#I can NOT stop thinking about the first one ever since I saw it
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melminli · 9 hours ago
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Love To Dream
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summary - there was this one girl that thanos really wanted, though, she didn't really want to have anything to do with him. unfortunately, that made him want her even more.
pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader
word count: 1.5k
contains: modern au, mention of drugs, enemies to lovers vibes ig, crack, yearning
a/n: i don't even know what this is tbh but I felt like we all deserved some laughs ;)
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Life was good - life was really fucking good, Thanos thought to himself as he winked charmingly at a group of hot girls. They had been looking in his direction for a while now while giggling, clearly interested in him. He continued to watch them as he sipped his drink, the club music pumping through his veins like adrenaline. Thanos's eyes darkened as the girls continued to cast lustful glances in his direction - he knew he could easily get more than one of them into bed tonight and why wouldn't he? It hadn't been long since his last performance on stage, reminding everyone present once again of his legendary status in this club.
However, his attention was focused somewhere entirely else after the most breathtaking person ever decided to walk past him. The pick-up lines he had been thinking of for the group, vanished from his mind after this angel showed up in front of him since the other girls could barely compare. The whole thing looked like something out of a scene from a Kdrama because time seemed to pass in slow motion and your hair was swinging in the air like that of a princess - which would have been the perfect time for some product placement because it just looked so damn soft.
Thanos had his mouth wide open in shock and put a hand over his heart to check if it was still beating while his eyes never left your figure. You - who was leaning prettily against the bar right next to him as you ordered something from the bartender.
“Hey.” he finally recovered from the moment and casually moved towards you. “I'd introduce myself, but I assume you already know me.” he talked to you with his flirty face as soon as you looked up at him.
You smiled shyly. “Yeah, I watched your performance,” you answered him and seemed quite grateful that he was speaking to you right now. “You were pretty good.” you giggled slightly as you complimented him.
“Yeah, that's just how I am.” he sighed as he looked around the room as if it was a burden for him to have to live with all the recognition. His eyes met yours again and he tried to impress you by unpacking a few bars while emphasizing them with the movements of his hands. “Girl, I know you and I are meant to be because after I looked at your pretty face everything stopped being. If only you saw what I can see, you'll understand why I want you so desperately.” he rapped to you, stealing the last line from some One Direction song, but you didn't need to know that.
You shyly put your hands in front of your face to hide your smile. “Oh my god, that was so incredibly sexy, I'm so horny for you right now.” the words came out of your mouth and made Thanos screw up his face weirdly for a second.
Because first of all, those vulgar words didn't match your innocent demeanor in the slightest - and secondly, you said exactly what Thanos had imagined you would say - it was actually a bit creepy since you literally said it word for word. Thanos hardly thought that he could foresee the future all of a sudden or that you could maybe read minds, though he decided to ignore the whole thing as soon as you started touching his chest softly with your hands. He wanted you so bad.
“You don't even know what you're doing to me right now,” he whispered to you while you felt him so sensually and he was about to kiss you, hadn't you stopped his lips with your hand as you laughed into his face. “I think you should wake up now. Otherwise, the pink elephant will keep handing out balloons to people.” You told him, pointing behind him to where the bar was supposed to be.
“Hah?” he asked you confused and turned around while continuing to hold you in his arms, but all he saw were a few dogs breakdancing - and that was nothing out of the ordinary. He continued to look at the scene with a grin, even though some inner voice inside him was stressing out about kissing you immediately as if he was running out of time. He finally turned back to you and was about to continue when he suddenly heard a man speak. “You really should wake up man.” Nam-gyu's voice told him and Thanos only caught himself almost kissing him after he took a closer look. He just pushed him away from him in disgust and then -
Thanos woke up from his sleep, bathed in sweat, when he saw your face in his field of vision. “Finally, you're sleeping like a dead man. There's some guy at the door who wants to talk to you,” you told him as he sat up tiredly while slowly recovering from his strange dream.
That's right. You weren't just some hot girl he met at the club, you were his fucking roommate. Thanos discreetly pushed more blanket over his lap as he tried to shoo you away from his room with a wave of his hand. “Yeah, yeah - I'll be right there, just - give me a moment,” he said without looking you in the face.
You just sighed slightly and complied with his request, though not without letting him know how unhappy you were. “I told you to stop giving our address to these dealers. I don't like it when they show up here,” you grumbled under your breath before dashing out and closing the door behind you.
After that, Thanos let out a very heavy sigh and stroked his face aggressively. “Now she's showing up in my dreams, too? Fucking great.” he grumbled to himself and got up from the bed to put on some decent clothes. His eyes met his own reflection as he pulled a shirt over his head. “Get a grip man, what's wrong with you?” he asked himself as he grimaced in annoyance. “You're Thanos the destroyer, not some kind of -”
“Stop taking so long and come here already!” your voice suddenly shouted, coming through his door slightly muffled.
He looked even more annoyed at that and made his way to the living room while shouting back at you. “I'm fucking on it, alright!” and it only took a few loud steps from him to your front door for him to yank it open to fix the damn problem. He looked at his friend, completely bothered by his presence. “What do you want?” he asked him and was kinda glad that it at least wasn't Nam-gyu because he just really didn't want to see his face at the moment and probably for a little while.
“Hello, to you, too.” the man in front of him greeted him, already used to his weird mood swings. “I just wanted to do you a favor by bringing you some of the pills you wanted because last time you almost beat me up when I didn't have them with me,” he explained, holding the bag, which Thanos grabbed instantly before inspecting it more closely. “Don't act like you didn't deserve it, I paid you the money in advance, man. Of course, I was angry,” he complained again and would probably have beaten him up for real right now if he had ruined his morning over something completely unnecessary. However, he would still have to make sure that something like this didn't happen again so that you didn't have another reason to kick him out of the apartment.
“You know, maybe this was meant to be. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been greeted by an absolute hottie today,” he said happily as he stood there, still interested. “Is she your cousin or something? Do you want to introduce me to her?” he asked and was quite confident in the way he acted, but Thanos just looked at him emotionlessly for a few seconds until he slammed the door in his face.
"Okay, he's gone now!" he exclaimed, bored, and made his way into the kitchen, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee or something while scrolling on your phone. "Don't open the door for that guy if he shows up again," he said, grabbing a cold Sprite from the fridge. You just looked at him with a displeased look. He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'll make sure that he and no one else shows up after today. But, I'm just saying that in case it still somehow happens."
Thanos then opened the can and drank from it while he continued to watch your face from the side. Eventually, he sat down next to you, although, to his dissatisfaction, that didn't seem to get your attention. "Hey, you want to go on a date?" He asked, and you weren't sure how many times he asked you that by now. You kept scrolling on Instagram. "You know my answer to that."
Thanos continued to grin hopefully. "Yes?" he asked and then watched you disappear out of the kitchen with your cup of coffee in your hand - probably to your room. "You should be glad that I'm even asking you! Other girls would die for..." he muffled towards the end before he stopped talking entirely once he realized that you weren't giving him a reaction.
Maybe, I should just go back to sleep, he thought to himself dejectedly, unable to believe that he had a better chance with you in dreams with pink elephants and breakdancing dogs than here.
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bokutosbabe · 2 days ago
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HIYAA i really wanted to send a request for your more than married event 😛 can i request Karasu and 🍑🍦thank you xx
HEYYY!! ofc !
a karasu tabito peachy ice cream :)
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જ⁀♡⊹。° you can hear it in the silence
♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!
♡ content — karasu tabito x gn! reader, gn! reader, best friends to lovers, nickname like 'babe' used (once), they are the silliest billies, flirting, oblivious friends to lovers
♡ synopsis — karasu tobito had always just been your best friend, but could this program change that?
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When you stepped into the apartment for the marriage simulation, the last person you expected to see lounging on the couch was Karasu Tabito.
He looked up from his phone, his signature smirk appearing the moment he saw you. “Well, well, well. Look who’s my lucky partner.”
You blinked, caught off guard. “Tabito? You’re in this program?”
“Surprised?” he teased, leaning back like he owned the place. “What can I say? I thought I’d add ‘model husband’ to my list of talents.”
You rolled your eyes, setting your bag down. “Yeah, that’s a real stretch.”
He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. It was so him—effortlessly charming, with just a hint of mischief.
You and Karasu had been friends for years, ever since middle school. He was the kind of person who lit up every room he walked into, his confidence and humor making him impossible to ignore.
But while most people saw only his cocky, carefree exterior, you knew there was more to him than that. You’d seen him at his lowest, too—nursing injuries, doubting himself, pushing harder than anyone else to chase his dream.
And now, here you were, thrown into a “marriage” with him.
“What are the odds?” he said, still grinning as you unpacked.
“Apparently higher than I thought,” you muttered, trying not to think too hard about how small the apartment was—or how close you’d be to him for the next few weeks.
At first, it wasn’t much different from hanging out as friends.
Karasu made it easy, cracking jokes and treating the whole thing like some elaborate prank. “You know,” he said one evening while you cooked dinner, “we could totally mess with the other couples. Pretend we’re, like, madly in love or something. Really sell it.”
You snorted. “You think you can pull that off?”
He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him. “I’m offended. I’m very convincing.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Prove it.”
Without missing a beat, he turned to you, his expression shifting into something softer, more serious. “Babe,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “You’re the only one for me.”
You froze, heat rushing to your face. “Okay, stop,” you said, shoving him lightly.
He laughed, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.
As the days went on, the lines between “pretend” and “real” started to blur.
It was in the little things—how he always made sure your coffee was exactly how you liked it, or how he stayed up late to help you with the program’s assignments, even when he didn’t have to.
And then there were the moments you couldn’t ignore, like the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long, or how his teasing felt less like a joke and more like a test.
You tried to brush it off. After all, this was Karasu. He flirted with everyone.
But then one night, everything changed.
It was late, and the two of you were sitting on the couch, the glow of the TV casting soft shadows across the room.
“I’m glad it’s you,” he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.
You turned to him, confused. “What?”
He shrugged, not meeting your eyes. “This whole thing. I’m glad it’s with you.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Tabito…”
“I’m serious,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I know I act like an idiot sometimes, but…you mean a lot to me. More than I probably let on.”
You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Why are you telling me this now?”
He laughed softly, running a hand through his hair. “Because I’m tired of pretending it’s not true. And because I’m an idiot who doesn’t want to lose his best friend without at least trying.”
“Trying what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
He finally looked at you, his dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded. “This. Us. Whatever this could be.”
You kissed him first.
It wasn’t planned, and it definitely wasn’t part of the simulation. But the moment your lips met, everything else faded away—the program, the rules, the fear of ruining your friendship.
It was just you in this moment, save for the little point total displayed in your living room going up by 10 points.
For the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.
The program ended a week later, and you both stood outside the apartment, staring at the door as if crossing that threshold would change everything.
“So,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets. “What now?”
You smiled, your heart swelling with hope. “Now we figure it out.”
He grinned, his usual confidence returning. “Good. Because I’m not letting you get rid of me that easily.”
You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.
Whatever came next, you knew you’d face it together.
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GOD I LOVE HIM
i hope you liked it!
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!
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bluem1lls · 6 hours ago
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HEYY, I LOVE UR WRITINGG
i have an idea where thanos flirts with reader and immediately reject him, giving him a dirty look or just being rude to him. se-mi is around there so when reader sees her their entire expression changes, giving her a smile or something like that idk 😭
it doesn't have to be exact to that, just take the idea of u like it and use it however u want!!
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✦ content: short fluff, how you met your girlfriend at the game while rejecting her friend!
✦ authors note: thank you so much! i was just rewatching and i kept thinking about this idea so i wrote a short fluff, i hope you like it! thank you for your request♥️
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⋆。°✩ ever since the games started, you've been along player 120 and player 095. until the third game, where you lost them out of sight. as you heard "group of 5", you kept thinking that maybe this was your last round.
⋆。°✩ i mean there was nothing else to do.. right?
⋆。°✩ until a girl pulled your hand, and somehow you ended up in a room with a purple hair guy, his weird best friend, this girl and a guy who seemed to be her friend.
⋆。°✩ she leaned against the wall, catching her breath, crossing her arms on her chest while staring at you. she has nice piercings.
⋆。°✩ "well, well, well... look at what the wind brought us. a new friend" the purple haired guy spoke, looking at me. "i'm thanos, and who brought this pretty thing?"
you rolled my eyes, trying to copy the brunnete's position.
turning your head to look at her, her piercing gaze stays on you.
"thanks..."
"se-mi" she introduced herself.
"i thought i was about to die out there, thanks se-mi" i said to the girl.
she nodded, thano's best friend chuckled.
"we've been trying to get her name for days, but a pretty girl shows up and that's the first thing she tells her"
i snort as she rolls her eyes and scoffs, mumbling something that sounded like "idiot".
⋆。°✩ of course you couldn't stop talking to her after the third game ended.
⋆。°✩ eating with her, chatting and even laughing. it was easy to forget about everything when you were with her.
⋆。°✩ but sadly, you could never find her alone. if she didn't had min-su following her around, thanos and nam-gyu were teasing her. so that meant you always had to chat with them too, as you tried (really hard) to get her alone.
⋆。°✩ "doll face, came to hear your boy throwing a few lines?" thanos said getting closer to where me and se-mi were sitting down.
"oh my god" i covered my face as i hear her laughing. "i like talking to you so much, but i dont know if it's worth... this" i pointed at thanos.
she smiled, her arm sneaked to rest on my shoulders.
"it's worth every penny. althought you may wanna tell him that you're not really going for boys" she whispered in my ear. i softly laughed as i stare at her. she's so pretty. and her friends so annoying.
"prettiest girls in the planet, listen out, this one's for you-" thanos started.
"listen" i cut him mid-sentence. "you're such a fun, amazing guy" i said, standing up and placing my hands on his shoulder. "and i bet any girl would be so lucky dating you"
he nodded, proud of himself, as se-mi stared smirking.
"but i think there's something that would make you even a better person" i said looking at him, straight in the eyes. "leave to a corner and please let me have ten minutes alone so i can flirt with se-mi"
⋆。°✩ his expression quickly fell as se-mi and nam-gyu snorted.
"so im not about to be your boy-"
"you're not. i'm not into guys, thanos. but you're...so...nice"
⋆。°✩ he quickly understood. apparently. at least he went away along with his best friend. it was more than enough.
⋆。°✩ "so.. can we go back to the flirting part?" se-mi said, her smile never fading as she played with her lip piercing.
"yeah, i think we finally can" i said, dragging her to sit with me in one of the beds.
⋆。°✩ no need to clarify anything else. the guys understood when the next time they saw you, se-mi was hugging you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder.
⋆。°✩ se-mi couldn't stop teasing thanos for falling for two times for two lesbians girls, which always ended up with him telling her how he'd release a rap called 'revenge is sweeter than girls' against her once they were out of here.
⋆。°✩ you believe him. you'll hear more about it once you're out of here, holding your girlfriend's hand.
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gretagerwigsmuse · 2 days ago
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But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching - this made me smile each time i read it
but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow. You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes - okay but now i can really pretend she’s me
like a groundhog’s day from hell - HAHA
You couldn’t remember who your first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time. - i mean matt damon, but if i had bradley bradshaw around growing up id forget all about him
You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly. - oh 🥺
Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. - i love these little details! this and the stuff about the dole whip and mini golf are so sweet and from a time gone by
“I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” - AND BROADER 🤭 oh my god he’s so pretty and he had the perfect response to this
more below 💕
“I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.” - HE WAS THE ONLY ONE IN THE MOVIE WHO CAUTIONED AGAINST THE PUSHUPS BECAUSE HE KNEW!!!
“I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.” - ohmyfuckinggod he’s such a NERD ugh i love him
The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about - girl thinks she’s SLICK
“I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.” Friend. The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in. - oh sweet girl 🥺 my stomach dropped at that too
He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. - this is so?!? who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me!?! like!? and the tight uva shirt?? bye (don’t even get me started on the family dinners)
He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. - not to derail, but can you imagine smart aleck doing this? oh my god bradley would go mental (affectionate)
It was nice to have a friend. - oh sweet girl 🥺 and i love the part about her not being too hard on herself because he really is the sweetest boy and it’s so easy to have a crush on him
“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything. “It’s a Wednesday.” - everything about this has me giggling
because then he was leaning in, in, in. - THE REPETITION!!! and then friend friend friend!!!
He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him. - OBSESSED with this!!! i know he’s a head kisser!! especially since maverick is so goddamn short! and the bit with amelia!?? BEST FRIENDS SIBLINGS (edit: did he get her a christmas present? i love the visual of her just standing super still and everyone else in the house being a little chaotic)
Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year. - i wanna go to a new year’s party like this with all my friends 🥰
Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat. - STOP THIS! how dare you keep this from me!?? oh my god it’s a FANCY PARTY!?? god he’s so pretty and tall and broad AND HIS THICK THIGHS!?! she’s stronger than any naval aviator
Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before. - jesusfuckingchrist i got butterflies why can’t he be real like you know i love a bow moment
He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started…saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away. - oh 🥺 he always comes up to talk though 🥺
The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year. - love this sentence and i also really like how you put a little blurb after each number in the countdown. i like that the countdown ends with her smiling to herself and being happy for herself! and all the work she did with the decorations and party planning work perfectly
You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year. - oh 🥺 and then there was bradley 🥺
As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Auld Lang Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it. - this is so hot of him i’m being so serious, i love auld lang syne so much, it’s so gorgeous on the piano and slowed down
That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would. - oh 🥺 this made me sad. she doesn’t want the magic to end and be alone 🥺
He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy. - NEPO BABY!!! but ugh i just know he’s got this cheeky smile on his face!!
You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now. - this is so sweet! oh i love this like he wants to take care of her! like he easily could’ve asked her for a drink, but he does all the work!
“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.” - sweetest boy!!!! ugh
He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.” - ENOUGH!!! this is so cute!!! and their little back and forth!? the fact that he pushes back on her response is so 🤭🤭
“You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.” - my heart would stop, my jaw would drop, i’d be a mess 🤭 this is SO cute wowowowowow
This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve. - just like is bradley in this moment!! he’s so smooth with all of this, but it still feels so earnest and sweet?
“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper. - oh sweet girl!!!! she doesn’t want to believe it yet
“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention. - oh bradley 🤭 isn’t it the same thing, love and attention?
Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. - TWO HANDS!!!! oh bradley!!!
That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for. - bestie you both have been waiting for years even if you didn’t know it
But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket. - i knew one of them was going to keep it!!!!
And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet. - 🤭🤭 i hope so
Save Your Midnights for Me
Summary: This year has thrown you through a loop. You lost your job, you moved to San Diego, and you reunited with your summer crush from all those years ago who still is just as handsome as ever. As the clock ticks down, you can’t help but wonder what the new year might have in store for you.
Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader
Length: 9k
Warnings: fluff and two pining idiots in love
(Author’s note: this one is for the hopeful romantics! Happy New Year, friends!)
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You’ve always loved New Year’s Eve. The excitement, the fun, the champagne, the confetti. Everyone riding the high of the hope and potential of the new year ahead.
But tonight, you were on the clock instead of watching as it inched closer and closer to midnight with every tick of the second hand.
The evening has been a whirlwind of cheerful faces as you pour pint after pint of frothy, cold beers. Your arms were definitely feeling the burn of all the margaritas and whiskey sours you’ve been serving up. You were putting all your well-earned practice from the last four months of working at the Hard Deck into good use for the steady stream of Naval patrons who had come to gather and celebrate.
But you liked the steady flow. It kept you focused; it kept you busy. With your head down and your thoughts occupied with tasks and orders and drink recipes and tabs, it spared you from having to see Bradley with the girl in the silver dress who was making it more than clear whose midnight kiss she was after.
Bradley Bradshaw had been the star in all your daydreams growing up. You just never could have anticipated that you still wouldn’t be able to kick that summer crush on him, even all these years later.
This year… hadn’t been the greatest.
The meeting you’d thought was going to be the start of a new chapter in your career with that promotion you’d been hoping and working so hard for had ended with you clearing out your desk and turning in your ID badge, but not even the decent severance package they sent you out the door with could have cushioned that blow.
You’d been laid off from your tech job just in time for your industry to be hit with hiring freezes so glacial it felt like there must have been a breakthrough in global warming, as if the ice caps weren’t melting.
You spent days then weeks then months applying and interviewing on repeat like a groundhog’s day from hell, only to encounter more closed doors than open ones. Had enough ever-so-casual networking coffee chats that you were pretty sure you’d need to switch to decaf if you still wanted to have some functioning adrenal glands by the time you were fifty.
Coming close- so, so close- so many times. Having the final decision come between you and another candidate only for your fingertips to slip off the edge at the very last moment.
Still freefalling the same way you’d been since you’d first been let go.
With your savings dwindling and spirits low, you’d decided that what you needed most was to decompress and reassess. And where better than the place where some of your favorite memories had been made.
All it had taken was one call to your Aunt Penny for the little strands of silver lining to peek out from behind the gray clouds that had filled your skies lately.
By the end of the conversation not only did you have a place to land- the furnished loft above the garage with an ocean view from the tiny kitchen- but also a just-for-now job too, getting to work with her at the bar. Something to help get you back on your feet while the dust of your imploded life settled around you as you figured out your next move.
You weren’t known for staying in any place too long as it was, so it had been easy to pack up and leave the city you’d been living in for the Southern California sun, feeling lighter than you had in ages.
Your mom’s longtime best friend was quite possibly one of your favorite people on Earth. And still is.
There was nothing you looked forward to more than those summers you got to spend in San Diego, when you got to trade your textbooks for days out on the boat. Your family would rent at home near the Benjamin beach house and for almost two months it was carefree days of endless blue water and sand between your toes.
But without a doubt, the highlight of your summer was always Bradley Bradshaw.
A few years older than you, he’d been the cute boy who was the object of all your daydreams. You couldn’t remember who you first celebrity crush was, but you definitely remembered the boy with the curly brown hair who was responsible for giving you butterflies in your stomach for the very first time.
While your brother was more than fine trying to ditch you at every turn, Bradley had always made you feel like you were right where you were supposed to be. He always made you feel included. He had been the one to teach you how to wakeboard, gave you his free dole whip when he made a hole-in-one at Tiki Town, and sat next to you the first time you ever rode the Giant Dipper Roller Coaster.
Even though Penny and Mav’s relationship had been on and off for years, Bradley had remained a steady presence in your life every July and August.
Until the one summer when he didn’t show up.
You’d sat on the stairs with your arms wrapped around your knees that first night and listened on as your mom and Penny talked, piecing together the explanation for Bradley’s absence and why your aunt was dating the uninteresting man you’d met earlier that night at dinner.
The sun, the sand, and the sights were all the same. And yet everything had changed after that.
That had been your last San Diego summer.
You moved on, you went to college, you grew up. But you had never forgotten the boy who had made you feel like sunshine.
You’d always hoped he remembered you just as fondly.
When you heard that Penny and Mav were back together, you thought there might be a chance to see him again, you were always curious about how things had turned out for you. You just never expected for him to quite literally crash back into your life.
Or for all of those sun-warmed feelings came rushing back.
It was your third day of working at the Hard Deck.
You were still getting use to the lay of the land- and announcing corner whenever you made your way out of the stockroom- when you’d come out of the back with your arms full of refill napkins packs only to collide with a wall of muscles with a less than dignified oof.
“Oh, shit!” The hand that reached out to grasp your hip was probably the only reason you hadn’t landed on your ass, even as the napkins went everywhere. “Sorry, that was my- wait, Bee?”
The nickname from your younger years was exclusively reserved for close family and friends. Shortened over time from busy bee, a name your mom still wrote in your birthday and Christmas cards, because of the way you were always pursuing new activities with the kind of intense tenacity only found in the most precocious of kids.
Although, no one who’d known you squarely post-braces had ever called you that before. And definitely not anyone so solidly built with such a masculine, raspy voice.
But you knew those rich brown eyes and sun-streaked curls.
Just like you knew that under the soft looking linen blend shirt there’d be freckles dotted along his shoulder. Just like you knew that he was left-handed but preferred to throw a baseball with his right. Just like you knew he rode the Beach Blaster four times in a row that one time, not because he liked it, but because he was trying to get over his fear of heights.
“Bradley?” The right side of his mouth pulled up in a smile, seemingly pleased you recognized him. “Bradley Bradshaw?” you repeat, because even though he was standing less than three feet away from you, your brain was having a hard time processing the boy you’d known was now the man in front of you.
You hadn’t seen him since you were fifteen.
Although, you did try to look him up once in college when you and your roommates were tipsy off cheap sparkling wine and talking about first crushes. Giggling over poor choices and high-fiving over the ones who still Had It. Only when it was your turn, you’d found out pretty quick that he wasn’t on any socials- at least none that the four of you could sleuth out drunk on sheer determination and peach Andre. They’d let you have the rest of the bottle as a consolation prize when you’d all come up emptyhanded.
Bradley Bradshaw had remained a mystery to you, until that moment.
