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with dreams came rain, part one. thomas x green-eyed reader

summary 📣: in which thomas has a dream about a pretty girl with pretty green eyes from his past

warning/s 🚫: “angst”

slater’s note 🗯: au but also still follows the storyline of the scorch trials (part two?)

sleep was hard to come by now a days.

the heat of the scorch sent thomas over on edge as he would have barely have time to sleep before being woken from deep sweats of stress and bad dreams that were always the same and always reoccurring but always so short.

he’d lie awake at night with his hands folded over his chest while his eyes studied the surface of the sky. dark and blue with tiny little lights that were just barely visible through the usual clouds full of thunder and lightening but never really rain.

he’d think and he’d hope for sleep and for peace to come to his mind at last but he knew it’d never come.

when sleep did come, he’d wish for the dream.

the dream with the pretty girl around his age with memorizing pretty green eyes filled with youth and spark. he could see the soul in them, full of harmonious joy that gave him life, that fueled him with happiness.

it was always the same. begun the same, ended the same, never with a hello nor with a goodbye.

and that angered him. he was always set mad with the lack of time he had. he wanted more. he wanted to say goodbye.

“look at the sky, thomas, look how pretty.”

everytime he saw you, it always rained.

literally rained. water fell from the sky, drenching the dry, hot sand. blinding any live eyes of the scorch.

“looks so soft and...”

“...calming.”

he held you closely and tightly with his arm wrapped around your back while the other held your arm, making sure you were stable up close on top of him.

“you make me feel calm... you make me happy, thomas,” you rolled over so your chest was fully pressed against his, hearts connecting, hands lacing together like puzzle pieces.

he felt like he couldn’t breathe. everything you were doing he wanted to last forever and yet he hadn’t had the slightest clue who you were despite everything feeling familiar.

like this was done before, you were real and not a figment of his imagination. every repetitive touch you shared together, every kiss, every word, every noise... it seemed all real and all just a distant memory that his subconscious was pulling up for a sense of relief.

“i feel stuck in my head when i’m not with you,” you whispered, lips moving closer to his, every inch closer to desire and praise and relief.

relief from the built up tension in his stomach. relief from the scorch. relief from WICKED, being hunted, seeing his friends dying, starting life over and over again. it was all relief once your lips touched his.

“please, never leave me.”

he should’ve known it was a dream by how good he felt and by the words that fell from his mouth so effortlessly and mindlessly and by how he didn’t worry about anything.

his stomach felt like as if there were a million tiny bunches of bubbles swarming and consuming every bit of him as he took in every bit of you.

“i wouldn’t dream of it.”

it always ended there. the fantasy world of soft colors and warm weather began to melt away and disappear, slipping from his finger tips no matter how hard he tried to grasp it, hold on tightly, but that only made it fall away faster.

and then it rained.

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missing piece, part one. thomas x reader

summary 📰: in which reader is ex-wicked worker with all her memory still intact and once she feels she’s finally gotten away from all that, it comes and pulls her right back in

warning/s 📬: swearing, NOT EDITED UGH

slater’s note 📮: this was originally an original fic on my wattpad but that was years ago but i wanted to bring it back so hi

“where’s y/n?”

“who’s y/n?”

“his girlfriend.”

“she’s not my girlfriend.”

the newfound safe haven had brought a lot of different anxieties, and the last thing thomas wanted was to be separated from his friends, especially you.

five minutes into sitting at a lunch table with new people and familiar faces of the glade, you were really the only thing on his mind as he searched the other tables looking for your face, listening for your laugh, but he found nothing.

“i didn’t see her get tested.”

“nor did i.”

“maybe she’s with teresa,” minho offered, “i saw her walking through the glass hall with a bunch of doctors. they could be running some extra tests... you know, girl stuff?”

“girl stuff?” frypan’s face screwed up as he looked between minho and winston, his mind not exactly processing what that was supposed to mean.

“i don’t know man, i’m sure she’s fine,” minho shrugged, trying to pry away from the awkwardness that took over as fast as he could.

“well, we can look for her later,” newt gave thomas a comforting look, his hand gripping his shoulder as a reassuring gesture, “right now, you need to relax, you’ve had a long day.”

°•

the cold fluorescent lights gave you a piercing headache as you sat in a practically empty medical hall with a needle up your arm and a comforting hand gripping your shoulder.

you couldn’t actually tell whether or not if it was comforting or rather just forceful so you would stay in place against the cold metal chair.

something about the place was rather odd, cold, and slightly uncomfortable. it wasn’t as scrappy as it should’ve been, it was well put together, well built, well secured, it didn’t make sense.

it resembled WICKED headquarters all too much, especially with how many doctors swarmed around you, gripping, pinching, breaking against your skin, desperate for whatever you had.

“alright, y/n, we’re done with you,” the lady removed the needle before placing a plain colored bandaid over the breakage of skin, small amounts of blood beginning to spill out.

you gave her the best small smile you could give her, placing your hand in your lap, trying to fight to the urge to question every single thing that was going on.

“janson wants to see you, and then you can go.”

you nodded, rubbing your hands together before pausing, eyes slowly raising up before saying ‘what?’ and just as fast you heard his voice.

“miss y/l/n, what a pleasure it is to see you again.”

you got out of the cold chair as fast as possible, almost tripping in the process. you felt your heart pick up as you begun backing away, not knowing where to go or what to do.

“why don’t we have a chat?”

you felt multiple hands grips both your arms as you continued to walk away while still facing him. you know this couldn’t end well.

°•

“you were always such a smart girl, even when you were younger. never so sure about anything unless you did it yourself. you had to know everything if you hadn’t known it already.”

it had taken a lot to hold you down before moving you into one of the interview rooms, handcuffing you to the chair.

“when ava heard we were picking up your section of maze, she was absolutely pleased,” janson paced back and forth before you, a stupid smirk slapped on his face, “more than pleased really. she’s hoping the past three years will have been more than enough punishment to have learned your lesson.”

“i’m not a fucking school girl, janson,” you scoffed, struggling against the metal practically digging into your skin, “what your doing is wrong and those three years only made me realize it even more.”

“oh really?”

“i’m finally past all this, why do you need me?”

janson scoffed, shaking his head before leaning over the table that separated the two of you. he was trying to get a ride out of you, you could just tell by the playfulness that surfaced in the center of his eye, “you think you can just take back all that you did? you were after all the one who created the maze.”

“yes but it wasn’t meant for the torture of young kids, janson. do you have any idea what it’s like in there? what you did?”

“i think it’s more or so what you did.”

“suck my dick,” you tried to get up but the handcuffs were preventing much movement, “i didn’t do anything but create a fucking maze. it was you and the rest of the fools that work for WICKED that twisted it into a death con.”

it’s silent and janson have you look as if asking if you really believed that. you wanted to punch him right in the mouth, make him realize that you weren’t one to fuck with at the moment.

“it seems you care a lot about these people, especially with how much lying you’ve done to protect them...” he sat in the chair across from you, folding his hands as if he was coming to reasoning.

you felt sick, your head slightly turning to the side as you felt something coming on, a catch, but you didn’t know what.

you couldn’t do anything for WICKED anymore, there was nothing left you could give them, and you knew what they wanted, what ava wanted was something more than a silly bunch of maze drawings.

“what do you want?”

“you want to keep your secret, you want to protect friends? you’ll give me what i want.”

you stayed silent.

“i think you know what i want.”

“i don’t.”

“i want your blood.”

“you mean you want to drain me?”

“ava thinks you’re the cure.”

“ava’s a fool.”

“but yet she’s gets what she’s wants, always.”

°•

“you okay?”

“yeah, i just need you- i just need you to- please.”

thomas stared at you, questioningly with his head ducked down close to yours, a look of slight desperation filling his pupils to the brim, wanting to know what was running though your mind.

you wouldn’t be able to answer him if he asked. it already took a lot of you to tel him to meet you in the bathroom hall in private to talk to him without breaking down before the rest of your friends eyes.

janson gave you two options. one, you could sacrifice yourself and give up the supposed cure to ava and not risk anymore young innocent lives, or two, you could be sacrificed but this time, your friends would join you.

you had to decide by the next morning.

the answer was becoming clearer and clearer as minutes went by and the images of innocent teens being strung up and drained for their blood flashed up through your mind, something janson thought to show you just in case you already weren’t convinced of outing yourself.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe, your chest tightening up as you gripped his forearm firmly, trying to steady yourself from passing out or breaking down, but the overwhelming feeling of pain was swallowing you whole.

“what, y/n, what’s wrong?”

“thomas, they’re gonna kill me,” your voice came out strangled and breathless as you look up to him, your eyes beginning to water.

it was beginning to get harder and harder to breathe.

“who?”

“WICKED.”

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home. thomas x reader

summary 📣: in which reader and thomas share a close moment wondering if they’re finally home

warning/s 🚫: naked fluff, swearing 

slater’s note 🗯: thomas has blue eyes in this okay? 

it was peaceful. 

the high pressured water knocked down all the pain away, all the soreness from running and rushing away from all the past problems that happened in the last few day. it all went down the drain. 

the heat made your skin go numb in the most sensational way, the best feeling that had ever touched your skin in the longest time. you wanted to stay in there forever, but something was drawing you away into your new profound home. 

you turned off the faucet, running your hands through your wet hair before stepping out of the shower, the cold air immediately nipped all over at your skin, surrounding you in coldness. it made you shiver while wrapping the white towel hung next to your stall around your body.

the room seemed to be completely empty, taking you by surprise since just like you, no one had had a proper shower in years. you shifted back and forth on your feet, the cold, wet tiles pressing hard against the bareness while you thought, soon noticing you weren’t the only one that still occupied the the shower room. 

the water echoed loudly throughout the hollow, tiled filled room. it sounded lightly of a rainstorm, reminding you of afternoons in the glade when heavy water droplets fell from the previously clear blue sky, roughly crashing into the ground and tearing up the grass. 

it didn’t feel real. none of it. hours ago you could've sworn there no other world out there than besides the glade, and no other people than besides the hundreds of boys that came in and out of the glade, death stealing them from their feet. 

until thomas. with his crazy ambition and pretty blue eyes that drove you wild and out of your mind. the things he did within a couple of days you couldn’t ever do in a couple of years. he saved you, every one of you. 

“hey, pretty boy,” you peaked your head through the thin manila material that shaded everyones eyes away from the person in the shower stall, that being pretty crystal blue eyed thomas. 

how'd you guess?

he turned around, slightly shocked before realizing it was you, his facial features softening but yet slightly surprised still. 

“nice ass.”

“shut up.” 

you smiled up at him, admiring the way his eyes were shining back at yours, full of feverishness, high of energy. the rest of him looked worn out, your eyes dragging away his own, studying his low held shoulders, bruised, but clean. 

“you gonna join me or not?” 

you dropped your towel, your smile expanding at his words. you had never been with him personally, not this personally anyways. he was always a rock for you the moment he came from the box, finding a strange sense of comfort in him, as did he with you. 

the moment you met thomas, you immediately saw something you never saw in other boys that came to the maze.

he had a court of hope that filled his eyes. it looked like he never slept, and for that, it also looked like his mind never stopped racing, never stopped thinking. he was special, he didn’t give up, he wasn’t okay with the fact that he was trapped unlike the other half of the boys who were rather comfortable with it. 

he was a prodigy of hope. 

“you talk to all girls that way, thomas?” “never met one until now.”

he held you close, his fingers pressing deeply into your hipbones as his eyes filled your own, full of admiration, consuming every feature of yours. he had an amused look on his face as he begun to pull you closer and closer, soon pulling you beneath the hot water.

his amused smiled expanded into a playful one as the two of your were now completely emerged in the warmth of thick droplets of steaming hot water.

your chest was soon pressed against his before the eagerness got the better of the both of you. his head dipped down close to you until the both of your mouths were pressed against one another’s.

a tension of pleasure begun to build up in your stomach as he worked his lips against yours, sucking before your head dropped backwards letting a low exhale of pleasure escape past your lips.

the slightest opening of your mouth made him take his chances, slipping his tongue against yours.

“you sure kiss like you have,” you pulled away, a smiled swarming your face as you watch him roll his eyes before cupping your cheek, kissing you one last time on your lips before pulling you into an embrace.

you had never felt that way before. a strange sense of comfort filled your stomach like a glass of juice. it added onto the warm ness of the shower as your cheek was pressed against thomas’ bare chest while his chin was pressed in the crook of your neck.

he pressed soft, wet kisses against your shoulder making your stomach go warm in happiness, a different happiness you had never felt before. you had never felt such a fast yet long euphoria made from such a closeness you had with nobody before.

you pressed a soft kiss against his chest before pulling away slightly, looking up to the boy with full admiration, “you think we’ll stay like this forever?”

“what, in the shower..?”

“no,” you lightly laughed breathily, “happy, safe... home.”

he pressed his lips together in a thin line, his eyes reaching the far top of the ceiling, thinking and thinking before looking down again, meeting your eager and rare innocent looking eyes.

“we’re close, baby, real close.”

you melt. your hand reaches up to touch his face lightly, thumb caressing the light cut along his cheekbone. he closes his eyes lightly underneath your soft touch, soaking up how gentle you were.

“you’re home to me, thomas,” you whispered, continuing to stroke his cheek before you paused, rubbing your lips together before jumping up on your tippy toes, kissing his pretty lips.

maybe it was too fast, too random, too out of pocket... but you felt as if you needed to say it. you wanted him to hear it no matter how short of a time you knew him.

“i’ve never felt this way about anyone, no one has ever made me feel this safe,” your hand tracked to the back of his neck, running your fingers through the back of hair, “you feel like home.”

