#my brain is fried and my eyes are drooping to the floor

[starhvney]

Hi hi! I wanted to request a headcanon on what the mystreet boys (Garroth, Laurence, Gene, Blaze, Dante, etc.) would be like on their wedding night? Smut please :3

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: blaze, dante, garroth, gene, laurance

𝐂𝐖: NSFW, sexual acts

𝐀/𝐍: i’m not super satisfied with how this turned out but my brain is fried so :p i still hope you enjoy hehe

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑷𝑶𝑺𝑻 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻, 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑨𝑹𝑬 𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑬 𝑶𝑹 𝑼𝑵𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑩𝑳𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑺𝑬𝑿𝑼𝑨𝑳 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑷𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑺𝑬 𝑫𝑵𝑰.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄

he’s so lost in the feeling of how good you feel around him, with your legs hitched over his shoulders and hips frantically slamming down into yours that he doesn’t realize how much time has passed since he started fucking you into the mattress.

it was now late into the night—your wedding day technically over as it was now the early hours of the morning—and blaze still hadn’t lost nearly enough of his energy compared to you.

your dress has long since been discarded on the floor next to blaze’s suit, and your makeup has melted off your face. you’re not sure how many times you’ve cummed, or how many times he has for that matter. but the sticky mess that connected the two of you, soaking the sheets and dripping to the floor was enough of a testament to the heated exchange you shared tonight. 

everything about him was overwhelmingly warm. from his mouth and hot breaths on your shoulder, to his large hand pressed over your lower stomach as his length made a bulge against the skin with every thrust. 

your eyelids were heavy, barely open as you lost your grip on staying conscious. you’d lost any ability to speak, choked mewls the only thing you could muster anytime you tried to utter any words.

a low, needy groan left his lips, the noise similar to a growl as his canines dragged against your bruised skin. he slows down his frenzied rhythm as he spills inside of you for the nth time tonight. his spend gushes out of you as he shifts his hips forward, causing you to flutter and squeeze around his shaft.

his lips crash into yours again, and you whine in discomfort at the empty feeling as he finally pulls out from your worn and swollen hole. slowly, he lowers your legs from his shoulders, pitied laughter leaving his lips as he watches them shake between his fingers. you’re sure you won’t be able to walk tomorrow, with your sore hips and strained thighs.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄

dante’s hands grip and massage your breasts through the white lingerie that decorated them, his fingertips pinching and rolling your hardened nipples through the material.

he chuckles at your small whimpers, head resting back on the headboard and a smirk plastered on his lips. he adjusts his hips, purposefully stirring them up into you, his dick buried deep to the hilt and your lacey panties pushed to the side.

your hands fly out to land on his stomach, head drooping forward to land on his chest and dante couldn’t help but chuckle again. you were just so cute sometimes, and watching you struggle riding him after saying you could was adorable.

“need help, hon’?” he asks, and you can hear the smug smirk in his tone.

his hands fall to your hips, squeezing them before gently lifting you up, dragging his length slowly out of your walls to the tip, leaving you fluttering at the empty feeling. before you can make any complaints he quickly pulls you back down, skin slapping against skin as he sets a steady pace, bouncing you on his cock. 

he’s so mesmerized by the way you look on top of him, his eyes can’t decide where they want to focus on. they trail from the lewd expression on your face as you cry his name in broken moans, to the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, and down to the shiny slick that covered his dick every time it appeared and disappeared back into your cunt.

“ah, so good. you’re so cute like this, you know that?”

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

it’s unfair to him, how beautiful you looked all night. since he saw you walking down the aisle he had that enamored and glossy look in his eyes, the cerulean pools of color in his irises reflecting his overwhelming love for you.

so you really can’t blame him for how he immediately began to tug your dress off as soon as you crossed the threshold into your suite, or how he groaned when his hungry eyes landed on the delicate lace that decorated your body underneath.

“so beautiful, and all mine,” he pants, kissing the side of your face with certain passion as his hands hold yours down into the sheets beneath you.

your pleasured cries echo off the walls, and you can’t be bothered to feel embarrassed about who might hear you in the hotel with the way his huge dick continuously rammed itself into you. between the sound of your heartbeat thudding in your ears and the gasps for breath between the two of you, you can faintly hear the lewd pap pap pap of his balls slapping against the wet skin of your ass.

“fuck, ’m gonna cum,” you sob, barely giving the warning before you shutter against him, your juices splashing between the two of you as he continues his pace.

“love you,” he moans, breaths coming out short as his hips stutter in their desperate pace. “i love you.”

you manage to choke out a stuttered “love you” back, before squealing at the feeling of overstimulation on your nerves.

“you feel so good, my beautiful wife. just hang on for a little longer, okay? ‘m close.”

one of his hands releases its grip on your own, moving to cup your cheek as he rolls into you, stilling in his movements as his warm cum sends a delirious bliss throughout your nerves. the heat the two of you have created is trapped under the sheets and blankets, keeping you warm and cozy from the room’s cold air. 

his forehead rests against yours, both of your sweat mixing together as his eyes dazedly stare into yours with that same glossy, lovesick look.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄

it took you by surprise, how gentle gene had been treating you all night. you weren’t sure how you expected him to treat you on your wedding night, but it most certainly wasn’t this. his tongue delved into your mouth, swallowing your soft gasps as his fingers pumped and curled into your heated core with a tender touch.

your eyes teared up, overwhelmed and dazed as he pinned you down in place with his body. you could do nothing but cling onto him, fingers digging into his arms and leaving irritated scratches along his shoulders.

“so pretty.”

his fingers continue to work open your cunt as he sloppily trails his kisses toward your jawline before propping himself up to admire your expressions. you can’t help the whine that leaves your lips as his fingertips brush against that certain spot that has you seeing stars, turning your face away from his hooded gaze.

“don’t shy away,” his voice is husky, the statement sounding more like a demand than any request. “look at me.”

his hips pin yours down as he speeds up the pace, the hard length that strained through his pants pressing against your thigh. using his free hand, he cups your jaw, turning your head back so he can see you.

you squirm, tears dripping down your cheeks as your breath catches in your throat. the pressure that had been building in your lower abdomen was tensing into a thin thread, close to snapping you into bliss.

“there you go. cum for me, yeah? can you do that?”

his fingers hit that spot, snagging the thread and tipping you over the edge. your eyes roll up as you gush around his fingers, back arching up into his chest as he leans back down to press a kiss along the shell of your ear.

“good girl,” his breath ruffles your hair, sending shivers down your neck.

he finally retracts his fingers from inside of you, massaging your hips and making you whine as you jerk and spasm beneath his touch. you hear the unbuckling of his belt and the shuffle of his suit pants, before his hard cockhead slid between your folds, his precum that had gathered on the tip mixed with your slick to create a natural lube. 

“you can take some more, yeah?”

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

“just let me take care of you, okay? i’m gonna make you feel good tonight,” laurance murmurs, kisses trailing down your stomach and lingering on your hips as he begins to suck bruises into the skin. 

his hands rub and pinch at your thighs, head moving dangerously lower to your dripping core. you whine at his slow ministrations, hips squirming under his fingertips when he presses a small kiss against your clit. 

he laughs softly as he feels your hips desperately shift beneath him, as he keeps you from bucking up into his mouth. his hands grip tighter on your thighs, fingers digging in deeper to pull your hips towards him as he gives another small nip to your clit.

you whimper out his name, hands shooting into his hair.

“shh, my love,” he whispers, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine as he grabs your wrists, pinning them to your stomach between one of his own.

he leans lower, lips hovering over your center as his fingers begin to rub slow circles on your wet skin. his tongue flattens against your folds before his lips attach and suck on your aching clit. his free hand holds out one of your legs as they try to close in around his head, spreading you out for him.

without a second to waste he dives in, lapping his tongue against your cunt and sucking up your slick juices before his tongue plunges into you. he relishes in the way you melt under his touch, your soft sighs of pleasure music to his ears. 

your face heats up at the lewd noises coming from between your legs, the wet slurps making your ears burn red as your husband eats you out like you were his last meal. he begins to grind down into the mattress to relieve the tension as his cock strains uncomfortably against his pants.

his nose brushes against your bundle of nerves as he continues to fuck you with his tongue, causing your legs to tremble against him and pulling you closer to the edge of pleasure.

“please,” you cry, chest heaving as you squirm and gasp, eager moans falling from your lips.

suddenly he begins to shake his head back and forth, mouth continuously flicking against your g-spot as his nose rubs against your clit. your hands tug against his hold, desperately trying to latch out against him to ground yourself as you begin to ride out your orgasm.

he lets go, smiling as you grasp onto his hair, squirting against his mouth. he sucks up your release with a lewd pop, before raising his head up to look at you with his pupils blown wide in lust and chin covered in your juices.

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[callmemickey]

Pepsi cola gmfo!!!!!😮‍💨😭🫨 my brain is fried i love pleasure dom!simon SO much im gonna manifest this man into my life😫 that being said, I for one would love to see what happened that one time reader tried to sneak up on him and got a firsthand demonstration on what would’ve happened to her if she had been an intruder 👀🍿

oh my god girl noooo 😭 no i couldn’t POSSIBLY wri-

A dreaded late night at work was suddenly flipped into a whirlwind of excitement: no overtime! Your boss said it could wait until the next week, and you could realistically schedule in the work next Wednesday, so you brimmed with happiness. You would gladly stress and fret at work next week just to savor today.

You pulled into your driveway, a burst of energy coursing through you as you were bubbling to see your fiancé. You have frequently been coming home exhausted and much later in the evening, so coming home at the proper time? It was one of the most thrilling moments of your adult life, but coming home on time to your fiancé? Electrifying.

With an urge to surprise him, you kept your eye on the front door as you turned off your car, slinking like a weasel to the porch. You licked your bottom lip before biting it to keep back your giggles. Pulling your keys from your purse, you slowly but firmly slid the key into the door, gingerly twisting it. You exhaled, steadying yourself. Hand on the handle, you turned cautiously, anxiety shooting through your hands.

You opened the door, peeking inside before tiptoeing in, gently shutting and locking behind you. To minimize sound, you were able to slide off your work shoes. You looked down the dark hallway, noting that Simon didn’t hear you, or, at least, he wasn’t standing there waiting. You were tentative, however, with the way you hesitantly moved down the hall, gliding with your pantyhose on.

Peeking, eyes just past the doorway to the living room, you spied on Simon. He sat on the couch on the far end, his back to you with something nonsensical on the television. You narrowed your eyes as you quietly shuffled your feet to the couch, your arms creeping up while your heart pounded incredibly loud in your ears. You were just upon him, feeling as if you just trumped him in stealth - and it almost caused you to laugh.

Your hands, so gentle and featherlight, went to his shoulders. You wanted to quickly then wrap your arms around his chest, as a cute little surprise! But what you failed to realize, which you continue to do, is that your fiancé, a Lieutenant with some crazy special operations unit, couldn’t be surprised.

It was probably because he heard your car in the driveway, the front door unlocking, opening, closing, and relocking, and your feet shuffling on the floor with your breath staggering from excitement and giggles.

Faster than a snake striking its prey, Simon’s hand grasped at your arm, his other hand swooping behind to grab at your back, and with a strong, inhuman pull, flipped you over the couch and onto your back. A yell left your mouth as you flew through the air and landed with a huff. Pinning your hands to your sides, Simon spun around on the couch to straddle you.

“You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” His tone, something you rarely heard, was a threat, but it was still oozing lust.

You were breathless for a moment, his hardened cock tenting his sweatpants, facing you proudly. You looked at it momentarily, jaw slacking and mouth salivating before blinking your gaze back up to him, half-lidded. “Yes,” you sighed eagerly, your heat spreading through your cunt, a wetness rubbing against your panties.

He smirked, lowering the band of his sweatpants and underwear, his gorgeous, thick cock springing free. Your breath stopped for a second, watching the tip bob up and down in your face before standing erect with a slight droop from the heaviness. Oh, fuck, you were so excited to be home.

Simon began rubbing his cock, pre cum beading at the head. He was horny for a while, thinking about you coming home, but reaching peak arousal when he realized you were trying to stealthily surprise him. Cute. So cute that he wanted to fuck that smirk right off of your face.

You squeezed and rocked your hips, rubbing your thighs as you tried to find some semblance of pleasure as Simon was in his. He wouldn’t give. You looked up at him. “Really?” You asked in a sad voice, feeling teased.

“Aww, hah, you think a naughty little thing like you gets to cum?” A rhetorical question. Your mouth went dry and you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

Simon shifted up your chest, his groin just about to press your face, his heat emanating onto you. You moaned softly, excitedly, a smile filled with anticipation on your face. His hand still on his cock, he lightly tapped your cheek with his firm erection. You giggled, closing your eyes for a moment before looking back up at him.

“Open.” His tone was curt, demanding.

You obeyed. “Yes, sir.” Your voice rang, hiding a smirk while his hand tensed briefly at your response. Your jaw hung down, tongue out, your hot mouth beckoning him to enter.

His tip pressed onto your tongue and into your mouth, and you immediately began to bob your head onto his cock. Simon sighed, his hand moving to your hair, pulling it out of the way. You gagged, tears biting at your eyes.

“You don’t have to go that hard, baby,” he reassured in a soft voice.

You popped your mouth off of his cock. “But I thought I was a bad girl?” You asked with a pout.

He smirked, falling back into his role. “Yeah - and a fuckin’ slutty little thief, too.” He added, pushing his cock into your mouth, allowing the gags and tears.

Simon struggled with staying in character it seemed, too high strung to want to continue if there was a semblance of him hurting you. What he was going to learn was that his dominance made you painfully horny, a pool laying in your panties.

He popped his cock from your mouth, sighing at seeing you swollen red lips, saliva dripping and drooling from your mouth, mascara smeared. Your eyes were half-lidded, visibly glazed as you looked at him with neediness.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N.” He sighed before sliding back down your body, your hands freeing.

Simon grabbed your blouse and ripped it, buttons flying across the living room as a shrill gasp involuntarily came from you from the shock. You glared at him. “Simon, that was hundreds-“

“I’ll buy you another one.” His tone was rushed as his hands snaked behind your back and undid your bra, pulling everything off from the top of your body. The man was desperate.

His hands groped deeply at your breasts, squeezing your nipples firmly, and you yelped at the movement. Simon got off of you briefly, and before you could react, he flipped you over on the couch so you were lying on your stomach. He straddled your thighs, pushing up your skirt to reveal your ass.

He angled your hips up, and, startling you, ripped your pantyhose in half to reveal your black thong. You moaned at his aggression, his hands pulling your panties down and spreading your ass. He inhaled as you whimpered, your cunt, glistening and wet, felt the cool air hit, causing a shiver to ripple up your back.

Simon’s fingers rubbed in between your folds, momentarily circling your clit before submerging them inside your needy hole. You cried out as he gave a few experimental thrusts. “You this fuckin’ wet, huh?” He chuckled, “Needy little slut.”

He pulled his fingers out, another cry leaving you as you felt the head of his cock press against your entrance. You whined, wiggling your hips against him, trying to usher him to plunge into you. A harsh slap stung your ass, causing you to yelp. “Simon!” You gasped, looking back at him.

His normally warm brown eyes seemed almost pitch black with desire, face serious. He squeezed your ass almost painfully, causing you to whimper. Before you could open your mouth again, he pushed his cock in, sheathing completely in one thrust.

A cry left you as he pulled back, and began fucking you with a fierce speed, your cunt barely stretched and ready. You let out a series of sharp moans, his cock angled and hitting that spot inside your pussy just right. “O-o-oh my g-god,” you gasped, beginning to lose your breath as the pleasure was building incredibly fast.

“You’re so cute- ah, thinkin’ you can sneak up on me. Like I didn’t hear you the moment you pulled in.” His hips snapped against your ass, your eyes rolling back as his cock drilled so hard into you, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot over and over.

“S-Si-Si-Simon-,” you squeaked with every thrust, struggling to say his name in one breath, the pleasure drowning you and pulling you down into dark depths.

He slammed into you with such drive and force that you couldn’t seem to even let out a moan, as well as barely breathe. It was teetering so dangerously close where you would be begging him to finish. Your body was flushed, covered with a film of a sweat, and your hair stuck to your face and neck.

You felt your orgasm heating up so heavy that when it started to approach, it was rushing in like a bullet train. Your nails dug at the fabric of the couch as you buried your face in.

“Oh, no, no,” Simon growled, his hand gripping into your hair and pulling your face up and to the side to make you look at him, “you’re gonna look at me while I make you cum.” He demanded, your eyes half-lidded. You barely processed what he said, because your cunt constricted and the raging impact of your orgasm stalled the breath in your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growled, “c’mon, baby.”

You fought the need for your eyes to roll back, straining to keep your gaze on him as you felt like your soul was imploding. “F-fuck, Simon!” You finally cried out, your moans pouring from you.

“Thaaat’s it, hah, that’s a good fuckin’ girl.” His voice was a harsh purr in your ear as he continued to fuck you through your insanity.

Simon briefly pulled out of you, a groan of disappointment ripped from you at the sudden absence of being filled. He flipped you over onto your back, your legs resting on his thighs and hands finding their way to his back.

Simon’s cock sunk into you, pushing through your still clamped walls, causing you to cry out, nails beginning to dig into the flesh on his back. He let out a very rare moan, hips slapping loudly against yours. “Ah, I wanna see your pretty face when I cum, Y/N.”

He moved your hair away from your face, watching you pant sharply as he put his thumb in your mouth. He pressed his thumb down onto your tongue, his index finger hooked and holding your chin. Simon held your mouth open, your gasps and moans falling out of you.

His hips began to lose a rhythm and his cock was hitting you harder. His hand fell from your mouth to grip the couch tightly, as if holding on. You cried out at his out of sync pace, nails pulling across his back at how overwhelmingly relentless he was, and you were close to tapping out. “Hah, ah, f-fuck, Y/N.” His voice was strained, struggling, just before he let out a harsh groan.

Simon’s hips crashed into yours once more, his cock pressed tightly against your cervix. You felt his cum pushing and filling you, causing you to shiver and let out a small whimper. He panted heavily above you, his cock still twitching inside your hole, making sure every last drop was nestled deep in your cunt.

And there he kneeled above you, dominant, protective. Simon loosened his grip from the couch, pushing hair away from your face. Half of his face was illuminated from the television, and he took a moment to watch you, flushed, sweaty, hot. He smiled softly, leaning in and giving you a deep kiss as he slid his softening cock out. You sighed into the kiss as he pulled away, his cum immediately beginning to bead out of your hole. He popped his sweatpants and underwear band up back over his hips. He leaned on his heel, his hands resting on the tops of your thighs.

“So all I learned tonight is to just break in.” You stated, causing him to chuckle, a hand rubbing your leg lightly. “Alternatively,” you started, letting the thought simmer aloud, “you could break in.”

He smirked and cocked his head. “And what’re you gonna do to stop me, love?”

“Nothing.”

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 18 The Secret Passage

Ok so I feel kinda crappy bc of vaccines atm so I don't love this episode :'DD

It will be better next time I swear hope

BUT I'm drawing again and it's not fantastic but I'm trying and yayy!!

Baby raspbery for no reason

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Logico slowly creeps into the brick passageway. It’s very dark… how shocking. Logico has a heart attack when he crashes into a fluffy figure!!

AUBERGINE: Hey… SHORT KING!!

Bare lightbulbs in the ceiling flicker on. Aubz picks up and squeezes the Gico multiple times. He screams so loud!

LOGICO: OH!!!! ABSOLUTELY not! My god! What the fuck are you doing in this tunnel?? AUBERGINE: Beats me, Lodge. Ask them!

Mauve!!

MAUVE: D- LOGICO: NO. MAUVE: You interrupted me. Don’t bother with asking about my Metaverse, because you’re gonna be able to live it soon enough. TEKTOPIA BABAAAAAY!!

Past Mauve is Porpoise, that creepy priest from the fireworks show. He growls slowly as Logico walks by. Then, in the side, there’s an empty brick room with nothing but a drain on the floor - and a body!

LOGICO: That’s literally the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen.

He can feel the dark secret creeping up on the back of his heart. As he looks around in what little space there is, the suspects shuffle. Aubergine is backed up right against Porpoise.

AUBERGINE: Hhhhhh… can I help you?! PORPOISE: You ran into ME. AUBERGINE: There’s no room to run in here, go away!

Porpoise croaks (as in, makes a frog sound). That’s enough to make Aubz cower. Logico goes to comfort her. 

AUBERGINE: I’M NOT SCARED OF YOU!! 

She swings her knife at him. He backs against a wall, and is met with a demonic creature with three glowing eyes!!

LOGICO: [screams and falls over] MAUVE: Aaaaahahahaaa. LOGICO: NONE OF YOU ARE HELPING, WILL YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!

Irratino wants to help! He does a marot reading. But there is no way for him to reach Logico. (Guess he forgot how to text.)

But Logico realizes the error of his ways.

LOGICO: I’m sorry for snapping. AUBERGINE: Bruh you didn’t… you didn’t even do anything. LOGICO: I KNOW.  AUBERGINE: ??? MAUVE: Hey. [quietly] We haven’t talked since the inspector died. You’re… doing okay, right?

Logico tenses. Why would she bring that up?

LOGICO: Please. Stop talking. 

Mauve droops her ears and snuggles into Aubergine. Logico can see how worried they are for him. Why?

LOGICO: Patriarch Porpoise. He… is the murderer. AUBERGINE: HA, I KNEW IT!

Porpoise lunges with a roar! Aubergine screams, but Logico punches the narwhal in the schnoz. 

LOGICO: Go! GO!

Aubergine and Mauve scurry out as Porpoise lays dazed. Logico reaches the giant iron door at the back of the room, and uses all his strength to open it. But he takes a deep breath before he looks.

The end!

My brain was fried at the time I wrote this and there was also one of my favorite shows playing at the same time rip

I'll try harder next time :'DD

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[crystalflygeo]

“…. that’s weird.”

meirin stared at the sigil of permission clutched in her hands, before looking up at the clear sky outside the window, as if it would yield the answer she was looking for.

is it because i have to be closer to liyue? no, she said she should be able to hear me from basically anywhere…

her hands straightened the talisman before closing her eyes. the smell of incense burning in the small censer wafted in the air, calming and sharpening one’s focus in their prayers.

“can you hear me? spring bringer, the doe of the geo archon’s eyes. the dream walker, the one who travels through dreams… my dear friend, this humble mortal requests for your aid.”

…

…

silence.

is she busy? no… even if she is, she would usually give me a sign—

CRASH!

the woman jolted, knees bumping hard against the table and sending the gold-lined censer toppling over. cursing under her breath, she straightened the item before limping a tad towards the direction of the kitchen, her knees throbbing from the impact caused by her reflexes.

“haitham, you okay??”

arriving at the scene, she saw the remnants of broken glass and coffee spilled all over the wooden floor. she stared in both worry and amusement at the way her lover glared at the cupholder in his hand, which clearly had failed its job in holding the now-shattered cup.

normally, she would be in a teasing mood, seeing the man so sulky without his coffee, but this time, dread settled at the bottom of her stomach.

what a bad omen, her mother would usually say in situation like these. by no means the young woman was a superstitious person — but this, coupled with how her friend wasn’t answering…

“babe.”

she received an irate grumble as the man stepped back from the mess to fetch the trash bin, “no, there’s no coffee left. i’ll have to brew you a new one.”

“that’s not it. let’s go to liyue.”

“….. provide a reasonable reason for me to write on my day off request.”

“you’re smarter than me. use your brain,” the woman tapped her index finger on her temple, grinning a little when he narrowed his eyes at her at the gesture she copied from him effortlessly, “anyway. liyue, tomorrow. get packing. we’re visiting my friend.”

i just hope she’s okay…

It must have made for an interesting sight, a handsome young man dressed in traditional Inazuman clothes, katana at his hip, walking side by side with a deer almost his size, with fur a soft brown, white and gold.

Together they trekked along Byakko plains, crossing streams and climbing small rocky hills, occasionally chatting but focusing on their goal of reaching Ritou. Foxes were common in the area and they stared at Crys with a mix of confusion and predatorial glee. It unnerved her a little, but mostly insulted her.

Crys had obviously not had a pleasant sleep but still felt well-rested enough from her previous time unconscious, if anything she was feeling rather restless and anxious, wracking her brain for answers to questions that seemed weirder and weirder still.

They rounded Konda village, not wanting to attract attention given Crys’… peculiar appearance, but set camp not too far away to eat something. Kazuha managing a quick trip to the village to exchange or buy some ingredients.

“They had some grain and um… vegetables? Not sure what you’d prefer.” He tells her rummaging a little bag, placing down a couple of small bowls as well.

She peeked at him. “What is that? Oh, more fried fish? Smells delicious, I love seafood!”

Kazuha blinked at her. He supposed it made sense, she’s no common deer...

They settle for lunch under a small low tree and thick shrubs, shielding them from the sun and from any traveler’s gaze. “So, you eat meat?” He asks. “Forgive me for assuming but I thought…”

“Don’t worry, I… actually do hehe. Though of course I wouldn’t touch venison.” She shivers.

“Venison?”

“Deer meat.”

“Ah.”

Her ears droop. “Mn, once when I was in Fontaine for some business dinner, we got served that since the staff hadn’t been announced beforehand. I was horrified and-”

She stops. Her new little teardrop pendant glows.

Kazuha stares at her. “Something wrong?”

“I remembered that… but then I… forgot.” She frowns. “His name… someone important was there with me. He…h-he’s…” Her voice breaks a little, the ever-present echo dimming down to a soft voice. The varunada lazurite dims just as well.

“It’s okay, take it easy, you remembered something at least. Little by little they’ll come to you, I’m sure.”

Crys shifts her eyes away, a little sad.

Kazuha does not like seeing her dejected demeanor.

He tidies things up a little and rests against the tree, pulling out a leaf, analyzing and folding it with precision before taking it to his lips.

And as he blows, a soft tune flows.

Crys stares at him for a moment and relaxes. Her eyes close and she breathes slow and calm. Maybe he’s right. Let the answers come to you… relax and empty your mind.

Don’t worry.

Everything will be fine.

Your friends, your loved ones, those important to you…

...

.......

...

The █ne who t█avels th█ou█h dream█…

My de█r frie█d…

Can you hear me?

Spring Bringer.

Once again, she breaks out of her trance with a startle “Spring Bringer!” She exclaims.

“Oh?” Kazuha stares at her. “What is-”

“That’s my name! That’s one of my names! Kazuha you were right!” She skips happily, rearing on her back hooves as if jumping for joy. “That is my adeptus name, it was bestowed upon me millennia ago.”

“It’s a beautiful name, very fitting.” Kazuha smiles softly, genuinely glad and happy for her.

“I am Spring Bringer! And I will make my master proud!”

"Loyalty and resilience... those are your marks, my dear Spring Bringer. You make us all proud."

“I-I cleared my mind and… and a friend was calling for me.” She calms down, panting. “She’s worried… oh no they're all worried for me...”