Gone was any trace of baby fat from his familiar face, replaced with a defined jaw and crinkles around the corners of his eyes. There were scars on his cheek and neck that hadn’t been there before, but the smile underneath that mustache was the same one from those summers all those years ago.
“It’s been a long time, huh?” Bradley said.
The only difference was the cute boy you’d known growing up was now quite possibly the most handsome man you’d ever seen.
“How’d you get even hotter?” you blurted. It only took a split second for your brain to catch up with your mouth, wincing at the words that hung in the air unable to take them back.
Bradley’s eyes widened in surprise just for a moment before he laughed. Loud and unguarded and amused.
Mortified and flustered you drop down to your knees to pick up the scattered brown craft paper wrapped bundles of napkins that littered the narrow hallway. His presence- and bulk- filling up the already small space.
He kneeled down next to you, helping to collect the packs. “I don’t know about ‘hotter’, but probably taller since that last time I saw you.” You couldn’t help but notice how big his hands were as he reached for the furthest one that was sent flying as victim of your two-person Big Bang.
And broader, you think.
“We’ve been doing a lot of push-ups lately,” Bradley chuckled, “I keep telling the squad to stop underestimating the old man, but they never learn. They’re still just as competitive as ever.”
“Jesus,” you muttered under your breath, needing a rock to crawl under. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt that ruffled around a man before. So caught off guard that all semblance of casually cool had left the building. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, and attempted to diffuse the situation with some self-deprecating humor, “Well, I wish second puberty had been as kind to me as it was for you.”
“From what I can see, it looks like it was pretty damn kind to you too.”
You’d pressed your lips together and fought back grin as you shook your head, reaching for another bundle. The last thing you’d needed was for him to be charming too.
You felt his gaze on the side of your face, like he was trying to catch your eye, and when you couldn’t avoid it any further without making it weird you met those warmer than cinnamon brown eyes.
“It’s good to see you again.” There was an earnest smile still in place on his face as he passed you the napkins he’d collected from his side of the hall.
He looked at you- probably the same way you’d been looking at him only a couple moments ago- trying to reconcile the carefree girl with the stunned woman in front of him, seeing what changes could be picked out on a face that hadn’t been seen in over a decade. You didn’t dare call it interest that was flickering in his eyes, but you could safely say there was at least some curiosity reflected in them.
You knew he wasn’t flirting, just trying to make you feel better less awkward about your earlier slip. Playing along the same way he did when he’d sabotage your brother at the water gun war game at Belmont Park so that you could stand a chance at winning a stuffed animal prize.
“It’s good to see you again, too,” you replied, meaning it as you gave him a smile of your own for the first time and watching as his own grew a little wider.
“Bee? Did you find them? The napkins should be-” Penny came rounding the corner, taking in the scene in front of her and who you’d been delayed by. Your whole body jolted like she’d caught you playing 7 Minutes in Heaven instead of crouching on the floor. “Oh, I see you’ve found Rooster. And the napkins.”
“It was my bad, Penny, I plowed right into her,” Bradley- Rooster?- said standing back up, wrapping a hand under your elbow to help guide you up to your feet.
“Sorry, I’ll be right there,” you told her, gesturing with your napkin filled arms. He was quick to reach out and catch one of the slipping packs from the top of the pile before it could fall to the ground again, helping you to get them better situated and less like a Jenga stack waiting to collapse.
“There’s no rush. I just wanted to make sure you were finding everything alright.” Her eyes drifted back and forth between the two of you, before landing on him and flicking down to the hand still on your elbow. “Hey, since you’re here, would you mind grabbing a fresh keg of the Stone Brewing lager for me?”
He nodded, letting go of you and hooking his thumbs into his front pockets. “Sure thing, can do.”
“Thank you, Bradley. And Bee,” she continued, turning back to you, “You can just bring those up when you’re ready.” You didn’t know what to make of the smile she gave you before she’d set off back to the bar.
The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments, although it hadn’t been the uncomfortable kind.
Bradley cleared his throat, his mouth quirking to one side. “I feel like there’s some kind of ‘the birds and the bees’ joke here. One I’m not qualified to make since you were always the funnier one of the two of us.”
That time it was your turn to laugh. You were more than a little pleased when his deeper one mixed with yours.
You warred with yourself- still holding those damn napkins- whether or not to wrap things up and go take them to Penny, but you wanted to know more.
“Rooster?” you’d asked, tilting your head at him in question.
“Believe it or not, I finally got past that fear of heights,” he explained, “I’m a pilot now.” You felt your smile grow on its own, it was something he’d always talked about. You were happy to learn he’d made it happen for himself. “Rooster is my callsign.”
It was a name you’d heard a few times since moving into the loft above the garage. The way Penny said it always made it seem like you should know who she was talking about, you just hadn’t taken a moment to ask, figuring that you’d meet this mysterious ‘Rooster’ eventually. You just never would have guessed you already knew him.
You told him as much, adding on, “Maybe she thought we’d kept in touch.”
“I would have liked that.” You ignored the fluttering low in your stomach. There was something in his voice that made your mouth go a little dry. “What’re you doing later? Are you here for long? I’d like to catch up, if you have time for an old friend.”
Friend.
The word shook you out of whatever Bradley Bradshaw induced haze you’d found yourself in.
You didn’t know how long you were going to be here, but one thing was for sure, all the two of you were ever going to be was platonic. It was a necessary reminder before any coconut sunscreen scented daydreams tempted you off course.
A smile stayed plastered to your face, one that felt more forced than it had been a few heartbeats ago, “I’m behind the bar until midnight, but I’ll be your friendly neighborhood bartender for the foreseeable future.”
Bradley grinned. “Guess, I’ll be seeing you around then, Bee.”
“I guess you will, Rooster.”
And you did.
You went from not seeing Bradley Bradshaw for over a decade to seeing him multiple times a week.
He kept you company at the bartop, swiveling on his stool, on slow nights as you found little projects to keep yourself occupied, like polishing and reorganizing the Hard Deck’s glassware collection. Filling each other in on the important things and people that had helped shaped the two of you into the adults that you’d grown into.
Rooster introduced you to his friends and teammates, making you feel not only included but liked you belonged in that same way he had when you were kids. Seamlessly bringing up common interests you shared with the people closest to him, giving you something to connect with them on your own outside of him. Always taking the initiative to extend invites your way to hang out at the beach or to check out the best spot for breakfast or to experience a Padres game complete with an unofficial culinary food tour of Petco Park.
He helped you paint the kitchenette in the loft a soft blue- with your aunt’s permission, of course. Meticulously taping off the countertop edges and cabinets, yet somehow ending up wearing more paint on an old, tightfitting UVA shirt that had seen better days than he got on the wall.  
And on Sunday nights he was seated across from you at the oak dining table with Amelia, Penny, and Pete for the weekly dinner the five of you all had together. They’d been back together for over a year now, and it seemed like it was for good this time based on the way they looked at each other. Your aunt was noticeably happier than she’d been even just a few years ago, that spark back that had been dimmed from an unhappy marriage.
You were happy for her and Mav.
He’d even taken you for a spin on his motorcycle. It was a one and done event, reaffirming what you already knew, that you were more of a four-wheel girl than a two-wheel one.
When you weren’t at the bar or working on the few remote side gigs you’d taken on to keep your skills feeling fresh, you were helping Amelia learn to code. It wasn’t your forte, but you were having fun spending time with her and teaching her what you did know. And in return, she’d help you to revamp your wardrobe a bit. You thought California cool looked good on you.
There had been a brief moment when you’d been packing up your old apartment when you’d worried about being lonely in San Diego not knowing anyone outside of your family, but you were the furthest thing from lonely and you had Bradley to thank for that.
It was nice to have friend.
However, you were finding that crush on him harder to get over than you anticipated.
You still get annoyed at yourself when he smiles at you a certain way making your cheeks heat up and your stomach flip. Although, you try not to be too hard on yourself because he’s genuinely kind and good looking and you’re only human. God knows you’ve seen enough people notice him too from your perch behind the bar.
But there were worse problems to have.
You had spent that morning getting the Hard Deck decorated for the big New Year’s Eve party.
As the first to arrive, you’d gotten the coffee going on the ancient coffee maker that you were trying your hardest to get Penny to replace when a big hand skimmed the side of your waist, reaching past you to steal the cup you’d just poured for yourself.
You turned to see a sleepy looking Bradley standing behind you, his curled looked more like they were fresh off his pillow than the way you usually saw them styled.
“It’s too early for this.” You watched as he took a big swig from the cup, wincing as he registered just how hot Jimmy’s machine had brewed the coffee, just a couple degrees below scalding.
You gave him an unimpressed look, “Says the man who routinely wakes up at 5am for a sunrise run.”
“It’s the weekend, Bee,” Bradley said like it explained everything.
“It’s a Wednesday.”
“Schematics.” He took another deep sip of your coffee, but not before you caught the mischievous way his mouth was curved upwards. “Everyone knows the days between Christmas and New Years Day are the Wild West of the calendar year, every day is a weekend day from the 26th to the 1st.”
You actually hadn’t seen Rooster since Christmas.
You’d decided to spend the holiday in San Diego since your parents had decided this was the year they were finally going to check out the Christmas markets in Europe like they’ve always wanted too. And you didn’t want to crash your brother’s first Christmas as a dad, instead you’d sent the most obnoxious baby toy you could find online in addition to a silky soft stuffed rabbit with your niece’s name embroidered on the ear.
When you opened the front door with the pretty stained glass sailing boat picture window, you’d been surprised to see Bradley standing there with a white faux fur trimmed Santa hat and holding a bag with unexpectedly well wrapped presents in one hand and a creamy, cranberry-colored pie in the other.
Your hand stayed glued to the doorknob as his eyes trailed over you. The house had been warm but a shiver still worked its way through your body as he took in your festive pajamas.
Before he could say anything Amelia ever-so-helpfully pointed out the mistletoe you’d conveniently forgotten about that had been hung above the wood door. Frankly, she sounded a bit too enthusiastic about it.
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like little punk, although his tone was so affectionate that you thought you must have misheard him. But you didn’t get to think on it for too long because then he was leaning in, in, in.
Your heart shot straight into your throat at the first prickle of his mustache and then the slightly dry lips as they brushed against your cheek for the briefest of moments.
And then he pulled away all too soon.
Friend. Friend. Friend. You tried to remind yourself, but your heart was too aflutter to get the message.
He looked you straight in the eyes as he stepped back, “Can you do me a favor, Bee?”
You must have made a sound that was close enough to an mhm, because then he passed you the bag of presents and the pie waiting only long enough to make sure you had a good hold on them both before darting around you to chase after Amelia.
Amelia squealed when Bradley caught her, ducking his head down to drop a playfully chaotic kiss on her cheek.
He ended up giving Penny and Mav the same treatment too. Although Pete shoved him away good-naturedly when he tried to plant a particularly sloppy one on him.
All while your feet stayed glued to the same spot they were when he kissed you.
But that was six days ago. Probably the longest stint without seeing him since you collided with him that afternoon a few months ago.
The smell of strong coffee and cinnamon had coaxed you back into the moment, and you’d shook your head a bit like that would help you clear your mind with Bradley standing so close to you again.
“I don’t think it’ll take us too long,” you declared, trying to get focused back on the task at hand- that being the unofficial head of the NYE decorating committee, “I even made us a schedule.”
“Of course you did. Is it color-coded?” he asked over the rim of the chipped mug.
“And if it is?” you countered, unashamed of your planning. And then there was that damn smile of his.
“Then I’m really going to need this coffee,” he winked, and poured you a cup of your own.
You’d been right though. With everyone pitching in things came together rather quickly.
The morning moving steadily as the Christmas decorations were replaced with classic the gold and white and black color scheme you’d went with for the party. The silver tinsel tree covered in beach themed shaped ornaments with a few planes hung about by the front door might have stood out at odds with everything else, but metallic was a neutral in your book so you’d opted to keep the cheerful tree up just a little bit longer and tucked a few party blowers into the branches to tie it in with the rest of the space.
It was easy for you to get in the zone, delegating and divvying up the tasks on your color-coded schedule, putting all your project tracking skills to use. There were dozens of strands of string lights that had to gone up on the ceiling and along the walls. All of the windows with the snowflake cut outs you and Amelia had made for Christmas were framed in a metallic fringe. There was a station with hats and headbands and glasses in case anyone was feeling particularly festive. The tables and booths had been stocked with noise makers and confetti poppers in addition to the mirrorball centerpieces and confetti scatter.
Everything sparkled and shined, the light bouncing off everything gave the bar a wonderfully hazy glow, it was the perfect ambiance for the most hopeful night of the year.
At one point, you’d been working on hanging up some dangling golden stars from one of the ceramic mug rounders only to find Bradley standing there at the base of the ladder behind you with a well-defined arm stretched out just in case you lost balance.
And then just like that, your focus went out the window. Because then he was everywhere. He made it impossible for you to not notice him, especially since so many of your jobs and his overlapped, something you’d come to regret more and more as the hours went by.
You’d been working on tying off balloons and lamenting the fact you didn’t order another pump with the tying tool, when you’d decided to take a break to massage your numb fingertips. You looked up to check the progress made with fresh eyes, to see Rooster on a ladder helping Mav to get the netting set up for the balloon drop.
The athletic shorts he’d been wearing were hanging low on his hips. And as he reached up to hand Pete another nail it caused his t-shirt to ride up giving you a glimpse of toned stomach and tantalizing v-lines. It was just as tempting as it was taunting.
You’d switched to ice water after that.
The image was seared into your mind for the rest of the afternoon. Not even the freezing cold shower you’d hopped into the second you made it back to your loft to freshen up before the party had helped. Neither had the rushed orgasm to take the edge off, because it wasn’t your own fingers that you wanted.
He’d found you before the party well and truly started.
You’d been double checking all the prep, making sure you had the bar stocked up as was possible without losing any valuable space, when you felt a hand on your back. Bradley was dressed up in a navy suit that fit him in all the right places, looking more handsome than you knew possible. All broad shoulders and thick thighs. The top button of his pristinely pressed white shirt undone, giving you a peek at the divot base of his throat.
You weren’t sure what made you more flustered, that hint of his neck or the skin under his bellybutton that you’d seen only a couple hours ago.
A soft smile coasted over his face as he took in your New Years’ Eve finest. “You look-”
“I know, rhinestones for New Years’ Eve, how groundbreaking,” you joked, cutting him off and giving your best Miranda Priestly impression.
You were wearing a black velvet jumpsuit for the party. You loved the way it fit the curves of your body and the way the halter top made your collarbones and shoulders look. There was just a hint of skin with the keyhole near the bust. But it was also practical- right down to your plain black no-show panties you had on- so you could move easily without worrying about giving anyone an eyeful. It wasn’t the flashiest of outfits, there’d be more than enough sequins later on, but the way Bradley was looking at you made it feel like your off the rack might as well be haute couture.
“I was going to say, you look good. Really good.” Bradley takes his time letting his eyes drag down your body, his cheek kicking up when he lands on your shoes. “I especially like the birks, they tie the whole look together.”
The clogs you were wearing were decidedly unsexy, not many people could pull of the potato shoe, but you weren’t there as a party guest, you still had work to do and your night was just getting started. “I don’t think stilettos and stouts would mix together very well,” you said by way of explanation.
Bradley chuckled and reached out taking an end of the little rhinestone bow that dangled from right beneath your neck where the straps met and twirled it between his fingers for a moment. “I think this might be my favorite part though,” he rasps lowly. There was an intensity in his eyes directed at you that you hadn’t seen before.
For a moment it looked like he was about to say more, and then a glass shattered.
The sound of it caused you to crash back into your body.
“And so it begins,” you announced, taking a half step backwards and out of his touch, that rhinestone cord falling back against your sternum with a gentle thud that you felt reverberate in your chest.
You heard him say your name, but you were already setting off for a broom.
So you’d kept your head down and your hands busy.
It felt like for every drink you made, two more were ordered. Barely noticing as the final minutes of this year flew by while you garnished drinks with bright cherries and slices of lemon with a flourish before handing them off.
Offering smiles and well wishes to those here to celebrate. True to your namesake as you swiped cards and counted bills and mixed and poured and served the drinks to the ever-rotating people in front of you.
You made eye contact with Rooster a couple times throughout the night, the same way you usually did when you were behind the bar and he was there. Eyes drawn to him like a magnet against your will.
He hadn’t come up to you at all since before the party started. You’d seen him with the Daggers when you went to refill the water tank, heard the keys of the upright piano when you grabbed more ice from the back room, saw him talking with the girl in the shiny dress and her interested eyes as you put the freshly washed glasses away.
Just like he’d been the best parts of your San Diego summers, he’d become the best part of your year.
You’d spent the last four months trying to convince yourself that it was a silly crush, that you could will it away or get over it. But now just a couple moments shy of a new year barreling towards you, it was time to face the fact that Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t someone you were ever going to get over.
Although if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t sure you wanted to get over him.
You’re giving the counter a quick wipe down, taking advantage of the brief lull when the music cuts off, startling you out of your thoughts.
Twelve!
The countdown had snuck up on you. Just like everything else had this year.
Eleven!
You’d had your fill of unexpected surprises, some for the worse and some for the better. While it felt like you’d had more downs than ups, you were ending the year feeling the most content you have since you were laid off. And that was more than good enough for you.
Ten!
At the beginning of this year, you never would have guessed that you’d end it in San Diego. This year had taken from you, but it had also given you a lot. New friends, new places to explore, new memories, new hopes.
Nine!
You were still figuring things out and that was ok. Even though you still weren’t sure what was next for you, you knew everything would work out. One way or another you’d find yourself on the other side of this and able to look back with pride for making it through all the challenges that had been thrown your way.
Eight!
And while things didn’t shape out the way you anticipated them to, with goals still yet to be achieved and a vision board of ideas that you’d carry into the new year, you had so much to be grateful for.
Seven!
You liked San Diego- and not in the just-for-now way. You liked the life you were building here. You liked the beach and the sand and the sun. You liked you Sunday dinners with Penny and Amelia and Pete. You liked the people you were surrounded by. You liked the stories you’ve collected from your side of the bar. You liked the diner down the road with their perfectly shaped coffee cups. You liked your new normal while you got your feet back under you. You liked the potential you felt was here.
Six!
And then there was Bradley.
Five!
You were avoiding looking in his direction, too worried about what you might see, not wanting to end this year with another disappointment. You’ve come to accept that he had a piece of you that you weren’t sure you were ever going to get back. But that was something for you to deal with next year.
Four!
For now, you are right where you are supposed to be.
Three!
Because what is meant for you will never pass you by. Not in life and not in love. And that was something you could count on, something you could hold onto.
Two!
You smile to yourself and close your eyes.
The crowd chants One!
You breathe out and let go.
And when the cheers of Happy New Year! ring out, you breathe in and open your heart up to all the possibilities.
Enjoying the moment for what it was- exactly as it was- as the party noise makers started going off all around you.
As New Years’ kisses were traded.
As people greeted a fresh, bright New Year with wide-open and welcoming arms.
Where anything could happen.
Where anything was possible because the year was waiting to written.
You tip your head back and open your eyes, watching as the balloons you’d spent the afternoon tying knots in started to fall, slowly at first and then more until your view was a cocoon of black and gold and white and clear blocking out the rest of the world from view.
Time seemed to slow a bit as the confetti poppers joined the mix adding to the echo of fireworks going off nearby. The glints of gold and little shiny dots of sparkles and streamers seemed to hang in the air. There was a cacophony of cheerful noises, from the poppers to the people to the familiar sound of Whitney Houston being piped over the static-y speakers.
A moment of magic for you and you alone, as you pocketed the hope and optimism you felt rippling around you.
Over the next couple of hours pass just as swiftly as before. As you got back into the groove of serving people, your brain snagged on the sound of Aud Land Syne being played on the upright piano at the other end of the bar, and the only person it could be playing it.
It wasn’t long before people steadily started to trickle out the front door.
You’d made sure to shoo Penny out to the dance floor with Pete as the lineup of people slowed down enough for her to have some New Years Eve fun.
No one had gone too crazy, but even so, you helped arranged people rides to get home safe between closing out tabs and announcing the last call for the few people who wanted to stick it out until the very end. Waving to your new friends as they all slowly but surely made their exits.
You’d lost track of Rooster along the way, it would have been nice to wish him a Happy New Year, but it was probably for the best. It was easier on your heart to not know whether he left with some of the Daggers or with the girl with the silver sequins.
You just locked the door after the last couple stragglers had left for the night. You’d sent Penny away a little over a half an hour ago- along with Mav- since there’d been only a handful of people to look after.
She’d made you promise not to stay behind after locking up, but you didn’t see the harm in tidying things up a bit more. You were collecting the empty glasses that had been scattered about and abandoned on window ledges and tables when you caught a figure out of the corner of your eye, nearly causing you to drop the bus tub you were holding on to.
“Bradley! Jesus.” You set the plastic tub down on a table with more force than necessary, the glasses rattling against each other, and press a hand to your chest where your heart is rapidly knocking about. “What are you still doing here?”
You figured he left already, so you’re more than a little surprised he’s still here. And not just because he startled you half to death.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, putting his hands up. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you, I was taking out some trash and then got held up talking to Jake for a few minutes. I didn’t realize everyone else had left.”
“I just locked the front doors,” you say, waving towards the now closed front door.
Bradley takes a cautious step closer. “So, it’s just us then?” He doesn’t even have the decency to look like he’s been partying for the better part of five hours, he looks just as handsome as he did at the start of the evening, whereas you’re sure you probably look as ruffled as you felt.
“We’re the last two standing,” you confirm, putting your hands on your lower back to stretch out the tightness that had settled along your spine over the course of the night, “But just barely, on my end.”
“You’ve been busy tonight.” You hum in agreement and reach for a foam-covered glass that was left between the coaster holder and napkin dispensers. His big hand closing around it first and he pins you with a look, leaning a hip against the table, “So tell me, why are you still cleaning when you and I both know for a fact Penny hired a crew to take care of this in the morning?”
You don’t have an answer for him, at least, not one you were willing to share. That even though the ball had dropped and the confetti had fallen you weren’t ready to have the night be over yet. Knowing that the moment you locked up for good and got in your car and headed home, that the bottle of champagne you’d bought for yourself and plans with Meg Ryan and Billy Crystal wouldn’t hit quite the way you’d hope it would.
Instead, you offer him a shrug.
Bradley’s eyes search yours for a moment before he gives you a gentle smile. “C’mon, busy bee, I think you’ve more than earned yourself a glass of champagne.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, already making his way towards the bar, not that you put up much of a fight. The ‘Greatest Hits’ playlist that Penny had queued up for the night is still playing in the background, you recognize opening notes of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” as you trail after him.
You lift an eyebrow as he pulls out a stool for you, but he just mirrors you by lifting one of his own and gestures to the seat. You think you feel his thumb sweep over your hip as he helps you into the stool before stepping into the front bar. A little sigh of relief slips out of you, finally off your feet for the first time all night.
You’re tired, but it’s a happy kind of tired. You’d had a nice time all things considering. Seeing the bright faces of everyone tonight had made all the work you’d put in feel worth it, all the planning and prep and decorating made it worth it if tonight ended up being a fond memory for someone.
Bradley grins at you from over his shoulder mischievously, “You know, Penny’s never let me behind the bar before.” He says it so conspiratorially, like he’s getting away with something and you’re an eyewitness to his delinquency, as if he wasn’t a decorated golden boy of the United States Navy.  
You laugh, endeared by the boyish smile on his face. “Probably because you’re never wearing the right shoes,” you tease, wiggling a clog towards him.
And he chuckles, warm and affectionate.
Rooster finds the freshly washed glasses easily- Pete had done a great job as the designated dishwasher of the evening, loading and unloading glasses as quickly as they came with speedy efficiency. You see as his hand hesitates for a moment eyeing the already open bottle of champagne on the counter warily, and you point a glossy cranberry coated fingernail to the fridge under the counter, where you knew a few uncorked ones were still stocked knowing that Penny won’t mind if you pilfer a celebratory bottle to share between yourselves.
With your help he finds the chilled bottle and shoots the cork across the room with a cheerful pop! You make a mental note to pick it up later marking the spot in your mind, which he must notice because he says, knowingly, “Don’t worry, I’ll grab it later. You’re officially off the clock.”
He pours you a glass and then one for himself with a flourish, clearly showing off as the bubbles fizz to the top of the rim without spilling over. You’ve spent all night catering to everyone else, it’s nice to have someone looking out for you now.
Rooster holds out a glass for you, “Cheers, Bee.”
You smile and clink yours against his.
The bubbles burst across your tongue, refreshing and crisp. The two of you sip on your glasses of champagne in companionable silence for a few moments, enjoying the calm after a busy day and busier night.
“Did you have a nice time tonight, Bradley?”
“It was nice enough, I guess,” he says, giving you a half smile, “I’m having a much better time now though.”
You take another little sip, attributing the fluttering in your chest to the bubbles.
