where whatever someone writes on their skin appears on their soulmate’s skin on the same spot and disappears only when the first person washes it off from @ineharnia
The idea of soulmates wasn’t exactly a foreign concept to Tom, but this whole skin text messaging thing was. He’d just heard it from his classmate, Ed, who seemed adamant about it being the truth.
“Gimme a pen.” he asked afterwards, deciding it wouldn’t really hurt him to try. Ed passed him a pen and hovered over him, watching intently as Tom tried to think of something to say.
It should be something casual, but not too casual. Tom reasoned, feeling slightly ticklish as the pen’s tip dragged across his skin. Or something meaningful, first impressions are always nice.I’m sure my soulmate would appreciate that.
Unfortunately for his soulmate, Tom was still a proudly immature teenager, so he drew a dick on his forearm.
can i get an isaac imagine where he cheats on you and you two fight and he wont apologize for what he did. and then a mission comes up & it ends where you die in his arms? just really angsty please. maybe base it off of “too little, too late” by jojo?
warnings: lots of angst, breakdown, death
author’s note: this request is from my old blog, but i had the idea in google docs, so here it is! enjoy xo (not my gif)
Parrish loves working with Sheriff Stilinski. He’s an amazing mentor, a great man, and Parrish trusts him with his life (and has tested that trust on more than one occasion). But there are still some things he knows he shouldn’t share.
Like the fact that the Sheriff’s teenage son is currently developing strong feelings for the brooding, “wanted for murder on multiple occasions” werewolf six years his senior. Like the fact that they’re going to get together officially within the next six months, are going to get married (“mated, Stiles”) four years after that, and have a son (biologically Stiles’) who will want nothing more than to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps in the police department.
…Like the fact that time travel is absolutely real, and Parrish Stilinski-Hale might have made use of it for the opportunity to learn from his grandfather in the days before the heart attack claimed him.
There are some things the Sheriff really doesn’t need to know.
request: smut imagine where the reader is like lydia in season 1 (bratty and arrogant) and is THE popular girl and stuart transfers to stileWs’ school and she takes an interest in him but only teases him a bit and he always watches her but thinks she’s a bitch so he takes her somewhere and eats her out
can i have the reader humping stuarts leg pls
A/N: I originally added another request but that would’ve been too long so here’s the short cut version. Requests are open again, by the way. Also it’s late so this isn’t edited.
Warning(s): Language, smut (I’m not even sorry)
I hummed in boredom as Maya kept ranting on about her boyfriend that apparently had cheated on her with her own sister, picking on my nails in the process. She proceeded to describe the way she had seen them being intimate - I didn’t really listen, so at least I didn’t have to ask the awkward question why she had watched her boyfriend having sex with her sister. A somewhat familiar and deep voice was complaining about Beacon Hills High’s beloved chemistry teacher, loud enough to direct my attention from my nails to him.
My eyes considerably widened at the sight of the hotshot that rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone while that Stilinski guy ranted about something. I lowkey remembered Lydia talking about him a few days ago, but the reason had slipped my mind, he was at the bottom of the food chain after all, as I liked to call it. That was just how High School worked, you had the popular people, people that were okay and had their fair amount of friends, stoners, the nerds and geeks, and whatever came after that. The funny thing was, I couldn’t match the boy with the glasses to any of those groups, meaning he was obviously new. I titled my head and scanned over his figure. He was stunning with the dark hair and from what I could see, gorgeous eyes.
A blue beanie covered up most of his chocolate brown hair but the disheveled part that was visible made me want to run my fingers through it… Preferably while he pounded me into oblivion. A few moles were scattered across his face, not as prominent as the ones of the other Stilinski boy though. I’d gladly find a few more of those on his body…
The strange boy slammed his locker shut, causing me to let my gaze wander to his hands and let me tell you, damn. His hands were big with fingers so long that it verged on the norm. Veins trailed prominently up from the back of his palms, resulting into surprisingly muscular forearms for his slender form. It was almost impossible not to imagine what those long, slender fingers could do to me.
“Maya, who is that?”, I interrupted her whining and pointed a finger at the tall boy. The blonde narrowed her eyes in confusion as she eyed the brown-haired boy as well.
“I don’t know… Why?”
I shrugged half-heartedly and continued to pick on my nails while I recommended her to finally dump that piece of shit she called her boyfriend. Admittedly, the boy didn’t look like he was used to popularity, or attention in general but I would certainly change that.
“I wanna sit on his face.”, I huffed as I watched Stuart Stilinski licking his lips as he stared on something on the screen of his phone. My head was resting in the palms of my hands and the sexual frustration I felt had grown dramatically over the last few days. Stiles was ranting about something but the older boy ignored him, as usual. Allison giggled at my blunt confession but I didn’t really notice it. He finally settled his attention to the tray of food in front of him and began to devour a hamburger. Never in my life had I thought there would be a moment where I’d want to swap places with a burger but here it was.