Bruh… these ai’s be wildin

"You can't seriously be telling me they're bringing her back here!, Newt I swear to God if I see her face I'm going to kill her with my bare hands!" Newt shook his head and shuffled towards me dropping his arms

"look, Y/n we have no choice...she's our only way in, She's our key to saving Minho....we have to."

" HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT!?" I yelled pacing back and forth

" I mean excuse me if I'm wrong but isn't this the same bitch who betrayed us?!?!?"

"y/n-"

"NO, NEWT...DONT START WITH THE Y/N BULLSHIT...SHE- she is the reason my little sister is dead...She took my family from me..if I see her face, she's dead."

I state walking off

"y/n-"

"just..let her be alright..Thomas will be back soon, let her cool off."

It's been an hour already, where the fuck is he?

Time was ticking...the more time being spent on going to get Teresa was just making me more angry...How are we supposed to use TERESA to get in the building that's holding Minho?? She's the whole reason we're in this mess in the first place and now they wanna bring her here as if she's gonna tell us anything? I swear to go-

"guys, Gally and Thomas are back..Brenda go find y/n, make sure she doesn't do anything she'll regret."

Oh I'm gonna do something alright, regret won't even be a thought that runs across my mind

Standing up, I walk twords the silhouette in the chair.

Snatching the bag off her head I look her dead in the eyes and deck her straight in the face

"Y/N!" Thomas called out trying to pull me back

Muffled noises echo throughout the walls, my fist plunges into her face as arms come at me from all directions, trying to pull me backwards away from Teresa, newt falls tripping over his feet

"Y/N!"

Finnally.. coming back to the present...I stop

Tears flowing down my face as I look at her with disgust

"why..." my voice repeated in a whisper

"WHY!" I Yelp

Her blue eyes stared deep...

"i-" she began

"WHYYYYY!"

"I'm sorry" she spoke, her voice barely reaching a whisper

"YOUR SORRY?, SHE WAS EIGHT YOU BITCH, You betrayed..all of us...FOR WHAT.....some dumb little cure?" My eyebrows knitting together as I scream at her.

Dropping her from my grasp I walk past Thomas and sit next to fry.

"we'll go on then Thomas..Gally, do what you were gonna do...I'm done...for now."

Thomas helps Teresa up and shuffles into a seat

"Here's how this is gonna go. We're gonna ask you some questions, and you're gonna tell us exactly what we need to know. We'll start off simple. Where's Minho?" Gally spoke eyeing Teresa, grabbing a chair he shuffled in front of teresa

"You guys don't seriously think..." She began, eyeing Thomas for help

"Don't look at him. Why are you looking at him? Look at me. He's not gonna help you. Now, we know you have Minho in the building....where?" He spoke slamming the chair down resting his arms onthe top of it.

"He with the others in holding, Sublevel three."

She spoke up

"How many others?" Thomas asks leaning forward

"28"

"I can make that work" Brenda spoke up loading a clip

"No, no, you guys don't understand. The whole level's restricted. You can't get in without a thumbprint ID." She retaliated

"That's why you're gonna come with us." Thomas spoke

"Well, I don't know. We don't necessarily need her. Right? Not all of her. We just need her finger." Gally seethed walking over to the table and picking up a scalpel

"That sounds like a great idea Gally, care if I do the honors?" I laughed standing up

"Y/n, Gally, back off." Thomas defended taking the scalpel from his hand

"What, are you squeamish? I Guarantee you she's done alot worse to Minho." I retaliate stepping towards her.

"That's not the plan. Back off. It won't make a Difference." Thomas spoke stopping me

"Pretty sure not having all of your fingers makes a pretty big difference...but hey whatever..ThAtS nOt tHe pLaN" I deadpan

"Do whatever you want to me. You still won't get through the front door...the sensors will pick you up, the..." She argued frantically

"We know. We're tagged. Property of WICKED. You're gonna help us with that, too." Thomas spoke kneeling next to her with the scalpel

"oh, hell" I state walking off

"y/n.." Thomas began as he followed me

Sitting down I look at my hands and ignore him

"y/n, listen to me..look I know-"

"no, no you don't...all of you need to stop saying that you know how I feel or that you know what I've been through, because you don't..ok ?..you didn't witness your eight year old sister getting shot in the head right before you're eyes..to have your entire world crumble and slip out of your hands and you can't do anything...and every single day all you think about is how much you want to off yourself....just to be with her.....to blame yourself because you couldn't do anything to help her.....while her lifeless body lay in my arms the only thing that went through my mind was how It should've been me instead.... Thomas she destroyed everything....Im never going to trust her." I cry falling apart into his chest

"I'm so sorry y/n...it will all be over soon I promise, but right now.." he stopped, taking my head in his hands he looked me in the eyes " right now, she is the only way we are going to get Minho back and get out of here... without her we don't stand a chance and I know, I know it's going to be hard for you but you have to do it....do it for newt, do it for Minho, do it for Zoe...."

"I can't Thomas i-" tears pool in my eyes as I gaze at the boy in front of me.."I can't-"

"Hey, hey...look at me." He whisper's whipping my cheek with his thumb...

"yes you can y/n, you are the strongest person I have ever met in my entire life....you can do this..I know you can."

I nod pulling myself together

"ok, ok... I'll try "

Undercover || Stiles Stilinski

A/N: just a blurb! nothing too lengthy because this is my first writing piece on here <3

word count: 845

WARNINGS: a bit of cursing, mentions of guns! This should be almost action-comedy :)

Inspired by this prompt.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Just try to relax, Stiles, okay? I don’t want a repeat of what happened the last time.”

As you looked over at your best friend and partner-in-crime, Stiles Stilinski, you didn’t miss the mischievous glint in his whiskey colored eyes as he thought back to the last time you both went undercover to get particulars on possible threats.

He tugged on his bottom lip in attempt to suppress the growing smile on his face as he continued to relive the memory in his head. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, eyes flickering up to rising number of floors in the elevator. “I thought we handled Cleveland pretty well.” He spoke while pushing his body off of the wall and fixating himself right next to you as the elevator doors began to open.

You cringed at the memory. Cleveland, what an experience.

“Ah, yes. How could I possibly forget the time I had to break a man’s nose to successfully get information out of him after a certain someone decided to get a little too carried away with their role?” You sighed dreamily, but it was quite the opposite. You couldn’t help but laugh at your best friend’s beaming grin at the fact that you remembered your first operation together. But how could you forget?

Stiles Stilinski had a horrible Russian accent.

“You made me get blood on my favorite dress.” You grumbled out to him, adjusting the fake prescription glasses on your face as you slowed your movements in front of two large glass doors in the pristine hallway of suits and pencil skirts.

With furrowed brows, Stiles trailed his eyes down your figure to inspect your outfit. “I thought this one was your favorite?” He mumbled, adjusting his tie due to the slight nerves he gets just before a meeting like this. Glancing down at the plum colored peplum dress you decided to wear, you met his confused stare with a look of disgust.

“What? No, I hate this dress. I just had nothing else to wear.” You explained with a shrug. Just as Stiles opened his mouth to speak, a older gentlemen in a dark suit pulled opened the doors the two of you stood in front of. His mouth snapped shut just as you straightened out your posture and offered the man a tight lipped smile, which he returned.

The man held his hand out, graciously shaking both of your rights ones with an award winning grin. “Ms. Warren and Mr. Rapp, I presume?” He asked to which you both nodded to confirm your false identities you were given with. “Donald Cheever, please, let’s begin.” The man, Cheever, wasted no time in opening the door wider for the both of you to step through.

Stiles was quick to take the closest seat next to you, a hand on your exposed knee as Mr. Cheever sat across from you both, hands folded in with one another.

The older man’s grin faded away within seconds, being replaced with a stone cold stare set on the two of you. “I can’t help but say that you look ravishing in the at color, Ms. Y/L/N.” He spoke cooly, sending shiver run straight down your spine as you swallowed thickly.

Stiles’ grip on your knee tightened, his jaw clenching as his whiskey colored eyes grew dark with anger. “Why don’t we cut the shit, and you tell me why you are really here, hm?” The man in front of you asked, and before you could fiercely decline his proposition, Stiles opened his mouth.

“You’re a dangerous man. Incredibly stupid as well, I mean, what’s with the ginormous shiny building if you’re supposed to be hiding from the government?” Stiles sneered, and you placed your hand over his to squeeze it in a warning manner.

Cheever turned to you, raising his brow in a questioning manner. “Please ignore my associate if you can.” You sighed, ignoring the incredulous look Stiles shot you.

There was a reason why your undercover operations always ended up getting physical. Stiles can never shut his mouth.

“I really can’t.”

“Are you just unaware that you have the whole Virginia base on your ass for incredibly lethal arms deals?” Stiles scoffed in disbelief, and your head snapped in his direction just as his own eyes widened in realization.

“He certainly does now, Stilinski.” You muttered to him between clenched teeth, shooting him a deadly glare to which he gave you an apologetic shrug.

By the time you both turned back to Cheever, you were not only met with his smug expression, but a black .45 caliber pointing directly at you.

You slowly turned your head back to Stiles, who was already looking at you and offering you a almost teasing grin. “It’s a good thing you wore that dress then, huh?”

You shook your head at his words with a hint of a smile, a chuckle passing through your lips as you slipped the fake glasses off your face, your gaze back on the man holding the gun.

It was a good thing, indeed.

↞ dylan o’brien masterlist ↠

roscoe-dream’s masterlist dedicated to dylan o’brien and all of his characters!

+ DYLAN O’BRIEN +

⠀

+ STILES STILINSKI +

Undercover

Stiles Stilinski is, without a doubt, your partner in crime. So when you go undercover together, it’s always a breeze.... right?

⠀

End of the Line ( 1 ) ( 2 )

Your job is to remember. To remember your other half — remember Stiles. Will your love for a person you don’t even remember be strong enough to bring him back?

⠀

+ THOMAS +

Happy Ending

The immune children have finally received their happy ending, no longer needing to run or to hide. Thomas wakes up at the Safe Haven, unaware that his happy ending came at a serious price.

⠀

+ STUART TWOMBLY +

Night Light

After sleeping with the lights on every night since you’ve arrived to Google, your roommate, Stuart, resorts to a pretty odd solution — not that you’re complaining.

⠀

+ DAVE HODGMAN +

Late Nights

Your best friend, Dave, makes sure you get home safely after a night of partying, and you’re too buzzed to notice his longing eyes.

End of the Line [ 1 ] || Stiles Stilinski

A/N: this takes place during season 6A, when Stiles is taken by the Ghost Riders. a STYDIA SCENE TURNED INTO AN STILES x READER SCENE. also, italicized text symbolizes memory.

word count: 2,426

WARNINGS: i’d say none, but some might consider angst? I don’t know how this works yet.

Inspired by this song. Highly recommended you listen on repeat while reading!

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

Your heart ached as you walked through the doors. It wasn't an aching that you'd get from seeing a sad scene in a movie or seeing someone cry in public — it’s the feeling you get when you lose someone. You felt like you lost someone.

You felt lost. And you didn't know why.

Frantic. You were so frantic, tears welling in your eyes as you scanned the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School in search of your hazel-eyed best friend.

"Y/N?"

You heard him call out for you, and in that moment you didn't care if you tripped over your own two feet to get to him. You did what it took to get to him as fast you could.

The wind was picking up. The golden brown autumn leaves that tumbled from the trees were being blown by the harsh wind, your hair being whipped around your face. You didn't care. You only cared about him, only cared about being in his arms.

"You know me. Oh, thank God." He panted, hurrying you into his strong embrace. You were speechless, heart racing at the thought of being too late before he was taken. Clinging to his body, your  fists clenching into his flannel shirt.

"I know you." You managed to squeak out, mind feeling hazy.

You knew him. But it began to feel like you didn't.

Your eyes screwed shut, and you hissed in pain at the sudden pounding to your temples. Instinctively, you held your head, ignoring the stares you were given by fellow peers as your slowed your walking in the hallway.

And just as quick as it came, the headache was gone. Your eyes sprung open, and you let your gaze travel through the sea of students. Fingers tingling as well as the tip of your tongue, and you couldn't explain why. Someone was supposed to be here. But where were they?

With your brows furrowed, a look of determination settled nicely on your features. You pushed your way through the bodies, but not without looking at each one of their faces in hopes of easing the longing feeling that was only growing in the pit of your stomach.

"I think everyone else is forgetting."

Your words were weary, tears leaking from your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. Bottom lip wobbling as your grip on his flannel shirt only tightened.

The sight of you this way broke his heart, and you could see it in his whiskey colored eyes.

'Those eyes, how could I forget them?' You thought. But little did you know it was already slipping your mind.

He opened his mouth to give you as many comforting words he could before his time was up, but it was too late.

The wind picked up gradually, cold air nipping at both of your skin causing your cheeks to flush. Your clothes flapping against your body as your hair attempted to block your vision of him. So you tied it up.

Although it was blind to your eyes, it wasn't to his. He froze in your arms, a panicked look taking over his beautiful features as his eyes darted around in front of him. You could feel his breathing picking up as you held him, which caused yours to do the same.

"What is it?" You asked, no matter how badly you didn't want to ask the question — you did.

"Do you see them?" Was all he asked, his arms slipping from their hold on you as he slowly stepped back.

You took this time to look around you, only to see the dimly lit parking lot with a few cars in it. "See what?"

He whimpered at your response, and you watched as tears filled his eyes. Taking a step toward you, his large hand clasped around your wrist, gently tugging you in his direction and away from the men on the horses that only he saw. His eyes weren't on you, they were on something ahead of you — they were on them.

