#like honestly even if he ends up being wrong about something and miles gets his way which. because hes the main character he probably will.

[sharksandsquirrelsandsnakes-ohmy]

Who's in Love With the Big Bad Wolf

Masterlist | AO3

Sterek

There was something creeping around Beacon Hills, what else was new? At first, they had thought it was random. They had been finding an unusual amount of dead animals recently. There didn’t seem to be a pattern until it was too late. A particularly creepy string of “gifts” clear it up: something was after Stiles. Again.

~14k

This is when they’re adults (Derek is 31 and Stiles is 28 b/c the cannon timeline makes no sense and Derek was supposed to be 19 in season 1 anyway) and Eli is about 8 years old. Stiles quit working for the FBI after the season 6 raid and decide to move back to Beacon Hills. He ended up working as a deputy under his dad and Derek owns the mechanic’s shop. Stiles and Derek became closer, like actual friends, since Stiles had been back. He even helps with Eli.

I also really enjoy this mental image of Stiles as a cop being just so fucking annoying to his coworkers. Like, he’s the “cool cop” that the teenagers half like and half make fun of because he openly talks about supporting ACAB and leans into the jokes like the Cop Cuties song and he’d totally be like Miles’s dad in Into the Spiderverse when he drops him off at school. I just don’t think he ever grew out of being a menace and, honestly, my favorite part about Stiles is that is is so competent and yet such a mess at the same time.

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It started with a dead birds at the diner Stiles frequented for curly fries– he’d seen some of the poor teenage employees having to bag and toss them in the dumpster. Stiles asked about it when he stopped by the dinner.

“Hey, officer Stilinski. How are you doing today,” the girl working the register asked.

“I’m doing good. How are you, Kimmy,” Stiles asked. He was here too often.

“I’m doing good, “ she smiled. “I saw your other half yesterday. He brought Eli in for an after school snack. He’s such a little cutie,” she said.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m not dating Derek.”

“If you say so,” Kimmy said. “So, a double bacon burger, no tomato, and a side of curly fries?”

Stiles nodded, pulling out his wallet. He was here far too much. “You know me well,” he said, handing over his card. “Not to kill everyone’s appetite, but have you noticed more dead animals around?”

“No, sorry. I just work the register and waitress,” she said, adding “I can ask Jonah but he’d report it if he thought there was something wrong.”

“That’d be great. Just have him give me a call,” Stiles said, taking his card back and handing Kimmy a business card with his work number on it. “Make sure that gets to Jonah, please.”

“Not a problem,” she said, setting it beside the register. “Your food will be ready in a few minutes.”

There were more dead animals around town, dead birds and rabbits at first. Sure, it was odd to see a dead rabbit in city limits but road kill happens everywhere, so it was quickly forgotten.

Then it was cats. The police department would get calls about half-dead cats around town– the hospital, the schools, one was even found at th station– which was when Stiles took notice. There were just too many to be a coincidence. After taking yet another call about a still-twitching dying cat on the steps Eichen House, and after confirming it hadn’t been the work of one of the residents, Stiles decided something needed to be done.

Stiles pulled up to Derek’s shop in the police cruiser. As he got out of the car, Derek walked over, wiping oil off his hands with a rag.

“You’re not helping my reputation by showing up in uniform,” Derek said in a tone Stiles knew to be his approximation of a joke.

“Being friends with a cop who happens to also be the sheriff’s son is hurting business,” Stiles asked with a smirk, leaning on the hood of his car. “I didn’t know you kept that clientele, Der. I mean, I’m all for ACAB, especially when the Feds come poking around but...”

Derek shook his head, standing in front of Stiles. “You really shouldn’t say that while in uniform,” he said, trying not to smile. “I meant because of my history with the department.”

“Then I’m really not about to help it,” Stiles said. “We need to go talk to Deaton about the pest problem, see if he has any recommendations for getting rid of it.”

Derek sighed, “and you want me to ride with you?”

“Saves on gas. Your mom van is a gas guzzler,” Stiles teased, “and I don’t pay for her gas.”

“Her,” Derek asked incredulously.

“Yup, Miss Piggy,” Stiles said, snickering at his own joke as he tapped on the hood.

Derek sighed, looking at the ground and wondering why the fuck he put up with Stiles. “Let me tell the guys I’m headed out,” he said, turning to walk back to the shop.

“Your husband taking you out for lunch,” one of the shop employees asked Derek as he walked back in.

“Not my husband, I’m not married,” Derek grumbled, walking into the office for his phone.

“Fucking, fine. Your boyfriend, then.”

“Not my boyfriend either,” Derek said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be. If you break something, it better belong to you and not a customer.”

Derek ignored the jeering as he walked back to the police cruiser. Like a bunch of toddlers, arguing with them made it into a game. He opened the passenger door and sat down, waiting for Stiles to drive off.

Derek looked at Stiles, finding him staring. “What?”

“Put your seatbelt on.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Stiles said, waiting. “Put your seatbelt on.”

“You never wear a seatbelt, Stiles.”

Stiles gestured to himself. “I’m wearing it right now. We’re in the cruiser, put it on.”

Derek rolled his eyes but put on his seatbelt.

“Thank you,” Stiles sighed, backing up. “You know, you should really wear it all the time so Eli learns to wear his.”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed.

“What? I’m just saying, I don’t want to have to pull him over when he starts driving because he doesn’t wear one,” Stiles said, putting the car in drive and heading for Deaton’s.

“You’ll probably be pulling him over anyway with how much time he spends with you,” Derek scoffed.

“Even more reason for you to be a good influence,” Stiles shrugged, “plus, I hate to break it to you, you’re his dad. I’m just the babysitter.”

Derek frowned. “You’re not just the babysitter,” he said.

Stiles gave Derek a quick glance, hearing the change in tone. “Then what am I, Der? The not-uncle he stays the night with?”

“I had hoped you say yourself as part of the pack and…” Derek cut himself off.

“And what?”

“Nothing,” Derek mumbled, leaning over to turn up the radio.

🎶Cop cuties, cute n' on duty. Navy blue booties.🎶

“I hate you,” Derek grumbled, leaning back in his seat as Stiles laughed.

Derek and Stiles got out of the car at the animal clinic, making their plans for the evening as Stiles turned off his body cam.

“Well, if you want anything other than spaghetti, we’ll have to stop at the store before going to my place,” Stiles said, opening the door.

“Mine it is, then,” Derek said, walking inside. “Eli’s been on this thing where he won’t eat noodles ever since he saw that deer with worms.”

Stiles grimaced, “I think I might not eat noodles either, now.”

Deaton smiled at Stiles and Derek when they walked in. “I knew I’d be seeing you soon,” he commented, getting their attention.

“We’re actually trying this new thing where we ignore the supernatural happenings in this town. Much easier for us that way,” Stiles said sarcastically, hooking his thumbs in his duty belt.

“Don’t you look like your father,” Deaton said, giving Stiles a smile.

Stiles dropped his arms to his sides, not sure what to do with them that wouldn’t look more like his dad.

“What do you know about the dead animals,” Derek asked, his annoyance with Deaton loud and clear.

“I know less than Deputy Stilinski, here. Possibly less than yourself if your patrol has continued,” Deaton said.

“So you don’t know anything,” Derek asked again.

“I never said that,” Deaton retorted, “but I’m not sure how much help I can be.”

“Just tell us what you do know and we’ll tell you if it fills in any gaps,” Stiles said, settling on shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I can tell you this isn’t simple animal attacks. It’s quiet deliberately leaving these animals on the brink of death.”

“Why,” Derek asked.

“That, I’m not sure of,” Deaton said.

“Fine. What is it using to do it? Teeth? Knife? What?”

“Teeth, certainly, and Canine at that,” Deaton explained.

“Oh, wow. That really clears things up,” Stiles mumbled. “Dog, wolf, coyote? What kind of canine? And I know you know because you’re the one getting called to put them down.”

“It’s very difficult to tell the difference between the bite of a dog and that of a wolf. In fact—”

“Same ratio and number of teeth but wolves have thicker teeth, more developed molars, and longer canines,” Stiles said, cutting him off. “If you don’t want to help, let me look for myself.”

Deaton gave a polite smile, the one that you knew was hiding annoyance. “It seems to be a wolf, thought not a typical specimen.”

“Great. That’s all you had to say,” Stiles said, matching Deaton’s thinly vailed annoyance with his own. “Unless you have anything to add about a possible pattern or motive, we’re going to leave and figure it out.”

“You two have certainly become quite the duo, haven’t you,” Deaton hummed. “I will let you know if there are any more pertinent developments.”

“I don't know what you're trying to insinuate and I don't care, but I still don't like it,” Stiles said. “I have less than 20 minutes left in my break, so we're leaving.”

He grabbed Derek’s arm and started walking away. Derek followed after him, letting Stiles lead him back to the car by his arm.

They made it outside and Stiles rolled his eyes. “Why does he always have to be cryptic and minimally informative at best,” he complained. “I mean, come on! When we were teenagers, I kind of understood him not wanting to tell us everything but now? I’ve been dealing with this shit for over ten years— you’ve delt with it your whole life— but he acts like he can’t trust us.”

“Can I have my arm back,” Derek asked.

“Shit,” Stiles let go, “sorry. He pisses me off, acting all shady.” He rubbed his face. “I need food or I’m gonna stay pissed off.”

“You drive. I’ll call the diner,” Derek said, rolling his eyes.

“You’re my favorite right now,” Stiles sighed, unlocking the cruiser.

“Favorite what,” Derek asked, opening the passenger door.

“Well, it can’t be alpha since that would mean picking between you and Scott. Can’t be favorite werewolf or favorite Hale since Eli definitely holds those titles.” Stiles clicked his tongue as he thought. ”I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”

Derek rolled his eyes, trying not to let Stiles catch his smile. “You’re ridiculous.”

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Stiles got off work at five and headed over to Derek’s house. He didn't bother to knock, just walking into the house. He said a quick hello and headed for the bathroom to change out of his uniform. He retuned to the kitchen once he’d changed into his sweats and a comfy t-shirt.

“Hi Stiles,” Eli said, looking up from his homework as Stiles walked in.

“Hey, kid,” Stiles said, walking over to th breakfast bar where Eli was working. “What are you doing now?”

Derek turned to watch the pair interact. It never failed to make Derek feel like he’d made the right choice in staying. They might not have a lot of family left but Eli had so many people that loved him than any ‘village’ ever could.

“Math,” Eli grumbled. “I have a whole page of multiplication and division!”

“You’ll be fine. You’re good at math,” Stiles said, ruffing Eli’s hair.

“But it’s boring and it takes too long,” Eli whined.

Derek sighed. “I have a feeling I’m going to hear all about that tonight,” he mumbled, catching Stiles’s smile at the comment.

“What time is your meeting,” Stiles asked, looking at him.

Sometimes it was hard to think when Stiles looked at him like that. It made this whole arrangement feel a little too domestic for friends. There was something in the way Stiles never had a second thought when it came to caring for Eli that had Derek wondering what things could be. Honestly, it was always had to thing around Stiles. Maybe that’s why Derek acted without thinking around him.

“Can I read my book instead,” Eli asked, looking rather miserable.

“That’s fine,” Derek said and Eli jumped down, running off to the living room. Derek sighed and turned his attention back to Stiles. “I meet with his teacher in an hour and a half,” he said. “There’s a pizza in the oven. The stove timer is on, so don’t burn the house down. Eli has this page of math and he has a book he needs to finish reading. You just need to sign the sheet when he finishes it. I’m going to go change.”

Stiles pulled out his laptop, looking over the reports of dead animals around town. Something just didn’t seem right. He made sure Eli was still reading every few minutes and decided to call Scott just to ramble about what was going on, trying to get the events straight for himself.

“Dude, I’m sure it’s nothing,” Scott said, not seeming to care. “Probably just some stupid teens playing a prank or something,” he said.

Derek walked in in time to hear the tail end of Scott’s comment. He rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything about it.

“What,” Stiles asked is disbelief, remembering how many times Scott brushed things off before. “Scott, dude, the only person I know who would think leaving dead animals around town is a good prank is Peter, who is insane.”

“Maybe they got a little too into the occult,” Scott suggested, not really paying attention.

“That may be the dumbest theory I’ve heard from him yet,” Derek grumbled before ducking off to parent-teacher conference for Eli.

Stiles decided talking to Scott was no help and started to look into it on his own. He spent the night bouncing between staring at the list of reports and listening to Eli’s comments about the book he was reading.

There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason behind the reports and things were only getting worse.

Stiles and Derek were getting uneasy as the animals got larger and more frequent. Some opposums were killed. A racoon here and there. Next it was dogs. The station was on high alert for a dangerous predator and so was the pack.

Stiles laid on Derek’s couch, throwing a ball in the air and catching it while Derek cooked dinner. He was trying to go over his list of mental notes about the dead animals: where were they, how long had they been there, how many were dead when found, how many were only half-dead, would some of those dead ones have lived if found sooner, was there a pattern in how many of each were killed? It was too much to keep in his head.

“I’m grabbing paper from your office,” Stiles said, sitting up on the couch.

“Don’t go snooping,” Derek answered and Stiles smirked.

“Well now I want to…” he joked, getting up and making his way to the office.

He grabbed a hunk of the loose notebook paper and the cup of highlighters, pens, and pencils kept specifically for him. By the time Stiles made his way to the kitchen counter with the paper and pens, Derek had already set a cup of tea by his usual spot. Stiles sat down and started to scribble down his mental notes. One page was dedicated to locations of dead animals and Stiles kept adding more he’d seen himself along with the dates.

Derek looked at Stiles list. “Are these all the reports,” he asked, surprise by just how many there were.

“Huh? Oh,” Stiles took the marker out from between his teeth. “Yup. All the reports and the ones I’ve seen.” He turned the page so Derek could read it from the opposite side of the counter. “The red is reports and the yellow is mine.”

“You’ve seen… a lot. How have you found that many,” Derek asked, looking at him curiously.

Stiles shrugged, “I have no clue, dude. I feel like I see them everywhere I go…”

“Really,” Derek asked. Stiles met his eyes, biting the end of the marker. “I never see them, at least I don’t when I’m not with you. Maybe you draw them in,” he joked, picking up the paper to read the locations more closely.

Stiles smiled at Derek. “What can I say? I’m just a magnet for the supernatural.”

“A magnet for trouble, maybe,” Derek scoffed, giving the paper back and turned his attention to the food.

Days would pass where fewer animals were found. Some were worse, some where better but there was always dead animals in odd places. Stiles would add locations to the running list kept in Derek’s office, not that they were able to figure anything out.

Then it escalated.

Stiles had miraculously managed to get a parking spot in front of Eli’s school– a rarity especially on a Friday. The best part of driving the jeep was that it would fit in just about any parking spot he needed it to and that included squeezing between the pompous better-than-thou mom in the cheap Bentley parked like she owned the place and the very apologetic Mr. Jacobs who had to bring the truck with the hay bed to pickup.

Stiles had decided to sit the the hood of the jeep until the bell rang so Eli would see him past the large truck. He was on the phone with Derek as he drove back from the airport with Cora in the passenger seat. She had meant to be there yesterday but her flight got delayed and made her miss the layover. It was a whole shit show and Derek had to pick her up.

“We’ll only be another thirty minutes,” Derek sighed. “I’m sorry, Stiles.”

“No, it’s totally good. I don’t mind picking him up. Eli’s great! We’ll get a snack, do homework and then go to the park or something,” Stiles said.

“I– fuck… I know you don’t mind but I still feel like shit for not telling you sooner,” Derek grumbled.

“Dude, relax. Get some food, too. I can deal with you being hangry but not you and Cora being hangry,” Stiles said. “Eli and I will be fine for thirty extra minutes. He’ll probably watch Bluey.”

“You say that like you’re not also going to watch Bluey,” Derek teased.

“Hey, Bluey is awesome,” Stiles scoffed. “Drive safe, don’t die, and text me when you’re ten minutes out. We’ll need time to clean up after the total rager of a party we’re throwing.”

Derek stifled a laugh, “thank you Stiles. I feel better that Eli will be with you.”

“No problem, Der,” Stiles said with a smile.

“Der,” Cora snickered and Stiles paled. “Gag me with a spoon. Jesus, when did you two get so cozy?”

“You’ve been gone three years,” Derek argued.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was on speaker,” Stiles asked, going from pale to bright red from embarrassment.

“I’m driving, Stiles. My phone is connected to the car,” Derek said.

“I didn’t know you were in the mom van.”

“The camaro is inconvenient. Cora has a suitcase,” Derek said.

“I would feel less embarrassed by the camaro but, I have to admit, this is comfy and the heated seats are nice,” Cora hummed.

“Thank you,” Derek said exasperatedly.

“Still weird for you to have a mom van,” Stiles said. “Alright, you guys get food and I’ll text you when Eli and I get back to the house.”

“Bye Stiles.”

“Bye, Cora. Bye Derek,” Stiles said and hung up. He checked the time, playing a game on his phone while he waited.

When the bell rang, Stiles tucked his phone in his pocket. Annoyingly, since he was still in uniform, the pocket was smaller than his jeans. He stood up, watching for Eli’s class to head out. He saw Eli’s teacher bringing her class out and spotted Eli talking to one of his friends. Stiles smiled, waiting for Eli to look for him. They weren’t in any kind of a hurry so he let them talk.

Eli and his friend eventually parted when the other kid’s parent showed up. Eli looked around and saw Stiles waiting for him. He ran over and hugged Stiles.

“Stiles, guess what? I got a B on my spelling test,” Eli declared excitedly, letting go of Stiles.

“Holy cow, dude! You must have worked so hard,” Stiles said, holding up a hand to Eli. He gave him a high five and and Stiles smiled. “Alright, here’s the plan,” he said, placing a hand on Eli’s shoulder and guiding him to the passenger side of the jeep, “first, snack and homework. Then, we’ll go to the—”

A scream cut Stiles short. He grabbed Eli, pulling him close and getting to the ground. Stiles looked around, trying to listen to what was happening.

“Get under the jeep,” he whispered, pushing Eli to safety.

Stiles moved to see what was going on but staying as low as possible. Rather than everyone running, they seemed frozen in place. The teachers had moved all the students close to building but not inside. Looking around more Stiles saw it.

A deer that had been mauled by something and was near death was running across the elementary school court yard. Stiles watched as the deer’s skin ripped and it crumpled to the ground, blood and gore leaking into the grass.

“Stiles,” Eli whimpered, pulling his attention.

“Hey buddy,” Stiles said softly, pulling Eli out from under the jeep since there was no visible threat. He wiped tears off of Eli’s face and smiled at him. “It’s okay. Everyone is safe, just a deer running around and scaring people,” Stiles assured him and Eli nodded, calming down. “You did so good, dude. I’m so proud of you,” he smiled, hugging Eli tightly.

Stiles hadn’t wanted to scare him but he also wanted to keep him safe and if he needed a hug now, so be it. Stiles picked Eli up and pulled out his phone, calling his dad.

“I know someone’s probably already called but there’s a deer laying in the grass in front of the elementary school. Deaton can’t help this one, though,” Stiles said.

Sheriff Noah Stilinski sighed. “You’re about the tenth person to call… Why are you at the elementary school?”

“Picking up Eli,” Stiles said. He didn’t need to clarify why. Derek and Eli had become such an important part of his life, there was no need to. He had Eli a lot.

“Did he see anything,” Sheriff asked worriedly.

“Uh, no but I might have scared him a little bit…”

“Poor kid,” Sheriff mumbled. “There’s officers on the way to manage traffick and animal control for the rest. You get Eli home.”

“Will do. Talk to you later, dad,” Stiles said, hanging up and putting his phone back in his pocket. He placed his free hand on Eli’s back. “Why don’t we just go home, buddy? I’ll even let you have a little ice cream.”

Stiles hurried Eli into the jeep, pulling out his phone to text Derek as he got in. Something was wrong.

He took Eli back to Derek’s house. Eli didn’t leave Stiles’s side for a second. He was still glued to Stiles when Derek and Cora got back.

Derek scooped Eli up in a hug, holding him close. Stiles took the chance and got up to go pee. He met Derek’s eyes when he stood up.

Derek mouthed ‘thank you’ as he held his kid.

Stiles smiled at him and headed for the bathroom. When he got back, he didn’t see anyone. He wandered into the kitchen for a drink and found Cora.

“Hey, where’s Derek and Eli,” Stiles asked, leaning on the counter.

She hummed, closing one cabinet and opening another. “They’re in Eli’s room. Derek’s trying to distract him with toys and shit.” Cora said, groaning when she couldn’t find whatever she was looking for. “Where the fuck does he keep the peanut butter?”

