulge.  "These too.“ You told him.  He stood up and began to undress, but your attention turned to Michael.  

His mouth alternated between your boobs while his fingers began to trail lower over your stomach.  He traced little shapes as your fingers held him to you when his lips found an exceptionally pleasurable spot.  His hand slipped lower and lower until they hit your center.  He pulled his lips off of you with a smirk.  "You’re so wet, love.  Does this turn you on, being with two guys?” He asked.  You just nodded, looking over to Ashton. He stood in only his boxers, looking slightly unsure, though there was no reason he ever should with a bulge like that.

“Just take it all off, Ash. Please.” you told him. “You too, Mikey.” Your eyes never left his body, his boxers slowly sliding down his thighs until his erection hit his stomach.  He was longer than Michael, not as thick, and almost as delicious.  

You scooted over and laid on your stomach near Ashton.  You kissed his thigh before sliding one of your hands over his length.  He hissed, his eyes trained on you, but occasionally glancing down.  "How does that feel?“ You asked with a lazy smile on your face.  Michael settled beside you, one of his hands rubbing gently over your bum.  Occasionally, Michael’s hand would slip between your thighs, rubbing there for a moment before moving back up over your bum.  You continued rhythmically pumping Ashton, telling him how nice and soft and hard he felt in your hand.  He let out little curses and mumbles of your name from his lips, shining from how many times his tongue had swiped over them.  You pulled your hand to the tip, paying it extra attention before continuing your ministrations.  

"She really llikes that, Ash.  You should feel how wet she’s getting.” Michael said, one of his fingers entering you and pulling out too quickly for your liking.  "She just gets so hot knowing that she makes someone else feel good.“  You looked at him with a bit of pride before moving close to Ashton so that you head was nearly in his lap.  You flicked your toungue over his tip once, then looked up to his face.  His hazel eyes stared back with fire, "I wanna make you feel good too, love." 

"Michael, c’mere.” You gestured towards the bed. He rested on his back as you continued to stroke Ashton. You kissed his shoulder before turning completely to Michael.  

You took his length in your hand, pumping him twice before leaning down to lick along the underside. You pressed a kiss to the tip before licking your way back down and up again.  Michael moaned, looping your hair in his fingers as Ashton’s hand slid over your ass and to your heat.  You arched your back, whimpering as you felt him stroke your clit once before running his fingers along either side of your center.  You pulled your lips from Michael.  

“Please, Ashton.” You begged before he allowed you two fingers.  You moaned as his long fingers hit different spots deep inside of you.  "I told you I’d wanted to make you feel good, love.“ He said, starting to fuck you harder with them.  You returned your mouth to Michael, taking him as deep as you could before pulling back and starting to bob your head.  Your pleasure-laced moans on Michael’s cock nearly brought him over the edge.  

"Wait-” Michael said, gently pushing your head back,  His hands rustled through his sweaty fringe before he pushed himself up and off the bed.  .  "Get up on your hands and knees, babe.“  You watched Michael stood up and got a condom from a nearby drawer.  Ashton pulled his hand back from you, licking your wetness from one, and offering you the other.  You wrapped your tongue around his finger, making sure he saw you lick off every last drop.

Micahel put on the condom, as Ashton shifted to kneel in front of you.   You smirked slightly. "There something you want, Ashton?”  He giggled and gestured cockily to his length.  You flicked your tongue over his head, before tilting to lick along either side of the base.  You let him enter your mouth, bobbing your head shallowly while his hands snared in your hair and profanities flew from his lips.  

You felt Michael’s hands on your hips, his cock rubbing along your lower lips.  "Ready, babe?“ He asked.  You pulled your lips off Ashton just far enough to nod,before Michael slipped himself into you.  Ashton re-entered your mouth, and after a few moments, the three of you found a rhythm.  The slap of skin and moans and pleasure filled the room.  

You felt your climax building and your walls tightening.  Michael’s hand snaked around your hip, rubbing your clit as you thrust your hips back to meet his.  You moaned, reaching your climax, and triggering Ashton’s

"Fucking hell.” Ashton mumbled, his face contorting as he came in your mouth. He pulled out of you, and Michael pounded harder into you, near his own climax while you fisted the sheet.  "Fuck.“ he moaned out, gripping your hips and pulling you closer as he released into the condom.  

You lay on the bed, completely spent.  The last thing you remember before drifting to sleep was a set of soft lips brushing your cheek, mumbling out a thank you.  

Helpless: Modern AU CS (6/-)

Summary: Killian Jones is a single dad, working for a better life for himself and his son Liam. He does not feel like he needs a woman in his life. Until one night he ends up in ER with his son and meets a gorgeous pediatrician, who may flip his world around.

