#by letting them stomp all over ur boundaries

[the-crimson]

(All talk about the characters not the ccs)

I’m finally watching bbh’s June 19th stream (day after Father’s Day) and he’s talking about removing everyone’s access to his base. I’ve seen people talking about how this could cause problems and lose him Forever and Bagerah’s trust but I think people - including Forever and Bagerah - are forgetting a crucial fact

Bbh is a single parent and has been from the start.

He has to be incredibly paranoid to keep Dapper safe. His paranoia is the only reason Dapper -and many of the other eggs - are still alive.

He can’t rely on other people to keep Dapper safe. He can’t tell Dapper to go live with another parent if his house is compromised. That’s why he has five different houses and keeps building more when too many people gain access.

I don’t think Forever or Bagerah have a right to complain about this considering they have 3/4 other parents/houses to keep their egg safe. They have a family structure that allows them a sense of safety that bbh has NEVER had.

Like yea, I understand why they would feel betrayed but from an objective pov, they have zero ground to stand on to protest because they have NO idea what bbh has gone through raising dapper alone, how could they? They have always had 3/4 other parents at their beck and call.

Trust doesn’t mean letting someone run rampantly through your house/safe space just because they feel entitled to it. Trust means having faith that if bbh is closing off his/Dapper’s house to you, he has a legitimate reason that doesn’t have anything to do with you personally.

Bbh has done so much for team friendship and taken down so many of his walls and boundaries for them that the fact THEY don’t have faith in him makes me sad. I trust team friendship and the q-ommunication smp to work everything out but I just hope Bagerah and Forever come to respect bbh’s boundaries a bit more :D

[bipolarastronotes]

ASTRO OBSERVATIONS P.II ☆｡ﾟ☽

cancer moons and risings are over prepared. my cancer rising friend and i work at a summer camp and i forgot sheets for me bed. she pulls out a second set of sheets because she knew someone would forget them. someone is me.

aquarius rising placements look otherworldly. they typically have noses that are distinguishable and large, dreamy eyes.

aquarius placements tend to pick blue things and wear blue

scorpio in big three is very hard to read (imo)

virgos are so fucking smart like pls stomp on me

virgo venus struggles with finding a romantic partner that’s up to their standards. whomp whomp.

gemini venus can’t make a damn decision to save their lives

scorpio risings have very piercing eyes

leo moons, you’re cocky. but you’re also so creative and so lovely.

leo risings, YOURE FUCKING RADIANT! and cocky. BUT YOU HAVE A LITERAL GLOW AROUND YOU. just yellow vibes yknow

aries venus and gemini venus are the worst venus sign to have imo (i am a gemini venus, my love life is non existent) ((also sorry if u have an aries venus but i like ur spontaneity.))

cancer suns make the best teachers!! they’re very nurturing.

scorpio moons are so entrancing like please tell me all your dark secrets

cancer suns have bad tempers 🤪

scorpio risings are always constantly transforming and changing. that may be physical or mental. so with that said, scorpio risings will typically have a new look or they dye their hair.

capricorn suns are very calculated in their decisions and will go through a multitude of possible outcomes

aries moons go through a lot of internal struggles and will feel all the feels because of it

aries moons, i love you. it’s gonna be okay

capricorn moons are some of the sweetest people alive and they’re not cold at all

cancer suns get overwhelmed easily

virgo risings are just models. they are always so elegant and they’re so humble

cancer risings have a natural beauty and just pure energy around them

taurus suns don’t let go of grudges

sagittarius sun makes gives off either guy bestie or male manipulator vibes

aries mercury are rash and blunt. sometimes they don’t take into account how other people are feeling.

gemini risings are lime bubbly

virgo placements scream vera bradley to me for some reason

sagittarius risings are fun as fuck. they’re the literal life of the party.

pisces moon/risings let negativity into their lives because they’re scared to set hard boundaries. they don’t want to make people upset. LEARN TO SET BOUNDARIES PLS 🙏

cancer suns unironically listen to nickelback

━━━━☆ HEY! ☆━━━━

hey guys! so i’m starting a new series on big three’s! i don’t know placements like aries moon, sagittarius moon, virgo moon, etc. so if you want to be in a post, send me your big 3, your meyers briggs type, lyrics to a song that are absolutely eating you alive and consuming every fiber of your being, and one or two photos of yourself that you absolutely love. 16+ ONLY PLEASE!!

[red-doll-face]

Here is a request for slashers if they're open. My brain does a thing where I am affectionate w a person but if I get nudged away (even if it's just to readjust the position), it goes "oh no. They don't want u to touch them. Do not touch ever again or they will get mad at u. U disgust them." Even tho touch is my love language & it hurts, I just won't touch. If confronted, I will get confused & panicky cuz "u didn't want me to touch? Im respecting ur wishes? Did I miss something?" Its a mess.

Requests are indeed open, I’m sorry I take foreverrr to do these but i hope u enjoy! I don’t know what to call this tho. For simplicity’s sake I’m calling this nervous reader lmao, idk what else to call these.

Slashers x gn nervous Reader

Jason Voorhees:

Jason can very much relate to the feeling. When he first meets you, he’s sure that you’re frightened. He restrains from being too close to avoid coming off as overbearing, doesn't want to touch you because if you flinch he’ll be so hurt. He just assumes he disgusts you. Based on the reaction all of his other victims have when they see him, he’s sure you’ll probably be the same.

Once Jason is sure that you don't feel that way, he’s a cuddle monster. He wants to be close all of the time, holding hands, letting you sit in his lap, you name it. He’s so starved and quickly decides that touch is his love language too. He’s not even sure how he’s lived this long without it.

The only time I can see Jason maybe gently sort of setting you down elsewhere and walking off is when he senses strangers on the property of what once was Crystal Lake. He’s out the door before he can even see your hurt expression, Which is worse because this might lead you to jump to conclusions.

If you distance yourself from Jason, he immediately is thrown off. He can’t directly ask you if he’s done something wrong and when he tries to initiate affection with you and you don’t reciprocate whole heartedly, he’s at a loss.

He’ll get on one knee while you sulk on the couch and give you a silent plea to tell him what's wrong. You can panic and try and avoid it but he is certain there's something going on and he wants so badly to know what he’s done to put you off. You tell him and he immediately is shaking his head no, he could never be mad at you, never be disgusted with you. You’re the most breathtaking person he’s ever had the pleasure of holding, the first, most likely.

Jason nods because he understands how you feel. In the future, he’s persistent about how you feel when he untangles himself from you, making sure you’re ok.

Michael Myers:

In the later stages of your relationship, Michael is insatiable when it comes to being in contact with you. For a long time, towards the start of your relationship, he didn’t like it. It felt weird. All of the touch he's experienced prior was so clinical and sterile that he doesn’t quite know how good touch is supposed to feel. He’s so touch starved that he’s almost positive he doesn't even need it.

Slowly, he builds a tolerance for it, much like one does with alcohol, constantly checking his boundaries and letting him control the situation and he’s all for movie night, huddled up on the couch, or waking up with his head on your chest. His own personal pillow.

There are, however, moments when his need to make someone tremble with fear and then blodgeon them to death with a can opener from their own kitchen becomes too strong, so he tries to keep away from you. In the past, he might have used you to satisfy similar desires of a sexual nature and may have really hurt you but he knows that it’s not always enjoyable to you.

Then, you stop touching him. Much like Jason, he starts to think you’ve become sick of him. Sick of his coldness, his muteness, his withdrawn demeanor. Maybe you’ve moved on and he tries to tell himself he doesn’t care but he doesn't think he can see himself touching anyone but you now.

It gets to the point where he comes home one day and you look heavily troubled, expressions he’s seen on your face before, only in the event that something terrible has happened. You ask to speak to him and he obliges.

You explain that you don’t think this relationship is working, that you’re pretty sure he’s disgusted with you and how difficult this event is because you didn't even want to talk about it but it's been hurting you for too long.

His response is to stand up very slowly, pick you up and lay down with you over him, simply laying there. Hopefully, knowing you’re the one person he would ever allow to participate in this intimacy is enough to show you that you mean more than you think you do to him.

RZ Michael Myers:

This Michael is more perceptive to your touch than his counterpart, your touch sends little shivers down his spine and as soon as he gets pretty used to it, he’s eager for more. This also takes some time but significantly less. He’s enamored with the idea of returning to a somewhat normal life. Your affection grounds him in that fantasy as much as being a murderer might take him out of it.

As he establishes a relationship with you, he may even be the one to start touching you instead of the other way around. He’s read books and always wondered what it might feel like to have someone genuinely touch him without fear in their eyes. Without malice.

An unsuccessful ‘day at work’ might have Michael feeling a little het up though. He can be moody and more rageful. Neither you nor his hobbies can calm him. He seems colder than usual in these states and can come off as very standoffish.

So when you try and touch him and he shrugs your hand off his shoulder, he can’t or isn't in the state of mind to address your frown and worried look. Michael, instead stomps off somewhere to be alone for a while; maybe take his anger out on something else. Some unsuspecting soul or maybe even a poor animal in the wrong place at the wrong time.

After he’s calmed down some, he returns and almost forgot about that sad little gleam in your eye before he left. Michael remembers when he sees you blankly staring at the TV, pointedly avoiding his gaze even as you utter a weak welcome home. It’s not very welcoming. He sits stiffly beside you, watching you from the corner of his eye. You’re closed off from him and he doesn't like it at all.

Migrating towards you slowly, he eases you into a familiar hug, his big bear hugs that are a little tight but inviting all the same. His huge torso and long arms seem to swallow you in his warmth. You hardly reciprocate. You look a little surprised. Though he never addresses it verbally, (which is probably better for you) Michael offers a single glance that communicates everything he needs to say. Don't ever think that again.

Thomas B. Hewitt:

Thomas’ self esteem issues and self image are not good. He honestly doesn’t like to imagine what he looks like to other people unless it can be as a threatening man you don’t fuck with. Meeting you, he realizes that it’s good to protect his family but he’d rather you not see him as someone only capable of harm. Tries his best to get the point across that while Hoyt may be adamant that horrible things happen to you, he’s not going to let them.

Thomas has received affection but always a familial affection. A pat on the back from Monty, proud claps to his shoulders from uncle Charlie, and hugs and kisses from his dear Mother. Nothing so foreign as a strangers touch over his arm or a soft embrace.

Unfortunately, Thomas can get reactive when you attempt to touch him without his mask on. He’s absolutely settled on the false reality that you’ll see his face and immediately decide that you never want to touch him again. Interacting with you with his bare face? That's a no for Thomas.

He puts on his mask that covers the scarred skin over his face and you look dejected. He was preparing for you to pressure him but instead finds himself trying to find out why you won’t touch him now. It’s not his face, is it? You respond with your reasoning. Thomas is so confused. How could you think that you disgust him? That he doesn’t want you to touch him?

He’s quicker than the others and immediately sweeps you up into his arms and holds you as close as humanly possible. Feeling disgusting and like some sort of burden is a feeling he’s so familiar with and if he can take it away from you, he will.

Will aggressively initiate touch with you for the next week or so just to solidify the fact that he cares about you and won't reject you just as you didn’t reject him.

Bubba Sawyer:

Bubba is a great cuddle buddy and partner. Hugs are his favorite and he hugs his brother all the time, lifting both Nubbins and Chop Top into the air for some brotherly love. If you’re smaller than them he’s all about picking you up and perhaps a little rough housing with you. He’s careful though or at least there are attempts made to be careful

Bubba, though he could easily spend the whole day doing nothing and everything with you, has work. Chores, butchering. Cooking, and tending livestock. Plenty to do at the sawyer house and he does most of it. Suffice to say there are times when you want to lather attention all over him yet he has to go back to work.

So caught up in work that he doesn't get what's going on til way later, when you’ve had time to stew in your emotions, firmly telling yourself that Bubba is annoyed by you probably. He’s baffled and confused at your silence, your crossed arms. The little furrow in your brow. He can already tell there’s something upsetting you.

Honestly, Bubba is so affectionate I can’t see him being the kind of person even capable of alluding to the fact he might be disgusted by you. How, if all he wants to do is love you? You may bring it up as a joke that you thought he didn’t like you and he almost seems offended. Not like you?

Bubba can squash any feelings you may have about that and then some. He will not let you drown in insecurities, not on his watch. This man will do everything in his power to make you feel beautiful because you really are.

I’m sorry these are super long but thanks for requesting!

[bestworstcase]

the phenomenon of villains who do dramatic fantasy violence feeling less heinous than villains who do small acts of cruelty because the latter evoke, like, the abusive or bigoted boss or parent or friend or partner you knew once so it’s a personal sort of evil--except applied to the conflict btwn rapunzel and cassandra, where rapunzel doesn’t listen and stomps all over cassandra’s boundaries and disregards her feelings and refuses to apologize for her own mistakes, vs cassandra whose lashing out is just, dramatic fantasy violence and yelling about her feelings and like, obviously rapunzel is not the villain here but i think this is probably why the reaction i have to her behavior is so much more visceral than to what cass does, bc while cass objectively does more harm to more people it’s all… smashing up houses with magical rocks and trying to force rapunzel to have magical battles with her and using a random magical artifact to mind control people none of it is REAL, in the way that rapunzel betraying her trust in WTH or stalking her in UR or being a passive aggressive jerk in GAG or shutting her down in RATGT or backing her into a corner to force a “conversation” in RDO or walking away while she’s talking in MM is real. the same principle probably applies to varian too now that i think about it, lots of people have been let down by a friend or had a friend break an important promise but nobody has ever had that friend build a robot army and kidnap their mom in retaliation--

rapunzel’s flaws are human flaws and when she hurts people it’s in such a very real, very human way, and then those people crack and become these fantastical over the top villains with robot armies or gigantic magical fortresses of doom and just--the difference is just so stark and that makes it so easy to sympathize with them over her (even moreso in cassandra’s case, bc we get two whole seasons of rapunzel treating her increasingly badly before cass finally snaps).

likewise with zhan tiri--like she does have her moments of being insidiously cruel or manipulative towards cass but most of her villainy is firmly in the dramatic fantasy category and that i think reeeeally feeds into the whole… zhan tiri was actually a better friend to cass than rapunzel managed to be… problem, in that she was not a Good Friend but the ways she wasn’t a good friend are all tied to this grand fantastical plot to steal the moonstone from cass whereas rapunzel was just like… appallingly bad at boundaries.

(which isn’t--none of this is a criticism i’m just mulling this over. i love that rapunzel gets to be this deeply flawed character who is so, subtly but insidiously fucked up by gothel’s upbringing and even like, frustrating as it is that she was ultimately never allowed to grow out of these flaws in canon its also sort of nice for it not to be all…neatly wrapped up with a bow at the end. i like that she gets to be messy.)

[ao3gingerswag]

So now I’m thinking about what hooomdoom said and what you responded about cas and sam and authority and… have you ever seen a kid try to do something they think will get them in trouble and all they get is confusion? Like I could totally see Sam trying to find the lines and push boundaries as he’s adjusting but I’m picturing Cas not even recognizing that Sam’s doing something wrong, just that he’s doing something…odd…

Like cas is used to his perspective being different from other people, so when Sam’s not acting how he expects, he doesn’t assign malicious intent, he just genuinely asks “why are you doing that?” Or even tries to guess something reasonable, like “oh, are you waiting to mop because I haven’t cleaned off the tables yet? That makes sense, you don’t want to mop when the table crumbs are just going to fall. I got caught up so I’m probably not going to be able to do the tables anytime soon, so I can just do the mopping tonight. I don’t want to keep you up late, you need your rest”

And Sam’s just thinking “no! I was trying to piss you off because you hogged Dean’s attention all day!” But he can’t very well say that, so there’s no real point to picking that fight

On the other hand, I could see Cas laying down rules his dad had, but when sam tries to question them, he just… doesn’t have an answer. It’s just how they always did things. And he’s never had someone to question everything his dad did, so cas doesn’t know if those rules had a good reason, or if they were for his own benefit, or his dad’s or the customers and so he doesn’t know if it’s safe to change things or if there are consequences he just can’t foresee. And for the most part I could see him explaining that to sam and offering compromises and whatnot. But I could see at least sometimes that changing systems and routines and rules that his dad set feels both overwhelming and like he’s disappointing his dad. And i could see sam not understanding how overwhelmed Cas is when cas is just saying “well that’s what we always do” and sam snaps “that’s not a good reason!” And cas is just like “i know!”

But cas always comes back to talk once he can articulate himself, and is always willing to try to look from Sam’s perspective, so eventually Sam starts to feel like sharing his perspective (or back-talking as john would call it) isn’t defiant. And if it’s not defiant, then it doesn’t actually need to be a power struggle with cas

@ao3time Oh yeah for sure hahahaha Sam is like...ok....well lets see how you react if I eat dinner.....ON THE FLOOR!!!!!! and cas is just like um??? ok???? sam r u ok is there something wrong with the seats?.....ok.....that's fine then, you can eat wherever you want....

and sam is like. what.

estrdyfug im dying at the idea of sam just stomping around and moping bc he wanted to piss Cas off with his Weirdness but Cas is literally unpissoffable trfytguhuj at least that way. like the ONLY thing he gets mad about is if sam is mean to dean, and sam is not gonna be mean to his big brother just cause he wants to piss off The Weird Man They Live With Now

the whole idea of sam trying to change routines and cas being freaked out by it is killing me thoooo!!!! well that’s what we always do" "that's not a good reason" "I know!" stoooOOOOOOPPPP ur killing me man ;~; i am having feelings.....so hard to be autistic in the middle ages.... ;~;

but yes! i am obsessed with the idea of sam trying so hard to get into a power struggle with cas and it just Does Not Work bc cas doesnt WANT power over sam he just wants him and dean to be safe!!! and sam is like..... :OOOOO

[mysticalmusicwhispers]

if it’s not too much to ask... india/china hcs pls? i know u ship it so i’d love to hear what ur opinions are!!