“Eli’s allergic to peanuts but there’s sunflower butter in the tall cabinet,” Stiles said. He walked over, opening the tall cabinet, moving a few cans and pulling out the jar of sunflower butter.

Cora looked at Stiles suspiciously. “You’re sure familiar with the kitchen,” she commented, taking the jar and setting it on the counter with the bread and jelly she’d already found. “Any particular reason for that?”

“Derek asks me to help out with Eli and I do,” Stiles said, grabbing a packet of fruit snacks and sitting at the counter.

“You must help a lot if you know exactly where the peanut butter is,” Cora suggested, looking down at her sandwich. There was no way these two idiots were just friends. Derek might be stupid but he couldn’t be so stupid to have not made a move in the three years she’d been gone.

He shrugged. “Guess you could say that. Eli likes pb&j after swimming so I figured it out.”

“You take him swimming a lot,” Cora asked, feigning curiosity.

“No so much anymore,” Stiles said, breathing out heavily as he thought. “He used to want to go swimming everyday. Recently, though, he’s been wanting to wander the preserve more but he still likes playing in the pond out there.” He smiled, adding “Der blames that on me but I doubt you guys didn’t do the same as kids. “

Cora hummed. “That nickname, he lets you call him that? You know, I used to call him Der-bear when we were little– he had this whole thing with carebears— but he doesn’t let me use my nickname for him so I’m just… confused as to why he’s okay with you using one.”

“Der-bear, really,” Stiles asked, huffing a laugh. “The nickname thing is a Derek question.”

“I only ask because you two seem,” Cora thought a moment, “closer than last time I was here.”

“Cora, if you want to ask me if I’m dating your brother then just ask,” Stiles said.

“I wasn’t—”

“I’ve had this conversation with Peter too, only he choose to comment about Derek, Eli, and I making a day trip to the beach and then about how I was the only adult Derek had one-on-one time with outside of work,” Stiles said. “You both seem to like dancing around the subject.”

“I am nothing like Peter. You take that back,” Cora scoffed. “And I was getting there.”

“Then just ask.”

“Fine. Are you dating my brother?”

“No,” Stiles said. “We’re friends and Derek trusts me to take care of Eli because we went through Hell and back.”

“But you have feelings for him,” Cora said and Stiles sighed.

“Even if I do—”

“You do.”

“Even if I do,” Stiles repeated, “it doesn’t matter. Derek and I are friends. I won’t risk losing him and Eli for a fling that could ruin everything. I wouldn’t do that to them.”

Cora nodded, taking a bite of her sandwich. Without the discussion to distract her, she realized how weird the sunflower peanut butter tasted. After a few bites, she couldn't finish it and dropped the food back onto the plate. “This tastes awful,” she mumbled.

“Ya, the ‘sunbutter’ kind of tastes like dirt,” Stiles said, making air quotes for the name as he said it.

“I didn’t know Eli was allergic to peanuts. How did I not know,” Cora asked, concern in her voice.

“Oh, it scared the shit out of us,” Stiles huffed. “The first time he had peanuts, he was fine. The next time he had a little bit of a rash but he’d also had dragon fruit for the first time so we didn’t think it was the peanuts butter. But the last time? He broke out it hives and was coughing…” he shook his head. “We drove him to the hospital– Derek was doing his whole internal freak out where he looks fine to everyone else but we know– and they gave him a shot. They watched him until they were sure he was good and then sent us home. Little shit went right to sleep.”

Cora rolled her eyes, “I bet Derek was still freaking out.”

“Oh, ya. Big time,” Stiles said. “I don’t think either of us slept. I didn’t know werewolves could have allergies.”

“Once he starts shifting, it should go away,” Cora explained.

“Derek said that too but I’m not sure he’ll ever let Eli have peanuts again.”

“Derek used to be allergic to dogs before he grew out of it,” Cora said, poking at her sandwich disappointedly.

Stiles watched Cora’s face, looking for any sign of it being a joke. “Derek, who can now fully shift into a wolf, used to be allergic to dogs,” he asked, devolving in to laughter. “That’s fucking awesome.”

“Mom had to make a rule about shifting in the house because of it,” she added.

Once Eli had calmed down and was no longer stuck to Derek or Stiles, they discussed what they should do. Stiles made the suggestion of going to the school and Derek agreed. Cora, after learning what was going on, offered to watch Eli while they went to the school later that evening.

When they got there, the dead deer was gone but the blood was harder to remove. They had tried to wash it away but Derek way still able to follow the smell of blood. Stiles made a joke about Derek sticking his head out the window and got a glare in return. They decided to stay in the jeep until they had to get out since it was getting dark. Stiles drove slowly, letting Derek give directions based on the smell.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t there,” Derek mumbled, kicking himself internally.

“You couldn’t have known,” Stiles said. “Besides, it’s not like you could have done anything. He didn’t see anything. He just got scared and that was honestly my fault for over reacting.”

Derek nodded. “Thank you for protecting him.”

“Like I’d let anything hurt him,” Stiles scoffed. “Hell, I was fully ready to take a bullet for him today.” Stiles licked his lips as the thought sunk in. He was completely ready to put himself in front of a shooter, unarmed, to protect Eli.

“Are you okay,” Derek asked, his eyebrows knitting together in concern.

“Ya, I’m good. It’s just the first time in a long time I really thought my life could be on the line, ya know?”

“Stop here,” Derek said and Stiles pulled over.

The lights of the jeep pointed at a wooded area not too far from the school and Stiles groaned.

“Always the fucking trees,” Stiles groaned. “This is a new shirt. And there’s probably ticks.”

Stiles turned off the jeep and they got out. He walked around to the back and Derek stood close by. He opened the jeep and grabbed his bat, handing it to Derek, and pulled out a jacket, his old red one.

“The fact that that still fits you is…” Derek looked over Stiles, how he had packed muscle onto his thin frame, “crazy…”

Stiles closed the back of the jeep and took his bat back from Derek. “The fact that it has no rips or holes is crazy,” he said. Stiles started to to walk towards the trees. Derek grabbed his arm, stopping him. Stiles looked at the hand on his arm and up to Derek’s eyes. “What?”

Derek’s mouth hung open as his brain caught up to his actions. “It’s been a while since the last time we did this, so let me take the lead.”

“Only because near death is my least favorite type of experience,” Stiles agreed.

They started into the trees, arms brushing past each other as they walked. They both noticed how close they were but didn’t move away. Being close was comforting, safe. Derek was also able to keep Stiles from tripping on downed branches and holes, especially as they walked deeper into the woods.

Stiles was about to pop off some snarky comment or another when Derek stopped moving. Knowing what that meant by now, Stiles stopped too. He saw Derek tense up like a dog with its hackles raised and he tightened the grip on his bat.

“What is it, Der,” Stiles whispered, looking around for a sign of movement.

Derek started walking again, holding a hand out for Stiles to wait where he was, not that he listened. As they walked, the smell of blood got stronger and was joined by decay. Stiles grimaced, pulling his jacket up to cover his nose.

“What the fuck,” Stiles muttered, his eyes finding the source of the smell.

In front of them was a dead coyote that had been well snacked on and a flat rock with a bloody blob that the flies had taken too on top. As Derek looked over the dead coyote, Stiles inched closer to the red blob.

“It stinks of a werewolf. An omega, I’d guess,” Derek said, keeping his voice low.

“So we don’t have to worry about a pack,” Stiles asked, his voice muffled by the jacket and his pinched nose.

“No but its violent,” Derek grumbled. “It ripped out this coyote’s heart.”

The rock looked like it had been placed intentionally, almost like a table. The smell got significantly worse as he got closer. Shooing away the flies, the piece of bloody meat was revealed.

“Ah, shit,” Stiles winced. “Well, I found the heart.”

Derek was at Stiles’s side in seconds, a little closer than necessary, to look at what he’d found. They were so close that Stiles could feel his hood brushing against Derek’s shoulder. If he’d noticed, Derek didn’t move away. They’d become rather comfortable in each others personal space.

“Looks cult-ish if you ask me,” Stiles said, leaning his bat against his leg so he had free hands to pull his phone out and snap a picture. He wanted to be able to reference the details later when he did more research into types of rituals. It was the first solid lead they’d gotten so far.

Derek heard something and turned to look around. It was a small noise, like a twig snapping a ways off. It was probably just a rabbit or animal that was supposed to be out there but considering where they were… He felt on edge. They were taking a risk being out here, just the two of them. If the rouge wolf was out here and looking to pick a fight, they were open on all sides. While the dark wouldn’t effect the wolves as much, it put Stiles at a disadvantage. Derek kept looking around, listening as Stiles mumbled about what it might be and what the display could mean.

A flash of blue caught Derek’s attention. He tensed, watching closely. The blue glow settled becoming a clear set of eyes. Eyes that met Derek’s. The blood red of his own eyes showing through. They needed to leave.

He grabbed Stiles’s jacket, looking around intently. “We need to go,” he said, not giving Stiles time to react before pulling him away.

“Shit,” Stiles huffed, stumbling over his own feet. “Wait, Derek, I dropped my bat.”

“Leave it. I’ll get you a new one,” he growled, moving faster.

Derek kept looking behind them, cursing under his breath.

“What’s chasing us,” Stiles huffed, out of breath from half running, half being dragged behind Derek. He kept tripping as he tried to keep up.

At some point, he gave up on Stiles running to keep up. Derek hardly paused, throwing Stiles over his shoulder, and kept moving. They got back to the jeep in what was surely record time, even for them. Derek shoved Stiles in the passenger seat and got in the driver’s seat. He turned on the lights, watching.

“Give me the keys,” Derek said frantically, “now, Stiles!”

Derek watched the treeline carefully, growing more nervous by the second. Stiles dug through his pockets, trying to find them. Not in his jacket. Not in his back pocket. Left… Right… Right!

“Keys,” Stiles shouted, shoving them into Derek’s hand.

He shoved the keys in the ignition and started the jeep. The engine clicked as he turned the key, not starting.

“Come on, Roscoe” Stiles mumbled, looking between he trees and Derek. “Come on. Come on— OH FUCK,” he yelled, watching as a dark shape came running out of the trees.

The engine turned over, starting just in time. Derek threw the jeep in reverse, cursing the clutch as he slowly sped up.

“It’s catching up,” Stiles said, watching the werewolf following them while Derek watched behind them, driving in reverse as fast as he could.

When they got to the first intersection, Derek used the opportunity to whip the jeep around. He turned hard, shifting to neutral to control the spin. He shifted into drive and took off.

Stiles sat in the passenger seat, looking at Derek. “Where the fuck did you learn that,” he asked, not sure if he was terrified or turned on. Maybe a little bit of both…

“I was on the run from the FBI,” Derek said, keeping an eye on the dark road behind them.

Derek had deemed it important that they figure out what was going on tonight and make a game plan. They had been too close to the werewolf and it now had their scents. It knew who they were.

They picked up Eli and made their way to Stiles’s apartment. It wasn’t far from where Derek’s loft had been years before, meaning it wasn’t exactly the most secure area. Nonetheless, Stiles taught Eli to play chess while Derek went out to get stuff for dinner since Stiles’s fridge was near empty– that tended to happen when they ate at Derek’s as much as they had been.

Elli got bored well before Derek got back so Stiles handed over his switch. With Eli sufficiently distracted, Stiles pulled the hanging cork board out, using a map of the town to pinpoint the recent troubles of Beacon Hills. Things just didn’t seem to line up. Stiles looked at the map of where the animals had been left: his dad’s house, the grocery store, the diner, the police station, the elementary school, the pool, the hospital, Deaton’s vet office… The places where the dead animals were appearing didn’t have an obvious pattern.

When Derek got back with groceries, he found Stiles looking between his laptop and the cork board and Eli playing on the switch in the other room.

“Did you figure anything out,” Derek asked, setting the bags on the counter.

Stiles hummed, not really in agreement or disagreement, more in the way of acknowledging he heard but was too preoccupied to answer. Derek rolled his eyes at the response and started cooking, waiting for Stiles to pull his mind out of the research.

Derek was almost done cooking when Stiles seemed to come out of the digital world with a start.

“I feel like I’m going crazy,” Stiles said, his eyes finding Derek in the kitchen. “I mean, there’s a lot of rituals surrounding the heart, and I mean a lot but nothing that this matches. There was not runes, not pictures, nothing! Plus, a lot of rituals that we would actually need to worry about require a human heart and I’m pretty sure that was the coyote’s heart!”

Derek remembered the smell, well. He waited for the break in words before adding, “it was the coyote’s heart.”

“Great, then what the fuck is going on,” Stiles asked rhetorically.

“Stiles, you can’t say that! That’s a bad word,” Eli said, looking between Derek and Stiles wide eyed. “I’m joking. I know you say bad words. So does dad,” he said, walking over to the table.

Derek looked down at the counter, taking a deep breath, before looking at Stiles. “That’s your fault,” he said as Stiles tried not to laugh. “You think it’s funny? Then you get to deal with that when he’s a teenager.”

Stiles scoffed. “Oh, please. I have heard enough from Cora and Peter to know you were a handful in high school, too.”

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response other than to say, they are both unreliable narrators,” Derek argued, turning to get Eli’s plate which consisted mac and cheese and hot dogs– seemingly the only thing the kid ate. “Eat your food and then grab your book out of your backpack. You’ve had more than enough video game time.”

“Jeez, dad, you’re so boring,” Stiles mumbled, making Eli smile. “Listen to your dad, Eli. You don’t want to make him mad. Trust me, I know. I used to make him really mad a lot.”

“Used to,” Derek shot back questioningly.

“Yup, because now you willingly come over and cook me dinner,” Stiles said with a grin. “I annoyed you until you l—” He cut his words short, making eye contact with Derek. He seemed amused, though it didn’t look all that different from his normal unamused face. “Alright, Eli. You have to tell us all about your day now,” Stites said, moving to sit at the table with Eli while Derek finished cooking.

Scott finally called back and Stiles started to explain what was going on, having to switch to a video call so Scott could get the “full understanding” with the help of the cork board he had set up in the middle of his apartment.

“Then Derek and I found the dead coyote in the trees by Eli’s school and its heart had been ripped out and displayed on a rock like it was a table! I was trying to look up what might be happening but it didn’t have any of the needed symbols or killing method for a ritual sacrifice,” Stiles explained, seeing Derek walk to the kitchen out of the corner of his eye.

“Have you stopped to think that I might be right,” Scott asked. “If it doesn’t seem like a ritual, then it might just be some teenagers who—”

“What about the deer, Scott? That was planned. It wanted us to go looking,” Stiles argued. “So, I did some more research and I kept seeing stuff about how killing and offering food is a pretty normal habit when it comes to mating behaviors in predators and— oh, thanks Der,” Stiles said, stopping his ramble to take the pate of food from Derek.

“Eli’s asleep in your room,” Derek said, casting a quick glare at Scott on the computer screen.

“Shit, am I being too loud? I didn’t wake him up, did I,” Stiles asked with a mouth full of food.

Derek shook his head, looking over Stiles and then the board. “Not yet. You should have just used my office. The house was build with werewolf hearing in mind.”

Stiles nodded, “I know but I didn’t want to make a mess—”

“Swallow before you talk,” Derek grumbled, a mix of disgust and humor in his voice.

Stiles rolled his eyes, swallowing the mouthful of food that would rival Scooby Doo. “Mine, Dad. Don’t ground me,” he joked, meeting Derek’s eyes.

Something in the way Derek looked at him made his stomach feel like it was trying to digest itself. They had become close. Sharing a meal and spending time at each other’s place had become normal. Derek and Eli had become a big part of Stiles’s life

“Uh, guys,” Scott said awkwardly after a long stretch of, what was for him, very uncomfortable silence.

Stiles’s eye snapped to his computer, remembering that Scott was, in fact, still on the phone. He held the plate out to Derek, nearly choking on the food still in his mouth as he tried to start talking again as if nothing had happened.

Derek put Stiles’s plate on the table next to his own. He sat down to eat, his eyes casting up to watch Stiles’s wild gesturing as he explained his theories to Scott. Quick glances at Stiles soon turned into outright staring. Derek shook his head, going back to eating, and if a small smile found it’s way to his lips, then so be it.

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Stiles found himself laying on his couch, wanting nothing more than to crash but his apartment felt too empty and quiet. Derek had taken Eli home to go to bed a few hours ago, leaving everything simultaneously too quiet and too loud at the same time. He liked having them around, it made the apartment feel less lonely.

He was trying to gather the energy to peel himself off the couch for a shower when the doorbell buzzed it’s broken noise.

Stiles sat up in surprise. Who the fuck would be ringing the doorbell at– he looked at the time– one in the god damned morning? Anyone who he’d expect knew the doorbell was crap and both his dad and Derek had a key– for ‘emergencies’ only– and would normally just knock before walking in.

He got up, going to grab his bat and remembering it was gone. He mentally cursed, feeling a bit like a sitting duck without it. He walked closer to the door and looked out the peephole but nobody was there. That didn’t sit well with him. Stiles made sure the door was locked and decided this was worth having a weapon in case shit went sideways.

When he returned to the door with his gun– the one assigned to him as a deputy– he looked through the peephole again and, again, there was nobody. He unlocked the door, opening it slowly. His stomach dropped when the door’s movement made something wooden fall. His bat.

Stiles looked around cautiously before kneeling to grab the bat and closing the door to his apartment quickly. Relocking the door, he set his gun down on the counter and looked over the bat. It was his all right, the wear and tear proved that. He turned it over in his hands, finding a heart carved into it. He looked at it closer, tracing it with his finger. It was roughly carved and had jagged edges, like it had been done with claws instead of a knife. Comparing it with the other damage on the bat only seemed to confirm the unsettling conclusion.

Almost on instinct, he called Derek.

“You’ll never guess what just appeared outside my door,” Stiles said. He was met by silence so he kept talking. “Either I’m a wizard and learned how to summon things without words or our new buddy returned my bat. And, get this, carved a heart into it.”

Stiles heard a heavy breath and sheets ruffling on the other end. “Are you okay,” Derek asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“Fuck, did I wake you up,” Stiles cringed, looking at the time again. “Sorry, Der. I’m fine. It’s all good, just a little odd.”

Derek sighed and the sheets ruffled again. “Do you want to stay here,” he asked and Stiles’s stomach did flips.

“No, I’ll be okay,” Stiles said, running a hand through his hair. “Just thought you’d want to know I had a visitor.”

“You should—” Derek yawned— “mountain ash the doors and windows.”

Stiles nodded, grabbing his gun and walking to his bookshelf in search of the little box. “Doing it now. I’ll call you in the morning. You’ll be the first one I tell if I die.”

Derek hummed. “Bye Stiles.”

“Bye Der,” Stiles mumbled, hanging up.

Without Derek on the other end of the phone, Stiles was suddenly hyper aware of how alone he was. Of how dark his apartment was. He opened the box and took a handful of mountain ash and set the box back on the shelf.

Something in the back of his head screamed he was in danger, telling him not to turn around. He could hear how his heart rate picked up and how his breathing matched it. He felt like someone was watching him.

Stiles took a breath and flipped off the safety his gun, biting back the fear.

“Alright, motherfucker. I have mountain ash, a gun loaded with wolfsbane bullets, and an itchy trigger finger. I’d suggest not fucking with me, tonight,” Stiles said.

The words wouldn’t due much but it made him feel better, less like he was being watched.

He spun around, making a visual sweep of the room. His apartment was so quiet he could hear his own pulse. Looking around, he remembered just how many windows he had. Any other time, the light would be great but right now it had him cursing under his breath. He kept the safety off as he spread the mountain ash across every entry to the apartment. He also did his bedroom and closet doors for good measure. Before he went to bed, he flicked on all the lights to do one more sweep, including checking under his bed.

He felt a little childish when he laid down but it was good for his sanity.

Stiles woke up to his phone ringing and banging on his front door. He sat up groggily, having only gotten a few hours of sleep. He grabbed his phone and walked to his front door. He opened the door, finding Derek. He tried to walk it and got knocked on his ass by the mountain ash barrier.

“Fuck, sorry,” Stiles mumbled, kicking the ash and helping Derek up. “Are you okay?”

“Are you,” Derek asked, sounding almost out of breath. He grabbed Stiles’s arms as if to make sure he was really there and in one piece. He looked panicked, still in his bed clothes.

“Ya, I’m good,” Stiles mumbled. “I’m fucking exhausted, though. Why’d you wake me up?”

Derek looked at Stiles like he was crazy. “You called me last night saying you had a— visitor,” he whispered the last word, pulling Stiles back into the apartment.

He closed the door behind them, not letting go of Stiles. Derek’s eyes looked Stiles’s over, making sure he wasn’t hurt. Somehow, the fact the Stiles wasn’t wearing a shirt didn’t cross his mind and neither did their proximity. Derek had pulled Stiles closer when they moved inside. There was hardly a foot of distance between them. It would have been so easy to just lean in…

Derek let go of Stiles, chewing his lip as the thoughts stuck around, and started to walk around the apartment, looking at each window.