“Other people would start with ‘He’s cute.’”, Allison teased and stuck her tongue out in amusement. I rolled my eyes with a smile and picked up some of the salad on her plate with my fork.
“Alright. He’s cute and I wanna sit on his face.”
“99 % of the people on this school would disagree.”, I shot back in a sing-sung voice.
“What about the other 1 %?”
“I don’t care about those 1 %.”, I said and rested my head in the palms of my hand again. The phone-obsessed boy didn’t even notice that I was staring at him, his brother on the contrary did and it baffled him. I couldn’t judge him for that, it was rare for me to look at people that weren’t teachers, my friends or people I was putting in their place right now. He nudged his brother that barely budged. I sighed and threw my hair over my shoulder. If he wouldn’t wilingly pay attention, I’d have to make sure he does.
“What’s so hot about him anyway? He is cute but I haven’t ever seen you obsess over a guy that hard since… Wait, you never have. Usually you just walk up to them and make out with them.”
“What can I say? I like to get what I want. And I want a piece of this.”, I groaned and watched Stuart licking a bit of ketchup off his hand. Allison was right, though. When I wanted a boy, I got him. Where was the difference here?
“Let’s just go to English before you start drooling.”
“Honestly, you think you know I have a dirty mind but wow-”
“Nope.”, Allison said and pulled me with her through the big hall. Even though it was unnecessary to mention, she was the only person that dared to talk to me like this and I wouldn’t want it any other way. At least that was what I thought at the time. However, my mind drifted off to the party this weekend. What could be a better opportunity to fuck without coming off as too cheap? It was the next and probably best chance to confront Stuart about my… needs.
We had to stop at Allison’s locker meaning most students were already in their seats as we entered the classroom. There were no two free seats next to each other so I slammed my books down on Ashley’s desk and motioned for her to leave. I was not going to to sit through an hour of boredom without at least one bearable person at my side.
“I was here first!”, she exclaimed and crossed her arms. I rolled my eyes before a smirk covered my face.
“Was that what your sister said as she saw you fucking her boyfriend?”, I asked sweetly and contorted my face in fake pity. “You must have it so hard!”
Ashley blushed furiously and ducked her head in shame as she scrambled off her seat and into one in the back of the classroom. Good for her. Allison shook her head at me as I shrugged innocently in my newly claimed seat. I prepared myself for the period and had some small talk with my friend but I could see someone look at me out of the corner of my eye. After a few minutes of enduring this surprisingly strange feeling I turned to see the person I’d have to blame. I was used to people staring at me but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t tell a freak off.
It took me by surprise that said freak was Stuart Stilinski. He wore an unreadable expression and his eyes never left mine. I swallowed almost nervously, I wasn’t used to get glances that intense. I wasn’t sure what he thought but I wouldn’t let my appearance crumble just because I lowkey wanted him to ravage me in the Coach’s office.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer.”, I smirked with a wink before I directed my attention toward the teacher that just entered the room.
I strutted through the cafeteria and dropped my tablet on the next best table, my usual group of people right behind me. I was so caught up in a conversation with Allison about a new bikini collection that I completely missed to check on who was sitting next to us.
“Please, have a seat.”, a sarcastic voice spoke up as the others started to claim the rest of the seats as well. I looked up at Stuart that glared down at me with raised eyebrows.
“You’re welcome for lighting up your day with my presence, hot stuff.”, I said sincerely with a hand on his forearm. He opened his mouth to say something but apparently he really didn’t know how to properly respond to that. I smiled widely at his silence before I retracted my hand off his arm and threw my hair over my shoulder. We slipped back into conversation for a while but were interruped by Stuart’s snort to Maya’s question.
“You want to say something?”, I asked rather puzzled and narrowed my eyes at him. He rolled his eyes as he looked at me.
“Yeah. He does not like her. If you like a girl, you don’t sleep with her sister. Kind of a basic rule.”, he informed us all with a shit-eating grin. No one said anything before Maya left the table crying, another girl right on her feet. I sighed and put a hand on Stuart’s thigh. He flinched heavily, causing Stiles, Allison and Scott to look at us. He shrugged it off as I leaned closer to him.
“You should really develop some social skills, honey.”, I whispered and enjoyed the way he shivered. The thing I didn’t expect him to do was to trail a hand up my thigh, even more longing than I did. I almost choked on my own saliva but covered it up with a semi-elegant cough. It was my turn to shiver when his lips brushed against my ear.