"Stiles," You swallowed thickly, slowly pulling your eyes away from the empty lot to his fear stricken face. "If you can see them, they're gonna.."

You couldn't finish. You didn't want to, because you knew if you did, the truth would become even more real than it already has.

Stiles finally tore his eyes away from the Ghost Riders that slowly gathered in front of the two of you, grabbing onto both of your arms firmly.

"No, I know. I know. They're coming for me."

Headache again, but what was the trigger?

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, wincing at the harsh pounding in your head. It felt as though the back of your head was being whacked with a metal bat and you couldn't get it to settle or stop.

Looking around again, nobody seemed to give you the wave of familiarity you were yearning for.

You began to grow frustrated with yourself. Why couldn't you remember who you were looking for? They must've been way too important to forget if your body is aching to find them.

But you can't fulfill your own needs.

Why? Because you don't even know who you were looking for anymore.

"You have to get away from me. Right now, okay?"

You felt your pulse begin to quicken as the hairs on your arms and back of your neck began to rise. They were here, they were close. You could feel them, but you couldn't see them.

Shaking your head at him, Stiles scoffed. Now wasn't the time to be stubborn, so he let it go. "Alright, come on. Come on!"

He began to drag you off in the direction away from the school's doors, and you didn't even care about the fact that he was pulling you so carelessly, you were tripping over your own two feet. You needed to get away.

You crashed into Stiles' body as he stopped abruptly, him seeing a single Ghost Rider at the end of the path. "This way, this way, come on." Just like that, he was pulling you back in the direction you came.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!" He shouted, skidding into another stop.

The tears rolling down your face were relentless, looking in multiple directions, but seeing absolutely nothing. Unlike Stiles, who had every reason to be afraid, but all he was worried about was you.

"Stiles!" You finally broke, a sob escaping your lips as you let him drag you around through the parking lot in attempt to escape. "Stiles, where are they?" You whimpered, huddling your body as close to his as possible.

He slowed his movements, panting breaths with eyes full of fear and panic as he looked around you both.

"They're everywhere."

The headaches you were beginning to feel made you feel numb. It hurt that much.

Heading to your locker, you raised your shaky hands to the combination lock that rested there, swirling in the combination.

You've never had headaches or migraines this severe, or repeatedly in one day. You never thought to keep spare Advil in your bag or locker. Glancing at the clock posted on one of the walls in the hallway, you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of having a little more than 10 minutes until class started.

'Maybe the headaches would die down by then,' you thought to yourself, rummaging through your locker to put away larger textbooks only to replace them with the needed ones.

Your locker slammed shut, and you clamped the combination lock back together. Almost immediately, you turned your head to look across the emptier hallway. You looked at the set of lockers across the hall expectantly, but soon made a face of confusion. The action was almost an instinct, but nobody you knew was over there, you were met with an empty set of lockers.

"Don't look at them, Y/N, okay?"

Stiles was booking it to his powder blue jeep, hand latched with yours as he struggled to get the keys out of his back pocket. Neither of you skipped a beat when throwing yourselves into the front seats, hands reattaching almost immediately.

"Don't try to scream, they'll take you too. Do not look at them." He ordered, both of you jumping at the loud crack of lightening in the sky. However to Stiles, it was the whip of a Ghost Rider.

You shook your head rapidly. "I won't, I won't!" you assured him, heart lurching in your chest as you watched the car keys slip from his shaking grasp.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as Stiles' hurried movements stopped, and instead of starting the ignition and driving out of here, he let his hand fall into his lap. "What are you doing? We need to get out of here!" You yelped, feeling your heart stop all together.

"There's no time." Was all he said.

He turned his body to face yours, using both hands to grab onto yours with need. "Y/N, I'm going to be erased, okay? Just like Alex. You're gonna forget me."

Alex. A name you didn't recognize. You knew it was the effects of the Ghost Riders, and didn't suppress the sob that left your mouth.

"No. No, I won't! I won't. I won't." You promised, your sobs escaping at every chance they could.

The only reason why you were sobbing as bad as you were, was because you were making a promise you couldn't keep. As you stared into the beautiful whiskey eyes of your best friend, as welcoming and calming as they were, they were beginning to look unfamiliar to you.

Stiles shushed your mumbles of promises by placing his larger hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. "You will." He whispered calmly, tears rolling down his own freckled cheeks as he gave you a small smile. "Just try to find some way to remember me, okay?"

Remember.

Your bottom lip trembled as you desperately grabbed onto his hands, your eyes never moving to look at anything but his own.

"Remember how you were the first person to know my real name?" He chuckled, eyes lighting up slightly at the sight of you giving him a breathless laugh at the hazy memory, soon followed by a sniffle.

Remember.

"Remember how you always liked to hold my hand in the hallways so you wouldn't get trampled, just like I'll always remember how you smile at me across the hallway from your locker." He spoke, words trembling while using the pads of his thumbs to wipe away to new set of tears.

You wept as you leaned into his slightly familiar hands, fighting with yourself to remember, but cried when you were only given a slight hazy vision.

You were forgetting.

Stiles tore his gaze away from yours quickly, before reconnecting them and sniffling. "Remember how you were the only person I talked to about my mom, Y/N. I trust you with my life." He breathed out, leaning his forehead against yours as his eyes shut.

"And I trust you with mine." You let out weakly, eyes closing as you savored the touch that, for some reason, brought you so much comfort.

Remember.

He pulled away slowly, peeling his eyes opened and you gasped. You didn't know those eyes, not one bit.

Stiles' heart shattered at the fact, he could see the scared look on your face clearly. Readjusting his grip on your face, he licked his lips nervously before speaking again."Remember... Remember that I've been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn't even realize until middle school." He chuckled humorlessly, swiping at the few stray tears that sprung from your eyes.

Remember.

You shook your head in his hold, the faint memories of your blossoming friendship since diapers flashing before your eyes. "Stiles." You wailed, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth to silence your cries.

The boy's eyes flickered past you, his heart stopping at the sight of a Ghost Rider just outside your window. He released a steady breath, leaning into your face.

"And remember this."

He whispered, and before you could ask, his lips were planted on yours.

Tears rolled down each of your cheeks, merging together in the places your faces were touching. It was a whole new set of waterworks, because as he kissed you, you could feel the distant wanting of this moment. However, it was crowded by the overwhelming feeling of unfamiliarity.

You pulled away, a ghost of a smile on your lips as you stared into a pair of beautiful whiskey eyes.

Remember.

The moment didn't last long at all.

Time seemed like it slowed instantly in this moment, but it hadn't at all — in fact, it happened way too quick for you to comprehend.

The door to Stiles' side opened by a large gust of wind, a Ghost Rider, and he was dragged out. You screamed, at an octave that would put a banshee to shame. Reaching out for the boy that was pulled out of the car by the wind, you choked on a sob when he disappeared with a crack of lighting.

Your arms wrapped around yourself as you pushed your body into the jeep at was slowly beginning to fade from your memory, the only word leaving your lips being 'Remember.'

You jumped at the feeling of a hand being placed on your arm, snapping out your daze to meet the concerned looks of Scott, Malia, and Lydia.

"You alright?" Scott asked softly, taking a step closer to get a good look at your face after getting a whiff of your anxious aroma.

As Scott stepped forward, Malia did too, inspecting your face with her naturally gruff expression. "People were looking at you stupid for staring at the lockers across the hall. Who are you looking for?" She asked bluntly, letting out a yelp from the whack on the arm she received from Lydia.

Despite how blunt her words were, you looked at her as tears filled your eyes. Her hard gaze softened almost immediately, feeling guilty as she thought what she said hurt your feelings.

But that wasn't it, not at all. It was the multiple painful headaches you got just from being at school for 10 minutes. It was the longing feeling you had in the pit of your stomach, the anxiousness you felt walking through the hallways because you were supposed to be with someone. You were looking for someone, but —

"I, um.. I can't remember."

Happy Ending || Thomas

A/N: quite the opposite of a happy ending. oops. also I tried writing in bigger paragraphs so it didn’t seem so long, but I have a wattpad mindset to break every single paragraph. ugh.

word count: 2,055

WARNINGS: small mention of death (there isn’t a scene or anything). waterwork central. i teared up multiple times writing this.

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Words couldn’t even express his emotions.

When he woke up, he was confused. He was scared, he was worried. Had WCKD caught up to them? Where was he?

Stepping out of the cloth tent, he instantly reached to shield his eyes from the beaming rays of the sun, his sight not yet used to the brightness. The people of the Safe Haven paused their actions as Thomas stumbled through, watching in awe at the fact that they were a few metres from their savior.

He ignored the looks he was receiving, but instead let his own eyes wander about, looking at the sturdy construction of the huts that looked as though they’ve been built months ago, as well as the plantations that were distanced a few feet away from one another.

Was this it?

The Safe Haven, was he actually here?

Thomas pointed his gaze to the sea, feeling his body wash over with serenity as he watched the warm sun slowly hide behind the ocean. As he did this, he failed to notice someone walking in his direction after noticing his arrival.

The thuds of feet didn’t pull Thomas’ eyes away from the view of the waves, but rather the string of curses that came from the mouth of the Brit.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder eagerly, rocking Thomas’ body causing the brunette to snap his head in that very direction. “Hey there, Greenie.” Newt gave him a nod, a light sparkling in his beady eyes. Thomas couldn’t believe it, he was staring right at his best friend, who had died right in front of him. Newt acknowledged his stunned expression, a snort escaping him. “If Gally can do it, I should be able to as well.” He reasoned, making a ghost of a smile appear on Thomas.

But just as quick as it appeared, it vanished. His whiskey eyes filled to the brim with tears as he turned to his first friend, grabbing onto his shoulder tightly before pulling Newt into the tightest hug he could muster. “I’m sorry,” Thomas mumbled, his eyes clenching shut as he attempted to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.” He finally admitted, sniffling before pulling away to look into a pair of sincere eyes.

Newt simply shook his head, squeezing Thomas’ shoulder. “That’s just it. You did save me. You saved us.” He reassured, turning Thomas back into the direction of the bottom of the hill where he could see all of his fellow survivors. “You saved all of us. We wouldn’t be here without you, Tommy.”

Thomas slowly looked away from the camp, turning back to Newt, with even more questions. “But.. h-how? When I left.. when I left you, you were-” His voice could barely go above a whisper, afraid that if he raised his voice in the slightest, this would just disappear from his vision.

It was Newt’s turn to become hesitant, glancing down at his boots before returning back to Thomas. “Y/N.” He stated eventually, and the dark haired boy perked up immediately at the sound of your name, his body flooding with concern and worry as he realized you were not at his side or Newt’s. “She found me, after going with Minho to get the serum.” Newt paused, his eyes glazing over as he observed the crashing of the waves on the shore.

Thomas took note of his sudden change of mood, which only caused his concern and worry for the girl to increase. “Newt,” His voice was weary, but there was warning in his tone as he watched his blonde friend clam up just speaking about you. Releasing a slow breath, Newt eyed him, keeping eye contact to a minimum. “She uh, she got me back to Minho.. and then she-” It shocked Thomas to see Newt choke on his own sob, and the sinking feeling in his stomach let him know that Newt’s words were not going to end the way either of them wanted it to.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. She didn’t make it.”

In an instant, Thomas’ heart was in his stomach. The boy gapped at him, tears rolling down his flushed cheeks as he frantically searched Newt’s saddened gaze in hopes of finding a hint of amusement — Thomas hoped this was some sort of sick joke to wake up to, and that you would pop up with that beaming smile that always seemed to make his day a little lighter.

He swiftly turned his body in the direction of camp, his hazel eyes squinting as he made out as many faces as he could see from on top of the hill he was perched on. He barely had time to realize his own rapid breathing before Newt stepped closer to him, resting his hand on his shoulder once again. “She’s not here.” His words were soft, and careful. He didn’t want anymore damage to be done.

It was all too real. It was too real, and too soon.

Thomas let himself break, a ear piercing shout leaving his pink lips as he buried his face into Newt’s shoulder. The blonde boy didn’t jump like the campers did, he knew what was coming, and he also knew that the only thing he could do was hold his best friend while his heart broke for Y/N.

The broken babbles that Thomas spoke were too slurred to comprehend, and his mind was a prison — it was torture.

You was supposed to be here. If anybody deserved to have this happy ending, it was Y/N. He promised you that he would give you this happy ending, no matter what it takes.

“Tommy?”

Your voice was light, barely above a whisper as you caught the attention of the boy, his whiskey colored eyes on you immediately as you kept yours locked with the twinkling stars.

The pair of you were in the middle of the Glade, laying on the ground and watching the stars away from your friends who were sleeping in your makeshift beds. Sound was easily picked up on, so you both did your best to keep your volume low to avoid getting caught by Alby.

“Yeah?” He mumbled, his eyes trailing over the side of your face, memorizing them. Thomas didn’t turn away when you shifted your head to the side, catching gazes with him and staring at each other.

It was silent for a few moments, the two of you laying side by side comfortably and admiring each other’s features. “Where do you think we’d be, you know, in another life?”

The question left Thomas pondering, not having an answer of his own. He raised his eyebrows, silently signaling you to keep talking. You took the hint, rolling onto your side and resting the side of your head in your hand, your elbow keeping you propped up, offering him a soft smile.

“Well, in another life, we wouldn’t be in the maze.” You giggled, a sound that Thomas found himself melting at. His lips curled up in a smile as you spoke, listening intently. “I don’t know,” You shrugged lightly, glancing down at the blades of grass you were fumbling with before locking eyes with Thomas’ hazel ones.