Stiles felt like he was still dreaming. None of the last few seconds made sense outside of being a dream. By the time he looked up, Derek was walking further into the apartment. “Hey, my bedroom—” Stiles sighed, watching Derek bounce off yet another mountain ash barrier. “Too late.”

Stiles walked over, breaking the ash line so Derek could walk through. He nervously watched as Derek searched for any sign of the other werewolf. He didn’t find anything and walked back over to Stiles.

“All clear,” he asked and Derek nodded, once more in his personal space. “Great. Can I—”

“Where’s the bat,” Derek asked.

Stiles blinked trying to remember. “Uh, by the door, I think. Where it usually is.”

Derek turned and walked off. Stiles, not having anything else to do, followed him. Derek picked up the bat, examining it.

“Like I said, it’s my bat,” Stiles shrugged, crossing his arms. “They carved a heart into it but— AH! You just broke my bat,” Stiles said in disbelief, staring at Derek who had half the bat in each hand. “That was my fucking bat!”

Derek growled, throwing the broken pieces in the trash. “I already told you, I’ll get you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new bat. I want my bat,” Stiles objected. “I went to hell and back with that thing! It has a burnt chunk from Parish! A ring from the ghost rider’s lasso! Claw marks from– well– everything! I think you even put some marks on it.”

Derek grabbed Stiles’s flailing hands, holding them tightly in his. “Stiles,” he said firmly, standing so close they were practically on top of of each other, “you don’t want it anymore.” His tone reminded Stiles of how he’d explain to Eli something he wanted was dangerous. That same mix of worry and stress and fear he’d end up hurt in Derek’s voice. “You don’t take anything it gives you or it will follow you. Accepting the gifts is accepting it.”

From then on, both Stiles and Derek were on high alert. This wolf had found where Stiles lived, had gotten into the apartment building, and all the way to Stiles’s door. If it had wanted to do something, it could have. If it wanted to get in, it would have. Sure, Stiles wasn’t helpless but he also wasn’t prepared for a random attack. And, personally, Stiles really didn’t feel like having to defend his life in his boxers.

It became a routine. Every night, Stiles would call Derek when he got off work and headed home, talking to him as he checked his apartment and laid down mountain ash. Every morning, Derek would swing by Stiles’s apartment before Stiles would leave for his shift. Every morning he found nothing. There was no sign nor scent of the other wolf. It seemed to be weighing on Derek. Each day he looked more tired than the last.

Derek glared at the large windows in Stiles’s bedroom, one which that let out to the fire escape. “I don’t like this,” he grumbled.

“I’m not the biggest fan of it either, Der,” Stiles mumbled, only half awake. “I’m fucking exhausted because all of my dreams– nightmares, really– have been about getting mauled in my sleep. You're back to being your old self, meaning you growl at anything that breathes wrong and—”

“I meant the fire escape,” Derek snapped and Stiles had to remind himself that pissed off Derek was, in fact, not attractive. “Easy access for anyone willing to come looking.”

“So, the shit you used to pull,” Stiles asked, teasingly. Normally Derek would take it in good humor and throw something similar back at him. “You do remember that the fact that my bedroom window at dad's house wouldn’t lock was your fault?”

Derek glared at Stiles, not in the mood for jokes. “If you remember, I fixed it. Just like I fixed your jeep.”

“Why are you so pissed off,” Stiles asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought we were past the whole taking your anger out on innocent parties thing?”

“Shut up,” Derek growled, walking back towards the living room.

Stiles, gritted his teeth, pretending to strangle Derek as he walked away. He followed Derek to the living room

“You’re being a fucking asshole, you know that,” Stiles huffed. Derek turned to glare at him. Not attractive. Nope. Not at all. “I didn’t do anything to deserve you treating me like a clueless teenager all over again. Go be shitty to Peter, he more than deserves it!”

“Peter has been watching Eli,” Derek said. “I come here before he wakes up and I go on patrol after he’s asleep. Someone has to watch him.”

“What about Cora,” Stiles asked.

“She’s already gone. Can’t stand to be in here more than a few days,” Derek grumbled, the hurt of his sister leaving over and over thinly veiled.

“You’ve go to be fucking kidding, right? Of course she can’t stand it here! I’m surprised you can,” Stiles said. “I mean, after every shitty thing this town has thrown at you, why do you stay? What about Eli?”

“Eli is fine,” Derek growled.

“What makes you so sure,” Stiles asked. “I mean, I doubt you ever thought what happened to your family would happen and your pack—”

Derek shoved Stiles against the wall, holding him there. “Stop. Talking.” Stiles could see the anger in Derek’s eyes but he could see the hurt behind it too.

He was trying to meet Derek’s eyes but his lips were distracting. They were so close, he could feel Derek’s breath, pulling Stiles’s eyes lower. This isn’t attractive, he reminded himself. Fuck, he felt like a stupid hormonal teenager again. He was too caught in his own reaction to notice Derek’s very similar one.

“A bit familiar, isn’t this,” Stiles asked in a whisper. There was no need to be louder with how close they were. “Earth to Derek. Are you planning to kiss me or kill me? Shoving me against the wall is giving mixed signals.”

Derek didn’t say anything, rather he furrowed his brow in what was somewhere between constipation and thinking which Stiles knew was reserved for things he refused to talk about. He let go of Stiles, backing up to straighten his jacket. Derek looked out the window, gathering his thoughts, and Stiles waited expectantly.

“I’m sorry,” Derek grumbled.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “That’s it,” he asked. “You pull out the old douche-bag act on someone who is supposed to be your friend and all you say is sorry? Not even going to record it? Grab a ukulele and make a sorry-not-sorry type song?”

Derek huffed a laugh and looked at Stiles, “what do you want, a cake?”

“Actually, yes! Apology baked goods would be great,” Stiles said, crossing his arms. “Now, why are you acting all,” he gestured to Derek, “weird? Is it lack of sleep because, seriously Der, you look like you’re about to pass out.”

“I’m fine,” Derek grumbled.

“Dude, call into work for a day. You look exhausted and it’s not like you’re going to fire yourself for it,” Stiles said.

“I said, I’m fine,” Derek repeated. “And don’t call me dude.”

“I don’t believe you,” Stiles said stubbornly. “Go home, take Eli to school, and get some sleep.”

“Stiles—”

“Derek, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he said, crossing his arms. “Try me. I have wolfsbane and mountain ash. You’ll get some sleep one way or another.”

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Stiles walked out of the police station, heading to the jeep after a shit load of paper work. He was so tired, his eyes were starting to blur and it was already getting dark. He wanted to kick himself for parking the jeep in the back lot as the cold wind bit at his skin. It was a long cold walk to the jeep.

When his eyes found the jeep he groaned. “Fuck me,” he grumbled, staring at what he was 90% sure was blood on the hood and a bag of something.

How the fuck was this his life? He trudged closer and, upon closer inspection, found the blood streaks formed a heart. The bag sat in the middle of the heart and was soaked in blood. Stiles ran a hand through his hair, feeling like pulling it out. Instead, he pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Derek.

Stiles used a pen to drag the bag off the hood and onto the ground. He grabbed a water bottle out of the jeep and stabbed a hole it the lid. He sprayed the water on the hood, getting most of the blood off. It made him uncomfortable that it came off so easily, it meant it was fresh. He debated if it would be worse to look in the bag or toss it and go on not knowing. Stiles decided to look, the anxiety that it could be– like– his dad’s severed fingers winning over the risk of being seen as ‘accepting’ the gift.

He grabbed the top of the bag, trying to touch it as little as possible. Inside was a pile of wolfsbane flowers, a folded piece of paper, and a ring coated in dirt and dried blood.

Stiles unfolded the paper, reading it. His eyes went wide and he shoved it all back in the bag and threw it in the jeep.

He jumped in and called Derek. He started to drive, impatiently waiting for Derek to answer the phone.

“Stiles? What’s going on,” Derek asked tiredly, his recent habit on twenty hour days wearing on him.

“I found a little gift display in the jeep after I left work,” Stiles told him. “I think out forest friend likes me.”

“What kind of gift,” Derek asked, feeling frozen in place. Stiles could heard the stress in his voice.

“Well, it drew a heart on my hood in what I assume was it’s own blood since it picked me lovely bouquet of wolfsbane flowers. It wrote me an interesting poem— the kind a stalker would leave– and, oh ya, a fucking engagement ring!”

“Come here. It could follow you home,” Derek told him.

“What about Eli,” Stiles asked, driving away from the station lest his new buddy be hanging around still.

“I’ll call Peter,” Derek said without hesitation. He had to be worried if he was willing to ask Peter for help. “It’s less likely to do something in my house.”

Stiles made the turn for Derek’s house. “Ya, okay. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Derek said. He’d wait for Stiles. He’d wait in more ways than he’d admit.

Stiles didn’t hang up. He didn’t have anything more to say, he just didn’t want to. Derek didn’t hang up either. They just let the silence rest between them as Stiles drove. Stiles didn’t hang up until he was pulling into the driveway.

Derek walked over to the jeep, opening the door for Stiles. He took the bloody bag from Stiles’s hands and stayed close as he got out. He kept a hand on Stiles’s back as they walked to the front door.

Once Stiles was inside, Derek stopped and looked around. They were being watched and it wasn’t happy but neither was he. Derek walked inside, locking the door behind him. If it wanted a fight, it’d be on Derek’s terms.

Stiles was pacing in the living room, his hands visibly shaking. He was freaking out, piecing things together in his head. All the dead animals were found in places he went to. There were dead animals at the grocery store he went to but not the one across town. They were found at the diner but not that chinese place he refused to go to. They were found at Eli’s school, at the police station, all along Stiles’s patrol route, everywhere he went regularly.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, dropping the bag on the coffee table. It was like he hadn’t said anything, like Stiles didn’t hear him. “Stiles,” he said more firmly, walking closer to him. He touched Stiles’s arm and finally got his attention.

He was looking at Derek with wide eyes. Before Derek could say anything, Stiles started to ramble. “It’s me. I’m the pattern. That’s why it was at my apartment and I keep finding the dead animals. It’s after me and I came here. It could have followed me. What if it followed me? What if it tries something? What about Eli? Fuck, Eli’s not safe with me. Not safe with me here. What if it tries to hurt Eli because of me? What if it hurts you? I can’t stay here! I can’t go to my dad’s! I’m putting everyone in danger. I have to leave. Derek, it—”

“Stiles,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles by his arms to hold him in place. “Breathe. It’s not going to come in here. It’d have to be insane and damn near suicidal to challange me in my own home.”

The smell of anxiety and guilt circled Stiles like a hurricane. The smell was bitter, it stung Derek’s nose. He hated when Stiles got worked up like this. He swore Stiles’s chemosignals were stronger than other people’s. Stiles didn’t know the definition of the word subtle and neither did his emotions. He felt things in the extreme or not at all. Derek could never decide if it was the ADHD or if it was just who Stiles was. Maybe it wasn’t either, maybe Derek was just paying too much attention to him. Stiles met Derek’s eyes and the swirl of emotion started to dissipate.

It was leaving dead animals all along Stiles’s path except at Derek’s shop and Derek’s house. It never got close or left ‘gifts’ when he was with Derek. It was everywhere… except where Derek was.

“It’s after me but wonn’t come near you,” Stiles said. “Oh, I bet it’s real pissed off right now…”

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Stiles felt calm for the first time in weeks. It was just him, Eli, and Derek having a movie night like they normally would.

They'd made homemade pizza– aka they made the dough from a packet and added the toppings themselves instead of a frozen one– for dinner and made popcorn afterwards. Eli had picked out a movie and they'd all sat on the couch together like normal. Eli didn't even make it through the first half of the movie before falling asleep, leaning on Stiles.

Stiles played with Eli’s hair as he slept, watching the movie in the brief moment of peace. He wanted to keep these memories forever, the times where everything just felt right. With Eli asleep tucked into his side and Derek quietly laughing at the movie. If it could last forever, he'd happily deal with the popcorn kernels stuck in his teeth. It was moments like that when it all seemed to make sense.

When the movie ended, Derek got up and took their mugs to the kitchen. He came back with fresh tea for Stiles and himself. He started another movie and sat down on the couch again.

“I’ve missed doing this,” Stiles said. “Things have been too…”

“Too much like the past,” Derek offered.

“Ya. Reminiscent but not in a good way,” Stiles decided.

Derek hummed, pulling Eli’s blanket up. “We all needed this. A night where things are back to normal,” he sighed, pushing Eli’s hair off his face.

Eli’s nose scrunched in his sleep and he turned his head into Stiles, curling in closer.

Stiles’s smiled, wrapping an arm around the sleeping kid. “It’s weird to think that this is our normal now. I mean, you’re a dad. I’m a cop. Scott’s in LA doing god knows what. Scott used to be my best friend and now I couldn’t even tell you the street he lives on but I could find your house blindfolded,” he huffed, trying to laugh it off. “It’s crazy to think that, out of everything, you and Eli are the most important things in my life,” he said, the words coming out before he could think them through. “Shit, sorry, That was weird.”

“You and Eli,” Derek said, nodding. “You two are the most important parts of my life.”

Stiles looked at Derek. He felt like his heart was going to explode. “Really? Not Cora or Malia or even Peter?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Stiles, do you realize how much of an impact you’ve made on my life? You’ve helped me raise Eli. When I bought the garage, you watched Eli every day so I could get things sorted out.”

“What else where you going to do,” Stiles asked, brushing it off. “He was, what, one?”

“Eli and I lived in your apartment when construction on this house got delayed and then you helped us move in here.”

“Well, ya. Keeping a three-year-old were-toddler in a hotel would have sucked and you needed help,” Stiles shrugged.

“You call in favors and switch your shifts around whenever I need you to pick Eli up from school or drop him off,” Derek says “You bought him toys and games that stay at your apartment or your dad’d house.”

“My dad loves Eli! He says he gets to have all the fun of having a kid without the hard parts.”

“Eli calls your dad grandpa,” Derek said, not sure how Stiles kelp acting like this was all nothing.

Stiles paused. “Okay, you got me on that one… Why are you bringing this all up?”

“I just…” Derek stared back at Stiles, not sure what to say. He didn’t want to ruin everything but, he wondered, would saying it really ruin anything? “I don’t think you understand how important you are.” Maybe later. Maybe he could say it when things weren’t so… heavy.

~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~●~♡~●~○~

Stiles was staring at his laptop screen when he felt a person behind him. He was in the middle of typing something out, not at a point where he could stop, and gave an acknowledging hum when a hand rested on the back of his chair. They didn’t say anything, waiting for Stiles to stop typing.

“Hey, Der. I didn’t hear you come in,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He practically jumped out of his skin when he looked up. He did jump out of the chair, staring at what was not Derek and was most definitely the werewolf they’d been attempting to track. “You’re not Derek.”

The werewolf’s smile fell. “Why do you always bring him up,” it growled. “You should forget about him. You don’t need him. You need me.”

“What,” Stiles asked, trying to move towards his bookshelf where his box of mountain ash sat.

The werewolf growled and rushed to grab Stiles. It grabbed him by the neck, shoving him against the bookshelf. Stiles winced, the wooded shelves pushing into his back.

Stiles’s hand reached out, trying for the box of mountain ash just out of reach. The werewolf snatched Stiles’s wrist, slamming it against the wooded bookshelf. Stiles lost his breath at the sharp pain, near certain his wrist was broken.

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to keep me out again. I don’t like it when you do that.” Its expression softened into a grin, a calloused finger running along Stiles’s face. “So pretty. My pretty boy,” it cooed. “I finally got you alone without that nuisance. I have you all to myself.”

“What do you want,” Stiles choked up.

The werewolf smiled. “What do I want? I want you, silly. You’re mine and that mut of yours was keeping you from me. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Nothing can stop love, not even your pet.”

“You mean Derek?”

“Him and his half-breed,” it hummed, their fingers tightening around Stiles’s neck in their anger. “They’ll never love you like I do, nobody ever will and if he’d kept out of it, we would have been together sooner.” Their grip loosened as Stiles started to turn red from the lack of oxygen. “Oh, sorry my love. I don’t mean to be too rough on you. You really shouldn’t anger me, though.”

“What’d you do to them,” Stiles hissed.

“Nothing, yet,” the wolf growled it’s grip around Stiles’s neck tightening, cutting off his air, “but if you keep bringing them up I might. You might as well forget about them now, got it?”

Stiles bit his tongue, nodding, and the grip around his neck loosened.

“Good, because in the morning we’re getting far away from here and them,” the wolf said, sounding pleased. “As for now, well, I think I’ve been very patient with you. I brought you food and gifts. I’m even willing to forgive you for ignoring me. Isn’t that so kind of me?” The wolf licked it’s lips, “you ought to be thankful. You can show me how thankful you are, can’t you?”

“I’d rather eat glass,” Stiles sneered.

“We can arrange that,” the wolf growled, its claws breaking the skin of Stiles’s neck. It let go of Stiles’s wrist, giving his a second of reprieve, before using its full strength to throw his across the room.

“You want to fight, let’s fight, but I promise you’ll regret it,” the wolf said and Stiles scrambled to his feet.

He didn’t have many options. He was down to his left had, his right wrist aching like a son of a bitch and already swelling. The wolf was between Stiles and his room, meaning no chance at the mountain ash or getting his gun. He could try for the kitchen knifes or the front door but the werewolf was faster and stronger than him.

Stiles felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He had his phone. If he could unlock it, he might be able to call someone or—

“Hey siri, call Derek Hale,” Stiles said, watching as the wolf in front of him’s eye went wide.

“Fucking whore! Calling your mutt when I’m right here,” it yelled, charging at Stiles again.

“Stiles?”

“Fuck,” Stiles muttered, trying to keep distance. “Derek, it’s here. I need h—” Stiles was cut short by a hand around his throat.

“Bad decision,” the wolf growled, taking Stiles’s phone and crushing it. “Now you’ll get to watch me kill you’re little play thing. How fucking disgusting can you be, using him for safety and running off when you don’t need him. Toying with him and his kid like you have any right to them. All in front of me, too. Just to show off that you have him wrapped around your finger,” the wolf growled, trapping Stiles against the kitchen counter.

“He loves you and you use it. You take and you take and you take like you deserve it. Someone you acts like you doesn't deserve anything. Don’t worry, I know how to deal with spoiled brats like you,” it said with a sick grin. “Why don’t we have some fun while we wait for your big bad wolf to come save you?”

“Eat mistletoe and live, bitch,” Stiles choked out.

He reached behind him and grabbed a glass vial. He shoved it in the wolf’s mouth. In the moment of surprise, it’s grip on Stiles’s neck loosed. Stiles took the opportunity to headbut the wolf, breaking the glass vial full of powdered mistletoe in its mouth.

The wolf coughed, trying to breath and sucked in a mouth full of glass and poison.

Stiles scrambled to his bedroom, grabbing his gun. He heard a loud crash and turned, pointing the gun at the doorway. In the low light from the window, he saw a figure in the doorway. The lights were flicked on, blinding Stiles. Before his sight came back, the gun was out of his hands and he was wrapped in a tight hug.

“GET THE FU—”

“Stiles…”

“Derek?”

He held Stiles tighter. “You’re okay,” Derek whispered.

“I’m mostly okay,” Stiles said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt his pain starting to be leached away. “Oh shit,” he mumbled, loosing his feet but Derek held him up.

“Wait,” Stiles pulled away, “what about—”

“Drowning in his own blood,” Derek said plainly.

“I need be sure,” Stiles said, nerves clear in his voice.

He took his gun, holding it in his left hand and leading the way back to the kitchen.

Sure enough, there the werewolf was, laying on the floor. It had managed to roll onto its side, managing to get some air as the blood dripped from its mouth. Stiles scowled down at the wolf, kicking it onto its back. It coughed as blood filled it’s mouth again, the blood splattering back onto its face and the floor. It gargled on the blood, trying to get air.

It tried to reach for Stiles and Derek pulled him away, growling possessively. Breathing in the mountain ash made it too weak to move much more.

“Can you call Deaton,” Stiles asked. “I’d rather not have this creep here any longer than need be.”

The wolf smiled, coughing up more blood as it tried to laugh. “Told you… just a stupid pet…”

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Derek took Stiles to the emergency room and, sure enough, his wrist was broken. After getting a few splinters pulled out and a cast, they deemed Stiles free to go.

That night, Derek had let Stiles stay at his house. The guest room had already been made and Derek had brought him food. Stiles just laid in the bed, unable to sleep. He was paranoid something was going to happen, that the windows weren’t properly locked of warded. The room was silent, there was no noise from the outside world. While that might be great and all at any other time, it made Stiles feel completely alone. The half drawn blackout curtains made it dark, even in the day.