“And you should really learn to watch that mouth of yours.”, he warned and squeezed my thigh before letting it go. It took me more than just a second to get myself together. The heat in my body was almost unbearable at the thought of Stuart Stilinski actually touching me, whispering in my ear with such a husky voice that you could think he barely used it. But I wasn’t that easy to impress. Y/N Y/L/N wasn’t one to give up that quickly. My hand still stroked over the fabric of his pants and reached his covered manhood. He gasped sharply and after a split second his hand was on mine, the eye contact was deep and somewhat dangerous. I noticed that he wasn’t trying to get my hand away, he just stared down at me sternly. The tension was obvious.
“Maybe I need some help with that.”, I challenged and bit my lip. His eyes were glued to them and if it wasn’t for the ring of the bell, I wouldn’t have been able to tell how far this would’ve gone. The worst thing was that I didn’t even care.
“Alright, that’s it.”, Stuart growled and grabbed my wrist before he pulled me with him.
“Hey! Unless this doesn’t end in a bedroom you better let the fuck go.”, I complained and struggled to follow his long strides. Admittedly calling Greenberg an irrelevant ass wasn’t very nice but it happend in the heat off the moment. I gasped when we came to a sudden halt and he shoved me against the lockers almost brutally. Instead of pain, pleasure flooded my systems as I felt a pleasant pull in my lower regions. That boy knew how to play me. Stuart was suddenly so close that our bodies were touching, I was sure he could hear my heartbeat going crazy.
“I told you to watch your mouth.”, he mumbled against my lips. Instead of responding with something sassy, I felt the weird urge to apologize. I wouldn’t do that of course. My eyes fluttered shut as one of his hands started to caress my side, his eyes never leaving my face. I wasn’t a saint, I had gone a lot furhter with boys but his hand on my fucking waist was enough to drive me crazy. We were both breathing heavily before his lips fell down on mine and jesus, it was better than anything I had felt before.
The kiss was greedy, full of tongue and even teeth clattering together in order to get rid off at least some of the tension but the more time we spent around each other, the worse it seemed to get. My hands were either tangled in his hair or tightly wrapped around his neck. I rested my head against the locker behind me after I pulled back to breathe. Stuart apparently saw this as an invitation to devour my neck and seconds later I was arching into his touch while he obviously marked my throat. As he reached my sensitive spot, the filthiest moan anyone had probably made escaped me. He sucked on it, making me whimper beneath him. If I hadn’t been sure before, I was now; Stuart Stilinski would be the absolute death of me.
As he finally pulled back at some point, I had not only gained a whole necklace of hickies, I was also dripping and the sight of an aroused Stuart didn’t really help. His breath was heavy on my face as we stared at each other wordlessly.
“I told you you’d be in trouble with that attitude. You’ve got to learn to let others take control every once in a while.”, he rasped with his hands on either side of my head. I tried to lurge forward maybe catch him by surprise but he was quick to stop me with moving one of his legs inbetween mine. I gasped at how good it felt. Once Stuart realised how strongly I reacted to this gesture alone, he smirked and pressed his thigh harder up against my heat. I whimpered and began to roll my hips against his leg, not caring that I probably looked like a bitch in heat.
“Oh, god. Please don’t stop.”, I practically begged and blushed at the desperation in my voice. I was used to be in control, I was the one to tease and edge. Yet here I was humping a guy’s leg needily on the verge of an orgasm. Suddenly he pulled me a little forward, so I was almost sitting on his thigh. We were so lucky that no one walked past us then… Suddenly the pull in my stomach intensified until it exploded and sent heat through my whole body. I kept my moving against him as my orgasm washed over me, face covered in his chest and arms still tightly around his neck. He helped me ride out my orgasm while I moaned and cried out in pleasure
“Are you okay?”, he asked and carefully removed his leg. I nod tiredly and he gave me a little smile before he kissed my forhead.
“I’m not done with you, though.”, he smirked and took hold of my hand to make me follow him, a lot more gentle now as I noticed. I realised that he was guiding me into the Coach’s office, something that sent shivers down my spine at the naughty things I had imagined to do with Stuart in here. He closed the door and pressed me against it, capturing me in another passionate kiss. I hummed in approval as his hands travelled south and found my breasts, massaging them momentarily before they continued their journey further down and under my skirt. I could feel them sliding up my thighs and moaned in anticipation. Stuart’s breaths quickened and he breaks away with wide eyes before he smirks.
“You’re one naughty girl.”, he chuckled at the realization I wasn’t wearing panties under my high-waisted skirt. Two of his abnormal long fingers swiped over my entrance. “Fuck, is all that for me?”
I bit my lip and nodded silently, arching my back when he repeated the action before taking the fingers in his mouth. I watched with wide eyes as he slurped up all of the wetness in pleasure.