Thank you for asking friend!! It’s never a bother :)

Length Warning: Very, Very Long, A Lot Of Rambling

Preface: I honestly don’t know much in-depth stuff about India-China history (all the “history ramblings” is based on my previous knowledge + Wiki), so I don’t have a lot of grounding in what their relationship is like. Also, when writing their history I realized I still see them as a brotp (so the first part isn’t very shippy) but there are romantic ship headcanons at the end. See this cool post for other hcs!

+++

HISTORY RAMBLINGS

- I guess in Ancient Times, I see them having a friendly trading partner vibe; my personal hc of Ancient China is of someone who builds friendships for convenience, and then starts getting attached with time, so I think this is how his attitude was at first. He and India probably had some vague contact through diplomats and travellers who brought back tales to their own country, and then once trading and influence and religious imports (ex. Buddhism) really kicked off, they started actually interacting with each other (as people, not nations) and over time, that just kicked off into being closer and closer friends until they were basically lovers.

- In Hetalia canon China goes along with Zheng He (Ming Dynasty, early 1400s) on his voyages around the world (the episode with a giraffe), and historically they did make stops at India, where they traded and visited Buddhist temples and stuff; this would be fun to examine in terms of Indchu. I’m sure they had more opportunities to visit each other in person (in contrast to Romechu, the true long-distance relationship) but I’d like to see them just checking in on each other, talking about the news of the day and stuff! Talking about trade and the places they’ve seen; Yao rambling on and on about where he’s headed next, India interjecting time to time about things he’s heard about places far away from them. A moment of peace where they’re just super comfortable and relaxed with each other would be amazing

- Ok fast forward a bit to the 1850s-60s: Qing Dynasty is resting in pieces, the Opium Wars have thoroughly beaten China, the government is unstable from the Boxer Rebellion and there’s a bunch of hate at the ruling people, stuff happens. India has been taken by Britain and it’s Not Fun; these two old men are down in the dumps and being bitter together. I don’t think they’re “dating” or whatever rn because there’s just too much on both of their plates, but they are still close friends and still mutually hate England together. I can see them having tense arguments with each other out of pure stress, complaining about who has it worse: India, who has been made into a colony! *gasp* “My pride has been killed, Yao!” and China, who is basically a colony to 5 nations all at once and also reeling from losing HK to Britain. They know exactly how to hurt each other by this point, but they also know they don’t really mean it, and things usually blow over after they’re in their right minds again.

****Also, Indian sepoys were used by Britain to fight China, and Indian opium was shipped to China as well; I think that might have been a sticking point for a while, but I think Yao would’ve slowly accepted that India was not the one making decisions in the end. 

- The World Wars: India is in the Gallipoli campaign, conscripted by Britain, China is fighting on the side of the British and French but does not gain a single thing from winning, and has also lost the First Sino-Japanese War (I think Hetalia canon says China got his scar from there). Then Japan invades China, and he and India are fighting together in WWII against China’s estranged sibling/brother/vague relation. Both are beaten to the core, still bitter, but they keep reminding each other that they will just have to weather the storm and wait for their moment. This too shall pass. Same mood as the beginning of imperialism, but more tired and more done.

- After India’s Independence and China’s Government Overhaul: 1950s: India was one of the first non-Communist countries to recognize the PRC instead of the old ROC, but I think they started distancing from each other a little while after? There were territorial disputes with Nepal and I think both countries’ governments might have told them to cut it out and be less friendly with each other because they had rather clashing agendas

- Things seem to be relaxing just a bit, but then the Sino-Indian border dispute (1962) happens, and then there are other clashes near the border, and they don’t know if they can trust each other. Additionally, there’s the Sino-Soviet split, and India is getting help from the Soviets, and it makes things more complicated between them. The relationship is on shaky ground right now, and if they meet in person, both are putting on an impersonal facade. Not very friendly. I think they’re still cooling off until at least the late 1970s, when China’s economic reform happens.

- Skipping to Modern Day: they are cool again and are close friends again. However, they know their countries are competing in population, economy, world status/power, but they’re still friends. They know it might end badly, but I think they’ve learned to roll with the good times and savor it; their pride and hearts have been stomped on already so they don’t care anymore and take risks even if they might come out feeling a bit broken. They are buddies, and they might be dating, and they don’t really care about the boundary between friends and lovers. They are comfortable with each other.

- This article, published in 2007 by Harvard Business Review, presents an interesting take on China and India’s relationship, and in particular, their economies: it says that although people think they’re destined to be rivals because of their competing business sectors, they have developed complementary strengths and it’d be foolish not to work together. I think that could somewhat summarize Indchu’s relationship with each other in the hetaliaverse; they complement each other, and even if they might become competitors, it won’t affect their friendship/relationship because they just fit together. They click; it’s not forced friendship or whatever, they just integrate into each other so well (it’s almost like they’re meant to be together).

- There are border skirmishes (ex. the incident in June 2020), but I’m not really sure how that would factor into their relationship? Maybe they’ve gotten over it and they both know the other personification doesn’t like the fighting, and that their government’s opinions come first? Or maybe it’s still unresolved between them, because India has known Yao for a long time and knows what he’s capable of, and Yao knows what a potent force India can be when he wants? Idk. I think the idea of unresolved tension is more accurate, but I also like this ship because it’s soft and /mostly/ pure in modern day and I sometimes really want to ignore historical accuracy

ONTO THE GENERAL SHIP HEADCANONS!

- They argue with each other a lot, basically like an old married couple; their jibes at each other don’t mean anything though. China insists it’s so their wits stay sharp.

- Also they have debates over various academic topics; it’s basically their fun hobby by now. They’re both intellectually matched and read rather voraciously, so it’s a fun challenge (and keeps their wits sharp)

- I mentioned it before but it’s worth bringing up again: they know exactly how to hurt each other with their words; they just don’t get into bad fights often so they don’t need to cut each other to pieces.

- China is the less sentimental one, but they’re both really good at picking out tasteful, meaningful gifts for each other. “Experiences over material items/gifts” doesn’t really appeal to either of them; they’d much rather stay home being cozy than “gifting” each other a week in the Caribbeans or something.

- T e a  l e a v e s (No Teabags unless Strictly Necessary). No coffee, sugar, cream, or milk. Sometimes India jokes about switching over to coffee or drinking tea the British way, and Yao just goes “You’re canceled”, dead seriously.

- They wear each other’s traditional clothing sometimes. Occasionally Yao asks India to wear a hanfu instead of a changshan (men’s equivalent of qipao) because he thinks it’s more traditional (qipao was invented in the 1920s). India has managed to stuff Yao into a qipao at least three times, and has pictures to prove it.

- India likes running his fingers through China’s hair (he says it’s really soft, a comment that makes Yao scoff every time) and he sorta hates his ponytail for that reason alone. Yao knows this, and he tries to make up for it by letting it down more on weekends, when he doesn’t have to look presentable (also India insists Yao looks presentable all the time, another comment that always earns a scoff).

- They teach each other their own dishes. China has been getting in the habit of substituting beef and pork for other things, mainly tofu/chicken/shiitake mushrooms

- They take walks together in the evenings after dinner when they’re in the same place. As long as it’s still light out and the weather’s not too bad, they will do it every day (even if it’s raining, they might just bring an umbrella).

- Their way of showing affection is a) with gifts and b) just talking to each other about anything. It’s their way of winding down for the day and being comfortable with each other; they have long talks about random, silly little things that happened, perhaps a funny (or stupid) meme/joke their siblings sent, or dumb stuff that happened with their boss at a meeting.

- I think they’d call each other nicknames in private. It wouldn’t be something too “sickly sweet” I guess, but something to show they care. They use nicknames sparingly as well, so it doesn’t lose meaning through overuse. (I personally hate nicknames so I’m not giving out any suggestions here, but I think Yao would use something like “亲爱的” for India, basically means “dear/beloved”. Not too flashy or sweet, but still affectionate.)

- China gifts houseplants to India’s apartment/house because he knows India likes them (I think he’s a green thumb). China doesn’t really bother with decorative plants; he prefers to grow spring onions and other low maintenance shit that he can use in his cooking lol he’s all about the practicality

- During ancient times, they had lengthy, invigorating discussions about mathematics, either through letters or in person.

- They aren't really affectionate in public; PDA is limited to hand holding and occasionally a kiss on the cheek. Neither China nor India are the type to “show off” their relationship or their partner.

- Adding onto that, they don’t really announce their relationship to everybody but if you ask them, they’ll tell you. Basically you have to be the one to notice something’s up; they just don’t think it's necessary to share every little bit of information about their lives with people. They're the “secretly married” couple trope; signs of affection are rather subtle but still noticeable because they don’t act that way to other people.

- China forced India to get a Wechat so he can send India 10¥ red packets every week just because he has the app

- Not really a ship headcanon, but these two would throw the best parties??? Like if you want a party that’s really loud and noisy and fun, ask them. They may be old and “not fun” or whatever but they know how to organize large scale events effectively and how to achieve the correct atmosphere, and despite all Yao’s siblings’ trash talk, they usually pull off very stylish, sleek functions/events. Maybe it’s a little tacky here and there but it’s barely noticeable, and everyone is just. Awed.

Yeet that’s it; thank you for reading! This got really long, and I feel like a lot of the headcanons were rather platonic, but yeah! Hope you like it!

[1989dreamer]

When the Stars Align

And here is part two of why @evanesdust​ had to be so, so patient for their prompt to be fulfilled.

AO3 Link

Written for this prompt (same as Seventy-Five Percent).

Yes, I wrote three stories for the same prompt. It was a lot of fun.

Summary: Derek has a coworker that is a little too enthusiastic about getting him alone, so he asks Stiles for help. Stiles gladly volunteers but neither of them quite know what they’re getting into. A pissed off Kate Argent isn’t to be trifled with and neither are the growing feelings Stiles has for Derek.

Tags: Stalking, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Past Child Abuse, Murderer Peter Hale, Deputy Cora Hale. Human AU, Getting Together, Fake Dating, Kate Argent is Her Own Warning, Fear, Non-descriptive Panic Attacks

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It was a beautiful Thursday afternoon, and Stiles was out at the park with his sketchbook and pencils, just trying to draw random sketches of his characters, trying to find the natural flow of their movement for the big battle they had coming up. Suddenly, almost sweetly, he heard the words: “I’m going out with Stiles.”

His head shot up. He was going out with someone? News to him. Who could be making such a bold claim?

He studied the people nearest him: Derek Hale, older brother of Stiles’ closest friend, Cora Hale; some blonde woman standing way too close to Derek; and a sallow-faced, shady-looking fellow who reminded Stiles of his sadistic chemistry teacher.

Derek pointed at Stiles. “My boyfriend,” he said, somewhat stiffly, upset and uncomfortable, and excuse him but Stiles was a national treasure. Dating him would be nothing but a delight.

The blonde woman seemed unperturbed by the fact that Derek was one) clearly trying to escape and two) his “boyfriend” was right there.

Stiles stood up, shoved his sketchpad under his arm, and sauntered over to them. He cocked a hip and tucked a hand around Derek’s waist, noting the way Derek sagged against him in relief. “What’s up, babe? These idiots bothering you?”

The woman’s face sank into a sour expression, and Stiles almost laughed at how angry she appeared. Almost as if she’d known Derek was lying to her, but Stiles had decided to play along. Whatever. It wasn’t like Stiles had anything better to do than to rescue the older brothers of his friends.

The woman stuck out her hand. “Kate Argent,” she said, as sour as her face.

Stiles ignored her hand. “Stiles, Derek’s other half.”

“Certainly not the better half,” Kate laughed, something malicious lurking beneath her false smile.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Derek said, and wasn’t he being so sweet? Stiles pinched him to make him close his mouth.

“Now, my question still stands: are you bothering my boyfriend?”

Kate didn’t answer. Instead, she stomped off, her companion trailing after her. Derek didn’t immediately pull away, which surprised Stiles.

“What’s up with that?” Stiles asked when Derek finally disentangled himself.

Derek rolled his shoulders. “I don’t know,” he mumbled. “She works with me. Technically she’s my boss.”

“And how does dating me come into it?”

Derek rolled his shoulders again and Stiles realized that he was shrugging.

“If you date me for, say, a month and then break up with me, spectacularly, publicly, Kate would think I’m undateable and she’ll leave me alone.”

“And why me?”

Derek shrugged again. “I panicked?” he offered.

“Oh, I see. I’m the convenient choice.”

“No,” Derek said. “I just.” He blew out a breath. “You were right there. I knew you. I’m sorry. You don’t have to do it. I can find someone else.”

For some reason, that was more of an insult to Stiles than the fact that Derek had chosen him in the first place. “Now, wait a minute.” He grabbed Derek’s hand. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it.”

Derek’s eyebrows scrunched together. “You’ll do it?”

Stiles nodded. “Who knows why? Probably because you’re the big brother of my best friend, and Cora will never let me hear the end of it if I let you get pressured into dating your boss.”

Derek made a face. “Cora can’t know about the fake dating thing,” he said.

“Why not?” Stiles shook his head. “She’s my best friend. Of course, she’s going to know.”

Derek sighed. “Fine. It’s not like she wouldn’t have found out anyway.”

“So, what are your rules for dating?” Derek shrugged. “No, seriously. What’s on the table? What’s off? Pet names? Touching? What kind of dates do you want to go on? I mean, you want Kate to actually think we’re dating, right?”

“I guess?” Derek frowned. “I-I think so? Would it be easier to meet up at, like, one of our apartments and plan this out?”

“Sure. That works. Want to go now?”

Derek nodded. Honestly, he looked a little lost. Something wasn’t adding up. “Why can’t you just tell Kate’s boss or HR that she’s bothering you? Why go through this subterfuge?”

Derek sighed, and Stiles felt the vibration of it in his chest. Derek was bone tired, exhausted, and frustrated. He was thoroughly vexed.

“Kate is the HR department,” he said. “Her dad owns the company. All my coworkers just tell me to buckle down and date her.”

“But,” Stiles said.

“I’m not comfortable with dating. There’s been rumors of some of the men she’s dated before. She likes challenges, likes to break her partners. She’s taken my disinterest as a challenge.”

“There’s got to be some way to report her. Will any of her former partners file a police report against her?”

“I don’t know. I think she, like, collects evidence that her partners are the ones who hurt her.”

Stiles shuddered. “Dude, I am so sorry that she’s targeting you.”

“So am I.” Derek sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry I got you involved. Kate will probably try and scare you off. I don’t know what tactics she’ll use, so I can’t warn you more.”

“Well, how about we worry about the logistics of the dating before we worry about what Kate will or won’t do?”

Derek nodded, sitting down on the grass next to Stiles. He held out his hands, like he was showing that he was unarmed. Stiles smiled at him. While he hadn’t known Derek well when he and Cora were in school together, he’d been the cool older brother. The hot, cool older brother that Stiles sometimes daydreamed about kissing until he lost his edge.

Talking to Derek now, finding out that he liked some of the same things Stiles did and dates would be easy enough, that he liked slow dancing and kissing in the rain, that it took more than a few meetings before he made up his mind as to whether or not he actually liked someone romantically was all cute and good. It also made it a little more embarrassing that Stiles wanted to kiss him even more now.

Derek nodded at the sketchbook. “Anything good?”

“Just character studies,” Stiles replied. He was not in the habit of sharing his work before it was ready to publish. He was also used to people not respecting his boundaries when he said he didn’t want to share, that he was already expecting Derek to demand his sketchbook anyway.

“Cool,” Derek said. He gripped a handful of grass, tugging at it too gently to break any blades. “I write stories that are sort of like that.”

“Oh really?” Stiles smiled to let Derek know that he thought that was cool too, but it was wasted because Derek never looked up. “Hey,” Stiles said, “you know that if you put words on paper, then you’re a writer regardless of what anyone else tells you, right?”

“Right.” Stiles heard the disbelief in Derek’s voice. He could also relate to being told that his “hobby” wasn’t a form of real art. Well, he had time. He would start working with Derek to shed the negativity and embrace his passion.

“So, um,” Derek said, “did you want to do the first date tonight?”

“Yes,” Stiles said before Derek could take it back. “Absolutely. Pick you up at 7:00?”

“Sounds good.” Derek pulled out a small book, tore out a piece of paper, wrote down his address and phone number. “Just text me something so I have your number too.” He handed the paper to Stiles.

“Absolutely.” Stiles waved when Derek stood up. As soon as Derek was out of sight, Stiles sent two texts.

One to Derek: This is stiles now u have my #

And one to Cora: Dating ur bro don’t make it weird

Derek did not respond immediately, but Cora did.

Y

Y what

Y my brother. Leave derek alone u ass

He’s my bf now. Srsly tho, i’m helping him. Don’t give him grief

Fine. But if he cries over u, i break ur knees

Fair

Stiles set his phone aside and picked up his sketchbook again, tracing the shadow under his main character’s face. It wasn’t perfect, but Stiles wasn’t trying. This had been an exercise to get him out of his apartment. Finding out that Derek was in need of a rescue just like Malcolm was not at all how he planned his Thursday to go, but it was still nice enough. Besides, he’d secured a date with the hottest senior at Beacon Hills High—never mind that Derek hadn’t been a senior in high school for almost seven years and Stiles had graduated college and moved back to help out his dad, who was looking to retire from the position of Sheriff of Beacon County within the next two or three years. He’d started taking some graphic design classes at the community college when he realized he could only get so far with his self-taught art.