“Well I’d say we’re one step closer… both figuratively and literally, we can reach Ritou in a few hours if you’re up to it.”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

How strange….

It’s like I feel my powers returning, my memories…

As if part of me was back in place, fitting like a puzzle piece.

But there are still more questions…

A story woven in the breeze The doe skips, her name sings As told by the tune of leaves

@i23kazu ebg Jan 19-26

[dumbpaperbagface]

Some more of the Kat sans thingy I made lmao

its pretty bad but i dont really care this whole thing is literally a s!post lmao

Some concepts that i thought of

Kat wears cat slippers, enough said.  

KAT HAS THE UWU FACE AS A NATURAL EXPRESSION YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE

Kat’s eyes differ between two colors, mainly magenta or blue. Most of the time its magenta cuz reasons

Old concept design was that Kat would just wear the normal sans hoodie but with her color, and in the genocide run she would wear the papyrus scarf, I just really like the angst ideas that would come with it

New concept design is that she wears a winter jacket with her number on the side and it never really changes during the genocide run, it just looks cooler and more badass

The attacks are pretty simple, an axe, giant hands, exploding flowers and arms

I call this attack “Axe-idents”. The axes play like the gaster blaster attack that sans uses.

Next one is “Rose bursts” its basically where a giant rose comes in and explodes into tiny petals that the player has to avoid, Its kinda like Asriel’s giant star attack.

My favorite attack is probably “Catch these hands” basically just a bunch of platforms with walls in between and you have to hide from the hands with the walls.

and this attack i call “poorly drawn arms.jpeg” its basically like the bone attacks that sans uses except with arms. 

BONUS STUFF WOAH

this was just an old thing i made cuz its pretty fun drawing in ms paint

okay if youve gotten this far, thank you cuz i actually try to put effort into this shit, youre probably bored out of your mind trying to get through this lmao

What happens if you spare Kat Sans

You’ve been fighting Katherine for awhile now, when she stops her attacks and tries to catch her breath

She’s sparing you.

You spare her.

She looks surprised and relieved

“Finally...”

“Buddy. Pal. I know how hard it must be to make that choice, to go back on everything you’ve worked up to.”

“I want you to know. I wont let it go to waste... C’mere pal” Katherine opens her arms

You decide to accept the hug. Something is wrong... You can’t move.

You look down and see arms clinging onto you, restricting your movement.

You cant help but feel helpless, you start crying.

You look back at Katherine... U h  o h 

She chuckles for a bit, turns around and silently walks away.

as she walks near the end of the corridor, the hands squeeze tighter and tighter, making you slowly drift into unconsciousness.

Katherine stops for a moment. She turns her head a bit and says

Suddenly, the hands start bending your body like a ruler.

and the last thing you hear is

as soon as she snaps her fingers, darkness consumes your vision dragging you back into the game over screen

instead of the usual encouraging message it just had

“You’re a fucking dumbass, you know that?”

“If we’re actually friends, you would never ever show your face ever again’

Also, if you wanted a visual on what it was like when kat was just walking at the end of the corridor, here it is

[kenmei]

-ˏˋ FALLING IN LOVE (ALL OVER AGAIN)! ˊˎ-

♡ gn!reader x various

characters: suna rintarou, miya atsumu, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei

cw: fluff fluff fluff, domestic fluff!!, comfort. timeskip!au

synopsis: big and bad until they’re with you<3

wc: 650+ (189, 138, 155, 200)

notes from mei!

only bc my brain is so fried i cant write a proper fic</3

suna rintarou

he knows you don’t really want to be here. even if it’s a party with everyone you’re familiar with, rin knows you’d much rather be at home.

it’s not like you’re uninterested or anything like that; you’re just way too tired—too drained to keep a conversation going, simply sitting at the end of the couch with a dazed look in your eyes.

suna knows he also should’ve just made you stay at home. even when you said you’d go anyway, because maybe seeing your friends would lift the fatigue sitting heavy on your shoulders, but he of all people should’ve known that you just don’t want to let anyone down by not showing up.

(he wishes you’d be a little more selfish).

he sinks into the spot next to you, attentive to your every move.

you smile. “hi.”

“let’s go home.” he says, eyes loosing their usual sharpness as he gazes at you.

you furrow your brows, eyes darting between him and the others scattered across the room. “now? we just got here.”

rin shrugs, he doesn’t care about these people. he cares about you.

“i’ll make somethin’ up.”

miya atsumu

he always reminds you how lovesick you make him. without fail, every morning, atsumu is waking you up by leaving kisses all over your face, telling you how much he adores you because he just really wants to drill it into your head.

“yer so cute with yer crusty eyes and drool on ya chin.” he teases, cooing at your tired complaints. “makes me happy that ya sleep so nice with me.”

“shut up, ‘tsumu,” you mumble, half asleep and cheeks heating up from embarrassment. you opt to turn around, but he has other plans.

arms circling around your waist, he pulls you into his chest, brushing the hair from your forehead away as his eyes become hearts.

he mutters something you don’t catch, so you crack one eye open. “hm?”

he kisses your nose, cheeks red. “nothin’.”

iwaizumi hajime

hajime’s eyes soften when he comes home to you curled up on the couch, mouth ajar as soft snores fill the room.

really, he wonders why you still do this even if when he’s told you so many times to not. he’d much rather see you asleep in a bed, rather than you obscurely curled up on the couch, waiting for him.

he sits on the floor, in front of you.

“why are you so stubborn?” he mumbles, eyes drooping with fatigue but still holding the tenderness his gaze harbours only for you.

hand caressing your cheek, you subconsciously lean into it and he quite literally feels his heart melt.

for a man with many edges, you really do soften him up. he’s uncharacteristically gentle when it comes to you, but you argue that he’s just a secret softie.

“haji?” you murmur, stirring awake.

“hey,” he whispers, thumb caressing your cheek, “let’s go to bed, baby.”

tsukishima kei

his lips brush over your forehead, arms keeping you pressed against him as he silently reminds you that you’ll always be his main priority, no matter how late he comes home or how early he leaves, he wants you to remember that his mind really is only filled with you.

“i love you.” he mumbles, hand pressing your head into the crook of his neck to hide the blush adorning his cheeks and nose.

“kei,” you whine, trying to wiggle out of his hold, “it’s hot, take the blanket off.”

he rolls his eyes, untangling his arms from you as he turns around, pulling the blanket to his chin, “brat.” he mutters.

he feels you wrap your arms around his middle, pressing yourself against his back. “i love you too, kei, even when you hog the blanket in the middle of the night.”

you tease him and he knows it’s because you’re not so good with words either, so he turns around (not without complaining, of course) and he rolls his eyes again, but you don’t miss the pinkish hues on the tips of his ears. and the way he averts his gaze.

“you’re annoying.”

you grin. “you love it.”

xtra notes from mei!

this was proofread by a half-dead mei (read: not proofread at all oopsies)

[gumnut-logic]

The Mechromancer

There may be more to this.

This started out as an attempt to write something completely different, but it was determined to do this instead. So you have a pile of fishTank, just a different pile than expected.

Warnings for angst, hurt/comfort.

Many thanks to @scribbles97​ @janetm74​ @tsarinatorment​ and @flyboytracy​ for all their help on this one. My brain fried in the middle of it and it is a little odd as a result. These wonderful peeps put up with an extremely whiney Nutty for a few days there so they should be congratulated for not hitting my over the head with something solid :D

I hope you enjoy this anyway.

-o-o-o-

They say mechromancy is born of the Earth, of rock and metal and the energies that drive the planet.

He can feel it.

Feel metal spinning as it is cut and cries out in its making, its shaping, its becoming. It resonates in his soul as he gives birth to a new creation.

He pulls the new shape off the lathe, the smell of hot metal curling in his nostrils. A rough edge catches skin and pricks a scratch.

Red iron smudges grey steel, metal on metal.

Virgil wipes it away with a stained rag and the cog gleams in the light of his workshop.

-o-o-o-

Gordon’s days were grey.

At first, waking was pain and fog. Everything was broken. The fine instrument he had built his body into no longer worked and was little more than a source of ongoing agony.

The doctors were brutally honest. He could not expect more than a life of grey walls and kindly nursing staff for the rest of his life.

That’s if he had one. There was always the opportunity of a sudden infection and an early termination of that agreement.

His family was there.

Always.

Grandma was in charge, no matter what the hospital thought. You didn’t cross his grandmother and survive. The fact there was a looming grey-eyed and very wealthy Jefferson Tracy gave much more weight to Doctor Tracy’s demands.

His father was there.

This was something both expected and unexpected. Father was a very busy man, but each time Gordon woke in those early days, his eyes would clear to find the silver-grey suited millionaire somewhere in the room. He didn’t say much, not being a man to show a great deal of emotion, but the fact he was there and there so often said enough.

Said how dire things really were.

The most consistent presence was Scott, of course. The man’s cane was heard in his sleep. Sometimes Gordon wanted to reach out and shake it from his brother’s grasp and break it in two across his knee.

But it was a fantasy. Because not only did he not have the strength to grab the cane, he no longer had any knees to break anything.

His legs were gone.

The thought flickered through his mind and he shied away.

Alan…Alan tried to cheer him up while trying not to cry himself. It was heartbreaking.

John reached out to brush fingers through his hair, a single tear falling unacknowledged down his cheek.

Gordon was in so much pain himself and yet also the cause of so much more. It tore at his heart.

Had his sole purpose in life been reduced to a bane on his family?

And Virgil…

He dreamt of his brother. His loving and gentle mechanic brother.

But he never saw him.

In the early days after Gordon had first opened his eyes after the accident, he had asked after Virgil. Scott’s eyes had been full of…something. His eldest brother always kept up his military stance, hiding his true thoughts should they present a vulnerability and those defences were ever so thick at the mere mention of Virgil.

Even in his bleary, pain-filled state, Gordon sensed there was something wrong, but he didn’t have the strength to pursue the question.

His days were awash with painkilling concoctions of his grandmother’s recommendations that took his mind along with the pain. Distorted versions of both his father and Scott were his earliest memories after the accident.

And the dreams…a sense of heat, holding him down, burning, preventing his escape. His own fear overlapped by someone else’s desperation and panic. Flame burning down his nerve endings demanding he stay.

Stay.

Whispers in his mother’s voice.

Denial and determination.

Ever so hot and hurting.

They always ended in such a flare of light and sound, he woke up yelling.

And Scott would be there. Words of reassurance and love.

Gordon always asked for Virgil after the dreams. They meant something, he was sure of it and they had something to do with Virgil.

And Scott never quite answered.

-o-o-o-

He stokes the fire to exactly the right temperature, the coals glowing eye-blinding white, forcing his goggles onto his eyes. His skin pricks with the heat.

Cahelium requires it.

Metal hits flame in a shower of sparks and sucks up the energy, shining as brightly as the sun. He feels it breathe in, draw in the life-giving energy of creation.

His hammer shapes with each strike, the metal thinning as he bends it to his will. Muscles flexing as he swings, the energy of his body fighting, forcing form.

Sweat trickles down his brow as he frowns with the effort. His leather apron protects his vulnerable body, but the sparks still sneak through to embed in the bare skin of his arms and burn holes in his shirt.

He doesn’t care. He can feel the metal with his mind and it is becoming.

Scars in the making only record the process.

-o-o-o-

Days turn into weeks and still Virgil didn’t appear.

Scott had excuses but none of them rang true. Gordon created all kinds of scenarios in his head. Maybe Virgil was injured. Or sick. Maybe he had died. All of the above terrified him until one day while they were alone, he yelled at his big brother, demanding to know.

Only then did he get to see Virgil.

Scott wheeled him in.

Gordon stared. His engineer brother looked terrible.

“W-what happened?”

Virgil’s hands were swaddled in bandages and he was literally wilting in the chair. “Hey, Gords.” His eyelids were drooping.

Gordon looked up at Scott and his big brother’s eyes dropped to the floor.

“What happened?!” His body was busted but there was nothing wrong with his brain bar the concoctions they kept stabbing him with.

Virgil reached over and lay a bandaged hand on Gordon’s chest. “I’m well. I promise.”

“You look awful, Virg. What happened to your hands?” He stared at the swathed fingers on his broken body. Virgil’s magic fingers. His eyes widened, dreams and reality suddenly merging. “What did you do?!”

“Gordon…” His name was weariness itself, his brother’s usual baritone barely there. “You were dying. I had to.”

Gordon’s eyes shot to his brother’s bloodshot brown, so like his own. “You fix machines.”

“The human body is only another type of machine.”

“You fixed me?”

Virgil shook his head, his eyes closing. Scott, who had remained silent, knelt down beside the engineer in his chair and placed an arm around Virgil’s shoulders.

Virgil’s hand was still on Gordon’s chest. He fought with the sudden need to want it gone, yet desperately wanted to hold it in his own.

He settled for slowly, ever so slowly moving his right hand to land on top of Virgil’s as gently as he could.

“What did you do?”

“I fixed enough.” An exhausted exhale. “Just enough.”

“What has it done to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. You look half dead.”

Virgil closed his eyes again. “I am well, Gordon. Don’t worry about it.”

Gordon turned to Scott, whose eyes again dropped to the floor. His big brother swallowed.

Back to Virgil. “You are a pathetic liar. You know that.”

Virgil’s eyes joined Scott’s on the floor. “I’m sorry, Gordon.”

“What?! It’s obvious that you foolishly did something that might have saved my ass, but trashed yours. Scott, tell me! What the hell did he do to himself?”

Virgil straightened up and a more familiar fire flared. “I did what had to be done. And I would do it again.”

“Then why the hell are you apologising?”

Virgil shrunk back and shook his head, but didn’t say anything further. If anything, he wilted in his chair further.

“Virgil…” It was an exhalation of his brother’s name. His eyes darted again to Scott seeking answers. His eldest brother still had a protective arm around Virgil’s shoulders. Whatever had happened, chances were it was bad.

Blue eyes looked up and caught Gordon’s. Scott’s lips thinned and his jaw tightened.

Very bad.

Virgil’s hand on Gordon’s chest was trembling.

“Tell me you will be well.” He begged Virgil to look at him so he could see the truth.

As if summoned, that dark-haired head rose, bloodshot, brown eyes caught his. “I will.” A swallow. “I promise.”

“And your hands?”

“They will heal.”

“And be as they were?” Please.

“They will heal.” It was a repetition, almost a self-reassurance.

Gordon swallowed hard, almost terrified to look beneath those bandages to discover exactly what his brother had done trying to ‘fix’ Gordon’s machine.

Virgil was suddenly pushing himself to his feet. Scott hurried to steady him. “Virgil, what are you doing?”

But their brother didn’t answer. He took a shaky step towards the bed and, leaning over, wrapped his arms as best he could around Gordon without disturbing him. “So good to see you, Fish.” There was an emotional shake in his voice and that tremble in his hand proved to be system wide.

Gordon lifted one hand the best he could and rested his temple against Virgil’s. “Glad to be here.” His voice was suddenly hoarse. “Thank you.”

There was a muffled sound in Gordon’s pillow he couldn’t identify. Then  a rough, but firm, “Anytime.” Virgil shifted and pushed himself up a little, enough to catch Gordon’s eyes. “Anytime.”

And Scott was hauling Virgil up and back into his chair.

Gordon didn’t want his brother to go, but the man was sagging where he sat, alarming Gordon even more. A glance at Scott and he encountered that same worry there.

“Time to go back to bed, Virgil.” Their eldest brother secured him in the chair and unlatched the brakes.

If Gordon could have, he would have stretched out his arm. “Be well, Virgil.”

His weary brother nodded once and Scott pushed him out the door, leaving Gordon to stare at where his brother had been and what he had done.

-o-o-o-

He lines up the fine golden metal cladding and, with a punch he cast himself, embosses a detailed etch of an octopus into the hot cahelium-brass.

Beside it, he chooses to place a shark, its fins a sharp dent in the metal.

His breath is evaporated as he peers closely before punching in a twirled sea shell.

His fingers ache to touch the metal.

On the desk beside him lays the mechanisms. Setting the section of the cladding aside to cool, he returns to the final touches, the fine tuning of the gears and the delicate gyroscopes that will balance movement.

His fingers flicker as he reaches for information.

There is a thin screwdriver in his mouth, held across his lips as his hands correct and make minor adjustments. The metal tastes like possibilities.

His fingers twitch. There is still stiffness in his skin. They remember the feel of his brother’s broken body. Feel what was being lost.

What he was losing.

The heat needed to forge, to fix, had been unbearable, and it took from him, so much.

Now he is different. Part of him is with his brother, keeping him alive, like a donation of a body part. A donation of part of his soul.

Given willingly.

Virgil sighs and returns to the forge to shape more cladding.

The metal is warm under his fingertips.

-o-o-o-

 FIN?

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith // spencer reid - chapter 2

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

word count: 3.5k

masterlist

Richard Slessman's bedroom looks like something straight out of a serial killer documentary. floral wallpaper taunts Morgan and I as we walk inside. a model airplane hangs above his bed; cheap medals-- the kind kids get for participation-- decorate the area above his desk, which is littered with books about forensics. there's a carousel of CDs, too.

"whoa." is my brilliant analysis.

"we should have Garcia check out this guy's laptop." Morgan starts to wander around the room, trying to piece together Slessman's head just by examining his things. a group of cops are already huddled at the table with the laptop open, and I realize too late what they're doing.

"log in password." one of them plucks a post-it off the screen, starts to type it in.

"wait, wait--" Morgan and I nearly lunge toward them, but the crackling sound of a fizzing motherboard tells me we're too late. the screen goes black.

"it's not turning back on." Genius #1 observes. Morgan sighs and squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.

"yeah, and it won't. it's a false password."

the cops stare up at us blankly.

"it triggers a complete shut down of his system." I clarify. they share a look, deservedly feeling stupid. I want to roll my eyes, but Morgan's told me that the police on these cases get defensive most of the time; they don't like us on their turf. one glance from my partner, though, and those guys flee the room without another word.

I pull out my phone and dial Garcia's number in the hopes that she can salvage whatever's left of this asshole's computer. we arrested him an hour ago and we can only hold him with probable cause because we don't have any charges yet. this house search could be our only chance to get him in custody.

"well hello, my fresh-faced beauty queen." Penelope answers on the second ring. a slight smile turns up the corners of my mouth.

"hi, Penelope." I watch Derek plugging something into the laptop, then opening another monitor next to it. "listen, Morgan's trying to set up Richard Slessman's computer and I was wondering if you'd be able to hack into it."

"oh, kitten," she sighs contentedly. "that's my bread and butter."

"great. I'm putting you on speaker." I press a button and wait for Morgan to talk. he's typing furiously until a tab pops up with the words "Deadbolt Defense" in bold above a box for a password.

"what's the six at the bottom of the screen mean?" I ask.

"remaining password attempts until it wipes the hard drive." Morgan replies. shit.

"Penelope, there might be a journal or document or something that tells us where Heather is." I inform her.

"what system are we talking?" she asks.

"Deadbolt Defense?"

"Deadbolt is the number one crack-resistant software out there, hon. you're gonna need to get inside this guy's head for the password."

my heart sinks. when my colleague double takes, it makes me think that this is a rare occurrence.

"babygirl, are you serious?" Morgan complains. my shoulders droop. Penelope has been nothing short of genius since I got here. slicing through sealed files and unfurling secret criminal records is always ridiculously easy for her.

"sorry, handsome."

"thanks anyway." I hang up and shove my phone into my back pocket. "so... what now?"

"now," Morgan takes another look around the room. "we get creative."

...

somehow, I wind up in the attic. I don't really know how this happens, seeing as I started by flipping through discs in Slessman's weird quasi-childlike bedroom, but it's certainly an interesting space. Christmas lights are strung about, along with some shawl-like material that drapes raw ceiling.

the laptop sits in front of me, password cursor blinking mockingly while I sit in the chair. my head is aching. despite having the unit go through every single one of the CDs in search of the most-played one (hoping it'll crack the password), there's been nothing.

at least there have been other successes since we got here: we know that Slessman isn't operating on his own. he's the submissive in a partnership with Timothy Vogel, a prison guard where he was incarcerated a while back. the problem is that Vogel was onto us and fled to the kidnapping site, which we can't find. I feel useless sitting here with nothing to offer.

I consider going back downstairs and perusing the room again when I hear footsteps on the stairs. Reid's head pops into the room, spinning a bent paper clip between his fingers.

"hey." I greet curiously.

"I've been thinking about the CDs." he responds, walking over to me. I rub the heels of my hands against my eyes.

"we tried it, Reid. there's nothing there," I slam my back to the cushions with an exasperated groan. "if we don't find something, this girl is dead."

instead of replying, Reid bends down next to the laptop in front of me, squinting at the DVD slot in the side. he pokes the end of his bent paper clip into the small opening.

"I think we may have missed the obvious." he murmurs, working diligently. I scowl.

"what do you--?" in response to my question, the DVD slot pops open and out slides a copy of a Metallica CD. Reid and I look at each other with wide eyes before I snatch the disc out of of the computer and stare at it. "what made you think of this?"

"it was the only empty case." he shrugs. I grin at him.

"okay, okay," we still don't have the password. I read the cover of the case he hands me. "I'm an insomniac who listens to Metallica to fall asleep. what song would make me do that?"

Spencer frowns, grabs the thing back from my hands, and scans the track list within the span of a second.

"'Enter Sandman'." he says. I watch the puzzle pieces fall into place in his brain, those lips parting with a slight smile playing at the edges. his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

"you are a national treasure." I type like the wind, unlocking the screen and immediately digging into his files. Spencer peers over my shoulder as we search for any indication of Heather's location.

"fucking bingo." I mutter when a video feed pops up. it's black-and-white, showing a crate in the corner of the room with a light hanging above it. Heather's inside, eyes duct taped and hands tied in front of her.

Spencer is already dialing Hotch's number. the blood drains from my face as I watch her trying to breathe through the gag in her mouth.

nothing in the feed is helpful in terms of finding out where she is. it's a nondescript room with wooden floors, mostly shrouded in darkness except for the light hanging overhead.

"wait a minute." I pause what I'm doing.

"hm?" Reid asks. I hit a few keys, trying something.

"I'm lining up the last twelve images." I explain as he watches me work. the photos sit in a grid on the screen, causing my heart to stop in my chest when I notice what I've been meaning to find. "look at the light."

"it's shifting positions like it's swaying," he notices. "like the earth is tilting."

"the ocean." I nod. we share another glance, both of our hearts hammering. we're so close to solving this, I can feel it in my chest. "we need to tell Hotch. find out if there are any piers or docks near here. there's no way he could get the webcam image from the middle of the ocean."

Reid nods, runs downstairs as fast as he possibly can. when he goes, I notice the board in the corner of the room: Go, mid-game. I've never learned how to play.

...

by the time I get back to my apartment that night, my limbs feel like jello. I collapse into the chair by my door and rub my eyes again. my head is still pounding now that the adrenaline rush has subsided. we ended up finding Vogel at the docks; Heather is safe. Hotch was shot in the arm, but he'll be fine. and I'm still a little in shock.

I hate the rumble of my stomach as I realize I haven't eaten since this morning. my head was too full of other thoughts to even consider food and after such a long day, I can barely fathom getting up to change into pajamas.

my phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out to see that Garcia texted me.

what are you up to? followed by a series of emojis that make me smile. I sink deeper into the seat before replying.

nothing why?

can I bring over takeout?

I stare at the message for a second with surprise. Garcia is fun and we've had drinks as a team, but I've never hung out with her one-on-one before. I'm curious.

sure. what genre of food should I expect?

Thai. send me your order!

that sounds so good right now, I almost order it myself. part of me is nervous about hanging out with a team member by myself, except she's been so friendly to me. Penelope was the first person to make me feel at home, aside from Prentiss.

I wait patiently for her to arrive, watching some TV and working my way through some leftover paperwork. my thoughts are everywhere right now, but when she tells me she's downstairs, I try to put it all out of my mind.

"hey!" I open the door to see Garcia with an armful of plastic bags.

"I have your curry, and I got chicken satay and spring rolls and fried rice in case you're still hungry." she beams at me. her bracelets make a pleasant clinking noise as she waves the goodies around.

"a woman after my own heart." I smile, stepping aside to let her in. we head upstairs and before long, we're settled on my couch with a full display of food on the coffee table. I heap my plate while she looks around my space.

"this place is so cute!" she says through a bite of spring roll.

"thanks. I've had it for about two years now. that window over there was really the selling point." I point to the enormous view of downtown DC, which is sparkling right now. there's another chair set in front of it, where I sometimes read or nap in my free time.

as we eat, Penelope and I gossip about work and the city and everything else. she's really easy to talk to. when I ask about her life, she doesn't seem guarded at all; unlike a lot of FBI agents I've met, she wears her experiences on her sleeve.

"how are you liking the team so far?" she asks a similar question as I received this morning. I smile to myself before answering truthfully.

"everyone is great. Hotch is kind of terrifying, but I've worked with people like him before." I shrug. he reminds me of one of my old professors: perpetually stoic to the point where he doesn't even seem like a real person. she laughs.

"he's super nice once you get to know him."

"really?" I look up.

"definitely. he's just always got that scowl on his face. don't let it put you off." she pats my hand reassuringly. I sigh, finish chewing my bite. there's been something prodding me since visiting Garcia's tech lair for the first time, when she showed me her collection of puppy calendars and fuzzy pens.

"can I ask you a question?"

"anything, my love." she smiles warmly. I hesitate, hoping I don't ruin the moment somehow.

"how did you get involved in the FBI? you just don't seem very..." my sentence trails off.

"government oriented?" she laughs. "I used to do a lot of hacking in my free time, and I got into some stuff that the government didn't like. and, um-- you know that saying, 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em'?"

I nod.

"it was like that, except they hired me. and I love it." she finishes the last spring roll. I think on this, imagining Penelope doing something so serious that the American government hired her on the spot for her skills. it's interesting.

"so you don't profile at all." I state.

"technically no, but I've picked up a couple things." she smirks.

"oh, yeah? like what?"

"well, it's obvious that you're never home, based on the lack of decoration here." she refers to the mostly blank walls of my apartment. aside from a couple photos of my friends and family, there's not much unique to me. "and you've obviously got a candle addiction." she points to the various spots around the living room, where half-burned pots of wax sit patiently awaiting their next light.

"that's definitely true." I laugh. she gets up and starts to smell the various candles.

"I like this one a lot." she sets down my chai vanilla one. I let her go through my things, despite the fact that Garcia is incredibly reserved about people touching her own little office trinkets. she picks up stray books and memorabilia, occasionally making a comment.

while she does, I finish my curry. I'm way too tired to resist her search, anyway. I'll be curling up in bed soon and praying that tomorrow is a paperwork day. eventually, she settles onto the cushions again.

"you seem tired," she says when she glimpses the dark circles beneath my eyes. "I'll get out of your hair."

"what? oh, I'm sorry." I draw myself up a little more. "this last case just took a lot out of me."

"they all do." she gives me a soft expression, then pats my knee as she stands.