“Shit, I need more.”, he groaned. Suddenly I was sat on the Coach’s desk and shared another desperate kiss with Stuart before he took off his glasses and pushed me back a little, grabbing my ankles and positioning them on his shoulders. He places a few kisses on my thighs, lickinng the upper parts since I had already begun to leak out. He growled at the taste and bit down on my thigh lightly, making me cry out his name. I wiggle a little as he stops moving.
“Stuart, please!”, I whined as his hot breath over my sex was making me lose my mind. First, it’s a chaste kiss on my clit, making me whimper, followed by a few kitten licks that made me thrash around and curse that magic tongue of his. That was until he lost all kind of self control and buried his face in my cunt. I screamed out loud as he sucked firmly on my clit, nibbling a bit before licking up all the wetness. I fist his gorgeous hair in my hands while he pulled me tighter against his face, too greedy to even pay attention to my reactions. I had already reached another peak as he shoved his tongue into my pussy with a force that made me cry out once more.
The heat in my stomach spreads further again and I exploded into another fit of screams and whimpers as my third orgasm of the day rushed through me like a drug. I bucked my hips against his face as he licked up the mess I had made, but he didn’t stop after that. Never before was the term ‘eating out’ as clear to me as now. Stuart latched onto me like I was his last and best meal. Eventually it was too much, I was too sensitive and Stuart’s tongue was still stimulating me strongly. I had to beg desperately for him to stop until he finally got up and licked his lips, placing the glasses back on his nose.
“Now - What did I tell you?”
“T-to watch my mouth.”
“Good girl.”, he smirked before his lips were pressed onto mine again, rewarding me for my weak reply.
86: “Perhaps you’ll take me out one day — or do I have to make an appointment?” (I combined this with a prompt from foxpaws10 from ages ago based on this post, and I kind of warped both of your prompts i hope this is still okaaay basically it’s doctor andrew and that’s all u need to know)
His morning is a string of disasters that begins with covering the ER in the Sunday rush of hypochondriac elderly and fussy children. It’s one long stretch of kicked over paint buckets, a mess you can’t ignore, splattering the walls and getting on his shoes.
Andrew chose surgery almost entirely for the distance of it, the sterility of a room with a slab of meat, a tray of knives, and a sickness he can actually cut out.
He’s a doctor because he can be, and patients sometimes like that he doesn’t speak a word to them, like silence equals genius.
He likes that there are some patients that come into the ER unconscious and leave the OR unconscious, and all he has is a problem and a ticking clock. He always solves the problem. He thinks maybe it’s because he is one.
The sinking ship of his Sunday in the emergency room goes from slippery to debilitating with one patient.
Two showy ER doctors with their lab coats off and their sleeves rolled up go into the private room they’ve cordoned off, and they both come out looking pinched in the face with their stethoscopes clenched in their fists.
“He’s a fucking disaster,” one of them says, leaning up against the information desk with his eyes still pulling back to the closed door of the room.
“I know. I thought, I dunno. That the news was exaggerating.”
Andrew tilts his head and listens without making any move to leave his post, filling out inane charts as illegibly as he can.
One of the residents chances a look at him and Andrew makes a point of catching him. The guy startles, then juts his chin.
“Maybe you’ll get along with him, Minyard. He’s as crazy as you.”
“You’ve mistaken the hospital for a playground,” Andrew says mildly. “Give me his chart.”
He looks at his friend, mouth slack, and then the one holding the chart holds it out like a dirty rag.
“He’s Boston’s starting striker,” he stage whispers. Andrew takes the clipboard and ignores him, scanning the details. “We’re not supposed to let any patients know.”
“That Neil Josten is causing a scene ten feet away from them?” he says, and the men titter uncomfortably. “Why should he get the luxury of privacy?”
“How did you—“
“The news is available to everyone, Bryant, you fuck.” He rounds the desk and makes for the closed and shuttered room, dropping the chart in the receptacle outside.
“He shouldn’t be allowed to practice,” someone says behind him, and then someone else, softer, scornful: “surgeons”.
Andrew wrings the door knob and finds himself abruptly face to face with the singular most swollen person he’s ever seen. He’s obviously bolting for it, his gown gaping at the neck and someone’s stolen shoes jammed on. Andrew scans the defiant face, the shock of red hair, the near invisible trail of blood from an incorrectly removed IV.
Andrew watches Neil Josten— and it is him, one of the handful of strikers on Boston’s team and certainly the most newsworthy — size him up. His eyes run the same circuit Andrew’s would if he were looking to fight his way out: door, threat, surreptitiously behind him for a weapon, back again.
“I’ll drug you,” Andrew says simply. Neil’s good eye, the one that isn’t purpling, goes narrow.