“It feels weird to be sitting on this side of the bar,” you muse, changing the subject, “You know, I don’t think I made you a drink at all tonight.”
He takes the bottle and pours you a little more. “People kept hogging my favorite bartender.”
You grin into your glass.
“I would have made time for you,” you say.
He leans down and fold his arms in front of him, so that your faces are level. “You would have?”
The answer comes easily. “Of course.”
Bradley gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret, like reading your face isn’t enough that he wants to know what’s going on inside of your head. You always kind of thought your cards had been on the table the whole time, but maybe you’d been keeping them closer to your chest than you’d realized.
“It was nice of you to make sure Penny and Mav got out on the dancefloor earlier.”
“You saw that?” It hadn’t been an easy feat, but it had been worth it to see them looking at each other in a way you hoped you’d find someday.
His gaze is steady when he replies, “I did.”
Flustered now, you feel your cheeks heat up. “Amelia and I had a bet about if he was going to propose tonight, and I thought I’d do my part to try and help her win twenty dollars. I didn’t think he would, at least not here in front of a crowd of people, but I hope he’ll do it soon.”
He nods, taking a sip of his own, the tips of his ears getting red.
You lean forward on your elbows, “Tell me what you know, Bradshaw.”
“I’m a vault,” he says, shaking his head.
“Does he have a ring?” you ask, elatedly.
Bradley takes another deep sip of champagne, giving you nothing, at least not with his words. But you don’t need him to confirm, not with the way his lips are turned up, clearly happy for his uncle and your aunt.
Good, you smile to yourself, that’s good.
“I also happened to notice that you didn’t get to dance at all tonight.”
“No, I didn’t.” You could have. Penny had tried to get you to take a few minutes to enjoy yourself, but you kept finding excuses to stay planted where you were. “There’s always next year,” you add, circling your finger around the base of your champagne glass.
Bradley steps out from behind the bar and takes the half full glass from your hand, setting it on top of a coaster in a move that you find entirely too appealing.  And holds out a hand out for you, “We should fix that.”
His large fingers wrap around your hand- strong and sure- as he guides you towards the old jukebox, the two of you walking over the confetti covered floor and though the sea of balloons that bobbed in your wake.
He lets go when the two of you have reached the middle of the makeshift dancefloor that had been cleared of the tables that were normally there for the night. Your feet stay put as he makes his way to the sticker covered jukebox and starts flipping through the options.
“I keep trying to get Penny to get a new one that takes a card,” you say nervously, filling the quiet, the air now charged with something new between the two of you. “Or one with an app, where people could pay and pick things from their phone.”
“Now where’s the fun in that?” he teases playfully, still scanning through the CDs, clearly on a mission to find a particular song.
“She keeps a couple spare quarters on the ledge behind it- but uhm- I’m not sure if they’re still there or not, or if people have already used them. I could grab some from the register-”
You take a half step back, but Rooster stops you.
“Don’t go flying away, Bee.” He pulls out his wallet from the inside of his suit jacket and fishes out a couple coins, holding them out on his flattened palm for you to see. “You see, I’ve been saving these ones for just the right girl.”
You didn’t know your heart could beat so fast.
Bradley slips them into the machine with a metallic plink, once and then twice. The corner of his mouth pulls up as his eyes drift over you. “Yeah, you’re definitely an N24 kind of girl.”
He punches in the code and walks purposefully back to you.
The gentle sound of an acoustic guitar crackles to life over the old speaker system of the Hard Deck, the song much slower than you were anticipating. The opening notes are familiar ones to you, but different than what you were used to hearing. This rendition was delicate and atmospheric. Intimate. Almost like the music was wearing its heart on its sleeve.
Bradley wraps an arm around you and pulls you in. His eyes are heavy on yours, you feel the weight of them everywhere. He coaxes your hand onto his broad shoulder and takes the other one in his, drawing it to his chest.
He holds you close as he leads you in a dance.
No one has ever looked at you the way he is looking at you.
“Ask me about my night again,” he murmurs, invitingly.
You swallow. “Did you have a nice time earlier tonight?”
“No.” Your breath stutters in your chest and you miss a step, but he easily guides you through it. “No,” he repeats, “I didn’t because I couldn’t spend it with the only person I want to.”
Your voice has escaped you, not that you’d trust it not to completely give you away.
“This is the part where you ask me how it’s going now.” He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, encouragingly.
“This doesn’t feel very friendly,” you whisper.
Bradley presses you even closer to him. Every part of you is touching him, and you’re warm everywhere. “That’s good,” he rasps, “Because I’m not really going for just ‘friendly’ here, honey.”
You see everything there plain as day, written all over his face.
All you can say is his name.
“Bradley.”
And he says yours in return, so gently like it’s precious to him.
“I kept hoping you’d look my way during the countdown. But then you looked so thoughtful and all I wanted was to see that moment through your eyes. I couldn’t look away, you’re so beautiful.”
Feeling brave, you slide your hands up his chest and around his neck, combing your fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. He hums, pleased and content.
“You didn’t get a New Years Eve kiss.” It’s a statement. Like he knows because he was paying attention.
Your stomach swoops, and it’s like you’re fifteen and riding the Giant Dipper again.
“Neither did you, it seems.” His eyes drop down to your mouth.
“No, I didn’t,” he confirms, raising a hand up and skimming his thumb along your lower lip. “But now I’ve got a whole year to practice.
Bradley brings both hands to cup your face. His eyes traveling from your eyes to your nose to your mouth, a soft smile on his face as he leans in to kiss you.
When his lips meet yours it’s like time stops. You can’t hear the music over the rushing in your ears or the beating of your heart. In that moment, all there is only Bradley.
There’s no hesitation in the way his mouth moves against yours. Or in the way his teeth grazes your lower lip, right before he follows it with his tongue. It’s as if he has played this moment in his head so many times before.
Like there was never a question in his mind about if it was ever going to happen, but when.
There’s a surety in his touch, in the way he cradles your face in his big hands, in the way he angles your head just right.
The way Bradley kisses you makes you feel like this is the moment he’s been waiting for the whole night.
That it’s the moment he’s been waiting the last four months for.
His kiss is sweet like cinnamon and you know you’ll never be the same now that you’ve had a taste of it.
Your first one of the year. And it belongs to Bradley Bradshaw. Just as you always hoped it would be.
He pulls away just enough to skim his lips teasingly against yours. “Happy New Year, Bee.”
“Happy New Year, Bradley.”
You grin and he dips back down to kiss you again.
Time ticks on, but this time there isn’t a countdown. Only his mouth against yours and your arms wrapped around his neck.
After a while, he pulls away again, looking entirely and thoroughly kissed. It’s a good look for him.
He smiles at you. “My mom used to believe in ‘beginning as you mean to go on’. Taking time on the first of a new year and doing something that you want to make a part of your year going forward,” he says, stroking your cheek with his thumb, “So if you’re up for it, honey, I’d like to take you out to breakfast at that 24-hour diner. Because I mean to go on with you this year and the next one after that if I’m lucky.”
“I’d like that,” you say, taking a snapshot of this moment and the way those warm, brown eyes are gazing at you. “Just as long as we leave some time for mine. I have an idea of how I’d like to ‘begin as I mean to go on’.”
“Yeah? What did you have in mind?”
You don’t answer, instead you just lean in close until you feel his smile pressed against your.
The two of you eventually lock up for the night, for good this time. But only after Bradley finally stops kissing you long enough to grab that cork he’d shot across the bar earlier, pretending not to see the way he tucked it into the pocket of his suit jacket.
He takes your hand in his warm one, his fingers slipping easily between yours like he’s done it hundreds of times before.
The sunrise is still a couple of hours away, but you can see the promise of dawn and all the possibilities it’ll bring.
Bradley turns his head back to look at you and grins, it’s wide enough that the corners of his eyes crinkle.
A new day, a new year.
And you can’t help but think that this really will be the best one yet.
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Happy 2025, tgm friends! I hope this is your year! Thank you for reading!
And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!
If you want to know what song Bradley played for Bee 🥰
You can read my other stories here!
Taglist:
@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader
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evelynvipah · 2 days ago
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I’ve been wanting to talk about how even Jinx is very ignorant, or just comes off as uncaring, to the extent of Vi’s trauma in regard to before her prison time and after. I’ve also always found it quite weird and unfunny how quick people were to make jokes and say that Jinx “clocked” Vi in the tunnels when they were searching for Vander and fought about what they were doing after all the time had passed.
Jinx has actively watched her sister lose herself for months without interference—with knowledge that she was thrown into Stillwater, facing things that Vi obviously isn’t going to be that vulnerable abt—knowing that they both share the intense childhood trauma of losing an entire family in one night, and still finding it within herself to make fun of Vi being passively suicidal is honestly horrible to me. Especially considering the position Jinx has nonstop been putting Vi in since they reunited. Yes, Jinx has been going through some traumatic things, but not once has she even stopped to think (that we’ve seen) of what her sister has been through for the past seven years. The guilt she must be harboring for things she should not have had anything to do with, or responsibility over.
There have been plenty scenes where Vi recounts bits and pieces of her experiences in Still and most times she not only downplays it for the sake of trying to help other people understand where her position on a situation is from, but goes unacknowledged. With Jayce, when she asks him if he knows what being trapped for days, months, or years in a stone box is like he changes the subject to talk about their plans to go against what the council thinks and be more active against Silco. And with Jinx, her own sister, it doesn’t go any further than Vi wanting to reassure her that she’s always been there thinking about her and hoping to someday find her way back. No one, even Ekko, truly tries to reach out to her in a way that validates her own trauma and how the many changes she’s been through so far is affecting her. It’s all about what she can do for them or what position she holds in their lives. And I don’t say that in a way of meaning that everyone should drop everything they’re doing to focus on her, but a little goes a long way. Vi speaking out about her own prison trauma in multiple conversations could be her subconsciously asking for someone to show her some support or care that she hasn’t been on the receiving end of in years. She’s Jinx’s family—her only family left really—and all Jinx does is constantly disrespect her and what she’s willing to do or put aside for her.
This is me ranting at 2am so it might not make much sense (needed to get this out here), but I really hate that Jinx says to her “I busted half of Zaun out of Stillwater while you were passed out in the bottom of a mug,” as if that makes her such a good and heroic person. Yes, Jinx doesn’t really feel like that, but for her to throw it in Vi’s face like the girl hasn’t been carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders since she was a child is sickening.
Some may hate me for saying this but I really feel like so far the only person that has put more thought into Vi and what she’s ever gone through is Caitlyn. Caitlyn is the one who got Vi out of Stillwater and saw first hand her conditions. Caitlyn is the one that got to witness Vi’s world be turned upside down when she came back to Zaun and saw it’s all gone to shit. Caitlyn is the one that Vi told about Powder and her family and what it all meant to her. The amount of guilt and responsibility weighing on her shoulders over something she had no control over whatsoever. Being parentified by her own father figure and community, leaving her with no space to be a child. Caitlyn has stuck by her side when her sister was harming them directly too, seeing Vi as her own individual and not an extension of Jinx. Even when they separated, Caitlyn still managed to do some good thinking about Vi by forbidding the use of the cells on the lower levels of the prison because of how inhumane they were. To say that Vi had only known Caitlyn for such a short time, Vi had become Caitlyn’s everything real quick and I feel like it says something when compared to Vi’s strained relationship with Jinx. Or even Ekko, the only other person who would truly understand what Vi had been through and is still going through. Being the protector, being the savior, being someone that people feel can solve every last one of their problems. Jinx had a chance to really connect with Vi outside of saving Vander, and she chose to hurt Vi because she knew she could. She knew she wasn’t the only one with open wounds not even close to healing, and she couldn’t help but rub salt in the ones of her own sister to make herself feel better.
-rereading and this is all over the place but whatever loll
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pitchsidestories · 3 hours ago
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ex's and snow II Leah Williamson x Reader
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romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 3583
summary: a snow-covered hut in the Swiss Alps with a few good friends and ex-girlfriend Leah Williamson. Can the former lovers find each other again before the snow melts, or are they simply not meant to be together?
author's note: our first fanfic of 2025, we took our time and tried to make it a bit longer than usual and hope you like it.🥰🥰
The laughter got stuck in your throat when you saw your ex-girlfriend in the corridor.
Just seconds before, you were talking to Mariona and Ana Maria about a funny moment in the dressing room when you were all still playing for Barcelona. The short walk from the car to the cozy looking cottage had felt to you like a scene from the Last Christmas music video where good friends were having a good time together in a snow-capped cottage like this one was.
The magic of the enchanting setting was gone when you looked into the blue eyes of your former lover.
“Leah.”, you muttered in utter shock.
The looks she was sending you across the room were cold as the ice: ”You.”
Behind your back Mariona, Lia and Ana Maria stood silently as they watched the drama unfold in front of their eyes.
Both of your heads turned around to shot deadly glances at your mutual friend. “Keira Fae Walsh!”
“I didn’t do anything.”, she clarified, raising her hands innocently.
Slowly you shook your head: “No, you didn’t tell me she was going to be the surprise guest.”
“If I had known she would be here, I wouldn’t have come.”, Leah said spitefully.
The midfielder rolled her eyes in annoyance: “Stop whining, you both wanted to be included so I invited you both. You’ll survive.”
Knowing that there would only be three bedrooms and a sofa in the cabin plus two couples you turned hopeful to your former Barcelona teammate:” Ana we will share a room, right?”
“Sorry, you'll have to share.”, Ana Maria explained, destroying your hope for some peace in the night and nodding in the direction where your ex-girlfriend was sitting with her arms crossed in front of her chest.
“What, no way!”, you protested.
A mischievous smile played on the Swiss woman’s lip: “Oh come on, you’ll survive. Keira and Lucy are exes and get along too.”
“That’s different.”, you told her. Their breakup has been smooth with no hard edges unlike yours with the England national team captain.
She quickly commented:” Yeah, they’ve a dog together.”
“Luckily, we never got a dog.”, you countered brusquely. Even though you were aware that ever since Lucy and Keira adopted the West Highland Terrier Narla the two of you dreamed of a dog yourself.
With an amused smile on her face Lia had followed your verbal duel until asking everyone cheerfully: “Before someone murders her ex-girlfriend and turns this into a cozy mystery, would anyone like a hot chocolate?”
“I do.”, Laura announced smiling, holding hands with the Barcelona midfielder. While Keira’s head rested on the older woman’s shoulder.
“Amor, I’d like one as well.”, Mariona beamed at her Swiss girlfriend.
Grinning, Lia kissed the Spaniard on the cheek:” Of course, I’ll make you one.”
Seeing the four being this in love with each other, showed through those simple gestures, was equally heartwarming to you as well as a bit painful, reminding you of your own singleness.
You tried to cover up your own feelings with a half-joke: “I think I’ll need something stronger than that to survive this weekend.”
Without missing a beat, Laura send you a smirk from across the room: “You can put something stronger into your hot chocolate. We came prepared.”
She got up from her seat next to Keira and opened a cabinet, revealing a surprisingly large collection of liquor bottles. Grabbing a bottle of Irish Cream, she came back and poured a generous amount into your hot chocolate.
You didn’t protest. You just smiled mischievously at her: “You’re the best.”
“It’s not my first winter vacation in a cabin.”, she winked back while pouring some alcohol into her own mug.
“I can tell. It’s quite cozy actually, except for that pouting blonde sitting next to your girlfriend.” You nodded towards Keira who had changed seats to sit next to Leah and was now whispering quietly to her.
Laura only raised a knowing eyebrow at you and grinned: “Don’t worry we can spike her drink too.”
“Oh, she’s horrible when she’s drunk. You should have seen her after the Euros final.”, you laughed, thinking back to the summer of 2022.
“Really?”
You nodded: “Yes, I think I’ve never deleted that video of her in our hotel room.”
Pulling out your phone to show Laura the video, you tried to fight back a fond smile. Everything had felt easier and lighter back then, not just because you won the tournament. Now, looking at the footage of a younger, more relaxed Leah pirouetting around the room, your heart started to ache again.
“Oh, that’s hilarious.”, Laura smiled as she watched your phone screen where Leah drunkenly fell over and pulled the curtains of the hotel room down with her. You both had had a few too many celebratory drinks that night and you really thought it was the funniest thing you had ever seen.
“She refused to fall sleep after that. No one slept for more than two hours that night.”, you continued to explain, the memories filling you with a nostalgic kind of happiness.
Laura laughed politely: “I heard some of those stories from Kei. It sounded like you all had a good time back then.”
“We did but then she changed so much… You know, the fame. Everything happened so fast afterwards.”
Your break-up had been like a tornado. It came suddenly and without warnings. All you knew back then was that Leah was busy with fashion stuff and advertisements and suddenly, she wasn’t your Leah anymore.
Lauras face turned serious, her eyebrows knotting together: “Wait, that was the reason you two broke up?”
“Yes.”
“I heard it was super messy.”, Mariona contributed to your conversation, sliding closer to you and away from the rest of the group.
“You can say that again.”, you sighed.
On the other side of the room, Keira and Leah had their own conversation.
“Kei, I’ll never forgive you.”, Leah hissed at her best friend.
“It’s not that bad, Leah.”
The defender rolled her eyes: “Sure, maybe for you.”
Keira groaned with frustration: “You’re so dramatic!”
Suddenly Leah decided: “I’ll lay down before dinner.”
“What about your hot chocolate?”, the midfielder frowned.
She had barely spoken the words when Lia handed the blonde a steaming cup that smelled deliciously of chocolate.
“Oh, thank you, Wally.”, she mumbled gratefully before sipping the hot drink.
With a warm smile the brunette promised: “Drink it, you’ll feel better afterwards.”
“Does she magically go away after I finished drinking this too?”, Leah wanted to know from her in a hopeful tone.
Hearing that question Lia chuckled:” No.”
“Sad.”, she pouted, closing her eyes for dramatic effect, wishing you’d somehow disappear like you did in the past.
No complaining about her change since you were gone, no one saying that the fame did change her character not for the better, but for the worse.
Wasn’t the England captain so much happier now? Or did the ACL injury made her slow down again to be in the here and now, forcing her to be more selective of the time she had. If you had stayed with her longer, you’d have witnessed it firsthand. The only thing Leah was certain of was that you were the reason her thoughts were running wild.
Clearing her throat the Arsenal midfielder innocently suggested:” Maybe just try to be open for the situation.”
“I hate you both so much.”, the defender growled.
Still smiling Lia stated: “No you don’t.”
“What are we eating?”, Leah swiftly changed the topic.
Amused the Swiss woman lifted an eyebrow:” Why? Are you hangry?”
“Yes, I’m indeed very hangry.”, she confirmed.
Her Arsenal teammate couldn’t help but to start laughing about her dramatics: “Typical.”
Leah knew she wasn’t known for her cooking skills, so the blonde offered:” I’ll do the cleaning who’s going to cook?”
“I can cook.”, Mariona volunteered.
“I’ll help you with that, Mario.”, you responded, squeezing her shoulder slightly.  Back in Barcelona the two of you often cooked for your teammates, it was a passion you both shared and over the years you became a good team in the kitchen.
“And Leah and I’ll clean.”, Keira threw in.
As always, when the cooked food was on the table, it was eaten up far too quickly, at least you could see from the satisfied smiles on the faces of your friends that they had enjoyed it and the sight of it was what made you incredibly happy.
When the chatting and laughing was over, you all went to bed. As you closed the door behind you, you realized that you had to share the bedroom with none other than your ex-girlfriend, and to avoid her for a while longer, you stayed in the small bathroom for an extra-long time. 
You took a few deep breaths to brace yourself, watching yourself in the mirror as you did. You then changed into a pair of pyjama pants and an oversized shirt before exiting the bathroom.
Leah was already lying on her side of the bed, one hand on her flat stomach: “God, I’m so full.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes: “You never know when to stop.”
“It was too delicious.”, Leah shrugged, unbothered by the judgemental tone in your voice.
You didn’t feel like discussing with her so you just sighed: “I’m going to bed now.”
Leah watched as you climbed into your side of the kingsize bed and turned off the lights.
“Night.”
Sleep came surprisingly easy as soon as you were cozied up under the warm blanket. That was until someone gently shook you awake a few hours later. You didn’t open your eyes, you only managed to groan and bury yourself deeper into the sheets.
“Hey, I think the heater broke down… It’s s-so cold.”, Leah whispered, her teeth chattering with every other word.
“What?”, you yawned, too sleepy to understand anything she said.
“Can I get under your blanket? It’s freezing?”
Still half asleep, you lifted your blanket to let Leah crawl in. “Fine.”
”Thanks.”
Her shivering body pressed against your side, the two blankets laying in a big pile on top of the two of you. Leah felt so cold next to you that you had to pull her in, willingly sharing your body heat with her. “Come closer.”
The defender wrapped her arms around you, her skin icy against yours: “How is your body so hot?”
“Don’t know. You tell me.”, you grinned with your eyes closed.
Leah snorted about that before turning serious again: “No, really. You’re not getting a cold, are you?”
“Not with you warming me.”, you continued to joke.
“Good because Arsenal needs their captain.”
Finally you turned to your side, directly facing her: “Oh, so you should survive and I can freeze to death?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Just that we both can’t get sick right now.”
You nodded slightly: ”Okay, that’s fair.”
The winter break would end soon and neither of you wanted to miss out on training.
You both went quiet for a short moment.
“I saw that… you played a great Champions League campaign so far.”, Leah suddenly admitted quietly into the dark.
You took those words in, unsure what to do with them.
“Are you saying you still watch my games?”
“Sometimes I do.”, she confessed quietly. But the blonde didn't add, because of Keira or Ellie, so you wondered if that included you.
However, you were too afraid to ask her about it and instead teased her about her beloved club: “ I couldn’t get myself to watch Arsenal this season, the beginning of their WSL campaign was so depressing.”
“Excuse me?”, she huffed, her figure looming over you.
Amused, you stifle a smile, it was very easy to wind her up: “Yeah, okay, Keira told me it got better after your female coach took over.”
“Yes, it did.”, Leah confirmed matter-of-factly.  
Even though you could feel her intense gaze on you, you began to feel sleepy: “That’s great for you, you must be very happy right now.”
“Sure, believe that.”, the defender smiled sadly, which you didn’t see anymore because your eyes were already closed.
You slipped softly into sleep.
The next morning, Ana tugged gently on her friend's upper arm:” Come on, Kei. We shouldn't wake them up yet, they look so cosy.”
“Look at how tight Leah is holding on to her. She was totally lying about having no feelings for her anymore.”, the midfielder observed.
Her girlfriend continued:” And the one who’s laying in her arms hasn’t let go off their shared past either otherwise she wouldn’t keep videos with Leah on her phone.”  
“Let them sleep. Let’s go and make breakfast.”, Lia spoke up.
Glancing at the Swiss Woman Mariona’s face lit up while she talked: “I could really need a coffee or two to be fair.”
“Me too.”, Keira replied.
The Spaniard cheerfully concluded: “Time to get the coffee machine going then.”
“On it.”, Lia answered in a good mood.
The smell of ground coffee beans and the golden rays of the sun touching your face and hers woke you both up.
“It smells of coffee.”, you mumbled happily.
Leah shook her head in amusement: “I hope they made some tea as well.”
“Ugh, I’ll never understand how anyone can hate coffee.”, you remarked.
She immediately countered:” And I will never fall victim to the coffee addiction that you all obviously suffer from.”
The two of you made their way to the open kitchen, where your friends were already there. Their faces were illuminated by the morning light, an open window was letting in some fresh mountain air while they were almost done with preparing the breakfast for an adventurous day ahead.
“Good morning, girls.”, the Arsenal captain greeted them smiling, hugging Lia from behind.
The brunette returned her grin:” Morning. I guess that means no coffee for you?”
“Oh, yes is that tea for me?”, she hummed delighted.
“Yes.”, Mariona confirmed as she pushed the steaming mug towards the blonde defender.
Leah took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the tea before she wrapped her hands around it: “Amazing.”
“You’re welcome.”
After taking a sip from her steaming hot drink, Leah looked at the group in front of her: “So what are we doing on our first full day here?”
“Skiing!”, Laura beamed at her.
You saw Keiras eyes widen nervously in the background, and you had to stop yourself from laughing.
“Yes, it’ll be so fun. For the ones who don’t know how to do that we have sledges.”, Lia explained patiently.
You knew exactly what that meant. Laura, Lia and Ana would enjoy their time on the ski slopes while the rest of you were stuck with sledges.
Leah didn’t seem too excited about that plan: “Just great.”
To lighten the mood and to spite Leah, you asked the group: “Sledge race anyone?”
“I’m in!”, Mariona nodded quickly.
Leah rolled her eyes which usually would have offended you if it weren’t for the way the corners of her mouth lifted into a smile: “Such children.”
Mariona and you got up from the table, ready to get dressed for a day in the snow.
In the meantime, Lia leaned over to her teammate and whispered: “You should talk with one of those children later if you ask me.”