It felt isolating but Stiles was frozen in place, unable to change it. He didn’t sleep at all that night.

Derek came in at some point in the morning and brought him food.

“Did you sleep at all,” Derek asked, keeping his voice low. Stiles didn’t answer, staring blankly up at Derek.

What if they were right? Did Derek love him? Could he? Could anyone really love him? He was so fucked up after everything that had happened as a teen, was loveable? Did he love Derek? Of course he did. He’d always found Derek attractive and the friendship they’d build in the past years made him love Derek. He wasn’t sure what would be more painful: loving Derek and not being loved back or knowing he’d been hurting Derek with his ignorance.

“You can stay here as long as you need,” Derek told him, setting the plate of food on the nightstand. He started to ask something else but thought better, not wanting to make things worse. “There’s clothes in the dresser, just stuff you’ve left here. The bathroom is— well, you know where it is— but you can use it anytime. Uhm…” Why was he lingering? Derek sighed. “Do you want the door open or closed?”

If Derek did love him, had he been blind to it? How would he have not caught on? They were always together. He’d basically helped raise Eli in the last years and— Oh. Oh…

Stiles looked at Derek. He had said something, asked something? He was waiting for an answer…

“I’ll leave it open and you can close it if you want,” Derek finally said. “I’ll let you have some space now…”

Derek left the room, leaving the door open behind him. Stiles could hear him walk away. He heard him go down the stairs. He heard Eli digging in his Legos in the next room. He heard Eli laugh at a show he was watching. Hearing them, knowing he wasn’t alone, felt like a wave of relief washing over him and Stiles was finally able to sleep.

When he woke up, Stiles saw a tuft of hair at the edge of his bed. His heart was in his throat, too scared to move. He shifted slightly, moving the blankets. It must have startled the person at the edge of the bed as they turned to look at him.

Eli smiled up at Stiles from his spot on the floor. “Hi sleepyhead,” he said with a smile. He made quick work of climbing into the bed and getting comfortable, unplugging his headphones from the tablet so Stiles could hear.

Derek was at the door seconds later, he sighed when he saw both Eli and Stiles safe. “Eli,” he huffed, “I told you to stay to let Stiles sleep.”

“I didn’t wake him up. I waited right there on the floor,” he said firmly, frowning up at his dad. Little Eli was giving his dad the full force of the patented Hale look. Looking between Derek and Eli, the resemblance was clear. Derek had a little copy of himself but that sass was definitely Stiles’s influence. Eli had technically done what he was told and that was close enough.

“Come on, Eli. Let Stiles sleep,” Derek said, returning Eli’s frown.

Stiles saw himself in Eli’s personality. He’d taught him that– even if by accident– because he had helped take care of him. Derek trusted Stiles enough to help take care of Eli, to help raise him. That part of Eli was his doing.

“He’s okay,” Stiles mumbled, tucking a lose strand of hair behind Eli’s ear.

Derek looked surprised, happy maybe, hearing Stiles talk. He hoped it meant the shock was passing. “Okay,” he said. Derek relaxed, kissing the top of Eli’s head and turning to leave. He stopped in the doorway, watching Stiles and Eli.

Eli pressed play on an episode of Miraculous Ladybug. They’d watched it before but Eli liked rewatching them. Stiles wrapped an arm around Eli, keeping him close. Having Eli there, doing something they normally do, felt comfortable.

He was comfortable with Derek and Eli but not with being alone. He didn’t know what that said about him. Maybe he was too dependent on them. Maybe he was just trying to get over being stalked and physically assaulted when he was alone. Whatever it was, having Eli and Derek around felt normal and Stiles could really use normal at the moment.

It took Stiles a while to pull himself out of bed for more than a few minute to use the bathroom. When he did, he wanted to shower.

He opened the dresser drawer and, like Derek said, there were his clothes. They were neatly folded and stacked with care. He pulled some clothes out, looking them over. He hadn’t seen this shirt in weeks. He must have left it here. When was the last time he wore it? Maybe the last time they took Eli hiking? But that a while ago. How long had his clothes been here, neatly folded like this? When did Derek take the time to do all of this?

Stiles bundled up his change of clothes, venturing out of the guest room and into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and set his clothes on the counter. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror reminded him how badly he needed to shower. His hair was greasy and stuck up every which way. The cut on his face had dried blood coating it.

He turned the water on, letting it get warm, and opened the closet. His hand fell to the third shelf were the towels were kept. He paused. Had he really done this enough times to know exactly where the towels were? He used to give Eli baths when he was younger and would go to the pool with him and Derek a lot. Stiles shook himself out of it and took the towel, hanging it by the shower.

He stripped off his clothes, casually throwing them in the laundry hamper. Again, he wondered when that had become a habit. How many times had he just tossed his clothes in with Derek’s and Eli’s?

Stiles adjusted the water temperature and got in, sighing as the water washed over him. The warm water felt good on his skin. He felt himself relax, letting the water run over his shoulders and back. He grabbed a bottle of soap– his soap, the same brand, scent, and everything– and put it on a loofah– his loofah that stayed here. His preferred soap was in the shower along with a loofah that was his. He would often shower here to save time before going out to eat or to a movie with Derek and Eli and, sometimes, his dad. How had he never noticed before?

Stiles finished showering and dried off. He pulled on his clothes and opened the drawer on the far left of the sink. He pulled out a box of new toothbrushes Derek kept around. Stiles thought about how he knew where to find it so quickly as he put toothpaste on. As he brushed his teeth, he mentally listed things and surprised himself by knowing exactly where it would be in the bathroom.

When Stiles ventured downstairs, he found Derek and Eli in the living room, each doing their own thing. Derek was reading a book and Eli was putting together a puzzle– or they were until they noticed Stilles walking into the living room. Derek looked at him, his expression changing just the tiniest bit but Stiles knew it was a smile. Stiles returned the look and sat on the couch. He looked to the side, finding his stress ball sitting on the end table.

This was his spot. He always sat here or laid down on the couch. He knew that there would be a weighted blanket in coffee table cabinet if he wanted it– they kept it around for him. He looked at the shelf of movies, finding the random movies he’d gotten to watch with Eli and Derek, some just for him and Derek. Those movies were there because of him, so many things were there because of him.

Derek went to the kitchen some time after and Eli went back to his room to play with Legos, leaving Stiles in the living room. He stood up and stretched, wandering into the kitchen. He watched as Derek set a cup of tea on the counter, just in front of Stiles’s usual spot. It would be green tea, like usual. It was Derek’s small way of trying to get him to make healthier choices, like their cooking. Derek would add Stiles to their meals to keep him from eating Ramen and frozen burritos for every meal.

Stiles sat at the counter, smiling to himself. Maybe what happened wasn’t all bad; it made him aware of the things he did so easily. It reminded him of where he was and what those around him did. He was seeing all the things he and Eli and Derek did for each other.

It was nice to know a place for him had been carved out here even in the small ways. It was like seeing their relationship from a different perspective. He could see how people thought him and Derek were dating. It made him wonder if Derek ever thought about his as more than a friend, Stiles did.

He thought about what it would be like if him and Derek were a couple. He thought about how everything would change. Thinking about it now, Stiles realized it really wouldn’t change that much about them. They already spent most of their free time together. They already made dinner and went shopping together. They already had movie nights curled up on the couch together. They already went hiking and swimming together. They’d taken day trips to the beach together. They felt safer together. Hell, the only things that would change is that he might stay the night, that he could kiss Derek, and that he didn’t have to keep denying how he felt about it.

“What’s got you thinking so hard,” Derek asked with a smirk, sipping his tea.

Stiles sighed, looking at Derek. “Have you ever thought about us being more than friends,” Stiles asked, deciding it would be easiest to just ask and not dance around the bush. “We spend so much time together and take care of each other. Would it really be that different?”

“I have,” Derek said softly, putting his cup down. “It would be different, though. It would mean we had romantic feelings for each other.”

“Is that different,” Stiles asked, meeting Derek’s eyes.

“Is it,” Derek asked back.

“It would mean you felt the same way I do,” he said, licking his lips. “Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s not different except for what we call it– call us.” Stiles waited for Derek to say something but he was silent. “Do you want to? Want to be my… boyfriend? Partner? Whatever you want to call it.”

“I’d be happy to be you ‘whatever you want to call it’,” Derek said, a slight teasing tone to his voice.

Stiles smiled to himself. “Don’t be an ass about it,” he joked. “Boyfriend sounds so childish and I think of work when I say partner. I don’t know what to call it.”

Derek rounded the counter and wrapped an arm around Stiles. “We can figure that out later,” he said. “For now, we’re just us.”

“I like us,” Stiles sighed, relaxing into Derek.

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Stiles was laying down on the couch, his feet in Derek’s lap. Stiles was half watching tv and half watching Derek. He was reading, one hand holding his book and the other on Stiles’s ankle. Stiles was really liking the whole “us” thing, especially since it meant he could openly stare at Derek.

“What about significant other,” Stiles suggested.

Derek looked up from his book and at Stiles. “Don’t people normally say that when they’re married?”

“I guess so,” Stiles said. He grabbed his new phone and looked up alternatives to ‘boyfriend’ and couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you my bae,” Stiles teased and Derek cringed. “Oh, or my Boo? My flame? My suitor?”

Derek smirked, “What are you reading,” he asked.

“My companion? Lover? Admirer? Paramour? Sweetheart? My beau?”

Derek sighed, turning off Stiles’s phone. “Why don’t we just stick with significant other,” he asked.

Stiles smiled, “that works for me.”

[fictionmeister]

astv spoilers

am i like the ONLY person on earth who thinks Miguel is completely justified and is the only one with common sense? like Miles literally killed thousands of people by interrupting that canon event (that black hole swallowed tons of buildings in mumbattan) just to save 1 person.

and Gwen knew that would happen and just sort of? let him do it? and she was such a coward for not explaining it to him IMMEDIATELY,,, like of course, he would do something stupid like that if he doesn't understand the whole situation!!

and everyone is just like aww i don't wanna hurt miles' feelings. but like. they had no problem putting the pressure on him in the first movie (including gwen and peter B) when they felt he wasnt ready to be spiderman. they got on his ass then, but now that the stakes are higher they wont?? like you're gonna have to hurt his feelings if it means literally saving entire universes. multiverses even.

miguel personally experienced the loss of his family TWICE. all the fken spiderpeople know exactly what it feels like to watch the people you love die and not being able to do anything abou it. and miguel not only had it happen once, he CAUSED it to happen a second time and destroyed not only his family but the entire universe they lived in. he has seen firsthand what kind of damage that SELFISHNESS can cause--- he fucked up the canon and now millions of people are dead and gone forever. just because he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. "being spiderman is a sacrifice-- thats the job--" he understands that fate is inevitable. its simply the nature of being spiderman. and miles hasnt lost as much as they have so of course he doesnt want to lose it. i understand his motives too. but its extremely selfish to try and save one person if it WILL cause horrible consequences (not might!! WILL!!) of COURSE miguel is gonna go apeshit when some kid who thinks hes special and different from all the other spiderpeople comes along trying to prove a point that will cause so much damage. i think he finds it INCREDIBLY insulting because he suffered so fucking much in order to learn a horrible lesson-- and he wants to teach others that lesson so they dont make the exact same mistake and cause more damage-- but miles is just like "no i dont wanna" like. why would you want to learn things the hard way when someone else already learned the hard way FOR you. literally so disrespectful 😭 i think if i were in miguel's position i would fight just as hard and be just as pissed. end rant.

[emmyrosee]

Can we talk about how rintaro probably swallows your engagement ring by accident?

Honestly? Okay listen… Do you think he swallows it? I think he swallows it.

Because like okay. Rintaro puts a ton of planning behind everything he does, he wants to make your engagement this massive scene out of a movie because you’re out of a movie; you swooped into his life and showed him the path he wants to be on, the one that always leads back to you.

But like. Why would everything not crumble around him each and every time he tries to work up the courage to finally pop that four word phrase?

It was supposed to be simple. It was supposed to be easy.

An engagement ring, propped on some frosting on the center of the cake, ready for you to scoop up and slip on and give him an excited yes and the world would clap and he’d get a Nobel prize or something for such an extravagant proposal.

Except. That doesn’t happen.

The first bite Rintaro takes, he shovels in his mouth nervously, and there’s a massive shock to his teeth when they clank down hard on the ring on his cake.

How he didn’t notice? How the waiter messed them up? He blames it on the waiter.

Him swallowing the ring..? Yeah no. That’s got him written all over it.

His nerves just got the best of him and sends the large diamond down his throat, eyes bulging out as he realizes. He chokes briefly, grabbing his wine and gulping it down to wash the jewelry down.

Uh oh.

“Baby?” You ask. “Something wrong?”

“…nope.”

The rest of dinner is silent, you trying desperately to make conversation and his mind going insane trying to process what to do next.

Your engagement ring, the object that completely envelops your love in a physical sense is floating in the acids of his stomach, and who knows what the next step in the plan is.

He dreads it.

The car ride is complete silence, you occasionally clearing your throat or sighing to try and strike a conversation, but Rin’s mind is on a complete other planet, trying to make a map of his next move and how to get the ring 1.) out of his body and 2.) to you.

Is he really going to give you a ring he ate? He can’t. That’s vile. But he can’t spend the money on another one, even if it is more than worth it to spend it on you, and-

“Rin,” you whisper, touching his thigh. “You just blew a red light.”

“Damn- I’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“Don’t be sorry… is everything alright?”

“Just fine.”

“Are you mad at me?”

His foot slams hard, hard on the breaks, causing commotion behind him as the wailing of car horns fills the air. “God, baby, no, of course not!”

“Then why have you been so quiet?” You ask sadly.

“I can’t tell you.” Out of embarrassment and stupidity, he thinks to himself.

You leave it at that. You go quiet again, and when he makes a move to rest his hand on your thigh, you turn away, and his whole heart sinks.

The rest of the ride home drags on. There’s no more attempts of noise, no more sighs or clearing of throats, only the roar of the engine for a few more miles until you get home. He barely gets the chance to park the car before you’re out and storming up the driveway, clearly upset with the situation. He sighs and follows you in, and you’ve hiked up the stairs to the bathroom. He winces at the slam of the door, and he’s quick to call osamu for advice.

Advice that the twin gives him around countless gawfs of unhelpful, judgmental laughter.

He tells Rintaro to calm down and stop being weird towards you- take a spoonful of laxatives mixed in with water and let the body “process” for as long as it needs to. Get you a new ring, trash the old one and mourn the loss of money after you two get engaged.

He sighs and ends the call, making his way to the upstairs bathroom where he keeps the medicine. You brush past him in a towel, refusing to acknowledge him or his presence with so much as a “hmph.”

The shower he takes alone is cold, his mind is loud and his heart is pounding and his stomach queases for more than a few reasons. How could he have messed this up so badly? It was supposed to be cute! Just flashy enough for him to flaunt you, but simple enough to not be messed up.

Yet he messed it up.

Rintaro dries himself and makes his way into the bedroom, where you’re already burrowed under the covers on your side of the bed. He throws on some form of pajama before making his way downstairs to make his laxative drink.

One tablespoon of laxative mixed with water, allow body to process for one day before repeating, let all powder dissolve before drinking- he follows every single one of the thorough instructions completely, and he starts to drink the concoction with a scowl of disgust.

The hell is this made out of?

“What’re you still doing up?” You ask, and he swallows the last of the laxative with a wince.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he confesses. Then, he sighs and turns to face you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know.

You’re still upset.

“Listen,” he begins, carding a massive hand through his hair. “About tonight. It was absolutely nothing you did. It was my fault, and my annoyance and attitude had nothing to do with you.”

“Okay,” you sigh, but there’s an unconvinced lilt in your voice.

“I wanted this to be a perfect night, I wanted it to go so well-“

“Rinnie?”

“And I’m sorry, about my silence in the restaurant,” he sniffles, big hands pressing against his face and rubbing roughly. “The chef was supposed to put it on our cakes and his little rat waiter messed it up, and-“

“Put what on our cakes?”

“YOUR ENGAGEMENT RING!” He groans in complete agony. “Your ring! Fuck! I tried so hard to make the perfect proposal, and I just wanted it to be beautiful-“

“My… my ring?”

“Uh…. Yeah?”

“My engagement ring?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, and he feels like he’s going to upchuck every bit of food he’s ever eaten.

Though that may not be the worst thing at this point.

“You wanna marry me?” You wail, collapsing to your knees in excitement. He perks up slightly, slipping of his seat to join you on the floor.

“Of course I want to marry you,” he confesses. “God, I’ve… I’ve wanted to marry you for the past three years, I got the ring perfect four months ago.” He blinks out a line of tears to mimic yours, and you cup his cheeks in your trembling palms. “But every time I tried to propose, something went wrong, and I… I didn’t know how to do it anymore. I’m sorry baby…”

“Rintaro,” you say softly, chuckling around the your quivering voice. “I never needed a big proposal. Ever. All I ever want is for you to promise me we’ll be together. And that’s more than enough.”

His face softens before he lets a hand smack his face in obliviousness, disappointed in himself that he got so lost in trying to impress you that he almost didn’t.

“Put it on me!” You squeal, holding out your hand. He turns a scarlet red and looks away.

“I uh… I can’t.”

You deflate slightly, and he gives you an embarrassed smile. “Why not?” You whimper, emotionally fried from the rollercoaster he just put you on.

“I don’t have it.”

“What!”

“I mean, technically i do,” he says, gnawing his lip. “But I… uhm… I can’t give it to you yet. I uh… I need a few days. And… a few cleaners to look at it.” He gives you a shy chuckle and his toothy grin is mixed with frightened eyes, and your own widen. “The uhm… the ring was on the cake…”

Your hands clasp over your mouth, tears immediately drying and replacing with small, choked and stifled laughter.

“You didn’t,” you manage. He nods, uncomfortable. “Did… did you eat my ring, Rintaro?”

“It wasn’t my fault! Damn waiter gave us the wrong cakes!”

“AND YOU SWALLOWED IT?”

“I WAS NERVOUS, OKAY?”

“RINTARO!”

You two clutch each other on the cold kitchen floor as you laugh, heads knocking against each other as you steal kisses from between cackles.

“I’ve got an idea,” he says once you’ve both seemed to calm down, and he quickly pops on his feet to grab the bread on the counter. With the twist tie, he takes it off the bread and makes his way back to you. “Give me your hands.”

The tie only fits around the top part of your ring finger, and you sniffle softly at how silly and sweet this whole thing is.

“We’re gonna get married,” he says between an emotional wheeze. “And we’re going to grow old together, have our nine dogs and four cats.”

“No kids?”

“Ew gross.”

“Yeah, sure, as if you don’t bend to my every whim bro.” You shift slightly to rest your back against his chest, curling against his still sitting frame. “And our kids are going to love the Miyas-“

“Because you love the Miya’s. I have nothing to do with that.”

“As if Osamu’s not going to be your best man,” you scoff. He smirks and buries his face in your hair, listening to your words weave through his brain and calming him down from the disaster of a night.

Then, he hums, “you want to take my last name?” He asks, and you give him a small swat on the leg. “What! Im just asking!”

“Of course I’m going to take your last name,” you say, turning your head up to face him. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Yeah?” He asks breathlessly, tearing up again when you nod.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

[lu-is-not-ok]

A Narcissistic reading of Hong Lu

Yup, I'm actually doing this.

To lay down some facts first: I have NPD, alongside a bunch of other things that coalesce into a nuclear concoction strong enough to kill every dark empath in a five mile radius. If I find you ableisting it up, I give myself the permission to smite you. This is a threat and a warning.

Now, let's talk about Hong Lu. Because as it turns out, he might just be the most difficult literacy check in Limbus Company according to what I've seen.

I could just say "I'm a narcissist and Hong Lu is just like me fr fr so he's a narcissist too" and end the post, but honestly, where's the fun in that? There are, legitimately, things I want to yap about, so I'm going to yap about them, and no chucklefucks can stop me.

So, to start this off, let's make one thing clear.

Hong Lu is not only a good actor, but also a skilled liar. The way he navigates conversations and the methods he uses are just as important to analyze as the actual words he says, if not more so. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that trying to understand him based Only on what he says and not how he uses the things he says would result in an understanding that's not only incomplete, but potentially outright wrong.

Now, this isn't really tied to why I think Hong Lu could be very reasonably read as having NPD, at least not directly. Narcissists aren't inherently evil liar manipulators, and if that's what you take away from this post, that's more of a you problem (and you can go ahead and block me considering I'm one of the evil liar manipulator narcissists according to you).