"Penelope." I say as she gathers up her coat and purse.

"yes, darling?"

"thanks. for the food and for coming over." I smile gratefully at her. the tech analyst stands at my door with a look on her face that makes me think we're going to be good friends.

"anytime." she heads out, leaving me on the couch. I stare at the mess of empty takeout boxes that I told her to leave. now that I've eaten, getting up to clean the space is even more difficult. I trudge about the apartment, wash some dishes, and head off to bed.

my body is too exhausted to remember the dreams.

...

"oh my god, I'm so sorry!" I practically sprint into the conference room, swinging my bag down by my feet as I grab the last open chair. JJ is standing at the front of the room with a new case on the screen. everyone stares at me as I settle in. "my train was super delayed."

"everyone is allowed to be late," Hotch barely glances up from the case file. "once."

a chill runs down my spine and my face flushes an embarrassing red as JJ passes me the remaining file. keeping my head down, she notices my discomfort and clears her throat.

"okay, you guys are heading to Arizona today." she clicks a button. some pictures pop up for us to see. "Bradshaw College in Tempe has had six fires in seven months."

it's a video recording of a building from the outside, and two students talking about a fire inside. the camera shifts to show them in their own dorm, examining a strange wet spot leaking into their room. and then one of them catches on fire.

he burns to death on tape. it's jarring, the shrieking noises he lets out as the flames engulf his body. they travel up his legs alarmingly fast, so much so that it's obviously chemical.

"the first fire was in March, the second in May. the third didn't happen until September." JJ explains once the clip is over. "and then two weeks later, there were three that happened in one night."

"he's speeding up." Prentiss observes from her spot next to me.

"82% of arsonists are white males between seventeen and twenty-seven. female arsonists are far less common, with motives usually limited to revenge." Reid sits across the table, adjusting his watch.

I raise my eyebrows at his fact and look more at the crime scene photos. burned flesh is definitely an uncomfortable sight, one that makes my stomach churn.

"sounds like he's a student." Morgan taps his pen against his fingertip and leans back in his chair.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Hotch continues to read the document. "we don't want to rely too much on precedent."

at this, I press my knuckles to my chin and try to think of other suspects. he's obviously doing these during the school year, but that doesn't necessitate that he's a student. he could be working on campus-- a professor, even.

"there's a rapid escalation. he's gone from the damage to a building to something far more satisfying." Morgan closes the file and we all look to Hotch.

"wheels up in thirty." he says. I get up to grab my go-bag and gather some things from my desk, my cheeks burning at the memory of being late again. I've never done that before, but I don't want to start now. maybe it's best if I start coming in early, just in case my train gets delayed again. I can't risk losing this job, or being moved to a different department. it was enough of a hassle switching from sex crimes to the BAU. I really want to settle into this position, and that includes having the unit chief not hate me.

"hey." Prentiss catches my wrist just as I'm hurrying out of the room. I turn to her.

"hi."

"a little birdy told me that you and Reid pretty much single-handedly solved that case yesterday." she smiles.

"oh, no. it wasn't just us." I shake my head.

"quit being modest. nice job." she nudges my shoulder as we walk down the steps to the bullpen. "also, I brought a couple of those horticulture magazines that I told you about. we should read them on the jet."

"no way!" I pause at my desk, grinning.

"one of them has a whole section on caring for orchids."

"orchids?" Morgan overhears her from his desk. he appears deeply concerned with our discussion.

"if you have to ask, you wouldn't understand." she smirks. he turns his attention to me in hopes of a clearer answer.

"it's plant care." my explanation seems to be enough to bore him, however, because he just shrugs and returns to packing his bag up. Emily waves the stack of magazines at me before I head over to her desk.

she doesn't really seem like the type of person to be into it, but when Emily caught sight of the air plants I've got scattered on my desk my first week, we got wrapped up in a conversation about them. there's a special magazine subscription as well that has a bunch of helpful tips about where to buy and how to keep them healthy.

I'm flipping through one of the copies on the way to the elevator, my nose buried in a section about how much to water Hoyas, when Reid and JJ pop in next to me. the blonde is on the phone with someone, presumably the Tempe police. I haven't seen much of her recently-- she's been staying behind for most cases-- but she sends me a sweet smile before returning to her call.

"what are you reading?" Spencer's eyes hungrily run over the paper, as if seeing something he hasn't already absorbed in that big brain is unbearable. his hair is slicked back as usual, and his tie is sort of crooked; he's not aware of it. I hold the material between us so he can take a peek.

"a magazine about plants that Prentiss and I like."

"fascinating. can I see?" he grabs it before I can answer, although I don't think he means to. his fingertip runs down the page quickly, and then he's flipping them like mad, staring at the pictures. my eyes widen at how eager he is; I guess his curiosity is enough to override any awkwardness.

"did you know that owning indoor plants is actually correlated to overall mood improvements?" he asks me once he finishes reading, attention still focused on the back cover. the elevator door to the main level slides open.

"no, but I'm proof of it," I take back the reading material and put it in my bag. we walk out into the lobby. his long legs mean that my pace has to quicken a bit in order to keep up. "something about taking care of them is quite nice. they don't need as much attention as a pet, but they still rely on you."

"interesting." he nods.

"I like to think so."

"maybe I'll get one." he muses more to himself than anyone else. I smile at his open-mindedness, keep my eyes on the tiles we're walking over. maybe he, Prentiss, and I can have our own affinity club. he would become more knowledgeable than both of us combined within the span of a week.

[damnedparker]

velvet and sunshine

pairing: obi-wan x reader (gender neutral, no y/n)

warnings: food mentions, reader is sad, very mild general hurt/comfort

summary: college au. little to no sleep and awful professors have given you quite the day, and you need a nap. preferably in obi-wan's bed.

also posted on ao3

more self-indulgent fluff from me! i’m a one-trick pony! but i was yearning and stressed over college and i’ve screwed up my sleep schedule again so yknow here we are. i hope some of you enjoy my too sweet fluff. i would definitely write a cute little au series of this concept if i had the time <3

Oh, college. The ultimate vehicle of stress.

Your first of two classes you had on Fridays had went absolutely horrid, all on top of the fact you had gotten maybe an hour of sleep the night prior to get the homework due today done. You knew you needed to be better about procrastination, you really knew, but there's only so much blame you can put on your past self before you run out of time to catch up on the work that was stressing you out enough to put it off in the first place.

Your one, single hour of sleep had been at the cost of you having enough time to properly wake up and get ready as usual, so on top of being exhausted, you also had to deal with being around people when you felt more insecure than usual, feeling like a slob and like everyone was judging you for not having your usual makeup or outfit on. It did nothing to help your already miserable mental state.

In your first class, there was a discussion on the work due today, and the professor had taken every shot he could at putting down your contributions and opinions in the assignment. The rest of the class was completely silent as well, not knowing what to say. It was humiliating, and had gone on for around fifteen minutes, which ended up feeling like hours. After finally getting out of that class, you just wanted to curl up in a ditch and cease to exist for a while. But you had another class in around half an hour.

You sighed as you got in line at the campus market, clutching your meager excuse for lunch—some potato chips—in your arms like it was a precious treasure. It wasn’t the most fulfilling lunch, but the campus up-charged on-campus food like crazy, so you didn’t feel like wasting too much of your money on mediocre food. You would just eat later after your next class.

Just as you were imagining the lecture you’d receive from him for your poor nutritional choices, your phone buzzed with a message from your favorite person—Obi-Wan. He had sent you a simple little meme, one of those with a cat surrounded by heart emojis, accompanied with a simple “thinking about you :-).” You smiled and almost felt like crying at how sweet it was, despite this being a daily occurrence from him. That man loved his wholesome memes, and sent them regularly, and you were so thankful. It always made your day better.

But after today? The little spark of happiness didn’t last long.

After paying for your sad excuse of sustenance, you trudged out of the university center, walking slow as can be in the general direction of your next class. You really did not want to go; you could feel the exhaustion creeping up on you and you could tell you’d doze off in class, which was a nightmare waiting to happen. Although you had your best friend, Anakin, to cover for you, since he sat right next to you in that class, you just didn’t feel like dealing with any of it today. None of it.

And with that, you simply turned and started walking towards the edge of campus, toward your safe haven: Obi-Wan and Anakin’s apartment. You lived quite the ways away from campus, much too far to walk, but Obi-Wan and Anakin’s little home was just a block over. Your boyfriend had class for another hour or two, but you really just wanted a place to nap, and you didn’t trust yourself to drive all the way home. You would’ve almost certainly been hanging out with Obi-Wan later tonight anyway, so you figured he wouldn’t mind. You could have him bring you to get your car sometime later.

After some delirious walking, you finally reached the apartment complex, heaving out a sigh once you stepped in the elevator, leaning against the wall as it made its way to the second floor. Your brain was absolutely fried from the lack of sleep, stress, and emotional day you had, and you could feel yourself struggling to hold back tears from the overwhelming mood beginning to take your mind once you arrived and managed a small knock at the door.

“Oh no, is it raining?” Anakin’s brows furrowed once he let you in, figuring you were there to drive him. That’s what you always did when it was raining outside, mostly just so you didn’t have to hear him complain about his clothes being wet during class.

“No, I just- I can’t deal with another class today,” You sighed, setting your bag down by the couch and toeing off your shoes.  “Obi’s not working today, right?”

“No, he should be home after class,” Anakin watched as you rounded the kitchen counter, helping yourself to a glass of water. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just having a day,” you could feel your shoulders hanging, your posture reflecting your mood. “I just need some sleep. I can’t do class the rest of today, sorry to leave you to deal with Windu alone today.” You scrunched your nose in apology, referring to your strict, and often frustrating political science professor. The man was wonderful at lecturing, but absolutely frustrating when it came to assignments and tests. He often liked to pick on Anakin for discussions, and usually you came in to save him when no one else in the class felt like talking.

“Don’t worry about it, I can handle him on my own,” your friend nodded, reaching over to squeeze your arm affectionately. “Enjoy your nap,” he collected his bag and put in an earbud, preparing for the walk to campus. “But do not eat all my snacks like last time. Obi-Wan hates Cheetos, so I know it was you.” He gave you one last playful glare before grinning and shutting the door behind him. You looked down at the counter, now alone in the quiet apartment. You felt safe here, comforted by your best friend and boyfriend’s belongings laying about. It was clear what was Anakin’s and what was Obi-Wan’s, the difference very clearly seen between objects that were tidily tucked in their places, while others were strewn about in random places. You had witnessed many fights between the two adopted brothers over things like this, and sometimes it was a wonder they were able to live alone together at all. Not to say that Anakin hadn’t insinuated you should move in with them multiple times lately, very pointedly looking at Obi-Wan while he did so. Of course you would say yes in a second, but you didn’t want to pressure your boyfriend, who was very careful about big decisions in your relationship. The two of you had been dating for almost a year now, and were practically inseparable, and he was secure in the fact that you both believed there would never be anyone else you could love as much as each other. However, you knew Obi-Wan was a very particular man, and could be somewhat traditional in his courting. You thought it was sweet. Anakin, who was already daydreaming to you about proposing to his own partner, thought it was stupid, saying you already practically live here anyway! He wasn’t totally wrong. At this point, unless Obi-Wan was at yours or you were somewhere with him, you were probably going to be found at their place.

You sighed to yourself, feeling your eyes getting heavy. You were beginning to crash from your many cups of coffee last night. You headed straight for Obi-Wan’s room after locking the front door. His room was always impressively neat, never any clothes on the floor or anything out of place, except momentarily when you had forgotten to put something away or the two of you were in the middle of something. Painted a deep blue, and decorated with various framed posters or art, along with a few framed photos, his room was very simple. It was just the right size for it to be cozy without being suffocating.

You made a pitstop at his closet, pulling a sweater off the very top of his laundry basket, the one he’d worn the day before, along with some pajama shorts you kept in his dresser for impromptu sleepovers. You changed quickly, not keen to sleep in jeans, and also wanting desperately to lay down. You crawled into his bed, snuggling under the sheets and breathing in the scent of him all around you. Sleep came not long after you settled into the blankets.

---

Obi-Wan hummed softly under his breath, a song that you had showed him a few days ago and had subsequently gotten stuck in his head. He smiled to himself as he remembered the overjoyed look on your face when he had told you how much he liked it, fumbling to get his keys out of his pocket and get in his apartment. He paused while he was hanging his jacket up, noting your bag next to the couch, along with the glass on the counter. He furrowed his brows, knowing you had class, and although you certainly had before, you rarely skipped since your professors counted absences against your grade. He dropped his bag next to yours and made his way into his room, shoulders drooping as the weight of worry escaped them. You were curled up in his bed, wearing one of his sweaters, fast asleep. It was an adorable sight, you clutching onto the stuffed bearded dragon you had won out of a claw machine at the mall on your last trip together, whom you had gleefully named Boga as you passed the gift into his arms, insisting it was for him.

Obi-Wan shucked off his pants, leaving him in a t-shirt and his boxers, before sliding in next to you. He watched your eyelashes flutter slightly; clearly you were dreaming. You mumbled something in your sleep, followed by a happy sigh, and another mumble of something that vaguely resembled his name. He could’ve collapsed in on himself from adoration purely aimed at you.Carefully, he reached over to brush a stray hair out of your face, before beginning to press kisses to your skin, first at your jaw, then cheek, forehead, nose. You began to stir at his affections, sleepily blinking open your eyes to your boyfriend smiling at you. He trailed his hand down your arm, intertwining your fingers together as you began to wake up more.

“Hi, Obi.”

“Hello, my love,” he murmured, keeping his voice soft. “Not that I don’t enjoy coming home to you in my bed, but don’t you have class right now?” Your peaceful state from just waking up seemed to crack at his words, and a lump came back to your throat at the return of your sour mood from earlier. His eyebrows furrowed at your immediate change in mood, knowing something was wrong.

“I really couldn’t handle another class today,” you rolled onto your back, moving your joined hands to lay on your stomach. Obi-Wan scooted closer to you, resting his head against his hand, propped up on his elbow as he studied your face. “Sorry, I should’ve texted you to let you know I was going to be here.”

“No apology needed, darling, you’re always welcome here,” he untangled his fingers from yours, beginning to play with your hair as you talked. You could feel tears springing to your eyes from the gentle affection, the simple relief of being around the person you loved most, and his immediate recognition of your need for comfort. Obi-Wan could read your moods almost scarily well, and he almost always knew what you needed from him to make it better. “If you want to talk about what’s made you sad, I’m here to listen. Or we can just have a cuddle and listen to music.” You managed a small smile at his offer. Always so sweet.

“Can I have all of the above?” You turned your head to pout up at him, earning a happy grin and chuckle from your boyfriend.

“Anything for my sweetheart,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, rolling off the bed to retrieve his phone from where he’d set it on his dresser. He shuffled the playlist you had made together one late night on Spotify when you couldn’t sleep, full of relaxing songs that the both of you often drifted off listening to together, since the both of you couldn’t sleep in complete silence. “Now, come here.” He almost jumped back into the bed, immediately pulling you on top of him. Your head fell into its usual spot at his neck, forehead pressed to his pulse point, which was steady and comforting. Obi-Wan wrapped you up in his arms, gentle hands sliding under your— his— sweater, rubbing comforting shapes into your lower back. You hummed contentedly.

“I might fall asleep like this instead.”

“That’s okay, honey,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your head. You let out a soft chuckle as his scruff tickled your forehead. “Now, tell me everything that’s wrong so I can make it better.”

As you began to detail everything that had led you to seek refuge in his bed, Obi-Wan listened patiently, humming affirmations every so often and continuing to trace lines across your back, his sweater now partially pushed up to expose your lower back. The contrast between the slight chill of the open air and his hands was pure heaven. You didn’t know how you were still talking so clearly; half your attention was busy focusing on the slight callouses of his fingertips against your skin. Everything was warm and gentle, swallowing you up in velvet and sunshine. It was an absolute miracle that you didn’t doze off by the time you finished venting, the heavy feeling dragging you down having been lifted just the slightest bit, both by letting it out and by Obi-Wan’s hold.

“That is quite the horrid day, my dear,” he affirmed. “But you made it through, and it’s over now. You’re here and you’re safe, and we can spend the rest of the night doing whatever you like. You can relax.” His arms fully circled your waist then, squeezing you to him affectionately in a hug. “Everything will be better now.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, lifting your head and slightly sitting up from your comfortable position against his chest. Your boyfriend gave you a small smile when your gazes met, leaning into your hand that was now resting against his cheek. “You’re too good for me, Obi.”

“Oh no, I’m afraid it’s the other way around,” he grinned, a bit of pink settling on his cheeks. Crow’s feet became evident around his eyes and you were absolutely crushed by how lucky you are, how much you loved this man. “It’s a privilege just to be able to make you feel better after the awful day you’ve had.” His words were completely genuine, gaze absolutely soft as he looked at you. You could have cried. You don’t know how you didn’t. Obi-Wan seemed to gather this from your long silence, and the slight shift of expression on his face. “Everything alright, angel?”

“Yeah,” you said after a moment, pressing a short, chaste kiss to his lips. He found your hand next to his head, intertwining his fingers with yours. He squeezed your hand and tilted his head in a silent are you sure?  “Everything’s perfect.”

[noona-clock]

Traveling Love (Collab) - Part 4, Final Chapter

Genre: Fluffy/Romantic AU

Pairing: Nam Joo Hyuk x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: None

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, Masterlist | Words: 2,094

A/N: Welcome to the third series in the monthly Love In Fours Ways collab with myself, @jackiejacks923​ @prettywordsyouleft​ & @this-song-thats-only-for-you​ . We have all taken inspiration from 4 illustrations (linked below), and during the last week of the month, we will each be sharing a 4-part mini-series based on those drawings.

Credit to: Puuung - Love Is In The Small Things

Part 4: Tucking Her into a Perfect Sleeping Burrito

You’d never experienced the feeling of Post-Vacation Blues quite as acutely as you were now.

When you’d planned this trip over the last several weeks, you’d had a feeling it was going to be wonderful -- not only because your destination had too many fun and exciting things to do and see and visit and eat, but because you were going with someone you loved. Plus, Joo Hyuk had really needed this vacation.

But you hadn’t been prepared for just how wonderful. 

If you could’ve designed your perfect vacation with no limitations, it wouldn’t have been as perfect as the one you’d just taken with Joo Hyuk. You had absolutely never been on a trip like it, and you would absolutely never go on another trip like it again.

It’s not like you did anything extremely special or note-worthy; you explored the city, you took pictures, you ate delicious food, you saw beautiful scenery. Very typical vacation stuff!

Something about it had just been... special, and no amount of money or planning would ever be able to recreate this past week.

...However.

And you were very reluctant to admit this however, and you certainly wouldn’t admit it out loud to Joo Hyuk.

But. However.

All of the planning and the fact that you’d known how very much Joo Hyuk had needed a break from work had built up quite a bit of pressure for this vacation to be as perfect as it could be.

It had been as perfect as it could be, but perfect never comes easily.

You’d worked hard to help it become perfect, and now that it was all over and you were very soon to arrive back home...

You were feeling it.

All of the work you’d done before the trip, all of the activities you’d checked off during the trip, and the unconscious demand lurking in the back of your head for the trip to be just what Joo Hyuk needed... It was all coming to the tipping point the closer you got to your apartment, and by the time you stepped in through the front door, you felt like you were going to collapse with exhaustion.

“It does feel good to be home, though,” Joo Hyuk said, and his tone made it obvious that hadn’t been the first thing he’d said.

Were you already so tired that you were zoning out and missing full sentences?

“Mm,” you hummed, deciding not to let on that you were kind of about to drop right here on the floor and fall asleep -- that you were so exhausted, you’d completely missed the first part of whatever your boyfriend had said.

“I’m just going to check my email,” Joo Hyuk murmured as you began to lug your suitcase back toward your shared bedroom.

Again, you simply hummed in response -- and that’s how you knew your brain was fried. Joo Hyuk checking his email just after arriving home from vacation should have made you stop and warn him that he at least needed to wait until tomorrow to get back into Work Mode. But, no. You just hummed and trudged through your apartment to go unpack.

When you reached your bedroom, you let your suitcase fall to the floor, and you dropped onto your knees beside it to unzip it.

Your arms felt like lead -- or like they were stuck in Jello -- as you began to take out your clothes and put them in a pile next to you.

If you were in your right mind, you would have taken your suitcase closer to your clothes hamper to cut out the middle man.

But you were, apparently, just too tired to think efficiently at the moment.

Joo Hyuk’s voice suddenly cut through the silence, and you jumped a little --

...Wait.

How had he checked his email so quickly?

And why had his sudden presence startled you that much?

...Had you been --

“Why didn’t you tell me you were that tired?” Joo Hyuk said softly as he crouched down next to you.

Well, then. You had just fallen asleep while unpacking your suitcase.

You knew you were exhausted, but you didn’t realize you were that exhausted.

“Sorry,” you murmured, your brow furrowed as Joo Hyuk reached to pick you up. He slid one arm behind your knees, the other across your back, and stood up to carry you bridal-style to your bed. “I guess it just hit me all at once when we got home.”

“No, don’t apologize,” he replied, carefully leaning over and setting you on top of the bed. “You did a lot of work, and we were pretty busy this whole week. You just get some rest, and I’ll finish unpacking, okay?”

The second your head hit the soft cushion of your pillow, your eyes began to droop. You weren’t sure if you even responded to him, and the last thing you remember was Joo Hyuk reaching for the throw blanket at the end of the bed.

An indeterminate length of time later, the scent of something cooking tickled your nose. You smelled it first before you even blinked your eyes open, but when you did open your eyes, you found that not only had Joo Hyuk covered you with a blanket...

He had wrapped the blanket around you like the tortilla of a burrito.

A smile tugged at your lips, and you nestled into the blanket even further, letting out a soft sigh of contentment.

You were wrapped up in your blanket like a burrito, the apartment smelled like the most delicious dinner was cooking, and you had just taken a much-needed nap.

There was no way you could be even remotely upset right now. Not even the tiniest bit.

With a groan, you began to sit up so you could unroll yourself and make your way to the kitchen. The smell of dinner was just too tempting to resist, and your stomach was on the verge of letting out a rather audible grumble.

But before you could even lift one corner of the blanket around you, you heard footsteps shuffling toward the bedroom. And when your gaze landed on the doorway, you saw Joo Hyuk had appeared gingerly carrying a steaming bowl, his hands covered by your favorite floral pot holders.

You managed to inch up into a seated position by the time he got to the side of the bed, and you asked, “What’s this?”

“I thought I would make you some soup,” he answered, perching on the edge of the mattress and shifting the bowl to cradle it in one hand. After slipping the pot holder from his now free hand, he took the spoon from inside the bowl and dipped it into the soup.

“Babe, you don’t have to feed me,” you chuckled, though you still accepted the spoonful he offered, slurping the soup carefully. Once you’d swallowed it, feeling the comforting warmth sliding down your throat, you added, “I’m not sick! I’m just exhausted.”

Joo Hyuk held out another spoonful of soup for you, waiting until you’d taken it before replying with, “Yeah, but you took care of me this whole week -- and a long time before then, too. It’s time for me to take care of you.”

“I did not take care of you,” you retorted with a soft grin.

“You absolutely did.”

“I just planned our trip! Once we actually got there, we did everything together.”

Your boyfriend let out a soft sigh and leaned over to set the bowl down on the nightstand. “I know, but... I know it hasn’t been easy because I’ve been so stressed out.”

“It really --”

“Just let me finish,” he interrupted, shooting you a playful smirk.

You pressed your lips together and snuggled back into your pillows.

“I know I’m not always the easiest person to live with because I don’t share things easily. Or... at all. Unless you force me to. And no one should have to do that to their partner, so I’m sorry I clam up when I’m stressed. But if it annoys you or worries you, literally no one would know. You either do an amazing job of hiding it or...”

He trailed off, so you took this opportunity to say something.

“Or I just know that’s how you are, and I love you. Unconditionally,” you said quietly.

Yes, sometimes it did annoy you that Joo Hyuk had such a hard time sharing how he felt. Sometimes you did feel like you were nagging him to be more open and forcing him to tell you what emotions he was experiencing.

But... you also understood that emotions can be super tricky. And complicated. And hard to express. Everyone is different, and everyone handles emotions differently. So, if you loved Joo Hyuk unconditionally, you had to accept that he was one of those people who just had a difficult time with them. 

If you didn’t accept that, wouldn’t it be a condition to your love? You only loved him if he expressed his emotions freely?

So, you mustered all your patience and you gave him time. You helped him out as much as you could and stepped away when you felt like you needed to.

Joo Hyuk smiled down at his lap, shaking his head gently. “I... don’t know how I got so lucky finding you, but...” He lifted his gaze, looking at you with more love in his eyes than you really even knew what to do with. “I hope you know how much you mean to me, and that I never want to take you for granted.”

“Of course, I do,” you murmured, finally wriggling your hands free from your blanket burrito so you could cradle his ridiculously handsome face in your palms. “I know you, and I know that you letting me in is just one way you show me that you care. You may not realize it, but you do a lot of little things, and I learned pretty quickly that they all mean you love me.”

Joo Hyuk grinned bashfully, and you leaned in to capture his lips in a brief kiss.

“And I love you, too,” you whispered. “And I really love when you turn me into a blanket burrito and make soup for me, even if I’m not sick.”

Your boyfriend chuckled lightly, his breathy laugh grazing over your lips.

“It’s really good soup, by the way,” you told him as you pulled away and reached for the bowl on the nightstand.

“Thanks,” he replied, setting one of the pot holders in your lap so you could put the bowl there. “I used that cookbook you got me for Christmas last year.”

Your eyes widened, and you beamed over at him. “You did?!” you marveled. “Oh, now I really know you love me.”

“Please don’t take that to mean I want another one this year,” he laughed, shaking his head. “One cookbook is enough.”

“No, you can never have too many cookbooks!” you argued playfully. “Just like you can never have too many blankets.”

“That is also not true. We’re only two people, we can’t use that many --”

“But what if I want to be a different blanket burrito every day of the week?” 

Joo Hyuk quirked a brow at you and opened his mouth to reply... but he stopped himself. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re right,” he mumbled before he got up and headed back out of the bedroom. “You’re right. You always are.”

Rather than crow triumphantly after him, you simply smiled down at your bowl of soup. You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from squealing, and that’s when you knew without a shadow of a doubt that Joo Hyuk would be by your side for as long as you both shall live.

After two years, he could still make you bite your lip and squeal like a young girl with a schoolyard crush. He could still make you smile like a kid on Christmas morning. He could still make your heart and stomach flip just like he could the first time you’d met him.

...I mean, you’d already known he was your Forever, long before this. But you know what I mean. You just knew even more.

At home, on vacation, stressed out, in a blanket burrito, with a bowl of soup, out on the balcony, under the stars...

Whenever, wherever, however -- it didn’t matter.

Forever and ever, even more, he was yours.