“I guess in another life, we’d be together.” You whispered shyly, a strawberry blush coating your cheeks. “Me and you, all of us. We’d be with everyone in here, and we’d have a life better than the ones we had before we were put in here.” Your bottom lip found its way to your teeth, and you chewed on it as you thought of your next few words. “We’d have a happy ending.”

Your eyes were on the blades of grass now, avoiding Thomas’ stares at all costs. He noticed this, grabbing your hands in his and pulling you both up into a sitting position, his fingers laced with yours.

“You, more than anyone, deserve a happy ending.” He whispered to you sincerely, the pads of his thumbs rubbing over your knuckles. “You’ve been in the maze for three years. I’ve been here for almost a week, and it’s not ideal.” He tried to joke, smiling proudly when he was able to pull a small laugh out of you.

Your laughter died down and Thomas was staring at you in a way that was unfamiliar to you. Suddenly the feeling of him rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles shot a feeling straight to the pit of your stomach. Your cheeks flushed, and you began to grow flustered at Thomas’ gaze on you, but still, you didn’t want it to stop.

“You will have your happy ending, Y/N.” He insisted, tone even, yet assuring. “No matter what it takes, even if it’s the last thing I do. I will give you your happy ending.”

Thomas let out a yelp of surprise, followed by a small ‘oomf’ when you crashed your body into his, hugging onto him tightly. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as your arms wrapped around him. His body shook with laughter at the sudden action of affection you gave him, but held you close to him regardless.

“Thank you, Tommy.”

Thomas finally lifted his head from Newt’s shoulder, his wrist coming up to wipe at his bloodshot eyes. He didn’t dare meet the blonde boy’s stare, instead he looked out at the setting sun.

“This was it, Newt.” He broke the silence, shaking his head almost as if he were disappointed in himself. “This was her happy ending. Y/N’s happy ending, and she’s not even here to see it.”

Thomas was angry. He was angry at himself for keeping a promise to you that he couldn’t keep, for being here and instead of you. It didn’t feel right to him to live on paradise without you by his side. A sound of disbelief resonated from Newt, his arms crossed over his chest as he glanced over at the brunette. “‘Any ending where he’s happy, is a happy ending for me.’”

Thomas turned to look at the Brit, his eyebrows furrowed to match his perplexed stare. “What?” He was confused to say the least, unknowing of the quote Newt said out of the blue.

“It’s what she said to me before she,” He paused, gesturing with his hand before it slipped back into his armpit. “You know. I didn’t get it until now.” He spoke with a fond smile on his face, and a distant look in his eyes. “She loved you, you know.”

Once again, the feeling of Thomas’ heart in his stomach returned, simultaneously breaking. “I know.” The words were blunt, and it hurt him to say it. Newt’s bushy brows rose at the confession, a low hum emitting from his chest. “And you loved her.”

The statement now made Thomas sigh, giving him a reluctant nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”

“Okay. So don’t be a twat and spend the rest of your life here on this beautiful island in agony because of this. It’s okay to grief, it’s okay to mourn, Tommy.” With every word that came from Newt’s mouth, he inched closer to Thomas until his arm was wrapped around his shoulders in a side hug. “But live the life you’re deserving of. And if you can’t do it for you, do it for her. Live your life for Y/N.”

The last few words of Newt’s small speech really struck a cord with Thomas.

So as he stood in front of the large boulder full of carved names, he clutched the metal carving tools in his shaking hands.

“You can do it, Thomas.” Minho’s voice piped up from behind him, followed by a few other encouraging words from Newt, Teresa, Gally, Frypan, and Brenda.

He let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding, and began to carve out your name underneath the chubby boy with the rosy cheeks you took under your wing when he had first arrived in the box before Thomas.

His heart was broken, in need of mending, in need of you. He was finally free of needles, free of cranks, free of walls. Free of WCKD.

Thomas was finally home, but deep down, he knew that home would never be home without you here with him.

Night Light || Stuart Twombly

A/N: I was thinking of a cute college fic + cuddling and thought of bby stuart. posting it now because I was too excited to wait!!

word count: 1,658

WARNINGS: cursing and sleepy twombly feels.

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“You look pretty pooped, Stewie. You okay?”

Billy’s voice spoke out in the midst of your Google team chattering about the next challenge, making all sound cease and eyes look over to a certain grouchy brunette with a beanie covering the top of his face.

You stifled a laugh at the sight of him, his head leaning back against the top of his swirly chair with his arms crossed over his chest. Stuart groaned in annoyance at the undesired nickname given to him by the older man, but didn’t bother to correct him as he pulled the beanie away from his glasses and adjusting it on his curls.

“No. No, I’m not okay.” He snapped, causing the group of adults to raise a brow at him. “I haven’t been able to sleep because of a certain dumbass.” Stuart’s gaze was now in front of him, on you, an angered look in his slitted eyes. You scoffed at his words, mimicking his figure and crossing your arms over your chest, shrugging as you sneered. “Listen here, asshole, it’s not my fault you can’t sleep at night.”

The pair of you were too engulfed in your heated argument to notice Billy let out a low whistle while stepping forward. “Hey, guys, why don’t we calm it down a little bi-”

“You sleep with the god damn light on! How am I supposed to get any sleep when it’s as bright as the sun in the room?!”

You laughed falsely, giving him the biggest, sickly sweet smile you could. “If it’s such an issue for you, Twombly, why don’t you go to Chetty and get a room switch?”

The brunette snorted, his hazel eyes rolling behind his glasses. “I shouldn’t have to! You’re 21 years old, Y/N, you don’t need a night light!”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, but was cut short by Neha’s outburst. “That’s enough!” She shouted, jumping up from her seat and turning to you. “Y/N, you know I love you, but we don’t give a shit about your guy’s sleeping issues. We need to focus on this challenge, we’re seriously behind.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks flushing in embarrassment when realizing she was absolutely right and arguing with Stuart was just wasting time. You nodded your head, silently surrendering while looking over at the beanie wearing brunette to see him doing the same. A sigh made it’s way past your lips as Nick stepped forward, wrapping his arm around Yo-Yo with a face full of optimism. “Alright, nooglers, let’s nail this challenge!”

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Your feet dragged along the carpeted floor of the Google building’s hallway, making your way past the numerous identical doors in the dorm hall. Not too far behind you was Stuart, and it didn’t take a brain to figure out that he was involved in his phone.

Not too long ago, the team had just finished the challenge assigned to them... and failed, once again. The thought of the defeated brought a slouch to your posture and a frown on your face, so you decided to focus on your exhaustion rather than your defeat for the night. As you waited in front of the door, you let out a squeak of surprise when Stuart crashed into you, knocking you into your dorm’s door. He gasped, dropping his phone onto the ground, before looking up at you with bulging eyes. “What the hell are you doing just standing there?”

You stared at him with astonishment, a dry chuckle rumbling from your chest as you shook your head at him. “You’re saying that like you weren’t the one that bumped into me.” Pointing your finger into Stuart’s chest, his eyes flickered between your finger and your face with a small smirk. “I’m waiting out here because you have the dorm key, doofus.”

Pushing past you, Stuart grabbed the dorm key from his back pocket. “They gave us two for a reason.” The brunette mumbled as he unlocked the door, walking through it first and switching on the overhead light. “Well I left mine,” you paused, walking through the dorm room and shutting it, picking up an identical key card from the counter by the door. “Inside.”

You watched as Stuart pulled the navy blue beanie from his head, revealing the tousled curls that you only saw in the late evening. He ignored your presence as you moved around the room, leaning against the headboard of his bed and tapping away at his phone while you gathered your things for a shower. Your shower was quick, knowing that if you took too long in the bathroom while Stuart was tired he would shut off the light before you even came out.

When you did exit the bathroom, your eyes darted to where you thought the hazel eyed boy was, only to find him by the light switch. Your eyes widened in realization, taking a step towards your bed. “Stuart, no.”

“Y/N, yes.” He mocked you, a smug smirk on his pink lips while he placed the light switch between his index and thumb. “I’m fucking exhausted, and you keeping the light on is only going to make it worse for me tomorrow. I’m turning it off.”

“No!” You panicked , a deep frown settling on your features as you watched his grin grow wider. “I can’t sleep like that.” You mumbled, feeling your neck and face grow hot with embarrassment under his teasing eyes. Stuart raised his brows, nodding slowly with that same smug look. “You mean like this?” He asked, fingers dragging the light switch down and making the room go dark. You let out a piercing shriek, catapulting yourself onto your bed.

As embarrassing as it was, you were afraid of the dark. Always have been.

You brought your knees to your chest, frantically searching for any sight of the brunette in the dark. “Turn it back on, Twombly! I’m serious!” Your voice stammered, resulting in Stuart to groan before flicking the light back on.

“Y/N!” Stuart whined, throwing his head back. “I can’t sleep with this light on. You have been sleeping with it on for the past few weeks! Just for tonight?” He proposed, sighing loudly when you simply shook your head at his offer.

You observed him silently while he bit the inside of his cheek, glancing over at his empty bed that was across from yours, to the light switch, before settling his gaze back on you.

The boy sighed, stepping away from the light slightly which made you relax. “Don’t scream, or do anything stupid.” He demanded, pulling his glasses off his face and giving you a better view of his whiskey colored eyes. Your brows furrowed in confusion, but soon your body tensed when his fingers were back on the light switch.

A whimper escaped your mouth when the room went dark once again, and you quickly shuffled underneath the covers. The bed creaked slightly from your actions, but you didn’t care. It was quite for a few moments, nothing heard but the slow shuffling in the room that you could only rule out to be Stuart.

There was a sudden thudding noise, followed by a larger one. “Oh fuck, damn it!” His hushed voice grunted, which you let out a laugh at. “You okay, Twombly?” You asked into the dark, your eyes roaming around what looked like a dark empty space, feeling your heart race a little faster.

“I’m fine.”

His voice was a lot closer now, but still as soft as a whisper. You swallowed thickly, nodding your head even though he couldn’t see you. There were a few more moments of silence, the only thing being heard was both of your breathing. Although you could hear Stuart’s breathing perfectly fine, you knew he was close because you could faintly feel it on your face.

Your bed began to creak once again, but it wasn’t from your shuffling, it was from Stuart’s. Quickly moving as close to the wall as you could, you made enough room for him to lay down as he hesitantly made his way into your bed.

“Stuart?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re you doing?”

It was silent again, you could hear his breathing as well as feel it on your face. His breath smelled like a faint mint, not overpowering like he had swallowed multiple mints. You waited patiently for his response, not commenting on the fact that you could hear him swallow because of your close proximity.

“I thought that, uh, I would sleep with you so that you aren’t as scared with the lights off.” He murmured, and you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up for the third time today. Your silence, fortunately, egged him on his reasoning. “You’re scared of the dark, so if you knew that I was here and in the dark with you, you wouldn’t be so scared anymore.”

His voice was quiet, and sincere. You felt your heart swell at his actual kind words, a smile growing onto your lips to compliment your rosy cheeks. Thankful that it actually was dark, you didn’t want Stuart to see you in such a flustered manner.

You took the next step, shuffling closer to him under the covers and wrapping your arms around his torso, curling up into his chest. In this position, you could hear Stuart’s heart thudding at a quicker pace than average, and the grin on your face only grew because it matched your own.

“You don’t have to do this, Twombly. Thank you.”

Your whispers made his chest rumble with a short laugh, his arms cautiously wrapping around your waist.

“Yeah, well,” the grip the brunette had on your figure tightened slightly, his hand brushing against your back. “Just shut up and deal with it.”

That was the first night you slept in the dark, and the first night Stuart slept at all, since you met.

And boy, did it feel good.

in honor of EOTL pt. 2 almost being finished.. i am reblogging my baby 🥺🥺 i’m so fuckcifngc excited to post it

End of the Line [ 1 ] || Stiles Stilinski

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Author’s Note: This takes place during season 6A, when Stiles is taken by the Ghost Riders. A STYDIA SCENE TURNED INTO AN STILES x READER SCENE. Also, italicized text symbolizes memory.

Word count: 2,426

WARNINGS: I’d say none, but some might consider angst? I don’t know how this works yet.

Inspired by this song. Highly recommended you listen on repeat while reading!

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Your heart ached as you walked through the doors. It wasn’t an aching that you’d get from seeing a sad scene in a movie or seeing someone cry in public — it’s the feeling you get when you lose someone. You felt like you lost someone.

You felt lost. And you didn’t know why.

Frantic. You were so frantic, tears welling in your eyes as you scanned the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School in search of your hazel-eyed best friend.

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End of the Line [ 2 ] || Stiles Stilinski

A/N: part two is here! there isn’t much stiles present in this until the end because.. he’s erased.. rip.. but I hope you read it still! STYDIA turned STILESxREADER. Some other scenes are changed around too. italicized text are memories.

word count: 8,239

WARNINGS: lots of angst and tears! but your heart will be mended at the end.

Inspired by this song and this song. Highly recommended you listen on repeat while reading!

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ [ Part One ]

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You couldn’t tell if the reason the aching was due to your heart cracking in two or not, but you didn’t give it much thought as tears rolled down your cheeks. As you stood in front of the pack, your eyes darted over each one of their solemn faces that stared back at you. Your mouth was agape, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you tried to form a sentence. But you couldn’t, your body was frozen in place as you tried to process the utter betrayal of your friends.

‘Stiles can’t be her son.’

Lydia’s voice echoed through your ears, the words tumbling from her lips in defeat. You refused to believe them, though. From the night you woke up gasping for breath, the name ‘Stiles’ being the only thing you said, you refused to believe that he wasn’t real.

“We-” You stammered, bottom lip quivering as you locked gazes with the leader of the pack. “We have to keep looking for him. We have to keep looking for Stiles.”