“Shut it, Lia.”, the defender replied.
“No, deep down you know I’m right.”
“No.”
“Yes.”, Keira finally said, raising on eyebrow at her best friend.
“Guys.”, Leah sighed with a pleading tone which was deliberately ignored by her friends.
“Just trust us, Lee.”
“No.”
This time it was Keira who sighed with frustration: “I wish you two weren’t as stubborn.”
“We’re not.”, Leah said cooly and got up from the table, ending the conversation abruptly.
No one said anything about it for the rest of the day. You were too busy playing in the snow. The sledge racing quickly turned into a snowball fight which then turned into you all trying to build a snowman together until the sun set.
Your face and hands still felt frozen when you returned to your bedroom in the cabin. With a tired but satisfied sigh, you let yourself fall onto the bed.
“You look pretty done.”, Leah smirked as she pulled her cold, wet sweater off of her body.
You tried your best not to look so you stared at the ceiling: “In my defense, it was a long day and my manager just called to tell me that I have to leave early tomorrow.”
“You’re leaving again?”
You frowned. Was there actually a slight hint of disappointment in your exes’ voice?
You must have imagined that.
“Yeah… I have to go.”, you confirmed.
“Oh.”, she sounded disappointed.
You suspected with a heavy heart: “I bet you’ll be happy to have one day without me.”
Much to your both surprise the blonde revealed: “Actually I was just getting used to you.”
“Used to me?”, you repeated, puzzled.
The England captain shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly:” Yeah. You’re less annoying than I remember.”
“Excuse me? You’re way more annoying than me.”, you quickly corrected her. In a serious tone you reminded your former girlfriend:” You were the one who had to attend every event, take each interview, miss out on date nights and our friends’ parties.”
As she listened to your accusations, Leah wrapped her arms around herself protectively. “Because I had to, not because I wanted to.”, the defender clarified earnestly.
You remembered loudly, the memories of your breakup returning to you in waves:” You didn’t even cry when I left.”
“What would that have changed?”, your ex-girlfriend asked.
Your voice trembled with both anger and sadness: “It would have shown that you cared about us!”  
“I did care!”, Leah hissed back.
You snorted in disbelief: “Sure, Leah.”
“Okay, fine. Believe whatever you want, you’re gone tomorrow anyway.”, she waved it off.
“You were serious.”, you realized.
A frustrated sigh escaped her lips: “Of course I was.”
“Do you think we were together at the wrong time and place?”, you questioned cautiously.
The Arsenal player took the time to think thoroughly about your question before replying: “Maybe we were.”
“Who knows, right?”
“Not us. If we could just go back in time.”, Leah begun with a longing expression on her face.
You promptly interrupted her:” But we can’t. It’s impossible until time travel is possible.”
“Obviously.”, she said annoyed.
“Don’t eye roll at me, Leah Catherine.”, you warned her with a half-crooked smile on your lips.
The defender cheekily raised an eyebrow: “Or what?”
“Or I’m afraid I’ll have to shut you up somehow.”, you explained.
Leah nervously ran her hand through her loose hair, which shone silvery in the moonlight. “Somehow? You used to do that by..”, the blonde reminisced.
“Kissing you, yes.”, you ended the sentence for her. The air was full of anticipation.
She moistened her dry lips: “You’re not trying to do that, right?”
“What if I did?”, you boldly posed.
“But what about tomorrow?”, the defender pointed out.
You returned her gaze with the same intensity: “I told you I’ll leave.”
“We shouldn’t waste more time then.”, Leah decided, her face only centimetres from yours.
Before you could reply, her lips were on yours. Your heart skipped a beat and for a moment it almost felt like nothing had changed since the last time she had kissed you like that. Your brain went to autopilot, your body took over. Wrapping your arms around her neck, you pulled her closer. Your kisses grew hungrier, more impatient. Despite the knowledge that she was your ex, your body ached for her. You wanted her right then and there.
Apparently, Leah felt the same way when she pushed you back on your shared better, her lips never leaving yours. It was almost muscle memory how your hands slid under her sweater, caressing the body that you knew so well. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it.
The next morning, you stayed in bed as long as possible, sneaking kisses and holding hands on your way downstairs for breakfast. Before you entered the kitchen, you kissed Leah one last time on bottom step. Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched through the ajar kitchen door.
“Girls, look!”, Ana said from her seat on the kitchen table.
“What?”, Lia asked as she appeared in the open door, leaving the scrambled eggs unattended on the stove.
Keira pushed the other midfielder aside so she could see what was going on: “Didn’t she want to leave already?”
“I heard her call her management this morning to tell them we were still snowed in.”, Mariona explained, smiling knowingly into her coffee.
This caused a few gasps in the kitchen.
Only then you realized that you were being watched. You didn’t mind, you already knew that this was their plan all along.
Nobody said anything when you sat down at the table, they were trying their best to act casual and went on to prepare breakfast. You subtly reached for Leahs hand under the table. She smiled at you but your attention was directed towards the snowflakes drifting past the window.
A big part of you was hoping that your lie turned into reality, that the snowfall would be getting worse and you would have a few more days here.
But for now, you were comforted by the thought that you had your Leah back.
gif source: https://www.tumblr.com/tracksuitlesbian/769781520922755072?source=share
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2amriize · 4 hours ago
Text
.ᐟ RIIZE scenario : drunk calling ex!riize ༉‧₊˚.
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req: hello sorry for another rq but what about ex!riize and you're drunk call him.. can i be 🪐 anon too pls
note: sure! thank you for your request ♥
pairing: ex!riize x reader— masterlist
⭑.ᐟ shotaro
“y/n? Why are you calling me?”
“I just… I saw this otter plushie on my way home, and it reminded me so much of you.”
After dinner with your friends, you drank a bit too much, and seeing that plushie made you think of your ex, Shotaro. You couldn’t help but call him, missing him deeply. Though you had separated due to the distance, both of you still harbored feelings for each other. Surprised by your call, he answered immediately, letting out a small laugh when he realized you were drunk.
“Are you walking home alone? Don’t hang up, I’ll talk to you until you get there… So, tell me, what was the otter like?”
⭑.ᐟ eunseok
“Why are you calling me now, y/n?”
“Do you ever think about me, Eunseok?”
Eunseok didn’t expect your call late at night, much less for your first words in months to be that. He stayed silent for a few moments before letting out a sigh.
“Have you been drinking, y/n?”
“Just… answer my question…” From the tone of your voice, he knew you were drunk.
“I’ll call you tomorrow, y/n. We’re not talking about this if you won’t even remember it when you wake up.”
⭑.ᐟ sungchan
“Huh? Sungchan? Why did you call me?”
“You’re the one who called me, yn…”
After your office dinner, you had a little too much to drink and accidentally called Sungchan. When he answered and heard your voice, he couldn’t help but laugh at how confused you sounded.
“It was me…? Sorry, I meant to call a taxi…” you said, about to hang up before he spoke again.
“Where are you, y/n? Have you been drinking?”
Even though it had been months since you broke up, Sungchan still cared for you deeply. He decided to stay on the phone to make sure you got home safely.
⭑.ᐟ wonbin
“Mgh…?”
Wonbin was already asleep when you called, his voice groggy as he answered. You had just gotten home from a party, but for some reason, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Memories of all the sweet moments you shared flooded your mind.
“I miss coming home and sleeping next to you…”
“Huh, y/n? Why are you calling so late?”
“I miss you, Wonbin… Don’t you miss me? Don’t you miss anything about me?”
“Ah… you’re drunk, aren’t you? I do miss you, y/n, but… this isn’t the time to talk about it.”
⭑.ᐟ seunghan
“y/n? Is something wrong?”
After drinking with your friends at a bar, memories of how things ended with Seunghan overwhelmed you. You hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye, and it still haunted you. Seeing your call, he answered, concerned, it wasn’t like you to call so late. But hearing your voice, he quickly realized what was going on.
“I’m so sorry, Seunghan… I’m sorry for leaving like that, for how I treated you, and… I hope someday you can forgive me, you know? I don’t know if it’s the alcohol or what, but I miss you so much right now…”
“You don’t need to apologize, y/n… Are you okay? Are you with anyone? I can come pick you up…”
⭑.ᐟ sohee
“Do you know how much I sacrificed for you? And you haven’t even apologized yet…”
The last thing Sohee expected that day was a call from you, let alone a drunken, angry one. Although he didn’t like the way you were speaking to him, he also didn’t want to argue with you in that state.
“I’m not going to talk to you about this right now, y/n. I already explained why we broke up… Are you home? Please go to bed. If you want, I’ll call you tomorrow, but don’t do this now.”
⭑.ᐟ anton
“y/n, what…?”
“Anton? I didn’t know who else to call… I’ve been drinking, and I started feeling sick on my way home… I think I’m near your place, but I don’t know…”
You thought you could get home without a taxi after a party, but you started feeling dizzy and lost along the way. Even though Anton was your ex, you knew he’d always answer, so you called him for help. Hearing your voice, Anton immediately grew nervous, worrying about you and getting ready to find you. He didn’t hold any grudges against you, if anything, he still hadn’t completely gotten over you. Without hesitation, he went out to help.
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masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi
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theartofwoompwoomp · 1 day ago
Note
HELLO!!! This is my first ask here but i just wanted to throw the idea of https://www.tumblr.com/theartofwoompwoomp/770097458415058944/oh-scrap-soundwave-x-human-reader-summary-the having the alternative ending of reader saying that knockout is the hottest? I was thinking maybe instead of soundwave, it would b KO
yk because knockout just IS the hottest i mean LOOK at him!!!
have a good day/night!!
Hello !!! i’m glad you reached out ! I love the idea of making an Alternative version on this. Thanks for the request luv <3
Oh scrap
(Knouckout x human!reader)
summary:the decepticons start talking about who’s the hottest one. alternative to oh scrap. 
————————————————————————
Oh he couldn’t believe it. 
They were seriously going to argue about this ?!
He could care less about others, especially small insignificant human, opinions.
Since the beginning of the conversation it had been nonsense. But the fact they weren’t even considering him in this particular topic irked him.
Everyone knows he’s the best looking bot. Especially out of the decepticons.
Going over, making his presence known as he stands right between the whole thing. “Oh please,” standing tall making everyone look, “everyone knows I’m the best looking Decepticon around.” Smirking at the fact that his poses were proving his point.
“Besides, out of everyone, the humans have chosen to ogle my aft mode the most.” 
His tone proud. Seeing the looks on the others faces only fueling his ego more. Especially Starscreams. 
The con’s wings kept twitching. Seething in fury at his declaration. Only so much was said before the seeker had enough.
Resorting to violence, the both of them were willing to fight both verbally and physically to prove their point.
“Fool !” Launching a fist towards the doctor. “You don’t know what you’re talking about !” His voice screeching as knockout dodged and slightly missed as he tried hitting him with his saw.
The other Cons had to break them apart before one of them pulled out their bigger weapons.
Breakdown holding back Knockout, as Starscream was being held back by various Cons. Only calming down when threatened of them bringing Megatron if they didn’t calm down. 
But such threat may have stopped the seeker from continuing the physical part of the fight but not the verbal part. 
“Hah ! You really think humans would ever think you’re the hottest ?!” Grabbing his attention once more, “We have a human on the ship.” Optics widening a bit, allowing the seeker to continue.
“In fact, they’ve been here the whole time. Yet, not once did they raise their voice to defend you. So how can you be sure the humans truly find you the hottest, not your aft mode.”
He had a point. 
Out of the two of them, only starscream had gotten a compliment about their true form. But what about him? 
Grinding his denta in frustration, feeling his own energon boil. About to defend himself when someone beat him to it.
“HEY! That’s uncalled for ! The only reason I didn’t say anything was because I too busy admiring Knock out in the first place !!!”
Small and fully ready to defend your crush you spoke louder, making sure everyone heard. 
“Knockout.is.the.Hottest. End of story.”
hwat? All eyes on you, heck in normal circumstances you’d stop there, but adrenaline kicking in and annoyance from the second in command’s voice you continued. 
“So don’t you dare continue talking down on my boy, or accusing me of stupidity cause you got another thing coming.” 
Your words shutting up the seeker. No one necessarily expecting that reaction from you. 
You simply left the room, not lowering your head or displaying any doubt in your words. Actually you seemed more annoyed than anything.
But in reality, you didn’t see the look knockout had. Smirking at his victory, he pushed by starscream making sure he stumbled, he strutted off after you. 
Embarrassment only setting in when you reached your room. How could you say that in front of him ?!?? Covering your face, you cringe from your actions.
“So, I’m your boy now~ hmm?”
Crap.
You left the door open. Stupid bot. Stupid talk. Stupid EVERY THING !!! You turn to him, seeing his stupid face and his stupid smirk. 
His optics looking over your every move. Amused at the way you seemed annoyed at him too. But in all honesty all your actions made his spark warm. Knowing where their all stemming from. 
Not letting you walk off, he picked you up and gave you a small peck on the head.
“Well if it makes you feel better, you’re also the most attractive human I know.” 
———————————————————————
masterlist
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Who's in Love With the Big Bad Wolf
Masterlist | AO3
Sterek
There was something creeping around Beacon Hills, what else was new? At first, they had thought it was random. They had been finding an unusual amount of dead animals recently. There didn’t seem to be a pattern until it was too late. A particularly creepy string of “gifts” clear it up: something was after Stiles. Again.
~14k
This is when they’re adults (Derek is 31 and Stiles is 28 b/c the cannon timeline makes no sense and Derek was supposed to be 19 in season 1 anyway) and Eli is about 8 years old. Stiles quit working for the FBI after the season 6 raid and decide to move back to Beacon Hills. He ended up working as a deputy under his dad and Derek owns the mechanic’s shop. Stiles and Derek became closer, like actual friends, since Stiles had been back. He even helps with Eli.
I also really enjoy this mental image of Stiles as a cop being just so fucking annoying to his coworkers. Like, he’s the “cool cop” that the teenagers half like and half make fun of because he openly talks about supporting ACAB and leans into the jokes like the Cop Cuties song and he’d totally be like Miles’s dad in Into the Spiderverse when he drops him off at school. I just don’t think he ever grew out of being a menace and, honestly, my favorite part about Stiles is that is is so competent and yet such a mess at the same time.
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It started with a dead birds at the diner Stiles frequented for curly fries– he’d seen some of the poor teenage employees having to bag and toss them in the dumpster. Stiles asked about it when he stopped by the dinner.
“Hey, officer Stilinski. How are you doing today,” the girl working the register asked.
“I’m doing good. How are you, Kimmy,” Stiles asked. He was here too often.
“I’m doing good, “ she smiled. “I saw your other half yesterday. He brought Eli in for an after school snack. He’s such a little cutie,” she said.
Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m not dating Derek.”
“If you say so,” Kimmy said. “So, a double bacon burger, no tomato, and a side of curly fries?”
Stiles nodded, pulling out his wallet. He was here far too much. “You know me well,” he said, handing over his card. “Not to kill everyone’s appetite, but have you noticed more dead animals around?”
“No, sorry. I just work the register and waitress,” she said, adding “I can ask Jonah but he’d report it if he thought there was something wrong.”
“That’d be great. Just have him give me a call,” Stiles said, taking his card back and handing Kimmy a business card with his work number on it. “Make sure that gets to Jonah, please.”
“Not a problem,” she said, setting it beside the register. “Your food will be ready in a few minutes.”
There were more dead animals around town, dead birds and rabbits at first. Sure, it was odd to see a dead rabbit in city limits but road kill happens everywhere, so it was quickly forgotten.
Then it was cats. The police department would get calls about half-dead cats around town– the hospital, the schools, one was even found at th station– which was when Stiles took notice. There were just too many to be a coincidence. After taking yet another call about a still-twitching dying cat on the steps Eichen House, and after confirming it hadn’t been the work of one of the residents, Stiles decided something needed to be done.
Stiles pulled up to Derek’s shop in the police cruiser. As he got out of the car, Derek walked over, wiping oil off his hands with a rag.
“You’re not helping my reputation by showing up in uniform,” Derek said in a tone Stiles knew to be his approximation of a joke.
“Being friends with a cop who happens to also be the sheriff’s son is hurting business,” Stiles asked with a smirk, leaning on the hood of his car. “I didn’t know you kept that clientele, Der. I mean, I’m all for ACAB, especially when the Feds come poking around but...”
Derek shook his head, standing in front of Stiles. “You really shouldn’t say that while in uniform,” he said, trying not to smile. “I meant because of my history with the department.”
“Then I’m really not about to help it,” Stiles said. “We need to go talk to Deaton about the pest problem, see if he has any recommendations for getting rid of it.”
Derek sighed, “and you want me to ride with you?”
“Saves on gas. Your mom van is a gas guzzler,” Stiles teased, “and I don’t pay for her gas.”
“Her,” Derek asked incredulously.
“Yup, Miss Piggy,” Stiles said, snickering at his own joke as he tapped on the hood.
Derek sighed, looking at the ground and wondering why the fuck he put up with Stiles. “Let me tell the guys I’m headed out,” he said, turning to walk back to the shop.
“Your husband taking you out for lunch,” one of the shop employees asked Derek as he walked back in.
“Not my husband, I’m not married,” Derek grumbled, walking into the office for his phone.
“Fucking, fine. Your boyfriend, then.”
“Not my boyfriend either,” Derek said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. If you break something, it better belong to you and not a customer.”
Derek ignored the jeering as he walked back to the police cruiser. Like a bunch of toddlers, arguing with them made it into a game. He opened the passenger door and sat down, waiting for Stiles to drive off.
Derek looked at Stiles, finding him staring. “What?”
“Put your seatbelt on.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes,” Stiles said, waiting. “Put your seatbelt on.”
“You never wear a seatbelt, Stiles.”
Stiles gestured to himself. “I’m wearing it right now. We’re in the cruiser, put it on.”
Derek rolled his eyes but put on his seatbelt.
“Thank you,” Stiles sighed, backing up. “You know, you should really wear it all the time so Eli learns to wear his.”
“Stiles,” Derek sighed.
“What? I’m just saying, I don’t want to have to pull him over when he starts driving because he doesn’t wear one,” Stiles said, putting the car in drive and heading for Deaton’s.
“You’ll probably be pulling him over anyway with how much time he spends with you,” Derek scoffed.
“Even more reason for you to be a good influence,” Stiles shrugged, “plus, I hate to break it to you, you’re his dad. I’m just the babysitter.”
Derek frowned. “You’re not just the babysitter,” he said.
Stiles gave Derek a quick glance, hearing the change in tone. “Then what am I, Der? The not-uncle he stays the night with?”
“I had hoped you say yourself as part of the pack and…” Derek cut himself off.
“And what?”
“Nothing,” Derek mumbled, leaning over to turn up the radio.
🎶Cop cuties, cute n' on duty. Navy blue booties.🎶
“I hate you,” Derek grumbled, leaning back in his seat as Stiles laughed.
Derek and Stiles got out of the car at the animal clinic, making their plans for the evening as Stiles turned off his body cam.
“Well, if you want anything other than spaghetti, we’ll have to stop at the store before going to my place,” Stiles said, opening the door.
“Mine it is, then,” Derek said, walking inside. “Eli’s been on this thing where he won’t eat noodles ever since he saw that deer with worms.”
Stiles grimaced, “I think I might not eat noodles either, now.”
Deaton smiled at Stiles and Derek when they walked in. “I knew I’d be seeing you soon,” he commented, getting their attention.
“We’re actually trying this new thing where we ignore the supernatural happenings in this town. Much easier for us that way,” Stiles said sarcastically, hooking his thumbs in his duty belt.
“Don’t you look like your father,” Deaton said, giving Stiles a smile.
Stiles dropped his arms to his sides, not sure what to do with them that wouldn’t look more like his dad.
“What do you know about the dead animals,” Derek asked, his annoyance with Deaton loud and clear.
“I know less than Deputy Stilinski, here. Possibly less than yourself if your patrol has continued,” Deaton said.
“So you don’t know anything,” Derek asked again.
“I never said that,” Deaton retorted, “but I’m not sure how much help I can be.”
“Just tell us what you do know and we’ll tell you if it fills in any gaps,” Stiles said, settling on shoving his hands in his pockets.
“I can tell you this isn’t simple animal attacks. It’s quiet deliberately leaving these animals on the brink of death.”
“Why,” Derek asked.
“That, I’m not sure of,” Deaton said.
“Fine. What is it using to do it? Teeth? Knife? What?”
“Teeth, certainly, and Canine at that,” Deaton explained.
“Oh, wow. That really clears things up,” Stiles mumbled. “Dog, wolf, coyote? What kind of canine? And I know you know because you’re the one getting called to put them down.”
“It’s very difficult to tell the difference between the bite of a dog and that of a wolf. In fact—”
“Same ratio and number of teeth but wolves have thicker teeth, more developed molars, and longer canines,” Stiles said, cutting him off. “If you don’t want to help, let me look for myself.”
Deaton gave a polite smile, the one that you knew was hiding annoyance. “It seems to be a wolf, thought not a typical specimen.”
“Great. That’s all you had to say,” Stiles said, matching Deaton’s thinly vailed annoyance with his own. “Unless you have anything to add about a possible pattern or motive, we’re going to leave and figure it out.”
“You two have certainly become quite the duo, haven’t you,” Deaton hummed. “I will let you know if there are any more pertinent developments.”
“I don't know what you're trying to insinuate and I don't care, but I still don't like it,” Stiles said. “I have less than 20 minutes left in my break, so we're leaving.”
He grabbed Derek’s arm and started walking away. Derek followed after him, letting Stiles lead him back to the car by his arm.
They made it outside and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Why does he always have to be cryptic and minimally informative at best,” he complained. “I mean, come on! When we were teenagers, I kind of understood him not wanting to tell us everything but now? I’ve been dealing with this shit for over ten years— you’ve delt with it your whole life— but he acts like he can’t trust us.”
“Can I have my arm back,” Derek asked.
“Shit,” Stiles let go, “sorry. He pisses me off, acting all shady.” He rubbed his face. “I need food or I’m gonna stay pissed off.”
“You drive. I’ll call the diner,” Derek said, rolling his eyes.
“You’re my favorite right now,” Stiles sighed, unlocking the cruiser.
“Favorite what,” Derek asked, opening the passenger door.
“Well, it can’t be alpha since that would mean picking between you and Scott. Can’t be favorite werewolf or favorite Hale since Eli definitely holds those titles.” Stiles clicked his tongue as he thought. ”I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
Derek rolled his eyes, trying not to let Stiles catch his smile. “You’re ridiculous.”
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Stiles got off work at five and headed over to Derek’s house. He didn't bother to knock, just walking into the house. He said a quick hello and headed for the bathroom to change out of his uniform. He retuned to the kitchen once he’d changed into his sweats and a comfy t-shirt.
“Hi Stiles,” Eli said, looking up from his homework as Stiles walked in.
“Hey, kid,” Stiles said, walking over to th breakfast bar where Eli was working. “What are you doing now?”
Derek turned to watch the pair interact. It never failed to make Derek feel like he’d made the right choice in staying. They might not have a lot of family left but Eli had so many people that loved him than any ‘village’ ever could.
“Math,” Eli grumbled. “I have a whole page of multiplication and division!”
“You’ll be fine. You’re good at math,” Stiles said, ruffing Eli’s hair.
“But it’s boring and it takes too long,” Eli whined.
Derek sighed. “I have a feeling I’m going to hear all about that tonight,” he mumbled, catching Stiles’s smile at the comment.
“What time is your meeting,” Stiles asked, looking at him.
Sometimes it was hard to think when Stiles looked at him like that. It made this whole arrangement feel a little too domestic for friends. There was something in the way Stiles never had a second thought when it came to caring for Eli that had Derek wondering what things could be. Honestly, it was always had to thing around Stiles. Maybe that’s why Derek acted without thinking around him.
“Can I read my book instead,” Eli asked, looking rather miserable.
“That’s fine,” Derek said and Eli jumped down, running off to the living room. Derek sighed and turned his attention back to Stiles. “I meet with his teacher in an hour and a half,” he said. “There’s a pizza in the oven. The stove timer is on, so don’t burn the house down. Eli has this page of math and he has a book he needs to finish reading. You just need to sign the sheet when he finishes it. I’m going to go change.”
Stiles pulled out his laptop, looking over the reports of dead animals around town. Something just didn’t seem right. He made sure Eli was still reading every few minutes and decided to call Scott just to ramble about what was going on, trying to get the events straight for himself.
“Dude, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Scott said, not seeming to care. “Probably just some stupid teens playing a prank or something,” he said.
Derek walked in in time to hear the tail end of Scott’s comment. He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything about it.
“What,” Stiles asked is disbelief, remembering how many times Scott brushed things off before. “Scott, dude, the only person I know who would think leaving dead animals around town is a good prank is Peter, who is insane.”
“Maybe they got a little too into the occult,” Scott suggested, not really paying attention.
“That may be the dumbest theory I’ve heard from him yet,” Derek grumbled before ducking off to parent-teacher conference for Eli.