[makaylajadewrites]

Spencer whump in the field where they’re in the middle of hicktown USA and there’s no hospital for miles. Spencer is delirious (blood loss, infection, fever, take your pick) and thinks he’s fine. Insert Derek trying to stay strong and not cry cause if he starts crying then Spencer will realize that “oh shit this is bad-“

I can’t think of why or how because my brain is fried rn but I believe in you bestie.

okay yeah this is going to be so bad and it’s also not quite what you asked for since I'm also tired but I'll definitely try for you, love 💖 I hope you like it!

Pairing: Derek Morgan/Spencer Reid

Tags: Whump, angst, blood, ambiguous ending

Word count: 802

To say this was an emergency was an understatement. He didn’t even know where they were, and all he could think about was the fact that Reid was looking paler and paler by the second. There had been a chase, through the woods behind one of the victim’s remote cabins. When they arrived to examine the scene, they hadn’t been expecting to see a man there, a man who they soon realized must have been the unsub. He was revisiting far sooner than they had expected him to. There had been a bit of a struggle, Morgan being thrown onto the dining room table which broke under his weight while Spencer began to chase after him into the woods. Derek was quick to follow, but the sound of a gunshot firing off still rang in Morgan’s ears, as did the sound of his lover collapsing on the forest floor in a heap of long limbs and a muffled cry of pain.

“Spencer!” Derek shouted out in horror, not even concerned about the unsub anymore and quickly dropping to his knees to pull Spencer close, gathering his body in his arms . Blood was already seeping through his grey sweater, the bullet imbedded somewhere in his lower abdomen, and tears burned in his light brown eyes.

“Oh god... You’re okay... You’re okay, baby, you’re okay,” Morgan breathed out as he began to shed himself of his jacket, pressing it down against Spencer’s abdomen to hopefully slow the blood flow. Reid let out a gargled groan, tears falling freely down his cheeks as he gazed up at Derek desperately, whimpering in pain.

“D-Der...” he croaked, a hand lifting upwards, trembling fingers grasping lightly onto the front of Derek’s shirt.

“Shh, shh, don’t talk, just keep looking at me, Spence. Keep those pretty eyes on me, you hear?” Derek said frantically, using one hand to hold against the wound in Reid’s abdomen while he quickly used his other to call for help. By the grace of God alone, he somehow had service, and thankfully he was able to call both emergency services, and Hotch was soon next.

“Hotchner,” he heard when his unit chief answered the phone, and he didn’t respond right away, since the pain on Spencer’s face was enough to distract him. “Morgan? What’s going on?”

He quickly snapped out of his trance, applying more pressure to the wound since blood was already soaking through his jacket. 

“Reid, he was... Reid’s been shot,” he said into the phone, exhaling shakily, “Hotch, man, there’s so much blood... Spencer, just... He ran after him and there was a gunshot and he just...”

“Morgan, Morgan, I need you to calm down and focus on Reid. We’re on our way,” Hotch said, somehow managing to keep his cool through the horror of it all, “Did you call for help?”

“Yes, yes, I called, I just... Spencer... Hotch, I can’t do this without Spencer,” Morgan admitted in a low, unsteady voice, his throat tightening up.

“You won’t have to. Keep him awake, check for an exit wound. We’ll be there soon.”

Morgan did as Hotch said, wasting no time. He quickly rolled Spencer onto his side, murmuring apologies over and over again as he moaned in protest. He felt around his lower back to check for any exit wound, but there was nothing, and he gently moved Spencer back to his former position. 

By then, Spencer’s eyes had fallen shut, and Morgan felt a shiver of horror climb up his spine. “Baby boy, I need you to open your eyes,” he begged him, and Spencer groaned once more, wheezing out a cough as blood flecks dotted his lips. He did so nonetheless, and the pain in his eyes was enough to make Derek feel guilty. But soon, those eyes drooped again, and Derek exhaled out a sob.

“Spencer, please baby, don’t give up on me now,” Derek sobbed, watching as droplets fell to Spencer’s cheeks, quickly realizing that they were his own tears. He couldn’t lose Spencer now... he couldn’t. He was nothing without him - Spencer was all he had. He was fading, right in his arms, Spencer was beginning to fade and slowly, almost in fear of what he would find, his fingers pressed to Spencer’s throat, and he nearly cried out in physical pain when he felt nothing.

He didn’t know when the ambulance got there, but soon, his lover was being ripped from his arms, and Derek cried out his protests, reaching for Spencer’s bloodied form as he was loaded into the back of an ambulance. Another EMT helped Derek to his feet, doing his best to console him. Behind him, Spencer’s blood soaked into the forest ground, and he feared that the forest would have more of Spencer than he ever would again. 

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

We Don’t Know Whats Out There

Description: 

Stiles can't sleep, and if he told enough people that was all it was, maybe he would start to believe it. Still, as tensions were rising about them losing their territory he couldn't bother them with something he didn't even fully understand. Maybe he just needed something fun and easy to help him relax. Like the hot neighbor that he keeps catching staring at him.

Derek can't sleep, and if he cleans his house enough maybe people won't realize how he doesn't care enough to clean up other parts of his life. Still, as he worried about his job and obligations, he couldn't let them down about finding a place they belonged. Maybe he just needed something interesting to keep his mind off of it. Like the clumsy man he can't keep his eyes off of.

This is for @sterek-bingo I used the tags overworked, insomnia, and neighbors. Around 20,000 words.

------------------------------------

Derek threw his keys on the counter and sighed heavily when he heard them clatter to the floor. In the darkness of his apartment with the dull yellow light from the street lamp outside he could see them pathetically on the floor. He decided to leave them as he headed for his bed, it wasn't worth the effort.

He sluggishly took off his uniform. He placed his BHPD badge on his dresser as he yawned. It had been a long day and an even longer and stressful night. He had come in at one on his day off to help out and the next thing he knew he was helping the sheriff track an omega through the woods at one in the morning.

Now two hours later, he was finally able to strip down to his boxers to crawl into bed. He knew he should take a shower, but he was just so tired. The tired that goes right down to your bones.

He laid on his side staring into the darkness.

His cruiser needed a tune up soon. He should have gotten bagels for the morning so the sheriff wouldn't eat the leftover cinnamon rolls in the break room. He needed more coffee grounds soon too.

He turned onto his back and looked at the dark ceiling.

He closed his eyes. He laid in the darkness for several minutes.

He sighed as he whipped the blanket off.

"Tomorrow is going to suck ass." He spoke to the empty room as he swung his legs over the side of his bed.

He padded into the kitchen and turned on the light. He was met with the sight of a mountain of dishes from the previous lasagna night.

A blur of black fur jumped on to the counter.

Derek smiled and reached out to pet it. "Might as well, huh Lucian?"

Both the name and cat came from Cora. She had picked up the cat while traveling and it didn't get along with her beloved dog nor her girlfriend, so it had to go. When she called him to vent about having to bring him to a shelter Derek had immediately volunteered to drive all the way to pick him up.

Lucian meowed loudly in protest as Derek reclaimed his hand to start running the water.

He yawned once again, but knew he wouldn't get any sleep even if he did lay down. He cleaned the dishes as Lucian perched on the breakfast bar with his black tail slowly swishing side to side.

It was a half hour later by the time he had tamed the messy kitchen and only had a few more dishes to do. His shoulders ached and his eyelids drooped, he longed for sleep he knew he wouldn't get anytime soon.

As he let the pans soak, he went around the house collecting dishes.

He had forgotten a plate on the balcony and as he retrieved it, he caught sight of a light on in the apartments across the street. It was a corner apartment like his own, but this one had two windows. One was facing the woods at the back of their buildings, the other faced Derek's balcony and the alley between them. He set the plate down again on the railing as he took in the sight of a man. It looked like a youngish man, late twenties at the oldest, waving his arms around wildly while pacing in front of a desk in the corner of the room that looked out both windows. He was talking so adamantly Derek almost wanted to listen in. He decided against breaking the man's privacy and just watched. The man had a Batman shirt on and what looked to be matching bright yellow booty shorts on.

A small smile found its way to Derek's face.

The man looked to be practically shouting, for a moment Derek was worried he was shouting at someone, but then the man held up a large rubber duck and pointed an accusing finger at it.

Derek let out a full body laugh.

The man threw the duck with a triumphant grin and ran to his desk, which was facing the window Derek was looking in.

It was hard to make out features from across the street, but he could tell the intense concentration as the man tapped his computer keys rapidly.

Suddenly the man tipped his head forward and banged it against his laptop a few times. He leaned his head all the way back with what must've been a long groan.

Derek wanted to bring the man a cup of tea to soothe his frazzled state, and well, if he also wanted to leave a few marks on that long pale bared throat, that was only in his mind. Derek leaned against the railing to settle.

The man finally looked back up at his computer and muttered a few words. He ran his hands through his chestnut hair, making it stick up haphazardly.

Derek wished he could see the man more clearly, be able to see if he had any wrinkles from how expressive he was. See if he looked as rumpled as he seemed. See if those brown eyes looked as enchanting as he felt like they would. If those eyes w-

The eyes that squinted up at him. The eyes that looked directly at Derek.

He quickly stood up nearly knocking the plate over the side, but catching it at the last second.

When he looked back up he could see the man was bright red.

Derek quickly moved to go back inside and fumbled with the door. The stupid latch always stuck so he had to jiggle it for a moment before he could flee into his apartment.

He closed the curtain behind him and let out a breath. His cheeks were hot at being caught.

He quickly shrugged it off and finished the rest of the dishes trying to not think of the man catching him perving.

---

Stiles raced down the sidewalk trying not to bump into people. As he turned a sharp corner he banged his elbow which made him jump back and shove his computer bag into a very unhappy man.

"Solwry." He mumbled around the papers he was currently slobbering on.

He stumbled slightly as he looked down to shove them in his bag. He looked up and nearly was squashed by the door opening in front of him.

"Whoa! Sorry." He gave the exiting couple a nervous wave.

He entered the cafe with panting breath and his computer bag snagged then hit the wall with a bang.

Everyone in the cozy coffee shop looked up at him.

"Sorry!" His eyes scanned the crowd. "Sorry I'm late."

His father looked at him with an exasperated fond look. "Ten minutes Stiles. I only have a thirty minute lunch break."

Stiles scoffed as he sat down in the corner booth. "You're the boss. Who's coming up to you like," His voice went stern and low as he frowned. "You were ten minutes late coming back from your lunch." He added a wag of his finger to be dramatic.

The sheriff laughed. "Hale would. He's about as upright and lawful as they come. He wouldn't be insubordinate, but he would point it out to be a shit. Anyway it's about setting an example."

Stiles rolled his eyes. He'd heard many stories about Hale before. He was glad that his dad had someone like that to watch his back, but he put him up on such a pedestal. Stiles was worried that when they finally did the meeting his dad was pushing for so hard, he would introduce the wrong man as son.

"Yeah well, tell Hale to take that stick out of his ass." Stiles said before gulping down the molten sugary drink before him.

Stiles frowned. "Did you not get my text?"

"I did, but if I can't have fries you can't have a triple shot." His father looked smug until he took in his son's appearance. "Jesus kid! When's the last time you slept?"

"Counting the time I closed my eyes in the shower too long and almost lost my balance?"

His father didn't look impressed.

"I know, I know. I've just got this really big project right now. The client doesn't care when it's done, it's just really frustrating work. There are so many things going wrong that aren't easily fixed, and I can't figure them out. All these little problems keep popping up and as soon as I figure them out I think I can go to sleep, but then something goes wrong and I ca-"

"You can't just leave well enough alone. When there's a problem your brain won't let you sleep till you fix it." He had a faint smile. "Your mom was eight months pregnant when we bought your crib. We got home from the store exhausted, so we said we'd put it together in the morning. When your mother woke up I was passed out on your nursery floor surrounded by the shreds of the directions and your crib looked just like the display. You're so much like her, but you got some things from me."

Stiles smiled at him. "I've never heard that story before."

He shrugged. "That was back when I didn't think that moment would be important. Back when I thought we would have so many more the little ones wouldn't count."

He had that wistful sad look in his eyes, but a smile on his face. Stiles was grateful for how far they had come. Neither of them were able to even mention her for so long, to be talking freely in public meant the world to Stiles.

His father reached a hand across the table and he took it. He looked at him concerned. "Stiles, are you happy?"

Stiles plastered on too wide of a smile. "You don't have to worry about me pops."

He shook his head. "I always worry about you. I know you said you're good at this programming job, but I still think you should give that FBI offer another try. It was your dream job! You could consult from here, while still being in on the big cases. You'd use your education and degree. It was perf-"

Stiles put his hands up with an uneasy look. "I know dad. But I am good at the progra-"

His father cut him off just like he had to him. "I know you're good at it. Hell you're smart enough to be an astrophysicist if you damn well pleased. Stiles you're good at a lot. And anything you aren't, you've got enough drive and brains to keep at it till you are the world's leading expert." His father gave him a considering look and then deflated. "I won't push you on this today, but one of these days you're going to have to tell me what happened. Stiles you were mooning after that job since the end of high school. Then, you were bummed about having to give it up because you had to move home after college to help me and Scott with all the mumbo jumbo. But now, they offered you an at home position and you can't be bothered with it. I just don't understand, hell I don't even know if you do. I just hope you aren't doing this programming thing because for some reason you think you couldn't do what you really want to."

Stiles sighed. That wasn't it, but he was getting closer. Eventually he would have to explain to his dad and Scott what happened, but he'd have to figure it out himself first though.

"I love you for caring, but I can handle it. And I am really good at this, besides Danny's company needed the help." That was true when it started, but now Danny didn't need his help and they both knew it.

"I just want whatever will make you happy." His father squeezed his hand, then let go.

"My work is great for where I'm at right now."

The conversation switched over to the omega Stiles had narrowed down the possible hideouts for as they got their food.

They parted ways with a hug when his father went back to work.

---

Stiles got out his computer and tried to solve the problem he hit the night before.

Thinking back he wondered if he should have mentioned his stalker neighbor to his father. He dismissed the thought with a snort and got to work.

---

Erica's laugh was so loud he had to move the phone away from his ear.

"And you just went inside?"

Derek called her in his patrol car on lunch to try and get rid of the awkwardness of the previous night.

"What else would I have done? Shouted over, 'Hey sorry for watching you for a creepy amount of time. You just looked cute.' No, I fled like a normal person."

She cackled again. "You should take over some muffins, and then bang him."

Derek choked on his sandwich.

"I'm serious. You need to unwind. Nothing like a good dick to get you to relax."

Derek's cheeks went red. "Erica! I haven't even met him."

"So introduce yourself first. I'm like two weeks away from dragging you to The Jungle myself."

"You're worse than my sisters."

Derek's face went wide with horror at his slip up.

"Have you told them yet?"

"Yes."

She smelled blood in the water. "You haven't!"

"Erica no! Don't even think about it! Erica?" He looked at his phone to see she hung up. He banged his head against his wheel. "You never learn Hale." He would definitely have a couple texts from his sister's by night.

---

Derek had soon enough forgotten about that night after his sister's pokes faded.

He had a quiet week, till tonight that is.

He kicked off his boots not caring where they went.

Half the department had been chasing down a, supposedly, kidnapped teen. When Derek finally sniffed out the end of the trail that lead all over town, the scent of the boy was closely intertwined with marijuana.

He got ready for bed in a haze and the stress of the day finally hit like a weight on his chest. He had been so scared he wouldn't find the boy in time. He was so scared he would have to tell a frantic mother that he found her boy, but it was too late.

He finally realized why the sheriff had gripped his shoulder in a grounding squeeze like they hadn't found him in time while asking if he was alright. It was for this moment. The moment when it all became real. When he realized there was a boy they thought was in trouble and it would've been on them if he wasn't found. It was his job to get him back safely. It happened this time, but the sheriff knew this would come. He'd probably had moments just like this so many times.

Moments of staring at the ceiling and wondering what if. Wondering and imagining the worst, all the while blaming yourself for outcomes that didn't even happen.

Derek sighed and got out of bed. He wouldn't get any sleep with the mood he was in. It was much too somber and contemplative. He figured it had been awhile since he dusted his apartment anyway.

He worked silently while thinking intensely. He had a few morbid thoughts and decided he needed to get some fresh air to clear the dust clogging his lungs and cluttering his eyes. He opened the sliding door to his balcony, but soon enough the night's chill beckoned him out.

It was a welcome sensation on his skin. He breathed in the fresh air for a few moments before he caught sight of a familiar window lit up.

This time the man was sat at his computer furiously typing with headphones on. The man lifted a frankly unlawfully big coffee mug and tipped it completely. He rattled the mug before lifting it to his ear. The man seemed to freeze for a moment before shaking his head while setting it down.

Derek chuckled as he rubbed his hands down his face and slapped his cheeks.

The man must've been up for too long. As if to prove his point he yawned and pushed himself away from the computer. He grabbed the giant mug and disappeared from Derek's view. He came back a few moments later with the mug filled to the brim. He settled back into his groove.

Derek liked watching the man's gestures and how expressive he was, even if Derek couldn't make out all of his facial movements. He only felt slightly creepy for thinking of grabbing his pair of binoculars. Okay, he felt really creepy for that.

The man lifted the coffee to his lips while still typing and burned himself.

Derek could tell he was screaming cuss words.

In jerking back from the sensation the man spilled coffee all over his lap and he jumped up while patting his legs.

Derek was already highly amused and smiling broadly, but when the man left to get a towel only to be yanked back by his headphones he barked out loud laughter.

The man came back, now in black instead of blue sweatpants and looked to be shutting down his computer. The man stretched and Derek could tell his shirt rode up slightly. He was distractedly trying to look at him. When his shirt fell back down he looked back to his face.

One that was now pointed towards where his light was on and he was once again staring creepily.

Derek shot up and was thankful he had left his door open so he could just slip right inside without the wait.

Derek mentally kicked himself as he decided to just lay down, so he wouldn't be tempted to peek out his curtains to see if the man was calling his co-workers. God that'd be embarrassing. Parish would laugh his ass off if he got that call.

After a few moments thinking about the man he fell asleep with a smile remembering the hilarity of his sleepy mistake.

---

Lydia spooned the last of her dressing onto her salad. "And the guy just went back inside?"

"Yeah. He seemed embarrassed both times, but I don't know if I should tell my dad. On the one hand sheriff dad scaring off creepy guy, yay. On the other worried dad shooting creep."

She tilted her head in consideration. "Keep an eye out for him. If it becomes more of a problem or if he makes you uncomfortable then tell him."

"I don't know, I've never see him out there other nights. He doesn't really make me uncomfortable. I guess he's probably just curious about the weirdo up and three."

She laughed. "Probably. And what did I say about getting proper sleep? You'd get laid more often if you ever left your house not looking like a sleep deprived troll."

"Really feeling the love Lyds."

She narrowed her eyes and pointed her fork at him. "You know it's true. I didn't move back to Beacon Hills just for you to get us all murdered because you fell asleep researching and got us the wrong info. You need sleep, you insomniac workaholic." She stabbed a piece of chicken and stuffed it in her mouth menacingly.

"Has that ever happened?"

She swallowed and was undeterred. "No, but you need to be especially on your toes now. We all do. With this Malikhai pack circling we cannot show weakness. They're already sowing doubt about Scott's hold on Beacon's territory. Everyone concerned knows he didn't steal shit, but if they bend enough ears it could be a problem. A big one at that meeting in two months."

He nodded. "You're right. I'll get more sleep."

She assessed him, then shook her head. "You aren't going to do shit. You're restless and won't let anybody help you."

He considered her words. "Sometimes you're scary with how much you know."

She laughed as she gathered her things and dropped money for their lunch. "That's cute. I'm always scary because of how much I know. Kisses."

He waved at her bouncing curls.

---

The third time it happened Stiles could hardly blame him. He should've closed his curtains, but he loved being able to look outside. Even as he was dancing wildly to ABBA at four in the morning while in his boxers. In his defense though, how else are you supposed to organize your house?

Stiles had just finished quite literally boogieing to dancing queen when he looked up and saw that light on again. They both stared for a brief moment. Stiles had no idea what made him do it, but he did a tiny wave. Which the man returned hesitantly. Stiles smiled and it seemed like the man did as well. It was already hard to tell from the distance, but the man also had dark, albeit hot, facial hair.

He was just about to turn when the man started to clap. It confused Stiles for a second, until he realized the applause was for his performance. He bowed dramatically and when he straightened he was met with the sight of laughter. The man pointed back to his apartment before once again waving.

Stiles waved back and in a mindless moment blew a kiss.

He instantly internally panicked.

The man looked confused and he turned half way back to his door before reaching out his hand and catching the kiss. He then rushed inside.

Stiles' joyful insomniac energy was burst and he hid under his covers till he eventually fell asleep.

---

"He blew you a kiss?!"

Derek's voice was muffled by the counter it was pressed against, but it sounded vaguely affirmative.

"And you caught it."

This time the yes sounded more distressed.

Erica patted his back as she let out vigorous laughter.

When she finally settled down she offered, "Well, maybe he won't think you're as weird because he's weird too."

"Thanks for your comfort." He said deadpan.

She responded in kind. "I'm here for you in this difficult time." She steered the conversation back to her weekend plans with little consideration.

---

The only reasons he took night shift were because it was understaffed and if something supernatural happened he needed to be there anyway, but now he was thinking of adding so he could look to see if the light across the way was on.

These last few weeks he didn't linger, but he still smiled when he got home to see that light burning just like his own. He would check and some how that was enough. On the two nights he had stayed until he was caught it was no longer awkward. The man had just looked up and they waved before Derek left. Another night Derek just listened to the man's heartbeat and his soft mutters as he washed his floors.

He knew it was creepy, but something about the man was just...

Comforting.

Derek realized it was comforting to come home and have someone there.

God when had he gotten so lonely that a complete stranger waving at him from across the street felt intimate.

It was soothing, he supposed, to come home after a hard day to see that you weren't the only weary soul too tired to sleep. To know you weren't the only one battling things in the dark.

Derek set his wallet and keys on the table with a yawn. It wasn't an eventful day whatsoever. He had done nothing but paperwork and battle his drooping eyelids. He had been so tired all day, but now that he was home his mind jumped from one thing to another. After he got changed he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and decided to sit on the balcony. Might as well see what his neighbor was up to.

The light was on, but the man wasn't in sight.

Derek sat enjoying the calm night air while drinking his beer.

Just as he was starting to get worried, the man paced past in a flurry.

His arms were flailing and his lips were moving a mile a minute. Derek looked with fondness for a few moments. Then he noticed how heavily and fast the man's chest was heaving.

Something looked wrong. His movements, while normally clumsy, were erratic instead. Almost frantic. Derek knew it was not okay to listen in on the man under normal circumstances, but the man looked about ready to burst into tears.

"You're okay. Stop freaking out. Stop. Ju-just stop. Y-you're ok-kay. Just s-stop!"

The man looked down at his fingers and looked to be counting them. He then looked around his flat to name items with different colors.

Oh.

The man was having a panic attack.

The sheriff had taught them all different methods to calm someone having one, in case they encountered it on a case. The rainbow method was one. The man was trying to calm himself down.

The man repeated that he was okay over and over.

Derek listened to his heartbeat hammer. He needed to calm down or he would pass out. Derek knew he was on the third floor so he'd just have to figure out which apartment number.

He was just about to turn to go inside when the man ran to his desk and fumbled with his phone.

Derek felt a small amount of disappointment, but it was quickly pushed down. He was happy the man was getting help, even if it wasn't him. Besides how weird would that have been. 'Hey I'm your neighbor I heard you having a panic attack from across the street so I decided to find your apartment.'

The line rang for a long time and Derek hoped the person answered and was able to help.

Derek wasn't able to hear the other voice, but he could hear the man's. "Scott. P-panic a-t-t-" The man tried to force air into his lungs.

He didn't talk anymore, but he looked to be listening intently and he nodded his head even though the man on the line couldn't see it.

"B-better. But I- I'm still shaking." The man held up his shaking hand as if to prove it.

Derek listened to his heartbeat. It was no longer thudding, but it was still fast.

"No you d-don't have to. You're already on y-your way?" The man sighed, but went out of sight and Derek heard his door unlocking.

They stayed on the line until a car approached, headlights almost blinding on the empty dark street.

An obviously sleep ruffled puppy of a man got out and walked around to the building's entrance.

Derek heard knocking.

"What's the password?"

There was a sigh. "Rubber baby butter beans." The door unlatched.

Derek stifled a laugh.

Derek heard a muffled thanks and figured the man's face was pressed tightly into a hug.

They both walked in the view of the window and Derek got a little better of a look at the stranger. He looked like he could be handsome, but from this distance it was hard to tell.

He was too busy focusing on the man's face he didn't catch their conversation. Soon enough the lights went out and he heard two people settling into bed. The man's heartbeat had settled slightly, but his breaths still had a few hitches.

"Focus on my breathing. Feel my chest move. We're safe here. I've got you."

Derek started to wonder if maybe they were together. A boyfriend would be more inclined to get out of bed to check on someone than a friend. But then again if he called Erica in the middle of the night she'd break his door down. Maybe they were just friends. Then again, the magenta, purple, and blue flag hanging on the man's wall had Derek wondering.

When he first saw it, it had made him glad, but now it caused a rolling in his stomach. It was ridiculous, he shouldn't be jealous over a neighbor he hadn't even met!

He decided to go inside and clean Lucian's litter box then organize his bookshelves.

He was deeply engrossed in a book by the time he heard movement on the street. He decided to put his book down to check it out.

"Thanks for tonight Scotty."

The stranger, Scott, got his keys out of his pocket as they hugged. "Yeah yeah. You know you can call me whenever."

The man stuck his hands in his pj pants pockets. "Yeah well, still tell Alli sorry for stealing her boyfriend."

Scott grinned. "We all know I'm both of yours."

The man let out an obnoxiously loud laugh for the quiet morning. "True. Now get out of here. Don't want to keep Mr. Cryptic boss waiting. Love you bro."

"Love you too." The man started his car and Derek realized he was dressed for the day. He must've borrowed some clothes. Or maybe he has a drawer.

Derek's head was starting to hurt trying to figure out what their relationship was. He had said both of yours, like he was both of their boyfriend. Maybe they were poly? But then why hadn't this Alli come too? Maybe they were just friends and it was a joke.

Derek got into bed still trying to figure it out, but drifted swiftly after thinking of his loud laughter. It was an oddly soothing sound.

He wanted to hear it more often.

---

Stiles spread the burgers and fries out on the counter. "Oh please, iron man's ass is forged of metal. Cap's is pure squats and muscle."

Scott pinched the skin of the kitten's neck. "You mean, pure super soldier serum." Scott gave it it's shot before soothing the kitten.

Stiles waved a fry at him. "But still muscle. The serum just amplified his muscle definition. But it is still muscle, and there for, it is America's true ass."

"What about Deadpool? He's got a good ass. What about him?"

Stiles snorted. "For starters? He's Canadian."

Scott tilted his head. "Oh yeah."