Scott’s face fell, his heart aching as he watched his best friend break over someone none of you could remember. Although he was silent, it spoke volume to you. “What about a relic?” You tried, eyes darting to both Malia and Lydia desperately. The strawberry blonde sighed, her hand grabbing onto the wrist that was roughly handled not too long ago. “There’s no relic of Stiles-”

“We don’t know that!” You shouted at her, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and looking down at your shuffling feet to avoid their bewildered gazes.

Malia’s blunt voice was next to speak, “It doesn’t even sound like a real name.” She scoffed, her arms crossing over her chest while glancing over to the other two wary teens. “We’re fighting the wrong battle, Y/N.”

Your vision grew blurry with tears, and while you tried your best to make sure they didn’t fall, a few escaped in the process. “We’re trying to bring Stiles back.” Your voice was weak. The thought of your best friends abandoning someone so easily made your heart ache. “He’s out there, and we need to help him. We need to-”

“Enough!” The alpha’s voice suddenly boomed, making your heart stutter. You stared at him with bulging eyes, jaw dropped in shock at the volume of his voice. “The ghost riders are back, and we have no way of stopping them.” Scott spoke sternly, his eyes narrowed at you. “And whatever they are, they’re real. We can’t keep chasing after someone who isn’t.”

Malia instantly agreed with him, her head bobbing up and down. “We have to move on. He didn’t leave anything behind.” She said, the pair of them turning away from you and making their way towards the exit of the hospital. When you looked to Lydia with your bloodshot eyes and wet, flushed cheeks, your bottom lip began to quiver again.

“The only thing he left behind, was me.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

Your fingers massaged your temples in attempt to soothe another one of the piercing headaches you’ve been getting since a couple weeks ago. You knew it had to deal with Stiles, it was the only explanation. For the past three months, up until a couple weeks ago, you never thought of a Stiles or felt as empty as you did now without him.

“Why don’t they believe me?” You croaked, letting your tear stained face fall into your hands as your shoulders raked with sobs. They didn’t stop, even when Lydia placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He’s real, Lyd. I know it.”

“I believe you.”

Your hair stuck to your stained cheeks as your head to snap up to her direction. “After everything we’ve been through, I believe you.” Her words were soft, but sincere, and it was all you needed to pull her into an embrace you so desperately needed. You two held each other in silence, and you thought back of the event that took place a few days ago with the pack at the hospital — of them giving up on Stiles. Lydia pulled away when the shrill sound of the bell rang throughout the hallway, her hands coming up to your face to wipe at your cheeks and fix your makeup. “Let’s get to class.”

“Stiles, seriously, I need to get to class!”

Your laughter was loud as it bounced off the walls of the hallway. It was empty, just you and Stiles in it as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tans tugged you close to his body. Whipping around to face him, your laughter died down as you stared into his whiskey eyes, your lips curled into a soft smile.

“You have a bathroom pass, you’re okay to stay here for a few more minutes.” He assured, his bottom lip jutting out into a little pout to persuade you. With a playful roll of your eyes, and a cheesy smile, you sat back down on the stairwell.

“Okay, Stilinski, but you’re the one failing history. Not me.”

And once again, your giggles could be heard throughout the empty hallway as you watched your hazel eyed best friend do a victory cheer.

You inhaled sharply at the sudden ache to your head, a whimper leaving your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. You haven’t felt a pain like that for a few days, why is it starting again now?

Ignoring Lydia’s lingering concern, you adjusted the strap of your bag and quickly scurried off to AP Biology. Fortunately, you shared that class with Lydia, but you also shared it with Scott. Your bag made a small clattering sound when you plopped down in your assigned stool, your head falling into your folded arms. Your position stayed this way for pretty much majority of class, up until you felt a nudge to your side. Pulling your head from your arms, you turned to look at Lydia with furrowed brows, lips parting to ask what was wrong before she silently pointed outside the window.

Slowly following her gaze, you stared straight at what appeared to be an abandoned powder blue jeep.

“What if we gave it a paint job?”

You asked aloud as you leaned down to soak the large sponge in your hand with water from a bucket by your feet. Plopping it onto the hood of Stiles’ jeep, you bit back a smile after glancing at the spastic boy’s bewildered expression.

“No!” He gasped, sounded deeply offended. “I love this jeep. Rust, dents, and all. Plus, it was my mom’s and she never changed the color.”

Your lips pulled into a frown at his words, loosening your grip on the sponge and let it sit on the hood of the jeep, rounding the front of the vehicle to meet Stiles on the other side. “I’m not saying we change it, Sti, just.. make it look nicer. It’s like the homeless person of cars!”

You fell into a fit of laughter at his horrified expression, not missing the ghost of a smile he held on his freckled face.

“That’s it, you’re walking home!”

Your eyes grew wildly as you continued to study the jeep, ignoring the stinging to your skull as you turned to face Lydia, shaking her out of the daze you found yourself in seconds before. She quickly blinked back to reality, her eyes eagerly searching your own. “We need to get to that jeep.” You whispered, watching as her strawberry blonde hair swayed with the bobs of her head. She opened her mouth to speak, but was very soon interrupted by another voice.

“Ladies, is there something outside that’s more fascinating than the structure of the human mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t think so.”

You grimaced at the woman’s pointed gaze at your answer, quickly giving her an apologetic smile before she turned back to the rest of the class. As soon as her attention was off the pair of you, your eyes traveled back to the rusty jeep in the parking lot. “Now, many people credit the corpus callosum for giving us sense of intuition, gut instinct, even we ourselves aren’t aware-”

Her lecture was cut short by the screeching of stools. The sound made the class of teens divert their attention from the biology teacher to you and Lydia, who were looking around with a similar absent look in your eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, only tears forming in your waterline. Thankfully, the teacher noticed, and with a labored sigh, she nodded towards the door. You quickly exited the classroom, faintly hearing an ‘I’ll be right back’ from Lydia and an ‘I’m going to go check on her’ from Scott. Your swift pace didn’t slow at the sound of another pair of clacking heels and thudding footsteps. Pushing past the school doors, you ran towards the man attaching his tow hook to the front of the jeep.

“Hey, wait!”

The man turned in your direction, an eyebrow raised with curiosity at your frantic behavior. “You can’t tow this jeep.” You spoke between pants, looking behind you to see Scott and Lydia walking up to your sides.

“Paperwork says I can. It’s been reported as abandoned.”

Your eyes rolled, and you pushed past the man to slap a hand on the hood of the vehicle, eyes narrowed up on his taller figure. “There. Now it’s not.”

The man opened his mouth to protest, but with the menacing glare Scott was giving him, he unclasped the hook from the hood of the car, and pulled out of the parking lot. The three of you looked between each other, clearly stumped as to why you went out of your way to stop the tow man. “Well, now we have a jeep- Scott, you okay?”

The teenager had his head cocked to the side, eyes squinting in concentration as he slowly walked towards the door of the jeep. You took a step back, too curious to interrupt what Scott was doing.

“There you guys are!”

All three heads snapped towards Malia, who’s dark brown eyes were eyeing the jeep intensely. “You heard it too?” Scott asked, pulling his face away from the window of the jeep. “It’s coming from inside.”

“Break it.” Lydia ordered, stepping closer to the group, “The jeep’s abandoned anyway, nobody’s going to say anything. Break it.”

Scott hesitantly nodded at her insisting, guiding the three of you away before smashing the driver’s side window. The ringing sound that the two werewolves could only hear grew, making it loud enough for you and Lydia to hear as well. “Is that a radio?” You asked, stepping forward to peek inside the jeep to find a police scanner installed into the vehicle. The four of you swiftly shuffled into the jeep, eyes locked on the device that kept its consistent ringing noise.

Then suddenly, it stopped.

And honestly, it felt like your heart might’ve too.

“Why’d it stop?” asked Lydia.

“It doesn’t matter,” you sighed, reaching out for the glowing on/off switch to shut it down. From the passenger seat, you turned to look back at Scott, who held that same perplexed expression from outside the jeep. “What? Did you catch a scent?”

Both teen wolves nodded at this, their noses twitching while they inhaled deeply. You were soon met with Scott’s dark eyes, confusion swirling in them. “Yeah, uh..” He shook his head in disbelief, eyeing each person inside. “Mine. Lydia’s, Malia’s. Yours.”

“Especially yours.” Malia added, slouching in her seat with scrunched brows before asking, “But how? I’ve never been in this jeep before.”

“Neither have I.” Scott said, propping his elbows on the back of the two fronts seats. You turned to face Lydia, who’s lips were twitching into a small smile. “Yes, we have.” She said quietly, and you were quick to catch on. “We just don’t remember it.” You finished quickly, your eyes searching both Scott and Malia’s desperately.

“I thought we were done with that.” Malia deadpanned, glaring at Lydia for getting you riled up again. The three of them continued their quarrel while you let yourself grow distant, a faint ringing in your ear that grew louder instantaneously.

The grip he had on your face readjusted as he licked his lips nervously. "Remember... Remember that I've been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn't even realize until middle school." He chuckled humorlessly, swiping at the few stray tears that sprung from your eyes.

You shook your head in his hold, the faint memories of your blossoming friendship since diapers flashing before your eyes. "Stiles." You wailed, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth to silence your cries.

The boy's eyes flickered past you, his heart stopping at the sight of a Ghost Rider just outside your window. He released a steady breath, leaning into your face.

"And remember this."

“Y/N!” You heard Lydia shout, pulling you out of your trance-like state. You sniffled, glazed eyes looking to hers before letting them wander to the rest of the group’s concerned stares. “I’m sorry I, uh, was just thinking of something. I’m sorry.” Your words were rushed before you bowed your head down to avoid anymore prying eyes.

“We found an address..” Lydia said gently, almost as if she were to speak any louder, you would break. “It’s 129 Woodbine Lane.”

Exhaling slowly, you lifted your head up, a small sound of disbelief tumbling from your lips. “That’s the Sheriff’s house.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Girls, is this about Stiles again?” The Sheriff’s voice was stern as he looked between you and Lydia from across.

When you announced that the address was home to the Sheriff and Claudia, you and Lydia booked it to her car, rendering both Malia and Scott speechless. After being there for about fifteen minutes interrogating them about their apparently ‘stolen’ jeep, the two adults eventually caught on to your persistence. “Y/N,” Claudia called out to you, a soft, yet worried smile on her face. “Don’t you think it’s time to let this go? Talk to somebody about this?” She asked, shifting her attention onto Lydia as well. “Maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mothers about this..”

You stared at her blankly, worried that if you thought about nobody understanding what you and Lydia did in the slightest, that you’ll break. That you wouldn’t be able to put yourself back together this time.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Lydia said, collecting her things from the floor before she stood up from the lounge chair. The three of them conversed a bit longer, but it was all just background noise to you. You were too lost in your head to notice them make subtle glances towards you. Suddenly, you stood up, alarming both Claudia and the Sheriff. You could feel your hands shaking, so you held them, twiddling your thumbs rapidly. “Do you mind if I-” You choked out, resulting to just nodding your head in the direction of their restroom. Once granted permission, you rushed to the hallway, not caring that the three awaiting bodies could hear your pained cries. Your grip on your bag faltered, and you let it drop onto the floor. You stared at the wallpaper that Lydia had told you about peeling, and you found yourself gently rubbing the paper. Pressing your back to the very same wall, you slid down the wall with your head in your hands.

But what you didn’t know, was that the teenage boy with the unforgettable whiskey eyes was doing the very same thing.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

As you sat in the driver’s seat of the rusted blue jeep, you let out a wince while your stomach churned, unable to fathom the familiarity the vehicle brought you. You just couldn’t remember where it came from. You sat there in silence with Lydia, waiting for Scott and Malia to return from wherever they ran off to after hearing a faint roaring in the distance.

“We’re gonna bring him back, you know.” Lydia’s voice broke the silence, attempting to ease your visibly distraught state. Although it didn’t work, you appreciated the effort. “How are we going to do that when we’re the only two people who believe he’s even real?” You asked, your eyes begging for an answer from your best friend even though she was unable to give you one. Just when Lydia’s jaw dropped to speak, footsteps approached you both quickly. You looked over to find a huffing Scott, his right hand clutched around something as he stopped by your window. “Where’s Malia?” You asked, looking past Scott briefly to see if she would turn up, but didn’t. “The roar,” Scott panted, eyes squinting as he recalled the previous event. “It was Peter’s. Peter Hale’s. H-He got out from where the Ghost Riders are keeping people, and he gave me this.”

Before you could ask more questions, a set of keys were in front of your face, hanging off of Scott’s index finger. You eagerly snatched the set from him, looking over them while Lydia climbed into the back seat for Scott to sit in the passenger. Giving the two of them another glance, you slid the key into it’s ignition, a laugh falling from your lips when it was a perfect fit. Turning the key, you heard the engine begin to roar to life, making a smile appear on your lips. Not soon after, there was a loud clunking noise, before the engine died down. “God! Stupid thing..” You grumbled, turning the key again while pressing down on the gas.

“Don’t flood it.” Scott warned, making Lydia cock her head at him with raised brows. “Do you even know what that means?” She asked, chuckling as Scott looked at her with a pained face. While the two engulfed themselves into a small bickering match, you managed to start the car, a squeak of excitement coming from you as you watched the lights inside the car come to life.

“Hello?”

The voice was faint behind the static being from the police scanner, but that was all it took for your heart to skip a beat or two. “Guys..” You mumbled, voice going unheard by Scott and Lydia as they continued their argument. “You guys!” You shouted, eyes looking between the two of them when they silenced, huffing out a breath before gesturing to the active police scanner. “Listen.”

“Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?”