Stiles decided talking to Scott was no help and started to look into it on his own. He spent the night bouncing between staring at the list of reports and listening to Eli’s comments about the book he was reading.
There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason behind the reports and things were only getting worse.
Stiles and Derek were getting uneasy as the animals got larger and more frequent. Some opposums were killed. A racoon here and there. Next it was dogs. The station was on high alert for a dangerous predator and so was the pack.
Stiles laid on Derek’s couch, throwing a ball in the air and catching it while Derek cooked dinner. He was trying to go over his list of mental notes about the dead animals: where were they, how long had they been there, how many were dead when found, how many were only half-dead, would some of those dead ones have lived if found sooner, was there a pattern in how many of each were killed? It was too much to keep in his head.
“I’m grabbing paper from your office,” Stiles said, sitting up on the couch.
“Don’t go snooping,” Derek answered and Stiles smirked.
“Well now I want to…” he joked, getting up and making his way to the office.
He grabbed a hunk of the loose notebook paper and the cup of highlighters, pens, and pencils kept specifically for him. By the time Stiles made his way to the kitchen counter with the paper and pens, Derek had already set a cup of tea by his usual spot. Stiles sat down and started to scribble down his mental notes. One page was dedicated to locations of dead animals and Stiles kept adding more he’d seen himself along with the dates.
Derek looked at Stiles list. “Are these all the reports,” he asked, surprise by just how many there were.
“Huh? Oh,” Stiles took the marker out from between his teeth. “Yup. All the reports and the ones I’ve seen.” He turned the page so Derek could read it from the opposite side of the counter. “The red is reports and the yellow is mine.”
“You’ve seen… a lot. How have you found that many,” Derek asked, looking at him curiously.
Stiles shrugged, “I have no clue, dude. I feel like I see them everywhere I go…”
“Really,” Derek asked. Stiles met his eyes, biting the end of the marker. “I never see them, at least I don’t when I’m not with you. Maybe you draw them in,” he joked, picking up the paper to read the locations more closely.
Stiles smiled at Derek. “What can I say? I’m just a magnet for the supernatural.”
“A magnet for trouble, maybe,” Derek scoffed, giving the paper back and turned his attention to the food.
Days would pass where fewer animals were found. Some were worse, some where better but there was always dead animals in odd places. Stiles would add locations to the running list kept in Derek’s office, not that they were able to figure anything out.
Then it escalated.
Stiles had miraculously managed to get a parking spot in front of Eli’s school– a rarity especially on a Friday. The best part of driving the jeep was that it would fit in just about any parking spot he needed it to and that included squeezing between the pompous better-than-thou mom in the cheap Bentley parked like she owned the place and the very apologetic Mr. Jacobs who had to bring the truck with the hay bed to pickup.
Stiles had decided to sit the the hood of the jeep until the bell rang so Eli would see him past the large truck. He was on the phone with Derek as he drove back from the airport with Cora in the passenger seat. She had meant to be there yesterday but her flight got delayed and made her miss the layover. It was a whole shit show and Derek had to pick her up.
“We’ll only be another thirty minutes,” Derek sighed. “I’m sorry, Stiles.”
“No, it’s totally good. I don’t mind picking him up. Eli’s great! We’ll get a snack, do homework and then go to the park or something,” Stiles said.
“I– fuck… I know you don’t mind but I still feel like shit for not telling you sooner,” Derek grumbled.
“Dude, relax. Get some food, too. I can deal with you being hangry but not you and Cora being hangry,” Stiles said. “Eli and I will be fine for thirty extra minutes. He’ll probably watch Bluey.”
“You say that like you’re not also going to watch Bluey,” Derek teased.
“Hey, Bluey is awesome,” Stiles scoffed. “Drive safe, don’t die, and text me when you’re ten minutes out. We’ll need time to clean up after the total rager of a party we’re throwing.”
Derek stifled a laugh, “thank you Stiles. I feel better that Eli will be with you.”
“No problem, Der,” Stiles said with a smile.
“Der,” Cora snickered and Stiles paled. “Gag me with a spoon. Jesus, when did you two get so cozy?”
“You’ve been gone three years,” Derek argued.
“Why didn’t you tell me I was on speaker,” Stiles asked, going from pale to bright red from embarrassment.
“I’m driving, Stiles. My phone is connected to the car,” Derek said.
“I didn’t know you were in the mom van.”
“The camaro is inconvenient. Cora has a suitcase,” Derek said.
“I would feel less embarrassed by the camaro but, I have to admit, this is comfy and the heated seats are nice,” Cora hummed.
“Thank you,” Derek said exasperatedly.
“Still weird for you to have a mom van,” Stiles said. “Alright, you guys get food and I’ll text you when Eli and I get back to the house.”
“Bye Stiles.”
“Bye, Cora. Bye Derek,” Stiles said and hung up. He checked the time, playing a game on his phone while he waited.
When the bell rang, Stiles tucked his phone in his pocket. Annoyingly, since he was still in uniform, the pocket was smaller than his jeans. He stood up, watching for Eli’s class to head out. He saw Eli’s teacher bringing her class out and spotted Eli talking to one of his friends. Stiles smiled, waiting for Eli to look for him. They weren’t in any kind of a hurry so he let them talk.
Eli and his friend eventually parted when the other kid’s parent showed up. Eli looked around and saw Stiles waiting for him. He ran over and hugged Stiles.
“Stiles, guess what? I got a B on my spelling test,” Eli declared excitedly, letting go of Stiles.
“Holy cow, dude! You must have worked so hard,” Stiles said, holding up a hand to Eli. He gave him a high five and and Stiles smiled. “Alright, here’s the plan,” he said, placing a hand on Eli’s shoulder and guiding him to the passenger side of the jeep, “first, snack and homework. Then, we’ll go to the—”
A scream cut Stiles short. He grabbed Eli, pulling him close and getting to the ground. Stiles looked around, trying to listen to what was happening.
“Get under the jeep,” he whispered, pushing Eli to safety.
Stiles moved to see what was going on but staying as low as possible. Rather than everyone running, they seemed frozen in place. The teachers had moved all the students close to building but not inside. Looking around more Stiles saw it.
A deer that had been mauled by something and was near death was running across the elementary school court yard. Stiles watched as the deer’s skin ripped and it crumpled to the ground, blood and gore leaking into the grass.
“Stiles,” Eli whimpered, pulling his attention.
“Hey buddy,” Stiles said softly, pulling Eli out from under the jeep since there was no visible threat. He wiped tears off of Eli’s face and smiled at him. “It’s okay. Everyone is safe, just a deer running around and scaring people,” Stiles assured him and Eli nodded, calming down. “You did so good, dude. I’m so proud of you,” he smiled, hugging Eli tightly.
Stiles hadn’t wanted to scare him but he also wanted to keep him safe and if he needed a hug now, so be it. Stiles picked Eli up and pulled out his phone, calling his dad.
“I know someone’s probably already called but there’s a deer laying in the grass in front of the elementary school. Deaton can’t help this one, though,” Stiles said.
Sheriff Noah Stilinski sighed. “You’re about the tenth person to call… Why are you at the elementary school?”
“Picking up Eli,” Stiles said. He didn’t need to clarify why. Derek and Eli had become such an important part of his life, there was no need to. He had Eli a lot.
“Did he see anything,” Sheriff asked worriedly.
“Uh, no but I might have scared him a little bit…”
“Poor kid,” Sheriff mumbled. “There’s officers on the way to manage traffick and animal control for the rest. You get Eli home.”
“Will do. Talk to you later, dad,” Stiles said, hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket. He placed his free hand on Eli’s back. “Why don’t we just go home, buddy? I’ll even let you have a little ice cream.”
Stiles hurried Eli into the jeep, pulling out his phone to text Derek as he got in. Something was wrong.
He took Eli back to Derek’s house. Eli didn’t leave Stiles’s side for a second. He was still glued to Stiles when Derek and Cora got back.
Derek scooped Eli up in a hug, holding him close. Stiles took the chance and got up to go pee. He met Derek’s eyes when he stood up.
Derek mouthed ‘thank you’ as he held his kid.
Stiles smiled at him and headed for the bathroom. When he got back, he didn’t see anyone. He wandered into the kitchen for a drink and found Cora.
“Hey, where’s Derek and Eli,” Stiles asked, leaning on the counter.
She hummed, closing one cabinet and opening another. “They’re in Eli’s room. Derek’s trying to distract him with toys and shit.” Cora said, groaning when she couldn’t find whatever she was looking for. “Where the fuck does he keep the peanut butter?”
“Eli’s allergic to peanuts but there’s sunflower butter in the tall cabinet,” Stiles said. He walked over, opening the tall cabinet, moving a few cans and pulling out the jar of sunflower butter.
Cora looked at Stiles suspiciously. “You’re sure familiar with the kitchen,” she commented, taking the jar and setting it on the counter with the bread and jelly she’d already found. “Any particular reason for that?”
“Derek asks me to help out with Eli and I do,” Stiles said, grabbing a packet of fruit snacks and sitting at the counter.
“You must help a lot if you know exactly where the peanut butter is,” Cora suggested, looking down at her sandwich. There was no way these two idiots were just friends. Derek might be stupid but he couldn’t be so stupid to have not made a move in the three years she’d been gone.
He shrugged. “Guess you could say that. Eli likes pb&j after swimming so I figured it out.”
“You take him swimming a lot,” Cora asked, feigning curiosity.
“No so much anymore,” Stiles said, breathing out heavily as he thought. “He used to want to go swimming everyday. Recently, though, he’s been wanting to wander the preserve more but he still likes playing in the pond out there.” He smiled, adding “Der blames that on me but I doubt you guys didn’t do the same as kids. “
Cora hummed. “That nickname, he lets you call him that? You know, I used to call him Der-bear when we were little– he had this whole thing with carebears— but he doesn’t let me use my nickname for him so I’m just… confused as to why he’s okay with you using one.”
“Der-bear, really,” Stiles asked, huffing a laugh. “The nickname thing is a Derek question.”
“I only ask because you two seem,” Cora thought a moment, “closer than last time I was here.”
“Cora, if you want to ask me if I’m dating your brother then just ask,” Stiles said.
“I wasn’t—”
“I’ve had this conversation with Peter too, only he choose to comment about Derek, Eli, and I making a day trip to the beach and then about how I was the only adult Derek had one-on-one time with outside of work,” Stiles said. “You both seem to like dancing around the subject.”
“I am nothing like Peter. You take that back,” Cora scoffed. “And I was getting there.”
“Then just ask.”
“Fine. Are you dating my brother?”
“No,” Stiles said. “We’re friends and Derek trusts me to take care of Eli because we went through Hell and back.”
“But you have feelings for him,” Cora said and Stiles sighed.
“Even if I do—”
“You do.”
“Even if I do,” Stiles repeated, “it doesn’t matter. Derek and I are friends. I won’t risk losing him and Eli for a fling that could ruin everything. I wouldn’t do that to them.”
Cora nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich. Without the discussion to distract her, she realized how weird the sunflower peanut butter tasted. After a few bites, she couldn't finish it and dropped the food back onto the plate. “This tastes awful,” she mumbled.
“Ya, the ‘sunbutter’ kind of tastes like dirt,” Stiles said, making air quotes for the name as he said it.
“I didn’t know Eli was allergic to peanuts. How did I not know,” Cora asked, concern in her voice.
“Oh, it scared the shit out of us,” Stiles huffed. “The first time he had peanuts, he was fine. The next time he had a little bit of a rash but he’d also had dragon fruit for the first time so we didn’t think it was the peanuts butter. But the last time? He broke out it hives and was coughing…” he shook his head. “We drove him to the hospital– Derek was doing his whole internal freak out where he looks fine to everyone else but we know– and they gave him a shot. They watched him until they were sure he was good and then sent us home. Little shit went right to sleep.”
Cora rolled her eyes, “I bet Derek was still freaking out.”
“Oh, ya. Big time,” Stiles said. “I don’t think either of us slept. I didn’t know werewolves could have allergies.”
“Once he starts shifting, it should go away,” Cora explained.
“Derek said that too but I’m not sure he’ll ever let Eli have peanuts again.”
“Derek used to be allergic to dogs before he grew out of it,” Cora said, poking at her sandwich disappointedly.
Stiles watched Cora’s face, looking for any sign of it being a joke. “Derek, who can now fully shift into a wolf, used to be allergic to dogs,” he asked, devolving in to laughter. “That’s fucking awesome.”
“Mom had to make a rule about shifting in the house because of it,” she added.
Once Eli had calmed down and was no longer stuck to Derek or Stiles, they discussed what they should do. Stiles made the suggestion of going to the school and Derek agreed. Cora, after learning what was going on, offered to watch Eli while they went to the school later that evening.
When they got there, the dead deer was gone but the blood was harder to remove. They had tried to wash it away but Derek way still able to follow the smell of blood. Stiles made a joke about Derek sticking his head out the window and got a glare in return. They decided to stay in the jeep until they had to get out since it was getting dark. Stiles drove slowly, letting Derek give directions based on the smell.
“I can’t believe I wasn’t there,” Derek mumbled, kicking himself internally.
“You couldn’t have known,” Stiles said. “Besides, it’s not like you could have done anything. He didn’t see anything. He just got scared and that was honestly my fault for over reacting.”
Derek nodded. “Thank you for protecting him.”
“Like I’d let anything hurt him,” Stiles scoffed. “Hell, I was fully ready to take a bullet for him today.” Stiles licked his lips as the thought sunk in. He was completely ready to put himself in front of a shooter, unarmed, to protect Eli.
“Are you okay,” Derek asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.
“Ya, I’m good. It’s just the first time in a long time I really thought my life could be on the line, ya know?”
“Stop here,” Derek said and Stiles pulled over.
The lights of the jeep pointed at a wooded area not too far from the school and Stiles groaned.
“Always the fucking trees,” Stiles groaned. “This is a new shirt. And there’s probably ticks.”
Stiles turned off the jeep and they got out. He walked around to the back and Derek stood close by. He opened the jeep and grabbed his bat, handing it to Derek, and pulled out a jacket, his old red one.
“The fact that that still fits you is…” Derek looked over Stiles, how he had packed muscle onto his thin frame, “crazy…”
Stiles closed the back of the jeep and took his bat back from Derek. “The fact that it has no rips or holes is crazy,” he said. Stiles started to to walk towards the trees. Derek grabbed his arm, stopping him. Stiles looked at the hand on his arm and up to Derek’s eyes. “What?”
Derek’s mouth hung open as his brain caught up to his actions. “It’s been a while since the last time we did this, so let me take the lead.”
“Only because near death is my least favorite type of experience,” Stiles agreed.
They started into the trees, arms brushing past each other as they walked. They both noticed how close they were but didn’t move away. Being close was comforting, safe. Derek was also able to keep Stiles from tripping on downed branches and holes, especially as they walked deeper into the woods.
Stiles was about to pop off some snarky comment or another when Derek stopped moving. Knowing what that meant by now, Stiles stopped too. He saw Derek tense up like a dog with its hackles raised and he tightened the grip on his bat.
“What is it, Der,” Stiles whispered, looking around for a sign of movement.
Derek started walking again, holding a hand out for Stiles to wait where he was, not that he listened. As they walked, the smell of blood got stronger and was joined by decay. Stiles grimaced, pulling his jacket up to cover his nose.
“What the fuck,” Stiles muttered, his eyes finding the source of the smell.
In front of them was a dead coyote that had been well snacked on and a flat rock with a bloody blob that the flies had taken too on top. As Derek looked over the dead coyote, Stiles inched closer to the red blob.
“It stinks of a werewolf. An omega, I’d guess,” Derek said, keeping his voice low.
“So we don’t have to worry about a pack,” Stiles asked, his voice muffled by the jacket and his pinched nose.
“No but its violent,” Derek grumbled. “It ripped out this coyote’s heart.”
The rock looked like it had been placed intentionally, almost like a table. The smell got significantly worse as he got closer. Shooing away the flies, the piece of bloody meat was revealed.
“Ah, shit,” Stiles winced. “Well, I found the heart.”
Derek was at Stiles’s side in seconds, a little closer than necessary, to look at what he’d found. They were so close that Stiles could feel his hood brushing against Derek’s shoulder. If he’d noticed, Derek didn’t move away. They’d become rather comfortable in each others personal space.
“Looks cult-ish if you ask me,” Stiles said, leaning his bat against his leg so he had free hands to pull his phone out and snap a picture. He wanted to be able to reference the details later when he did more research into types of rituals. It was the first solid lead they’d gotten so far.
Derek heard something and turned to look around. It was a small noise, like a twig snapping a ways off. It was probably just a rabbit or animal that was supposed to be out there but considering where they were… He felt on edge. They were taking a risk being out here, just the two of them. If the rouge wolf was out here and looking to pick a fight, they were open on all sides. While the dark wouldn’t effect the wolves as much, it put Stiles at a disadvantage. Derek kept looking around, listening as Stiles mumbled about what it might be and what the display could mean.
A flash of blue caught Derek’s attention. He tensed, watching closely. The blue glow settled becoming a clear set of eyes. Eyes that met Derek’s. The blood red of his own eyes showing through. They needed to leave.
He grabbed Stiles’s jacket, looking around intently. “We need to go,” he said, not giving Stiles time to react before pulling him away.
“Shit,” Stiles huffed, stumbling over his own feet. “Wait, Derek, I dropped my bat.”
“Leave it. I’ll get you a new one,” he growled, moving faster.
Derek kept looking behind them, cursing under his breath.
“What’s chasing us,” Stiles huffed, out of breath from half running, half being dragged behind Derek. He kept tripping as he tried to keep up.
At some point, he gave up on Stiles running to keep up. Derek hardly paused, throwing Stiles over his shoulder, and kept moving. They got back to the jeep in what was surely record time, even for them. Derek shoved Stiles in the passenger seat and got in the driver’s seat. He turned on the lights, watching.
“Give me the keys,” Derek said frantically, “now, Stiles!”
Derek watched the treeline carefully, growing more nervous by the second. Stiles dug through his pockets, trying to find them. Not in his jacket. Not in his back pocket. Left… Right… Right!
“Keys,” Stiles shouted, shoving them into Derek’s hand.
He shoved the keys in the ignition and started the jeep. The engine clicked as he turned the key, not starting.
“Come on, Roscoe” Stiles mumbled, looking between he trees and Derek. “Come on. Come on— OH FUCK,” he yelled, watching as a dark shape came running out of the trees.
The engine turned over, starting just in time. Derek threw the jeep in reverse, cursing the clutch as he slowly sped up.
“It’s catching up,” Stiles said, watching the werewolf following them while Derek watched behind them, driving in reverse as fast as he could.
When they got to the first intersection, Derek used the opportunity to whip the jeep around. He turned hard, shifting to neutral to control the spin. He shifted into drive and took off.
Stiles sat in the passenger seat, looking at Derek. “Where the fuck did you learn that,” he asked, not sure if he was terrified or turned on. Maybe a little bit of both…
“I was on the run from the FBI,” Derek said, keeping an eye on the dark road behind them.
Derek had deemed it important that they figure out what was going on tonight and make a game plan. They had been too close to the werewolf and it now had their scents. It knew who they were.
They picked up Eli and made their way to Stiles’s apartment. It wasn’t far from where Derek’s loft had been years before, meaning it wasn’t exactly the most secure area. Nonetheless, Stiles taught Eli to play chess while Derek went out to get stuff for dinner since Stiles’s fridge was near empty– that tended to happen when they ate at Derek’s as much as they had been.
Elli got bored well before Derek got back so Stiles handed over his switch. With Eli sufficiently distracted, Stiles pulled the hanging cork board out, using a map of the town to pinpoint the recent troubles of Beacon Hills. Things just didn’t seem to line up. Stiles looked at the map of where the animals had been left: his dad’s house, the grocery store, the diner, the police station, the elementary school, the pool, the hospital, Deaton’s vet office… The places where the dead animals were appearing didn’t have an obvious pattern.
When Derek got back with groceries, he found Stiles looking between his laptop and the cork board and Eli playing on the switch in the other room.
“Did you figure anything out,” Derek asked, setting the bags on the counter.
Stiles hummed, not really in agreement or disagreement, more in the way of acknowledging he heard but was too preoccupied to answer. Derek rolled his eyes at the response and started cooking, waiting for Stiles to pull his mind out of the research.
Derek was almost done cooking when Stiles seemed to come out of the digital world with a start.
“I feel like I’m going crazy,” Stiles said, his eyes finding Derek in the kitchen. “I mean, there’s a lot of rituals surrounding the heart, and I mean a lot but nothing that this matches. There was not runes, not pictures, nothing! Plus, a lot of rituals that we would actually need to worry about require a human heart and I’m pretty sure that was the coyote’s heart!”
Derek remembered the smell, well. He waited for the break in words before adding, “it was the coyote’s heart.”
“Great, then what the fuck is going on,” Stiles asked rhetorically.
“Stiles, you can’t say that! That’s a bad word,” Eli said, looking between Derek and Stiles wide eyed. “I’m joking. I know you say bad words. So does dad,” he said, walking over to the table.
Derek looked down at the counter, taking a deep breath, before looking at Stiles. “That’s your fault,” he said as Stiles tried not to laugh. “You think it’s funny? Then you get to deal with that when he’s a teenager.”
Stiles scoffed. “Oh, please. I have heard enough from Cora and Peter to know you were a handful in high school, too.”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response other than to say, they are both unreliable narrators,” Derek argued, turning to get Eli’s plate which consisted mac and cheese and hot dogs– seemingly the only thing the kid ate. “Eat your food and then grab your book out of your backpack. You’ve had more than enough video game time.”
“Jeez, dad, you’re so boring,” Stiles mumbled, making Eli smile. “Listen to your dad, Eli. You don’t want to make him mad. Trust me, I know. I used to make him really mad a lot.”
“Used to,” Derek shot back questioningly.
“Yup, because now you willingly come over and cook me dinner,” Stiles said with a grin. “I annoyed you until you l—” He cut his words short, making eye contact with Derek. He seemed amused, though it didn’t look all that different from his normal unamused face. “Alright, Eli. You have to tell us all about your day now,” Stites said, moving to sit at the table with Eli while Derek finished cooking.
Scott finally called back and Stiles started to explain what was going on, having to switch to a video call so Scott could get the “full understanding” with the help of the cork board he had set up in the middle of his apartment.
“Then Derek and I found the dead coyote in the trees by Eli’s school and its heart had been ripped out and displayed on a rock like it was a table! I was trying to look up what might be happening but it didn’t have any of the needed symbols or killing method for a ritual sacrifice,” Stiles explained, seeing Derek walk to the kitchen out of the corner of his eye.
“Have you stopped to think that I might be right,” Scott asked. “If it doesn’t seem like a ritual, then it might just be some teenagers who—”
“What about the deer, Scott? That was planned. It wanted us to go looking,” Stiles argued. “So, I did some more research and I kept seeing stuff about how killing and offering food is a pretty normal habit when it comes to mating behaviors in predators and— oh, thanks Der,” Stiles said, stopping his ramble to take the pate of food from Derek.
“Eli’s asleep in your room,” Derek said, casting a quick glare at Scott on the computer screen.
“Shit, am I being too loud? I didn’t wake him up, did I,” Stiles asked with a mouth full of food.
Derek shook his head, looking over Stiles and then the board. “Not yet. You should have just used my office. The house was build with werewolf hearing in mind.”
Stiles nodded, “I know but I didn’t want to make a mess—”
“Swallow before you talk,” Derek grumbled, a mix of disgust and humor in his voice.
Stiles rolled his eyes, swallowing the mouthful of food that would rival Scooby Doo. “Mine, Dad. Don’t ground me,” he joked, meeting Derek’s eyes.
Something in the way Derek looked at him made his stomach feel like it was trying to digest itself. They had become close. Sharing a meal and spending time at each other’s place had become normal. Derek and Eli had become a big part of Stiles’s life
“Uh, guys,” Scott said awkwardly after a long stretch of, what was for him, very uncomfortable silence.
Stiles’s eye snapped to his computer, remembering that Scott was, in fact, still on the phone. He held the plate out to Derek, nearly choking on the food still in his mouth as he tried to start talking again as if nothing had happened.
Derek put Stiles’s plate on the table next to his own. He sat down to eat, his eyes casting up to watch Stiles’s wild gesturing as he explained his theories to Scott. Quick glances at Stiles soon turned into outright staring. Derek shook his head, going back to eating, and if a small smile found it’s way to his lips, then so be it.
~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~
Stiles found himself laying on his couch, wanting nothing more than to crash but his apartment felt too empty and quiet. Derek had taken Eli home to go to bed a few hours ago, leaving everything simultaneously too quiet and too loud at the same time. He liked having them around, it made the apartment feel less lonely.
He was trying to gather the energy to peel himself off the couch for a shower when the doorbell buzzed it’s broken noise.