He still liked hand-drawing things, and he was almost ready to move onto sketching Mallorca when his pad was forcibly lowered.

He gripped his pencil, aware of how much damage he could inflict even though it was dull. Kate’s face popped into view and Stiles restrained his hand.

“What do you want?” he said, blandly. Uninterested. Kate seemed the type of person to hate that.

Stiles was right. She barely waited a second more before thumping his sketchbook down on his lap.

“Listen, Styles,” she hissed.

“Stiles,” he corrected.

Kate looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “That’s what I said.”

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “You said ‘Styles,’ like style of clothing or something. My name is ‘Stiles,’ with an i.”

Kate glared at him. “Whatever. Just stay away from Derek Hale. He may think he’s your boyfriend, but there’s only one person who’s right for him, and it’s not you.”

“Maybe so,” Stiles agreed easily, “but you know who has to make that decision? Derek. Not you.” He picked up his sketchbook, tucked away his pencils, and walked away from Kate.

This wasn’t high school. And no one should ever be able to call dibs on a person anyway.

Kate needed to grow up, but Stiles doubted that she ever would. She’d had lines by her eyes and a little gray in her hair under the bad dye job. She’d probably never had to work for anything in her life, working in Daddy’s company, having men thrown at her feet either by themselves or by circumstances.

If dating Derek got Kate off his back, then Stiles was game.

His phone chimed.

Derek.

Thanks. What did you want to do tonight? Dinner? Movie?

Stiles paused, thinking. He’d only been planning on taking Derek out to The Boot, a steakhouse on the edge of town. Jeans and flannel almost a requirement. But a movie…No, Stiles didn’t like movies for first dates. There was a small park—just a bench and some trees—near Stiles’ apartment that he liked to sit outside and dream up new adventures for his webcomic.

Maybe he could take Derek there?

Stargazing actually. If thats okay?

Derek’s reply came a few seconds later. Sounds good. Thanks.

Stiles couldn’t help the elation those words gave him. Yeah, it was Derek’s idea to pick out Stiles as a potential date, but the fact that he was agreeable to Stiles’ suggestions was a nice departure from Stiles’ usual dates.

See you at 7.

Stiles smiled at his phone, sending, See u then and then basically floating home, his steps light and unfettered.

He would make tonight awesome for Derek. And himself. The start of something new and beautiful.

The end would be fiery, and he’d have to guard his heart, but there wasn’t any harm in playing pretend, right? Thinking of a future where Derek did really want to date him. Where Kate Argent wasn’t a reason Derek needed safety or that Stiles could provide that safety.

Yeah. It was a nice fantasy.

~ * ~

The Boot wasn’t too crowded and the food only so-so, but when Derek got going, he could tell a story and keep Stiles sitting on the edge of his seat.

Using interrogation tactics gleaned from a lifetime as the son of a law officer, Stiles managed to extract Derek’s online persona from him, filing away the information for later in case he had to live a sudden Derek-less existence.

Like after publicly breaking up with Derek to make him undesirable.

After their meal, which Derek paid for and Stiles vowed to get the next one, they headed to the little park by Stiles’ apartment. He was acutely aware that sometime during their meal, the sallow-faced man Kate had been with showed up, and now he was following them.

“Excuse me a moment,” Stiles said, ducking into the bushes, like he was going to take a leak. Instead, as soon as he was out of sight, he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Cora, asking her to look into Kate Argent and her associates.

Cora was a junior deputy at the Beacon County Sheriff’s Department and as such had access to resources that Stiles could only dream of—legally—obtaining.

Her reply came immediately: What am I looking for?

Stiles made sure his flash was off before he took a quick snap of Derek standing under the streetlight, back tense, facing down the sallow-faced man, who was perfectly illuminated, if even more washed out because of the quality of the light.

Fella on the left

On it

Stiles put away his phone and stepped out from the bushes, tugging at his zipper like he was just redoing it.

Derek sagged, visibly relieved to see him.

“Problems?” Stiles asked, putting his arm around Derek’s waist, making sure to keep his hand from actually touching him to keep up with the illusion that he’d just handled his dick.

“No,” Derek lied.

The man nodded his agreement. “Just thought I recognized him.”

“And do you?”

“Yeah,” again it was Derek who spoke. “This is Jerry. He works in Kate’s office with her.”

“Jerry, huh? Well, glad to see that you’re not a stranger I have to call the cops on. Just a coworker.”

Jerry shrugged. “I’m not who you should be worried about.”

“And neither is Kate. Go tell her the date was great. And we’re going to have sex now.”

Jerry scuttled away, his expression somewhat relieved. Puzzling.

Stiles’ phone pinged and he checked it to find a text from Cora.

Jerry has priors. Stay clear of him.

Priors, huh. Could be why he hung around Kate so much outside of work, if she had something on him.

Will do, he sent back. Well, he would certainly try. If Kate and Jerry had plans to keep running into Derek and him when they were on dates, Beacon Hills wasn’t the largest.

“Let’s get you home,” Stiles said to Derek, wondering at the stricken look he received in return.

“I thought we were supposed to go stargazing?”

“Yeah, if you want. I thought after running into Jerry, you might want to go home so that you wouldn’t risk running into him again.”

“I mean, isn’t it better to give them more evidence that we’re dating?”

“Sure. Okay.” Stiles took Derek’s hand, led him to the park. The whole way, he couldn’t shake the sensation that he’d done something wrong.

They sat on a bench, and Stiles let his head fall back. Even though they were competing with all the light pollution of the city, the stars were still breathtaking. Stiles liked to imagine that he was on a different world, exploring like his webcomic. It sure beat studying graphic design and living in his skin some days.

“Are we really going to have sex?” Derek asked quietly after a few minutes.

“No.” Stiles moved his head so that he could see Derek’s profile. “Did you want to?” He’d thought the whole ruse of them dating was to get Kate off Derek’s back so that he wouldn’t have to be assaulted.

And then he remembered what he’d said to Jerry.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting up and turning to face Derek. “I shouldn’t have said that, and especially not without clearing it with you first.”

Derek shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. Derek, you’re allowed to be upset and to stand up for yourself. That’s what the ground rules are for. If I say or do something that makes you uncomfortable, then I need to know so that I don’t do it again.”

Derek nodded. “Okay. So, wanna point out any constellations?”

Happily, Stiles leaned back, lifting an arm. And then realized that Derek was putting him on. Amateur stargazer that he was in his spare time.

As first dates went, it wasn’t either the best or the worst, but it was a solid seven-and-a-half in Stiles’ book, and he had to remind himself, after walking Derek home, that they weren’t really dating.

It would undeniably get more difficult the longer they played the ruse, but at least there was an end. Even if it painted Stiles as the bad guy. It wasn’t like Stiles needed his reputation to remain pristine for Kate Argent. In fact, the more she disliked him, the better in his opinion.

Maybe he could work this storyline into his webcomic. It wasn’t like his adventurers were currently on an adventure.

On the one hand, Stiles had based Malcolm on Derek, subconsciously. And something like this—needing to pretend to date to throw off an unwanted suitor—was something Malcolm could potentially encounter. On the other, more logical hand, Derek probably read Stiles’ webcomic. Cora certainly did. Better not to muddle it with real life situations.

Shame though. It’d make a great arc. Even though he’d need to create a whole new character because Mallorca was asexual and uninterested in dating anyone platonically, and Stiles already knew that if he put a fake-dating in his comic, he’d have to end it as a real love story. Too bad real life couldn’t mimic fiction.

Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets and stalked home, mind already spinning with the storyline he couldn’t post.

~ * ~

Stiles woke up to a barrage of texts. Some from Cora. One from Derek. And seventeen from an unknown number.

Stiles opened Derek’s text first.

Kate got your number. I let Cora know too. If she bugs you, file a report. Maybe we can get her on harassment.

Stiles turned to Cora’s three texts.

Derek told me about kate getting ur #

If she bothers u let me kno

Come by the station. We’ll get u set up w/reports

He sent a text to each Hale thanking them for their concern. And then he read each and every one of the unknown texts.

It was definitely Kate.

She moved from a joking tone to downright threatening.

Well, Stiles knew what he was doing with his morning. Derek and Cora were right that he needed to establish a pattern of harassment. He’d suspected that being in Derek’s orbit was dangerous but to actively be threatened with bodily harm was another thing. Kate wasn’t stupid enough to actually threaten him, was she?

No. It was more likely that these texts were from Jerry or some other associate-slash-lackey.

Still. Stiles could give the phone’s owner hell. Maybe teach Kate a lesson by proxy.

He shot another text to Cora, letting her know that he’d stop by the station because of the texts he’d received.

Then, he took a shower, grabbed his textbook for his 1:00 class, and headed out.

Cora met him at the front desk. She snapped her fingers at him until he surrendered his phone.

While she copied the texts to an evidentiary phone, he poked his head into his dad’s office.

“Stiles,” Dad said in the way that usually meant he wasn’t pleased to see him. “I hear you’ve got a new boyfriend.”

Stiles winced. “Yeah. Meant to tell you about that.”

“You’re an adult. You can make your own decisions.” Dad rummaged in his desk until he found a bottle of antacids. He popped a couple in his mouth, chewing with a grimace. “You’re not here because your boyfriend is being a possessive asshole, are you?”

“No, not my boyfriend.” Stiles winced again. “Actually, it’s someone who wants to date my boyfriend. Kate Argent. She didn’t use her own phone to text me. She’s too smart for that.”

“Great.” Dad ran a hand over his face, digging at his eyes. “So who’s phone did she use?”

“That I don’t know. I think Cora is trying to figure that out now.”

“Great.” Dad rattled the antacids before putting them back in his desk. “Keep us in the loop if there are more incidents. And tell your boyfriend that I’d like to meet him some day too.”

“Dad,” Stiles whined, “it’s still so new. Let us see if there’s something there before we start introducing each other to families.”

Cora knocked on the door before his dad could open his mouth again. She handed Stiles his phone. “You were right that Kate didn’t use her own phone. She used Jerry’s. The kind of threats on there…” she whistled. “Well, let’s just say that it violates his parole.”

“So Kate’s burning her bridges.” Stiles bit his lip. “Hey so, Jerry followed us when we were on our date yesterday.” He blushed, embarrassed that he’d even said anything at all last night. “I told him we were going to have sex because I knew he was only following us on Kate’s orders.”

“And did you?” Dad asked.

“No, not that that’s any of your business. Thing is, Kate might be punishing Jerry for bringing her news she didn’t want to hear.”

“That’s definitely a possibility.” Dad sighed. “Okay, Stiles. I know you have class today. How about you head out? Let us know if you get any more texts.”

“Will do.” Stiles left the station with a nod to Cora. What a fucking mess. Derek didn’t need a boyfriend: he needed a bodyguard. Hell, Stiles needed a bodyguard after this morning.

How could Derek continue to work at Kate’s family’s company when she was such a menace?

Or maybe it was the fact that Derek was “dating” Stiles that made her flip out on him.

Whatever the reason, Stiles needed to warn Derek. There was a good chance that Kate would escalate, and Derek was probably her intended victim.

She was worse than what Derek had said. She was dangerous and volatile. And Stiles wanted to be the one to bring her down. He didn’t want to hide or let her win because doing either of those things meant that she’d get Derek, and that was not an acceptable outcome.

Yes, they were fake-dating, but that didn’t mean Stiles didn’t care for or not love Derek.

He sent a text to Derek, asking to meet him after class ended at 5:00 and to watch out in case Kate tried anything retaliatory.

Then, he tried not to vibrate out of his skin with pent up anticipation and worry and every negative emotion he could feel in a four hour span.

~ * ~

Derek brought Stiles a coffee when they met at the park by Stiles’ apartment.

Stiles accepted the coffee and sat on the bench. His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing up and down, no matter how he pressed on it. “Hey, so did Kate do anything to you today?”

“No.” Derek took the seat next to Stiles, put his hand on his knee and then pulled back. “She was tied up in meetings all day. Jerry, though, got arrested over lunch.”

“Oh?” Stiles tried to play at being surprised but Derek touched his leg again. “Okay, yeah. So I think it was Kate, but someone blew up my phone today with threats and things.”

“Are you okay?” The worried furrow that appeared between Derek’s brows was adorable, and before he could stop himself, Stiles reached out to smooth it away. Derek smiled at the gesture.

“I’m fine. I filed a report with the Sheriff’s Department. That’s probably why Jerry got arrested. It was probably his phone.”

“I’m sorry that I got you roped into this. I didn’t think that she’d try and go after you.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Stiles took a sip of the coffee. It was too sweet, but that was okay. There was plenty of time to teach Derek how he liked his coffee. “If she gets mad enough, she’s going to make mistakes. We can stop her with those mistakes.”

“Yeah but, I just don’t want one of her mistakes to be hurting you.”

“That’s so sweet.” To make his point, Stiles sipped at the coffee again. “Look, Derek, you knew she was possessive. It’s why you made yourself unavailable. Anything she does is on her. And your sister is a freaking deputy. Kate should know better than to mess with you.”

“And yet,” Derek murmured.  He set his hand on Stiles’ knee again, and Stiles realized that his leg wasn’t bouncing anymore. “I don’t want you to get hurt because of Kate, so I think we should back off the dating thing.”

“You think so? I mean, if Kate was mad enough to burn one of her associates because of one date, imagine how much damage she’ll do to herself the longer we ‘date.’”

“I guess.”

“Besides, I thought the date was actually kind of good. And if Jerry isn’t going to be around to interrupt us again, then all the more reason to do it again.”

Derek looked away. “I don’t want to trap you,” he said quietly. “I panicked when Kate demanded that I produce my boyfriend immediately. I saw you drawing, and I—I blanked. You were familiar and that’s why I picked you out. I’m sorry.”

Stiles managed to hook a finger under Derek’s chin and draw his gaze back. “I wouldn’t have agreed to date you if I hadn’t wanted to help out.”

“But it’s not real dating,” Derek said, bitterly.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s doing what it needs to do,” Stiles said, just as bitter. He was a little mad that Derek kept reminding him that it wasn’t real. Stiles wished it were, but he also didn’t know how to broach that subject, especially because it was officially only the second day they’d been dating. And how had his dad heard about it? Stiles hadn’t told him, hadn’t wanted to jeopardize whatever rapport he and Derek had. After all, it wouldn’t do for his dad to confront Derek and announce “About damn time.” Yeah, Stiles had been friendless for nearly three years after his childhood best friend Scott McCall had transferred to a school close to his grandmother after his mother was injured in a workplace accident and his dad couldn’t take him in.

In retrospect, it probably hadn’t been Stiles’ best idea to get drunk and confess to his dad that he was bisexual and crushing on the star of the basketball team. Surprisingly, his dad had taken it well and had taken to teasing Stiles about seeing Derek when he and Cora became friends.

Now it was a matter of time before Dad hunted down Derek and demanded to have a father-boyfriend talk with him. And knowing his dad, he would probably take the opportunity to embarrass Stiles with his long-standing crush. Nope. Better to keep them apart.

“Look, Kate was probably upset because Jerry reported what I said to him.”

Derek shot Stiles a scathing look. “You think I don’t know that? Why’d you tell him that anyway? It’s not like I do that. And especially not on the first date.”

“But that wasn’t supposed to have been our first date,” Stiles pointed out. “I mean, it went toward establishing our—your alibi to having been dating me for a while.”

Derek flushed, glaring at his lap. “I guess,” he mumbled, as close to a “You’re right” Stiles was likely to get.

It did not make him feel any better. He’d still used Derek, albeit in a way that had actually helped his case. Maybe. Still, Stiles felt skeevy, like Kate had crawled under his skin and jack-hammered the crudeness of declaring sexing up Derek Hale out of his mouth.

It was not a pleasant sensation.

“I am sorry about telling him that.”

Derek shrugged, and Stiles realized he was trying to play it cool. Why though? “It’s not that big of a deal. I mean, as you pointed out, if we’ve been dating for a while, it’s pretty obvious that we would have started having sex at some point.”

Or maybe not, Stiles thought, studying Derek’s suddenly green face. “Dude, are you sex-repulsed?”

“What?”

It was Stiles’ turn to shrug. “I don’t know. Like, the thought of sex, especially you having sex, makes you feel physically sick or something. Repulsed by the idea of sex.”

Derek looked thoughtful for a minute. “Maybe,” he finally said. “I guess. Cora just calls me asexual.”

“That’s probably a part of it.” And now Stiles felt even worse about telling Jerry that he and Derek were off to do the horizontal tango. Great. Guilt felt a lot like heartburn, except Stiles wouldn’t be able to chew a few antacids and have it go away. “So, I’ll understand if you really don’t want my help anymore.” Stiles bit off the rest, Not that I’ve been much help so far, because this really was not about him and he had actually helped even if it was just Kate throwing a tantrum.

“No. Kate probably smells blood,” Derek said. “She’ll probably double-down and I don’t know if I can deal with that alone.”

“Hey, you’re not alone,” Stiles hurried to assure him. “You’ve got Cora and you’ll still have me on your side even if you decide that the fake-dating isn’t working out.”

Derek seemed to think about that for a few minutes before nodding slowly. “Yeah. Okay. Hey thanks, Stiles.”