And just like your own, both the boy and girl’s eyes grew to the size of saucers. Scott barely hesitated, snatching up the mic and putting it to his lips. “Stiles?” He asked tentatively, like he was waiting to be wrong. When the name fell from Scott’s lips, your body went rigid. The possibility of Scott actually believing you now made your eyes well up with tears, a hand reaching up over your mouth. You watched as Lydia grabbed the mic and put it to her own lips, “Stiles, is that you?”

The silence between the three of you was agonizing, the only thing you could do was wait for the familiar voice to ring through again.

And then it did.

“Scott, Lydia, is that you?”

The gasp you let out was muffled behind your hand, the tears in your eyes trickling down your face while you stared at your two best friends in awe. This was real. Stiles was real, and he’s alive.

“Oh my god, Stiles.” Lydia wailed, a tearful smile jerking at her lips along with Scott. “We can hear you.” He confirmed, making a glance at you before looking back at the small wired mic.

“Oh my god, you know me? You-you remember me?” Stiles asked, his tone showing evident disbelief. “Okay, okay, um.. Where’s Y/N? Is she there?”

Your eyes fell from Scott’s to the handheld device, only to look back to him. He gave you an encouraging nod, giving you the mic and staring with Lydia as you held it to your lips, asking quietly, “Stiles, is this.. is this really you?”

From the other line, you heard a slow breath of relief come from the radio. “Yeah, listen to me.. Do you remember the last thing I said to you?”

Your mouth fell agape, looking to the mic as if it had all the answers, while Scott and Lydia stared, expecting one from you.

“Remember… Remember that I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn’t even realize until middle school.”

Your eyes closed briefly, the blurry memory growing clear as your face scrunched up in concentration. Then it hit you. Moments before Stiles was taken. His love for you. And the kiss. Putting your lips back up to the mic, you spoke breathlessly. “You said.. You said ‘remember I’ve been in love with you, since the beginning.’ and then-” your bottom lip was worried between your teeth, a small sob escaping you. “And then you kissed me.” The words came out weakly, tears rolling down your face just as much as the night he was taken, but that was the only thing you knew from the distant memory. Scott took the microphone from you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to talk in the state that you were in. “Where are you? We’re coming to find you.” Scott asked hurriedly, knowing that his best friend was out there was putting him on edge.

“No, no. You can’t. You won’t be able to find me.”

He sounded so defeated through the radio, and god, did it break you. You thought that him talking to the three of you might be doing more harm than good to you right now. What if you wouldn’t be able to get him out?

“Stiles, what’re you talking about? Just.. Just tell us where you are and we’ll come, we’ll come.” Scott pleaded into the mic, eyes filling to the brim with salty tears, same as yours. In the distance, you could hear loud rustling from Stiles’ end, making you involuntarily lean towards the mic. “Just, just remember this. Canaan, okay? Remember Canaan.” His voice sounded panicked, and the rustling only grew louder. Stiles was in danger. Ripping the device from the tan boy’s hands, you cried into the mic, “No wait, Stiles, don’t go! Stiles!”

You were too late.

He was gone.

But, you were determined to bring him back.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You looked between your pack in the dinning room of the McCall house, you felt as though you were stuck right at the beginning. Scott face was blotted with tears, his cheeks glistening underneath the light as he stared blankly ahead, repeatedly calling a disconnected phone number.

Your attempt to get Sheriff Stilinski on your side after hearing Stiles through the radio fell straight through, as he shot you, Scott, and Lydia down almost instantly. After looking through the underground tunnels, you managed to find a riff, but it was destroyed by the hellhound — who was being controlled by a supernatural Nazi from 1943. You could almost relate to how Stiles felt right now — uou were stuck, and you didn’t know what the next step was or if it was even worth it.

Lydia was the first one to break the fifteen minutes of silence. “Scott,” She sighed, placing her hand over the cellphone in the tan boy’s hand, slowly easing it down onto the table. “Your mom’s gone, but she’s still alive.”

“What do we do now?” asked Malia, her dark eyes looking to the three of you expectantly. She was never really one to follow rules or plans, but this was different — it was all you had left.

“We can’t hide from them.” You murmured, looking to your fingernails as you picked at them to avoid eye contact. “What about Lydia? The Ghost Rider was scared of her.” Malia pointed out, making you sigh and simply shake your head at her.

“No, it wasn’t fear. It was more like.. reverence.” Lydia said.

“It doesn’t matter!” You snapped, the weight in your heart only seeming to grow heavier with each breath you took. “The rift is gone. We’re the only ones left.”

Then it was silent.

Until it wasn’t.

The backdoor of the McCall house opened abruptly, creaking as Sheriff Stilinski stepped through. His light eyes looked to each of you while you stared back at him, confusion clear in the four of you.

“I have a son.”

And that was all it took for your hope to be restored.

Looking up at the older man with glossy eyes, your expression mimicked the three of your friends — hope and confusion.

“His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski. But we called him Stiles.” Noah’s eyes drifted to yours, an apologetic smile gracing his features before he cleared his throat. “I remember.. when Stiles was a little kid, he couldn’t say his first name. Not sure why, it pretty much rolls of the tongue. But, uh, the closest he could get, was ‘mischief.’” This time, the Sheriff’s eye’s drifted to Lydia, who was giving him a tight lipped smile to match with her green eyes.

The man pursed his lips, a dry chuckle rumbling from his chest as he looked to the four teenagers. “I remember when, uh.. Stiles first got his jeep. It belonged to his mother, she wanted him to have it. The first time he took it for a spin behind the wheel, he went straight into a ditch. I gave him his first roll of duck tape that day.” His lips curled into a smile as he thought back on the memory, and you couldn’t help but do the same because finally you could see it — you could see the end of the line. “We’re here tonight because my goofball son decided Scott and Y/N, two of his greatest friends in the world, into the woods to see a dead body.”

You blinked up at him, your jaw slacked while you tried to form a simple sentence in your head. “How.. How did you remember?” You asked, blown away at his ability to remember someone he so blatantly told you didn’t exist. Noah nodded towards Lydia, and you quickly whipped your head around with a watery grin on your face. “It started with Stiles’ jersey. Then I found the red string for his crime board. Finally, his whole room came back and all the memories.”

“Then the strangest thing happened.” The Sheriff scoffed, looking to Scott when his eyes furrowed curiously. “I thought I saw him.. Something opened, right in the middle of the room, just for a moment. Then it was gone.”

“A rift.” You mumbled, eyes growing in realization as you looked to the group. “I thought there was only one left? We saw it disappear.” Malia asked, referring to the portal that was now destroyed by Parrish — in his hellhound form. “You remembered Stiles, and that opened a new rift.” Lydia pieced together, pointing to Sheriff Stilinski who looked among you all with a lost look on his face.

Scott bowed his head, the ends of his lips twitching into a smile. “If the Sheriff can do it.. maybe we can too.” He proposed, looking to you with hopeful eyes. You grabbed ahold of his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and nodding to him. “The rift closed, but we can open it again.”

“How?” asked Malia.

“By remembering Stiles.” You said firmly, “we have to remember everything.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“How will we know when it’s working?”

Your question was muffled behind your fingers, your teeth gnawing on the nails and turning your skin soft. Lydia looked over her shoulder at you, eyes narrowed with pursed lips, and you immediately shut your mouth. You were in the Argent bunker, watching a locked Scott McCall travel through his own mind in some sort of cooling machine.

With Malia and Lydia on your side, you watched a Scott stood still with seeled eyes, waiting for further instructions from Lydia. “This isn’t working..” Lydia whined, her voice wobbling with panic as her eyes grew at the way Scott thrashed around in the machine. “You said he needs an emotional connection, right? Like what the Sheriff did?” Malia asked, stepping closer to Lydia who was pacing on the other end of the room. The strawberry blonde nodded, looking to the taller girl with glazed eyes. “He wasn’t just remembering someone, he was remembering his son. His family.”

“Whatcha thinkin’ about, Stilinski?” You asked, crawling your way between him and the McCall boy as you all laid on the floor of his cluttered bedroom. Both of the boys shifted about on Stiles’ floor, making room for you before cozying up again.

“I don’t know, I just.. I don’t know.” The whiskey eye boy sighed, his tongue darting over his lips as he stared at the ceiling. You looked over to him, brows raised in concern as he struggled to find the words. With your bottom lip worried between your teeth, you let your closest hand reach out for his, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance which he returned almost immediately.

“It’s just.. ever since my mom died, and my dad being in the station majority of the time,” He mumbled, exhaling shakily before sitting up from his position. You and Scott both mocked him, sitting up with crossed legs in a small circle to see each other. “You two are my best friends, you know? You’re all I have left. Besides my dad, but he doesn’t risk his life nearly as much as we do and-” He paused, his eyes filling with tears that caused your own to prick with them. Looking to Scott, you watched as a small teardrop rolled down his tan cheek.

“I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something happened to either one of you. You’re family.”

“Scott!” You called out to the boy, gently tapping on the glass window of the machine in attempt to catch his attention. “Listen, I remember something. During our junior year we were with Stiles, okay? And-and he was talking about how.. how after his mom died, we were all he had left.” Your eyes welled up with tears, blocking your vision. You sniffled, not caring if the tears shed or not.

“He said that he wouldn’t know what he would do with himself if he lost one of us, that we’re family. But he’s lost right now, Scott. He’s lost and we need to remember him, we need to remember our family and find him.”

Your words seemed to strike a cord with the alpha, his thrashing stopped and he was mumbling things underneath his breath. But it stopped, and as soon as it did there was a deep rumbling sound, causing you and the girls to jump and stare at the flashing light coming from the window. As soon as it appeared, it vanished, and was replaced with a loud beeping sound coming from the machine. You were quick to act, pulling Scott out of it. Malia rushed over with a blanket she found lounging around and guided him to sit as you glanced at him.

“It was working, why’d you pull me out?” Scott asked incredulously, eyes bulging as he looked between the you and Malia. “You were going to die in there.” You said simply, catching a glimpse of Lydia who was already staring at you.

“How do you get Scott to do that?” She asked, tone almost accusing, as if she were piecing together some sort of puzzle.

You blinked at her, eyebrows scrunched together as you thought of the now distant memory. “When, uh, when you and Malia were talking about family, it triggered a memory of Stiles.” You mumbled, but it was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “For the past few weeks, I would get these headaches.. and whenever the headaches came, so did the memories of Stiles. As soon as I remember though, it gets blurry — I forget. But I know they’re from him.”

You never looked up from your locked gaze on the floor, but when you did, you were met with three stunned stares.

“It’s you..” Lydia said quietly, her heels clacking faintly on the concrete floor as she made her way towards you. She grabbed ahold of your wrists, her sea foam green eyes boring into your own. “It’s all about connection, and you’ve had one with Stiles since the Ghost Riders took him.”

“It’s true.” Scott agreed, his teeth chattering slightly while he cuddled into the blanket around his shoulders. “When I was remembering him, I was also remembering the two of you together. I would also tease him for making it so obvious,” he chuckled, staring off distantly before he locked eyes with you. “Nobody had a connection like you two.”

You were speechless, staring between the three of your best friends with soaked cheeks. “Okay.. okay, so, what do we do?”

Just as you spoke the words of agreement, smiles appeared on their faces, which only made you mirror them. “We have to do it the old fashioned way.” Lydia stated, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and guiding you to an empty stool propped up next to the metal table. “We’re going to have to actually hypnotize you.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

You were in a classroom. A single desk occupied by you whilst you sat in front of a television, a remote settled on the wooden desk by your right hand. As you looked around cautiously, a ghost of a smile appeared, genuinely excited about the fact that you were actually hypnotized.

“Weird..” You whispered, your eyes darting around the empty classroom and to the television that displayed a static channel.

“Y/N? Are you in the classroom? Do you see the TV and remote?” Lydia’s voice echoed throughout the room, causing you to jump slightly in your seat. Your focus drifted to the remote, picking it up and inspecting it. “Yeah.. Yeah, I’m here.”

“Good. Now, the remote gives you access to all of your memories. Find the memories of Stiles.” Lydia’s voice directed, and your thumb hovered over the power button, thinking of the missing boy before clicking play.

You heard the faint patter of footsteps approach you, it was a boy about your age, six years old. He had freckles scattered across his face, a shaved head and a sheepish smile.

“Hi. I-I’m Mi..Mie-Mieczy...” You watched as the boy sighed, his face heating up with embarrassment. When he looked back up to meet your eyes, you offered him a friendly smile, holding your hand out for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Y/N.. your name is Stiles? Your dad said so!” You asked, beaming happily when the boy, Stiles’, face visibly perked up at the fact that you knew his name. A small giggle escaped your lips as he shook your hand enthusiastically.

As you conversed animatedly with the younger version of Stiles, you could hear Sheriff Stilinski speak to your mother faintly in the background as they watched the two of you together. “Something tells me they’re gonna get along just fine.”

You gasped, no longer reliving the memory of the young version of yourself and Stiles. Now back in the empty classroom in front of the TV, you looked between it and the remote in your hand, a laugh of disbelief erupting from you and echoing throughout the room.

“Stiles..” You whispered, longing evident in your tone. In your trance, the three of your friends watched you intently as you whispered his name, making the flame of the candle flicker lightly. Lydia then cleared her throat, taking the lead once again. “Y/N, look for another memory of Stiles.”

You did as you were told, flickering through the multiple channels the television had to offer.

“You’re too pretty to be crying, Y/N.”

“No! You can’t go, it’s too dangerous!”

“Sometimes the person we’re looking for isn’t in the search at all. Maybe.. maybe they’re just right in front of us.”