Stiles sat up in surprise. Who the fuck would be ringing the doorbell at– he looked at the time– one in the god damned morning? Anyone who he’d expect knew the doorbell was crap and both his dad and Derek had a key– for ‘emergencies’ only– and would normally just knock before walking in.
He got up, going to grab his bat and remembering it was gone. He mentally cursed, feeling a bit like a sitting duck without it. He walked closer to the door and looked out the peephole but nobody was there. That didn’t sit well with him. Stiles made sure the door was locked and decided this was worth having a weapon in case shit went sideways.
When he returned to the door with his gun– the one assigned to him as a deputy– he looked through the peephole again and, again, there was nobody. He unlocked the door, opening it slowly. His stomach dropped when the door’s movement made something wooden fall. His bat.
Stiles looked around cautiously before kneeling to grab the bat and closing the door to his apartment quickly. Relocking the door, he set his gun down on the counter and looked over the bat. It was his all right, the wear and tear proved that. He turned it over in his hands, finding a heart carved into it. He looked at it closer, tracing it with his finger. It was roughly carved and had jagged edges, like it had been done with claws instead of a knife. Comparing it with the other damage on the bat only seemed to confirm the unsettling conclusion.
Almost on instinct, he called Derek.
“You’ll never guess what just appeared outside my door,” Stiles said. He was met by silence so he kept talking. “Either I’m a wizard and learned how to summon things without words or our new buddy returned my bat. And, get this, carved a heart into it.”
Stiles heard a heavy breath and sheets ruffling on the other end. “Are you okay,” Derek asked, his voice rough with sleep.
“Fuck, did I wake you up,” Stiles cringed, looking at the time again. “Sorry, Der. I’m fine. It’s all good, just a little odd.”
Derek sighed and the sheets ruffled again. “Do you want to stay here,” he asked and Stiles’s stomach did flips.
“No, I’ll be okay,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. “Just thought you’d want to know I had a visitor.”
“You should—” Derek yawned— “mountain ash the doors and windows.”
Stiles nodded, grabbing his gun and walking to his bookshelf in search of the little box. “Doing it now. I’ll call you in the morning. You’ll be the first one I tell if I die.”
Derek hummed. “Bye Stiles.”
“Bye Der,” Stiles mumbled, hanging up.
Without Derek on the other end of the phone, Stiles was suddenly hyper aware of how alone he was. Of how dark his apartment was. He opened the box and took a handful of mountain ash and set the box back on the shelf.
Something in the back of his head screamed he was in danger, telling him not to turn around. He could hear how his heart rate picked up and how his breathing matched it. He felt like someone was watching him.
Stiles took a breath and flipped off the safety his gun, biting back the fear.
“Alright, motherfucker. I have mountain ash, a gun loaded with wolfsbane bullets, and an itchy trigger finger. I’d suggest not fucking with me, tonight,” Stiles said.
The words wouldn’t due much but it made him feel better, less like he was being watched.
He spun around, making a visual sweep of the room. His apartment was so quiet he could hear his own pulse. Looking around, he remembered just how many windows he had. Any other time, the light would be great but right now it had him cursing under his breath. He kept the safety off as he spread the mountain ash across every entry to the apartment. He also did his bedroom and closet doors for good measure. Before he went to bed, he flicked on all the lights to do one more sweep, including checking under his bed.
He felt a little childish when he laid down but it was good for his sanity.
Stiles woke up to his phone ringing and banging on his front door. He sat up groggily, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. He grabbed his phone and walked to his front door. He opened the door, finding Derek. He tried to walk it and got knocked on his ass by the mountain ash barrier.
“Fuck, sorry,” Stiles mumbled, kicking the ash and helping Derek up. “Are you okay?”
“Are you,” Derek asked, sounding almost out of breath. He grabbed Stiles’s arms as if to make sure he was really there and in one piece. He looked panicked, still in his bed clothes.
“Ya, I’m good,” Stiles mumbled. “I’m fucking exhausted, though. Why’d you wake me up?”
Derek looked at Stiles like he was crazy. “You called me last night saying you had a— visitor,” he whispered the last word, pulling Stiles back into the apartment.
He closed the door behind them, not letting go of Stiles. Derek’s eyes looked Stiles’s over, making sure he wasn’t hurt. Somehow, the fact the Stiles wasn’t wearing a shirt didn’t cross his mind and neither did their proximity. Derek had pulled Stiles closer when they moved inside. There was hardly a foot of distance between them. It would have been so easy to just lean in…
Derek let go of Stiles, chewing his lip as the thoughts stuck around, and started to walk around the apartment, looking at each window.
Stiles felt like he was still dreaming. None of the last few seconds made sense outside of being a dream. By the time he looked up, Derek was walking further into the apartment. “Hey, my bedroom—” Stiles sighed, watching Derek bounce off yet another mountain ash barrier. “Too late.”
Stiles walked over, breaking the ash line so Derek could walk through. He nervously watched as Derek searched for any sign of the other werewolf. He didn’t find anything and walked back over to Stiles.
“All clear,” he asked and Derek nodded, once more in his personal space. “Great. Can I—”
“Where’s the bat,” Derek asked.
Stiles blinked trying to remember. “Uh, by the door, I think. Where it usually is.”
Derek turned and walked off. Stiles, not having anything else to do, followed him. Derek picked up the bat, examining it.
“Like I said, it’s my bat,” Stiles shrugged, crossing his arms. “They carved a heart into it but— AH! You just broke my bat,” Stiles said in disbelief, staring at Derek who had half the bat in each hand. “That was my fucking bat!”
Derek growled, throwing the broken pieces in the trash. “I already told you, I’ll get you a new one.”
“I don’t want a new bat. I want my bat,” Stiles objected. “I went to hell and back with that thing! It has a burnt chunk from Parish! A ring from the ghost rider’s lasso! Claw marks from– well– everything! I think you even put some marks on it.”
Derek grabbed Stiles’s flailing hands, holding them tightly in his. “Stiles,” he said firmly, standing so close they were practically on top of of each other, “you don’t want it anymore.” His tone reminded Stiles of how he’d explain to Eli something he wanted was dangerous. That same mix of worry and stress and fear he’d end up hurt in Derek’s voice. “You don’t take anything it gives you or it will follow you. Accepting the gifts is accepting it.”
From then on, both Stiles and Derek were on high alert. This wolf had found where Stiles lived, had gotten into the apartment building, and all the way to Stiles’s door. If it had wanted to do something, it could have. If it wanted to get in, it would have. Sure, Stiles wasn’t helpless but he also wasn’t prepared for a random attack. And, personally, Stiles really didn’t feel like having to defend his life in his boxers.
It became a routine. Every night, Stiles would call Derek when he got off work and headed home, talking to him as he checked his apartment and laid down mountain ash. Every morning, Derek would swing by Stiles’s apartment before Stiles would leave for his shift. Every morning he found nothing. There was no sign nor scent of the other wolf. It seemed to be weighing on Derek. Each day he looked more tired than the last.
Derek glared at the large windows in Stiles’s bedroom, one which that let out to the fire escape. “I don’t like this,” he grumbled.
“I’m not the biggest fan of it either, Der,” Stiles mumbled, only half awake. “I’m fucking exhausted because all of my dreams– nightmares, really– have been about getting mauled in my sleep. You're back to being your old self, meaning you growl at anything that breathes wrong and—”
“I meant the fire escape,” Derek snapped and Stiles had to remind himself that pissed off Derek was, in fact, not attractive. “Easy access for anyone willing to come looking.”
“So, the shit you used to pull,” Stiles asked, teasingly. Normally Derek would take it in good humor and throw something similar back at him. “You do remember that the fact that my bedroom window at dad's house wouldn’t lock was your fault?”
Derek glared at Stiles, not in the mood for jokes. “If you remember, I fixed it. Just like I fixed your jeep.”
“Why are you so pissed off,” Stiles asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought we were past the whole taking your anger out on innocent parties thing?”
“Shut up,” Derek growled, walking back towards the living room.
Stiles, gritted his teeth, pretending to strangle Derek as he walked away. He followed Derek to the living room
“You’re being a fucking asshole, you know that,” Stiles huffed. Derek turned to glare at him. Not attractive. Nope. Not at all. “I didn’t do anything to deserve you treating me like a clueless teenager all over again. Go be shitty to Peter, he more than deserves it!”
“Peter has been watching Eli,” Derek said. “I come here before he wakes up and I go on patrol after he’s asleep. Someone has to watch him.”
“What about Cora,” Stiles asked.
“She’s already gone. Can’t stand to be in here more than a few days,” Derek grumbled, the hurt of his sister leaving over and over thinly veiled.
“You’ve go to be fucking kidding, right? Of course she can’t stand it here! I’m surprised you can,” Stiles said. “I mean, after every shitty thing this town has thrown at you, why do you stay? What about Eli?”
“Eli is fine,” Derek growled.
“What makes you so sure,” Stiles asked. “I mean, I doubt you ever thought what happened to your family would happen and your pack—”
Derek shoved Stiles against the wall, holding him there. “Stop. Talking.” Stiles could see the anger in Derek’s eyes but he could see the hurt behind it too.
He was trying to meet Derek’s eyes but his lips were distracting. They were so close, he could feel Derek’s breath, pulling Stiles’s eyes lower. This isn’t attractive, he reminded himself. Fuck, he felt like a stupid hormonal teenager again. He was too caught in his own reaction to notice Derek’s very similar one.
“A bit familiar, isn’t this,” Stiles asked in a whisper. There was no need to be louder with how close they were. “Earth to Derek. Are you planning to kiss me or kill me? Shoving me against the wall is giving mixed signals.”
Derek didn’t say anything, rather he furrowed his brow in what was somewhere between constipation and thinking which Stiles knew was reserved for things he refused to talk about. He let go of Stiles, backing up to straighten his jacket. Derek looked out the window, gathering his thoughts, and Stiles waited expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” Derek grumbled.
Stiles raised an eyebrow. “That’s it,” he asked. “You pull out the old douche-bag act on someone who is supposed to be your friend and all you say is sorry? Not even going to record it? Grab a ukulele and make a sorry-not-sorry type song?”
Derek huffed a laugh and looked at Stiles, “what do you want, a cake?”
“Actually, yes! Apology baked goods would be great,” Stiles said, crossing his arms. “Now, why are you acting all,” he gestured to Derek, “weird? Is it lack of sleep because, seriously Der, you look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m fine,” Derek grumbled.
“Dude, call into work for a day. You look exhausted and it’s not like you’re going to fire yourself for it,” Stiles said.
“I said, I’m fine,” Derek repeated. “And don’t call me dude.”
“I don’t believe you,” Stiles said stubbornly. “Go home, take Eli to school, and get some sleep.”
“Stiles—”
“Derek, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said, crossing his arms. “Try me. I have wolfsbane and mountain ash. You’ll get some sleep one way or another.”
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Stiles walked out of the police station, heading to the jeep after a shit load of paper work. He was so tired, his eyes were starting to blur and it was already getting dark. He wanted to kick himself for parking the jeep in the back lot as the cold wind bit at his skin. It was a long cold walk to the jeep.
When his eyes found the jeep he groaned. “Fuck me,” he grumbled, staring at what he was 90% sure was blood on the hood and a bag of something.
How the fuck was this his life? He trudged closer and, upon closer inspection, found the blood streaks formed a heart. The bag sat in the middle of the heart and was soaked in blood. Stiles ran a hand through his hair, feeling like pulling it out. Instead, he pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Derek.
Stiles used a pen to drag the bag off the hood and onto the ground. He grabbed a water bottle out of the jeep and stabbed a hole it the lid. He sprayed the water on the hood, getting most of the blood off. It made him uncomfortable that it came off so easily, it meant it was fresh. He debated if it would be worse to look in the bag or toss it and go on not knowing. Stiles decided to look, the anxiety that it could be– like– his dad’s severed fingers winning over the risk of being seen as ‘accepting’ the gift.
He grabbed the top of the bag, trying to touch it as little as possible. Inside was a pile of wolfsbane flowers, a folded piece of paper, and a ring coated in dirt and dried blood.
Stiles unfolded the paper, reading it. His eyes went wide and he shoved it all back in the bag and threw it in the jeep.
He jumped in and called Derek. He started to drive, impatiently waiting for Derek to answer the phone.
“Stiles? What’s going on,” Derek asked tiredly, his recent habit on twenty hour days wearing on him.
“I found a little gift display in the jeep after I left work,” Stiles told him. “I think out forest friend likes me.”
“What kind of gift,” Derek asked, feeling frozen in place. Stiles could heard the stress in his voice.
“Well, it drew a heart on my hood in what I assume was it’s own blood since it picked me lovely bouquet of wolfsbane flowers. It wrote me an interesting poem— the kind a stalker would leave– and, oh ya, a fucking engagement ring!”
“Come here. It could follow you home,” Derek told him.
“What about Eli,” Stiles asked, driving away from the station lest his new buddy be hanging around still.
“I’ll call Peter,” Derek said without hesitation. He had to be worried if he was willing to ask Peter for help. “It’s less likely to do something in my house.”
Stiles made the turn for Derek’s house. “Ya, okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“I’ll wait for you,” Derek said. He’d wait for Stiles. He’d wait in more ways than he’d admit.
Stiles didn’t hang up. He didn’t have anything more to say, he just didn’t want to. Derek didn’t hang up either. They just let the silence rest between them as Stiles drove. Stiles didn’t hang up until he was pulling into the driveway.
Derek walked over to the jeep, opening the door for Stiles. He took the bloody bag from Stiles’s hands and stayed close as he got out. He kept a hand on Stiles’s back as they walked to the front door.
Once Stiles was inside, Derek stopped and looked around. They were being watched and it wasn’t happy but neither was he. Derek walked inside, locking the door behind him. If it wanted a fight, it’d be on Derek’s terms.
Stiles was pacing in the living room, his hands visibly shaking. He was freaking out, piecing things together in his head. All the dead animals were found in places he went to. There were dead animals at the grocery store he went to but not the one across town. They were found at the diner but not that chinese place he refused to go to. They were found at Eli’s school, at the police station, all along Stiles’s patrol route, everywhere he went regularly.
“Stiles,” Derek said softly, dropping the bag on the coffee table. It was like he hadn’t said anything, like Stiles didn’t hear him. “Stiles,” he said more firmly, walking closer to him. He touched Stiles’s arm and finally got his attention.
He was looking at Derek with wide eyes. Before Derek could say anything, Stiles started to ramble. “It’s me. I’m the pattern. That’s why it was at my apartment and I keep finding the dead animals. It’s after me and I came here. It could have followed me. What if it followed me? What if it tries something? What about Eli? Fuck, Eli’s not safe with me. Not safe with me here. What if it tries to hurt Eli because of me? What if it hurts you? I can’t stay here! I can’t go to my dad’s! I’m putting everyone in danger. I have to leave. Derek, it—”
“Stiles,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles by his arms to hold him in place. “Breathe. It’s not going to come in here. It’d have to be insane and damn near suicidal to challange me in my own home.”
The smell of anxiety and guilt circled Stiles like a hurricane. The smell was bitter, it stung Derek’s nose. He hated when Stiles got worked up like this. He swore Stiles’s chemosignals were stronger than other people’s. Stiles didn’t know the definition of the word subtle and neither did his emotions. He felt things in the extreme or not at all. Derek could never decide if it was the ADHD or if it was just who Stiles was. Maybe it wasn’t either, maybe Derek was just paying too much attention to him. Stiles met Derek’s eyes and the swirl of emotion started to dissipate.
It was leaving dead animals all along Stiles’s path except at Derek’s shop and Derek’s house. It never got close or left ‘gifts’ when he was with Derek. It was everywhere… except where Derek was.
“It’s after me but wonn’t come near you,” Stiles said. “Oh, I bet it’s real pissed off right now…”
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Stiles felt calm for the first time in weeks. It was just him, Eli, and Derek having a movie night like they normally would.
They'd made homemade pizza– aka they made the dough from a packet and added the toppings themselves instead of a frozen one– for dinner and made popcorn afterwards. Eli had picked out a movie and they'd all sat on the couch together like normal. Eli didn't even make it through the first half of the movie before falling asleep, leaning on Stiles.
Stiles played with Eli’s hair as he slept, watching the movie in the brief moment of peace. He wanted to keep these memories forever, the times where everything just felt right. With Eli asleep tucked into his side and Derek quietly laughing at the movie. If it could last forever, he'd happily deal with the popcorn kernels stuck in his teeth. It was moments like that when it all seemed to make sense.
When the movie ended, Derek got up and took their mugs to the kitchen. He came back with fresh tea for Stiles and himself. He started another movie and sat down on the couch again.
“I’ve missed doing this,” Stiles said. “Things have been too…”
“Too much like the past,” Derek offered.
“Ya. Reminiscent but not in a good way,” Stiles decided.
Derek hummed, pulling Eli’s blanket up. “We all needed this. A night where things are back to normal,” he sighed, pushing Eli’s hair off his face.
Eli’s nose scrunched in his sleep and he turned his head into Stiles, curling in closer.
Stiles’s smiled, wrapping an arm around the sleeping kid. “It’s weird to think that this is our normal now. I mean, you’re a dad. I’m a cop. Scott’s in LA doing god knows what. Scott used to be my best friend and now I couldn’t even tell you the street he lives on but I could find your house blindfolded,” he huffed, trying to laugh it off. “It’s crazy to think that, out of everything, you and Eli are the most important things in my life,” he said, the words coming out before he could think them through. “Shit, sorry, That was weird.”
“You and Eli,” Derek said, nodding. “You two are the most important parts of my life.”
Stiles looked at Derek. He felt like his heart was going to explode. “Really? Not Cora or Malia or even Peter?”
Derek raised an eyebrow. “Stiles, do you realize how much of an impact you’ve made on my life? You’ve helped me raise Eli. When I bought the garage, you watched Eli every day so I could get things sorted out.”
“What else where you going to do,” Stiles asked, brushing it off. “He was, what, one?”
“Eli and I lived in your apartment when construction on this house got delayed and then you helped us move in here.”
“Well, ya. Keeping a three-year-old were-toddler in a hotel would have sucked and you needed help,” Stiles shrugged.
“You call in favors and switch your shifts around whenever I need you to pick Eli up from school or drop him off,” Derek says “You bought him toys and games that stay at your apartment or your dad’d house.”
“My dad loves Eli! He says he gets to have all the fun of having a kid without the hard parts.”
“Eli calls your dad grandpa,” Derek said, not sure how Stiles kelp acting like this was all nothing.
Stiles paused. “Okay, you got me on that one… Why are you bringing this all up?”
“I just…” Derek stared back at Stiles, not sure what to say. He didn’t want to ruin everything but, he wondered, would saying it really ruin anything? “I don’t think you understand how important you are.” Maybe later. Maybe he could say it when things weren’t so… heavy.
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Stiles was staring at his laptop screen when he felt a person behind him. He was in the middle of typing something out, not at a point where he could stop, and gave an acknowledging hum when a hand rested on the back of his chair. They didn’t say anything, waiting for Stiles to stop typing.
“Hey, Der. I didn’t hear you come in,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He practically jumped out of his skin when he looked up. He did jump out of the chair, staring at what was not Derek and was most definitely the werewolf they’d been attempting to track. “You’re not Derek.”
The werewolf’s smile fell. “Why do you always bring him up,” it growled. “You should forget about him. You don’t need him. You need me.”
“What,” Stiles asked, trying to move towards his bookshelf where his box of mountain ash sat.
The werewolf growled and rushed to grab Stiles. It grabbed him by the neck, shoving him against the bookshelf. Stiles winced, the wooded shelves pushing into his back.
Stiles’s hand reached out, trying for the box of mountain ash just out of reach. The werewolf snatched Stiles’s wrist, slamming it against the wooded bookshelf. Stiles lost his breath at the sharp pain, near certain his wrist was broken.
“Don’t do that. Don’t try to keep me out again. I don’t like it when you do that.” Its expression softened into a grin, a calloused finger running along Stiles’s face. “So pretty. My pretty boy,” it cooed. “I finally got you alone without that nuisance. I have you all to myself.”
“What do you want,” Stiles choked up.
The werewolf smiled. “What do I want? I want you, silly. You’re mine and that mut of yours was keeping you from me. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Nothing can stop love, not even your pet.”
“You mean Derek?”
“Him and his half-breed,” it hummed, their fingers tightening around Stiles’s neck in their anger. “They’ll never love you like I do, nobody ever will and if he’d kept out of it, we would have been together sooner.” Their grip loosened as Stiles started to turn red from the lack of oxygen. “Oh, sorry my love. I don’t mean to be too rough on you. You really shouldn’t anger me, though.”
“What’d you do to them,” Stiles hissed.
“Nothing, yet,” the wolf growled it’s grip around Stiles’s neck tightening, cutting off his air, “but if you keep bringing them up I might. You might as well forget about them now, got it?”
Stiles bit his tongue, nodding, and the grip around his neck loosened.
“Good, because in the morning we’re getting far away from here and them,” the wolf said, sounding pleased. “As for now, well, I think I’ve been very patient with you. I brought you food and gifts. I’m even willing to forgive you for ignoring me. Isn’t that so kind of me?” The wolf licked it’s lips, “you ought to be thankful. You can show me how thankful you are, can’t you?”
“I’d rather eat glass,” Stiles sneered.
“We can arrange that,” the wolf growled, its claws breaking the skin of Stiles’s neck. It let go of Stiles’s wrist, giving his a second of reprieve, before using its full strength to throw his across the room.
“You want to fight, let’s fight, but I promise you’ll regret it,” the wolf said and Stiles scrambled to his feet.
He didn’t have many options. He was down to his left had, his right wrist aching like a son of a bitch and already swelling. The wolf was between Stiles and his room, meaning no chance at the mountain ash or getting his gun. He could try for the kitchen knifes or the front door but the werewolf was faster and stronger than him.
Stiles felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He had his phone. If he could unlock it, he might be able to call someone or—
“Hey siri, call Derek Hale,” Stiles said, watching as the wolf in front of him’s eye went wide.
“Fucking whore! Calling your mutt when I’m right here,” it yelled, charging at Stiles again.
“Stiles?”
“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, trying to keep distance. “Derek, it’s here. I need h—” Stiles was cut short by a hand around his throat.
“Bad decision,” the wolf growled, taking Stiles’s phone and crushing it. “Now you’ll get to watch me kill you’re little play thing. How fucking disgusting can you be, using him for safety and running off when you don’t need him. Toying with him and his kid like you have any right to them. All in front of me, too. Just to show off that you have him wrapped around your finger,” the wolf growled, trapping Stiles against the kitchen counter.
“He loves you and you use it. You take and you take and you take like you deserve it. Someone you acts like you doesn't deserve anything. Don’t worry, I know how to deal with spoiled brats like you,” it said with a sick grin. “Why don’t we have some fun while we wait for your big bad wolf to come save you?”
“Eat mistletoe and live, bitch,” Stiles choked out.
He reached behind him and grabbed a glass vial. He shoved it in the wolf’s mouth. In the moment of surprise, it’s grip on Stiles’s neck loosed. Stiles took the opportunity to headbut the wolf, breaking the glass vial full of powdered mistletoe in its mouth.
The wolf coughed, trying to breath and sucked in a mouth full of glass and poison.
Stiles scrambled to his bedroom, grabbing his gun. He heard a loud crash and turned, pointing the gun at the doorway. In the low light from the window, he saw a figure in the doorway. The lights were flicked on, blinding Stiles. Before his sight came back, the gun was out of his hands and he was wrapped in a tight hug.
“GET THE FU—”
“Stiles…”
“Derek?”
He held Stiles tighter. “You’re okay,” Derek whispered.
“I’m mostly okay,” Stiles said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt his pain starting to be leached away. “Oh shit,” he mumbled, loosing his feet but Derek held him up.
“Wait,” Stiles pulled away, “what about—”
“Drowning in his own blood,” Derek said plainly.
“I need be sure,” Stiles said, nerves clear in his voice.
He took his gun, holding it in his left hand and leading the way back to the kitchen.
Sure enough, there the werewolf was, laying on the floor. It had managed to roll onto its side, managing to get some air as the blood dripped from its mouth. Stiles scowled down at the wolf, kicking it onto its back. It coughed as blood filled it’s mouth again, the blood splattering back onto its face and the floor. It gargled on the blood, trying to get air.
It tried to reach for Stiles and Derek pulled him away, growling possessively. Breathing in the mountain ash made it too weak to move much more.
“Can you call Deaton,” Stiles asked. “I’d rather not have this creep here any longer than need be.”
The wolf smiled, coughing up more blood as it tried to laugh. “Told you… just a stupid pet…”
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Derek took Stiles to the emergency room and, sure enough, his wrist was broken. After getting a few splinters pulled out and a cast, they deemed Stiles free to go.
That night, Derek had let Stiles stay at his house. The guest room had already been made and Derek had brought him food. Stiles just laid in the bed, unable to sleep. He was paranoid something was going to happen, that the windows weren’t properly locked of warded. The room was silent, there was no noise from the outside world. While that might be great and all at any other time, it made Stiles feel completely alone. The half drawn blackout curtains made it dark, even in the day.