Stiles rubbed the grease and salt from his hands on to his jeans. He tried to sneak a few fries from Scott's, but he looked over.

"Hey! Paws to yourself! Those are mine."

Stiles stuck out his tongue and grabbed his burger instead. "Best super hero ass hands down is Dick Grayson."

Scott softly placed the kitten back in the pen and grabbed another. "No way. Black canary all the way."

Stiles scoffed. "Sure, bud."

Scott gave the last kitten it's shot before washing up to eat. "That isn't what I called you here to talk about though."

Stiles raised and eyebrow. "What. No way. You didn't call me here to debate superhero glutes?"

Scott rolled his eyes. "I wanted to talk to you about next month."

Stiles took a huge bite so he didn't have to respond.

"This is important." Scott tried to meet his eyes, but Stiles avoided him. He sighed. "What is the matter with you lately dude? We all agreed as a pack, we need this meeting to go well. If we are going to hold Beacon as McCall- Stilinski territory, next month is important. Why does it seem like you're checking out?" Scott focused on his face. "Are you okay? If something is wro-"

"I'm okay Scott. You don't have to worry about me. I'll get my head in the game before then, I've just had some personal shit going on."

He gave him a sad look. "I miss the days when your personal was mine."

Stiles looked down. There was a pit in his stomach as his throat dried. "I know Scotty, but I will tell you, eventually. I just need to work some stuff out."

"You keep saying that, but I don't think you're working anything out. I think you're just keeping things to yourself because you don't want to worry anybody."

Stiles mindlessly stirred his ketchup with a fry.

"But you are. You are worrying us. We just want to help."

"I know." Stiles met his eyes. "We'll deal with the Malikhai pack and their challenge of our territory first. Derek Hale is one of my dad's newer deputies. He brought two other betas with him from New York. They talked and Laura is still their alpha, so the Malikhai pack doesn't have grounds for a refusal because Derek is just a beta. Even if this has been Hale territory for centuries, with Laura setting up a pack in New York, Beacon is forfeit unless a Hale alpha shows up to claim it."

"What if Laura shows up to challenge us?"

Stiles shook his head. "Derek told my dad she isn't interested in Beacon. She gave her word she never intends to take Beacon for her territory as long as we take care of it. She thinks we're doing well enough from what she's heard."

Scott nodded. "Let's go over the protocol again."

Stiles gathered his trash. "You'll be fine, but if you want we can."

---

Derek reached for the bottle of wolfsbane laced whiskey in the back of his cabinet. His eyes had already healed from the puffy state his call with Laura and Cora had left them in, but he felt new tears at the back of his eyes.

A family had left a roast in the oven overnight, accidentally on high, but thankfully it was called in soon enough. Fire calls usually left him shaken, but there was a little girl that looked exactly like Cora. She was coughing the smoke from her lungs that also clung to her clothes and hair and soon enough Derek was the one unable to breathe. He tried to hide his claws and fangs and closed his eyes when they flashed red. He didn't know how long it was before he felt the sheriff's arms wrap around him and send him home, but after his phone calls it was now three in the morning.

He refilled his glass and went to get changed. He struggled with his pants already feeling the alcohol, wolfsbane made the effect almost instant. By the time he had finished getting changed he needed to find the bottle again.

Every time he closed his eyes he saw the frightened ones of the little girl. It was times like this he longed to feel the shift take over and get in a much more simple state of mind, a much more primal one. It felt like the smoke was in him and the flames were licking his face. He needed air.

He went to the balcony and like he knew it would be, that light was on.

The man was hard at work, tapping away at his computer. He was chewing a pen cap in-between his teeth as he focused intently on his screen.

Derek wanted the man to look at him. To notice him so he wasn't alone. He wanted to feel like he was seen and his pain was normal.

He had moved back from New York because everything was just too impersonal. You could fade into the city and no one would ever know you were gone. But a small part of him hoped that the man would notice if he never had his light on at an ungodly hour again. He wished that someone cared about him like he was important.

Derek hung halfway off the balcony as he began to frantically wave. He sloshed his almost empty whiskey as he flung his arms out.

Eventually the man looked up. He hesitantly waved and Derek raised his glass to him.

The man laughed and raised his coffee mug in return.

Derek laughed finding it funnier than it was. He got an idea and before he could think about it he held out his flat palm with his other fist placed atop it. He moved both hands forward in question.

The man looked confused and shrugged.

Derek thrust his hands out again, and then he pounded his fist three times on top of his palm.

The man laughed and mirrored his hands.

They pounded their fists in unison, and on the third beat Derek held up rock and the man held up paper. The man pumped his hands in victory. Derek threw both arms out in mock defeat. Derek watched the man throw back his head in a laugh with rapt attention. He held up a finger to tell him to wait before pushing his computer chair away.

Derek wanted to tell him not to leave, but soon enough he was back. He held up something to the window, it looked like marker. He uncapped it and began writing on the window backwards. He made two columns, one labeled, me. And the other, you. He put a tally mark under the me column before setting the marker down.

By the end of the night Derek could barely see the man with all the marks on the window. He had his computer chair pushed away as he leaned over his desk to get closer to count them. The man won by two points and he did a victory dance. The man acted like a wave was passing through his arms and he pointed it at Derek. He was just drunk enough that he pretended to continue it with a sad excuse of a robot.

Derek could almost hear the man's laughter ringing in his ears as he laid down to sleep. He fell asleep picturing his wide grin and cute dance.

---

Cora's laughter was booming. Laura spoke in a consoling tone, "Oh Derbear. You did your robot?"

Derek just groaned at her.

Cora spoke with no mercy, "Your robot sucks ass."

"I am aware, devil spawn. Well, sober me is."

"Hey call me devil spawn all you'd like, I'm not the one that scarred their cute neighbor with the abomination that is you dancing."

"Laura tell her to stop. Order her to be nicer, use the eyes."

"Sorry lil bro. She's right."

"Ugggh." Derek groaned into his pillow. "You both are terrible."

---

Derek tried to avoid the balcony out of shame for the next week.

The loud banging in the alley drew his attention before he could remember to stay inside. For a second he didn't see anything below, but then a trashcan tipped over and circled before a plump raccoon crawled out. Derek looked up, relieved it hadn't been someone trying to break in. He didn't want to have to deal with that tonight. He saw that light on and inside the man's head was tipped down still looking at the raccoon.

He looked more distressed than normal. Mugs stacked around his desk and there were papers strewn about. His hair was frazzled and he had tension in his shoulders. Derek wondered what stressed him so much. Maybe it was his job, he could have an upcoming deadline. Maybe he w-

He was staring back up at him.

The man brightened and waved enthusiastically. Derek waved back.

There was a pause.

Derek tried to mime that now that he had checked out the alley, and it was just raccoons he was going to head back to bed. But the man looked confused at his gestures. It probably looked like he was trying to make shadow puppets. He pointed a thumb back at his apartment and the man looked down. Derek started to move back reluctantly. He felt so rude, like he was leaving in the middle of a conversation, but he was also still embarrassed.

The man grabbed something from across his desk. He held up the orange marker. Derek stood there considering for a moment. The man took that as a no and set the marker down.

"Don't do it Hale." He whispered to himself.

He held up his hands and the man energetically moved to get ready.

They played till something drew the man's attention to his computer. He held up a hand to motion for Derek to wait.

He clicked for a few moments before pointing to his computer. Derek nodded and settled into a chair while pulling out his phone.

Derek's attention was drawn back upwards when he saw a fast movement. He looked up to be met with the sight of catastrophe. There were papers spewing out of the man's printer at an unearthly rate. The man was shouting and waving for the printer to stop. He jabbed at a few buttons, but to no avail. The printer just kept going and in one final power move the man unplugged the machine. It stilled and he sagged with relief.

The man looked up at Derek. Derek finally absorbed the situation and burst out laughing. The man quickly joined in. Once they had calmed down he gathered the papers and shook his head at them. He closed down his computer and span his chair in a circle before meeting Derek in their next match.

Derek won the night and the man put a little mark on the top window opposite to an identical mark.

So this was a thing. The man clearly expected to play again. He expected to play enough games where they would need to keep track on the window. Maybe this would be their thing. Rock, paper, scissors from across the street.

Derek got cozy in bed as a warm feeling settled in his chest. It was nice to have something, some sort of connection to someone. This was the sort of thing he missed in New York. He missed helping little old ladies at the grocery store and talking to neighbors while getting the mail. He missed seeing the same face multiple times just going to the bank. In the city everything was constantly changing, shifting. Derek just always felt like backdrop rather than a person. He missed being a part of a community. He missed feeling like he made an impact.

He supposed that's why he joined the PD. To help people. Feeling like he helped someone was the best thing to Derek. He wanted to have people around him and to be able to take care of them. No matter how close he was to his sisters, traveling never felt settled enough, and Laura's pack felt solid enough without him. He didn't have an integral place with either of them that truly felt like his own. He'd been back in Beacon hills for months now, and a couple games of rock, paper, scissors and an over protective boss was as close as he got to finding a place he belonged. No matter how much he saw them getting closer or he enjoyed his job, his co-workers were still just work friends and his job wasn't going to make him feel fulfilled.

He wanted someone to belong to. Someone that felt like home.

He drifted off wondering how soon he would meet someone like that for him, or if he already had.

---

Allison looked at Scott concerned. "Stiles, you sound pretty gone."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "He gave you a pen and I had to convince him to not propose the next time he saw you. I think me having a crush on my neighbor/rock, paper, scissors pal/stalker is sane in comparison."

She gave him a, 'Yeah keep telling yourself that.' look.

"I think if it makes you happy you should do it. You know how to take care of yourself. Maybe you're soulmates."

Allison rolled her eyes.

Stiles slung an arm around Scott's neck. "See, this is why you're my best friend. You always support me."

Scott beamed.

---

Derek grimaced as he tried to not smear blood on his door or walls.

He went straight to the bathroom and put his torn, soaked top right into the garbage. He turned on the water and steam started to billow into the room. He stripped and looked at the damage in the mirror.

They had been looking aimlessly for the omega for weeks now. But the night before another body was found, so they were determined. The sheriff came in with another map that had random circles on it. He had been bringing them in from his pack. Derek was glad that beacon had the McCall- Stilinski pack to look out for it, they wouldn't have been able to search even the narrowed down areas without the pack's help. The sheriff and him finally found the omega and cornered him.

Derek winced as he prodded at the claw mark across his side.

The omega had been able to get in a few surprise attacks before Derek fought back.

He stepped under the spray and let out a content grumble, happy to have the omega's blood swirling down the drain instead of sticking to his skin. He washed away the day and was satisfied that they had finally dealt with the wayward wolf.

He turned off the water wanting to collapse into bed, but still having a little bit of adrenaline left from the fight.

He decided to check in on his neighbor before bed. He threw on a pair of sweatpants before padding out to the balcony.

After his hot shower the air outside raised the hair on the back of his neck and arms. His eyebrows pulled together once he saw the blinds closed with the light on. He could see the silhouette of the man sitting at his chair.

That was odd. He never closed his blinds. Maybe he didn't want to see Derek anymore. Maybe he weirded him out. The man seemed happy to see him last time. Derek shouldn't feel this hurt, this shut out. It just felt like they were building a relationship, even if they just played a game.

Maybe he was just embarrassed about the printer thing, like Derek had been. Or maybe he was having more computer problems.

That thought brought conflicting emotions. First, it brought a smile, but then he thought about how easy it was for the man to be able to shut him out.

Maybe he was in trouble. He doubted it, but maybe. Derek had a worrying thought. What if the man was having another panic attack, but he didn't want him to see?

Derek internally debated for a moment longer before deciding to just listen in to check on him.

He focused and could hear the man's heartbeat thumping rapidly. His breathing was shallow and fast.

Derek panicked. Why wasn't he calling his friend?

There were sounds of movement that Derek couldn't make out.

He heard breathing sounds that sounded like they were coming from his computer and Derek was puzzled. Was the man trying some breathing exercises to calm down? He heard an extended groan and Derek's eyes widened.

Oh.

He heard a loud breathy moan that faded off into a needy whine and his face flamed.

Oh.

That was why his blinds were closed. Derek heard more decidedly not breathing exercise noises from the man's computer. Now that he knew what it was Derek could easily tell exactly what the noise of movement was from. There was a gasp then a guttural moan. Derek quickly blocked out the noise again and he scurried inside like he was the one caught jerking off.

He laid in bed with red ears. He closed his eyes to fall asleep, but he kept replaying the sounds over and over. He let out a frustrated groan before pulling his pillow over his face like that would muffled the noise in his head. The man's moans had gotten to him more than he'd like to admit. It would be very uncomfortable to fall asleep now.

He threw the pillow off and muttered, "Oh for God's sake!" Before shoving a hand past his waistband.

Later he fell asleep feeling satisfied, content, and very embarrassed.

---

Erica practically cackled off the couch and even Boyd cracked a small smile.

"Oh God Hale, only you!"

Derek stabbed his spoon into his ice cream and it clinked harshly against the ceramic. "How was I supposed to know! That he was..."

Erica gleefully finished his sentence. "Masturbating?"

Derek looked down to hide his burning face. "Can you stop enjoying my pain please?"

"Nu-uh I'm your friend. I have to make you more embarrassed. It's my job."

He scowled at her and she stuck her tongue out.

She spoke through a bite of cookies and cream, "What did you do after you realized what he was doing?"

"I went inside and I..." He avoided looking at her.

"You what?" She looked at him and then at Boyd's smirking face. "You didn't!" She asked shocked. She laughed at him again.

He groaned and forcefully stirred his ice cream.

"Oh my God, you so did!"

---

Stiles couldn't breathe.

Correction, the breath entering his lungs left just as fast as it entered. He could breathe in the same way that he could think. In a way that only made the situation worse and more panic inducing.

He needed to calm down. He tried to breathe. He tried to think about something else, but his thoughts kept circling back. He couldn't call Scott because he had a difficult surgery in the morning. If he called Allison it would wake Scott. He didn't want to call Lydia because it always freaked her out when she wasn't actually there to help. Sometimes she just made it worse no matter how much comfort she wanted to offer. Jackson was in a completely different time zone. He couldn't call his dad because he would still be on shift. Liam, Kira, and Malia all didn't know about his panic attacks and now wouldn't be the best time to have them figure it out.

He muttered to himself, "Y-you can d-d-o this." He tried to calm himself down, but knowing he didn't have anyone he could call made it worse.

He grabbed at his hair as he paced. "S-stop! S-t-top! Fuck-k!"

The tears were rushing down his face and his vision was blurred. His mind whipped in a frenzy as thoughts frantically raced.

He couldn't take it anymore. He ran over to his desk. He shoved papers trying to find his phone, but he could barely see thought the tears. He looked up and cursed, "F-fuck! Stupid f-f-fucking pho-one!" He closed his eyes harshly and when he opened them that light across the street was on.

He met eyes with his shocked pajama clad neighbor.

His mind was a torrent of thoughts. Oh God he was so stupid. This was so stupid. He was an idiot! Why! Why was he doing this right now! Why did his neighbor have to be there! He wouldn't ever want to see him again. Wh-

He went to move out of sight of the window, but his neighbor waved his hands frantically.

Stiles watched with curious eyes as his neighbor put a hand on to his chest. He slowly lifted it up and held it before placing it back on his chest again.

Stiles looked at him with curious eyes and his breathing still hammered in and out.

His neighbor repeated the motion and deeply inhaled this time.

Oh. He wanted Stiles to synch his breathing.

A small smile fought its way through all the panic and distress previously on his face. His neighbor wanted to help him, to calm him down. Even though he barely knew him he cared.

Stiles payed attention to the rhythm his neighbor set, but his breathing wouldn't calm.

More frustrated tears fell. "I-I can't." He whispered as he shook his head.

His neighbor used his other hand to gesture for him to calm down, then he paused the breathing motion to tap his own heartbeat. He resumed the breathing motion. He said something that Stiles couldn't understand.

Stiles tried again. He dug his fingernails into his palm as he tried to ground himself. He was fine. There was someone with him. They cared. He wanted him to calm down, to breathe. Just breathe. It was going to be okay. He was okay. As he thought he kept his eyes on his neighbor's moving hand.

They stood there together for several minutes.

The motion eventually soothed him into a normal breathing pattern. His tears were still falling, but his head was no longer pounding and he could breathe easily. Stiles wiped his eyes and focused on his neighbor's, which were still staring at him calmly.

His neighbor pointed at Stiles and then himself, after he pressed his pointer finger to his thumb as the rest of his fingers fanned upwards.

He smiled. He was trying to tell Stiles that they were okay. Stiles nodded and lifted his hand to copy his gesture.

His neighbor smiled and dropped his hands.

Stiles tried to convey he was sorry and moved his mouth exaggeratedly while he spoke, "Sorry."

He waved his hand in a dismissal. And once again mimed that it was okay.

Stiles was trying to figure out the best way to flee and watch Netflix, not being able to sleep, while they just stared at each other.

His neighbor tentatively raised his hands in a very familiar way.

Stiles smiled and sat on his computer chair. It was a way to pass the time. And a way to not be alone with his thoughts.

They played till the morning light invaded their hidden game. Stiles counted the tally marks and reluctantly put another tally under the you column. Stiles stuck out his tongue.

He held up a middle finger and Stiles clutched his chest with an overly shocked look. He laughed at him and Stiles smiled in return.

---

"I still wish you would've called me."

Stiles shrugged at Lydia. "I couldn't find my phone."

They both drank their smoothies while walking to the next shop in silence. She looked over at him with an assessing look.

"What?"

She only squinted further.

"What."

"Nothing. I'm just surprised he was able to calm you down like that."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "I was desperate. If fricken Elmo popped up and started counting breaths with me I probably would've gone with it."

She hummed and turned back to look where she was going. "I think you should make him cookies. As a thank you. Besides, it's neighborly."

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Are you crazy?! How weird would that be? To just show up with cookies. Like, 'Hey I'm your crazy neighbor that had a panic attack and you had to spend several minutes calming me down. So thanks. Here's some double chip.' No, thank you. I will stick with rock, paper, scissors and pretending I'm not falling in love with a man I've never met."

A passing couple gaped at them, having clearly only caught the last sentence. Stiles squinted at them and they looked away quickly.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Do you really want to live your life not taking chances and connecting with people? You live and work in your apartment. The only time you leave is when the pack or your dad drag you out. This guy seems sweet, albeit a bit creepy, but sweet. I think you should give it a shot. Do you really want to play rock, paper, scissors with him till one of you moves? You have no social life Stiles."

Stiles argued, "Hey I trash talk ten year olds in Halo, just fine."

She didn't react to his joke. "Stiles."

He sighed. "Yeah, I know."

She squinted. "Do you? Do you know what it's like to see one of your best friends waste away and not even care about their life? I don't know what the hell happened to you at college, but you didn't come back the same. At first I thought it was some left over nogitsune bullshit, but it's not. You just don't seem to care about your life. Do you know what that's like for us? For your dad?" She got a little choked up. "For me?"

Stiles pulled her into a hug and fought tears. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"And you won't let us help you. Why?"

Stiles kissed her head. "Because you can't. I know that's difficult to handle, but you can't. And I'm sorry. I'm so fuckin sorry Lyds."

She spoke through her tears, "We just want for you to b-"

"To be happy. I know." He rubbed his hands down her arms. "I'll try the cookies."

---

Stiles drummed fingers on the container as he waited for that light to go on. He tried to busy himself with work, but the problems that wouldn't let him sleep couldn't hold his attention.

He was staring off into space nervously chewing a pen when that light flicked on. He shot out of his seat and bulleted to the door, getting to the doorway before remembering to go back for the container.

---

Derek loved his job. He loved it. He enjoyed his work and actually looked forward to it. He liked feeling like he was doing something important. But all this week there was this itch under his collar, his badge felt heavy, and he just wanted to put his gun away. He couldn't wait to get home.

Who knows how long the man had been panicking for at the start of the week. Derek felt unease in his chest all day and night until he could get home to check on that light and the man it created a halo for. Each night they waved and if the man didn't have work to do they added another mark to the window above.

Derek was becoming worryingly dependant on their routine. He was starting to think if the man wasn't there one night his wolf wouldn't rest till he hunted him down to make sure he was safe. Derek shook his head at that thought. He had more self control than that. He kicked his boots off and flicked on his light. He unbuttoned his top button and didn't even have the patience to change first before opening the sliding door. He frowned at the light on, but the chair was empty and moving in a circle. Maybe he went to get something to drink. Derek listened to the empty flat and started to wonder if he had as much self control as he thought.

He went back inside to change.

After throwing on a pair of sweatpants he paced thinking about what could've happened. Why would've he left his light on? Maybe someone called him for something, like Scott. Maybe Derek just couldn't hear him in there for some reason. Maybe he was safe.

Or maybe someone broke in and took him.

Derek strode to his door deciding to just go over and see if he could smell distress outside his door.

He was across the room from the door when there was a knock.

Derek froze.

Who would be knocking at three am? The Erica of his mind supplied that it could be the man, naked, with flowers. He dismissed that thought as he took a deep breath through his nose as he got closer.

One man. Nervous, very, but excited. Home, like baking and happiness. Like cookies and cinnamon. There was a hint of the scent of rain and thunderstorms. There was a undercurrent of a drug. Nothing he was familiar with, so not illegal. Prescription most likely. There was a Woody scent too. Sandalwood, cedar? There was a pungent coffee and sugar scent like it was all the man consumed.

There was another, much smaller, knock.

Derek opened the door. His mouth opened and his breath was lost.

It was most definitely the man. Derek didn't need to have seen his face, he'd know that messy hair and bright cartoon pajamas anywhere. But now that he did see his face, there was no going back after seeing those wide bright brown eyes. He had moles everywhere and God those lips. Having that hair close enough he wanted to run his fingers through it, or just tug on it. Fuck, he was so gone and the man hadn't even spoken to him yet. Derek took in the man's expression, he looked terrified. He could practically hear the man's dry throat trying to swallow. He realized what his own must look like. He probably still had defensive posture. His face still scrunched in what his sister's called, 'The murder face of concentration.'

He opened his lips to talk, but the man blurted instead, "Oh god this was a terrible idea. I can't believe I did this. Why did I listen to Lydia. You were so nice to calm me down and I just show up on your doorstep like a weirdo. This was weird, this was bad. I mean look at you, god look at your arms!" The man flung out an arm vaguely at Derek. "You probably don't even eat cookies, you probably eat bullets! Lydia was so wrong. You were just being nice helping me, and I've made it weird with cookies. God how does someone even make something weird with cookies? You probably were just humoring me with the rock, paper, scissors. Just being nice, waiting till it wasn't rude to just never look over at me again. You were probably just enjoying the night out on your sick balcony, when you saw a crazy person up at three and were curious, but now the crazy person is on your doorstep. And you'll probably call the cops which would be real fuckin awkward bec-"

Derek got the sense the man could go on the entire night. And he didn't know how much he could take without finding some very boundary pushing ways of shutting him up. "I eat cookies." Derek interrupted.

The man took in a large breath. "What?"

Derek held down a smile. "I eat cookies. Not bullets."

The man seemed checked out as he nodded. "That's good."

The man stared up at him with those Bambi eyes and he had to fight the urge to let his wolf maul him. Derek lifted an eyebrow. "So... Cookies?"

The man seemed to come back to himself. "Right! So raspberry and cream cheese kolaczki cookies. My grandmother's recipe. I didn't know what you would like, so I just made the best recipe I have." He shoved the container forward.

Derek took it.

The man pointed a thumb behind himself. "Right, so I'm just going to go die in a hole and hopefully never be reminded of this again."

Derek spoke as the man moved, "You better not die. Not before you can reclaim your pride in rock, paper, scissors."

The man smiled at him and Derek swore he had never been that close to death. "I think it's clear from this encounter I didn't have any pride to begin with."

Derek smiled.

"Okay Jesus that is so unfair, so I'm going to go." He started to walk away.

"The elevator is th-"

"The other way. Yes. Thank you."

The man awkwardly saluted and tripped on the hastily put on shoes before disappearing around the corner. He exhaled and whispered, "Smooth. Real fuckin smooth."

Derek smiled and closed his door.

---

"He gave you cookies?" Erica dug in the Chinese container on the table.

"Yeah. I had to look them up, but they're some polish cookie. He gave me like two dozen."

"Where are they? I want some."

Derek ducked his head as he blushed. "I ate them."

Her mouth dropped open. "You ate two dozen cookies in two days?"

"They were really good, some of the best cookies I've ever had! And small."

She kicked him. "Dereek! Now I really want one! You really are them all?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I stress ate like half of them that night trying to figure out a way to see him again before I realized I would have to return the container."

She groaned. "You're a mess."

They ate in silence till she put her plate down. "I talked to your sisters the other day."

Derek's stomach lurched. That was never good.

"They filled me in on the meeting next month."

Derek felt unsettled.

"Why didn't you tell us? You know no matter what you do we would support you."

Derek nodded and opened his mouth.

Erica continued, "Even if your decision is stupid. And dumb. And not the right choice."

He sighed. "Erica, it's not that easy."

Her voice was sharp. "So explain it. Because to me it seems like you're shooting yourself in the foot. If you forfeit Beacon now, there will be no getting it back without forcefully taking it. You would have no claim. Laura doesn't want this land, but you could take care of it. You're building a life here. You moved back here, we followed you here. You know as long as you're here we are, but let us know if you don't see a future here. We need to know if we should put down roots or not. Boyd likes it here and I'm starting to come around to it, but if you plan on leaving we need to know."

Derek shook his head. "No matter what happened here, this is my home. This is Hale land."

"It won't be if you forfeit."

He looked down. "We are a pack of three, this is a supernatural beacon. There's no way we could protect it. I do my part at my job. Besides, I could never take this land from the McCall-Stilinski pack. They've taken care of it since we left. I couldn't do that to the sheriff and alpha McCall."

"Doesn't us not having territory make us vulnerable?"

He tilted his head from one side to the other. "Normally, yes. But the alpha and the sheriff know we're here. They have accepted our presence, so we are allowed on this property. That means we won't have any claim to it, but we will still be protected like it is ours. They could always kick us out, but as long as they don't find out I'm an alpha there shouldn't be a problem. We will be treated as accepted guests from another pack."

She nodded thinking. "And what if our pack expanded? What if Issac came back?"

"We could always work out something with them. From what we've heard they're very unorthodox. Hell, just having a true alpha and the sheriff as it's two leading members is crazy enough."

"Hm. Okay. Well, they better not find out. How did returning the dish to hot neighbor go?"

"I haven't yet."

She gaped. "What? Why not? I thought you'd be all eager to see your boy again."

"I didn't want him to think I ate them in two days."

Erica crunched a water chestnut. "But you did!"

"Yeah, but what if when I told him that, he thought I was lying and he thought I threw them away?"

She threw an egg roll at him. "Just give it back you idiot."

---

It was three nights later and Derek had decided to just go to bed. But damn Erica. Her words were ringing in his ears. He grabbed the container before pulling on his boots.

He knocked on the door and wiped his sweaty hands on his pajama pants.