Stiles’ voice echoed loudly around the room as you clicked through every memory, each one being passed by because none of them fit — none of them felt like what you were looking for. You landed on a channel, pausing briefly your rushed clicking and letting it play.

“I’m with you, ‘til the end of the line.”

It was Stiles’ voice again. No memory being played, just his voice, but you could somehow remember the exact moment of the conversation took place. “Is that a Marvel reference, you Star Wars nerd?” You heard your voice this time, echoing just like Stiles’ had been. A smile grew on your lips as the memory began to restore itself in your mind. “Yeah! But, you’re so into that stuff so.. it could be our thing! What do you think?”

“I think..” You found yourself whispering the same response you said in the memory, “I think it’s perfect. I’m with you ‘til the end of the line, Sti.” You murmured in your trance, confusing the three teenagers once again. “Y/N.” Lydia’s voice called out to you again, “Find the memory that you and Stiles made a connection.”

You furrowed your brows, looking over your shoulder suddenly. There was a door, but it wasn’t there before. Setting the remote down, you picked yourself up from the wooden desk and made your way to the door, slowly pulling it open. You found yourself in the Sheriff’s house once again, but you weren’t alone. You were in a memory. This memory was different though, and you knew it as you made your way to where the memory was being played out. You always relived them, never watched them — but this one, you were exactly that.

You watched your eleven year old self sit down next to a boy around the same age, who you knew was Stiles, and place a hand over his. He had tears in his eyes, and his face was vacant of emotion. You watched as your younger self looked at him with sorrow eyes, and your heart broke when you realized what memory was being played.

“This was the night his mom died..” You mumbled, tears clouding your vision and you quickly wiped them to watch the memory continue being played out. No words were being said between your younger selves, but none were needed to be. You observed Stiles placing his head in your lap, tears rolling down his face at a quicker pace as his expression finally broke. He released heartbroken sobs as your fingers ran through his hair, your younger self staring ahead. If you didn’t know that this was a memory, you would’ve thought she were staring right at you.

It didn’t take you long to figure out why this memory was being played, and your jaw slacked at the realization. “That’s when it happened.” You whispered in shock, finding yourself slowly being pulled from the trance.

“That’s when what happened?” You heard Scott’s faint voice ask. The vision of three of your best friends were blurry as you were snapping back to reality, and they all were looking at you expectantly as you cried.

“The night his mom died, when I was there.. H-He was crying with his head in my lap. That’s when it all changed.” You spoke while staring off at the candle, who’s flame was now burnt out. “I-I didn’t realize it until now, but that... that was the night we fell in love.”

At this point the tears trailing down your face were relentless, only growing worse when you painfully gasped. “I was there! I was there the night he was taken.” You sobbed, hands covering your mouth while Scott, Lydia, and Malia’s faces contorted with shock. “When the Ghost Riders took him, I was there.”

As you stood up from the stool, the ground shook beneath your feet, a bright, zapping light took over the room before disappearing behind the door. You glanced back to the three teenagers behind you, taking a step forward and carefully opening the door, revealing a blinding white light at the end of the tunnel.

Stiles turned his body to face yours, using both hands to grab onto yours with need. “Y/N, I’m going to be erased, okay? Just like Alex. You’re gonna forget me.”

“No. No, I won’t! I won’t. I won’t.” You promised, your sobs escaping at every chance they could.

“You will.” He whispered calmly, tears rolling down his own freckled cheeks as he gave you a small smile. “Remember… Remember that I’ve been in love with you since the beginning of our friendship, and that I didn’t even realize until middle school.”

“I never told him,” Your voice croaked at you spoke aloud, walking closer to the white light. “I never told him how I felt before they took him. That I love him. I never said it back!” You shouted, the feeling of Scott grabbing ahold of your arm to keep you from walking towards the light making itself present.

Then suddenly.. there was no need to walk towards the light.

Because there was a figure standing in front of it.

You let out a cheerful laugh, tears bunching at the creases by your eyes as you stared at the familiar shadowy figure, gasping out it’s name.

“Stiles.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Where is he?” You whimpered, feeling your knees buckle at the thought of failing Stiles yet again. Gripping onto the stool, you looked to Lydia and Malia, who were staring at you sympathetically. “We didn’t see anyone.” Lydia spoke gently in attempt to keep your emotions from spilling.

Scott had left you with both Malia and Lydia to keep trying to bring Stiles back and to be here just in case he comes here looking for any of you.

“I saw him. It was working, I know it.” You mumbled, mostly to yourself, but with Malia’s supernatural hearing ability, she heard you loud and clear. You stared at her blankly as she hopped up to her feet, pulling open the door and beginning to step out. “Um, where are you going?” Lydia asked from where she was next to you.

“To go find Stiles,” Malia stated as if it were obvious. “Listen, Stiles isn’t coming here. If he were, he would’ve, but he hasn’t, so he’s not.”

You blinked at her, deciding to disregard her last sentence before standing up yourself. “You believe me?” You asked her, and when she silently nodded her head, you were quickly on her side. “Okay well,” You trailed off, turning to Lydia who was still sitting on the stool. “Stiles is out there, I can feel it. So please, Lyd, help us bring him home.”

You watched as the strawberry blonde pursed her lips, lifting herself off of her own stool before strutting over to you. “Let’s go find him.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“Y/N! What are you doing here?” You heard Scott yell from the end of the hallway of Beacon Hills High. Stumbling over the train tracks that were magically built into the floor, you grunted as you fell into his chest. “I’m looking for Stiles.” You answered with a shrug of your shoulders, watching Scott’s eyes grow with an emotion you really didn’t have time to decipher. “I’m going to places he’s most likely to show up while Lydia and Malia look at where the other train track lead, but his jeep’s gone.. So I won’t be able to look anywhere else but here on foot.”

Scott eyes darted around as his mouth opened and closed, trying to find something to say. “I, uh, took it? Yeah, Liam needed me so I hotwired the jeep and drove to the hospital.” He explained, a sheepish smile on his lips. You nodded slowly at his explanation, not really seeing all the pieces fitting together. “Okay.. so where is it now?”

“What? Oh! It’s still at the hospital. I, uh.. ran.. here.”

You rolled your eyes at his painfully awkward replies, pulling away from him and beginning your journey down the hallway. “Well, I’m going to the lockerooms.” You announced, peering back at Scott who was now conversing with Lydia, who appeared out of absolutely nowhere. “Take Lydia with you! There are Ghost Riders everywhere.” Scott shouted, giving Lydia a shove before dashing off into the other direction.

“He seems a little.. off.” You said to Lydia, chuckling softly. The two of you walked side by side through the eerily silent school, occasionally checking over your shoulders in case you needed to defend yourself. “Yeah, but that’s Scott McCall for you.” She laughed nervously which you furrowed your brows at.

“You know, you’re acting just like hi— Lydia, look out!”

Your words quickly caught her, and the Ghost Rider’s attention. “Cover your ears.” Lydia warned, her voice low but stern and you quickly did as you were told, squeezing your hands to your ears as Lydia released one of her banshee shrieks, sending the Ghost Rider flying into the set of lockers. It was silent, and you slowly pulled your hands away from your ears, stepping closer to Lydia to see the damage done.

But when you did, you felt your heart stop. All because were staring straight into a pair of whiskey eyes, and while you did, you felt all the memories with those eyes come rushing back.

“Lydia..” You heard Stiles’ voice say with relief, a smile appearing on his lips at the sight of his best friend. Deciding to come into better view, you shuffled to the side of Lydia, and the scuffling of your feet surely brought attention from the two other people in the room. “Y/N..” He mumbled, his voice holding a whole new different emotion as his hazel eyes filled with tears. In the background you could hear the clacking of Lydia’s heels fade away, giving you two your moment.

You didn’t know what to think as you slowly stepped towards the boy, almost as if you were to rush towards him any quicker, he’d disappear. A face you haven’t seen in months was finally in view, and the gaps in your memory were finally being filled by the boy you loved — it all made sense again. It was that moment where all the tears, all the fighting, all the heartache- it felt worth it. It felt like the world finally made sense again.

“Is this real?” You croaked, a weak sob eliciting from you when your hands reached out to cup his cheeks, all while staring into frantically into his eyes. The brunette quickly leaned into your touch, his tears rolling down his cheeks and onto your hands as he greedily soaked up the feeling of you touching him — deprived of it for what felt like an eternity. “It’s real, I’m here. I’m here, I’m real.” He repeated to you, eyes fluttering shut before he held the back of your head to his chest, nuzzling the tip of nose into your hair.

The moment, however, didn’t last long before you were thrashing in his hold. “I never said anything back,” You wailed, bottom lip quivering as you recalled the last memory you had of him. “You told me you loved me, and I never said it back. I never told you how I felt.” You panicked. You felt the heat rush to your neck and cheeks as Stiles gripped onto your face as a way to snap you back. Fortunately, it worked, and you were staring at him wide eyed while he simply looked at you with his same beautiful, lopsided smile.

“You didn’t have to.”

Was all he said before his lips were slanted on yours, involving you in a kiss that was completely different the first one the two of you shared. The first kiss, it was frantic, rushed. Stiles kissed you because at the time, it was the last time he would ever see you again. This kiss, however, was slow and it said everything that words couldn’t. You felt your breath hitch, your body melting into his as you kissed him back with love and longing — two emotions that overwhelmed your body more than any other. You felt the grip he had on your face tighten, pulling you even closer to his body as he pushed as much passion as he could into the kiss. Finding yourself holding onto his flannel overshirt, you couldn’t help but shuffle your feet closer to close any existing space.

He was the first to pull away, his forehead pressed to yours once more while he inhaled deeply to catch his breath with you doing the same. Your eyes were open, scanning over his face and looking over each freckle and beauty mark that littered his face gracefully, bringing a small smile to your lips.

And as the boy in front of you slowly peeled his eyelids open, revealing the beautiful whiskey color you found yourself in love with, you knew this was it.

He was back in your arms again, more real than ever. Not a pounding headache of a memory. Not a faint dream that had you gasping for breath in the middle of the night. Not a figment of your imagination. He was real and this was it.

This was the end of the line.

↞ mack’s fic requests! ↠

requests are [ open ]

ship requests are on hold

|| request here! ||

WHO DO I WRITE FOR?

dylan o’brien and his following characters:

stiles stilinski + void!stiles

dave hodgman

stuart twombly

thomas (tmr)

mitch rapp

sam taylor

⠀

tom holland and his following characters:

peter parker / spider-man

⠀

this list will extend soon because i will be expanding to other fandoms in the near future!

HEADS UP!

if it’s a vague request, it might take longer to do. if i don’t feel inspired when looking at the prompt or whatever, i won’t write it out until i have an idea. this is only because i want it to be as enjoyable as possible for you + other readers!

NO SMUT WILL BE WRITTEN FOR PETER PARKER!!

Late Nights || Dave Hodgman

A/N: I was debating on whether I should make this a dylan or dave fic.. but I decided on dave bc this is too wholesome to not go to him.

word count: 1,438

WARNINGS: mentions of underage drinking, fluff.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀* * *

“The room’s spinning..” You whimpered, gripping onto whoever was keeping you steady at the moment. “Oh, god, why is the room spinning?”

The person’s grip on your waist tightened while a chuckle rumbled from their chest, holding you close to them as they shuffled around. “Nothing’s spinning, Y/N, we’re outside. Now hold still, I’m trying to get my keys.” The voice spoke with amusement, and you slowly realized that it was Dave accompanying you. Letting out a low groan, you shifted closer to his side to keep yourself up, your eyes squeezing shut to block out the brightness of the porch lights.

There was a small jingling of keys and a few more sounds before you heard the front door open — of who’s house? you have yet to know. Every step you took made your stomach churn, a pout of discomfort on your lips when you peeled your eyes open to meet your staircase. There were so many. So, so many.

You looked to Dave with pleading eyes, watching as the boy sighed before wrapping his arms under your legs and lifting you up and to his chest. As he slowly stepped up each stair, you leaned your head onto his shoulder with a content sigh. You could feel his body shiver when you nuzzled your nose to his neck — he smelled of sandalwood and vanilla.

“You smell good,” You mumbled drunkenly, not caring enough to notice the growing red glow to Dave’s cheeks as he gently laid you down on your bed. “Uh, thank you,” He stammered, hands fumbling around slightly when slipping your heels off your feet. “Do you have anything to wipe your makeup off?”

You nodded lazily, hand raising up and flicking over in the direction of your vanity with a quiet hum. Dropping your hand back down on the bed, you snuggled your face into your pillow as Dave quickly made his way over to your vanity. His face contorted with confusion while looking over the multiple skin products sprawled out on the table top, letting out a small ‘ah’ when he found a packet of makeup wipes.

“I’ll get you some water in a sec.” He mumbled, kneeling down beside you and the bed on the floor. “Can you sit up?” He asked, and you groaned while rolling onto your back. It was the best you could give him at the moment in your drunken state. A small laugh left the boy’s lips as he pulled out a makeup wipe, gently rubbing at the now oily product.

“You got absolutely hammered tonight, you know. Had to pull you off of Brendan Meltzer.” You heard Dave scoff, unable to see him pull a face of disgust, shaking his head at the image as you hummed in response. Dave could clearly tell that you wouldn’t be able to recall a single detail from your late night, so he decided it would be best not to drill you for your decision of trying to make out with the football player.

Goosebumps rose on your skin at the feeling of the cool wipe brushing on your face, and along your eyelids. Your hand reached out and grabbed Dave’s wrist, pausing him from cleaning the rest of your makeup before you peeled your eyes open. “You’re a good guy, Dave.” You whispered, looking into his warm whiskey eyes. He looked down at you with a ghost of a smile before shaking his head and opening his mouth to deny, but you interrupted him by adding, “I mean, how many guys do you know would take a girl home and not sleep with her, but make sure she’s cleaned up and taken care of?”