However, there is a reason why I have to bring it up. And it's because almost all of Hong Lu's narcissistic traits become a lot more obvious once you look at the exact ways he takes control of conversations.

With that out of the way, what exactly are we even looking for?

NPD, in my experience, primarily affects one's sense of self-worth and self-esteem. I personally found that the analogy of a pendulum makes the most sense to me - a narcissist's sense of self-worth can swing between massive highs and massive lows, almost never staying in a middle "balanced" position, with even the tiniest things being able to throw it to one side or another.

The ways this can present outwardly are. Quite frankly, way too fucking many to count. But there are some common threads we can keep in mind:

High sensitivity to criticism

Need for an external source of validation

Tendency to seek out ways to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful

So, does Hong Lu fit those criteria?

Well. Yeah. This post wouldn't exist if he didn't.

Let's talk about the first point, high sensitivity to criticism. And, immediately, I would like everyone to remember Hell's Chicken, specifically the scene where Meursault begins to verbally roast his team's dish, and in the process laying down a verbal smackdown on everyone involved. That scene ended like this.

Curious, isn't it? The moment Meursault was about to start criticising Hong Lu, he just jumps in and distracts Meursault with a change of topic - something even Dante's narration points out.

Mind you, this isn't an isolated event. This is just the most obvious example of Hong Lu exhibiting this kind of behavior.

Don't believe me? Just look at these.

These are all examples of Hong Lu either backpedaling, changing the subject, or otherwise trying to avoid the acknowledgement of something that criticizes his status, thought process, or (in the last example) which would reveal an emotional vulnerability.

This is a fairly consistent pattern for him, and that's not even getting into the fact that the line he says when hovering over him before a skill check he has a Very Low chance at succeeding in has him suddenly try to excuse himself and leave.

Hong Lu is absolutely highly sensitive to criticism, it's just that his primary emotional reactions aren't ones we're privy to. Instead, what we get to see is how he acts to try and minimize the impact of those criticisms, if not outright find ways to never let them leave someone's mouth in the first place.

Next up - need for external validation.

This one doesn't have as many examples as the previous point, as Hong Lu is a generally closed off person who keeps a certain level of distance from most other Sinners. However, that doesn't mean I don't have any.

One such example comes from Canto 4, where soon after acting out his part in the play, Hong Lu seeks validation from Yi Sang.

Then there's this moment in Canto 6, where Hong Lu, once again, seeks validation for something he's done.

And then there's also these lines from Hong Lu's various Identities.

Aaaand then there's these base Identity voice lines, which, if you ask me, feel a bit like fishing for compliments.

This point is a lot harder to say is a definitive one, mainly due to Hong Lu's more closed off projected personality. That being said, the fact that one can find examples of it despite that is pretty notable.

And for the final one - trying to make oneself feel more special, important, or powerful.

This is one that's a bit harder to provide exact examples for, as again, Hong Lu isn't someone who talks about how he feels often, and when he does it's not always exactly trustworthy. He's not like Rodya, who while still putting on a facade, is pretty open and easy to read about how she actually feels.

But, there's still some non-mutually exclusive interpretations I want to posit here. Two, in fact.

One - I believe that for Hong Lu, the thing he sees as power is control.

See, avoiding criticism isn't the only time Hong Lu steers conversations. In fact, it's something he does All The Time. He's often the one asking questions to get the group moving, trying to gather information that might be relevant to him, and generally taking over the direction a conversation is going in. Chances are, if Hong Lu speaks up, it's likely to alter the conversation he joins in noticeable ways.

This, I think, is one of the ways Hong Lu makes himself feel more powerful. After all, it's not that hard to guess from what little bits of his background we have that Hong Lu lacked agency for most of his life. So, wouldn't it make sense for him that having that agency, that being able to be socially in control, would be the exact kind of thing that would boost his self-esteem?

In fact, the only times we see him rendered completely speechless, seemingly stripped of that confidence in conversations he usually exhibits, are in Canto 7 - specifically in scenes where he's Not In Control of what the others are talking about. Those scenes being when the other Sinners start shit-talking Xichun in front of him, and when Xichun actively tries to bother Hong Lu by alluding to the way he's been treated back at home.

Extremely confident until something external happens that utterly strips him of that confidence... sounds familiar, doesn't it?

Then, there's the second interpretation.

See, with NPD, there are two ways a narcissist can try to make themself feel more deserving of attention. One is the one most probably think of when they think about narcissists - setting out to fulfill extremely high goals to feel amazing when one reached them and then feeling utterly crushed in the case one doesn't. This would be someone like Rodya.

However, there is also another way, one which I personally have much more experience with - to undersell. To set extremely low expectations, so that it's as hard as possible to fail reaching them, and to feel way better upon surpassing them than one would with higher, more "regular" expectations.

This, to me, is exactly the kind of narcissist Hong Lu is. Think about it. He's constantly putting out this image of an extremely sheltered person that barely understands the outside world, with notable moments where it's made clear he's Just Making Shit Up at points. Wouldn't making one seem unable to do anything, only to then proceed to do things you've led people to not expect of you, make it feel like you're much more exceptional than you really are?

The underselling goes the other way too. When the other Sinners point out something odd about Hong Lu in a more positive way, he's often quick to point out how it's Nothing compared to what his Family expected of him. Wouldn't that make one feel exceptional, to make it seem like whatever effort you're putting in to do well is but a fraction of what else you can do? That you don't even have to try to be able to be special?

...So, there. That's all the analysis and interpretation I find important to do to get my point across.

Just to make it clear, I don't think that the only thing wrong with Hong Lu is the narcissism. There's definitely a lot more shit going on in that head of his. But, I'll be honest, the NPD reading felt so obvious to me that it genuinely took me by surprise that other people don't see it.

Though... maybe I shouldn't be shocked. Some fuckers out there still think Faust is a narcissist when she's literally just autistic.

[yeagerfate]

big spoon or little spoon?

characters: miles morales (earth-1610), miguel o’hara, hobie brown, gwen stacy, pavitr prabhakar

warnings: none lol

notes: i didn’t proofread this because i’m exhausted from a bunch of irl stuff, so i’ll come check this out later and see if i need to fix anything. don’t really like how this went at all but i need something to post so oh well <3 might delete this later kinda depends. also i got my first writing request which i am very excited about hehe

Honestly, it all really depends on Miles’ mood. If he’s had a good day, then he’ll definitely be spooning you. However, if something went wrong, he will be seeking your comfort and attention. One of your most memorable moments with Miles’ was spooning him for the first time. He’d completely flunked an exam because he was out on a really dangerous mission the night before. In shambles, Miles had told you that he hadn’t slept at all and fell asleep during the test. He was really nervous to tell his parents about it because he didn’t know what his excuse would be. The last thing he wanted was for them to think he was out at some party, or just being irresponsible. He slept like a baby after you consoled him, his head resting on your chest as you ran your hand up and down his back with the other holding his head. Although it was a bittersweet moment, you enjoyed it, and the way Miles had drooled in his sleep had you trying not to wake him up from your sweet giggling.

Miguel’s in denial, but he’s a little spoon. The feeling of your hands running through his wavy hair at the end of a stressful day at work is something he’s grown addicted to. He’s a bit ashamed of it, as he thinks he should be the one holding you, but you quickly snap him out of it. Miguel finds solace in your arms, and for a couple hours it’s nice to forget about all of the emotional turmoil from work. Though, if you ever ask for it, Miguel will absolutely hold you. Sometimes, it’s nice to feel your head resting on his muscular chest and your warmth on him. In the mornings, it’s especially hard for Miguel to get up. Your arms are just so comfy and snug, and he feels like he’s at home when he’s with you. Lyla makes fun of him for it, calling him a “simp” (he doesn’t know what it means), but he doesn’t care. The way your face lights up when you feel his toned arms wrapped tightly around your face is something he’d never want to give up.

Hobie is a big spoon. He’s not big into snuggling, as he likes his personal space, but once you get into it, you get into it. (He is very affectionate with the people he cares about, though!) He’s found that the most comfortable position would be with your back against his chest and his arm wrapped around your stomach, his face hidden in your neck sweetly. It can get a little irritating, since Hobie is a big snorer. He also has a warmer body temperature, so in the summer, you’ll have to resolve to holding each other’s hands. It’s both endearing and frustrating, but it’s for Hobie, and that makes it worth it. During cuddling, the bonnet he wears tickles your neck. It’s hard to hold in the automatic laugh you have from it because he’s trying to sleep. Cuddling with Hobie is messy, fun, and enjoyable. It’s just so… Hobie.

Gwen, despite her average height, is a big spoon. She likes the feeling of being able to just hold and protect you. Gwen has lost so much, and so she feels she has to make sure you’re safe at all times. One of the way she does this is by holding you close to her her neck, your head resting on her shoulder as she runs her hands down your back. It doesn’t matter how tall you are. Even if you’re a foot taller than her, you’ll still be held by her. However, Gwen occasionally has nightmares, and so when she wakes up she’d like to be embraced by you. When she has her head pressed against you chest, and she can hear the sound of your heartbeat, it really makes her feel better. It reassures her panicking brain that you’re alive, you’re here, and you’re fine. It’s a soothing feeling, one that’s hard to describe. All she knows is that she really treasures it.

Pavitr is very enthusiastic about all types of physical affection, and that includes cuddling. He is a big spoon, though he doesn’t mind trading places at all. While you’re cuddling, he loves to tell you about how his day went. If you know that he’s spider-man, he’ll tell you all about the adventures he went on with his friends. Sometimes, he’ll even rant about Miguel, which is very amusing. However, if you don’t know that he’s spider-man, Pavitr will take a much different approach. Instead, he’ll ask you to tell him about your day. He asks you if you saw anything you liked at the stores nearby, or if you tried any new food. He likes to take note of these revelations because they make for great gifts. Pavitr is a very talkative cuddler, but on tiring days, he’ll be out like a light after 5 minutes. It all depends on how his day went.

[luvjunie]

— headcanons. what life is like for miles!42

a/n: i honestly didn’t mean for these to get so angsty oopsies!! i kept adding on so they’re also very lengthy wc: 1,751

contains: mentions of grief

Everyone thinks he’s rude and impossible to approach—but that’s a common misconception. In reality, he’s actually quite shy and simply prefers to keep to himself. His quiet nature often causes him to come off ill-mannered, which is completely unintentional on his end and partially the fault of those who assume what he’s like instead of actually getting to know him.

He used to be open to making friends and spending time with peers, but after everyone found out his dad died— which was impossible to prevent considering the man who used to drive him to school now had a giant mural made in his honor— he began receiving a ridiculous amount of pitied stares in the halls, began hearing hushed whispers about how hard things must be for him at home now. And even though they were, he hated that he was being treated differently by those he once kept close to him, like a charity case. As if he were fragile and would break— like he often did when he was alone.

His old friends were supposed to be his distraction, something to take his mind off how he now had to grow up faster than he’d liked. Something to remind him that his trauma hadn’t aged him as much as he feared; that he truly was still a kid at heart. But instead, they served as a constant reminder of the worst thing he’d ever had to live through— skated around him like he’d blow up the second they said the wrong thing; responded with heartfelt condolences instead of laughing with him whenever he’d tell a funny story about his dad. So eventually, he drifted away from them and began keeping to himself all together.

Don’t put him in a box because of his prowler side hustle, this boy is smart as hell!! Especially with one parent now being gone and his mom struggling to pay the bills? He takes his academics very seriously, he has no choice. He has to get it out the mud somehow and he doesn’t have the privilege of skipping classes as much as 1610-miles does. He’s working two years above his grade level in AP Calculus and AP physics, and has been accused of cheating on his tests a couple times due to how fast he completes them, as well as the fact that he has never once asked a question from the seat he chose in the back of the room.

It’s not something anyone would expect, but he enjoys baking a lot and he’s damn good at it too. When he was younger, he’d spent one summer with his Mamá Lena (Rio’s mother), who had him in the kitchen helping her cook and bake almost everyday and it just stuck. It’s a secret talent of his that never really comes up in conversation, and that you wouldn’t know about unless you’ve seen him doing it. His banana bread muffins using a recipe he took months to perfect taste like the gods themselves made them, and he’ll slip one into his mom’s work lunch whenever he makes them because he knows they’re her favorite.

He’s a lover boy at heart, if you were to look into his playlist, the songs you’d find in there probably wouldn’t be what you’d expect. Listens to bobby bland, which was heavily influenced by his uncle, old school rap, and he really likes love songs from the 90s because they make him feel calm, and allow him to imagine what his life would be like if he could have something like what they’re singing about. He’s terrified he’ll never be able to experience that due to his inability to open up to others. And often, he doesn’t even try to express the emotions that are tough to swallow, a firm believer in the saying that ‘once you’re down, it’s hard to get back up.’

Keeps his room pretty clean. It’s probably the one and only thing he has control over in his life, a constant for him. His room is his safe-haven so he treats it as such. It’s basically the same as 1610’s, just with a more matured look, a lot less color and less expression. He unfortunately lost that spark for a lot of his interests, so you won’t see more than a small punching bag, some boxing gloves hanging from the doorknob and few stragglers in the form of posters he didn’t feel like taking down.

He doesn’t like to argue, at all. He hates fighting with anyone he loves and he’s very quick to forgive them or squash the disagreement all together now that his dad is no longer here. When Jeff died, they were still on rocky terms from their previous dispute and even while years have passed, Miles still has yet to forgive himself for that. So now, he usually lets bygones be bygones, and never lets a conversation end on a bad note.

Continued growing his hair out once he realized it was a way for him to bond and spend more time with his mom. Within the little availability they do have, between her working doubles at the hospital, him being pulled in every direction now that he’s the ‘man of the house’—uncle Aaron’s words— and having to do things he’s not proud of to assist her while still going to school during the day, they make the time. Miles only gets it braided by her, and he enjoys the talks they have when he’s sat on the floor between her legs with his back to her. And when she’s done, regardless of how ridiculously embarrassing it is, and how he’s now over a head taller than her, he always lets her pinch his cheeks and call him her ‘handsome little man’. He hasn’t looked at a pair of hair shears since.

On that note, he is very, very defensive when it comes to his mother. Miles is not the kind to go around beating people up just for kicks; mostly because he’s not that kind of person, but also because even if he wanted to— he can’t.

In preparation for stepping into the prowler role Uncle Aaron put Miles into boxing/m.m.a classes when he turned fourteen, and he took to the skill very quickly. So well, in fact, that his hands can now technically be considered deadly weapons in the eye of the law due to his extensive training— which means he could get slapped with a ridiculous assault charge that would have him doing some time in a juvenile correction facility over a simple fist fight. (if he’s not masked as the prowler obviously).

But, some kid in his history class thought it’d be funny to make a slick comment about how Mrs. Morales was ‘single’ and ‘up for grabs’ now that his dad had passed, and the situation ended with Miles suspended for a week after he’d basically thrown his desk over to get to the kid, his knuckles bruised, and a tirade of complaints from the boy’s mother about his now-rearranged nose. However, after hearing the disgusting comment he had made about Miles’ mom, she was kind enough to not press charges and forced her son to apologize to the both of them.

That woman is his saving grace, literally. She stepped up in ways he didn’t even know were possible after his dad died, barely taking time for herself to grieve because she wanted to make sure her little boy didn’t fall apart. He doesn’t let anyone disrespect her and that’s always made known by him. He’s a mama’s boy.

They kind of have a titfortat thing going on, him and his mom. Like how she always stops in to ask him how his day was, if school is going well or if he needs anything, even if the time isn’t ideal and she’s talking to a sleepy Miles at 1am in the morning who can barely keep his eyes open. Or how his uniform is always freshly ironed and laid out for him in the morning, regardless of how exhausted she is and how badly she wants to crawl into bed after her shift. Or how when he’s sick, she’ll drive all the way across town to one of the only fresh markets that sells yuca root and white yautia so she can make him sancocho (a traditional puerto rican dish). It’s the one thing she knows always makes him feel better.

And Miles does nice things for her, too. Like draping a blanket over her sleeping form when she dozes off on the couch in front of the TV. Or making sure her phone is plugged in, so her alarm goes off in the morning, because sometimes she knocks out before she can bring herself to do it. He even goes as far as to secretly slip some extra cash he’s made from a recent job into the ‘RENT’ jar she keeps on her dresser— dropping a hundred in every now and then when she’s not there to see him do it. She’s never once asked him for help, but the one time he took it upon himself to offer it, he was shot down in seconds, and was made to promise her that he wouldn’t worry about it ever again. Her exact words being “You’re too young to worry about something like this mijo, okay? You take all the money you make from your after school job, every single penny, and you save it. Mama’s got this.”

But sometimes, she doesn’t. And Miles knows that she wants to be strong for him. For them. But it takes two, he knows that as well, so he helps out anyway.

And with prayers that they’re not short— Rio counts everything in the rent jar towards the end of the month, and a string of celebratory whoops and hollers will always sound from her room when she realizes they surprisingly have some extra cash that’ll allow her to take some days off and relax for once, and maybe even do something fun together. He’ll listen from his room with a knowing smile, more than happy to let his contributions remain undisclosed to affirm her efforts of providing for them the best she can. With her energy so depleted from how demanding her job is, she’s never suspected it was him discreetly assisting, and chalked it up to her forgetting how much she’d mindlessly dropped in there after each paycheck.

[archangeldyke-all]

Something with like cellmate prisoner!sevika?! 😭😭😭 idk I just think like her being all dangerous and powerful, having a shit ton of friends but like selectively, no one messing with her maybe even hating how just mean she is. And then comes in reader and yk. I’d love if the story was smutty but u can chose ofc 🫦

i love this so much

men and minors dni

living in zaun is shit. but the one thing that's always kept you and a majority of your fellow citizens in line, was the ever-looming presence of stillwater prison just a few miles away. you've watched countless people enter those prison walls. you know very few who ever came back out.

and now, through a series of unfortunate events that lead to you assaulting an undercover enforcer, you're going to find out first hand just how horrible stillwater really is.

you don't think you've ever been so nervous in your life as the enforcer guides you-- restrained and already hating the itchy fabric of your new life-long uniform--down a long, long hall of cells.

he's chewing a wad of bubblegum, casually, like you aren't about to piss yourself with nerves. "listen kid." he says, looking you up and down. "i read your file. seems like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time." he says, shrugging. "no prior arrests, clean record-- honestly i'm surprised they sent you here, but i guess you did break marcus' nose." the enforcer chuckles here.

"you know that asshole?" you ask. the man guiding you snorts.

"'s my boss." he mumbles. beside you, a prisoner lunges at the bars of their cell, screaming at you. you jump, and the guard laughs. "as i was sayin'-- you seem like a real peach. like you'd be a good influence on some of our... rougher prisoners." he mumbles.

dread starts to curl in your stomach. you have a pretty good idea of where this conversation is headed, and you don't like the outcome. you just hope you aren't cellmates with someone real bad: like genie the counter-fitter who got caught two years ago; esmee the weapons expert who successfully set an entire square block of piltover's wealthiest neighborhood ablaze; or, god forbid, sevika.

she'd been caught just weeks ago, smuggling an entire airship's worth of shimmer into piltover's loading docks. it was big fucking news.

sevika's a big fucking deal.

and you want absolutely nothing to do with her.

which is why, of course, the guard pulls you to a stop right outside of the only cell with a light on, the low, dim glow of a reading lamp and the quick flickering light of a lighter. you feel like you're gonna barf.

sitting in the shadows of the cell, puffing on a hand-rolled cigarette, sits sevika, silco's second in command.

if he's the eye of zaun, she's the arm. he might be watching-- but she's doing. she's nothing but bad news; everything you've tried your best to avoid while living in the undercity.

well, look how well that turned out for you.

"sevika, meet your new cellmate." the enforcer calls out. a pair of silver eyes snap up from her book and lock on yours. you shiver.

"fucks' wrong with her?" she mumbles. you gulp.

"nervous, i'd assume. 's her first-offense." the guard says. he shoves you into the cell and you jump as the bars slam shut behind you. "you ladies have fun." he says, before turning and walking away, the smacks of his gum echoing behind him.

sevika inspects you from her chair.

"how'd you fuck up so bad you ended up in a cell with me from your first offense?" she asks, seemingly intrigued.

"punched an undercover enforcer." you whisper. sevika's eyebrow hitches up, a little amused.

"yeah?"

"think his name was marcus, or something." you mumble. she sputters.

"ha! really!?" she asks, a little smile growing on her face. you nod. she takes a drag off her cigarette, then points at the bunk beds. "i get bottom. don't go thinkin' 'cause we're cellmates it means you get to touch my shit. i got people outside pullin' big favors for met to get shit like this." she gestures to her cigarettes and lamp. you nod. "don't look so nervous. i won't bite unless you piss me off."

you try to stop shivering. you don't succeed. "s-sorry."

she studies you for a moment, her smile growing as she does. though she's no longer armed with shimmer, her arm's still in perfect working condition, five little daggers gently tapping on the table top as her eyes dart across you. "you from the lanes?" she asks. you nod. she snorts. "you know who i am?" she asks. you nod again. she chuckles, then stands. she approaches you, circling around you like you're prey, then chuckling and leaning back against the table, crossing her arms over her chest. "you scared'a me?" she asks.