It felt isolating but Stiles was frozen in place, unable to change it. He didn’t sleep at all that night.
Derek came in at some point in the morning and brought him food.
“Did you sleep at all,” Derek asked, keeping his voice low. Stiles didn’t answer, staring blankly up at Derek.
What if they were right? Did Derek love him? Could he? Could anyone really love him? He was so fucked up after everything that had happened as a teen, was loveable? Did he love Derek? Of course he did. He’d always found Derek attractive and the friendship they’d build in the past years made him love Derek. He wasn’t sure what would be more painful: loving Derek and not being loved back or knowing he’d been hurting Derek with his ignorance.
“You can stay here as long as you need,” Derek told him, setting the plate of food on the nightstand. He started to ask something else but thought better, not wanting to make things worse. “There’s clothes in the dresser, just stuff you’ve left here. The bathroom is— well, you know where it is— but you can use it anytime. Uhm…” Why was he lingering? Derek sighed. “Do you want the door open or closed?”
If Derek did love him, had he been blind to it? How would he have not caught on? They were always together. He’d basically helped raise Eli in the last years and— Oh. Oh…
Stiles looked at Derek. He had said something, asked something? He was waiting for an answer…
“I’ll leave it open and you can close it if you want,” Derek finally said. “I’ll let you have some space now…”
Derek left the room, leaving the door open behind him. Stiles could hear him walk away. He heard him go down the stairs. He heard Eli digging in his Legos in the next room. He heard Eli laugh at a show he was watching. Hearing them, knowing he wasn’t alone, felt like a wave of relief washing over him and Stiles was finally able to sleep.
When he woke up, Stiles saw a tuft of hair at the edge of his bed. His heart was in his throat, too scared to move. He shifted slightly, moving the blankets. It must have startled the person at the edge of the bed as they turned to look at him.
Eli smiled up at Stiles from his spot on the floor. “Hi sleepyhead,” he said with a smile. He made quick work of climbing into the bed and getting comfortable, unplugging his headphones from the tablet so Stiles could hear.
Derek was at the door seconds later, he sighed when he saw both Eli and Stiles safe. “Eli,” he huffed, “I told you to stay to let Stiles sleep.”
“I didn’t wake him up. I waited right there on the floor,” he said firmly, frowning up at his dad. Little Eli was giving his dad the full force of the patented Hale look. Looking between Derek and Eli, the resemblance was clear. Derek had a little copy of himself but that sass was definitely Stiles’s influence. Eli had technically done what he was told and that was close enough.
“Come on, Eli. Let Stiles sleep,” Derek said, returning Eli’s frown.
Stiles saw himself in Eli’s personality. He’d taught him that– even if by accident– because he had helped take care of him. Derek trusted Stiles enough to help take care of Eli, to help raise him. That part of Eli was his doing.
“He’s okay,” Stiles mumbled, tucking a lose strand of hair behind Eli’s ear.
Derek looked surprised, happy maybe, hearing Stiles talk. He hoped it meant the shock was passing. “Okay,” he said. Derek relaxed, kissing the top of Eli’s head and turning to leave. He stopped in the doorway, watching Stiles and Eli.
Eli pressed play on an episode of Miraculous Ladybug. They’d watched it before but Eli liked rewatching them. Stiles wrapped an arm around Eli, keeping him close. Having Eli there, doing something they normally do, felt comfortable.
He was comfortable with Derek and Eli but not with being alone. He didn’t know what that said about him. Maybe he was too dependent on them. Maybe he was just trying to get over being stalked and physically assaulted when he was alone. Whatever it was, having Eli and Derek around felt normal and Stiles could really use normal at the moment.
It took Stiles a while to pull himself out of bed for more than a few minute to use the bathroom. When he did, he wanted to shower.
He opened the dresser drawer and, like Derek said, there were his clothes. They were neatly folded and stacked with care. He pulled some clothes out, looking them over. He hadn’t seen this shirt in weeks. He must have left it here. When was the last time he wore it? Maybe the last time they took Eli hiking? But that a while ago. How long had his clothes been here, neatly folded like this? When did Derek take the time to do all of this?
Stiles bundled up his change of clothes, venturing out of the guest room and into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and set his clothes on the counter. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror reminded him how badly he needed to shower. His hair was greasy and stuck up every which way. The cut on his face had dried blood coating it.
He turned the water on, letting it get warm, and opened the closet. His hand fell to the third shelf were the towels were kept. He paused. Had he really done this enough times to know exactly where the towels were? He used to give Eli baths when he was younger and would go to the pool with him and Derek a lot. Stiles shook himself out of it and took the towel, hanging it by the shower.
He stripped off his clothes, casually throwing them in the laundry hamper. Again, he wondered when that had become a habit. How many times had he just tossed his clothes in with Derek’s and Eli’s?
Stiles adjusted the water temperature and got in, sighing as the water washed over him. The warm water felt good on his skin. He felt himself relax, letting the water run over his shoulders and back. He grabbed a bottle of soap– his soap, the same brand, scent, and everything– and put it on a loofah– his loofah that stayed here. His preferred soap was in the shower along with a loofah that was his. He would often shower here to save time before going out to eat or to a movie with Derek and Eli and, sometimes, his dad. How had he never noticed before?
Stiles finished showering and dried off. He pulled on his clothes and opened the drawer on the far left of the sink. He pulled out a box of new toothbrushes Derek kept around. Stiles thought about how he knew where to find it so quickly as he put toothpaste on. As he brushed his teeth, he mentally listed things and surprised himself by knowing exactly where it would be in the bathroom.
When Stiles ventured downstairs, he found Derek and Eli in the living room, each doing their own thing. Derek was reading a book and Eli was putting together a puzzle– or they were until they noticed Stilles walking into the living room. Derek looked at him, his expression changing just the tiniest bit but Stiles knew it was a smile. Stiles returned the look and sat on the couch. He looked to the side, finding his stress ball sitting on the end table.
This was his spot. He always sat here or laid down on the couch. He knew that there would be a weighted blanket in coffee table cabinet if he wanted it– they kept it around for him. He looked at the shelf of movies, finding the random movies he’d gotten to watch with Eli and Derek, some just for him and Derek. Those movies were there because of him, so many things were there because of him.
Derek went to the kitchen some time after and Eli went back to his room to play with Legos, leaving Stiles in the living room. He stood up and stretched, wandering into the kitchen. He watched as Derek set a cup of tea on the counter, just in front of Stiles’s usual spot. It would be green tea, like usual. It was Derek’s small way of trying to get him to make healthier choices, like their cooking. Derek would add Stiles to their meals to keep him from eating Ramen and frozen burritos for every meal.
Stiles sat at the counter, smiling to himself. Maybe what happened wasn’t all bad; it made him aware of the things he did so easily. It reminded him of where he was and what those around him did. He was seeing all the things he and Eli and Derek did for each other.
It was nice to know a place for him had been carved out here even in the small ways. It was like seeing their relationship from a different perspective. He could see how people thought him and Derek were dating. It made him wonder if Derek ever thought about his as more than a friend, Stiles did.
He thought about what it would be like if him and Derek were a couple. He thought about how everything would change. Thinking about it now, Stiles realized it really wouldn’t change that much about them. They already spent most of their free time together. They already made dinner and went shopping together. They already had movie nights curled up on the couch together. They already went hiking and swimming together. They’d taken day trips to the beach together. They felt safer together. Hell, the only things that would change is that he might stay the night, that he could kiss Derek, and that he didn’t have to keep denying how he felt about it.
“What’s got you thinking so hard,” Derek asked with a smirk, sipping his tea.
Stiles sighed, looking at Derek. “Have you ever thought about us being more than friends,” Stiles asked, deciding it would be easiest to just ask and not dance around the bush. “We spend so much time together and take care of each other. Would it really be that different?”
“I have,” Derek said softly, putting his cup down. “It would be different, though. It would mean we had romantic feelings for each other.”
“Is that different,” Stiles asked, meeting Derek’s eyes.
“Is it,” Derek asked back.
“It would mean you felt the same way I do,” he said, licking his lips. “Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then it’s not different except for what we call it– call us.” Stiles waited for Derek to say something but he was silent. “Do you want to? Want to be my… boyfriend? Partner? Whatever you want to call it.”
“I’d be happy to be you ‘whatever you want to call it’,” Derek said, a slight teasing tone to his voice.
Stiles smiled to himself. “Don’t be an ass about it,” he joked. “Boyfriend sounds so childish and I think of work when I say partner. I don’t know what to call it.”
Derek rounded the counter and wrapped an arm around Stiles. “We can figure that out later,” he said. “For now, we’re just us.”
“I like us,” Stiles sighed, relaxing into Derek.
~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~
Stiles was laying down on the couch, his feet in Derek’s lap. Stiles was half watching tv and half watching Derek. He was reading, one hand holding his book and the other on Stiles’s ankle. Stiles was really liking the whole “us” thing, especially since it meant he could openly stare at Derek.
“What about significant other,” Stiles suggested.
Derek looked up from his book and at Stiles. “Don’t people normally say that when they’re married?”
“I guess so,” Stiles said. He grabbed his new phone and looked up alternatives to ‘boyfriend’ and couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you my bae,” Stiles teased and Derek cringed. “Oh, or my Boo? My flame? My suitor?”
Derek smirked, “What are you reading,” he asked.
“My companion? Lover? Admirer? Paramour? Sweetheart? My beau?”
Derek sighed, turning off Stiles’s phone. “Why don’t we just stick with significant other,” he asked.
Stiles smiled, “that works for me.”
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lavellansvh3nan · 1 day ago
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A Letter From Inquisitor Lavellan to Dorian Pavus
//OOC//: Hello again! These letters won’t leave my brain so I’m churning them out while the muse is there. Enjoy!
My friend,
I can practically see you brooding, you know. Which is your right and your past-time, by my count.
I won’t sit here and try to make excuses for my choices, there are no good ones anyway. I want you to know that no matter what, I never meant to hurt you. But that doesn’t make you less angry with me.
Perhaps I’ve caught you in a more benevolent mood, willing to hear me out. If Bull is near you when you read this letter, remind him that he owes me one. Or more likely you’ll crumple up this letter, probably set it on fire, and only spare a thought for me when you’re telling embellished stories around a gorgeous dining table. Either way, you are owed an explanation.
I remember when you told me of your intentions to try and change Tevinter. I was so proud of you, because I knew if anyone could make change in their home, it was you. The idea of watching my friend leave, knowing that it would be unlikely we’d see each other more than a handful of times among the years, was difficult to swallow. Especially after all you did to bring me back to life when Solas left.
You can say his name, you know. He isn’t going to appear around a corner and lunge at you. I’ve made him promise not to.
What you did for me in the months following his departure is a debt I’ll never be able to repay. I’ve known the love of a mother, a father, a lover, and a friend, but perhaps yours exceeds all of them. For yours is a loyalty, a steadfastness, a patience, that only comes with knowing someone completely and choosing to be with them in their dark moments.
Bathing me when I was covered in paint. Filling the endless silence of my despair with your constant prattle, being with me every single day I didn’t know what to do or how to move forward, it is a love I had never experienced or will ever experience again. It is unique to you.
When I finally came back to myself all those months later, realized you’d put your plans on hold for me, I was appalled. I assured you I would be fine and you finally went on your way. To start the life I knew you deserved. And look at all you’ve done! Minrathos and the Shadow Dragons would be nothing without your leadership.
I’ve spent the last eight years wondering what I would ever do if the chance came to see Solas again. In those first years, I was angry. And then I was lost, for a long time, though I think you were the only one who truly saw it.
Being the Inquisitor gave me purpose. I knew Thedas needed me. I wanted to help in whatever way I could, especially considering we’d inadvertently unleashed Solas on the world. And then there was the waiting, wondering when he’d strike. If he really intended to take us all down with him.
Over the years, I’ve spoken to so many about whether or not I believe Solas capable of tearing down the Veil. You, Bull, half the Inquisition, really. Most everyone agreed that Solas needed to be stopped by any means necessary. That he was a monster.
What was your poetic phrase? “A madman with the moral superiority of a guilty noble.”
Varric was the only one who believed Solas could be swayed. Told me that really, all Solas wanted was a reason not to go through with his plan. After what happened when Solas took my arm, I didn’t want to believe him. It was too painful to hope.
But then the reports came in, bit by bit from Varric. Noted from Solas, personal journals. Like he was leaving clues for us to find. As if his pride refused to relent but Solas, my vhenan, wanted us to stop him.
It wasn’t until I spoke with Rook, actually, that I knew for certain that if I saw him again, when I saw him again, things weren’t through between us.
Call it soulmates. Call it a connection through space and time. Or, call me a fool, as you already have. All are probably correct. But I’ve know since the moment I met Solas that something tied me to him. When I saw him again, I didn’t see the Dread Wolf. I saw my vhenan, beaten and broken and tired. Drowning in his regrets, a slave to what he thought was his journey to redemption. And in that moment, I swore Varric was standing there right beside me, telling me that the one thing that would sway Solas was love. And he was right.
Especially after his final encounter with Mythal (That is another letter entirely. One I know you’re dying to read, so if nothing else, allow me to indulge you in my next response)
To be perfectly clear— I do not love him more than you. I could love no one more than you. No matter where I go, I’ll be with you. Just as you told me when you returned to Tevinter. But it is different. Just as you have Iron Bull, and we both know logic has no place in your relationship with him.
*the last sentence is a crossed out line, still legible, as though Lavellan is teasing Dorian*
Now, this isn’t goodbye. This isn’t even see you later. Solas has assured me I can enter and leave the Fade whenever I choose. Thanks to Rook, there are plenty of Eluvians available for me to come and visit. If you’ll have me. I understand you plan to pout, to hate me for a few weeks, as is your right. Don’t brood too long, however. I know you’re chomping at the bit to know all that’s transpired.
Just know, I’ll never be far from you.
With love, always,
Elliana
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lolitastories · 9 hours ago
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Ours
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Rafe Cameron
Description: This will be a short story on how two people who love each other find their way back to one another. They have a child together and have to focus on giving her the best version of themselves but maybe their best version of themselves is when they are apart.
No matter the reason why Rafe and I weren’t officially together could ever make me deny him seeing his daughter. Rafe and I were two young to know what life would bring us after we met 4 years ago. At 19 I needed a change after graduating high school, so I moved to the outer banks. My friends came over to visit and when our pre campfire on the beach was rudely interrupted by a drunk girl, Rafe was there to watch as his friend Topper stopped the girl from starting a fight with one of my friends. My friend was more confident than me and invited them to stay and enjoy the sunset, since then Rafe and I spent most of our free days together. 3 years later I found out we were pregnant. Now I won’t admit I was scared because I wasn’t. Yet per my mother, my actions would tell you otherwise. When I found out I couldn’t block Rafe out of my life for even a day before he started sending constant messages and calling. I definitely couldn't ignore when he would personally go out of his way to come and find me. I was running out of places to hide so I had decided to move back home for a bit. I couldn’t stay too long because it would make my family suspicious, so thankfully being in my first trimester gave me the advantage to knock that reason out of the way. But soon I had to go back and face the decision I had made. The time back home had given me 3 weeks to think how and when I was going to tell Rafe about our future child. Since I was young, I knew I always wanted to be a mother, not this young but truthfully, I was jumping on clouds. The one thing I wanted to make sure before getting pregnant was choosing the right father for my children. He needed to be kind, loving, protective, but most of all understanding. Rafe was all of that and more. Not only did he have all those traits he also made me feel comfortable around him. He was the first man in my life that took care of the little girl who was scared to show herself. He brought out the pain and made it disappear. So, as I walked over to his property in Tanny hill I was determined to settle with whatever he chose to do with the information, that was until I saw him and another girl in his kitchen sharing a drink. I shouldn’t have gone into conclusion, but I was pregnant, and all my emotions were everywhere. I trusted him and when he found out I was back on the island he came to find me. He told me who she was and how he loved me. If it was me alone, I would jump on his arms and take him back, but it wasn’t. I needed to think of the little creature growing inside of me now, so after telling him I was pregnant I also told him I needed time to think about us. I wasn’t testing him, but this little person has become my world, and I needed to prepare to give them my all before welcoming it to the real world.
“We don’t like it here.” I hear the low and grumpy tone coming from behind me. As I turn, I let out a chuckle seeing Rafe and our daughter sharing the same expression. He had her hooked up to his chest as we were making our way to yet another antique store.
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“I can understand it from her, but you need to stop acting like a baby.” I shut the tailgate of his trunk and started walking. I heard another groan but soon enough his heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer until he was walking alongside me.
“Promise me you won’t be like your mommy?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. I knew where this sentence was going. “Well,” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to walk towards the entrance of the store. “Maybe the good parts but when it comes to shopping, I hope you will drain my bank account at decent stores.” I grab the door hand and pull it open. Rafe walks in giving me a teasing look. I don’t respond knowing it would only lead to a longer conversation down a hole I don’t like. I walk over to grab a cart and walk over to where Rafe is waiting for me. “Every time you come into an antique store you buy nothing. Why do you always bring a cart?”
“Habit.” I shrug as I begin to look around. My mother, siblings and I would enjoy a Saturday in thrift stores and antique shops. We would later get food and rush home with a smile on our faces, it didn’t matter if we were carrying 12 bags or nothing, we were happy.
“Habits do die hard.” He says in a lower tone. I straightened up looking over to him as he played with our daughter's hands. I walk closer, placing my hands over his.
“And I am very proud of you Rafe,” As I looked into his eyes, I felt words choking to get out, but I held them down.
“What a beautiful baby.” Our heads turn looking over to a mid-thirties lady? as she smiled towards us. “Oh, look at her tiny shoes!” She squealed coming over to touch her small shoes. “I remembered my kid's feet being this small, almost making me want another little one.” We laugh alongside her. “Are you two planning to have more?” That question made my smile fade really quick. I looked over to Rafe who had a similar expression. “Either way you two are still young. Enjoy her this little and as much as possible because time goes by fast. You spend your time on things other than family and when you decide to give it priority it's too late.” Her words were like a knife stabbing me right in the heart.
“How many kids do you have?” I could hear their conversation faintly. My fingers began to tighten along the cart's handle. My body began to heat up while my head was spinning.
“Well, it was nice to talk to you two, but I have to find my two devils running around here somewhere.” I was functioning enough to give her a smile before she walked away.
“You, okay?” Rafe moves closer looking over my face. I nod slowly before shaking the uneasiness away and smiling up at him again.
“Yeah. We need to hurry if we want to catch the other stores before they close.” Rafe groans, throwing his head back.
“Oh, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I raised my hand to playfully shove him but then I remembered he was holding our daughter. “Did you see that?” he exaggerated as he turned to look down. “Mommy was trying to hurt daddy.” I roll my eyes and turn around to continue walking. My heart was melting when I heard our baby giggling at his fake studded words. “See, she agrees with me.”
“She does because she is such a daddy’s girl.” I turn my head to see Rafe smiling proudly as our baby looks up to him in admiration. “Just wait until she starts dating,” I bite my lips holding back a laugh to how fast his smile fell. “She will put you second,” I teasingly whispers.
“No, she would not! I will make sure of it because she won’t date until I am dead” I come to a halt and turn around to face him.
“I am %110 percent sure she would choose him and fight against you to keep the boy around.”
“Nothing backs up your statement.” He keeps his head high.
“She is a girl.” I simply state. “She will be smart but at the end of the day she is a girl. And as a girl myself I know it will happen because I happened to me,” He looks down with confusion on his face.
“What?” He questioned.
“I argued with my father because of a boy, till this day he still doesn’t like him. but I would do it again.” I don’t regret getting into an argument because of him. I choose the right choice to protect the boy's name, because he keeps on defying everything my father said he was going to do and be. “But don’t worry too much, you two will be okay.”
“Are you and your dad, okay?” I shake my head. I haven’t even told them I had a child. I know my father loved me but until I had Rafe, and I figured out, he would never accept it. I also am not in a hurry because it's my life and I am very happy.
“We will be.” I let out a sigh seeing how even our daughter was keeping quiet. “Let go because I am already hungry.” I smile, turning around to focus back on the shelves. I picked up a small book that read Collection Shakespeare: Hamlet. Before I opened it the book was taken from my hand. Rafe’s face comes to sit right beside my ear. His hot breath fanned down my neck and I could feel his smile radiate against my skin.
“Well until that happens, I can be your daddy,” He slowly whispers. His warm breath moves closer, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes when he places a kiss on the crook of my neck. It had been so long since I felt his lips on such a little intimate spot. When I regained my conscious back, he had already parted. I turned around to him, opening the small yellow book. “I will start by reading my two girls a book” I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his fingers to shush me. I watch our daughter enticed by his voice as he reads Hamlet. His eyes following along the words and looking over to me, when he sees a smile placed on my lips he continues his interpretation of the book. I lean against the cart and watch as he continues to be and grow into the father I prayed for my children.
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mirkwoodshewolf · 1 day ago
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It hurts....but we're here to hold you together; Weasley twins x reader
*Author's note*
So this is a surprise and a LOOONG time coming. I had been out of the HP fanfic game for awhile but with the Wizard's of Baking show that my dad and I had checked out, it reminded me of the magical world I once loved writing about. And four years ago I had hoped to continue one of my previous oneshots and make it blossom into something more and now I can safely say that I can do it.
For those who wish to read that fic first, click here to get more info that way no one's lost. Now I KNOW that Sirius dies after the twins leave the school during Umbridge's reign of terror but for the sake of this story, let's make it before.
Warnings: PURE ANGST (Sirius Black is dead), some fluff, Umbridge. Just get the tissues on hand cause this does get sad people.
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I miss you dad.  Everything’s has felt pointless since you died.  Hogwarts is not the same, happy place it once was.  But leaving it doesn’t seem better either.  I’m just—sinking.  I think about the times we had together, and the short time of our reunion together.   If I had only just seen that bitch Bellatrix raise her wand and stopped her…..you’d perhaps would still be here…..with me.
I’ve felt nothing but unbearable rage since you died.  I’ve driven all my friends away.  No one dares to look me in the eye anymore.  The screams and shrieks of the Shrieking Shack are the only thing that settle my rattling mind and fast-paced heart nowadays.  And it doesn’t help ever since Umbridge took over as headmistress of Hogwarts.  She especially has had it out for me.
And for what? For being your daughter. She just loves to rub your death in my face.  Until one day I finally snapped and nearly clawed her eyes out. 
But when I had her pinned down at my mercy, I was brought back to that day.  The day I had Bellatrix Lestrange at my mercy when I was in my animagus form and how I could’ve killed her but something had stopped me.  Just like something was stopping me from maiming Umbridge’s face.
From that day I ran and isolated myself.  This anger that’s festered its way inside me but then something stops it—I’m so lost and confused of what’s happening to me.
I buried my face into my lap as I wept silently burying my head into my lap as I thought back on our final moments together that we had earlier this year.
*Flashback*
It was shortly after Harry had had his hearing with the Ministry of Magic for using Magic outside of school all to protect his abusive cousin Dudley.  Personally for me, I’d see no wrong with it and if I were Minister I’d let him off with a warning especially since this was his first offense.
But with Voldemort now fully returned, the Minister is doing everything he can to frame Harry as the ‘Boy who Lies’.  I growled as I tossed the paper aside only to jump once I saw the familiar figures of Fred and George sitting on either side of me.
“You know George, after all these years you think she’d be used to our sudden appearances.” Said Fred teasingly.
“Indeed Fred, and yet everytime she still jumps like a toad.” George mocked playfully.
“Would you rather me breathe fire like a dragon cause I know the spell to do it?” I threatened.
“Now, now you know we can’t help but mess with yah. Besides we’re finally able to use magic outside of school. You should be joining us!” Fred said as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders nudging me closer to him.
“Yeah c’mon Black have a little fun for once.”
“Fun? Okay.” I stood up and wrapped my arms around both their necks bringing them into me now.  “I’ll show you both fun.” As I spoke, I summoned out my puma tail and raised it up and had it tap Fred’s shoulder first.
He turned around and as he looked to his right, I snuck into his back pocket and snagged his wand.
“Fred she—” I then pulled on George’s ear to make him stop talking and yelp in pain, allowing me to quickly swipe his wand.  I ran towards the door with both their wands and they chased after me.
“You’ll pay for that Black!” Fred’s voice echoed from the hallway as I entered another one of the bedrooms.  I quickly hid behind the door and I saw the twins enter the room.  “You can’t hide from us (N/n).”
“We’ll find you one way or another.” I saw as the twins ducked under each bed thinking that I had gone under there.  But I silently sneaked out past them and went.
“Caw-caw stupid lions!” before racing off.  I knew they had popped up like hares in a burrow and I could hear them racing after me.  Now hiding in one of the old closets I heard George say.
“No wonder she’s Ravenclaw’s best Seeker.” George said.