This time you did notice the way his cheeks and neck began to glow with a faint red color, even with the dim lighting of your bedroom. Dave exhaled deeply, looking down at your hand which was no longer on his wrist, but playing with his fingers, before gazing back into your eyes. “You’re not just some girl, Y/N. You’re my best friend, and I’m always gonna be here to make sure you’re safe.” The brunette said sweetly, making tears well up in your eyes. When he noticed this, his brown eyes grew with panic, mouth gaped open as you released small weeping sounds.

Before he could try and ask what was wrong, you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into his shoulder. “I-I love you s-so much, Dave!” You blubbered in between your sobs, tightening your grip on the boy who had tentatively slipped his arms around your waist to return your death grip of a hug. Dave laughed slightly at your sudden burst of drunken affection, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while rubbing circles on your back. “I love you too, bub,” He swallowed thickly, eyes screwing shut to accompany his clenched jaw as he whispered, quietly, “More than you know.”

He held you close for as long as you let him, rubbing comforting circles on your back while mumbling gentle words into your ear, unaware to the fact that he was essentially rocking you to sleep. When you tiredly pulled away, you stared at the brunette with droopy eyes while cupping his cheek, leaving him to stare at you curiously. “Any girl would be lucky to have you, Davie.” You mumbled, sounding more sober than before, and leaving Dave bewildered.

Feeling his throat grow dry, his eyes darted from from the hand on his cheek and the close proximity of your face to his. The brunette was almost certain that you could hear his heart pounding madly beneath his chest while you continued to brush the pad of your thumb along his cheek. Dave wet his lips slowly, his eyes furrowing as he debated with himself on asking his question. He knew he shouldn’t ask with the state that you were in, but before he could stop himself, the words tumbled from his mouth as he asked, “E-Even you?”

It was silent for a few moments, and you could feel Dave’s body stiffen underneath you and his fingers anxiously twitching on your waist as he awaited his answer. You nodded slowly, feeling as though your body was about to shut down with exhaustion at any minute. “Mhm.. even me.” You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut and let your forehead fall onto Dave’s with a gentle ‘thump’. Had you not been so tired, you would’ve aimed for his shoulder.

His breath hitched in his throat, eyes bulging at the feeling of your short exhales warming his lips. He spluttered, trying to form words, but ultimately failing due to the fact that his lips were a few mere inches away from yours. “Let’s, um.. Let’s get you to bed.” He suggested, clearing his throat quickly after his voice cracked due to his nerves. He pulled back your covers as you slowly untangled yourself from him, laying your head on your pillow and curling into yourself.

You felt Dave drape the covers over you, which you immediately snuggled into and let yourself fade into your slumber. Your ears perked at the faint thuds of footsteps, which you could only assume were Dave’s, and the sound of running water from your bathroom. The footsteps grew closer to you, and you struggled to open your eyes once more. Silently watching your best friend place a few tablets and a glass of water on your nightstand, you held onto his wrist once he put the glass down.

“Thank you,” You blinked up at him, “for everything.” You whispered, watching as his freckled face looked down at you adoringly with soft smile gracing his features. Carefully pulling his hand from your grip, Dave brushed a few stray hairs from your forehead before gently placing his lips there. You closed your eyes, the feeling of his lips on your skin bringing warmth to your face. When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed, breathing now at a steady rhythm. You had fallen asleep to Dave’s kiss.

You were unable to see the longing look in his eyes that night. The twitching of his fingers that were so eager to hold you again, but never let you go. Nor were you able to hear the bittersweet tone of his voice when he mumbled, “I’ll be here for you forever, and a day.”

And as much as he wanted to tell you the morning after, he knew that he would have to resort to saying it was another one of those late nights. 

↞ roscoe-dream’s masterlist ↠

this is mainly a dylan o’brien writing blog, but hopefully i’ll start writing for a few more fandoms soon! i just started writing for another fandom, so i’m updating my masterlist!

also if you’re looking to make a request for any of these people/characters, i have a tab dedicated for you to do so!

⠀

↱ masterlist for DYLAN O’BRIEN + CHARACTERS

characters include: stiles stilinski, void!stiles, stuart twombly, dave hodgman, thomas, mitch rapp, and sam taylor.

⠀

↱ masterlist for TOM HOLLAND + CHARACTERS

characters include: peter parker.

⠀

⠀

extra information

i don’t think i will be writing peter parker smut, that idea might change if there’s something i can imagine, but i highly doubt it.

the fics that contain smut have been labeled in their summaries, and a further description of what the story has in it is listed in the warnings :)

hopefully this master list grows longer as i begin to venture off into other fandoms! i actually want to start writing for mgg and all of his characters in the near future.

Fuck it

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

"Stiles, shut up the fuck up," I whispered, trying my hardest to contain my laughter.

Stiles and I were in literature class, sitting next to each other, which normally would be a good, effective thing. But, however, for some reason, he wouldn't stop putting his cold hands under my shirt me.

He reached over towards me for the fourth time in this class, trying to stick his hands under my sweater. However, I slapped his hand away before he could reach my stomach, causing a loud noise to fill up the classroom. "L/n, Stilinski, care to explain what's going on back there?" Our teacher asked, giving us his best disappointed face, but we knew that he loves us way too much to actually be mad at us.

"No, sir," I said in a polite tone, but I was flipping Stiles off under the table.

"Okay, well, back to what I was saying-" the teacher continued, but I tuned him out after the first couple of words.

I was scribbling down random shapes on my paper when I felt Stiles'  cold hands reach under my sweater, pressing against my stomach. "Holy fuck!" I screamed, a little too loudly.

"Okay, that's it. Out of my class right now!" The teacher yelled. This time, he wasn't joking around.

We awkwardly gathered our things, before exiting the class, but as soon as the door shut, we both broke down laughing. "As unfortunate as the situation was, you have to admit; it was pretty funny." He said. 

 "Fuck you, dipshit," I said, shoving my hip into Stiles'.

"You love me," he said, flicking my forehead.

We were walking down the hallways until we decided to take a backtrack and just go on the roof instead of the principal's office. And since Literature was the last class of the day, it didn't really matter that much is we dipped. 

We were sitting down on the edge of the building, talking about the most randomest things when Stiles cut me off. "Hey n/n, can I ask you something?" he asked, looking down as he nervously fidgeting with his rings.

"Yeah, of course,"

"Well, I ju–I just wanted to–fuck it." He said, grabbing onto my face, pulling me into a kiss.

Once we broke apart, his eyes anxiously looked at mine, hoping I shared the same feelings as him, but after I didn't respond, he scrunched his face up. "Y/n, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking–"

I cut him off by pressing my lips back to his, except this time when he went to pull away from me, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him in place. After a while I pulled away, sending him a smile. "I like you," I said, red tinting my cheeks.

"I like you too," he responded, going to kiss me for the third time, but got cut off by the school bell.

"Guess that's our cue," he said, getting off the ledge, and helping me to get off as well.

"Bye Stiles," I said, kissing his cheek, before walking out the door.

I love you

Dylan O'brien x fem!Reader

I leaned the side of my head against Dylan’s arm as I watched him type on his keyboard. I was bored, to say the least, but as of right now, it didn't really matter to me. I was content with just being in the presence of my boyfriend.

I looked up, admiring his features, as I smiled, happy with the fact that he was indeed mine and only mine. "Are you bored?" Dylan asked, looking down at me with a smile on his face.

I shook my head, snuggling up more into his arm, causing him to laugh, "I'm almost done," he whispered into my ear, before placing a kiss on my forehead.

I closed my eyes, letting myself drown in his aroma, as I slowly started to drift asleep.

***

I woke up in Dylan's bed, letting out a groan as I sat up. I looked over at his clock to see that I had been asleep for more than an hour. I let out a shiver as I pulled his covers off my body, now realizing just how cold it was in his room. I made my way over towards Dylan's wardrobe, grabbing the first sweater I could find, putting it on as I went to go look for him.

I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to see him sitting down on the couch, remote in his hand as he clicked through channel to channel, in the search to find something interesting. "Hey babe," he said, patting down a spot next to him, not taking his eyes off the television.

"Hey love," I replied, making my way over towards him, taking a seat on his lap.

I buried the side of my head against his chest as I felt his free hand wrap around me. "What are you watching?" I asked, looking up at him.

He let out a sigh before turning the television off. "Nothing, there's nothing good on," he said, now directing his full attention to me.

I acknowledged him by nodding my head before wrapping my arms and legs around him, wanting to feel his body as close to mine as possible.

We stayed in that position for a while, the both of us soaking in the soothing feeling of each other's embrace, content with the monotonous, yet oddly comforting silence. "I love you," I said, breaking the silence.

"I love you too," he said back, placing a small kiss on my cheek.

We stayed in that position for a while longer. We had our eyes closed and a wide smile plastered on our faces. As every now and then, one of us would slowly inch closer to the other, trying to not only be able to feel but to be able to absorb the warmth generated between the both of our bodies.

Ignored ignorance

Merry Christmas!!

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Stiles' and I had gotten out of an adequately heated argument a couple of hours ago. He was infuriated with me because he thought that I was flirting with another man when I wasn't. So I've been ignoring him ever since. Now I'm not mad at him because he wrongfully accused of something that I didn't do, and would never do. But, I'm mad because he screamed at me nonstop for an hour before talking it out with me first.

It was currently midnight, and I was in the guest bedroom because I didn't want to be anywhere near him. I was on my phone texting Lydia when I heared a faint knock on the door. Knowing it's Stiles, I put my phone down, pretending like I'm sleeping. "Y/n?" I hear him whisper, trying to quietly open the door but failing miserably.

"Y/n, I know you're awake."

I just ignore him, trying to pretend like he isn't in the room. A couple of minutes go by and I'm just about to drift off to sleep when I feel the bed dip and an arm loosely wrapped around my waist. He put his mouth against my ear and whispers, "I'm so sorry, my love. Please come back to bed." His apology was so quiet I could just barely hear what he said.

I still don't say anything. I always end up caving in but I don't want to this time. He can't yell at me like that and expect me to forgive him so easily. "Y/n, I know you're awake. Baby please, I can't sleep without you beside me." He whines, but I still ignore him.

I feel him tighten his arm against my waist, pulling me into his chest and nuzzling his face into my hair, pressing light kisses all over my head. "I need you." And with just those three words, everything he did was completely forgotten.

My flannel

Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

I awoke to an involuntary shiver coursing through my body. Instinctively, I stretched my arm out in search of my boyfriend, Stiles, but he wasn't there. Emitting a disheartened groan, I shifted my focus towards Stiles' side of the bed, only to discover the window agape, permitting the morning sun to cascade within, its brilliance so intense it could potentially blind those who dared to gaze in its direction. Flipping on my back, I rubbed away the remnants of sleep from my eyes before lifting the sheets away from my nearly exposed form. The moment that the fabric was off my body, the wintry breeze made its presence known, caressing my bare arms and legs. I got out of bed, stumbling over towards the window, almost falling down multiple times, but eventually managing to close and lock it.

I looked around the room, seeing my clothes scattered about. Sighing, I made my way to the open closet, rummaging through Stiles' collection of flannels and jackets until I found the one I wanted to wear. I pulled a multi-colored flannel out of his closet, putting it over my shoulders, and buttoning up all the buttons before descending out of his room, making my way down the stairs and into his kitchen.

Immediately upon entering the room, I saw Stiles sitting at the island table, scrolling through his phone. Sneaking up behind him, I wrapped my arms loosely around his neck, before placing multiple kisses from his jaw to his cheek "Morning," he mumbled, leaning back into my arms.

"Hey Sti," I murmured into his neck.

After a few minutes of staying in that position, I reluctantly pulled away, only to perch myself upon his lap moments later. Settling into a crisscrossed posture, I leaned back into his chest. "Am I just a chair to you?" He teased, a laugh accompanying his joke.

"Yes, and my own personal footrest," I retorted, offering a bratty smile before quickly turning away.

"Ouch, I feel so used." He faux- pouted, before dramatically placing a hand over his heart as if it was wounded.

Glancing back at him, I noticed his gaze fixed upon me. However, he wasn't looking at my face; he was looking at what I was wearing. He bit his lip before speaking up. "Is this mine?" He lightly pinched a portion of the fabric, tugging it lightly.

"No, it's mine," I asserted, looking down at my hands.

"Are you sure? Because I'm pretty sure that belongs to me," he said, trying to bite back a laugh.

My eyes widened at the thought of being caught, as my protectiveness over the flannel intensified. "My shirt," I declared, arms crossed defensively as I turned my head to the side, a pout on my face, as I hoped that Stiles wouldn't make me give his flannel back.

Stiles lifted his cup of coffee to his lips, all while looking me dead in the eyes. "What does that say?" He asked, pointing to his name that was written on the the tag.

"Fine, it's yours," I said, sighing in defeat.

"I like how it looks on you," he pressed a light kiss to my temple, quietly laughing at the way my eyes lit up.

"Does that mean I can keep it?" I asked, offering the widest smile I could muster.

"Absolutely not. But you can wear it whenever you want." He said, his hands settling on my thighs, as he rubbed his hands up and down.

"I'll take it!" I said, grabbing his coffee and drinking out of it before making a face of disgust.

"Ew, what did you put in this?" I questioned, frowning as he laughed at me.

"I didn't put anything in it, it's just coffee," he explained, pointing to the dark liquid in the cup.

"This is disgusting," I said, pouting even more as his laughter persisted.