He heard muffled thumping noises and a yelp from the door. There was a soft noise of surprise before Derek heard a chain sliding and the door unlocking.

The man looked as sleep deprived as always, but he had a bat loosely held in one hand. "You scared the shit out of me! The only other time another soul was at my door this late was when someone tried to break in."

Derek was alarmed.

"Don't worry. I had my bat then too." He gave it an expert twirl that didn't fit with the previously clumsy impression Derek had of him.

"And here I thought we lived in a good part of town."

The man laughed. "The bad parts tend to follow me."

"I can't imagine much of anything not wanting to follow you."

The man turned light pink. "Is that my container?"

Derek held it up. "I washed it."

The man started to reach for it. Derek tried to channel everything Erica told him. He pulled it back. The man looked at him with distrust. "I can't give this back until I get a recipe."

The man scoffed. "You bake?"

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"Fair enough. But no can do. Babcia would roll over in her grave, and she's not even dead yet."

Derek laughed. "Well then, fine." He smirked in the way Erica told him to and leaned on the door frame with a forearm. "How about you give me somewhere I can go to get my sugar fix?" Derek really hoped he didn't slam the door in his face.

The man's mouth was gaping and his heart was fast. "Do you know the grocery store on fifth street?"

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"For your sugar fix. They sell them there." The man looked earnest.

Derek straightened back up embarrassed. "Oh. Um, thanks. I-"

The man burst out laughing. Derek realized he was messing with him. "You're a shit aren't you?"

The man shrugged. "I wasn't the one that leaned up against the door frame like a douche."

"It was a little douchey wasn't it?"

The man held up his thumb and pointer close together. "Just a bit."

Derek smiled at him. "Well, there we have it. You shouldn't listen to Lydia, and I shouldn't listen to Erica."

"I knew an Erica once, definitely don't listen to her."

Derek nodded. "Well, I should give this back." He handed over the container.

"How about this, if you have more tally marks by the end of next week, I'll make a double batch just for you."

Derek nodded. "That sounds perfect. But be warned, those were some of the best cookies I've ever had. I'll bring my A game for babcia's cookies."

The man smiled. "I'd expect nothing less." The man hesitated slightly. "But if you want, if you're going to be up anyway, I have some more inside." The man bit his lip nervously.

Derek took effort to not immediately say yes far too loud. "I could definitely be persuaded with cookies. Do you have to work?"

The man shrugged. "As long as I get my stuff done he doesn't care when I work and I'm ahead. If I'm being honest I was just about to say screw work and watch Captain America."

"Which one?"

"The first one." The man tapped the container against his palm.

"That one is my favorite."

He opened his mouth before closing it. "Do you want to? If you aren't too tired, do you want to watch it?"

Derek had just finished a twelve hours shift that was so busy he barely had time to eat. "I'm never too tired for Captain America. Do you need to get some sleep?"

"I'm never too tired to see Bucky Barnes in uniform." The man smiled.

"We have that in common."

The man looked surprised. "Oh?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Derek smiled. "Oh?"

The man smiled right back. "Yeah."

Derek looked into his mesmerizing eyes. "Yeah."

The man looked down and then away. "Okay, make yourself comfortable on the couch. I just have to shut down my computer and g-"

"Get the cookies." Derek supplied.

The man rolled his eyes. "You're like a child."

He shrugged.

---

Parish clapped his back. "I know yesterday was rough, but you look like shit. Did you get any sleep at all?"

"Nope." Derek said with a smile.

"Damn. Why do you look so happy about it Hale?"

He shrugged. "I got cookies and watched the Captain America movies." He didn't mention how there was also hours of debate originally about the movies, but then moved to the entire MCU and then other things. That one of the many times the man flung out his arms, his brushed Derek's and if he focused he could still smell the cinnamon he originally thought came from the cookies.

Parish looked at him puzzled. "You're a weird one Hale."

---

At the end of the week they were tied and the man held up a container enticingly. They had set up the rule that whoever had the most wins by three am won. It was down to the last second and they both sped up so Derek could catch up. He ended up triumphant and the man acted being put out upon briefly before grabbing the container.

There was a knock and Derek had to count to ten, so he didn't know he was waiting at the door.

"I admit. You won it fair and square. Enjoy your cookies."

"Yeah. I definitely will. But if you wanted some, that could be arranged." Derek offered.

"I have some back at my place, but I could go for a coffee."

Derek grinned. "Coffee can be done." He held open the door.

---

"We talked about everything and nothing. He's so interesting. Just the way he thinks about things, god the way he explains himself is like porn. And fuck, his smile. His smile should be illegal. You know?" Stiles gushed.

Lydia stayed still with an expectant look on her face.

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes. His voice went low and mocking, "Lydia you were right."

"I know. So what's his name."

Stiles immediately opened his mouth before snapping it shut and his eyes widened comically.

"Don't tell me yo- Oh my god Stiles! You don't know his name?!"

Stiles rubbed his hands down his face while groaning. "Maybe he said it and I don't remember, but now it will be weird if I ask!"

"For someone so smart, you can be so dumb."

---

"Fuck Laura I don't know his name!"

Cora's laughter was a given, but sweet down to earth Toni's snickers weren't hidden even by her girlfriend's outrageous laugh.

---

He had been working on this problem for hours. The code seemingly mocking him just like his rubber duck that was now in time out. He cracked his neck and changed positions.

Stiles' smile was face splitting when he saw the brightness coming from across the street.

The man waved as he came out ten minutes later in pjs with a bowl of what Stiles assumed to be cereal.

They played a few games before Derek started to yawn. He should get to bed. He motioned that he was going to head in and the man nodded before adding a mark to his own side. Derek nearly collided with the door when it didn't open as he expected. He groan before starting to jiggle it. It wouldn't budge. If he broke it the landlord, who already didn't like him, would be angry. He patted his pockets so he could at least call Erica, but he left it inside. Great. Just great. He turned to see if the man had noticed.

Stiles was laughing his ass off. His neighbor had locked himself out. He had tears in his eyes. He calmed down and met his flat face and it set Stiles off again. This time when he calmed down his neighbor had a small smile. Stiles motioned for him to wait a moment.

Several minutes later Derek heard a rustling at his front door.

Oh great, he locked himself on his balcony, and he was getting robbed. Worst of all the man across the street probably left to get a camera.

He listened and recognized the heartbeat just as the door clicked and gave way. That mop of messy hair looked as cute as ever, even if it puzzled Derek how he knew how to pick locks. The man waved and Derek knocked on the glass before pouting out his bottom lip.

The man laughed once again.

He jiggled the door from the inside to let his neighbor back in. "Welcome to my humble abode." He said as he opened the door.

Derek ignored his comment. "Where did you learn to do that?" He nodded towards the door he closed behind himself. If this man was an international thief or something of the like Derek needed to know.

The man turned on his heels starting to walk, after throwing a suggestive at Derek. "I have a lot of talents, but I'm especially good with my hands."

Derek smirked even if he couldn't see it and walked after him. "And here I was wondering about that mouth."

The man stopped dead, and Derek collided with his back. On instinct Derek's hand went to his hip.

"Oh I'm really good with that too." Maybe it was just Derek, but it felt like the man was leaning backwards into his space.

"Yeah? Am I going to have to lock myself out again to figure out your other hidden talents?"

The man shook his head, and Derek could feel his rabbiting heartbeat. "No. A date. Next Thursday, that new Ryan Reynolds movie is out. You wanted to see it. Didn't you?" A little bit of doubt crept into that question he asked to give Derek an out.

Derek leaned in to breath on his neck. The man was intoxicating. "I want to see that movie so bad, I don't know how I am possibly supposed to wait until Thursday. I want to see that movie so bad, I wish it could just be Thursday." Derek ghosted his bottom lip down his neck. "I want to see that movie so bad, I'm practically shaking."

Stiles' voice shook, "H-how do you know it will be worth the wait?"

"The trailers have been a tantalizing."

"Really? Are you sure you don't need a few reviews? I'm sure it has some glowing ones."

Derek gripped his hip tighter. "I prefer to make my own opinions."

"Yeah? Well, it probably will be good, it's got a stellar lead."

Derek nodded letting his lips drag against his neck. The man shivered. "I would let that sarcastic brunet do what ever he wanted to me."

"Ryan Reynolds is one of the hottest actors."

"Oh, him? I guess he's okay too."

Just like that Stiles was at the end of his rope. He spun around and wrapped his arms around his neighbor's neck to pull him down. "I'm going to k-"

Derek cut the man off by beating him to the punch. And boy, it felt like Derek was punched instead.

Stiles buried his hand in his hair. Derek nipped at his lip and the man's mouth fell open in a groan. Derek seized his opportunity. The man tasted of coffee and desperation, probably as much as Derek did. Stiles pulled his hair and he gripped Stiles' hips and harshly pulled them to his own. Stiles walked Derek backwards until they collided with the glass door.

Time was lost to Stiles. All he knew was the person in front of him. He felt a hand sneak under his shirt. He pulled back. "Fuck." He breathed harshly. "Fuck, if you do that I won't make it to Thursday."

Derek started to bite and kiss at his neck instead.

"Fuck if you do, that, I won't last five minutes." He could feel a smile press against his throat.

"What do you recommend I do?"

Stiles closed his eyes to clear his mind. "Don't do, any of what you're doing." He peeked his eyes open. "In fact, your face? That's got to stop too. It is much too distracting."

"Oh okay. And what abo-"

"Yep, your voice is another thing that isn't going to happen right now."

He leaned back into his neck. "Sorry. How's this?" He rubbed his beard against his neck.

There was a gasp before he gripped his hair and pulled his head back. He spoke forcefully, "You, are doing that Thursday! Everywhere." Stiles slammed their lips together again.

Derek pulled back. "Do you need to get back to your computer?"

"Fuck my computer." Stiles spoke the last word practically against his lips.

Stiles pulled back. "I left your door open."

"Fuck my door." Derek pressed his smile to his lips.

"I'd rather fuck you."

Stiles went to kiss him again, but his neighbor burst out laughing. "No! No laughing. Kiss me!"

Derek's laugh rang out regardless of the pout. They kissed until they were interrupted by a small meow.

The man pulled back with wide eyes. "You have a cat!"

Derek was concerned. "Are you allergic?"

Stiles left him pressed against the glass door. He looked around. "Here, kitty kitty."

Lucian sauntered closer.

Derek started coming closer. "I wouldn't try to pet him! He hates all people and will bite you if you don't leave him alone. Really he's a huge asshole named Lucian."

Stiles held out his hand and Lucian eagerly pressed his head against his hand. Stiles looked back. "Right, sure. A big asshole. He's a sweetie. Aren't you?" He did a pet voice. "Oh, yes you are."

Lucian practically rolled over on to his belly and purred. Derek looked in disbelief. "He doesn't normally do that."

The man scoffed. He went to pick Lucian up cautiously and he almost leap into his arms. "Of course not. Because you're the huge asshole. Isn't he Luci? He is. Lying about you being mean, but you're a little sweetheart." Lucian gave a little meow of agreement.

---

Over the next few days Stiles found just about every single way to tease a man while not being able to speak and with an alley in-between them.

Thursday Derek knocked on his door and was breathless when it opened. "I thought sleepy you would kill me, but those jeans are a sin."

The man flushed. "Oh, well I prefer you without a shirt. I haven't had the pleasure yet, but I figure that rule applies to pants as well."

"Be good tonight and you might get it."

Stiles closed the door behind himself and leaned in to peck his lips. "I'm never good." He winked and walked away.

They whispered jokes back and forth the entire movie and almost got kicked out for laughing. They barely made it up into Derek's apartment before they were tearing each others clothes off. They fell into bed in a whirlwind.

While their breath was calming Stiles had a thought. "I should probably give you my number, huh?"

Derek laughed and agreed, "Yeah, you should." Before he rolled over, caging him with his arms again and nosing at his neck.

---

He felt someone staring at him and he looked up. "What?"

Parrish had a haunted look on his face. "What is your face doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"You look... Happy?!" Parrish ran away laughing as Derek threw paperclips at him.

The sheriff appeared beside him with a disapproving look.

"Sir, I-"

He clapped him on the shoulder. "Happy looks good on you, Hale."

Parrish looked surprised. "Are you letting go of your five month plan?"

The sheriff sipped his coffee. "Nah. It just might have to be moved to the five year plan."

Parrish laughed and he smirked. Derek was confused, but he let it go figuring they wouldn't tell him anyway.

Derek called after the sheriff as he headed toward the break room. "I put a yoghurt in the fridge for you! Leave the donuts alone!"

"Christ Hale, you're worse than my kid."

"To be a deputy I need a sheriff!"

"Love you too kid." He called before shutting the door to eat his yoghurt.

Derek felt pleased, but tried not to show it. The warmth in his chest blossomed anyway.

---

Scott's neck nearly snapped as he turned to him. "Dude you got laid!"

Stiles grimaced. "That's so gross! I showered like three times."

"It's not that, you just have this settledness. A contentment that comes after."

"Still weird dude."

---

They texted constantly. Now that Stiles could gloat in-between games and make sarcastic comments it was constant. Derek gave as good as he got, though.

Whenever his phone buzzed he was smiling before he could even realize it. They talked about anything and everything. The man went down the programming rabbit hole once, till they banned work talk before he could even find out what his neighbor did for a living. But other than that they shared everything. Well, he still didn't know the man's name, but that was unimportant when you've held a person as they told you about losing their mom and in turn told them about all the family you'll never see again. Derek was never tired of the man. For two weeks they kept getting closer and texting constantly. It was like normal social rules didn't exist with the man. One moment they'd be talking about video games and the next they spoke about their third favourite ice cream flavor, or how they've disappointed the people closest to them. They always had an argument about something, but it always ended in laughter. This had been what he was missing. This had been what he wanted. Someone to share the little parts of his day with. Someone that cared and couldn't wait to see him.

But in the small moments when they sat in silence he could tell there was something the man wasn't telling him. Sometimes he would chew his nails staring off into the distance with a worry on his face. When Derek would ask what was wrong he would dismiss it as nothing. He kept getting more and more on edge through the two weeks, but he acted like normal until Derek got his text.

It had been a busy day, if it wasn't one thing it was another. Paperwork and deadlines that had to be met, things to be catalogued, and someone to be arrested. He got off around two that night thankfully. Derek wanted to kick off his shoes and just go straight over to his balcony, but his phone buzzed almost immediately after his light went on.

His smile dimmed as he saw that the man had a very important work problem and couldn't be distracted.

Derek understood. He really did. He went to take a shower and tried not to feel the unwarranted disappointment. Sometimes people were busy, that was fine. He tried to settle into bed, but he couldn't close his eyes without thoughts of the man. Maybe if he just saw him, he would be able to sleep. His bare feet hit the cold floor as he walked out to the balcony.

As soon as he opened the door his face fell into a frown. His blinds were closed.

Surely he wasn't... Derek thought about how the man couldn't keep his hands off of him. He listened in, but was met with the sounds of computer typing, frustrated noises, and mumbled complaints. He was definitely working, but why would he close his blinds?

Derek got back into bed still thinking. Maybe he just needed a break from him. Or maybe it was really a big work problem that he couldn't handle being distracted from.

Thoughts about the man kept Derek awake and not even Tom Hardy in a lobster tank could lull him to sleep.

It was four am and he had gotten no sleep. He shut off the movie on his laptop. The more he thought about it the more confused and frustrated he was with not knowing what happened. He was now beyond tired and grumpy. He switched shifts with someone so he went to the kitchen to make himself something to eat and get some much needed coffee before work. He put some toast in before reaching for the coffee tin.

He sighed so loudly Lucian came into the room out of curiosity. "Why of all days? Why me?" Derek threw the empty coffee tin in the garbage. Yesterday was so busy he forgot to get some. There was no way he was going to work without coffee, but nowhere would be open this early.

He had a thought. Hm, worth a go.

He listened and sure enough the man was still up, pacing his flat. Derek grabbed his keys.

He knocked and soon enough the door swung open. The man looked disheveled and Derek was instantly hit with a wall of stress, anxiety, and fear.

Derek immediately forgot that he had been agitated or that he was under caffeinated. "What's wrong?"

The man looked caught off guard. "What? Why are you here?"

It wasn't said unkindly just with curiosity, but it still hurt. "I'm out of coffee, and I have to work in three hours."

"Right. Fine. I've just got to focus on this work thing. It's really-"

Derek lifted an eyebrow then looked over at where his computer was off.

The man scrubbed a hand down his face. "It's complicated."

Derek nodded. "I get complicated. That's okay if things are complicated. I just don't want, you feeling comfortable talking to me, to be one of them. So I'm going to go make us some coffee. And if you want to talk we can sit on the couch until you find a way to make it sound uncomplicated. If not I can take my coffee, go to work, and wait for the day it either is too complicated or it isn't anymore. I'll wait if you aren't ready or if this is too soon, but there is nothing that you could say that I wouldn't want to hear. Simply for the fact that it's you saying it."

Derek was tackled into a kiss that tasted like stale coffee. "It's in the cabinet by the sink."

They stood in silence as Derek made them coffee. The man went over to his bread box and pulled out a container of peanut butter cookies. Derek looked at him softly.

"I know they aren't your mom's, but I figured I-"

Derek pulled him into a hug. "They'll be perfect." Derek turned to get the sugar out and set the mugs down.

"I want the big ba-"

"The big Batman one. I know. It's the one you use the most at your desk."

Stiles wrapped himself around his back while he poured them coffee and he kissed the back of his shoulder. "More sugar."

He shook his head and set the sugar down.

Stiles turned to mouth at his neck and then whispered, "More sugar, please?"

He swore before dumping more in. "Jesus. You'll be the death of me."

Stiles smiled and bit at just the right spot as he crept his hand under his shirt.

"Fuck your hands are cold."

"Why don't you warm them up then?" Stiles danced his fingers along his skin.

"I know what you're doing."

Stiles pulled his ear between his teeth and whispered breathily, "Is it working?"

"No."

He scraped his nails down his side and Derek shivered. "Yes." Derek turned around and held his chin to kiss him. He leaned back to look into his eyes. "If you don't want to talk about it you don't have to distract me, we just don't have to talk about it. I just want you to have someone to talk about things with, even if they aren't happy."

The man looked at him with an undecipherable look, before tears started to gather in his eyes. He pulled him in for a sweet kiss and leaned their foreheads together. "This is much too soon for just how deeply I care for you. This is weird."

Derek smiled at him. "Yeah, it is. So what? You're weird. I'm weird. Why wouldn't we be weird together?"

Derek walked over to the couch and set their mugs down. "So, am I taking a seat?"

Stiles nodded at him. He sat down and started drinking his coffee and pulled his legs up. He waited patiently as Stiles began to pace. "Are you sure?"

Derek shrugged. "There are few things I've been more sure of than you."

Stiles let out a humorless laugh as he shook his head. "You see that right there! I can tell you're a defensive and closed off person. You don't trust easily. You had people take advantage of you, so you don't let people into your life, but with me you, you just trust me. And that scares me. Because what if I hurt you? Then I'll just be another one of the people you trusted that hurt you. And God we're moving so fast! Surely this is too fast? People normally don't go this fast. But it doesn't feel wrong. Well, I mean it does, but only for the fact that it doesn't feel wrong to be going this fast. Does that make sense? It probably doesn't. But God you just scare me because I've dated, I've had boyfriends and girlfriends. I've had casual hook ups and serious relationships, but I have never once thought about if my dad would be proud to walk me down the aisle to any of them. That is a crazy thought to have! And I thought that after the first time we had sex! That's crazy! I'm crazy! I shouldn't think about getting married after knowing you for like less than a month! And I've never felt like I had to be fake with you. I've never thought oh God what if my laugh is obnoxious? What if doesn't like the way I walk or the way I dress or the way I act? What if I'm too much of a nerd for him? What if I like him more than he likes me? I mean you're sex on legs, practically a Greek god and I'm just me. But you never make me feel like just me. You make me feel special. I never once have thought what if I'm too skinny or not muscled enough. I've never thought any of that."

He took a big deep breath in.

"Not a single thing like it. It's just so easy to be me around you, and it scares me. I tell you everything. You know about Scott and my mom and the boy named Theo in eighth grade that broke my heart. I tell you about the history of male circumcision and my time at Berkeley. And I know things about you. You told me that she took advantage of you when you haven't even told your sisters that. Sometimes I think I know you inside and out, but then I remember just how little I know, how little time we've know each other. Hell, I sat on your face and I don't know your middle name, fuck or your first! But I know you had a dog named Lucky when you were six. I know all these things, but when I think of a day I don't get to learn more about you it ruins my mood. I want to know everything about you, and I want you to know everything about me."

The man's eyes looked wild and scared as he flailed his arms.

"I ramble! It's a thing I do! I'm doing it right now! And you don't even care. You just get this look in your eyes like it would kill you if I ever shut up. And let me tell you, I'm used to having the exact opposite. I am constantly told to shut up. But you, you just calm me down from panic attacks and text me so my day isn't boring and look all super hot when you kiss me. And right now I should feel different. I should feel sorry for talking this much, but I don't. Because it's you."

He stopped moving and looked into Derek's eyes deeply. "Because it's you. You scare me. Because it's you. You don't make me feel sorry for being me."

Derek nodded. He sat his mug down and put his legs back down before widening them and patting the space between them.

Stiles walked over and collapsed into his lap. He straddled him and wrapped his arms around his neck.

When Derek encircled his torso the man slumped against him as he buried his head into his neck.

They clung to each other for several moments before Derek spoke, "It scares me too. My sisters are sick of hearing about you and Erica is dying to meet you. I'm nervous to meet Scott and down right terrified to meet your dad. My middle name is Samuel. I thought about if we would move or live here and if you would want kids. This scares me. I haven't had a proper long term relationship where they didn't try to kill me. I closed myself off from everyone for so long to heal that I forgot what it was like to trust someone. How to do it. I shouldn't trust you, not this soon. But I look into your eyes and my life is yours. We already disregard the social norms, why should this be any different? You scare me. But fuck what we should do. Fuck how it's supposed to go. Let's just be scared and trust each other entirely too soon." Derek didn't know if it was instinct, or just the universe finally giving him something, but he knew down to his bones that he could trust Stiles.

Stiles exhaled shakily. "I've started sleeping better because I know you're there. I don't have as many panic attacks, because I know you're a text away. I know you're across the street. I know you're there for me, and I'm not used to that and it freaks me out. It freaks me out how it's felt like there's been this hole in my life for so long, and when I look in your eyes everything seems just a little bit less hard. A little bit less like tomorrow isn't going to happen the way it's supposed to. A little bit like you're the solution to a problem I didn't even know I was asking."

He seemed to absorb that all for a moment as he rubbed soothing circles into Stiles' hip.

He stopped his circles and after a few seconds Stiles prodded, "What, what is it?"

"You don't have to answer, but if you do, answer honestly. I would rather your silence than lies. And it's okay if you don't have the answer." Derek resumed the circles.

Stiles leaned his head up and looked at him searchingly. He put his hand on the side of his face and swept broad lines along his cheekbone. "What is it?"

"Why are your lights on at three am?"

Stiles scoffed and pushed lightly on his chest. "Because I can't sleep dumbass. Why are you seeing my lights on at three am." He asked rhetorically.

His heart hadn't skipped, but it quickened. Derek looked contemplative and serious. "Because I was lonely. Because nighttime feels like the kind of peace around you that you can't help but pull it inward. Because I work the night shift. Because some days it's hard to face myself, but nighttime is made to shadow sin. Because I like to look at the moon. Because sometimes daytime is too stressful. If you want a more recent answer, because my cute neighbor is up then too. And since the first time I saw him I knew he was the type of beautiful that sunlight burned with insincerity, but moonlight kissed with truth. I'm up because sometimes my body just doesn't want to sleep no matter how tired I am." His eyes had a piercing quality. "Why are your lights on at three am?"

Stiles looked down.

"There's stuff I can't tell you. At least not yet. It's not just my secret to tell. I don't want to lie to you, but there is just this one thing, this one side of me that you aren't ready for. But I will be honest about it as soon as I can be."

Derek knew he was honest. Christ, Stiles was the most brutally honest person he'd ever met. Rarely did his heart skip a beat when Derek wasn't doing something to cause it. But every once and awhile Derek could tell he was trying to not lie. Trying not to keep anything, but also not giving. Derek was okay with it. Because even in his big secret Stiles was being open and honest with him... Even with the things he couldn't be. "Okay." Derek nodded.

Stiles' head shot up. "Okay? Just okay? No interrogation? No dramatic, 'What how could you?' come on, where's your sense of flair?"

Derek knew he was trying to hide his genuine shock.  "I trust you, remember? Trust me and tell me about what you can. If you can't tell me it, don't lie. There's things I can't tell you yet either, but I will."

The man still looked like he was trying to peer through his eye sockets to find something that was etched in the back side of his skull. He must've found it, because his air of defensiveness left him in such a big whoosh Derek could almost taste the change in the air.

"I'm awake, because I have insomnia. I'm awake, because my brain won't just shut off sometimes. I'm awake, because if there's a problem that needs solving, I can't sleep until it is. I'm awake, because I was lonely too. I'm awake at night because I'm good at coding and if I do it at three am the only person I have to lie about it being fulfilling is myself. I'm awake, because failed dreams don't belong in the daytime. I'm awake, because in the mornings I itch to solve cases and help people while doing my dream job, so it's easier to just sleep through them. I'm awake, because I'm too tired to sleep. I'm awake, because there's this sleeping beast inside me that slumbers enough for both of us, and sometimes I am terrified if I sleep too much I will awaken to it having woke up before me. I'm awake, because I am scared."

Derek could smell the saltiness of tears. "Scared of what? Something other than me?"

Stiles gripped him harder. "You're a part of it. Well, more like this is the reason you scare me so much."

Derek rubbed up and down his back and waited.

"I'm scared of my life. I'm scared of my future. The only easy part about high school was I knew where I fit in. I was the sheriff's kid. I was up to no good. I was a nerd. I wasn't popular. Scott and I were the most important thing in each other's lives other than our parents. Now it's just like, I'm adrift. Do I stay in Beacon Hills? Do I leave? Are me and Scott still best friends? Should I date, or should I be happy alone? Should I do this job or that one? Should I tell Scott that he should stop being such a cabbage and just marry her already? Should I be encouraging my dad to get back out there more? Should I buy this or do that? It's all of these choices that will shape my future and I'm terrified to make the wrong one. And you know, I can actually see it. My perfect life. The life I think I could never deserve but want to be able to one day. I see it all. And the thing is, I'm great at plans. I made them for everything, but how do you plan for your entire life when so much could go wrong? And it terrifies me. It terrifies me that I could break it. That if I don't do one thing exactly right I'll ruin all the other things. Or if I try one of the things it will break all of the others. I don't want to do that. I can't. Because I see that life for me, and I don't see how I could be happy in another, so I just- I don't mean to- I just accidentally- I-"

"You wreck things before they can break. You turn down jobs because they're your dream job, but you don't have the rest of your dream yet. You push people out of your life, because you don't have all of the people you want in it. You don't build a home that will feel hollow with just you in it. You try to hurt yourself before anyone else can do it for you, I know the feeling." And my god, did Derek. It was like hearing from himself. As Derek finished he could smell the relief coming off of him in waves.