He leaned over, gave Stiles a one-armed hug, and then jumped to his feet. “I was wondering if you wanted to schedule another date now? Maybe Sunday night? There’s this really cool spot out in the preserve. Even better for looking at stars than this park. Would you like to go?”

Stiles couldn’t stop the smile or the skip in his heartbeat. “I’d love to,” he said, trying to force his tone not to jump. He wasn’t very successful but Derek didn’t seem to notice that he was unnecessarily happy for their next date. “Midnight picnic?”

“Sounds great. I’ll pack the food.”

“Okay, see you Sunday.”

Derek smiled and walked off.

Almost immediately the guilt came back, wriggling its way into his mind, spreading tendrils of doubt and disgust.

Stiles sighed, deflating down as he thought about just what he was doing. How could he survive a month of dating Derek, a month of “pretending” to be in love, and then break up like nothing happened?

How was he supposed to yell at Derek and make him un-date-able when Stiles was walking-breathing proof that someone wanted to date Derek?

He cursed himself for not asking out Derek earlier. Yes, Derek probably would have said no. It was his sister’s friend. They’d known each other since Stiles was a freshman and Derek was a senior in high school. It would have been weird, and Stiles would have been hurt by the rejection, but it surely would be better than this pseudo-relationship they were in.

Stiles needed advice, and he only knew one expert on Derek Hale. Well, only one that he was willing to talk to. Derek had another, older sister who still sometimes scared Stiles.

And there was no way Stiles was talking to either of Derek’s parents.

Nope. Cora was his go-to encyclopedia on her brother. Even after eight years.

He shot her a text, asking to meet to discuss personal things.

Her reply was almost immediate: told u

Which, no she hadn’t. She’d threatened his knees over text and then laughed her ass off when he told her face to face about dating Derek, because apparently her brother was indeed un-date-able and definitely some form of asexual. She revealed that he’d never even confessed crushes in high school.

“Sucks,” was what she’d said before she changed the subject to the upcoming Beacon Hills celebration days.

Well, told-you-so or not, Stiles still needed advice, and Cora was still going to give it to him, whether she wanted to or not.

~ * ~

Well, being adults kind of got in the way, and Stiles had papers due that he worked on all day Saturday, and Cora had a double shift at the station, so it wasn’t until Sunday afternoon that their schedules finally managed to line up enough for him to crash into her room and fall onto her bed, spilling out the whole story, leaving nothing out. Before, he’d only told her that he was going to be dating her brother as an experiment, per Derek, not him.

“You did what now?” Cora asked for the third time.

“I agreed to fake-date Derek even though I am in love with him,” Stiles dutifully repeated for the third time.

“Why would you do that?”

Finally. A different question.

Stiles shrugged. “You weren’t there. You didn’t see how uncomfortable he was. And Kate wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Derek told me that she’s targeted other men like him and that she always gets away with it because she files reports first.”

Cora narrowed her eyes. “Reports like what?”

“Rape and assault.”

“Jesus fuck, really?”

Stiles nodded.

“So you were helping him?”

“More like he panicked, picked me out so that he wasn’t ‘available,’ and then I agreed to keep up the charade.”

“And now you’re here,” Cora confirmed. “In love with my brother and fake-dating him.”

“Yep.”

“So is the public dumping still on?”

“Is Kate in custody yet?” Stiles countered. Cora glared at him. “Then yes. Yes it is.”

“Well that’s fantastic. Are you planning on telling my brother that you’re in love with him?”

“Ah, no. I was actually hoping that avoiding that particular problem might make it go away.”

Cora blew out a breath through her nose. Secretly, Stiles agreed. He didn’t think this was a problem that time would solve. In fact, the longer he let Derek believe that he was just helping him out instead of trying to save up as many memories of dating Derek as possible, the more their separation was going to hurt. Stiles knew he could heal from a broken heart because he’d done it before. He’d just never had to heal from his first crush.

And he didn’t want to. Selfishly, he wanted Derek to realize that dating Stiles was the best thing ever and they would never break up. Mopey, he voiced this sentiment to Cora.

“Well, you could always confess your feelings to, you know, the object of your feelings.” Stiles vigorously shook his head. “Then, something else you can do is just never break up with him. Eventually he’ll have to realize that you’re dating.”

And then Stiles would get promptly broken up with.

“We need to remove the threat of Kate,” Stiles said. “Without the excuse of why we’re dating, I can maybe ask him out again properly.”

“So how do you get rid of Kate?” Cora asked.

Stiles thought for a few minutes. “Well, she blew up my phone with threats after learning that Derek and I were ‘going to have sex.’” He aggressively shoved his air quotes in Cora’s face in an attempt to ward off any smacks or grossed out reactions she might have to him fucking her brother.

Cora fell over laughing. “Derek? Having sex?” She was practically hooting, and while Stiles understood the sentiment, it still stung.

“Hardy har har,” he intoned. “Yes, me having sex with your asexual brother is so fucking funny.”

Cora swallowed her laughs and sat up. “I’m sorry. That was really mean. It’s just, growing up with Derek gives me a perspective that maybe you’ll get to learn someday. There’s no way Derek’s having sex any time soon. In fact, if he ever has sex, I’ll buy you a diamond ring.”

“The diamond market is an evil industry and I won’t be a party to its support.”

“Jesus, Stilinski, it’s just an expression. I’m never going to actually buy you a ring of any kind.” She paused, staring into space, before a gleam came into her eyes. Stiles did not like that look. That look got him in trouble for boosting his dad’s whiskey sophomore year, leading to his bisexual confession. That look got them busted for sneaking into the only bar in Beacon Hills that didn’t card minors but called their parents.

That look was going to be the death of him one day, and while he might protest the whole way, he was still going to do whatever it was that gave Cora that look.

“What if you could incite Kate into giving herself up just by doing something really simple?” Cora asked, far more innocently than whatever she had planned.

“And how can I do that?” Stiles returned, apprehensively.

“By proposing.”

“To Kate?”

Cora hit his arm lightly. “No, idiot,” she said affectionately. “To Derek.” Stiles stared at her, incredulous. “I mean,” she rolled her eyes, “instead of breaking up with him, propose to him. Publicly so that Kate gets wind of it right away. I’ll be there so I can arrest her if she tries anything.”

“It’s been a day,” Stiles said. “If I propose now, Derek will think I’m crazy.”

“You can always ask him out again. Right now, isn’t it more important to get rid of Kate? As long as she’s around, your relationship will always be about keeping her away from Derek. Without that threat, Derek would be more open to dating you.”

“If he forgives me,” Stiles muttered.

Cora waved away his concern. “I’ll make sure he still likes you after.”

“Wait, he likes me now?”

Cora snorted. “No. He doesn’t like anyone. It’s Derek. You remember him from high school.”

“I remember him being really hot and me being too chickenshit to talk to him.”

“Well, you’re certainly not shy now,” Cora pointed out. She stood up and grabbed something off her dresser. She tossed it at Stiles, and he juggled it before she plopped down next to him again.

“What is this?” Stiles knew it was a ring box. Why Cora had given it to him, he didn’t understand. Was he supposed to use this ring to propose to Derek?

Cora opened the box, revealing a simple silver band set with a single black stone. “Zirconium,” Cora explained. “Not a real diamond.”

“Suits you,” Stiles said, because it did. Cora had had a goth phase in high school, and the only reason she probably still didn’t wear all black was because of her job. And that was only because Beacon County deputies wore brown uniforms.

She didn’t paint her nails or wear heavy makeup but that was probably because Cora was Newton’s First Law embodied—a body at rest will stay at rest even if that body wants to have heavy eyeliner and black fingernails.

“And this ring won’t be weird to propose to your brother with?” Stiles asked. He couldn’t see Derek wearing any jewelry. Hell, he never saw him wear his class ring even after agonizing about getting it.

“Well, it’s not like you’re really proposing. You’re just trying to get Kate off his back long enough for me to find something to charge her with.”

“And you’ll definitely be there?”

“How do you think Derek is getting there?” Cora paused. “You are proposing at the mall, right?”

“It is the most public place in Beacon Hills, and Derek did want it to be public.”

“Good. Okay, so I’ll make sure Kate is there to witness it.” She closed the ring box. “Stiles, Derek might say yes if he feels pressured, like if he sees Kate, so if you’re expecting him to break up on the spot, he might not.”

“I’m already fucked,” Stiles said, tucking the ring box into his pocket. “It’s not like I can fall anymore in love with him.”

“Don’t speak your own prophecy,” Cora said. “I’ll do my part, but Derek can’t know that I suggested the proposal. He’d never forgive me.”

“Oh, so it’s okay if he hates me after?” Stiles asked, just a little bitter. Derek was Cora’s brother. He’d eventually be okay with her. Stiles, though, wasn’t family, and as soon as he’d outlived his usefulness, Derek would have no obligation to keep in contact with him. It sucked that this was Stiles’ dream but Derek’s nightmare.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t hate you forever,” Cora promised.

Time would tell if it was an empty promise.

“Okay, so, should I have a script or do you want to leave it up to chance?”

“Words,” Cora immediately replied, retrieving a notebook and pen from under the bed. She flipped to a blank page and wrote at the top: Stiles’s Proposal Speech.

Then, she sat and tapped her pen on the paper for about five minutes.

“Can’t think of anything?” Stiles asked. “Like, maybe I should mention that even though it’s been such a short time, I already know that I want to spend the rest of my life with him? Or is that too much?”

“Might be a bit much for Derek, but it’s perfect for Kate.” Cora wrote it down. “Got anything else?”

Stiles had plenty of other ideas, years of observing and loving Derek from afar was enlightening, but he didn’t want to burn everything on this proposal that wasn’t even going to be real. So he only gave Cora a few more ideas, checked his phone for the time, and made the excuse of having to get ready for the date with Derek to escape.

Cora didn’t respond, too busy stringing together his ideas into what was certainly going to be a melodramatic, eloquent speech.

Stiles would collect it tomorrow, and then he and Cora would set the trap for Kate. It felt like trapping Derek too.

And Stiles was not okay with that.

It was one thing for Derek to claim him as a boyfriend to try to escape Kate’s persistence, but it was another thing entirely to trap Derek in that lie by proposing and having Kate there. Of course, Stiles could always take it back after Kate was arrested, but that was if Kate reacted the way they expected her to. If she didn’t, and Derek still was pressured to say yes, then Stiles thought he was no better than Kate.

He took a deep breath, took out his phone to text Derek to cancel tonight, and saw a message from Derek.

Just wanted to say, really looking forward to tonight. I really like hanging out with you, and I’m so thankful you’re here.

Stiles paused, mind spinning. Derek liked him? He would have given anything in high school for Derek to acknowledge him, but now, it felt cheapened.

Can’t wait 2, Stiles texted back. And that was not what he needed to say, but he figured he could think about it and talk to Derek tonight. Maybe they wouldn’t even need Cora’s plan if Kate realized that they were going on a date to an isolated area.

But that sounded like a great way to get murdered by her without having backup.

Stiles shook his head. He didn’t even know what was right anymore. Get rid of Kate by proposing to Derek? Don’t propose to Derek?

Either way, he wanted one last date with Derek before the shit hit the fan. He’d make tonight the best that he could and then if Derek decided to break contact after tomorrow, then Stiles could subsist on the what-if of a relationship with Derek with reality sprinkled in.

Life was going to suck so much, but Stiles was used to it. Mostly.

~ * ~

He and Derek met at the entrance to the preserve, and Stiles scoffed at the “No Entry After Dark” sign. The Hales had installed it after a few too many teens got caught out there, having the kind of fun their parents didn’t want them to have.

It was a lame measure, easily navigable, except for the stretched chain that meant they couldn’t take any vehicles with them.

Derek hefted a basket that must have held the midnight picnic, and Stiles lifted the chain so he could duck under it. It gave him the perfect opportunity to ogle Derek’s ass, but he couldn’t enjoy it. Guilt was choking down most of his other emotions and, not for the first time, he was thinking it had been a grave mistake to come here.

Even worse was there was no cell phone service out here so he couldn’t even send an SOS text to Cora.

It wasn’t long before Derek made him forget about his misgivings. They lied on a blanket, looking up at the stars. Which were definitely more visible without the light pollution of Beacon Hills.

It wasn’t Stiles’ intention, but he found himself talking about his webcomic, about the adventures the characters were on. Turned out Derek was a big fan, had read it from the start.

“Don’t be mad,” he prefaced his confession. “Cora told me all about it back when you first started posting it. I liked it enough to keep coming back.”

Stiles smiled. He didn’t mind. He hadn’t sworn Cora to secrecy until after the comic had taken off and gained Internet fame. It was actually a relief that Derek had seen the comic and hadn’t made the connection that Malcolm was based on him.

Before he quite knew it, they’d been there for three hours, and Derek was dozing, head on his shoulder.

Stiles nudged him. “Should we go home?” he asked, thinking of the sign at the entrance of the preserve.

Derek yawned, snuggling closer. “Don’t wanna move,” he mumbled.

“We should though,” Stiles said. “I’m sure that even your parents don’t want you out here all night.”

Derek sighed before sitting up. “You’re right. Come on. We can crash at my parents if we’re too tired to drive home. They live just off the side of the preserve.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he should take Derek up on that offer, but he had to admit that it was really nice to have Derek next to him as he fell asleep. And just like that the guilt was back.

“I should get back to my apartment. I have class tomorrow.”

“And you let me have a late date?” Derek asked, incredulous.

Stiles shrugged. “I really like hanging out with you. It’s not a big deal, and it’s not like I’d already be in bed anyway.”

“Still, I don’t want to get in the way of your schooling. Or your interests. You don’t have to go on dates with me. It’s not like Kate’s watching us that closely.”

Stiles grunted in agreement. Except, the minute they were back on the access road and had service again, both their phones dinged with incoming messages.

Stiles had several texts from an unknown number and two voicemails. Derek frowned down at his phone. Stiles punched in his voicemail.

Cora.

“Stiles, where the fuck are you? Don’t go back to your apartment. We got a call out. Fire was dispatched. Kate Argent—not proven of course—just burned your apartment down. Call me back now.”

Sent almost an hour ago.

Stiles turned to Derek, and he was ashen, his own phone to his ear. Faintly, Stiles could hear someone screaming over the speaker.

“Are you okay?”

Derek nodded, but he didn’t move even when the message either stopped or dropped to a volume Stiles could no longer hear.

Stiles dialed Cora’s number, putting her on speaker. “Stiles! Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m at the preserve,” he answered, “with Derek. We’re both okay.”

“Stay right there. The Sheriff is sending a deputy out to you.”

“What’s up with my apartment? Someone burned it down?”

Cora blew out a breath. “We won’t know until the arson investigator takes a look at it. We were able to save most of the building, but you’ll have to file reports with your insurance.”

“That’s just great.” Stiles sighed, running a hand over his head and tugging at his hair. “Thanks for doing that, Cora.”

“Don’t thank me yet. Just get in your car and lock the doors. The deputy should be where you are in less than half an hour. And keep Derek with you.”

Derek moved to lean over Stiles’ phone. “Why?”

Cora blew out a breath. “We’ve found some disturbing imagery at the scene,” she said. “You’re both not safe.”

“Cora, I got some messages from Kate, I think. It was a little hard to understand what she was saying. I’ll pass on the messages when the deputy gets here.”

Someone spoke to Cora, their words coming through the line like a heavy blur. Stiles thought he recognized his dad’s voice though.

“Okay, so the Sheriff wants you to go to the Sheriff’s Station. Someone will meet you there to take copies of the messages you’ve both received.”

“Both?” Stiles asked. He hadn’t mentioned the messages he’d gotten. How had she guessed?

“Both,” Cora repeated. “Look, if this is Kate, she’s escalating and quickly. Stiles, you had those messages from before. I would be surprised if you hadn’t gotten more. Now, get in your car and start driving. We have no idea where Kate is, and for all we know, she found out where you are. Get in your car, lock your doors, and start driving. Don’t stop until you’re at the Sheriff’s Station and a deputy can escort you in.”

“And I guess you want us to stay on the line?” Stiles took Derek’s hand, leading him to his Jeep.

“Preferably, yes,” Cora answered. “Are you in your vehicle yet?”

“Yep.” Doors were locked too. Derek buckled his seat belt, setting the basket down by his feet. Stiles buckled his own belt and turned the key in the ignition.

The headlights came on and Stiles swallowed back a yelp. Derek next to him wasn’t as lucky.

“What?!” Cora cried. “What’s going on?”

Kate Argent was standing in the headlights. How they hadn’t seen her, Stiles didn’t know. He threw the Jeep in reverse and punched the accelerator.

Kate lumbered after them, raising her hand to throw something after them.

Derek yelled again when glass shattered over the hood of the Jeep, fire spreading with it.

“We’re on fire!” Stiles yelled into his phone.

“What?!”

“She threw a fucking Molotov cocktail or some shit at us.”

“And now you’re on fire?!”

“Yes!” Stiles shifted to drive and stood on the accelerator. “Where is she?” he asked Derek.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see. I think she pulled off after she threw that thing. Are we okay to keep driving even though we’re on fire?”

“No!” Cora answered. Stiles ignored her, pressing the gas a little harder. “Stop driving! Get out and hide! We’re all coming to get you!”

“I’m not letting that bitch get her hands on us or my Jeep.”

Quietly, Cora asked, “Even if it ends up costing you both your lives?”

“Here she comes!” Derek shouted.

Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles saw headlights aiming right for them. He jerked the wheel, switching to the brake. The whole Jeep shuddered and the brakes squealed as he executed a sharp turn. The vehicle, looked like a two door car of some kind, missed them by inches.

“We’re heading west from the preserve, back to town. Kate’s still chasing us.”

“And are you still on fire?”

Derek unbuckled his seat belt and shrugged out of his jacket. Stiles bumped the Jeep up onto the pavement and slowed. Derek leaned out of his rolled-down window and beat at the flames with his jacket.

After a few tense moments where Kate came barreling out of the preserve and turned on to the road, tires screeching, the flames were out, and Derek was back inside, buckled up again.

“No,” Stiles said. “Not on fire anymore. But Kate’s chasing us, and I hate to say it, she’ll probably catch us. My Jeep is not the fastest thing on the road.”

“We’re coming to you. Do not deviate.”

Already, Stiles could see flashing lights up ahead. Behind them, Kate slowed and then turned off.

“She’s not with us anymore,” he announced.

“Good,” Cora said. “Keep driving. You’ll have a police escort to the Station. We’ll put your car in the evidence garage so it won’t be left unattended. Are you both okay?”

Stiles nodded, mentally checking himself over. Yeah. He was fine. He turned to ask Derek the same question and realized that Derek was not okay. He was hyperventilating, shaky and pale, soot smudged over his face, his jacket forgotten over his lap.

“Uh, negative. Think we’ve got a panic attack going on. Will need assistance ASAP.”

“You or Derek?”

“Derek.”

“Roger that. Just keep driving. Help is just a little farther.”

Stiles put the worry about what Kate was doing right now in the back of his mind and focused on reaching the deputies, parking and unbuckling Derek’s seatbelt so that the first deputy to reach them could just open the door and pull Derek out onto the pavement.

Stiles climbed out, grabbing onto another deputy, who was really the Sheriff.

“You’re okay,” Stiles’ dad said, leading him to a cruiser. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Stiles gestured at Derek, still surrounded by deputies. “We saw Kate. She found us when we got back to the Jeep. We were on the phone with Cora ‘cause my apartment got burned down?”

“Not fully down,” his dad said. “The fire department responded quickly enough that they were able to save the building, but your stuff is probably another matter.”

“Well, fire must be Kate’s choice of weapon for the night because she threw something at my Jeep and suddenly, we were on fire.” Stiles’ phone trilled sharply and he pulled it up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Did you reach the deputies?” Cora asked. “We got disconnected.”

“Yeah, my dad found us.” Stiles craned his neck, trying to see how Derek was doing. His view was blocked by at least three deputies. Another two were inspecting Stiles’ Jeep. “I don’t know how Derek’s doing. He was having a panic attack last I knew.”

“Was it Kate Argent?”

“Yes. She pulled off when she saw the lights. I don’t know if she’ll go home or if she’s lying in wait somewhere.”

“Well, for safety reasons, the Sheriff will probably have you stay somewhere with a guard.”

“Great. Well. Thanks for everything. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Cora drew in a breath like she was going to say something else but then all she said was, “Bye.”

“We’ve got a hotel room for you,” Dad said, taking Stiles’ shoulder and leading him to where one of the deputies was sitting with his arm around Derek. “Isaac is going to stay with you to make sure that Kate Argent doesn’t attack you.” The deputy with his arm around Derek half-waved at Stiles.

“And how are we getting there?”

“I’m driving,” Isaac said. “We can’t risk Argent seeing either of your vehicles and attacking you again.”

“And what about my Jeep? Cora mentioned putting it in the evidence garage?”

“Absolutely. We have a few deputies going to retrieve Derek’s Camaro just in case Kate Argent attacked his things like she did yours.” Dad takes Stiles’ keys

Stiles and Derek were stashed in the back of a cruiser and whisked to the station.

A few hours later after their statements and a preliminary search for Kate, Isaac the deputy and Isaac’s partner, Boyd, drove Stiles and Derek to a motel in Hill Valley.

Before he left to patrol the area, Boyd handed Stiles a lump of something. “We think this may have been the trigger for Kate’s aggression tonight,” he said, cutting a quick glance to where Derek was huddled on one of the beds. “I’m so sorry for what she’s putting you through.”

Stiles just nodded and then threw the deadbolt as soon as the door shut.

He checked his phone and noticed that Kate hadn’t sent any more messages to him. Good.

The lump Boyd had handed him weighed heavier on his soul than his palm and he squeezed it tightly. It was Cora’s ring. Kate had attacked them because she thought Stiles was going to propose to Derek. Which he had been. That had been the plan.

He sighed and stuck it in his pocket. Derek’s phone buzzed, and Derek flinched but didn’t otherwise move to answer it.

“May I?” Stiles asked when it buzzed again. Derek shrugged, handing him it, swiping his thumb over the back to unlock it.

Stiles opened the messaging app. Eighty-five texts. Eighty of them from Kate. The phone buzzed again, three times in quick succession. Make that eighty-three texts from Kate. Stiles jumped to the texts from Cora.

Don’t come home

Got camaro to garage leaving keys with sheriff

Plz call asap

Tell me ur both okay

Derek?

The time stamp on Cora’s texts meant that they’d already touched base with her after she sent the texts, so Stiles moved on to Kate’s messages.

All of them threatening and graphic.

Apparently Kate really wanted to eviscerate Stiles, pull all his bowels out, and while he was suffering, she wanted to rape Derek next to his dying corpse. She even had attached a picture of herself fucking the bottle she’d thrown at his Jeep.

Stiles promptly called his father, asked for someone to collect Derek’s phone, and then spent the next fifteen minutes trying to offer what little comfort he could to Derek.

“She isn’t going to stop, is she?” Derek asked. He was ashen, still shaken from his panic attack.

There were no words to say that would assuage him. And after a deputy had taken Derek’s phone, which had received several more graphic and certainly disturbing texts from Kate, Stiles handed Derek one of the toothbrushes Deputy Isaac had left for them, and then lied on his bed and didn’t sleep.

~ * ~

Dad called bright and early, and Derek’s phone was returned shortly after. Bad news all around: Kate hadn’t been found and had been using a now-disconnected burner phone, so all they had were her texts to Derek, and that one graphic picture. Nothing else to go by.

Derek was shaking too hard after that call that Stiles had gone down to the corner store, using techniques his dad had taught him to slip a tail, used the ancient and only payphone in all of Beacon County to anonymously dial Derek’s workplace and let them know he had taken ill. He also took the opportunity to call his professors and ask for a week off to deal with the fact that his apartment had burned. He was trying not to think about all the things he’d lost, like his physical copies of his webcomic or the quilt his great-grandmother had made for his mother when she was a baby.

Then, Stiles went back to the motel, taking a long and meandering way again, and prayed that Kate hadn’t seen him.

Derek wasn’t any better after lunch, even though it was Cora’s shift with them, and she spent all of it huddled on the bed with him.

“Before we met,” Cora said suddenly, “Derek had a stalker. He was a friend of our sister Laura. About a year after they met, he took Derek. There’s this old root cellar in the preserve. Laura had shown him it so that they could have peace and quiet away from the brats, as she called us then. He took Derek out there.”

Derek shuddered, pressing against Cora’s side.

“We had therapy for years and years. In fact, I think Derek still goes.” He nodded when she patted his arm. “The cops never caught him.” A hard glint came to her eye. “He’s buried out there in the root cellar. Or he was. It’s blocked off now anyway. Our uncle Peter still has five years before he can seek parole.”

That explained why Derek was so shaken. Stiles would be too if an event like what had happened during his childhood had repeated itself.

It also explained his urgency in picking out Stiles and calling attention to the fact that he was with someone. It hadn’t worked to dissuade Kate, but Stiles would make damn sure that it would be her downfall.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing the ring off the night stand next to his bed, “what if we lay a trap for Kate? Make sure the deputies can find her?”

He opened the box. The ring was still intact even if Kate had burned the box itself. Derek looked at the ring. “A proposal?” he asked, weakly.

Stiles nodded. “It’s why she snapped.” Guiltily, he explained about their previous idea of catching Kate when Stiles would propose. Now, things had changed. Kate had escalated far faster than any of them could have predicted. “If we go somewhere public where we can hide a bunch of deputies in the crowd, then we can lure her out and she can be arrested,” Stiles said.

“That could work,” Cora agreed. “We already know that she’s got a bunch of burner phones because she keeps contacting Derek’s phone. We’re trying to run traces on them, but it’s not really working.”

“How would you lure her?” Derek asked. When neither Cora nor Stiles said anything, he huffed. “Is she still contacting Stiles too?”

Stiles checked his phone. He’s gotten a text from each of the burner phones, but he wasn’t paying attention to it, too worried about Derek to worry about himself. Or too arrogant. Trying to keep his mind off what’s already been done to him. “Yeah. I have texts from unknown numbers.”

Cora read a few of them. “She’s definitely threatening to kill you.”

“So, here’s how you lure her: you send a mass text to everyone in your contacts except me or me too, doesn’t matter. It’s not like she knows it. And you say that you’re planning on proposing but you want a flash mob of familiar faces for support.”

Stiles stared at Derek. “That’s brilliant. It just might work.”

“Kate will know that there will be other people there,” Cora butted in. “She might not fall for it.”

Stiles picked out a text and showed it to her. In the text, Kate had described how she was going to flay him open and set his insides on fire. “I don’t think she cares about a crowd. She’ll probably show up with a gun and try shooting.”

“Let me run this plan by the Sheriff. He’ll probably want to get state police involved.”

“Tell them to wear sneakers and no watches. No visible ear pieces,” Stiles said. “I’ve seen enough pictures of undercover cops to know that they’re easily spotted a mile away. They need to blend in. Lives, more than just ours, are at stake if Kate has a weapon.”

“Just hang tight,” Cora said, phone already up to her ear. Someone rapped at the door. “That’ll be Boyd. We’ll call you with details, but just hang tight. Love you, Derek. Like you, Stiles. Don’t worry about anything, and don’t do anything without backup.”

She let Boyd in and hurried away, barking at the Sheriff. Stiles knew his dad would appreciate the information, but probably not the plan. He hoped Cora told him it was Derek’s idea.

Boyd held out his hand, and Stiles surrendered his phone.

Then, because there was nothing else to do, he pushed Derek aside and lied next to him on the bed. Eventually, he managed to drop off to sleep, mostly because Derek turned on his side, put his head on his shoulder, and weighed him down.

It was dark when Stiles woke up, and Isaac was the deputy watching them.

“The Sheriff wanted you to know that the operation has been planned for tomorrow at 1300 hours. He also wants you to know that he loves you and that he and Deputy Hale will be your escorts during the operation.”

Next to Stiles, Derek yawned widely before snuggling back down.

“Can I send the text now?” Stiles asked.

Isaac shook his head. “A text has been sent for you.”

Great, more waiting. And Stiles didn’t even have his sketchpad so he couldn’t exactly distract himself. Something else lost in the fire.

“Thank you, Isaac,” Derek prompted.

Stiles rolled his eyes and dutifully repeated the words. Then, Isaac settled in the corner, staring at nothing in particular. Derek tugged at Stiles’ arm.

“Wanna try spooning,” was all he said when Stiles looked at him. Then, he flopped over, ass pressed against Stiles’ crotch, one of Stiles’ arms over his waist, curled right above his dick. It was surprisingly intimate, especially for someone who possibly was sex repulsed, like Derek, so Stiles worked at keeping his breathing even as he experimentally threw a leg over Derek.

He hummed a little, kicked it back over and then drew it between his own legs. “Better.”

Better for Derek maybe, better for an accidental boner for Stiles. Hopefully Derek wouldn’t mind the imminent erection.

Might as well enjoy the whole experience, Stiles thought a little desperately, dropping his head to nose at the back of Derek’s neck. Derek shivered from the contact but didn’t voice any complaints, so Stiles kept his face there.

He wished it were real, and maybe that was why he didn’t fall asleep again until Derek accidentally rolled out of his arms during the wee morning hours.

~ * ~

Stiles climbed out of his Jeep, his dad hopping out of the passenger seat. Cora was driving Derek’s Camaro with Derek riding shotgun.

Derek looked pale again, nervous. He’d woken up and refused any and all touches. He’d only waved a little when Cora collected him about thirty minutes before Stiles’ dad had shown up with the Jeep.

They’re at the mall, and while a lot of Stiles’ actual contacts had regretfully informed him that they had work or school and couldn’t attend, they wished him the best. The deputies and state police officers had taken Stiles’ advice and were near indistinguishable from the regular shoppers.

“What’s the timeframe again?” Stiles asked his dad, just for something to do.

“You go in, walk around for about ten minutes, and then get to the food court—it’s been shut down for ‘repairs.’ Get on one knee, say something pretty to Derek, and we’ll grab Kate if she’s around. We might get her before then too.”

Stiles had checked his phone in the morning and had a text from one of Kate’s burners: see u there :) so she was definitely aware and at least planning something.

Derek joined them at the entrance where Dad loudly announced his plans to visit that one store that looked like a hunter’s wet dream.

“Turner’s Outdoorsman,” Stiles muttered when he marched off. “It’s called Turner’s Outdoorsman.”

“Might as well be a hunter’s wet dream,” Cora remarked. She glanced around, a casual casing to see if they’d been spotted yet. “I have to get a present for Mom. See you at the meeting place.”

Derek grabbed onto Stiles’ hand as soon as she vanished into the crowd.

“I don’t like this,” he said under his breath.

“Neither do I, but I don’t see another option to getting Kate to stop unless you want to break out your uncle and let him do what he does.”

“There’s an idea.”

“I’m not serious.”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

They walked slowly, window shopping. Derek pointed out a few things that his sisters liked, and a telescope that he wanted. He was saving up for it, and though his job paid well, it sucked so much joy out of his life. “I don’t know that it’s even just Kate,” he told Stiles as they walked past a cluster of deputies, Boyd and Isaac the only ones Stiles can identify, enjoying hot pretzels.

“Those look good,” Stiles said. The deputies had been good about bringing them food, but at the motel, Stiles had been a little too nervous to eat much. Now he’s starving.

Derek wrinkled his nose at the cheese sauce, but he bought a pretzel for Stiles.

“It’s true love,” Stiles declared, dunking his pretzel and stuffing a third of it in his mouth at once.

“Twoo wuv,” Derek began quoting, and Stiles choked on his pretzel. And then, their ten minutes was up.

“Wanna check out the food court?” Stiles asked, false casualness.

Derek shrugged. “Sure, why not? Seeing you scarf that monstrosity actually made me a little peckish.”

They arrived at the food court, and Stiles pretended to be disappointed that it was closed. They could still walk through and sit at the tables, but there was caution tape littered everywhere.

It wasn’t a very romantic spot for proposals, but it was the most open and empty place in the mall right now, plus there were a few pillars that could provide emergency cover if they needed it.

Could also hide Kate, but the undercover officers swarmed the court from all angles. There was nowhere for Kate to hide now.

Derek pretended to be interested in picking up the tape while Stiles pulled out the ring, in a new box, and dropped to one knee. He waited for Derek to notice him, and when he didn’t, he cleared his throat.

Derek turned, and then, suddenly he didn’t seem to be acting anymore. His eyes filled with tears as he stared at Stiles, knelt down in the middle of an empty food court.

“Derek Hale, we’ve been dating for long enough. I know you, and I know you make me happy. I know I never want to see another day without your bright smile and charming wit in it.”

Stiles almost broke down there because he realized that he wasn’t pretending either. If he was really proposing to Derek, these were the words he’d use.

He rambled on a little bit about love and what Derek meant to him, and then he asked, “Will you marry me?”

Derek nodded, almost frantically, all but running to lift Stiles off the ground in a hug. Stiles barely noticed the commotion in the background because he and Derek were kissing. Derek’s wet face was pressed to his, their hands tangled together.

When they finally pulled apart, several of the deputies were hauling away a fighting and snarling Kate Argent. She’d dyed her honey-blonde hair dark brown and a pair of glasses were askew across her face, but it was definitely her.

“We’ll make sure her bail is too high to get out,” Dad promised them. He nodded to the ring. “Congratulations. You’re good for each other. Hope to have you over for dinner soon.”

Cora waved at them too. “I’ll text you later. Give me details, but not too many. I want to be your best man, Stiles.”

Stiles stared after them, a little shocked. “They do know that that was part of the plan, right?” he asked Derek.

Derek plucked out the ring. “Doesn’t matter if it was. It’s real now.” He slid the ring on his finger, admiring it. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Stiles barked out a startled laugh. “I think you’ll find that it is you who is stuck with me,” he countered. Soberly, he asked, “Do you want it to be real? Because Derek, I really do love you. I really would like to marry you. I’ve had too many tastes to say I can give you up. Besides, the agreement was only for a public dumping to get Kate away from you.” He pointed at the retreating group of deputies, Kate Argent in their midst, still fighting. “She’s going to be very far away from you now.”

“How about this answer?”

Stiles turned to Derek because that wasn’t an answer at all, and gets another kiss. A little drier this time until Derek pokes him with his tongue.

“Thought you didn’t kiss people you don’t know well,” Stiles joked.

Derek just grinned at him. “I spooned with you. I took you to my spot to star gaze,” he protested. “If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.”

Stiles took Derek’s hand and led him out to the parking lot. And that ring looked damn fine sitting on Derek’s finger.

 ~ Three Months Later ~

They kept the engagement, did the rounds with the parents and celebrations. They even had a registry for their wedding. Just a few bottles of champagne to toast with. They were also moving in together at the end of the month.