“She can’t have gotten far this place isn’t that big. Let’s try upstairs in the attic.” I heard their footsteps trudge up the stairs so I came out from the closet just beneath the stairway when I heard George proclaim.
“SEEKER! SEEKER’S ON THE MOVE!!” I heard the two Beaters race back down the stairs tailing right after me.  I came into one last room and hid their wands in a cupboard before shutting it as the twins finally had me trapped in the room.
“Caught you.” They both panted.
“About time you Gryffindor Beaters finally caught up to me.” I mocked playfully.
“Ha, ha now give us our wands back.” Said Fred.
“Wands? Wands? Hmm-mmm…..” I trailed off.  “Sorry no wands except my own.” I said waving mine in front of them.
“(Y/n) where are they?” George in his serious tone.
“I really don’t know Georgie. Maybe next time you should keep a better watch on your things.” I said slowly moving around the room with my arms behind my back and having a light skip to my step.
I should’ve paid more attention cause I would’ve known that at that moment the twins were sneaking up behind me and the next thing I knew, both my arms were trapped within theirs as I was lifted up just a bit into the air (damn these twins and their growth spurt during our third year).
“Best be thankful that during our Quidditch games we don’t invoke the one secret the three of us know that the team doesn’t about you.” George said.
“And it would be a real shame if our own Seeker were to know how to throw you off your game.” Fred continued.
“You both wouldn’t.”
“Try us.” They both threatened with those devilish smirks of theirs and gleaming mischief in their eyes.
“What on earth is going on up here?” my dad’s voice soon spoke up.  I was dropped back to the ground (thankfully being a big cat animagus I was able to land on my feet).  “I swear the whole apartment shook more than the Shrieking Shack.”
“Nothing dad just a—bit of rough housing. Weren’t we boys?” I slapped their backs.  Both of them still being slightly intimated around my dad wordlessly nodded.
“Alright but not so much. Godric I had the half mind to think we were under attack by Death Eaters.”
“We’re sorry dad. We’ll try to be as quiet as possible.”
“And boys, your mother was wanting to see you both downstairs.” Dad told the twins.
“Yes sir.” They both said and walked out the door past my dad.  I snickered as I went to the cupboard and pulled out their wands.
“The old game of ‘Keep the wand away’ eh?”
“They needed to be taken down a peg or five. Now that we’re of legal age to use magic outside of school, Fred and George have taken every advantage to jump scare me whenever they please.” I explained.  Dad shook his head softly chuckling.
“You truly are my daughter. Your mother never enjoyed our pranks. Especially when it was just James and I.”
“Yeah, uncle Remus once told me the story of how you and uncle James had switched out my mother’s favorite tea for Veritaserum. Ended up spilling every secret she ever had, including her crush on you.”
“She vowed to never forgive me for it.”
“But you eventually wooed her over.” I held onto the locket he had given me shortly after his escape from the Dementors.  “I miss her so much.” I said sadly.  Dad placed a loving hand to my cheek and had me look up at him.
“I miss her too. But I know she’d be proud of the woman you’re growing up to be.”
“You really think so?”
“Trust me. The day you were born, she said to me that you were the most precious thing to her. That of all the stars that shined, you shined the brightest of them all. Her little starlight.”
“Is that why my middle name is Celeste?”
“The very reason.” We both smiled at each other.
“Hey dad?” he hummed acknowledging me.  “After the meeting, can—you tell me more stories about you and mom?”
“Of course my little kitten. But I suggest you give those boys back their wands. I believe they’ve learned their lesson now.” I groaned out exasperatedly.  “Go on. Besides Harry’s been asking about you.”
“I’ll go for Harry. But I swear if those twins spilled the beans about my secret…..oh there will be hell to pay.” Dad laughed softly and brought me into a hug before kissing my forehead and guided me out of the room.
*End of Flashback*
Yours and mom’s love story may not have started like the ones I’ve read in fairytales or legends as a child, but it held such a realistic beauty.  That through your time together, you both began to grow fond of one another.  A beautiful relationship blossoming until it came into full bloom.  Like watching a flower go from a bud to full bloom after caring for it and giving it all that it needed to grow.
In a way hearing your story made me began to think about something potential happening for me.  I didn’t want to admit it at the time but secretly it had been there since the Yule Ball the year prior.
*Flashback*
It was Christmas time and we had gathered at 12 Grimmauld Place once again.  This time it was a smaller gathering than last time with the Weasley’s, me, Hermione, dad and Harry.  We had also celebrated Arthur’s full recovery and discharge after being attacked my Voldemort’s snake.
Had it not been for Harry’s vision, Mr. Weasley surely would’ve died and I knew that every one of the Weasley’s would’ve been devastated.  But all ended up well and after being discharged from St. Mungo’s, he could come over and spend another Christmas and many more in the years to come.
I was sitting with George in one of the rooms after Fred said he needed to step out for something.  I began to notice the solemn look on George’s face.
“Georgie, what’s going on up there?” I asked him.
“Nothing I’m fine, I’m fine.” I raised my brow at his tone and I scooted closer to him.
“You sure about that?” I placed my hand over his and I saw as his resolve began to crumble.
“When mum told us of the attack, I—I lost my mind. Fred’s so much better at hiding it but we were frantic with worry. We thought about jumping on our brooms and flying off to save him ourselves. For a time I thought he was going to…..” he wiped away his tears trying to prevent them from falling.
“Hey, just let it out. Let yourself fall apart.” I hugged him as he sobbed into my neck.  I stroked through his soft ginger hair as I gave him the comfort he needed.
George Weasley was always the most empathetic of the pair of devilish twins.  While Fred can show his emotions, he prefers to always try and stay strong being the oldest of the pair.  George, however, whenever he needed to break down, he’d break down.  Usually in private or in some cases when it’s just the two of us.  He always has such a caring heart and that’s one of the things that I love about him.
Whoa wait a second love? Since when have I ever said George and love in that manner of statement? I mean I like him but—love? That’s a strong word.  Or was it?
“Thank you (Y/n), truly.” George said after his breakdown.  I patted his back and we separated from the hug.
“That’s what I’m here for. Besides, only one of us gets to call the dead-parent card.”
“You know mum thinks of you as her own.”
“Yeah I know.” I said playing with my locket.  “And believe me, your mum is a really nice woman but—”
“I get it. It’s not the same.” I nodded.  “May I?” he and Fred always liked to have a look at my mum’s picture in my locket ever since they started noticing me wearing it.  I unhooked it and handed it to him and he opened up the heart-shaped locket and saw the picture inside.  “Wow, I swear no matter how many times we look at it, you really do look like your mother.”
“Dad and uncle Remus have told me that constantly. But sometimes hearing that I can’t help but think I’m being compared to an unachievable woman that I never got to fully know.”
“Well from what I see your mum has green eyes, while yours shimmer and glisten like sapphires. Eyes that not only pierce your heart, but also reflect your soul right back at you. You see…..everything that you want to strive to be, and even when you fail. You still make it seem possible to achieve it. And it terrifies but at the same time empowers me.” As George explained all of this, his voice got softer and entranced as we stared into one another’s eyes.
My heart fluttered at his description and my mind raced with a thousand different thoughts and questions.  Did he—
“You really mean that George?”
“Well I—yeah.” He said softly.  As we stared at each other for a bit longer, we hesitantly pulled our faces closer together when a throat cleared breaking us out of our trance.
“Georgie, mum says it’s time to go.” Fred’s voice said.
“Right umm….here (Y/n).” he handed me my locket back and quickly left the room but not without bumping into Fred’s arm on purpose.  Fred softly exclaimed in pain before giving me a ‘sorry’ expression and then left.  I shook my head and placed the locket back around my neck.  My heart still racing and my lips tingling as I could swear I had felt George’s lips graze mine at that moment.
As I walked down the stairs getting ready to leave, I soon passed a room that seemed to pull me in.  I walked towards it and opened the door to reveal an empty room with no furniture.  But the wallpaper appeared to look like a family tree.
Most of them showed pictures of men and women while others had been burned out of existence.
“Half-blooded traitor child standing there.” A raspy voice soon spoke up.  I slightly jumped to see a grouchy house elf standing before me.  “(Y/n) Celeste Black, daughter of the last Master of the House of Black. If not for the blood running through your veins, my poor Mistress would…..”
“Kretcher! That’s enough of your bile! AWAY WITH YOU!!” my dad’s voice proclaimed from the staircase that stood right in front of the room.
“But of course Master. Kretcher lives to serve the noble House of Black.” Kretcher grumbled before sleeking away grumbling angrily to himself.
“Don’t mind him love. He never was very pleasant even when I was a boy. Not to me anyway.” He said coming up to me.  He looked inside the room and said, “I see you’ve discovered the Black family tree.”
“Sorry I didn’t mean to come in here.”
“Nonsense. Even though I never wanted you to be associated with this family, in a way you still deserve to know where it is you come from.” He placed his hands on my shoulders as he guided me inside.  “My deranged cousin, I hated the lot of them.” He said referring to the insane witch Bellatrix Lestrange.
“So that would make her my……”
“First cousin once removed. If it were up to me, you’d never be related to her at all. Especially your grandparents with their pure-blood mania.” He said as we now stood just beneath the pictures of my grandfather’s and grandmother’s names.  When I saw my dad’s branch I saw how his face had been burned away just like a few of the others scattered throughout the tree.
“What do the singed ones mean?” I asked.
“The few who broke away from the pure-blooded traditions of the Black family. Those that should be—forgotten in the family. Your grandmother did that after I ran away. Charming woman. I was 16.” So he was just a year younger than me when he was disowned by his own family.
“Where did you go?” I asked him.
“To your uncle James’. I was always welcomed at the Potter’s. And at that point your mother and I had already been together. She too offered her place, although her parents had strict supervision. Didn’t want no hanky-panky I believe her dad phrased it. He was a Muggle while you grandmother was a witch.”
“So mum was a half-blood?” he nodded.
“But that still didn’t deter my feelings for her.”
“Did…they know about me?”
“They did. I just wish they had lived long enough to meet you. They died shortly before you were born. Your mother was devastated, but I knew they would’ve loved you. Your gran was especially looking forward to spoiling you rotten.” I quirked a small smile as I continued to walk around the entire family tree room.
“Dad? When did you realize that you truly started falling in love with mum?” I fiddled with mum’s locket as I could feel George’s phantom touches on my skin.  My cheeks flushed as the mere thought of him was starting to make me feel this way.
“Though we were sorted into different houses, your mother held such a candle to my eye. We had a unique friendship even though she couldn’t stand our pranks, especially when they were directed at her. As the years went by, I felt like there was this—unspoken feeling between us. Guess that’s why I had decided to pull the Veritaserum tea gag on her. It was wrong of me so don’t ever try to find out that way.”
“Trust me, I don’t even try to mess with that potion. Or any love potions.” I said turning back to face him.
“Good. However secretly there’s a part of me that is glad that it did happen. Your mother once told me that she would’ve taken that secret to the grave with her. And end up regretting it the rest of her restless afterlife. After chiseling away at my walls, she eventually got to know the real me. And I the real her, and that was the moment I had truly seen such radiant beauty. Is…..there someone who you are starting to fancy after all this time?”
“Well I…..” I laughed nervously feeling my cheeks blush deeper.  I cleared my throat when I felt my dad’s touch on my shoulder.  I looked up at him and he gave me the warmest smile and the look of a Father’s love shined through his eyes.
“After all this time there are days when I hope to see you as that little girl that I had left behind. Hoping I could get a second chance to see you grow up but no. All I keep seeing is a fully grown young lady who has both her father’s spirit and her mother’s heart and mind. And any man should consider himself lucky to have you but if he mistreats you or takes you for granted, I’ll gladly accept a trip back to Azkaban after having words with him.”
“Dad he’s not bad he’s…..he’s a really great guy and I’m not just saying that. But…..I don’t think I should tell him.”
“And why not?”
“Must I spell it out dad? In the face of the world ending with You-know-who rising, the stakes of my love life feel spectacularly low.”
“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t at least get to have one happy chapter in your life.”
“I’m not so sure. Lately I’ve been…..I’ve been having this sickening feeling that—it may not work out for us this time. With the Minister’s denial and Umbridge controlling the future generation of witches and wizards on what to do against the Dark Arts.” I held my left hand and rubbed it remembering the scars that were once there at the start of the year.
Dad took my hand and I felt his thumb stroke over the phantom scars.
“Even in the darkest of places, you can still find a glimmer of light.” He pressed his forehead against mine and I felt his love and strength pour through me.  “When all of this is over, we’ll be a proper family again. You, me and Harry. Keep that light shining in your dark tunnel my little kitten.”
“I’ll try dad.” I then embraced him and he rocked me back and forth.
*End of Flashback*
‘Be a proper family again’.  That’s what you had said to me.  Even as the returning spring semester got even harder especially once Dumbledore had left after fleeing from the Ministry and Umbridge now took over as Headmistress, I tried to keep that fate.
Assembling Dumbledore’s new army then getting punished for it by Umbridge. Then Harry began having those visions of you being tortured by the Dark Lord.  I warned him that it was Him that was playing with his mind just to lure him out but Harry wouldn’t listen.
Stubborn boy he is, even if he didn’t want it as his god-sister I couldn’t just sit by and let him get killed.  I only wish that I hadn’t have told you and the other Aurors where they had gone.  If I hadn’t you wouldn’t have been there, you wouldn’t have gotten……and she wouldn’t have…..
My blood began to boil as I thought about her again.  Dad was right, if only we weren’t family then I’d truly would’ve ripped her apart and have no qualms about it.  So why couldn’t I do it then? What stopped me from finishing off the most infamous and psychotic witches in all of history?
My puma fangs began to grow as my claws slowly began to grow out and I let out a roar as I fully turned into my full animagus form and started attacking and tearing apart anything in sight.  Old bed sheets, chairs, tables, window shudders, nothing was spared as I unleashed my full wrath upon everything.
After my cougar catitude meltdown, I once again sat in the middle of the now thoroughly destroyed room and just felt myself drifting once again.  It always seemed to be this endless, repetitive cycle.  Sinking, boiling rage, explosive anger, then drifting and disassociating myself before feeling myself sink once more.
However just as I could feel myself on the brink between disassociation and the reality of the world, I felt someone come up beside me on my right and gently kiss my temple before embracing me.  That embrace was immediately met with another embrace from behind as two arms wrapped around me and another body curled around my left side.
My head was shifted over until I heard a heartbeat against my right ear and the familiar scent of gunpowder, musk, apple, cinnamon and mint encompassing me.  Their scent and presence alone was what finally got me to finally shed the tears that I had been holding in since my dad’s death.
Choked sobs escaped my lips before I finally just let myself fall apart and wept as loud as the shrieks that could be heard in the shack.  And as I wept my grief for the first time, the twins embrace only grew tighter and more comforting.
With one last sniffle, my tears were finally spent.  But even with my crying finally over, Fred and George still kept me sandwiched between them as their embrace remained strong and true.
“(Y/n), what’s going on up there?” asked George.  What wasn’t going on in my head more like it? I had thousands of thoughts and feelings racing through my mind.  So many that I couldn’t possibly form a proper sentence to explain what I was really feeling without risking another breakdown or not being able to get them to understand.
“Hurts.” Was the only thing I could muster ever so softly.
“Come again?” asked Fred concerned.
“Hurts…..” I said a bit louder before choking out another sob.  I held my chest painfully as I could literally feel my heart breaking.  Fred’s face nuzzled into my shoulder as I felt him gently give my arm a comforting squeeze while George’s face settled close against mine.
“We know love, it’s okay. It’s okay to feel the hurt.” Fred started before George continued.
“Just let it all out, let yourself fall apart.”
“We’re here to hold you together. This we solemnly swear.” They both said together.
And they kept that vow.  Even as we left Hogwarts together in a blaze of glory, the twins remained at my side whenever my grief overcame me.
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@shadowsingercassia, thank you so much for the tag. i loved doing this! 🫶🏻
1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?
none, actually! i don't have an account on ao3 and i think the website it's complicated for me.
2. How many fics have you completed this year?
15! which is literally all my fics since i only started posting since may.
3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start did year?
honestly, i don't even know. ongoing, i think it's about two or maybe three. on progress? that's the million dollar question, i have this problem where i start writing new things before even finishing the others that i already started. i have too many (5x) fics on my drafts.
4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?
without a doubt, never yours and only in my dreams. these fics are sooo different from each other, but i absolutely loved the process of writing them, i think it was when i felt the most motived.
5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?
i will have to say, tears in pages. it was the most challenging fic i ever wrote and it's different from the others. it was also the one where i had to force myself to stop, otherwise it would be a book and not a fic.
6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?
only in my dreams!!! in both ways, actually. when i started writing it that was not the original plot, the ideas just came to me while i was writing and the development that came after too. also, when i posted, i was shocked to see how many people liked it and requested for a part two. it was one of the best moments i had here.
7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)
yessss! tears in pages and echoes of the past, i loved writing them because of how different they are from all of my other works and it made me a little upset when i saw they didn't get the same attention as the others, especially tears in pages, i really loved that one.
8. Who is an artist that inspired you?
most of my time here is spend on fics, so, i don't really know many artists but i love @cafekitsune dividers. they're so good that i use them all for my fics and page. they're really amazing.
9. Who is an author that inspired you?
@daycourtofficial was the first page i found here. i literally read all her fics in one night. they're so good, the plot, the writing, truly amazing. before i start writing, i asked for some advices (anonymously at the time because i was too shy) and they helped me so much and gave the courage to post and it's one of the best decisions i ever made. so, thank you 🫶🏻.
@azsazz was the second page i found and i also read all of the fics in a space of hours. the amount of spam i must have given, my god. i loved the creativity and how she managed to explore so different ideas and worlds. i was so captivated by the majority of them, so good.
i'm always looking out for your new fics, and both of your pages are some of the ones i always come back to read and reread. 🥰
10. Who is a new author you discovered?
@itsswritten, absolutely amazing, i love all the fics, especially the wings universe. it's so magical.
@writingcroissant, i could read those fics over and over and over again, completely amazing.
11. Did you do any collaborations? How did i start?
i have not.
12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?
that i found my courage to post and share my ideas and writing. i was so nervous at the begin and now it's one of my favorites things to do. i just wish i had started sooner.
13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?
that it can be a safe space, we can do it just for fun and enjoy it. we can share our own art and support the art of others as well.
14. What is your advice?
believe in yourself - it's the best advice i've been given.
15. What are your creative goals for 2025?
try to finish those fics i've already started without starting new ones (oops) and try to get them out of my drafts. also, improving my writing, i feel like it already had some improving but it's not quite where i want it yet.
no pressure tags: @daycourtofficial @azsazz @itsswritten and anyone else who wants to do this!
Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!
Thank you so much @velarisdusk for the tag! 🫶🏻
1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?
I don't have anything published on AO3 simply because I still don't know how to use it even though I do have an account. But here on tumblr, it's 92.878
2. How many fics did you complete this year?
49! I've never counted them before and never realized just how many they were omg
3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?
Ongoing only Bound By Secrets. In progress apparently 10? I thought I had 3 WIPs. I completely forgot about the other 7 lol
4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?
UGH how do I choose one? A Helping Hand has a special place in my heart because it's the first fic I wrote and posted. Night and Days is one of my favorites because I love the banter between Azriel and reader, and I also have to mention Say My Name because omg I loved writing that one and I know I might be biased but I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing.
5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?
I'd say the first few things I wrote rather than one in particular for the simple reason that in Italian I tend to write very long sentences because it's normal, but in English sentences are usually shorter so it took a bit to get into that mindset. As for experimental, I'm trying to write a fic from two povs at the same time, sort of like an omniscient narrator. We'll see how it turns out.
6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?
Many fics surprise me while writing because I don't plan them out that much other than a few things I want to happen and then I see where the story leads me. As for reception, Bound by Secrets. I didn't expect so many people asking for a part 2! (I'll write it, I promise)
7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)
The Path To Healing and on a happier (and smutty) note Alcohol and Giggles. I cried writing the first one and laughed writing the second one.
8. Who is an artist that inspired you?
I love every single fanart by madschofield and elizianna.the.one!
9. Who is an author that inspired you?
@writingcroissant was the first author I found on here, the literal reason I created an account was to read her fics, and @illyrianbitch was the second. I love everything they write and it made me want to write again.
10. Who is a new author you discovered?
@shedoessoshedoes and @duskandcobalt! I'm going to read all of your fics so don't be surprised if you see me in your notifications for the next few weeks 🥰
11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start
Nope, no collaborations.
12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?
Kinktober! I decided to do it two weeks before it started and didn't think I'd be able to write all 31 one fics but I did it!
13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?
When I started posting, I kept opening tumblr every five minutes to see if there were any new notes/comments/etc. Now I don't do that anymore. I still care about people enjoying my content of course and any kind of feedback is always super appreciated, but I don't need to continuously check to know that my writing is valid and good even if I get only a few likes.
14. What is your advice?
I'm the wrong person to ask this to, but I guess write what you like and what you want to read. I know it's basic, but never before I realized just how true it is. Feedback and appreciation for your work is awesome, but you have to be the first one to like it or it's probably going to turn out bland if you push yourself to write something you don't like or are not interested in.
15. What are your creative goals for 2025?
Finish working on all those WIPs apparently lol. And I have an idea for a series that I want to work on as well.
No pressure of course, but if you'd like to @azrielslittleslut @anarchiii @shedoessoshedoes or anyone else who wants to do it!
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asoftspotforangels · 6 months ago
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some of my favorite woven tapestries, by Cecilia Blomberg:
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Point Defiance Steps
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Mates
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Rising Tides
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Vashon Steps
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sluckythewizard · 9 months ago
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BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary
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"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.
Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.
One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.
Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.
The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.
Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?
A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.
But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.
As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.
The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.
Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.
"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.
"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.
But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.
"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.
"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."
Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.
"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?
Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...
"Hey, are you okay?"
The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.
"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.
But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?
The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.
The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.
"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"
"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.
The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.
It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.
Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.
Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"
Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.
"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"
"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.
"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.
"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."
"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.
While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.
"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.
The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.
The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.
A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.
That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.
The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.
Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.
It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.
It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.
Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?
The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.
"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.
Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.
Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.
He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.
Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.
A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.
It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.
Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.
Like a mouse to a snake.
This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.
The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?
Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.
His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.
A STARTLING RINGING;
Splits the moment,
Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,
As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.
Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.
"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"
Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.
Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.
"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"
Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.
"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.
Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .
As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.
The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.
"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.
"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."
The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.
"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."
"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.
He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.
#NO TAGS ON THIS ONE BC WELL. IM SHY. IM TAKING A BIG LEAP JUST BY ALLOWING U TO REBLOG THIS. IF IT BREAKS CONTAINMENT THATS UR FAULT.#i unfortunately suffer from the disease of 'i hate everything i write the day after i write it' BUT IM GETTING TREATED#I WILL NOT BE HAUNTED BY THIS WEAKNESS FOREVER. AND HEY LOOK THIS IS THE FIRST ACTUAL FIC BIT IVE EVER FINISHED..#ITS SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF!! AND BY JOBE I WILL BE PROUD EVEN IF I HATE IT.#i dont always need to be the one who likes my art bc i know Someone out there will always enjoy it.#and to that someone i say: omg thankyou i LOOOOVEE YOUUUUUU!!!!!#JUST DELETED A WHOLE RAMBLE I JUST HAD ABT NERVOUS DISCLAIMERS FOR MY ART BUT I DONT NEED EM!!#GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT GET CONFIDENT. ANYWAY. so emizel and soda huh#THEYRE SO CUTE TOGEEHTERRRR TEEHEHEHEHEEEE they are the homies that kiss eachother goodnight like CMON#but uhh so hey your bestest friend in da world just got turned into a freaky creature thing that eats ppl#ieah yknowthe guy that u care about alot that u had to watch get bled out by another freaky creature thing in an alleyway#yeaaah and you were super hurt and weak and stupid and u couldnt do jack nor shit to help him#what was i talking about again. RIGHT so hes even cooler now bc he cant die n hes super strong n his arms can be knives. sometimes.#but also he can eat people now. and sometimes he cant stop himself from eating people. and thats kinda scary. but in a cool way.#but also in a disturbing way. but also in an interesting way?but also in a freaky way.the feelings ARE MIXED!!!ATLEAST I THINK THEY WOULD B#okay again i havnt listened to the suckening ina bit. so its been a minute since i absorbed their personalities. i could be misreading or#misremembering or misconstruing or mischaracterizing or WHATEVER. i think the confusion carries its intended effect#LOSING MY TRAIN O THOUGHT. anyway i love soda n emizel i hope they get locked in a saw trap together or somethign. for enrichment.#TALOS GRANT ME THE STRENGHT TO POST MY CREATIONS ON LINE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGHHH!!!!!!!
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unknownmads · 1 year ago
Text
CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI
CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)
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thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.
Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).
Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.
Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website
Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.
Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.
Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.
~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~
Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.
~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~
he wanted to be nonchalant.
Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called
“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”
Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.
Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.
Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.
“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”
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