"I don't mean to wreck it, I just do. And some nights I just panic, because how could I be that stupid? Others, I just feel so numb to everything. I don't know how to get to where I want to be and it's fucking terrifying."

Derek nodded. "I guess I don't think about my future. I'm just waiting for it to be taken from me. I know I want to be there for my sisters and my friends, but long term I don't have a clue what I want. It's always just what I have in front of me. I love my job. I have a workable apartment. Things like that matter, but I don't think about them long term."

"Wow. I can't even imagine that. Not thinking about every possible thing."

Derek shrugged. "I usually only think about what could go wrong."

"What do you see going wrong with us?"

"Most of the time? You getting tired of me and just waking up on day wanting to leave."

Stiles laughed. "Well that's bullshit. We already talked about how hard it is for me to get to sleep."

They both had soft unseen smiles.

"Will you tell me about it? What you see for yourself? Do you feel comfortable sharing that with me?" Derek was a little bit worried to see if he would somehow fit into his dream.

"We've swapped enough bodily fluids for that to not be a crazy request."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Will you tell me what you see? What you see for yourself, your future?"

Stiles sighed contemplative. "I see Scott and Allison happily married with kids. At least two, who call me uncle Stiles and I spoil rotten. I see my dad happy and healthy. Hopefully, with someone that makes him even happier and enforces the no double bacon cheeseburgers rule. I see my friends happy and safe, never too far away. I see the town safe, not necessarily quiet because I'd get bored, but manageable."

He paused long enough for Derek to realize he was done. "And for yourself?"

"That's a bit trickier. I see myself working from Beacon Hills. For the FBI as a profiling and strategy consultant. I see my Jeep still clunking around. I see a house. A big one. Not the type you would buy because it was cheap or convenient. The type that you only get when you're ready to fill it. I see family and friends gathering at our place. I see a spouse, a husband."

He seemed shy admitting that and Derek grinned. "Does this spouse have, and I quote, 'The cheekbones of an Adonis and the ass of Captain America.' by any chance?"

"In all my fantasies before they were amorphous. Never male or female for sure. Well, except when I pictured Tom Hiddleston or Jennifer Lawrence. They never looked like any one thing. They were just a concept. Now, he has the most amazing eyes. You would swear they were green, but then again maybe they're a little bit of everything."

Derek was grinning before, now he was beaming. Tears almost pouring out of kaleidoscopes.

"I see a couple of kids. Maybe fostered. But fostered, adopted, surrogate it doesn't really matter." Stiles shrugged. "I want to feel like I'm important to people. Like I'm the person they can't wait to see when they get home. I want to have a home. One that no one can ever take away or claim, because it's mine. People shouldn't be able to take homes from people. Before anything else I have to make sure what is mine, can't be taken."

"I don't think homes should be taken either. Even if you leave, that doesn't make it any less yours. You should have a place for your family, your future. People shouldn't take that from you, they should give it to you."

They just sat there breathing together and clinging to each other.

"If you think about it, what do you see?"

Derek didn't reply right away.

"I don't really know. I mean I know some things. Like I want Erica and Boyd to be there, Issac too if he wants to move back. I want my sisters to be alive and happy. I just want to be a part of a- a family again."

"Would you move back to New York? You mentioned you have family there."

When Erica had asked him things seemed so clouded, now they were clearer than they'd ever been. "No. That is my sister's place. I-" Derek's mind was clear and sure about the future for the first time in awhile. "I have a place here. This is where I belong and I never should've thought otherwise. Besides, I have a reason to stay here now. To build a life. One where I'm happy, in love, and annoyed at my husband. One where I have a family. A job I love, an over bearing boss too. One with kids and a house. Hell, I'd throw in a picket fence to go for the full cliche. One where I have someone to tell all about the family I lost. One with things to keep me on my toes, and people. One where I'm supposed to be."

Derek looked at him appreciatively. "I never knew I wanted that, or that I could. I thought I didn't deserve it, but you've made me yearn for it now. I want a life. I will make a life for myself. And for the people that want to share it with me." Derek's voice had a tone of awe, but certainty.

Stiles laced their fingers together.

Too soon Derek had to disentangle himself for work. As he went to walk towards the door the man caught him by his arm. "At first I thought it was cute and a great story to tell, to see how long we could go, but now I just want to be able to say your name. To hear you say mine. But not yet. There's this thing with Scott. Next Friday night. I'll do that and after it I want to know the name of the man I'm going to build my life with. Next Friday. Okay? After that we can be all cute and shit saying each others names with love in our eyes and all that garbage okay?"

Derek rolled his eyes then nodded. "I'll be ready after Friday too. It's time I made something right. After Friday we can start our lives anywhere in Beacon Hills. It will be ours."

Stiles looked at him with a spark in his eye. "Exactly. It will be ours." He said it like a promise.

---

Stiles' shoulders had been up to his ears the entire week leading up to Friday. Well, until Derek came by to massage them back down. They slept together every night to stave off Stiles' panic attacks. Both of them being soothed by another heartbeat. Stiles tried not to be nervous, but the Malikhai pack had been taunting them all week. Stiles knew it was serious because Jackson flew in. Jackson would only come if Lydia asked, and if Lydia was asking they were in deep shit.

Stiles and Derek had said goodbye that morning with Derek offering words of encouragement in exchange for weak smiles.

Stiles wanted to be more sure. He did. This was their land. They fought every fucking monster that was drawn to Satan's wooden dildo. And no matter how many times they got reamed up the ass they just picked out the splinters and carried on and protected the damn supernatural beacon. Because this was their motherfucking land. This was their home and no body was going to take that. Certainly not some asshole alpha who had no claim besides, 'The pack that abandoned it and left it all to a bunch of teenagers might want it. And they should have first pick because they called dibs.' It was bull.

Stiles' angry thoughts served as a pep talk and his hands stopped their shaking. Scott gave him a reassuring look and Stiles looked back with an affirming nod. They could do this.

They stood shoulder to shoulder in the clearing. All of the people that were important to him were here, Scott, his dad, Allison, Lydia, Jackson. Everyone except him, but he was doing this for him. For the future.

Deaton was off to the side as an intermediary.

Stiles was just about to make a comment about tardiness when Scott stiffened.

Stiles looked to the treeline ahead of them and straightened his shoulders and hardened his face.

Six figures, the same as their number as they agreed, emerged from the trees.

Everyone assessed for a moment.

There was an overly happy voice. "Well, nice to see even a bitten wolf and a human can accomplish showing up."

"And nice to see a born one can disregard tradition and be late." Stiles earned a few snarls.

The snide remarks kept being thrown back and forth till finally Stiles had enough. "This is not your land! You have no right to it!"

The other alpha's second spoke up, "Oh? And you do? True alpha my ass. There's no way he is one at his age and skill level. And one that co-alphas with a human nonetheless. What about the rest of your so called pack? Two weak humans, a lizard, a girl who can scream, and worst of all, a hunter." Her fangs grew as she spit out the last word like poison. "You're not a pack. You're an after school club that needs to go down for a nap. Grandpa too."

Stiles chuckled. "Debating our pack's strength will get you nowhere. You could've taken this land right after the Hales left, but you didn't. We took care of it. We made sure this land's people lived. We kept those who wished it harm, out. We made this our home and you can't take it without breaking the most sacred of laws and traditions. This is our land, it is ours. As we have taken care of it, it too shall take care of us. As we dwell within it, it dwells within us. As we draw on it's power, it draws on ours. As we are a part of this land, this land is a part of us." Stiles recited just like the book he read said. He took his father and Scott's hand and the pack linked hands. Stiles smirked. "In other words, I speak for the trees bitch."

His eyes began to glow and the wind picked up. The trees around them all began to bend. The branches closest to their pack shielded them while the other pack was batted and scraped.

The wind died down. The other pack looked pissed, but knew better than to challenge a pack on their own turf with even numbers.

Their alpha turned to Deaton with a sickly sweet smile. "Druid, I request you let one more person enter the circle of sanctuary. No harm will come of anyone, but they will shed some light on how this is their land. They recently changed their minds about some things. And since the rituals of claim need till tonight to solidify, their claim is as valid as any. This is their birthright after all." He said with a sneer towards Scott.

Stiles had a momentary freak out. What if Laura changed her mind? But she said she wouldn't. She gave her word. This was likely some sort of trick.

Deaton looked to him and Scott. They both shared a brief look then nodded to him. Deaton spoke steady and clear. "One can draw near, but they may not cause harm nor fear." A small break in the barrier was broken and they could see outside the circle.

Derek walked in and both Stilinski men stood stock still with shock. Derek looked to the other alpha and nodded before scanning both packs. He looked guiltily at the sheriff before freezing at the man next to him.

"What are you doing here?" Two voices demanded in unison.

Stiles crossed his arms. "You first."

The chill and guard in his eyes hurt Derek. "I came to claim this land."

Just as easily as the bond took hold, the pack felt it ripped from them to neutral territory.

Scott nudged Stiles. "You know him?"

Stiles squinted. Was this all just some ploy from the other pack to steal their land? Had this stranger really cared? Stiles looked into those eyes he had trusted till the moment they walked through the barrier. He was conflicted and confused. "I don't know."

His dad stepped forward. "Derek son, your alpha already forfeited this land. What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm sorry sir." He did look apologetic.

Stiles' eyes widened. "Derek?" His neighbor's eyes looked over to him. Had this all been some big lie? Had Derek been there to surveil him? And what, he just got bored and decided to play with his emotions? Stiles' face hardened once again. "You have no right. Your pack abandoned this land. Your alpha isn't here to claim it. You have no right to take from us. We protected this land. We cared for it, we bled for it! It is ours!" Stiles was speaking with force and anger.

That smarmy bastard had another smirk. "Why would Laura need to come? You see, Derek let me in on the most delicious little tidbit a few days ago. He's an alpha."

Stiles' blood ran cold. If Derek was an alpha, if he wanted the land it was his. His family lived here for generations. Hell, they practically built Beacon Hills. All he would have to do is say the words. If he claimed Beacon he could force them out.

The sheriff spoke with conviction, "Derek's not an alpha. He gave me his word. He gave his word that a Hale wouldn't claim Beacon."

Derek looked up with guilt in his eyes. "I said Laura wouldn't claim Beacon." And just like that the guilt was replaced by crimson.

The sheriff stepped back like he'd been slapped.

"I'm sorry sir. I know this is your pack, but this was my home. My territory. I want to build a future. I intended to take Beacon for my pack."

Stiles nearly flinched with how close the words were. If he just changed the tense they would lose this.

"But I think something might have changed." He turned to Deaton. "May I and one of their pack speak in private?" He motioned to the man next to the sheriff.

Deaton looked to Stiles and he nodded once again.

"Whoa, whoa wait. I'm not letting you go out there with some stranger, Stiles!" He grabbed his arm as he spoke.

Derek nearly growled and slashed at him until he recognized him as Scott. He looked and now that he was paying attention, he had seen all of these people in photos the man, Stiles had shown him.

"It's fine. I can handle it. If he tries anything," Stiles twirled his bat. "This is freshly wrapped in wolfsbane and ready to be shoved up an asshole."

Deaton spoke, "Pass may two, the door will shut until they are through."

The barrier once again opened and Stiles followed Derek out.

It was tense till they saw the barrier close.

Derek stepped closer. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what is even happening." Derek went to hold Stiles' arms, but he stepped back.

"I have granted your request. Speak alpha Hale." His voice was detached.

Derek looked crushed and confused. "No, no. Why are you doing that? No."

"You're the one that showed up to steal my land. After all that talk about home, family, and how no one should have theirs taken from them, you go and do this." Stiles scoffed. "To actually think I believed you. God, I am an idiot. Tell your sister bra-fuckin-vo. She must be one hell of a liar to have taught you so well."

"What are you talking about?"

Stiles looked murderous and he let out a scoff with a small deadly smile. "Oh don't give me that! You can stop lying now. God, after all that bullshit about not lying and being honest." The heat of rage flickered out for a moment and blinding hurt could be seen. "After all that shit about not lying, after me telling you things I haven't even told Scott, after we- I thought- I- I-" Stiles had tears threatening to spill as his voice cracked. "I was an idiot. You never cared for me. All you wanted was to take back Beacon."

Derek's eyes went wide with understanding. "No! No. No. No!" He tried to grab for Stiles again, but that made him grip his bat tighter and Derek decided to explain first. "I didn't give two shits about Beacon until a week ago. My pack and I were content to just live in peace on your land. Like I was a beta. I didn't want the responsibility, the weight of it, but you changed that. I realized I was being selfish. My pack deserves an alpha that provides. They deserve a home. And so do you. You made me want Beacon. You. You did that." Derek smiled at him.

Stiles felt a rock in his stomach. His family was about to lose their home and future because Stiles thought with his dick. After all the trouble he gave Scott. "So take it. You know we can't fight a Hale's claim." Stiles went to turn back to the barrier.

"God damn it, just wait! I wanted Beacon for you!" Derek softened. "For us. For our future."

The picture was starting to get clearer to Stiles. He spoke measured and clear, "Derek. You realize, that if you do this, if you take Beacon and force my family out, we won't have one. My future lies with my pack."

Derek looked overwhelmed. "Jesus, give me a second to figure this all out. I just had everything turned inside out. I wouldn't force you guys away. We would find another way."

Stiles shook his head. "If you claim this land we could never be together. It would feel like I was choosing you over Scott and my dad and my pack. That's something I can't do."

Derek looked lost. "If he claims this land my family's tradition and ties would die."

They stood in heartbroken silence.

Stiles tensed like he was shocked. "What if neither of those things happen?" Derek looked confused, but he continued, "What if they both do?"

"If two rivaling alphas compete, it would go to whoever completed the ritual first."

Stiles smiled wide. "Not if they weren't rivals or competing. What if we all claimed the land? I read somewhere that if two people have intent to marry or claim each other, they can share a territory until their bond is solidified."

"What are you saying?"

"Derek, I'm going to ask you something very important."

"Okay?"

"What is your favorite gummi bear flavor?"

"What?"

Stiles looked insistent.

"Orange. Why?"

Stiles looked gleeful. "All Stilinski's hate orange flavor. As soon as I found out Scott loved them I knew he was a keeper. I have something else important to ask you." Derek still looked confused, but was going with it. "I know we are no where near ready for it, but do you, somewhere in the very very distant future see yourself agreeing to eat orange gummi bears for the rest of your life?"

Derek looked confused before looking very freaked out. "Are you asking me to get married?!"

"No. Well, yes. But not until very very far in the future. It doesn't actually have to happen, the intent just has to be there in order to claim the territory. So if you have intent to marry the Stilinski alpha, three people can technically claim the territory, because Scott is the werewolf alpha, not just the human one. The human alpha would claim the territory and their pack alpha and their intended would also have equal claim on the territory."

Derek still looked freaked out and like he was going to throw up.

Stiles started dragging him back. "Magic wall, we're ready."

Derek's eyes widened. "No! No we're not!"

The barrier opened and Stiles shoved both of them through.

The air was tense and more than one person had claws out.

Stiles bulldozed ahead anyway. "We have a solution." He caught all attention. "As the law mandates, if two are intent to marry they can both claim the territory they will one day share. And if one is human, their alpha also has part ownership of the land. In this way three people can claim territory jointly. I declare intent for the Stilinski alpha to one day, very very distantly, to marry the alpha Derek Hale."

Everyone looked shocked, but especially his dad and Scott.

Derek was more red and green than adverts at Christmas time. He yanked on Stiles' arm. "No! Stiles stop! I'm not going to marry your dad!" With that harsh and very loud declaration everyone went deadly silent as they stared at Derek.

"What?" Derek felt like he was in one of those dreams where you'd forgotten your underwear.

Stiles looked calm as he spoke like he was speaking to a child, "Derek. Why would you think I meant you'd marry my dad." It sounded like a statement.

Derek made a wounded noise that seemed like he was saying it was obvious.

Stiles face dawned understanding, but was still carefully blank besides a faint trace of amusement. "Derek. Who do you think the Stilinski alpha is?"

Derek just huffed and threw out an arm to the sheriff like it was the only option.

Stiles narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips to mean, 'Try again.'

Derek stood dumbfounded.

Stiles groaned. "Derek, I'm the Stilinski alpha."

Derek's eyebrows went up to his hairline.

A snooty voice spoke, "Derek, just claim the land already. Your mother would be turning over in her grave if Talia knew what a pathetic bitch and his little human slut were ruining her town, much less that her son didn't immediately put a stop to it."

Stiles found it nice to know that Derek's face could go from, 'I might be a murderer.' to, 'I am two seconds away from ripping you limb from limb.' in two seconds.

"In case you've forgotten, my father was human. My mother welcomed all to her pack and was stronger for it." He had to snarl around large fangs. He grabbed Stiles' hand. "I declare intent to eventually marry the Stilinski alpha."

Stiles reached out for Scott's hand and he took it after a long look and a nod from Stiles.

Stiles spoke, "I declare intent to one day, a really mother fuckin long time from now, marry the Hale alpha Derek."

Stiles squeezed their hands and they spoke in unison. "We claim this territory." All of their eyes briefly flashed red.

Derek was still snarling. "Now get the fuck out of our territory before we declare intent to kill you for daring to use my mother's name like that."

"You can't-"

Deaton dropped the circle of sanctuary.

Stiles had a shark-like grin. "As we take care of it, it takes care of us." His eyes glowed as the wind whipped and trees and vines started to chase them out.

It was calm and still.

Stiles broke the silence. "So... Who wants pie?"

His dad grabbed him by the back of the neck. "Stiles, did you just get werewolf engaged?!"

"Easy pops! No. I got regular, 'Hey we're dating. This might lead to marriage, let's move in together.'ed.

His dad squinted before cuffing him on the back of his head. "I need pie. Then a nap. Then maybe an explanation as to what the hell just happened."

Scott raised his hand. "Ditto." His mouth dropped open. "Wait! Oh my god, dude! Is this hot neighbor! I thought his scent was familiar! But he didn't smell like a werewolf before when I smelled him on you."

They all looked to Derek in shock.

Allison got there first. "That's hot neighbor? Have my babies neighbor that you wouldn't shut up about is Derek Hale!?"

Stiles groaned. "Pie first. Then embarrass Stiles to death please. I want to go out on a full stomach."

An unidentified female voice spoke from behind some trees, "Pie sounds good. Who's treating?"

Instantly everyone was on alert except Derek. "Wait! It's okay. It Erica."

Everyone looked at him like, 'Who's Erica.' except Stiles.

A bombshell blonde walked out followed by a tall quiet black man.

She stepped right up to Stiles and looked scrutinizing. "So this is him?" She looked unsure. "He's so skinny. And nerdy. He doesn't look like he can handle you. He looks like you could eat him alive."

Stiles expertly, and impressively twirled his bat then rested it on his shoulder with a lecherous smile. "Believe me, he already has. Multiple times."

Her face lit up. "Ooo Derek, I like this one! Let's keep him!"

Derek turned to Stiles. "I will buy everyone as much pie as they want. As long as you promise not to be friends with her."

Stiles put a hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes lovingly. "Derek, I love pie. I would do anything for pie. But if you think for one second we aren't going to make your life a living hell, you've got another thing coming."

Erica laughed and Stiles linked arms with her leaving Derek behind.

Scott gave him a pitying look. "He's just like that, no he will not apologize at any point. Get used to it, or get gone."

The fierce protectiveness reminded him of Laura, but not the alpha in her, the sister.

He nodded. "I'm acclimating fast."

Scott nodded and his normal puppish look was back.

Allison wrapped Scott's arm around her neck and spoke to him as she passed almost as an after thought, "Hurt him and I know the best wolfsbane to make you die the slowest and most painful."

Lydia just gave him a look that was somehow more terrifying that facing down fifty alphas that wanted his head. She hmphed and left.

Lizard man was next. "I hate Stilinski. But if I have to deal with his bitchin and crying I'll paralyze you and by the time I wrap my tail around your throat, you'll be begging me to kill you."

By far none of those comments prepared him for the last one. Especially not coming from a man he respected so much. The sheriff clapped him around the shoulders. "He is my world and the only thing I have left of her that means a damn. If you hurt him, know that you'll hurt five people irreparably. One, him. Two, yourself. Three, me. And son you don't want to cross a man who knows the law. We know how to break it, and get away with it."

Derek swallowed. There was nothing quite like a significant other's parent terrorizing you. "And the other two people sir?"

"It would be awful for your sisters to have to lose one of the only remaining family members they have left. Hurt my boy and I'll put you in a hole God herself couldn't find. And they will never know what happened to you." The sheriff smiled. He walked off.

Derek had never known terror until that moment. His future father-in-law was insane. His boyfriend's friends were insane. He remembered all of what just happened and freaked out.

Fuck. His boyfriend was insane!

---

They rode separately, but as soon as they got there they all squished into the biggest setup the diner had. They all ordered food and ate like they were starved. Everyone was laughing and getting along just as much as they bickered. Erica and Jackson instantly mixed like oil and water, but Boyd and Lydia were deep in conversation. Derek could tell this would work, could feel it.

His eyes were glassy and he felt someone squeeze his hand. He looked down and then over at Stiles. He squeezed his hand back.

Stiles looked happy. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just, thank you."

Stiles tilted his head. "For what?"

Derek leaned over to kiss his forehead and then brought his knuckles to his lips. "For showing me, that homes shouldn't be taken. They should be shared."

Stiles grinned at him and then leaned his head on Derek's shoulder as he finished both of their curly fries.

The terror was worth it. Everything was worth it when it came to Stiles.

The sheriff gave him a soft smile. He leaned over to clap Derek's shoulder. "Welcome to the family son." His attention quickly wandered again.

Derek looked down to a beaming Stiles. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I think I'm just realizing the possibility of something wasn't as dead to me as I thought." Derek smiled with shiny eyes.

Stiles leaned up for a kiss. It was too much grin and a weird angle, but Derek swore it was the best kiss that had ever happened. Stiles pulled back with a fond look. "Welcome home."

Derek ended up paying for everybody's pie.

[strvwberryblcnde]

In the time since Jude had last seen Rosa, he’d almost set his dorm on fire by nodding off with a lit spliff, crashed a car into a brick wall (intent behind this pending investigation) and received a rather squiggly stick ‘n’ poke of a dog with socked paws and an eggplant plump snout on his shoulder, ‘DOG IS GOD’ scrawled finely above. The lettering was still subtly raised, red around the edges to match the rim of his blinks. Sketching arm cast and snug to his chest, Teddy had attempted to roll him his usual abundance with little help from Jude’s perfectionist backseat driving, fingers quaking enough that he couldn’t help but squint in dismay for the entire process. He’d still thanked Teddy for his assistance, though he couldn’t help but eye the line of spliffs like they were a spider thumped relentlessly beneath an obnoxiously heavy bible, eight limbs splayed and crooked on a hardwood floor. He was out back, away from the party’s hub, sat on a bench before a pond which had spawned a sizeable caviar stack of frog’s eggs beneath the shadow cast by a thicket of grass. There was a candle clumsily thumped onto a saucer besides him -- a fine China plate he’d stolen from a cupboard by the sink -- and wax dribbled like an incontinent member of the elderly while the flame swayed, about as graceless as Jude looked, all fractured and bruised, banana paper dangling from his mouth like an exotic jungle moth taken perch. He’d spoken to Rosa, since the rooftop -- little things, here and there -- until suddenly, like a radio tossed into of a bathtub with it’s receptors fried, nothing. No signal, no communication. Then the crash, the swapping seats with a sober passenger, the shifting in a hospital bed as they asked him uncomfortable questions, each floating him up and further away. Forgive me for being frank, but you don’t seem... affected by this. You don’t seem to care that this could have been much worse. “Alright?” he greeted after a short delay, only realising someone had approached when he blinked upwards of the pond, gaging just a silhouette, at first -- then, swift as a backhand to the face, Rosa’s name in his throat, not ready to leave his mouth but not willing to swallow and digest itself, either. His eyes drooped back to the pond, glimmering with the moon, so wet and silver he was half tempted to fish it out with a butterfly net and crack it open in a pan, suck the yolk to poison whatever sleeping werewolf he had living inside him. “Caught me doing my, uh... Dickens stroll of the grounds,” he referenced the candle besides him, suddenly sorry he wasn’t wearing Edwardian pyjamas fit with a pompom tipped night cap, breezeless night doing wonders for the glow’s survival. Like some deity somewhere thought he ought to catch a break, swamp marsh of his brain considered, a no man’s land he’d entered and never returned from, feet firmly lodged and sinking. Engulfed all the way to his neck, his eyelids. “Just saw a fuckin’... particularly handsome frog, leaping about in the reeds. Potential, uh... eyebrow lift, very striking. Member of the Hadid dynasty, ‘s my bet. Got any, uh...” Stall. “Fuckin’... Dunno what’s, uh... Chapstick?” he finished like his mind had stalled, a Nokia operating on a one bar network, eyes on the pond despite their usual obligation to watch her like he’d never watched anything else. There was an apology there, maybe, in his reluctance to acknowledge the need for one. Jude fumbled through these things with the long limbed awkwardness of a giant in a cottage with low ceilings, never particularly sure how to express anything, never sure if he even wanted to try. It felt like attempting fluency in a foreign language he’d never learned, sometimes. Being sincere about anything. Admitting he felt things. “Might, uh... Might pucker up. Kiss a fella back to his true form. Do my bit.” @excvlsior​

[illyrianwingspans]

Do Not Go Gentle: when the party’s over

Link to song: when the party’s over by Billie Eilish (ma queen)

Synopsis: Feyre says fuck it. 

TW: Emotional abuse, non-con near the end, brief mention of physical abuse, dark thoughts. Please, if you're sensitive to the topics, read with caution.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 11: when the party’s over

Relapses come slowly.

They don’t happen overnight: you don’t go to sleep one evening and wake up the next morning with your brain scrambled and fried with darkness and shadows. It doesn’t hit like a wave or a bullet or blunt impact.

Relapses are like parasites. They present themselves slowly, precisely, they’re smart—they know exactly what they’re doing. Relapses know your weaknesses, your Achilles’ heels, they know which strings and blocks to pull in order to make you unravel and come crashing down. But never, never are they fast. Never are they quick and dirty. They take their time and they enjoy it as they slowly suck the life out of you and you’re let with nothing but the shell of the person you once were.

As I stared at myself in the mirror that night, I wondered how I let myself get this far. I wondered why I didn’t just leave, why I didn’t pack my things, cash my cheques, take my money and run. What was it that kept me here? Why didn’t I just…go?

In the shower, I scrubbed at myself over and over again, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong so quickly. Was it me? Was it my mind, prone to these slips?

Was it the man who occupied my bed?