And they had gone on several dates. Derek had even written a full length novel based on Stiles’ webcomic.

Currently, they were out in the preserve, lying on a blanket, Derek’s brand new telescope set up behind them while Derek pointed up at the stars, explaining the constellations again. To Stiles, they still looked like dots, pinpricks in the dark velvet of the night.

He raised himself up on one elbow. “Hey, so what happens when the stars do align? Is there some kind of cosmic energy?”

Derek shook his head. “They’re all dead or dying. They’re so far away, and we won’t know if maybe when they align, it’s because one is killing another, or they’re merging or something. Not for billions of years, anyway.”

“Well, I know what happens on Earth when the stars align.”

Derek glanced at him, raised an eyebrow. “What?” he asked. The little furrow of consternation was beautiful. Derek was beautiful.

Stiles leaned over him and slotted their mouths together. “This,” he whispered into the warmth of Derek’s lips.

For a long moment Derek didn’t move or respond. And then, just as Stiles went to pull away, he dragged him down so that now their legs were tangled. He’d become a lot more bold, more willing to test the waters, as it were.

“You asshole,” he said, smiling. “The stars didn’t align for that.”

“They could have,” Stiles retorted. He could argue his point all night, but he’d rather kiss Derek. And it seemed like Derek agreed with that plan.

On Derek’s finger, the ring glinted as brilliantly as the brightest star. Maybe the stars hadn’t aligned for this, but Stiles thanked them all the same as he managed to make Derek gasp his name to them.

~ End ~

[parson-kent]

you should die with me

""Nurse," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, "why do you always gotta make things so sexual? Can't you just enjoy things, for like one fucking time, without turning it weird?"

"Well, why are you such a fucking prude, Dex? How about letting me eat this goddamn cookie without judgement? 'Why do you make things so sexual, Nurse, blah blah blah?' It's because we're so rooted in early Protestant ideals that you're like this-"

And, yeah, it kinda devolved from there."

or Nursey and Dex get on each other's nerves and also get off on each other's nerves.

My first nurseydex fix!! Also posted on ao3. Trigger warnings for language, ignorance. Check below the cut for the fic :)))

and every word that you mock sounds so pretty to me, you should die with me - Saturday Night, HUNNY

-

Dex was working on the boiler in the basement of the Haus when he heard Nursey come in through the front door. He recognized the stomp of his hipster-thrifted boots across the living room floor and his laugh as he talked to Bitty in the kitchen. He recognized the way he could almost make out their conversation. He also recognized the way he said goodbye and turned to head down the basement stairs.

Nursey came clambering down the stairs with two big cookies, one in each hand.

"Dude, look what Bitty made!! It's his MooMaw's chocolate chip recipe, apparently she has like tasks he has to complete before she rewards him with the best recipe? Anyway, he just got this one. They smell so good, dude! I brought you one."

Dex smiled, face hidden behind the broiler. "Let me just deal with this last screw and I'll grab one."

Nursey apparently seemed content to stand there and ramble as Dex finished up. He was talking about his Mexican poetry class or something, but Dex wasn't really paying attention. He just let Nursey's words wash over him.

Finally, he gave the screw one final twist before standing up and grabbing a towel off the floor to wipe his hands. He brushed off any oil or grease that would be on them before grabbing a cookie out of Nursey's hand. They both took their first bite at the same time, and Nursey let out a small moan. Dex blushed and tried to focus on enjoying Bitty's delicious baking skills. And you know what? Dex could also attest to the sinful delightful-ness of this certain cookie, but did you see him moaning over it? No.

"Nurse," he mumbled through a mouthful of cookie, "why do you always gotta make things so sexual? Can't you just enjoy things, for like one fucking time, without turning it weird?"

"Well, why are you such a fucking prude, Dex? How about letting me eat this goddamn cookie without judgement? 'Why do you make things so sexual, Nurse, blah blah blah?' It's because we're so rooted in early Protestant ideals that you're like this-"

And, yeah, it kinda devolved from there.

-

Shitty stomped down the steps about 15 minutes later to break up their fighting. By then it had gotten so loud that Dex was pretty sure the Lax bros could hear it from their house. He was pretty sure he had been going on about respecting people's boundaries, while Nurse had been off on some rant about Protestant ideals and how they had cursed America. Whatever it was, it had been pretty bad.

But then, Shitty arrived and taken them into the reading room.

"Bros, I want you to reflect on this moment. Do you feel in anyway better than the way you were feeling before? Do you feel accomplished or satisfied"

Dex shook his head, but resolutely refused to turn even the slightest inch to see what Nurse said.

Shitty just shook his head before he launched into some complicated lecture about emotional control and shared space. Dex listened with some level of interest before tuning it out.

Suddenly, Shitty snapped his fingers in front of his face. "Hey, both of you, pay attention. You'll be quizzed on this later."

-

Dex woke up the next morning to sunlight leaking in from the windows. He blinked at the sudden brightness then quickly squeezed his eyes shut. Apparently, his roommate had forgotten to shut their black out blinds properly.

"Are you fucking shitting me, Trevor? This type of shit happens every week, you've got to stop it."

No response. Dex leaned over the side of his bed and stared at the empty bed across from him.

"Oh- fuck, you've gotta be kidding me? He's gone, that's just great, he already left," Dex mumbled to himself as he stood up, back cracking.

He stretched his arms up to the ceiling, twisting and yawning. Then, he stomped over and yanked their blackout blinds shut. Dex turned and grabbed his phone and then laid back down in bed in the blissful darkness. His first class wasn't until 1:00, so he had a nice day ahead of him, seeing as it was only 8:30. He checked Twitter first, liking some of Bitty's tweets and laughing at some new memes. Then, he stumbled across a tweet from one Derek M. Nurse posted only a couple minutes after Shitty's lecture.

derek loves smh @dnursey   when ur much better at shitty's end-of-lecture quizzes than that other guy #nailedit #educateyoself   [ Picture of a slightly crumbled piece of paper with what seems to be a quiz on it. Each answer is hastily bubbled in, and at the top is sloppy handwriting that reads "11/12 Excellent job, Nurse. Lots of improvement since last time." ]

Dex felt anger rising in the pit of his stomach. He snorted with intense derision as he finished reading Nurse's stupid post. He threw his phone to the foot of his bed. Dex laid there, just looking at the ceiling for a few minutes. Why the fuck was Nurse so annoying? Sure, his own quiz was lying next to his bed with a "7/12 Dex, I know you can do better. Don't let your anger get to you." written on it, but seriously, who the fuck even actually gives quizzes after lectures anyway. It was all too much for Dex sometimes. He had ideals and ideas and values and morals and a ton of other bullshit engrained in him from years of living in his small town in Maine. That type of stuff doesn't just fade away from 8 months at a private liberal arts college.

Sure, maybe he came to Samwell to discover more things and explore, but he was afraid sometimes. Afraid of rejection, of failure, of judgement. So many times he wanted to do something, but then worried about it getting out or being made fun of... or even of being supported. Knowing he now had people who would love and support him through whatever? That shit was scary. Dex didn't have any more excuses to push himself down because now he had people who wanted to build him up.

He leaned down and picked up the crumpled quiz off the floor. He smoothed it out before grabbing his computer. Maybe if they were so intent on building him up, he could help a little bit too.

-

A month later, Dex and Nursey were hanging out together in the Haus living room. Well, "hanging out" might be stretching it. They were in the same room, working on schoolwork separately. And not fighting. It was pretty much a miracle. However, getting to this point had required some hard work on their part. Something had flipped in Dex after Shitty's lecture. He realized the reason why he had picked Samwell. The slogan "1 in 4, maybe more" was burnt into the deepest recesses of his mind. Samwell represented everything Dex wanted to be - everything he couldn't be back in Maine. So, he had sat down with his computer that afternoon and searched everything he could on Protestant culture and its effect on modern America. Then, through gritted teeth with genuine emotion in his eyes, he apologized to Nurse the next day. Nursey accepted it with little chirping, apparently seeing something in Dex that was different from all the other apologies.

Dex continued to work on his behavior. He would borrow books on social justice and unbiased history from the Samwell library and engage respectfully in debates in his classes and even just out on the quad. He noticed that the team was being more open with him too. Before, they would hide the hard conversations and reprimands from him. But now, they had been including him, asking him for his opinions and educating him on important topics. Still, he and Nurse got into it sometimes, but now it was mostly just playful. Dex had come to love their arguments - it was amazing getting to be so intense and passionate with another person.

It felt... intimate, really. It was almost like, despite their two very different backgrounds, Nursey was the only person who really understood him. He knew the ins and outs of Dex's personality better than anybody, even Dex himself. He knew how to push his buttons, but he also knew to look out for Dex's shaking hands when he codes for too long and then get him a water or gatorade. Nursey knew Dex. And it felt good to be known.

Dex was deep in these thoughts as they laid together in the living room. Suddenly, a resounding BANG from the kitchen echoed throughout the Haus. The two of them scrambled to get up, Dex knocking over his computer and Nursey creating a shower of paper in the middle of the Haus. They rushed into the kitchen to find Bitty, covered in flour, the lid to the food processor missing.

"Oh y'all, I'm such a mess," he said, close to tears. "Finals are just stressing me out, no big deal."  

Dex ran to him, wrapping him in one of his signature bear hugs reserved for close friends. He locked eyes with Nurse over Bitty's head and they exchanged a curt nod. Nursey immediately began to clean up the mess in the kitchen while Dex led Bitty upstairs to the bathroom. He made sure Bitty was situated and ready to take a shower before heading back downstairs with a load of flour-covered clothes for the laundry.

"I'm going downstairs to do the wash," he called into the kitchen as he passed by the door.

Nursey just threw him a small wave before he turned back to scrub the tile. Dex smiled to himself the whole way down the stairs to the basement. Nursey and him were both learning; growing together.

Dex reached the bottom of the stairs still wrapped up in his thoughts. He really did love the way he and Nurse were getting along now - it caused something to stir inside him. He felt it deep in his stomach, something fiery and passionate just like Nursey coiling there every time they were together. Dex dumped the load into the washer. He just wished it had happened sooner. Nursey was one of his best friends now, along with Chowder. They were both such amazing people. Samwell had changed Dex - he was a better person now, with friends who loved him and helped him become the best version of himself that he could be. He set the dial to normal load and finished with pouring the detergent in. Then, he leaned against the washer and sunk deeper into his thoughts.

-

Nursey found him ten minutes later. He had flour in his hair and some in his stubble. His stupid hipster shirt was also covered in flour and he looked pretty angry. Dex had to laugh.

"God, Nurse, what was Bitty cooking in there?"

Nursey just groaned and glared at Dex. "Dude, get your ass up there! I need help cleaning up this mess."

Dex smirked, a glint of amusement in his eyes. ""Help'. 'Cleaning'. Two words I never expected Derek Malik Nurse to say at all, let alone in the same sentence. Didn't you have maids for that in your brownstone?"

Nursey stomped closer to him. "Well, you're the master of cleaning, huh? All those years in bumpkin Maine, on that lobster boat."

Let it never be said that William J. Poindexter was one to back down from a challenge. He stepped closer, laundry and flour both far from his mind. "Like you would know a thing about responsibility. It was all just prep school and expensive field trips and Broadway and hundred dollar dinners with you, huh? Never learned the value of hard work."

"Of course I know hard work, try writing a 20 page essay in a week. With a 15 page-"

Dex cut him off. "Try coding an entire plug-in in the 30 minutes so I have 30 minutes to troubleshoot in my hour long lab! English is just some words-"

"Oh, I've heard this one before! 'My name's Dex and I just think English is just some words on paper!'"

They were both yelling at this point, trying to outdo each other in the loudness factor. Their fights always ended like this. However, Dex was just realizing how close they were. In their fury, they had gotten almost uncomfortably close.

Intimate, Dex's mind whispered.

Dex tried to shove that thought from his mind and focus on Nursey's rant, but it lingered. Suddenly, almost as if he couldn't control his own limbs, he pushed Nurse against the washing machine. He held him there, wrists trapped against the cool metal.

Nursey became very quiet and swallowed.

Dex looked at him, with flour everywhere and a righteous passion still contained in his warm brown eyes. He leaned in close and released one of Nursey's wrists so he could cup his cheek.

"Is this okay?" He asked, head bent in close enough that his warm breath washed over Nursey's face.

Nursey nodded and whispered, "Just fucking kiss me, Poindexter."

Dex leaned in with just a faint brush of the lips. Then, Nursey pulled his other hand from Dex's grasp and pulled him in close, trapping him in an almost brusing kiss. They fought with each other just like in real life. Nursey moaned just a bit when Dex moved his body so he and Nursey were flush against each other. Dex took that as a sign, pushing his tongue into Nursey's mouth.

They pulled apart slowly, each breathing heavily. Nursey looked up at Dex from lidded eyes. Dex smiled in his head.

Finally, Nursey's passion was directed at him. And only him.

[mistymark]

the one with the washing machine [part 1] // n.j.m

neighbour!au // na jaemin x reader // 3.8k words

in which y/n lives in the same building as jaemin and the common laundry is a very messy place // masterlist // warning: some swearing // part 1/2

You groaned as you rolled over in bed, regretting the amount of time you had spent talking and giggling with your best friend the night before. Glancing at the clock, you realised it was 9:48am and instantly shifted your position to wake her up for her 10am lecture. You began to panic, knowing that she really didn’t want to miss this class, but your heart rate returned to normal upon realising that she wasn’t in her bed.

 At that precise moment, your phone buzzed on the bedside table beside you, and her name flashed across the screen, “hey bby just wanted to let you know im not dead I just left your house to get to my lecture ahaha sorry if I woke u xxx”. You smiled at her cute message and promised to buy her a coffee later as a thank you and got started on some studying before your afternoon class.

When lunchtime rolled around, you decided to get some washing done before making your lunch (so you didn’t get distracted by the TV and put off your washing for another day. You absentmindedly picked up all the clothes on the floor of your bedroom and shoved them in a basket, grabbing your detergent and heading down to the common laundry. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket and you stopped briefly to dig the device out of your jeans, “hey real quick did I leave some clothes at ur place? Can I pick them up tomorrow?”

“Yeah of course im doing washing now so theyre probably in there somewhere,” you typed back, trying to balance the laundry basket on your hip.

Her response was almost instantaneous, “omg ur a gem.”

You greeted Mrs. Palinski as you walked passed her and continued down to the laundry. You always preferred to do your washing during the day because less people were down there and there was a smaller chance of someone touching your clothes – a fact that creeped you out immensely when living alone.

Shoving your washing in the machine and turning it on, you rolled your eyes at the basket of clean clothes left on the bench; someone had obviously forgotten to take their clothes out and someone else had done it for them.

You returned to your apartment to finish making your lunch and watched one two three four episodes of your favourite show before remembering to go get your washing. Stomping back down the stairs, you regretting buying an apartment on the top floor, hating the climb up and down the stairs to get to the laundry. There was an elevator, but your landlord hated having to pay the bills and repair fees for it and stressed that it was only to be used in emergencies or for those who weren’t physically capable of walking the stairs.

Your basket was sitting on the bench in place of the other one, clean and waiting for you. The machine was still rumbling behind you and an empty basket sat atop it, indicating that someone had removed your washing to clean their own. The second machine sat unused, its broken screen and leaky pipes uninviting to everyone.

At the time, you took no notice of the white hoodie that sat on top of your pile of clean clothes, assuming it was your best friend’s.

 Sighing as you opened the door to your apartment, you pulled off your jacket and scarf and hung it on the coat rack. Your afternoon class had run 15 minutes later than usual and for some reason that had just exhausted you. Your friend Lucas had texted you about going out for drinks with a few of his mates but you kindly refused due to the fact that you had an early morning class the next day.

Walking into your bedroom, you began to remove your clothes to change into pyjamas for a cozy and studious night in. Urgent knocking sounded from your front door and you looked up in alarm, knowing full well that you were nowhere near being dressed enough to answer the door.

Quickly, you grabbed the first thing you could see - your best friend’s large hoodie, that was conveniently placed on the top of your washing pile - and pushed it on over your head, and, making sure it covered enough of your legs to make it look as if you may be wearing pants, opened the door.

A boy about your age glanced at you in surprise as the door creaked open, his mouth forming an ‘o’ as he took in your appearance. He blinked and immediately smiled. He had one of those wide smiles that made you feel as though you had done something to achieve it, and you instantly smiled back shyly, “Um, hey.”

You made a tiny wave gesture and his eyebrows raised as he realised he hadn’t said anything yet, “Hi, I’m Jaemin, I live next door and I think I’ve lost my– “

He cut himself off as he stared at you, taking in the oversized hoodie that you were wearing and immediately flushing a light pink. He cleared his throat and quickly glanced down the hallway, before lifting one of his fingers to subtly point at your outfit, “- my hoodie.”

You, being oblivious, and at this point still thinking that the hoodie you were wearing belonged to your friend, smiled pitifully at him, “Oh, well, I’m Y/N. And that’s such a shame. Where do you think you lost it?”

Jaemin laughed and looked at his feet. Looking up, he said, “Um, actually, I just found it. I think the hoodie you’re wearing is mine.”

You felt yourself step back in surprise as you looked down at the hoodie. It was certainly too big for your best friend to wear, wasn’t it? Your head shot up as realisation struck, “You weren’t by any chance doing laundry earlier this morning, were you?”

His lips quirked up in a small smile, “Yeah, I think my hoodie accidentally got placed in your basket, and Mrs. Palinski said you had done washing earlier so I was hoping you might’ve seen it.”