"shouldn't i be?" you choke out.

it seems to be the right answer. sevika laughs, then sits back down at her table, picking her book back up, chuckling intermittently for minutes after.

she's not a bad roommate. she's surprisingly tidy, always quiet, her nose usually buried in a book. she smokes like a fucking chimney, and you've come to find she gets her tobacco-- and sometimes a bit of weed-- from one of the guards every tuesday night.

she's got special privileges among most of the guards. they're always sneaking her books and flasks, letting her get away without cell-searches, letting her read past lights out and have lighters and screwdrivers and other dangerous, weapon-like tools.

you, on the other hand, do not have these privileges. and, keeping in line with sevika's one and only rule, you don't touch her shit. all of this means that while sevika smokes and works on her arm and reads and works out, you spend your time just... sitting on the top bunk. watching her.

sometimes, during open cell time, she gets visitors. you're surprised that none of these visits end in shady dealings-- sevika doesn't seem to need to trade her stash of goods for anything. most of her visits are quick, and most end the same way: a small scrap of paper being shoved in sevika's hand.

she burns the scraps after she reads whatever's on them.

she's... pleasant, sometimes. it's rare, but it happens. one day, you'd forgotten to make your bed before you went to breakfast. you returned to find it neatly made, and when you thanked her for helping you avoid trouble with the guards, she had just waved it off. "don' get used to it. i won't always be here to fix your mistakes."

once, a fight broke out while you were in the showers. you were sent back to your cell soaking wet-- your hair still lathered in shampoo. she had chuckled, called you a "wet rat", and helped you rinse your hair out in the tiny sink in your cell.

and... she's kinda pretty. it occurred to you one evening while the two of you were partaking in your nightly routine: sevika reading in her chair while you study her, pretending to sleep. she'd glanced up at you and whispered. "why're you always lookin' at me?"

you shrugged, then nearly choked on your tongue when 'you're pretty' almost slipped out of your mouth. "uh... i got nothing else to look at." you'd ended up saying. she seemed to accept this.

"you don't have any prison girlfriends?" you ask. sevika's in a particularly jovial mood today: the note she'd been delivered earlier in the afternoon must've had great news. she's decided to share her joint with you. the question slipped out the second you took your first puff-- your tolerance astronomically low from being without for so long.

sevika laughs. "nah."

"but..." you cut yourself off before you get yourself in trouble, biting your lip. sevika chuckles, then nudges your leg.

"y' can say it." she says. you smile at her, then speak.

"it's just... i had a few friends who work at babette's." you say. "i figured you'd have as much of a reputation here as you do there."

she takes a second, tilting her neck side to side as it cracks, then sighing. "i got shit to do in here." she says simply. you raise an eyebrow at her, biting your lip again, and she chuckles. "say it." she demands again.

"you just read all day." you laugh. sevika nods.

"i'm... working." she says. you just nod along, pretending you understand what she's alluding to.

it happens in the strangest way but you and sevika start to become... friends.

she sits alone at lunch, and you sit alone too, on the oppisite side of the cafeteria. but you're so used to looking at sevika, that you find yourself watching her even when there are much more entertaining things to look at, like the handful of fights that break out every meal.

you notice she loves the jello cups you guys get once a week. so you pocket yours and toss it at her later that night. the way she smiles lights up the room even brighter than her tiny lamp. you make it a habit.

she starts loaning you her books, finds you a crate to sit on by her table while you guys read together at night.

and when sevika gets jumped in the middle of the night-- you don't even question it before you jump out of your bunk, grab sevika's screwdriver where she left it on the table, and start swinging in the dark, blindly.

"what the fuck?" someone squawks when you manage to stab something in the dark.

"what?" sevika whispers in the dark.

"sevika, your bunkmate fucking stabbed me!" her attacker's voice rings out.

a light flicks on. you cringe at the sudden brightness, then blink in confusion as sevika and a guard with a screwdriver sticking out of their shoulder stare at you.

sevika's grinning. the guard is scowling. you hold your hands up in shaky fists, preparing for a fight. sevika chuckles.

"relax, sweetheart." she says, swinging her arm around you and tugging you into her side. "ran's a friend." she whispers into your ear. you blink at the bleeding guard, then back at sevika.

"so, what, we're taking your girlfriend with us now?" the guard-- ran-- asks. sevika looks at her friend, then looks at you, a calculating look in her eye. she smirks, shrugs, then looks back at the guard.

"she threw herself between me and a uniform-- can't just throw that kinda loyalty out, now can i?" she asks, smiling.

you don't know what's happening. you're about to ask-- when suddenly you black out.

the first thing that comes back to you is your sense of hearing.

voices.

"sevika, fuck, you can't just throw a wrench in the plan like this--"

"i can do whatever the fuck i want--"

"on the night of the breakout?! no heads up!?"

"do i need to remind you which one of us is second in command, here?!"

"...fuck. c'mon, help me load her in the van."

the next thing is your sense of touch. you're laying on the rumbling cold steel of a van floor-- currently in motion.

you're shivering, but then something warm and wool and smelling like cigars is draped over you.

you're head keeps bumping uncomfortably with every crack in the road. someone gently picks your head up and puts it in their warm nap, a hand coming down to scratch your scalp.

your voice comes next. "mmmh?"

"it's okay." sevika's voice comes. you groan, cracking your eyes open, only for her face to be grinning down at you. "fuckin' maniac." she giggles.

"wha?" you groan. you're seeing double, your head is pounding.

"ran knocked you out. 's what you get for stabbin' 'em." sevika chuckles. "but, you're lucky, 'cause they don't hold a grudge. they helped me lug your ass outta stillwater."

"wha?!" you ask again, snapping up. sevika laughs as you look out the front window of the van-- the depths of piltover surrounding you as you head, presumebly, to the last drop.

you recognize the man driving-- a tall, muscular, tattooed man who'd recently been added to your cell block's guard rotation. in the passengers' seat sits the guard you'd stabbed-- bandaged and watching you with amusement.

"wha's happenin'?" you mumble, looking back at your cellmate as you clutch a hand to your throbbing head. you've been shrouded in a red cloak-- sevika's already out of her prison uniform and back in her 'second in command' look. she smirks at you.

"y' really think i was jus' sittin' around, servin' my time?" she asks. you shrug.

"figured somethin' was goin' on. y' kept gettin' those notes. didn't wanna ask." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"well, you shoulda. or i shoulda warned you, so you didn't try killing my crew." she chuckles. you blink over to the person in the passengers' seat, cringing.

"s-sorry." you mumble. they wave it off.

"'s cool. knocked you right the fuck out, didn't i?" they chuckle. "we're even."

you turn back to sevika. "you broke me out of prison?" you ask. she shrugs.

"'re you mad about it?" she asks. you gawk at her.

"uh... just... a little surprised?"

sevika cackles. you smile at the sound, despite your headache. "i wasn't plannin' on it! then you started givin' me your jello, 'n readin' all my books, 'n..."

"she's got a crush on you." ran fills in from the front.

"i didn't say that!" she shouts.

"she's not denying it though--" the man driving teases.

you choke on your spit. sevika huffs, rolls her eyes, and speaks. "i... i kinda got a crush on you, yeah." she mumbles. "and i swear i'm not sayin' this jus' 'cause i think you're cute but: you should really stay with us at the last drop until things calm back down, since, y'know... you're kinda wanted now..." she says, rubbing the back of her neck.

you blink... shocked.

you don't really know what to think. you tried your whole life to stay out of trouble, and it managed to find you anyways in the form of a drunken under-cover enforcer deciding to smack your ass when you'd had too many drinks to hold your punches. you tried to stay out of trouble in stillwater until you were saddled with sevika. you tried to stay out of trouble with her until she dragged you-- literally, you were unconscious!-- out of prison along with her. it seems like trouble's meant for you.

but if there's one thing you're certain of, it's sevika.

you smile at her, then reach up to cup her cheek. she looks more nervous than you've seen her in all your months in stillwater together.

"you gotta crush on me?" you ask. she gulps.

"i'd say it's a little more than a crush seeing she broke you outta stillwater as your first date--"

"ran!" sevika hollers. you chuckle.

"is this our first date?" you ask, raising your eyebrow at her. she shrugs.

"it's... jus' don't expect the next dates to be this exciting." she chuckles, rolling her eyes. you grin, then dart forward and press a kiss to her lips. when you pull away, she's wearing that same nervous look again.

"you okay?" you whisper. she licks her lips, nuzzles a bit against your hand on her face, and nods.

"'m just kickin' myself for not puttin' the moves on you sooner. coulda been fuckin' you to pass the time in prison instead of readin' all those boring books." she mumbles. you burst into laughter, and she grins.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆Without Me｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ 

☆Cw: no use of y/n, mention of possessiveness, no pronouns for reader

"Would you get remarried if I died first?"

The question came out of nowhere, at least for Shouta. Honestly, one moment you're sharing a domestic mutual silence, and the next you're practically giving him a heart attack. He knows on your end the question had probably been rolling around in that head of yours for a while, and you would think with how often you blurt random things like this he would get used to it.

The hand he was using to grade his students papers awkwardly jerks down the paper, leaving a thin line of pen down the whole worksheet. He doesn't have it in him to give much attention to the mistake, his brain flying a mile a minute to process what you asked him. He doesn't even look up at you for a few moments. His eyes are glazed over, seemingly in deep thought, but knowing him it's something more surface level and obvious.

"That wouldn't happen." Shouta says definitively.

"But if it did-"

"It wouldn't."

There's a tick in Shouta's damaged eye, a compulsion he hasn't been able to shake off since getting the scar under it. The twitching alerts you to the genuine frustration your question causes him, and with him being a prohero you can kind of understand why, but you want an answer. Whether there's a right or wrong one is yet to be seen, but you can't drop the conversation without letting your curiosity be satiated.

A heavy silence lingers. Shouta fills it with a world wary sigh before turning back to his papers. He clearly assumes the subject will be dropped, he should know you better by now.

"I'd want you to remarry, or at least find love again." You murmur. "I wouldn't want you to be lonely without me."

Shouta doesn't reply, but his hand is still. There's no grading or absent minded scribbling. Even with his eyes on his papers his focus is still on you.

"What about me, would you want me to remarry?"

He grimaces. You laugh at his disgusted face.

"I have mixed feelings."

Shouta doesn't elaborate and you nod, understanding him. You understand he wants the best for you, and you also understand that he hates the thought of you with someone else. Shouta will deny that he's a possessive man till the day he dies, he somehow genuinely believes his amount of control freak is normal and healthy.

You gave up on this argument a long time ago to save your sanity. It's probably for the best.

"I don't want you to be alone but..." He closes his eyes and tilts his head back, his nose ever so slightly scrunched under the hand running over his face. You've become well acquainted with Shouta's Deep Thoughts Look™ over the years, it's not hard to stay quiet and let him sort through his brain. "You can marry Hizashi, or Nemuri."

You snort.

"You may not under any circumstances marry Vlad. If you love me at least a little bit you won't even think about falling in love with him."

You cover your laugh with a cough, doing your best to take your husband seriously.

"Wow Shou, that's two whole options, that's quite generous of you."

He glares, eyes flashing red for just a second before he closes them again. He doesn't even bother to dignify you with a response.

"I'll make sure to let Hizashi know that he's my God husband, and Nemuri that she's my God wife."

Shouta groans, now placing both hands on his face.

"Uhg. Please don't."

Thinking about erasermic/you poly relationship. It's somewhere on the horizon as well as some stuff with prohero!Deku, mystic messenger stuff, and some OCs... Hmm I also have an idea for Dabi. Maybe lemme know which one you want to see first so I know what to prioritize

Oh, Navigation post coming soon as well, just working out a few kinks

｡⁠☆Requests open

[kqizen]

jealousy ☆ | ! kqizen

jealous jjk men <3

(ft. gojo, geto, megumi, & yuji)

—

gojo satoru:

—

you must’ve messed up bad if satoru is jealous, because it takes a lot to crack him. when he does, all hell breaks loose. yes, he 100% gives you the silent treatment. satoru is aware of how much you hate it, so he thinks it’s the perfect opportunity to teach you a lesson

he’s unbelievably annoying when he’s jealous, but that’s one of his many tactics to make sure you never mess up again. this man will stare at you with those cerulean, puppy-eyes for hours on end until he gets your undivided attention

when you inevitably crack and shower him with affection, he’ll subtly seek your validation. satoru will shamelessly makes jabs at whoever he’s jealous of, and it annoys you to no end. of course, if you defend the other guy, he’ll definitely hold that against you. there’s no way of winning with satoru, and so the easiest way to put an end to his jealous wrath is some alone time with him. satoru loves you more than he’s willing to admit, so you taking initiative to spend time with him means a lot

extra details:

-> he’ll never admit to being jealous, even if it sabotages the hope of a quicker, easier makeup between you two. he would rather play it off as him keeping you in check/safe from other guys

-> calls up his friends for advice (usually shoko or utahime, who he thinks will understand you better)

-> has definitely tried once or twice to make you jealous in return. he gets frustrated when his attempts fail, which they usually do

-> ends up cuddling you for hours after you two makeup. he looks like a puppy curled up in your arms, yet he’ll somehow spin it like you’re the pathetic one begging for attention. you have to admit though, he looks adorable

—

geto suguru:

—

you really don’t have to worry about losing him over these misunderstandings, since suguru is literally infatuated with you. in essence, he would never withdraw from you even if he’s jealous. he would deny being jealous, just like satoru. however, he does it for your sake. he does it to calm your nerves, making sure you don’t end up overthinking

it honestly depends on the severity of the situation, but he might go the extra mile to keep tabs on you. suguru doesn’t see anything wrong with it, despite how possessive it makes him look. if you don’t pick up his calls, he’ll ring up every last soul in your family tree

at the end of the day, suguru is still human, and so he overthinks despite himself. he might appear unbothered, but there’s a war going on inside him when he’s jealous. if the feeling is unbearable, suguru has no problem talking to you. a quick conversation is enough to ease his mind

extra details:

-> will randomly pull you in for a kiss when you talk about his feelings. kissing you is a stress reliever for him

-> has a habit of laughing off his feelings, downplaying them. he thinks he’s being childish/irrational when he’s jealous

-> wraps his arm around your waist nonchalantly, whenever you two run into the guy he’s jealous of

—

megumi fushiguro:

—

this man is such a cutie when he’s jealous, and you can’t help but laugh at him. megumi hates it when you do, of course, denying it every time you bring it up. it’s a hill he’s willing to die on, trying to prove that he isn’t actually jealous. his usual excuse is that he’s too busy to care, but you know deep down that he’s never too busy for you

megumi acts relatively normal when he’s jealous, though he does smile/laugh less when there’s something on his mind. he’ll never blame you for his feelings/make you feel bad about them, which is why he’s usually bottling up his emotions. megumi still makes it a point to treat you like a princess, even when he’s feeling down

he’s way too shy to initiate a conversation about something of this nature, so you’re usually the one stuck with that job. two sentences in, and he’s already blushing like crazy. he ends up ranting about how he isn’t mad at you or actually jealous, but rather just wants to talk. you have to suppress your giggles, telling him that his feelings are valid. the two of you end up cuddling, and he makes you play with his hair. honestly? a quick, romantic/intimate session with megumi would calm him down (he rarely admits to how much he needs it)

extra details:

-> stares at you extra when he’s jealous, only to snap his head away when you move. he ends up blushing like crazy, and ends up feeling a little needy

-> confides in yuji when the jealousy starts to really affect his mood. he instantly regrets it when yuji starts to tease him about it

-> gets really clingy/possessive. he knows he’s never like that, and the drastic change in his behavior frustrates him

-> megumi will distance himself if he thinks he’s being annoying, or until he’s ready to talk

—

itadori yuji:

—

yuji gets jealous quite often, but it’s hard to tell when he is or isn’t. in fact, he has trouble identifying his own feelings. he tries not to take it too seriously, but he fails miserably. yuji gets so dramatic when he gives into his emotions. he’ll pout in your face, clinging onto you until you crack. he needs constant reassurance, bombarding you with leading questions that will serve as a confidence booster for him

he has a tendency to overthink when he’s alone with his thoughts. he genuinely thinks the two of you are soulmates, and so he gets confused whenever something like this comes up. you adore him, and he knows it. that’s the only thing keeping him from excessively doubting himself

we all know how much of a sweetheart yuji is, so he remains respectful towards whoever he’s jealous of. yet behind closed doors, he can’t help but make a few jabs. they’re never mean, but you can tell that he’s getting a little worked up. he’s easy to calm, and you’ve learned to just give him hugs and kisses. it works like a charm, and it feels like nothing ever happened

extra details:

-> he sees his jealousy as a sign that he’s all grown up. it gives him a sense of responsibility, and that responsibility is taking care of you

-> sarts telling everyone he knows that he’s your boyfriend, just in case they misunderstand/think otherwise

-> he sends you flowers on a regular basis, but do expect a whole garden of them when he’s jealous. yuji wants to make sure you never forget about him

-> will definitely nag you to post about him on your social media. he wants everyone to know that he’s yours

[destinationtrekk]

Okay so... this idea has been cowering in my mind for awhile now..

You work for Wesker and have like a bad day at work or whatever, like he fusses at you or something (also you've got a crush on him because who doesn't cough cough)

you go home and you've been kicked out (either roommate or partner or whatever) and the only place you can go is like really far or something and it's started raining but apparently you live like near him somewhat so he opens the door and you're just standing there drenched, needing a place to stay

id love to know how he'd react or what he'd do 👉👈

umbrella wesker for this... all employees have to live x miles from the facility or something for emergencies idk

anyway lets say your day was fucking awful. i mean nothing was going right, multiple projects on hold or even cancelled because just... everything is wrong. wesker knows how research goes, sometimes things just don't work out, but it doesn't stop him being pissy too. he takes it out on you because you work closest with him, and his harsh attitude is enough to make you tear up on the drive home.

when you go home to a complete shock of your partner ending things, of course you realize the place in in their name. you have enough time to pack a bag until you can come back for the rest of your things and... great. now it's raining

you have no where to go without calling out of work for a few days, which is just not an option, period. you've been to wesker's house once to drop off a few files but, you have no other choice. the facility is in the middle of no where, you can't just get a hotel or sleep in your car, you're fucked. you have to risk asking him for help.

you're drenched when he opens the door, looking like a truly pathetic lost puppy, and he just stares as you sputter through excuses to explain what you're doing at his house. you're shivering and leaving a puddle on his welcome mat so he rolls his eyes and invites you in.

he makes you stand in place while he goes to get you a towel, and surprisingly comes back with a dry shirt and sweatpants too. he doesn't say anything about it, just points you to the restroom and wanders off.

you come back out somewhat dry and in comfy clothes, expecting him to... honestly you weren't even sure you'd get this far. he doesn't ask you to explain or justify why you're suddenly without a place to stay, which unnerves you a little. wesker is not the kind of man to bitch at someone all day and then accept them into his home and into his clothes without question. he washes your sopping wet clothes for you and you spend the night on his ridiculously comfortable couch. you leave in the morning before the sun rises, clocking into work hours early just to avoid an awkward morning with wesker, though you know he heard you leave.

the next day, work is marginally better, despite your awful mood and severe anxiety over what you'll do tonight. it's only wednesday, and you need a plan until the weekend. all of your half-assed plans are cut short when wesker finds you just as your shift is ending.

"leaving so soon? i thought you'd be more eager to work a double, considering how early you got here." he's got an eyebrow raised above his stupid ass sunglasses and he cuts off your sputtering with a raised hand.

"I have...meetings to attend tonight. the back door will be open, if you...need it." his expression is tense, but you hear the genuine meaning behind his words. he walks away and leaves you mouth agape in your lab. guess you have a place to stay after all.

[starsomens]

Omg hi!!! I saw your requests are open and I got excited, do think you think you could do headcanons on what would noah be like as a boyfriend?? Have a lovely day/night💕

Disclaimer❗️: THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!!! Please do NOT take this literally or spread false information, this is a work of what my thoughts on this topic is!!

Note: hello (: hope you enjoy

For me I see him as someone very dominant, but also soft about it!

It’ll be like, say someone who was clearly into you sits next to you a hit too close he’d probably tell/ask you to switch seats because he knows it’s for the better good in the situation

A hoodie boyfriend for sure!