AN: For Lenfaz. As always a big thank you for captain-k-jones and o-u-a-timer for looking over this.

Part 1(, AO3)/ Part 2(, AO3)/ Part 3(, AO3)/ Part 4(, AO3 )/ Part 5(, AO3 )

Read on:, AO3

Part 6

Girlfriend? I don’t have a girlfriend. His words echoed in her mind. She felt blood rushing to her cheeks.

“But I thought Ms. Lucas…” She tried to comprehend his statement. There was no chance that she was wrong once again. Right?

“Ruby?” Eyes wide open, he looked at her a little befuddled. “Ruby is just a friend! Why would you think otherwise?”

“You said Liam didn’t have a mother.” She looked at the boy in his arms. The kid looked at her through his dark eyelashes, still holding his arms around his father’s neck tightly. His gaze was still a little wary, but curious rather than scared. “And Ms. Lucas came here so late…” She wringed her fingers, which was not an easy thing, while holding a clipboard. “I just thought…maybe..” She was digging herself deeper and deeper.

Readjusting his hold on his son, Killian smiled at her, his eyes soft and a little teasing.

“I am a widower, Dr. Swan.”

“Emma.” She automatically corrected him.

“Emma.” The way he spoke her name with an emphasis on “ma, a dashing smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes, made her heart beat faster. His richly accented voice did not help matters either. Butterflies filled her stomach, and she briefly wondered what possessed her to skip formalities between them. She had no intention to ever do that. Trying to hide her embarrassment, she looked at her own feet.

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like a prayer in the dark (i thought i saw you)

chapter 5

Story Summary: Since her mother’s death four years ago, Clarke has belonged to the convent of St. Mortain, the god of death, one of the Old Nine gods of medieval Brittany. She has trained to become an assassin, a handmaiden of Mortain, carrying out His will and His justice, and has become one of the best. When she finally gets sent out into the field, on a long-term cover mission at the Duchess’s court, however, everything she thinks she knows about the convent, about Mortain, about justice and mercy, and most of all about herself and her own heart, comes into question. As she teams up with Bellamy Blake–a close confidant of the Duchess and a frustrating, intriguing puzzle of a man–Clarke slowly learns who she is and who she needs to be to survive are two very different things. {Based on Grave Mercy by Robin LaFevers}

Chapter Summary: For her mission to succeed, Clarke knows she needs to gain Bellamy’s trust, even as he fights her at every turn. Still, she never expected it to go both ways, yet she finds herself confiding in him, at first by accident, and then because she just might want to.
chapter: 5/13  |  wc: ~6k  |  warnings: violence
Previous: prologue | chp 2 | chp 3 | chp 4 || fanmix soundtrack

After gripping the stone ledge tighter, Clarke dared to edge another few inches out of the tower. As she strained to hear the conversation echoing out the window of the next room over, she glanced down at the courtyard below. If anyone saw her, it should look like she was simply basking in the sunlight and fresh air. She was too high up for anyone to notice the frustration etched into the lines of her face as she eavesdropped on Bellamy and his guest.

The night of the ball had seemed like one small step forward with him, but within the week since then, he had already taken some large ones back. Yet again Bellamy had left her behind for the day, and his little habit of excluding her from everything important was grating on her. She was angry enough that he had questioned their attacker without consulting her, then eliminated him without letting her have a shot. Today, he had conveniently forgotten to mention he was meeting with a contact of Wick’s, who had approached him early this morning in the stables. Clarke had observed the exchange from around the corner, after accidentally stumbling upon them while checking to see if her trunk had arrived. When he had seen her later at breakfast, he hadn’t said a word, and so Clarke had determined to follow him when he left to meet his contact. The convent was counting on her. She needed something to report, and soon, which was why she was leaning out the window and listening in on their conversation now, hoping for at least a little bit of helpful intel to pass along.

“And why should I bother to meet with your liege lord, not knowing his identity or the terms of his marriage proposal?” Bellamy asked, his voice cold and calculating.

Even in his worst moments with her, he had never sounded so detached. The deadness in his tone made her skin crawl, because he seemed like a different person, an empty soul wearing the same face she knew so well by now. Though the thought didn’t sit comfortably with her, she supposed he might have to become someone else, in order to survive the vipers that lurked within the castle walls, and beyond too.

“My lord is keenly aware of the political fiasco that is arranging the Duchess’s marriage at the moment,” the guest stated, sounding calm despite the venom Bellamy was throwing at him. 

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