Now it was your time to blush as you hid yourself behind the door, suddenly feeling like you’d overstepped the boundaries of this stranger. You couldn’t meet his eyes, “Oh, right. My friend left a bunch of clothes here so I just assumed that it belonged to her… and when you knocked on my door, I just grabbed the thing on the top of the basket. I’m so sorry.”

He nodded, clasping his hands in front of his hips. “Do you want to come in? I’ll go get changed and you can have your hoodie back,” you opened the door wider for him to enter, but before he could respond, you hurriedly said. “Or I can return it to you tomorrow if you want me to wash it again?”

He chuckled, “No, it’s fine, but thank you.” You nodded and made your way to the bedroom, and it was only now that Jaemin realised a) how attractive you were, and b) how it became increasingly obvious that you were not wearing anything underneath his hoodie. He forced himself to look away, the red of his cheeks deepening in colour. Feeling like a creep, he distracted himself by examining your apartment.

“It’s weird your apartment is exactly the same as mine,” he called from your living area.

“Yeah, it’s almost like we live in the same building or something,” you called back, and he smiled in amusement at your sarcasm.

Suddenly the door to your bedroom opened and he turned around to face you as you handed him his hoodie, “It’s a bummer, that was a really nice hoodie. I was going to commend my friend on her amazing hoodie-selecting skills.” You laughed in an attempt to lighten the situation, and he smiled back; whether it was because he genuinely liked you or because he didn’t want to make it awkward, you couldn’t tell.

“Well, to be fair, it is my favourite,” Jaemin began as you walked him to the door. “Thanks again, for…you know, the hoodie.”

You held the door in your hand, but you suddenly wished you didn’t have to close it, because despite your embarrassment and the means of which you two met, he was very attractive. “Yeah, um, no problem. And seriously, I’m really sorry about that.” He shook his head at your apology and waved as you closed the door, making his way to the room next to yours.

You’d never met your neighbour, and generally he was pretty good, but sometimes when his friends were over, which you learnt they were now, it got pretty damn loud. Immediately following Jaemin’s departure, you heard a voice yell, “YOU FOUND IT! WHERE WAS IT?” Most of the time it was difficult to hear them anyway, and you blocked out what little sound travelled through the walls, but it felt like you could hear their conversation much more clearly than before.

[hyungswons-blog]

demigod!shownu

percy jackson and the olympians au ft. monsta x

shownu, son of hephaestus

the first day in camp you stumble in all dishevelled

you probably just fought a colchis bull and you’re panting and your hair is burned on the tips and it’s just traumatic

so you’re like crying when a satyr finds you resting against the tree and he helps you towards the Big House

kihyun patches up your wounds and feeds you some ambrosia before showing you around the camp

but it doesn’t last long because some kid (read: changkyun) accidentally aimed at himself during archery practice and kihyun apologizes and rushes back to the Big House because apparently changkyun’s left butt cheek is… anyways

he leaves you at the edge of the forest

you decide to explore the woods a little bit because you still have to get everything sorted out and this all seems like a dream like what the hell

it’s getting kind of dark though and now you’re lost good fucking job

and just when you think it can’t get worse

IS THAT ANOTHER FUCKING COLCHIS BULL

you don’t know how you defeated one in the first place so there’s no way you can do it AGAIN plus didn’t kihyun say something about magical boundaries why do you have to suffer again do the gods hate u???

its eyes train on you and you freeze but instead of the glowing red eyes you saw earlier these are warm and the metal bull approaches you and nudges your hand because PET ME

??? wait it’s a robot…??? how does that work

it’s actually a kinda cute moment but then it’s interrupted by this big dude stomping towards you and you swear this is scarier than when the colchis bull was barrelling towards you

he kinda just stops in front of you and looks between you and the bull

and then

he’s like,,, tugging the bull away nervously

“sorry.”

he’s so curt and it’s kinda intimidating if you put it together with his physique

but you’re lost so you trail after him

“hey,,, um,,, im kinda lost,,,”

“hi lost” he says it so seriously like

anyways you wave off his lame dad joke and ask him to bring you back to the camp

he doesn’t talk at all while you two walk together and it’s really awkward

so he brings you to his little workshop in the woods to drop off the bull and it’s not actually little it’s huge and it has all these… creations

“wow this is so cool”

his smile is adorably shy because compliments are foreign these days since he never lets anyone near his workshop “really?”

“yeah did you make all of these?”

he nods and watches you as you explore the hideout and run your hands over his useless works and your fingers trace over something carved into a desk

“hw <3 yj”

“what’s this?”

he knows exactly what you’re talking about but he doesn’t say anything, just looks down with a sad smile and says

“we’re late for dinner”

you’re blubbering and finally you’re like “uhmdjcksjdhg ok,,,” so he walks you back and hands you awkwardly back over to kihyun

“sorry, that’s shownu, he’s really awkward anyways you can sit at the hermes table until you’re claimed”

but you keep looking over at the hephaestus table because shownu ,, still looks awkward,, even though he’s laughing and joking along with his siblings(??) but on second thought all of the hephaestus kids look awkward and out of place

anyways

for the next few days you really tend to notice shownu’s absence whenever he’s not around at the campfires and stuff

and you’re still really curious about that little carving because??? shownu is dating??? but you never see him do the fluffy fluff lovey love thing with ANYONE

so you do the natural thing and ask changkyun because he seems to know everything that happens in the camp (everyone says aphrodite kids are the biggest gossipers so ,, changkyun is really an enigma,,)

he tells you that a long time ago,,, and i mean a LONG time ago,, shownu was dating a fellow camper who was a child of demeter and they were this cute calm lowkey couple

and then one day he was testing out one of his machines he’d made for her valentines day gift

it was the cute metal bull because, if shownu were ever too busy to cuddle her, the bull would

it was stupid but he loved it and he was sure she would too

and then he fucked up

he mixed up the cute bull with a copy of a colchis bull he’d made to discover their weaknesses

long story short,,, when his girlfriend walked into the hephaestus cabin which shownu had cleared out for the day to work on the surprise,,

the colchis bull set her ablaze

shownu tried really hard to save her because as a special son of hephaestus, he’s immune to fire (kinda like the cyclops)

two things came out of that fire alive

but shownu’s girlfriend did not

and neither did the cabin

so shownu had to deal with the fact that he’d killed his lover and burnt down half of the cabins

that’s why he’d made his new workshop in the forest away from everyone and never liked people around his creations

he even stopped making dangerous things

are you crying or is that just rain,, on your face..

so one day you decide to search for him because why does he always isolate himself over a mistake,,

you,, kinda get lost again tbh

and it’s like deja vu when a very familiar nice metal bull comes bounding up to you so you gotta scratch him,, i mean,, his cute little tail is wagging happily

but he doesn’t stop for long and he’s trotting back the way he came from and you just gotta follow him

you’re not surprised when he leads you back to shownu’s workshop

cautiously, you enter it and you’re met with the sound of whirring and clanking and you peek behind a pillar

WOW,,, shownu is HOT when he works,,

like there’s soot all over him and his muscles are bulging and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration,,, what the hELL HE WASN'T THIS HOT BEFORE

he catches you staring and he’s like “oh,, did you get lost again?”

you shake your head and slowly approach him

“changkyun,, told me,, about yeojoo,,”

his eyes widen and he kinda just goes back to making a protective helmet because jooheon broke his last one and capture the flag is this friday

“shownu,, you don’t have to blame yourself,,”

shownu: “,,,”

“it was just a mistake. you gotta forgive yourself. yeojoo would want you to.”

“but yeojoo’s not here.”

“,,, she’s always with you, shownu. in ur heart,,”

sniffle sniffle

that’s all you came to tell him so you leave him to dwell on your words (but you return many times throughout the next few weeks just to watch him work)(and he likes showing off his creations and the way your eyes light up)

then one night you get claimed

you scrape half your dinner plate into the fire and pray for your mother to just claim you already gdi

lo and behold,, the world hates you

welcome the new child of demeter

THIS IS UNBELIEVABLE YOUR DECEASED SIBLING WAS THE GIRLFRIEND OF THE GUY YOU MAY,, HAVE A SLIGHT,, CRUSH ON,,, WHY?!!???

when shownu finds out he feels SO FUCKING GUILTY

he KILLED YOUR SISTER

AND HE THINKS YOU'RE CUTE

THAT'S LIKE ,, DOUBLE BETRAYAL

so he does his best to avoid you but by now you know how to get to his little workshop in the woods and you KNOW he’s been avoiding you because when you wave at him he immediately looks away

time to confront him

so you stomp in and he’s disassembling that cute metal bull and you yell at him to stop: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!!!”

he drops the head on the floor in surprise and he’s like “,, y/n,,,”

“what are you doing” you repeat calmer this time. like what is he doing to the cute bull and what is he doing thinking he can just pretend you don’t exist??????

“you shouldn’t be here,,,”

“but i am”

“y/n,, please,,leave”

“why? you think you’re betraying yeojoo by getting closer to me?”

the thought of him still being hung up on his ex,, hurts a lot tbh

shownu doesn’t say anything even though your assumption is wrong

“shownu,,” you beg “please,, tell me what you’re thinking,, that it’s not because you still love yeojoo,, tell me you feel what i feel too,,”

he nods slowly, avoiding your gaze “i,, i do,,”

your heart: AHJSKASLSJSHDKFKH

your face: “...but…?”

for the first time you see shownu vulnerable (he’s crying)

“i don’t want to hurt anyone again”

you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair “you’re not going to”

“i’m a son of hephaestus” he says bitterly “machines always have a tendency to malfunction”

“so why can’t your heart malfunction just this once,,, to forgive yourself,,”

“,,,”

“shownu, when you make your contraptions, do you get it perfect on the first try?”

“,,,no”

“exactly, you make mistakes and you learn from them and fix them,, think of your life in the same way”

“it’s,, not that easy”

you intertwine your fingers together and smile reassuringly at him “that’s why you work as a team. the more workers, the quicker the result”

“,,,thank you y/n”

and then he surprises you

he kisses your cheek!!! and then shyly looks away because he’s all red

but it’s so cute that you just laugh “pls rebuild the cute bull”

“yes ma’am”

[superteenwolftrash]

Ravish Her/Peter Pan Smut

Most of these are taken from my Wattpad account! (Twtrash01) Send me requests for the following Fandoms: Teenwolf, Vampire Diaries, Dolantwins, OUAT(Peter Pan, Robbie Kay, Supernatural, Suicide Squad, The 100. Basically I’ll write for any fandom. I’ll write non-smut as well. Be specific in what you want! *I DON’T OWN ANY GIFS*

Request: This one is sorta adventurous so I'm not sure if you're comfortable with it or not. But it's basically a Neverland gangbang. Assuming the lost boys are of appropriate age. Peter Pan of course takes control but for this scenario he'd take sick enjoyment in having his lost boys ravish the reader as much as he is. I kinda imagine it as the reader as a girl in the center of the group instead of Henry from episode one. The whole let's play deal. Also the reader arrived on Neverland recently so she was running from them but they obviously caught her and now want to do the one thing they can't do with each other lol They'd all be at her at once too. But if you want to write it as taking turns that's cool too u do ur magic haha (if you're comfortable with the idea) Can the reader be innocent by the way? Like opposite of the last imagine. Instead of badass she's more shy and terrified of them. Short girl white dress basically the definition of sweet and kind 

The branches cracked under my feet as I ran. I ran as fast as I could mind you. But that didn't seem to be enough, I came to a clearing and I heard the feet stomping getting closer to me. I went to run once again when I hit what felt like a brick wall, knocking me onto my ass. Not that it mattered but the white dress I was wearing probably became dirty which was annoying, but probably the least of my worries. I looked up and I saw that demon that I was warned about. I quickly got to my feet and I glanced around, not being surrounded by boys. "W-who are you?" I choked out, stupid question I already knew who he was. He raised a brow at me, "I'm Peter Pan, Sweetheart." He stated, an amused smirk on his face. He took a step towards me, along with the rest of the boys. I held my arms around me tightly, "What do you want from me?" I asked, trying to sound strong but failing terribly. "We're gonna have some fun." Peter Pan said with a dark chuckle. "Let's play!" Pan shouted, causing the boys to holler. I woke up dazed and confused, "Ah finally! You went and passed out on us." I heard a familiar voice. For just a moment I thought this was all a big dream, until I opened my eyes and was met with a pair of forest green orbs. "Ready to play?" He asked, he looked like a kid on Christmas who got his favorite toy. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up from where I was sitting. I was taken into this very large tent, where four boys stood. They all looked very eager, I quickly looked to the ground avoiding eyes contact with everyone else. I took a small step back, feeling very intimidated. I could feel eyes burning holes into my skin, "Now now don't be shy." Peter whispered into my ear, letting go of my hand. I glance up at the boys, all of them having a very clear smirk on their faces. They were all very attractive, I'll admit that. Don't even get me started on Peter, who was a literal god, despite being an actual demon. "Your dress seems to have gotten a bit dirty, shall we take it off?" Peter asked, I glanced down at the dirt stains on my dress. I swallowed hard, quickly looking around at my surroundings. "I- I don't know." I stuttered out, causing Peter to chuckle, along with the rest of the boys. Peter took my hands and leaned forward, he licked his lips. Peters lips we're almost at mine when I turned my head, causing him to kiss my cheek. I heard a growl come from his lips, the other boys in the room stopped smirking. I guess I had done something wrong, "You know Y/N I can tell you want to kiss me. I can hear you thinking about it. I know everything that goes on around here." Peter stated, "And I can also tell that you want all of them as well." Peter said, gesturing to the four boys, causing them to perk up. "Ah now that you're more willing let's get that dress off, huh?" Peter asked and I nodded, within seconds my dress disappeared. Along with my undergarments, I shivered as the cold air hit my flesh. I could hear the boys gasp, my face immediately flushing. "What a beauty." Peter muttered. "Boys sit down. Take a load off. This beautiful creature is going to take care of me first." Peter spoke, the boys sat down on the bed. Their eyes never leaving my body, Peter looked down at the ground. Hinting to me that that's where I should be, I didn't hesitate when dropping to my knees in front of him. Peter started unbuckling his pants, I could see his boner through his boxers that he gestured for me to take off. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free. It was red and throbbing, I could tell that it hadn't been taken care of in a very long time. I looked up at Peter, who's eyes were shut. I took that as my cue and I hesitantly took his cock into my mouth. A filthy moan fell from his lips, telling me that he liked how that felt. I felt his hands snake through my hair, as I bobbed my head up and down on his cock. I felt Peter buck his hips forward into my mouth until I stopped moving and he was just fucking my mouth at this mouth. I moved my hands to his thighs to steady myself, he hit the back of my throat and tears welled up in my eyes. "Fuck. See boys this is how you do it!" Peter groaned out, within seconds he was cumming and I was swallowing every drop. "Good girl." Peter commented, pulling me to my feet. Before pushing me towards the boys who were anxiously sitting on the bed. I looked back at Peter who was tugging up his pants, the boys quickly stood up. "Be gentle with her, don't put any disgusting marks on her. She's mine." Peter told the boys sternly, the boys all quickly became undressed. All of their cocks standing at attention, "Ravish her." Peter spoke, and that was that. Hands and lips were all over my body, but my eyes maintained eye contact with Peter. Fingers pinched my nipple causing me to moan out in pleasure, a sick smile appearing on Peters face. I felt a hand trail down my stomach, that same hand coming in contact with my clit. "Oh my god!" I moaned, "Look hot wet Pan has gotten her!" One of the boys exclaimed, I flushed with embarrassment. I couldn't tell who's hands were who, all I knew was that a cock was being pushed into my ass and fingers were fingering my aching pussy. A high pitched moan left my lips when he two boys started thrusting in, "You can't leave out the other two, Y/N!" Peter spoke, "Be a good girl for me!" Peter added, I nodded and took my left hand and started jerking off one boy while my right hand did the other. It was hard to find a rhythm but I eventually did, my body was shaking at the amount of pleasure I was receiving. The two boys I was jacking off came not long after I started. The two boys fucking me were holding off as long as they could, they were really enjoying this by the sounds they were making. My eyes never left Peter's, it seemed like he took a sick enjoyment in watch people touch what was 'his'. The two boys quickly pulled out and came on me, obviously knowing that Peter had a boundary with that. I fell on the bed, not seeming to be able to hold myself up anymore. My pussy was still throbbing, I hadn't gotten to cum myself. "You can't even fuck her properly! You'd think after all this time you would've grown some manners and let her cum first!" Peter growled, "Leave us! And fetch Felix!" Peter demanded, "Don't worry, I'll take care of you." Peter told me, a few seconds after the boys left a blonde haired boy with a scar came in that boy being who I could only assume was Felix. "Pan?" Felix asked, "Get rid of them!" Peter seethed.

[frenchibi]

Hello!! 😘Hahahahaha Um so i was stalki- *coughs* 😳i mean scrolling down ur page, reading ur fantastic fluuffy and angsty fics also ur anon replies hahaha u sounds cute hahha the way u reply to them (now that sounds like stalking but not really😱) and saw that one picture about "paid research opportunity: romantic couple study" and was wondering if you could like write an iwaoi about that teehee 😳☺️

Hi there, anon!! First of all - thank you so much for this cute message?? Ahh??? I’m glad you like my writing and my replies, I do try.

As for your request - it got a bit out of hand (and might not quite be what you expected), so I’m gonna put the full fic under the cut (or here, on ao3).