Will complain about you taking them but loves seeing you wear them

Will either game with you or have some kinda of physical touch on you on you while he games. So you feet in his lap or sitting in his lap. Once he sees you’re asleep he’ll quiet down or just get off game completely and just get you to bed

He has a habit when he’s writing songs. Hell do it around you and look to you for visual inspiration. Describing physical appearances that being in lyrics to him

“What are you smiling about?” You would ask

“Oh nothing” he’d always response and just finish a lyric . And if it’s not included in music he’ll just keep them in a notebook (:

Will definitely have some kind of gesture he does while on stage when he knows your watching. Might a hand gesture, or a word, something that is significant to you that he’ll do on stage. A way of tributing his work to you 

Big on forehead kisses!

Despite what google says I KNOW this man is a good 6-6’3. I’m 4’12 and I can tell a 6 footer a mile away. Hence, with that height he loves to kiss the mom first contact of skin your forehead or even the top of your head

Either just some pecks on your head or he’ll tilt your head up more towards him so he can plant a good on with lots of emotion and love

If he’s out in another state or even country touring and feels lonely, will email you a plane ticket for you to get there

“Noah why do I have a flight booked for tomorrow at 6 am?”

“….I won’t have my morning wake up WIRH you”

Honestly would hate the start of a tour because it meant saying goodbye to you (sometimes!) the last one to get in the flight/tour bus because he’s saying goodbye to you

I can picture him to be someone who’s like clingy with you, but more when he knows he won’t see you for a while.

GETS GIDDY AND EXCITED WHEN YKU SURPRISE HIM AT CONCERTS

Afterwards he’s just all smiles

Would definitely let you do make up on him and criticize it afterwards 💀

“The eyeliner isn’t even”

“What?? Yes it is you’re looking at it wrong”

“NUH UH-“ I’m sorry

Will wear matching animal ear headbands to do skincare with you .

100000% you’re the FIRST person outside of the band to hear a song when it’s complete. And takes your comments to better his music

Pet names: babe, baby, princess, sweet

For some reason he says stink for cringy/joke

Let’s your paint his nails (:

Will tease you to no end! He knows how much of an effect he has on you and will use it to his advantage. If he’s in his tank top around the house he’ll do the doorframe lean and just stare at you with a smirk and he LOVES seeing you get flustered

I think he also LOVES when you do his hair. So buns, just brushing it, braiding it, just anything from you to his hair

Will secretly try and match your closet so you can be a cute matching couple. But won’t say it as if he planned it

“Oh look we’re matching! Cool!” And just keep on with his day

Jolly is defiantly one to tease him about how much he loves you. And he’ll do it at least twice a day if he sees you

“He always wants to be the cool, and tough guy, but we all know he’s head over heels for you”

Or he’ll tell you how he smiled at his phone today cuz you were calling him

I think he may be the type to have a symbolic tattoo on him for you if it was a very solid and long term relationship

Over all a 1000/10 boyfriend :)

「✨taglist✨」 -

[ghosts-bandwagon]

I love your writings so much!! I just read the hcs about touching then as a comfort thing, and I wanna be *that* person and ask how they'd react to their s/o leaning away from their touch as a joke or to gauge their reaction 🤭

They’re referencing this post!

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Please don’t do that to him :(

He starts panicking internally, worried that he did something to upset you and even more upset that you’re not telling him what he did

His mind is going a mile a minute to try to remember what he did to upset you, if he might’ve reacted a certain way to make you feel like you can’t tell him

He’s so butthurt when you tell him it was a joke, he’s ignoring you for the rest of the day. At least until you throw yourself at him the first chance you get, then maybe he’ll forgive you.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

Immediately asks what’s wrong

If you tell him it’s nothing but then continue to duck away from him he gets so pouty about it and it won’t just be with you, he’s pouting and complaining to everyone who’ll listen

Ghost is making eye contact with you across the room like ‘fix it. now.’

And when you tell the poor Scot that it was a joke and you’re hugging him again, he’ll laugh along and say he knew it the whole time.

John Price:

He’s confused but won’t push answers out of you, so if he asks what’s going on and you tell him it’s nothing, he’ll leave it at that. Even if you’re still stepping away from his touch, he won’t press the matter, he trusts you to sort it out

And when you cave and tell him that you were just curious to see how he’d react, he’d chuckle “did I pass your test then?” And he’d give your lips a little peck

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’s confused at first but quickly realizes you’re messing around and does it right back at you

It becomes a game honestly, you’re ducking away from each other, practically stepping to the other side of the room just to dramatically avoid touching one another

Eventually at the end of the day, he’s checking in to see if you’re done messing around and pull you into a tight hug with a kiss to the crown of your head

König:

Like Ghost, he starts panicking except he’s more vocal about it than he is. He’s asking you what’s wrong and what happened and he’s not taking ‘nothing’ for an answer

I don’t think you’ll be able to get away with the joke for very long because he’s so insistent on know what’s wrong

And when you explain that you were just messing around he’s like haha ok but why? Just give him a bunch of kisses, he’s so confused lol

Alejandro Vargas:

Pretends to be indifferent but he’s trying to see where he went wrong and why you’re pulling away, he’s worried he did something wrong or something to upset you

But instead of wracking his brain for hours to see where he went wrong, he just assumes he upset you and gets to work on taking steps to make it up to you

So when you come home to an incredible meal and flowers and your favorite sweets, you can’t help but laugh, you bring him in close and you can’t stop laughing

You explain that you were just messing around and he chuckles, he’s teasing you, saying if you wanted to be spoiled, you should’ve just told him.

Rodolfo Parra:

Doesn’t understand what’s happening, he’ll ask you what’s wrong and make sure you’re feeling well and if you insist that nothing’s wrong, then he’ll let it be

He’s still concerned as to why you avoid him and at some point he’ll track you down and calmly confront you about it, insisting that if he did something to upset you, he’d rather you be honest with him, assuring you that he won’t get upset no matter what you say

When you give him a kiss and say you were doing it because you were curious what his reaction would be he breathes a sigh of relief, he’ll tease you for being so silly but more than anything he’s relieved he didn’t hurt you in any way.

[oneatlatime]

Sokka's Master

pleasebegoodpleasebegoodpleasebegoodpleasebegoodpleasebegood

Strange choice of master but we'll see where this goes.

The meteor shower animation is quite meditative. I wouldn't mind it as a screensaver.

How to describe something exceptional to your blind friend: "You've never not seen anything like this." It's amazing the quality put into even the tiniest of throwaway jokes.

Are meteor strikes flammable?

I love how whenever Sokka's disappointed he gets noodle arms. A surprisingly consistent characterisation.

Momo butt skate.

Iroh. The fuck?

ok. So he's playing a part for the guards. Why?

Pretty.

Funny to think about, but as a former WWE character, Toph's probably had more hero worship than the Avatar.

Lots to say about this! First, I stand corrected! i honestly thought that Sokka would be immune to this specific insecurity by virtue of him not being a bender. I was wrong! Second, I love how, as soon as Sokka expresses that he feels that he isn't as talented as the rest of them, the others respond by listing his actual, invaluable talents, without which the group would be completely at sea. They don't respond with "no you're perfect!" they respond with "no one can read a map like you can" and how he keeps their spirits up with jokes. They're not using false praise. They are using specific facts. I love that an episode that looks like it's going to deal with a character feeling down on themselves establishes from the get go that the character is invaluable, actually. So often, the 'low self esteem stock episode' puts the affirmation of the character's value at the end. Which means the viewer spends the whole episode being convinced that the character in question might actually be useless. Here, we're told from the start that the character is invaluable - the problem is that they do not perceive themselves to be so. Quite on the nose for a show that deals so much with identity.

OMIGOD IT GETS BETTER!!!!!!!!!!

Validating Katara sweeps in and a) validates his feelings, while b) clearly explaining that his self-perception is not in line with how the others see him, which c) doesn't invalidate a) !!!!

Katara has such emotional intelligence when she chooses to use it.

Nuanced intelligent discussion of the complexities of emotions and self-perception in a Sokka episode I am so happy I am blessed the gods are shining on me today I'm sitting here twirling my hair and swinging my feet and doodling hearts on the corner of my journal

SHOPPING!!!!!

btw that's the same face he makes when he says SUKI!!!

"Reinvigorate my battling" this boy. just. this boy.

He lasted a lot longer than I would have with nun chucks.

Aang the Happy Meal toy.

Some say that Halberd is still spinning today.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I present: the 45 degree Sokka.

Some Foley artist had the time of their life with this weapons sequence.

Why thank you for that exposition, Mr. Exposition. Now walk away and we'll never see you again.

Toph does NOT move ONCE this whole scene and it's ever so slightly freaking me out.

Toph tells you she learned from Badgermoles and no one wants to discuss this further?!? We're going to gloss over that?

So this episode has a training montage theme.

Sokka goes freestyle on those door knockers.

That's one hell of a castle. Must be dark in there though. Tiny windows.

Which explains the several hundred candles. This show. Set up with one hand; slam dunk with the other.

This guy's reciting Sokka's s1 introduction on Kyoshi Island.

Sokka: Actually. I am a dumb. The Master: Sold.

The face of someone who is definitely picking up what you're putting down.

It's been ages since I watched the episode, but is some of what the Master saying here about swords an echo of what Zuko says to the kid in Zuko Alone when he's decapitating sunflowers?

A Sokka-less Gaang. Depressing and they know it.

The way Katara's voice actor says "oh everyone's a critic" is gold.

Multidisciplinary education vs. kid who's never been within a mile of the box he's being told to think outside of. Fight!

Yikes that was a meaty hit. Does Sokka have a nose left?

They're wearing beehives on their heads.

Was Sokka always this short?

The greens in this episode are such a delight.

The way he says "I'm finished!" Sounds like "Am finished" and you can actually hear the smiley emoji he throws in.

He's good.

What do they FEED him?

Sokka's voice actor had a great time this episode. All the voice actors had a great time actually.

Sokka invents the La Z Boy

Katara inadvertently invents a fandom war by attempting a joke.

They're all so useless and it's wonderful.

That was all only one day? That's a lot of outfit changes for one day.

"You mess things up in a very special way." Compliment? Let's go with compliment.

Sokka is so very Sokka this episode.

A reason to live is coming!

*thundering herds of shippers in the distance*

That's clever. The inciting incident gets smelted. Haven't seen that before.

This whole Iroh gets buff montage has been completely dialogue free on Iroh's part. Crazy levels of inner peace, that he'd doesn't need to snark back at the guard.

Seriously. What are they FEEDING these children. Also how is that door that shiny.

Sokka really has it in for those door knockers.

Apropos of nothing, the clouds in this episode are all so yummy. All these soft slate colours and misty layers.

Meteoric iron is actually a thing, right?

Ok but aren't mold made swords crappy?

HI YUE

I love how they managed to made a crafting montage where the character who does the least work is the one who looks like he's working the hardest.

"I saw a heart as strong as my garden decor"

"No it certainly wasn't your skills. You had none."

Creativity, versatility, intelligence, meat, sarcasm.

You've known him like two days and you can already tell he's more worthy than any man you've ever trained? Sounds like you had poor taste in students.

"No. This is my fight. Alone." Bro you are going to DIE. The first time you held a sword was two days ago. You might need the avatar on this one.

Guard who never shuts up actually kind of has a point here. He's a dick about as usual, but it's entirely possible that the rank and file of the Fire Nation army view Iroh's actions as a betrayal. Does anyone remember in Star Wars movie number 7, or maybe 8, when that Trooper sees Finn after he's switched sides and yells "traitor!" and it's the best part of the movie? Yeah, like that.

This episode throws the concept of linear time out the window. In two days, Iroh gets swole and Sokka masters sword fighting.

Do you think Sokka's realised yet that this is his final exam?

Yummy yummy clouds.

One in a million pocket sand shot.

One in a million stick placement.

So this master is like a sword spirit or something. He can't be human. There's no way he could get the scabbard to fly on perfectly without seeing.

"Try Lee, There's a million Lees. There's a tea shop in Ba Sing Se that has a super cranky waiter called Lee."

This guy's just this side of committing treason and I love it.

I see this Master is a devotee of the 'Hakoda school of shoving outrageously over the top compliments into Sokka's thick skull in the hopes that 1% of them will stick.' I approve.

This last scene has gorgeous hills and skies but you'll have to take my word for it because I've hit the image limit.

Sokka's been inducted into the super secret boy band!!!

He saved space earth for Toph! He's so considerate! He's fuelling the ships!

Let's compromise and call it space dirt instead.

Final Thoughts

This episode every two minutes: Sokka, you are currently flawless and you're about to get better. Me: Yes. Yep. Yeah. Seconded. I concur.

I like it! It's great! It's 24 minutes of the writers and characters fangirling over Sokka! Of course I like it! It made me criminally overuse exclamation marks! What else can I say?

Hands down my favourite episode is Bato of the Water Tribe. For Sokka's story, this episode is Bato of the Water Tribe part 2. Of course I'm going to love it. This episode was lab grown specifically for me.

Now let's see if I can say something about this episode that isn't poorly disguised squealing.

I love how the characters respond to Sokka saying he's not special with an evidence-based refutation rather than blanket reassurance.

I love how shopping cheers up Sokka. I love how Katara knows that shopping will cheer him up. This must be something she's learned since the show started. I don't think there were malls in the South Pole. So Katara was paying attention when Sokka and Momo went through the bag saga.

I love how much the master is baffled yet impressed by Sokka. He seems almost charmed by this breath of fresh air. I think it's hilarious that, when Sokka first approaches him, he's expecting early season 1 Sokka. He'd better send Suki a thank you card.

I also really like "The way of the sword doesn't belong to any one nation." It seems obvious to us, but in a world where there are weaponisable skills that are quite literally inseparable from the nations their wielders inhabit, it's probably something no one in the Gaang has ever heard before.

Obviously the episode is a little rushed - half hour kid's show and all that - but it's still pretty crazy that you can apparently impart a solid basic knowledge of swordplay in two days.

Toph going all tsundere is funny, and makes Aang and Katara unapologetically desperate for Sokka's company twice as funny as it already is. Toph's like "whatever" and the other two spent the day making a welcome home banner.

I love how Sokka's happiness is always so loud and shameless. It makes it contagious.

This episode highlights what Sokka's actual strengths are, by instructing him in what he thinks his strengths are. If that makes sense? Sokka is brain, which he's finally starting to realise by attending brawn lessons.

He's also heart, and I'll die on that hill.

Iroh getting swole was honestly just a thing that happened. No comment really, except it was interesting to have a reminder from the guard that a character we perceive as the good guy is currently perceived as the bad guy by everyone but us. When the Fire Nation does inevitably get defeated, a whole nation is going to have to reset their worldview and that will not be an easy process.

More like this please!

[redux-iterum]

Sometimes I just have to reread and reread and take in how you’ve written Fireheart because it’s just so…

He’s just so good. So genuinely and unceasingly good. He cares so much and more than that he’s wise. Sometimes a character will say something and I go ‘there’s no way to comfort someone about this’ and then five minutes after that Fireheart says something wise that makes me rethink some shit that I, a real life human, am doing. Which is hard! This is harder to write convincingly than a strong character, because a character like Fireheart whose greatest strength is his heart HAS to follow through. And he has to be genuinely emotionally intelligent in a way that can’t just be, like, told. It has to be shown. And you manage to show that to us flawlessly, constantly, and consistently.

Like, man. No wonder everyone loves this guy. I love this guy. Absolute favorite version of Fireheart that I have EVER read.

Also, follow-up, Cloudpaw’s situation. You managed to make it not kind of infuriating, you found a reason for what he was doing that honestly broke my heart, and you did it all so naturally I’m still reeling over it. And then you managed to have Fireheart make an argument so convincing without contradicting the beliefs that he already has (ie: he’s not a xenophobe) and it just. Man. I hadn’t even thought of come of that stuff. I’ll be honest, I remember reading the original series and thinking it was morally neutral for Cloudpaw to go eat kittypet food, and now I’m rethinking it!

It IS rude to steal food. It IS rude to feed yourself in a way you can’t share with the people you love who are in constant threat of starvation. I always thought of it as a practical way to feed himself that didn’t take from his clanmates but…it isn’t fair, is it? It’s not fair at all for him to do that. Most of the argument in the original series felt like ‘OTHER CULTURE BAD AND WRONG AND YOU WRONG FOR PART IN IT’ and it made me kind of side with Cloudpaw out of sheer spite. But this is so much better! Actual arguments! And REASONS! That make sense for why these kitty people are doing what they do and thinking how they think!

We always say the Erins were two steps to the left of greatness with these battlecats. I think they were actually two miles away, because they have never provided the characterization they need. I think they were two miles away because the premise is great, sure, and they can handle plot but they are incapable of making these cats feel like the people they are. The Warriors Clans in the original never felt like a community because every individual never felt like a living person and I think that’s a problem much farther than two steps away from greatness.

Anyways, all of this is to say: You’re doing great work and thank you for this latest update! I’ve been trying to comment more lately :D Share thoughts and stuff.

I absolutely adore these long, analytical asks. Thank you for this, and for so many compliments!

Fireheart is such a fun little guy to write specifically for his goodness, and how everyone around him interacts with that. It's not often that I get to handle a character as dedicated to compassion and love as him. His entire being is based around "I care" - that's something even his mother doesn't have, and she's the matriarch. There are a couple unique challenges to this that'll come along in the future, so I won't say anything here, but I am very interested to see how you feel about one of the last chapters in this book.

As for Cloudpaw, thank GOD I avoided the annoying aspect of it. His behavior and subplot in the books aggravated me to no end for a variety of reasons that I won't get into here, so I put a lot of work into justifying why he would do that in this version. With Fireheart's explanation of why stealing kittypet food is wrong, as well, I remember sitting down for a long moment with myself and slowly knitting together exactly why Fireheart would not approve of humoring kittypet stuff like that, when he's got the most understanding of that life out of anyone in the Clans. The fairness struck me, and that was his reason. The Clans definitely refuse wet food out of pride and discrimination first and foremost, and don't bother explaining it to kits beyond that, but if someone overheard Fireheart talking to Cloudpaw, they'd snap their fingers, point at him and go, "Exactly! Yes! That!" He managed to put into words a concept that the Clans subconsciously understand but don't really analyze to themselves.

For the Erins: honestly, yes, I agree. I could go on for YEARS about the characterizations and lack thereof in the books (someone remind me to rant about that at some point), and how much of the story could be so much greater and more natural if everyone had a consistent, present personality. And, honestly, that's what was the most wrong about the original Redux - no personalities for anyone. I spend a LOT of time stewing over the characters of everyone written in Iterum to make up for that. It brings me great joy to hear that my work has paid off!

[tokki-tteokbokki]

One by One

Chapter Four: Spotter

Changbin x Fem Reader

MDNI

18+

Synopsis:

After constantly fighting with your boyfriend, Jisung, your relationship abruptly ends.

Unaware of the secret hope of your relationship's demise by your friends.

One by one, the boys can't help themselves.

Chapter Three:

Chapter Five:

Warnings:

dirty dirty smut, changbin’s biceps, semi public sexual endeavour, voyeurism, angst, jealously, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, oral sex(f receive), slight mention of cuckholding??

It’s been a few days since you all returned home. Your mind was still reeling from the intense trip to Jeju. You never thought you’d find yourself in bed with your ex’s best friends but something about how wrong and dirty it was just made you weak and you’d never say it aloud but it made you want more.

It was a blessing and curse to live in the same building as the boys, you had only run into Jisung a couple times. He seemed to be doing okay, your exchanges and encounters were short and awkward.

The stress was starting to take its toll, because sex was off the table for the time being you decided to hit the in-building gym. Before leaving your apartment you checked yourself in the mirror one last time. Adjusting your hat and tucking back the few stray hairs behind your ear, you sighed. I hope this helps… You finished straightening up, put your Airpods in and made you opened your door locking it behind you.

The well lit halls illuminated your way to the elevators. It was as if you were in autopilot, you didn’t even notice the familiar person standing next to you until you saw a hand wave in front of your face. “Huh” you gasped pulling out one of your buds and turned to meet a sweet face.

“Changbin” You smiled “Hey.” He replied returning the smile. He was dressed in black sports attire, his t-shirt perfectly wrapping itself around his body, making his muscles pop out. No no, you’re not doing this again. “Going somewhere?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Oh. Yeah, gym.” The low hum of the elevator getting louder as the lift came closer. “Me too!” he exclaimed, his face lit up brighter. You had only been to gym with Changbin a handful of times. In all honestly, he knowledge and skill kind of intimidated you so you preferred to be alone.

Ding.

The doors opened up and you both made your way in. “It’s been a while since we’ve worked out together.” You nodded your head in agreement. “Go easy on me, it’s been a while.” You chuckled. He crossed his arms, inhaling. It was hard not to stare at his biceps. You could only imagine what it would feel like to have them around your neck while he… You gulped hard. “How are you feeling?” He asked, noticing the shift in your state. “Oh. I’m alright, still a little tired from the trip. You?” He leaned back “Happy to be home, I missed the gym.” He chuckled to which you giggled.

Arriving at the amenity floor you both made your way to the gym, carrying on the lighthearted conversation. Changbin opened the door for you, your smile fading as you saw Jisung and Felix working out. “Yoooooohhh!” Changbin sounded as he entered, Felix and Jisung turning to notice you both. Jisung’s expression stayed neutral as he looked past Changbin at you. You shuffled uncomfortably to greet Felix. “Are you resting well?” Felix pulled you in for a hug. You couldn’t help but smile at the ray of sunshine always giving you warmth when you need it most. “Yes, plenty.” Your eyes meeting his. “She’s not going to be resting much now…DWAEKKI GYM TIME!” Changbin yelled, picking you up bridal style and spinning you around. You let out high-pitched giggles as he spun. As he put you down you caught a glimpse of Jisung’s face. He was fuming.

When you were together he never liked any of the boys being touchy with you. You were his and only his. He never let them forget it. From all the PDA which earned playful disgusted groans to making you scream in pure ecstasy from him being buried deep inside you.

“Well Mr. Trainer, can you fit two more clients?” Felix chimed in. “Hell yeah!” He clapped his hands together in anticipation. You inhaled sharply, you didn’t want to stay in the same vicinity as Jisung let alone the same room. At the same time, you didn’t want to be a burden that people had to plan around. You smiled big. “Ready to get ruined!” You joked without thinking. The boys eyes were wide and a massive grin spread across Changbin’s face, Felix tried to hide his smug smirk by pushing his tongue around his mouth, Jisung blankly looked at you before aggressively taking a breath. Turning pink, Changbin decided to step in before letting you succumb to embarrassment. “Let’s start!”

Beads of sweat ran down your neck and onto your chest. Your breasts moist with your essence, you reached down to grab your water bottle. The boys trying not to get distracted. Your legs wobbled as you stood up straight. Fuck, he was not going easy on you. The other two were just as spent as you were, Jisung pushing his hair back, panting. He looked… Delicious. Wait, no. He’s your ex, he left you. You lightly shook your head and turned to Changbin. His right arm raised to drink from his bottle, you couldn’t help but stare. His bicep was massive, the temptation to reach out and grab him was overwhelming but you kept your composure. “Alright squats!” Changbin announced. Jisung and Felix went ahead of you to do their reps. Jisung letting out some familiar grunts that made you squirm a little. “(y/n), you’re up!” Felix motioned for you to step up. You walked over and placed yourself under the bar, preparing yourself for the burning you were about to feel in your legs. “Wait.” Changbin intercepted, walking behind you.

You could feel the heat radiating off him as he helped position you. His hands found your hips and you reacted softly to the touch. You looked so beautiful from behind, Changbin’s thoughts straying away from working out. You were only in a sports bra and spandex shorts, both which tightly clung to your body. Trying to keep his composure he kept directing you. “Okay, lift the bar.” His voice dangerously close to your ear, making you swallow hard.

You looked up to see Felix checking his phone. Jisung look at you and Changbin. A vicious jealous aura coming off him. You adjusted yourself and pulled the bar off the hold. Changbin positioned you better “I’ll spot you, don’t worry.” His voice getting close to your ear, your heart fluttered at his hands on your body. “Okay and down.” He instructed. You squatted down, on your way back up Changbin’s body was closer than it was before. Your ass slid up his front, you grunted softly, playing it off as just a normal work out noise.

“Jisung” Felix lifted his head from his phone “Minho Hyung just made dinner. Wanna go?” Without a second thought Jisung stormed out. Felix taken aback, scurried to grab their belongings and chase after him. “Hyung! Thanks for the workout!” He thanked as he ran out, the door closing behind him. Your arms still holding up the bar, you moved to place it back. “No no.” Changbin reached in to help you hold it up. “Two more.” His voice became quiet and low, his hands back on your hips. “Now, spread your legs a little more for me.” Your breath hitched for a moment, you proceeded to follow his instruction. “Down.” You followed his command again like a dog. Squatting down and coming up, rubbing against him again but… something was different. Something was.. hard. Oh my God.

“Changbin-“ “One more.” He ordered. You couldn’t see him but his presence behind you was intimidating. You heeded his order once again but this time you were going to take advantage of your position. On your way back up you took your time, you slowly pushed yourself up and deeper into his groin. You let out a slightly exaggerated moan of relief. You heard him muffle a groan. You put the bar back on the hold, you thought to turn around but something was stopping you. You stayed still and suddenly felt Changbin’s arms wrapped around your waist.

“I need to shower.” You softly panted “And so do you.” You giggled turning your head back, sniffing and playfully pretending to be grossed out. He spun you around and leaned you against the equipment, his mouth centimetres away from yours “We haven’t even gotten dirty yet.” Your eyes fixed on his lips and he spoke. (y/n), you shouldn’t.

Changbin moved his right leg between yours, his thick thigh radiating heat onto your crotch. “Changbin- Oh!” He hiked his thigh up, pressing it to your unsuspecting pussy. Firm and warm, he felt delightful. Time and time again, you said it was the last time but here you were, crumbling into a desperate cock hungry whore again. There was no more use in fighting it, morality doesn’t exist in these moments of pure pleasure. You were simply just a toy for these men to play with and you were okay with it, secretly… you desired it more and more.

Caving into your desire, you melted onto his thigh. Changbin smirked “Now move.” He ordered. You slowly rocked your hips back and forth, applying pressure onto your clothed clit. You bit your lip, trying to hold in the moans. His breathing became laboured, he couldn’t take it. His lips crashed into yours, he groaned into your mouth. He lifted his thigh higher making you squeak. “You sound so cute.” He pulled away, all you could do was moan in response. Your hands travelling around his body, finding their way on his arms. Oh God.

You danced your fingers around his biceps before holding onto them. Massive. You moaned more at the feel. Changbin let out a smile against your lips. “That good?” He asked “I’ve barely done anything.” He chuckled, pulling himself away. He took in the sight of you, desperate, hot, your lips parted to let your pants through. His gym shorts becoming uncomfortable, he pounced like a tiger. He picked you up swiftly, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. You greedily pulled him into a wet kiss, his tongue playing with yours. You felt his thick cock press into you through your clothes.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you both didn’t realize a figure that lurked at the door. Jisung immediately froze in a crouched position, peering through the window on the door he watched as Changbin manhandled you. He rushed out with such haste he didn’t realize he left his phone behind. He was livid, peeping as you moaned into kiss. He was ready to bust the door down and beat Changbin with it. He was-

Hard.

He was getting hard. It made him want to fuck you into oblivion while Changbin watched so he would know that no one could fuck you like he could. His cock twitched in his pants as he saw Changbin lift your bra up, exposing you. His lips latching onto your nipple, making you throw your head back.

“(y/n)” Changbin breathed “Mm” You moaned in response, he pulled away from your wet erect nipple “Bin, don’t stop.” You whined, he let out a laugh “We’re going to get caught doing it out here.” You suddenly remembered where you were and felt yourself blush “So needy, doesn’t even care if we get caught.. I bet you’d love to have everyone watch you get fucked.” He teased. You bit your lip in response. “Come on.” He gently put you down, pulling your bra back over your breasts. “Where are we going?” He grabbed your hand “Upstairs, dummy. I want to hear you scream.”

Jisung crawled to the door to the stairwell as stealthily and quickly as he could, his raging boner hindering his movement. He waited until he knew the elevator had taken you both before he exited himself to retrieve his phone. Collecting his thoughts, he couldn’t keep this to himself. He sent off a text asking his Hyung to talk.

You cautiously entered Changbin’s shared apartment with Chan. Trying to act as normal as possible, subtly trying to check if the coast was clear. “He’s not here.” Changbin sounded behind you, removing his shoes. “He’s at the studio, probably will be for a while.” You both stood there for a moment just staring at each other, before you could speak he picked you up over his shoulder. Catching you off guard, you squealed as you were heaved over his shoulder. Suddenly, a large smack landed on your ass. “Hey!” You protested, he laughed as he carried you to his room.

Shutting the door behind him, he effortlessly threw you on his bed. The silly boy down the hall from you was gone, at the edge of the bed was man who was determined to ruin you. You perched yourself up, spreading your legs apart. Changbin stripped down to nothing, revealing his naked body. He wasn’t overly defined like the others but the masculine shape he took almost made you drool. His thick defined dick, curved gently to the side. He crawled onto the bed, hovering over you. “Hmm.. something isn’t right.” He knelt back on his knees, looking your clothed body over.

“Take it all off for me, princess.” He smirked, you heeded to his order. You sat up slowly and sensually peeled your bra off. Changbin ogled at your tits bounce as they were freed. You took pride in his reaction. Leaning back slightly, you pulled your shorts off, revealing your bare wet pussy to him. “What a slut… not even wearing panties.” He licked his lips, leaning forward to place soft kisses on your thighs.

His kisses were like static, making you jerk with each one. His lips moved closer and closer to your eager clit. You looked down as he looked up at you, licking a long strip up your slit before hungrily sucking on your clit. You moaned loud making him groan into your pussy, the vibrations sending you closer to an orgasm. “Bin… Bin! Please!” You screamed, begging for release. He sucked harder and moved his tongue up and down over your swollen clit. “Fuck!” You shuddered hard as your orgasm peaked, your thighs pressing tightly against his head.

Nearly fucked out, your eyes fluttered opened to see Changbin smiling in accomplishment from between your legs. “What a good girl.” He praised. His dick was throbbing, aching to be surrounded by your plush walls. “Fuck.. Fuck me.” You managed through laboured breaths. Changbin suddenly flipped you over on your stomach, climbing on top of you. His tip, seeping with precum pressed against your wet pussy lips. “Ugh fuck, (y/n)” He groaned sliding his tip through your folds. Finally, he slowly pushed the tip in. You gripped the bedsheets. He was thick, you wanted to feel him stretch you out. “More” You begged. You felt his hands grip your ass as he fully slid in. “Oh, God.” He whimpered, all you do was whine.

He started pumping himself in and out. Every thrust opening you up. The tight resistance of your cunt making it hard for him to hold it in. “Fuck this.” He laid on top of you, his body caging in you in, the new angle making his cock disappear deeper inside you. He was losing it, his right arm swung around your neck, putting you in a headlock. Your neck was preciously placed in the crook of his elbow, you gasped in pleasure. If there was a holy grail of choking, Seo Changbin’s biceps was it.

Moaning and profanities filled the air, his thrusts into you quickened. “Take my cum, princess.” He moaned into your ear. That was all you needed to meet you earth shattering orgasm. Your vision blurred and you clenched tightly around him “Fuck!! (y/n)!!” Changbin whined, spilling himself inside you.

He pulled out and fell next to you. Pushing the hair out of your face, still on your stomach you turned your head to face him. “Good workout” He winked, you chuckled in response. He kissed your nose “Let’s shower, we stink.” “Agreed.” You smiled.

Dinner at Minho’s finished without a hitch. “Ohh.. That was so good.” Felix grumbled, leaning back in his chair. “Thanks, Hyung.” Felix sighed in satisfaction. “No problem.” Minho replied picking up the dishes and walking to the sink. Jisung sat quietly while he fidgeted with his glass of water. “Jisung,” Felix leaned back onto the table “Are you okay?” “Just tired” He replied not looking up. Felix knew his members well enough to know when not to pry. Assessing the situation, Felix decided it was time for him to leave. “I’m gonna head back to mine, I’ll see you guys tomorrow?” “Yeah” Minho called from the kitchen to which Jisung nodded. As Felix left, he gently patted Jisung’s shoulder.

The door closed and the apartment was painfully quiet. Minho finished loading the dishes and came back to the table, he looked at his younger.

“Well, what did you want to talk about?”

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

You always have the best thought out and researched Hobie takes, so I have a punkflower question for you. How does Hobie respond to his boyfriend's father being a cop? I feel too many fics and creators tend to brush it under the rug. How do you think that situation would pan out?

OOOOHHH YAY HOBIE AND COP STUFFFFF SO lets talk about

Miles, Hobie, and Having a Dad In Blue

[I'm gonna be transparent like Miles - there's no open romance in this. This is mainly a short thing about Hobie helping Miles heal from the pressures of his family - just wanted to give a heads up so no one gets to the end and gets disappointed lol]

Honestly, when I think about it -

I think Hobie's first reaction would be more about Miles, than it would be his own feelings.

Like I don't think his first thought would be 'ew' or 'that's horrible' . I think automatically his first thought would be -

'That makes a lot of sense'.

First thing that pops into his head.

Hobie and Miles come from two very different universes, and the ways they handle their shared identity of Spider-man is really different too.

We hear it directly in Hobie's introduction - He's NOT a Role Model.

But earlier in the movie, Officer Davis' biggest gripes with Spider-man - with Miles - is that he is not enough of a role model.

Miles is trying his best. He wants to be a good hero for his dad's sake - knowing one day the cat will be out of the bag.

That's different than Gwen and her father. Her father already knows GhostSpider as a murderer, and there's no reversing that. Gwen knew her father would never accept her - so she hasto keep it a secret - in definitely.

She'll never be a role model to her father - and she's not trying to be anymore. That's Gwen's arc.

An arc Miles hasn't gone on yet. He still wants to be a role model. He wants his dad to idolize and like Spider-man because he doesn't plan to keep it a secret indefinitely.

Unlike Gwen, he wants his father to know who he is.

But he can't - he still feels like he has something to live up to - a code of honor he feels he isn't reaching.

Miles wants to be good enough.

So Hobie sees him going through this struggle all the time, of wanting to be like Peter, wanting to impress his dad, worrying about telling his parents. And not knowing the source -

And then Miles is like "OH By the way, my dad's a cop."

I feel like it would just click for Hobie. He'd be like "That makes a lot of sense, if I'm being honest."

If anything I think he'd feel for Miles first and foremost. That's what Hobie does.

He'd immediately see Miles, and the effect his dad has on him, in both good and bad ways. His dad helps Miles strive to be better - but that also leaves him feeling guilty and alone.

I think he'd go on to be like "That's gotta be tough. Is that the reason why you X, Y, Z?"

And Miles - Poor Miles probably wouldn't even pick up on this until that very moment. Having Hobie say to this him would probably leave him a little shook.

But it'd be SO relieving.

Gwen and Miles don't talk about their family. Gwen isn't a talky person. Miles doesn't really have anyone to talk to about his family dynamic or his situation at home.

Like even Miles!42 - His uncle Aaron KNOWS he's Prowler. Miles doesn't have that support.

And then Hobie would give it to him, and be like 'I understand', 'That must suck', 'You don't have to be a role model, you just have to be yourself.'

Hobie offers that support all without Miles asking - (Miles is finna cry)

All because Miles having a cop as a dad immediately explains a lot of the struggles he's going through. And Hobie can see that. It makes him frustrated and he'd want to at least be someone Miles can talk to.

Like police corruption and oppression aside, living in the shadow of someone with a black and white view of right and wrong, or good and bad, sucks.

Growing up under someone who abides by order and swears by it SUCKS, because the world in unorderly. The universe is.

Hobie knows this. Him meeting Officer Davis however is a whole thing -

Honestly speaking, I'd think he'd look at Miles dad with pity. Like 'Damn you're a good father and a good husband - but you're a cop'.

He'd probably turn up to the cookout, make himself and his views known (not changing the laces) and if Miles' dad really finds a problem with them he can ask.

Hobie will happily tell him "I'm not from here. The place I'm from is a lot less nice and a lot more corrupt than this one. What I did ain't fun - but it was in the name of liberty. I guess you know all about 'defending liberty', don't you? You wear a blue uniform to remind you. I wear blue laces."

Because it's the truth. Hobie will say that shit without blinking. Standing there like

'Now is there a problem, officer?' Just because he wears blue laces DOESN'T mean he lacks a moral code.

Hobie has a moral code. A VERY strong one - and simply in the way he carries himself, you can tell that he's committed to that code.

Maybe even more than Officer Davis. They have two different moral codes, but I'm sure Miles dad can identify on sight - and respect - 'We both are the type to stand by what we think is right'

Because by Hobie not changing himself, he's showing that he won't bend his morals for Miles' family. But there's differences in the way they operate and that's okay.

But ALL IN ALL -

I think Hobie learning about Miles' Dad would

Bring them closer together. For the first time Miles has words and reason behind the pressure he feels. Why he looks up to his dad and is annoyed with him at the same time. Hobie would catch the connection right away, and open the discussion. And Miles is open to talking, we see it in their scene before Miguel's office. I think having that outlet would help Miles SO much. I feel like he'd become more confident over night. Hobie telling him there's no rules or laws or academy when it comes to being Spider-man. There are certain circumstances where the police just can't help. That's what Spider-man is for. To go above and beyond the black and white authority society has created. It'd be so liberating for Miles.

Garner some respect between Officer Davis and Hobie. It kinda sounds backwards. But lets be honest, if they're at the dinner table and Officer Davis asks about one of Hobie's political patches - he's gonna tell him what he thinks straight out. Hobie's wearing a 'Dearm the Police' patch and Miles' dad asks about it - Hobie's gonna be like 'Yeah, they don't need those weapons. The lot of them are already weapons themselves.' And of course Officer Davis is gonna want a conversation about it, and Hobie loves hearing himself talk. But it never gets heated. It's them going back and forth dropping these huge points and citing examples and bringing up theoretical scenarios. It's just - THEY KEEP TALKING. Rio is like 'Hun, please your food is getting cold.' And Jeff is like 'One second - *Turns to Hobie* In 1983 there was a court case about a cop- *continues his long as counterpoint*' What even more interesting - HOBIE HAS A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF HISTORY THAN JEFF. Yeah, all those cases in the 70's that Jeff was a baby for. Yeah, Hobie was there and a teenager - the equivalent of cases still match up. So Jeff is debating at the dinner table with a dude who is technically older than him - but he doesn't know that so Hobie keeps catching him off guard with that SMUG ASS GRIN Miles is sighing under his breath like 'Hobie COME ON let him win PLEASE' So for Miles, and ONLY MILES, Hobie lets it slide. Until Jeff turns on the TV. And the first thing they see on the screen is s report about politics and NOW THEY'RE BACK AT IT AGAIN FUCK Hobie pointing at the screen like 'Case & Point, m8. Thats exactly what I mean!' Fuck outta here, Hobie will debate till the cows come home.

It'd help Miles and his dad a lot Officer Davis would probably be left with a HUGE amount of respect for Hobie. Because yeah he looks like a delinquent - to someone obvious trained by the system. But Hobie knows his shit. He knows how to maneuvour in conversation, how to pick peoples brains, and understand their reasoning. He GENUINELY wants to have a conversation. Because he genuinely believes he can back himself up in a calm and logic way. So why not talk about it? After Hobie leaves there would always be a silence - and that's because yeah they went back and fourth for 40 minutes, but Hobie ALWAYS leaves you with something to think about. Or consider. Or re-evaluate. Honestly Miles has NO idea what his dad thinks. Usually his dad would be ranting still - but he looks more thoughtful. Just replaying the discussion he had with Hobie. Miles might ask his dad what he thinks - but his dad might say something vague like Officer Stacy did - call him a 'piece of work' It isn't until later when Miles' dad knocks on his door that he realizes how much Hobie has an impact. Even if his dad didn't know about his secret identity - I think he would see how much his police training effects his home and Miles in specific. How much pressure that can put on someone. Officer Davis would replay the story Hobie told him of the unnamed girl whose father shot at her. And he'd consider how anyone could choose their badge over their kid. Maybe he has a discussion with Miles, apologizes for the pressure he puts on him, telling Miles he's proud of him.

And Miles would know it's all because of Hobie. Because Hobie cares about him and Hobie knows how to approach people, all type of people.

Officer Davis would KNOW how Hobie feels about cops. And he's know why. He'd at the very least understand Hobie, or respect him. Hobie would make him realize - 'Oh hey, you don't have to be a role model to be a good person'.

Because Hobie Brown is NOT a role model. He's something better.

That's just how I see it. I think Hobie is a great mediator tbh. It's his strongest talent. It's the reason why Miles trusts him to much to begin with.

ANNNDDD As per usual if you made it this far - THANK YOU!!!! The gift shop is to the left. As courtesy here is a photo of Hobie with a bonus photo of Miles that I think is really really funny.

I don't know why that photo of Miles is SOOO funny to me- I think its the fact his hands are in fists his expression is so unreadable IT LOOKS LIKE HES ABOUT TO SOCK ME IN THE MOUTH Im in legit tears laughing at that

Bye.