Do check back if you have time and tell me what you thought? To be honest these days feedback is the only thing keeping me from deleting everything.

It’s a foolproof plan. Oikawa is certain.

And not just because it’s, you know, his plan - he’s not exactly known to have the best ideas at all times (though he resents that assessment). This plan, though? It’s fantastic. Everything fits.

When he stumbled on the poster on the board that morning in passing, it felt like divine intervention or something. Finally, an opportunity.

(He deliberately ignores the fact that almost twenty years of friendship have given him more than enough opportunities. Not good ones, though, not failsafe ones, not convincing ones. Never the right time, the right feeling.)

(He’s tired of running.)

(He’s tired of lying to himself.)

Paid research opportunity, the paper reads. Romantic couple study.

~

“So - isn’t it obvious?” Oikawa spins around to face Iwaizumi, gesturing to the poster. “To solve our financial crisis - we pretend we’re dating!”

Iwaizumi stares at him for a full five seconds - before he throws back his head and laughs.

Oikawa is caught between being offended and staring at the unabashed way Iwaizumi is clenching his eyes shut, hands clasped together as he takes a step back and catches himself, as if Oikawa had just told the joke of a century.

When’s the last time he’s seen him laugh like this? Probably recently, even, but somehow, with the way his mind has been working lately, all thoughts directed at Iwaizumi instead of furtively avoiding his (unavoidable) crush, he’s getting more caught up in it than he should be. It’s as if all his filters are suddenly off, and shit, Iwaizumi’s laugh and the effect it has on Oikawa’s heart should be fucking illegal.

Iwaizumi calms down, eyes opening again as he shakes his head. He holds Oikawa’s gaze for another second - and then he turns and walks away.

Oikawa stares after him, dumbstruck, before he snaps out of it, just a little too late.

“Wha- Iwa-chan, wait!”

Iwaizumi chuckles and keeps walking, heading for the stairs. Oikawa breaks into a jog to catch up with him.

“You can’t just- don’t just walk away from me! Hey! I’m serious!”

Iwaizumi barks out another laugh. “Okay, Oikawa. Whatever, man. You do you.”

Oikawa grabs his arm, frustrated, and tugs until Iwaizumi stops walking.

“No!” he says, knowing full-well how petulant he sounds. “Why aren’t you taking me seriously?”

“…really? You need me to answer that?” Iwaizumi pulls his arm free, already turning away again. “Look, it was funny. Let’s move on now.”

“I wasn’t joking, Iwa-chan!”

Iwaizumi stops of his own accord this time, raising his eyebrows at Oikawa.

“Right.”

“No, listen! I know we’re short on money - this is an easy way to fix that problem!”

Iwaizumi scoffs. “By fake-dating.”

“Nobody would know,” Oikawa insists. “And we’re perfect for this - we’ve known each other all our lives!”

“If you want to participate, why not ask one of your fangirls?” There’s no bite in Iwaizumi’s voice, nothing. Oikawa is just about ready to stomp his foot in frustration. Because they’re not who I want to be dating, obviously. Not like he can actually say that.

“They don’t know me, Iwa-chan! Not like you do! Besides, we live together, everything fits, it’s the smartest move-”

“Oikawa - stop. Just- just stop. I don’t know why you’re still pushing, but at this point it’s just… uncomfortable.”

Oikawa does stop, mouth clamping shut.

Uncomfortable.

Yeah, sounds about right.

“…sorry,” he says, and at this point he knows he couldn’t hide the hurt he’s feeling, even if he tried. Not from Iwaizumi. “I wasn’t aware the prospect of dating me is so repulsive to you.”

“That’s not-”

“It’s fine,” Oikawa says, curt. “I’ll keep it in mind. So I’ll know better than to ask you for real.”

It slips out before he can stop himself, bitter and pained, and he presses his lips together tightly right after he says it, as if he could cut off his train of thought that way. It’s stupid, anyway, there’s no way he would-

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it again. He blinks.

“…Oikawa, are you… are you asking me to- to fake-date you because you want to date me for real?”

Oikawa blinks, hating the startled tears that are building in his eyes already.

“Of course not,” he says, automatic, fake, because of course Iwaizumi hit that spike dead-center. How could he not. “That- that’d be-”

But his usual frivolous responses and bravado are suddenly gone - Iwaizumi tends to strip him bare like that, without even trying.

“…you wouldn’t,” Iwaizumi says. His voice is… wrong. “That’d be… we’re best friends, after all.”

Oikawa wants to jump on this, wants to agree, wants to let this subject drop and wants the ground to swallow him whole. But just as he’s opening his mouth to agree, Iwaizumi stutters over the last word, and-

Oikawa raises his eyes, searches for Iwaizumi’s, heart rate suddenly accelerating because-

He’s blushing.

Iwaizumi Hajime, strong, confident, incredible Iwaizumi Hajime is blushing.

“Would it be weird?” he asks, an impulse, sudden and immediate. He knows this isn’t the place for this, the middle of the hallway on a late afternoon, deserted for now but possibly not for long - if he could choose, he’d have this conversation in the comfort of their shared apartment, or inside an empty locker room, away from possible interference. But when will he get another opportunity? When will he be brave enough to bring it up?

Iwaizumi blinks again, and he can’t seem to look away.

“…would you be disgusted, Iwa-chan? Repulsed?” He pushes past his hesitation, right into his fears, and suddenly, talking is easy again. “I mean - you wouldn’t want that, would you? You know who I am. Whiny, flirty, fake Oikawa-”

“Stop,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa does, but mostly because his voice sounds so broken. “If this is a joke - it’s not funny.”

Oikawa shrugs, a helpless smile spreading across his face. “Joke’s on me, anyway. I know you wouldn’t. Sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

He lets out a little sigh, willing his heart to calm down - getting so close obviously got his stupid hopes up, but he knows Iwaizumi doesn’t feel the same, and he needs to get rid of that ruinous feeling before it tears him apart, needs to accept that it’s not gonna happen, not ever-

“You should get back to class,” he says, and he can’t look at him anymore, tears prickling in his eyes, “it wouldn’t do to be late-”

This time, it’s Iwaizumi who grabs his arm and forces him to wait, doesn’t let him get away.

“Oikawa- Tooru, wait.”

Tooru. It means I’m being serious. I need you to drop the act for me.

“Forget it, Iwa-chan, it was just a stupid idea-”

“No. That’s not fair. You don’t get to just-” He makes an exasperated gesture. Oikawa still can’t look at him. “Explain this to me, Tooru. Because- because it sounded- for a second it sounded like I haven’t been imagining this, like you really- like you want-”

“I always want more than people give,” Oikawa says, as smoothly as he can manage, “but you know that, don’t you? I’m selfish. I like being the most important person in your life.”

“No,” Iwaizumi says, “it sounded like you- god, just. Can you look at me, please?”

Oikawa bites his lip, caught. He knows he can’t hide. Not like this.

Slowly, he drags his gaze up to meet Iwaizumi’s.

There’s hurt and confusion in Iwaizumi’s eyes, he looks lost and indignant and all the things Oikawa would have hoped he’d never be the cause of, for him.

“…what do you want me to say, Iwa-chan?” he asks, quiet. Uncharacteristic. He’s just as lost, now, probably. And tired of hiding. “I could say I was kidding, and it was a dumb joke to get you riled up. Then you can shake your head and tell me I’m an idiot and we can move on and forget about all this.”

Iwaizumi acknowledges this by an almost imperceptible nod - he knows, too, that this is how they work, this is how they’ve dealt with these incidents ever since they started happening.

Round and round and round.

Oh, shut up. Idiot.

Quit it, dumbass.

Don’t be stupid, Oikawa. I’ll always be here.

Why are you like this.

Yeah, right.

Whatever, nerd.

There’s never any fire there, any real malice. It’s fond. Exasperated, amused. Familiar.

It should be enough, what they have. But then there are moments, moments where Oikawa can feel some sort of shift into unspoken territory, crossing some line, some boundary, in brief glimpses of vulnerability or in the heat of the moment; bodies a little too close, a hand in his hair or an arm around his shoulders, Iwaizumi’s laugh in his ears, low and warm and happy. Comfortable. Safe.

“Or,” Oikawa says. In the name of these moments he can’t describe, and the hope building in his chest. See me. See me, see me, see me. Please, please just look at me.

Iwaizumi holds his gaze, and it looks like his resolve hardens.

“Or… or I say that you’re right. That… that I asked you because I want what I can’t have, even if it’s just for an afternoon. That I want you to look at me differently. Just once. Just to see what some lucky girl is going to get someday, or some guy who doesn’t have the faintest idea that he’s with the most incredible, breathtaking person-”

He catches his breath because he knows he’s getting carried away, knows he’s sinking into the same fear he’s been carrying since he was 14, that one day someone would come and take Iwaizumi away and never realize that he’s the best, the best person and friend and partner, the kindest and gentlest soul, beautiful and loyal and honest and more, so much more than anyone deserves.

More than Oikawa deserves, for sure. And everything he wants. To be the person who gets to be held by him, who gets to wake up with him, who gets to pepper kisses all over his face whenever he damn well pleases.

He wants to be the reason behind his laughter, and the one to dry his tears. He wants everything he’s so close to but so sure he’ll never reach, and it’s killing him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, into this strange, loaded silence he’s created. “I’m sorry, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi lets out the tiniest of laughs, humorless.

“…sorry for finally telling me the truth? Sounds about right.”

There’s no bite to his words though, nothing upset or disappointed. It startles Oikawa into looking up.

Iwaizumi’s expression is… so raw and open that it catches Oikawa off guard completely, so out of sync with the sound of his voice. He’s blushing and barely fighting back tears, but his gaze is determined, strong. Like he’s found an opening in the opponent’s block.

“So which is it?” he asks with half a shrug. “Is this the part where I shake my head, you’re an idiot, Oikawa and walk away? Or… or is this where I finally get to kiss you?”

Everything just sort of stops. Oikawa is left staring, breath stuck in his throat, blood rushing in his ears.

“…don’t run away from me,” Hajime whispers. “Stop running for one second and look at me.”

And oh, it’s so familiar.

See me, see me. Please, just look at me.

“Iwa-chan.”

He reaches out, fingers finding Iwaizumi’s.

At the touch, Iwaizumi’s shoulders seem to lose some of their tension. Not much, but some, almost impossible to tell. He squeezes back.

It’s out in the open now, said in every way except the actual words. Is this where I finally get to kiss you?

Is this where we finally change, where we’re finally brave enough to take the leap?

There’s no going back.

“It's… safer,” Oikawa whispers, because he needs to be sure, “if you just… walk away from this now.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “I’d never forgive myself if I let you get away.”

Oikawa feels the fingers on his free hand twist into the hem of Iwaizumi’s shirt, feels his heart thrashing against his ribs.

“…then… you think I’m worth chasing, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi lets out a laugh, a little too raw.

“I’ve been chasing you all my life.”

Look at me.

And Oikawa does, because he’ll always be drawn to him, to his smiles, to every word he says. Iwa-chan. Hajime.

Iwaizumi is looking at him - really, openly, unabashedly holding his gaze, and suddenly it feels like everything’s on fire.

Is this where I kiss you?

Oh, please, please, please-

Iwaizumi reaches out, with the hand that’s not holding Oikawa’s, and carefully brushes his fingers over Oikawa’s hip, moving up to rest against his waist. Tentative. Oikawa wants him to be less careful, wants Iwaizumi to grab him and pull him close and kiss him senseless, until he forgets his own name and everything he was ever worried about.

But Iwaizumi takes his time. Deliberate. Like Oikawa is precious and fragile. It makes his heart clench painfully in his chest with a longing he has no words for, that takes over everything.

Can’t you see, I’ve always, always-

“Tell me you don’t want this,” Iwaizumi says, suddenly so close, Oikawa can feel his breath ghost over his lips.

“…and if I do?” Oikawa breathes back. “Will you finally kiss me, then?”

“Finally,” Iwaizumi echoes. He’s holding Oikawa in place at his waist, and gently tugs his other hand free to move it up and brush through Oikawa’s hair, fingers coming to rest gently cupping his face.

They get lost in each other’s eyes for a moment, and nothing else exists. Not the sound of a door somewhere on a different floor, not the distant chatter of students out on the campus grounds.

“Hajime,” Oikawa says, “Hajime, please-”

“Close your eyes,” Iwaizumi says, and Oikawa finds that he’s been left breathless once again just by the tone of Iwaizumi’s voice, by how close he is, by standing at the precipice of a monumental change.

Close your eyes. Do you trust me?

His eyes flutter shut, and he’s hyper-aware of Iwaizumi’s grip (light, careful) around him, of the hand tilting his face just a tiny bit, of the breath he feels against his lips-

There’s a second, a second where nothing happens and Oikawa is ready to burst; so, so close to what he’s always wanted, mind and heart racing, holding his breath, it feels like years-

And then, Iwaizumi closes the distance.

Oh, Oikawa never stood a chance.

Iwaizumi kisses him like he’s fragile; slow and soft and unhurried, pressing their lips together in something chaste and sweet and wonderful, so careful it makes Oikawa’s chest ache. His thumb brushes over Oikawa’s cheek and Oikawa can’t help the broken whimper that forces its way out of his throat, tiny and wrecked, or the tears that immediately shoot into his eyes because oh, oh-

Iwaizumi pulls back with a small gasp, overwhelmed, breathless, just like Oikawa is, and they’re staring at each other, eyes locked, neither of them ready to look away.

“Oh,” Oikawa whispers, and the tiniest of smiles, instinctive and honest, tugs at the corner of Iwaizumi’s lips.

“…yeah,” he agrees, gently brushing a strand of Oikawa’s hair behind his ear.

Oikawa bites his lip, because he wants more, wants Iwaizumi to hold him like he means it, wants to be pushed against a wall and taken apart - wants Iwaizumi more than he’s ever wanted anything.

He has no words to ask Iwaizumi to have his way with him, to tell him to please, please, take me, I’m yours-

So he does the next best thing. He brings his own arms up and closes the distance between them, pressing into Iwaizumi’s chest and claiming his lips a second time, more impatient, more forceful, more desperate than before.

And Iwaizumi, he falls into place instantly. He tugs at Oikawa’s hair to bring him closer, lets Oikawa part his lips and deepen the kiss with a low moan, and pulls him in, finally giving Oikawa some of the possessive pressure he’s craving.

Oikawa loses track of time, breaking them apart just to gasp down a breath of air before their lips are connected again, wet and warm and so, so much better than he could ever have imagined. Finally, Iwaizumi kisses like he craves it, like Oikawa is all he’s ever wanted, like he’d choose him every single time. Like he’s just about ready to shove him up against a wall and leave hickeys all over his neck.

Oikawa really, really wants him to. He wants the world to see that he’s finally, finally-

They break apart, and Oikawa immediately chases Iwaizumi’s mouth, but he stays just out of reach with a breathless laugh, pressing their foreheads together.

“…hey,” he whispers, and Oikawa’s heart skips a beat.

“Iwa-chan.” It’s more a whine than anything else, why did you stop and kiss me again.

“Just,” Iwaizumi says, with another soft laugh, “just- before- before we get carried away and we can’t go back, I just-”

He stops, holding Oikawa’s gaze, and Oikawa realizes that his eyes are damp, too.

“I just need you to know. This - this isn’t a spur of the moment decision. I don’t- I don’t want it to be a one-time thing.”

Oikawa tightens his grip on the back of Iwaizumi’s shirt, heart clenching in his chest.

“Oikawa, I- I’m in love with you.”

Iwaizumi is the only person Oikawa knows who could pull off a confession like this and leave him completely and utterly speechless, breathless and on the verge of tears.

I’m in love with you.

I want this to mean something.

“Oh,” Oikawa whispers, “thank god.”

They’re both winded, incredulous, relieved, and Oikawa really, really wants to kiss him again. He feels like he’s on fire, like the places Iwaizumi has touched are burning in the best possible way.

Iwaizumi is searching his face, and Oikawa slides into a smile - the one he’s always been trying to hide because he knows how his feelings bleed out into it, and how Iwaizumi can read him like an open book.

He doesn’t fight it now - not the smile, and not the stupid, honest tears that are starting to trickle down his cheeks. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that his knees suddenly feel like they can’t hold him up anymore, because Iwaizumi is right there to brush away the tears, and to catch him in his arms.

Right now he seems a little busy with laughing though, small chuckles that slowly build into something bigger.

“…what?” Oikawa asks, not really worried, just slightly bemused. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” Iwaizumi says. “You- you wanted to fake-date me.”

Oikawa pulls his face into the most indignant pout he can muster, revelling in how it makes Iwaizumi snort.

“No fair, Iwa-chan. I had to do something ! I was going crazy, okay?”

“Oh, yeah?” He’s pulling him close by his hips, grinning.

“Yeah,” Oikawa says, eyebrows furrowed somewhere between for show and actual concern. “I just- I was… I don’t know. Too afraid to ask directly.”

Iwaizumi goes quiet for a moment, pensive. “…I get that,” he says slowly, fingers playing with the hem of Oikawa’s shirt.

“…yeah. Sorry it… took so long.”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and smiles. “No. It’s- it’s okay. This is… this is good, right? We don’t have to… think about missed opportunities.”

Oikawa knows he will, because he always gets hung up on what if, no matter how many times he tells his brain to shut the hell up. But maybe- maybe, with Iwaizumi, it’ll be okay. So he grins, and tightens his own grip.

“…I think we’ve got a lot to make up for.”

…and that’s it! If you enjoyed this, please reblog, because it’s the only way my work will get seen!

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