I didn’t know. I didn’t know.

Because no matter how much I racked my brain, no matter how many times I tried to untangle this knot, all I found were more questions. More dead ends. More thoughts, darker than the rest, that were threatening to destroy me altogether.

The mirror was fogged over with condensation. Good. I didn’t want to see the finger-sized bruises peppering my neck.

Because I knew they were there. They were blue and purple and gruesome, and I’d need to cover them up for the next week. Tamlin hadn’t tried to speak to me this morning as he got dressed for work, and I pretended to be asleep. Tonight would probably be another night of unbearable, stifling silence.

But I didn’t care. It felt like somebody had poured cement in my body over night, leaving me stiff and heavy, and my head was filled with this mind-numbing static that wouldn’t go away no matter how much cold water I splashed on my face.

Because another day of silence wasn’t anything new. This silence… it was all I had anymore.

And I found that I’d grown fond of it, and began to fear the noise.

Noise, like the chime of the elevator that had me scrambling to the closet to pull on a turtleneck sweater and some leggings. Starting my day off nude in front of Alis wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She was supposed to stop by at some point today to drop off some groceries, but I didn’t expect her to be so early.

“Hey Alis—” I croaked, voice rough, as I made my way to living room, only the person in the entrance wearing a black, crisp immaculate suit definitely wasn’t Alis.

Rhysand stood in front of me, hands in his pockets, smug amusement pulling the corners of his mouth into a smirk. “Feyre, darling. Looking lovely as ever. Really love what you’ve done with your hair.”

I blinked. Seeing him here was a shock, but honestly I wouldn’t really put it past him at this point.   Crossing my arms, I sighed. “How did you get in here?”

The smirk on his face paused for a moment as his eyes shifted around my face, then settled on my eyes. He shrugged. “You weren’t very subtle when you punched the code in. And Tamlin’s not very creative. Zero three twenty-one, first day of Spring.”

I stared at him pointedly, and the smug faded away. He took in my appearance—really searched my face and wandered my body. It would’ve felt predatory, even suggestive if his face wasn’t filled with concern and sorrow.

My face filled with heat once more, and I turned around, swallowing hard. “Why are you here, Rhys.” It sounded more bored than curious. I knew why he was here, and I didn’t want to hear a word he had to say.

I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know he’d followed me and the scraping of the chair against the floors let me know he sat at the counter bar stool. For a few moments, he was silent as I got the espresso beans from the coffee counter and fired up the machine.

“I miss you making my morning coffee. Nobody makes an Americano quite like you.”

I didn’t say anything. He goaded, “Nothing? No, ‘Thank you Rhys, I’ve missed you too’. No ‘Go to hell, Rhys’. Or my favourite, ‘You’re a prick, Rhys’.”

I stilled and closed my eyes. “Get to the point.” I didn’t have time for his wit or sarcasm. I just wanted to be alone.

His eyes practically burned into my back. I paid him no heed, though, as I poured the milk into the stainless steel steaming cup. Rhys cleared his throat, then said, “I was worried about you. After everything that happened yesterday.”

The din from the street below filled in the silence between us as I tried to find something to say. “You couldn’t have called? Texted? Something a little less invasive?”

“I called you seven times. Both last night and this morning.”

I frowned. I hadn’t checked my phone at all, too preoccupied with…

Absentmindedly, my fingers brushed the collar of my turtleneck. “I’ve been away from my phone.”

“I knew there was a reasonable explanation. But I had to see you anyway. To make sure you were okay.”

The milk steamer whined and I winced, then said over the shrieking machine, “I’m fine. Happy? You can leave now.”

“Feyre.” He sounded hurt, like he was betrayed or something that I couldn’t trust him. “Please. I’ve been searching every possible lead to find the people trying to kill you. You know the police won’t know where to start, they have no clue what happened with Isaac and James.”

Hazel eyes flashed in my mind but I shoved them away.

The bullet yesterday was a blip. I knew I should’ve but I… I just didn’t care.

“I told you Rhys. Let the police handle it, they know what they’re doing.”

“They don’t because they don’t know where to begin. You’re not listed to have any known enemies. Say, I don’t know, people who were killed in an accident at a coffee shop.”

I whirled around to him, spoon still in my hand and pointing at him accusingly. “You’re a real prick, you know that Rhys?”

Rhys stared at me, spoon raised, looking like a madwoman, and grinned. “There’s the Feyre I know and love.”

But there was this…this distraught filling my chest. Like before an earthquake when you feel the ground beginning to tremble beneath you, so infinitesimally, but enough to let you know that the whole goddamn world is falling apart. The blood in my veins froze, then thawed and boiled over until I melted, angry tears in my eyes.

Because this one interaction was probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in the last three months. Even with the wedding, even with the absurdities I dealt with being attached to this whole mess, this one simple conversation was more stimulating than three months living what was supposed to be my perfect life.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he murmured, and I looked up, realizing my cheeks were wet with tears. Rhys’s face was soft as his gaze met mine. And I could tell he knew.

The ring on my finger, though, Tamlin’s words in my ear, made me snap out of it. I wasn’t supposed to talk to Rhys. I wasn’t supposed to even be in the same room with him, lest I wanted to royally piss off my finacee.

And I really couldn’t afford more nights like the last.

“Please, just get out. Leave me alone.” My voice was guttered. There was no winning not for either of us. Though Rhys had been a good friend, one of my only friends, my loyalty was to Tamlin. To the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

The thought shook me to my core.

“Feyre—”

“Get out. Now.”

Rhys didn’t waste his time and slid out of the bar stool, feet swiftly carrying him to the front entrance. I followed behind him quietly, arms crossed in front of my chest as he straightened his jacket and cleared his throat.

“One thing, Feyre,” Rhys said quietly, defeat lining the droop of his shoulders.

“What?”

“It’s Cassian’s birthday tomorrow night. He’d really like it if you came. We’re going to Rita’s at seven.”

Tamlin would never let me go. And I was in no state to go to a night club, let alone with people I didn’t know, because surely there would be plenty more with them. But the kindness in his voice, the gentle, sincere manor with which he’d said it…

“I’ll think about it.”

***

I wanted to hurt him, I realized, as I sat in the bath, filled with bubbles so I couldn’t see my body. Alis had come and gone, the only other exciting part of my day—and I realized, stuck up here with nothing to do, that I wanted to hurt him. Like he hurt me.

Even if it would make things worse. Even if it was stupid, and I was being reckless, immature, infantile, I wanted to hurt him.

If that was going out with my friends, my true friends who had been there for me, then so be it.

Because honestly, at this point, I didn’t know if there was anything else left for me. Hope had flown out the window the second that I’d pulled that trigger. The second that the bullet had whizzed past my face.

The second he’d laid his hand on me.

And I knew, because every time I took a bath, I had to hold my sponge as tightly as possible to keep my fingers from reaching into the drawer beneath the sink and resorting back to my old ways.

***

That night, Tamlin bought me soup.

Soup, and flowers, and chocolates—and remorse. It was all over his face, I could tell when he saw me in the turtle neck, and his eyes had filled with shame. Something softened in me, and I let him pull me into his arms. I let him talk, talk about nothing and everything as we ate in bed together, and he put on my favourite movie.

I let him pull my body into the warmth of his. I let him touch me, intimate in a way we hadn’t been in a while.

I almost laughed when I realized after we’d both finished that he hadn’t taken off my shirt. That it was too painful to remind him of what’d he done, last night, not ten feet away from where we laid intertwined in each other.

So, no, there was no guilt the next day as I donned my warmest pair of dressy heels and a white, thin strapped dress I could layer beneath the black turtleneck I’d worn the day before. There was no guilt as I went out and bought a gift for Cassian using my secret debit card. And there was no guilt when I texted Tamlin saying I was going to Alis’s for her nephew’s birthday party. She wasn’t going to be at reception today, and I knew that tomorrow morning when she stopped by it wouldn’t be too hard to ask her to cover for me.

When seven o’clock came around, I was getting out of the Uber, my stomach in knots as I made my way to the hostess bar and asked, “Reservation for Cassian?”

“Right this way.”

The restaurant was food by day, shots by sundown, and I could see the dance floor in the distance, currently barren. I think I’d been here once, many moons ago in my college years, way before I’d met Tamlin. I also remember puking my guts out in the bathrooms, which only brought a small smile to my face.

It terrified me with each step we took closer to the table. Knowing Cassian, there were probably two dozen people there, maybe a few gym rats, or worse, mousy bimbos—

“Here you are,” the hostess said, and pointed to the table in the corner. Booth style, not too far off the dance floor, with only…

Five people. Five people sat around the circular booth, Rhys and Cassian included—both of whom were laughing heartily at something a gorgeous, jaw-dropping blonde woman who swirled a glass of red wine in her hands.

“Feyre!” It was Cassian who first spotted me, delight in his smile as he stood from where he was at the edge of the table. “You made it!” He slid out of his seat and made forward to wrap me in a hug. I couldn’t help but laugh as his arms squeezed me.

“Jeez, you really need to come back to the gym. You feel like a twig.” He said as he set me down. I punched him in the arm, which earned me whoop and a strangely terrifying smirk of approval from the other, smaller woman with black hair.

“A twig who hasn’t forgotten how to punch,” I said, before sliding into the table beside him. Across from me, looking as immaculate as always, Rhys grinned as he brought his drink to his lips.

“Everybody, this is Feyre Archeron. Feyre, this is Azriel, Morrigan and Amren. But feel free to refer to her as Tiny One.”

“Put a muzzle on it, Cassian. Lest you want spit in your food.” Amren, the asian woman with dark hair and grey, gleaming eyes looked as though she would rather be anywhere but here. She looked like she ate blood for breakfast.

The blonde one, Morrigan, said, “These two always go on and on about you. I’m so glad we could finally meet. Honestly, they’ve been hoarding you all to themselves.”

“For good reasons.” The last one, Azriel, said, voice low and rough like midnight. As I finally took in the dark hair, tanned skin and high cheek bones, I realized that I remembered him. I didn’t know where, but his face—it was like we’d seen each other just the other day.

“You look so familiar,” I said, and Azriel’s head tilted to the side. His face betrayed no emotion, and I could tell by his stiff demeanour that he wasn’t much of a talker. It was like shadows clung to him, like he preferred it that way, blending into the background.

He shrugged, the barest movement of his shoulders. Morrigan interjected, “I mean, he does look a lot like these two idiots.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Mor, that’s no way to speak to the person who signs your pay check.”

“Last time I checked, Mr. Noctis, we aren’t at work. And I may address my cousin however I please.”

My brows shot up as I looked from Mor to Rhys, from Mor’s round, rosy cheeks, fair skin and nearly bleach blonde hair to Rhys’s dark, tan features. I drawled, “Cousins?”

“In the loosest possible term biologically.” Cassian supplied. “Otherwise, they were basically attached at the hip as children. And now I’m stuck with her for every holiday and celebration against my will.”

“I can always return your gift, Cassian,” Mor said sweetly before taking a glass of wine. Then she looked to me and said, “Oh, we must get Feyre a drink. Pick your poison.”

I hadn’t drank in a long while. Usually just champagne or wine at Tamlin’s work events. But it’d been a long while since I had…

“Tequila?” Was the first word that left my mouth. I didn’t know what instinct made me say the most potent of liquors, but the knot in my chest was loosening with every smile and laugh shared around the table. Tonight, I wanted to let loose. I wanted to damn tomorrow and just do this one thing for myself.

For once, Tamlin’s voice wasn’t in the back of my head with a warning. And if that wasn’t a sign…

“Ooh, I like her. We can keep her. Make it two.” Amren said, a wicked smirk on her face. I didn’t know if it pleased me or horrified me.

Cassian jostled my shoulder and gleaned, “You’re gonna drink me under the table bringing the tequila out this early, Archeron.”

The waitress interrupted us, asking for our orders, and I quickly glanced at the menu and ordered the salmon and a salad, knowing I probably wouldn’t be able to finish half of it. And, just before she left, Rhys added, “We’ll also take a round of tequila.”

The evening passed by savoringly slowly, peppered with fine food, strong drinks and conversations that had me stifling my laughter. Cassian, Azriel and Rhys recounted the times they were in the Academy training together and the foolish things they’d pulled on each other—Azriel had stolen Cassian’s clothes and forced him to run buck-naked through the dormitory courtyard—and Mor told me of all the stupidities that came with working retail as a teenager. Amren offered quips and snide comments, and chatted quietly with Rhys about matters that seemed business-related, by the look of seriousness in Rhys’s eyes. His gaze flicked to me, catching me staring at him—I looked away quickly, but not before I saw the small grin on his face.

The meal, as the exorbitant prices promised, was delicious. And as I predicted, I only managed about two thirds of it before a wave of nausea and fullness ran over me and I had to resort to pushing food around the plate for the remainder of the meal. Rhys’s eyes narrowed as the waitress took away the plate, and I looked off towards the expanse of dance floor to conceal the blush flooding my cheeks.

There was cake—was, meaning Cassian ate most of it—then more drinks. Too many, because next thing I knew Mor was laughing and screaming at the top of her lungs against the din of the pounding music, trying to entice the table into dancing with her. Azriel and Cassian immediately stood, the both of them disappearing into the amassing crowd on the dance floor, whereas Amren headed over to the bar looking for something stronger, apparently (as if the other rounds weren’t enough to knock someone as tiny as her on their asses). It left Rhys and I remaining in the booth.

He pointed to the slice of cake sitting untouched before me. “You going to finish that?”

“Hm,” I snorted, “another bite wouldn’t hurt.” The chocolate mousse melted in my mouth and I sighed. Rhys was across from me in the semi-circle, and with the noise of the club, we’d have to shout at each other all night. So I stood, cake, fork and drink balancing precariously in my hands, and slid over until I was beside him.

He looked down at me and wondered, “Didn’t feel like dancing?”

“I’ve got two left feet.” I replied before taking another bite, my eyes wandering over his seated silhouette. Tonight he hadn’t worn his usual immaculate suit, but instead opted for a black silk-like button down and black jeans, tailored to the very inch. From beneath the collar of his neck, I could see the hint of a tattoo, and my brows shot up.

“You have a tattoo?”

His fingers tugged gently at the collar of his shirt. The movement sent a draft of something sweet in the air, like citrus and jasmine. A refreshing, comforting scent that had me leaning back against the plush leather. “It’s customary for people in my culture to get these tattoos.”

“Where are you from?” I wondered, fingers wandering over to my drink (though I knew full well I should’ve been slowing down).

“Illyria,” he answered, and pointed vaguely to the dancing crowd, “as are Cassian and Azriel. My mother was Illyrian and we were raised on the reserve. My father didn’t particularly like that, thought I should’ve been in the city with him, but my mother didn’t particularly care about what my father thought.”

Sipping from my drink, I nodded politely. I’d never been to the Illyrian reserve, which was an hour or so north of the city, though heard about it here and there in the news. Mainly about land disputes and rich assholes trying to buy it out. Now, looking at Rhys, the distinctive striking features made perfect sense.

“You can stare all you want. I consider it volunteer work, letting you gawk at me so openly.”

My cheeks heated and my mouth dropped open. I scoffed, “Gods, now I know why your only friends are your employees.”

“Keep your friends close and your payroll closer.” He gave me a wink, and I rolled my eyes. My gaze wandered off to the dance floor, where I could spot Mor in the distance flailing her arms—gracefully—and swaying from side to side in her bright red, skin tight dress. Cassian and Azriel were alongside her, though Cassian’s eyes were fixed on another woman who’d fallen into step with him, a slick, seductress smile on her face. Rhys shook his head at the sight, despite his cheeky grin, and I only laughed as I took another sip.

“Why aren’t you out there with them?”

At that, Rhys also took a long sip. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally said, “I prefer your company far more to their sweaty…” he looked over, just in time to see the woman unabashedly grinding against Cassian, “‘dancing’.”

“Glad to know I rank a step above that.” My eyebrows raised emphatically, and Rhys’s face broke into a smile. I said, “Reminds me of my college days.”

“You went to college?”

“Prythian University,” I nodded, “two years only. I was part of a sorority for a while, though.”

His mouth fell open in surprise. “Oh, Feyre darling, you must tell.”

***

The rest of the night went…easy. I wasn’t worrying. There was no impending panic. There were no fears. Part of it had been the alcohol, yes—it’d loosened what’d been wound so tight for so long—but being here, being with people, laughing with friends… My mind, despite the haze of alcohol, felt clearer than it had in days.

Talking with Rhys was easier than breathing. It started with my college days, then to his studies abroad—peppered with some particularly interesting sexual experiences in foreign countries—then moved onto how he’d met his friends, which he assured me, were family first, employees secondly. Cassian had been abandoned in the Illyrian village, left to fend for himself in an inexistent, permanently drunk foster family, and Rhys could tell by the way the boy never had a lunch at school. CPS hadn’t gotten involved because of the abhorrence that was dealing within the torrid laws regarding indigenous communities, which meant Cassian was stuck. Rhys had found Cassian shivering in the cold at recess—his family hadn’t gotten him a winter jacket—and decided to bring him home to his mother. She’d been furious at first, but Cassian returned the next day, and the day after.

The same had been for Azriel, though the details were much more vague about the man cloaked in shadows. It was a gruesome tale, being an illegitimate son, constantly berated and beaten by his parents and older brothers. He’d gotten the gnarled, scarred hands because they thought a fun experiment would be to douse Azriel’s hands in gasoline and set them on fire. When Rhys came home with another stray, this time his mother didn’t even bother with fury. Only set to buying another cot to be squeezed in next to the two other boys.

Amren, though, met Rhys much later—in his college years, after the academy. She was an upperclassmen he’d met at a bar and tried to hook up with, to which she responded by humiliatingly laughing in his face. Rhys admitted he’d never felt more undignified than when Amren was doubled over in stitches at the thoughts of sleeping with him. Yet still, they’d become fast friends, and even faster business partners. Amren was the top of her class in law school, one of the smartest people he’d ever met, and as soon as he seized control of the company, his first order of business was hiring her as his second in command and chief legal officer.

The second order was to hire Morrigan—simply Mor—as his chief experience officer. Her and Rhys’s father had been the most invested in the company being the two major shareholders, though Rhys’s father shares made Keir’s, Mor’s father, look like pennies. Mor’s childhood had been a series of parental pressure, encouraging her to be wed off to exemplary, rich suitors Keir consistently tried to set her up with. She’d been engaged to marry one of them, Eris, son of Autumn Publishing’s CEO, not of her own volition. Rhys didn’t mention any specifics, only that it’d ended horribly, and Mor had never been the same since. But she was fiery, determined, and Rhys could only describe her as his best friend (though he made me promise to never mention that to her).

At some point, Mor had to come peel Rhys and I away from the booth—despite our vehement protests—and drag us onto the dance floor. The whole lot of us were jumping, screaming at the top of our lungs, and pounding back more liquor as the night sped along. I danced with everyone (Amren compromised by allowing us to dance near where she was seated by the bar), even Rhys, whose hands had been soft and warm as they wandered down the skin of my arms and shoulders. Cassian and I shimmied, Mor and I fake tangoed, even Azriel gave me a few twirls, not before it felt like the liquor was going to come straight back up, and I had to take a seat. The plush back of the booth seemed comfier than when I’d first sat down at the beginning of the night.

“Feyre?” Cassian asked. I opened my eyes, not having realized they were closed in the first place. Exhaustion had hidden just far enough away from me to have not noticed it drenching my bones. Beads of sweat had gathered on Cassian’s forehead from all the dancing. My tongue felt limp and heavy in my mouth, and the room felt as though it was spinning.

“Yes, my good sir?” I grinned sheepishly. Cassian’s mouth fell open in amused shock.

“You’re drunk,” he chortled.

“Pfft. Am not.”

“Are too,” he said, letting out another laugh. “Dear gods. What are we going to do with you?”

“Let me have some fun!” I whined, then knocked back the rest of my glass. My fingers groped at  my throat as if they could ease the fire slithering in my chest. It burned all the way down, like I knew it would burn on its way back up—but I wanted more. This excitement, this pleasure, no matter how clouded or distorted it was, was all I had anymore.

“Let’s slow down, there, you’ve had a lot tonight.” Cassian suggested as I tried to wrench myself up from the table to get more. My butt hit the cushioned seat once more, body bouncing slightly with the impact. It made me laugh.

A laugh that slowly melted away as I took in Cassian’s sombre gaze, trained on my mouth. No, not on my mouth, I realized, but lower. My neck.

My stomach dropped. The neckline must’ve shifted, already it’d barely covered them in the first place—

Cassian’s eyes were burning when they met mine, and it was like my head was dunked into ice cold water, and I was sober in the span of a heartbeat.

“Feyre,” he breathed, and it was like the rest of the club disappeared.

I didn’t waste another second. He’d already known too much, and by some sort of miracle had kept it to himself, but this—this would ruin Tamlin and I. Quickly, I scrambled to find my bag, and pulled out my phone to call an Uber.

Only to find twenty two missed calls, and over fifty text messages from Tamlin. The earth dropped out from underneath me. My chest collapsed as I realized how horribly, horribly wrong this had all gone.

I should have never stepped foot outside the apartment. I should’ve just grinned and bared it instead of creating this steaming shit storm raining down on me.

Cassian was shouting something over the music, and I couldn’t hear him as I pressed away from the booth, heading to the club’s side door entrance where the smoker’s were. A voice called out my name, and I turned around to look over my shoulder—

To bump face first into a hard, male chest, sending me nearly teetering to the floor. When I looked up, an apology already on my tongue, every nerve in my body jumped as my eyes met Tamlin’s golden emerald ones, boring into my soul like he would shred it apart with his bare hands.

“I didn’t know Alis’s nephew was turning twenty one,” Tamlin snipped coldly, his fingers tightening around my wrist to the point of teeth-clenching pain.

“Tamlin, please. Not here. Let’s go.”

“What did you think would happen, Feyre? That I’d sit idly by as my wife was out to a child’s birthday party until one in the morning?”

“Fiancée,” I corrected seethingly, my hand slithering between us and pressing against his stomach to get him to move. “Let’s leave.”

“Feyre!” A voice called once more, only it died out right behind me. I sighed, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as I turned to see Cassian standing there, his expression one of stone cold fury as he stared Tamlin down.

Tamlin, the picture of opposition, only laughed. “I see. Alright.” He looked at me, but inclined his head to Cassian. “You came for a quick fuck?”

My face flushed with shame. I couldn’t even look at Cassian. “Tamlin, stop.”

“No, I get it. I understand. I think I have to set the record straight, though.” The only warning I had was the clenching of his fist, and it was the only warning I needed. I acted on instinct and brusquely grabbed my fiancée by his right arm to hold him back. I hate that I knew it was his preferred hand to punch with.

Tamlin whirled on me, his eyes burning with rage. His hand clutched my jaw, fingertips pressing painfully into my cheeks, and I gasped as he pushed me into the wall perpendicular to the exit door. He growled, “Stay out of this. You’ve done enough already, you fucking—”

“Let go of her!” Cassian yelled, striding towards us like he was ready to slam Tamlin through the goddamned door.

Another figure appeared in the background, the same man who’d been outside the door who only uttered, “You two. Out. Now.” Pointing to both Tamlin and I, he signalled for us to step out. Even Cassian paused at the bouncer’s presence.

And behind the bounder stood Rhys, whose eyes were filled with contempt for the man beside me. He’d lowered his hands, thank the gods—I don’t know what Rhys would’ve done if he’d found us like that. Eviscerated Tamlin, most likely.

I just wanted to go home. I wanted the silence back.

“Let’s go, Feyre,” Tamlin said, laying his hand on my shoulder. I flinched at his touch.

We stepped out the door, and I didn’t look back, though I knew their eyes were burning through me.

***

“I told you to never speak to him again.”

I said nothing. It was true. I’d explicitly gone behind his back.

“He was being friendly, Tamlin.”

“You’re not friends. Rhysand is not your friend. How many times do I have to say it to you for you to finally understand?”

He’s more of a friend than you, I wanted to spit, but there was no fire left in me. It’d been strangled out the moment his hands had clenched around my throat, bereft of the oxygen needed to keep on.

“I know you went to see him before the wedding.”

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t even look at him from where I sat perched on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been following me again?”

“Because you’ve been disobeying me.”

Disobeying. The word sliced through me. Like I was no more than his pet.

“He’s the danger, Feyre. He was involved in the operation that nearly got you killed. The day after you went to see him, the day of our wedding, that sniper nearly killed you. Don’t you see it?”

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to draw a map of Tamlin’s ignorance, of all the ways he’d went wrong—I wanted to show him his shortcomings, how foolish he was not to see that he’d dug this grave himself.

But there was nothing left within me. Only a barren of wasteland bestrewed with the ruins of the person who’d crumbled into nothing.

“I’m sorry.” The words were broken jagged pieces I offered to him with bloody hands.

He didn’t respond. Only approached me slowly, carefully, then tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I sighed and leaned into the palm of his hand. Then he was kissing me, pushing me back onto the bed.

Mine, mine, mine—I could see the word in his eyes, feel it with every thrust of his body from behind me, hands gripping my back and pinning me to the mattress. Protect, protect, protect. We both finished, and he rolled onto his side and fell fast asleep.

I curled onto my side, wondering if the tears would ever come. They didn’t. Only silent, dry sobs I tried to stifle with my pillow.

Because I wouldn’t dare shatter the silence I’d finally found at last.

[peicesofrhys]

Bloody Hell

Butch:

-As soon as I was well enough to walk, I was up and moving through the mansion. I didn’t realize what I was doing until I got half way through the process. I was doing a headcount. It was stupid and I knew it but that didn’t stop me from continuing. I needed to know that everyone was here, safe, alright. I couldn’t imagine losing someone else like I lost Mike. I’d already made the phone calls to all of my human family members. They were alive and confused as to why I was calling. Joyce hadn’t been allowed to call them for fear that her husband would find her that way.-

-No one in the mansion knew what I was about either. Here I was barely able to move around, clutching my wounded stomach, trying to look natural with small talk. It was awkward to say the least. Sometimes I gave up all pretenses and did a simple once over of the room before leaving. Let them think what they wanted to, I was chasing a darker feeling that something else was wrong. I was going to find out sometime later that while I was away the Omega slipped through the cracks and took someone else that I cared about.-

-I saved one person for last because I felt that V would have told me if something had happened to our housemate. Suddenly I didn’t know. I was doubting everything. I couldn’t run back to the Pit because my internal organs were busy trying to stitch themselves back together after having a bullet ricochet through them. So I shambled. Quickly. Grabbing the wall often to keep myself upright. Shit. If something was wrong with him I wouldn’t know what to do.-

-I hadn’t even been back to the Pit since Boston. I was stuck in the PT room sucking food through a straw because my stomach couldn’t digest it right. I started moving faster, feeling a sense of urgency that I couldn’t really place. No doubt it was something that I should talk to Mary about. I tucked that into a file for another day, or never, probably never.-

-I punched in the code to the Pit and it seemed like waiting for the beep was taking too long. I hit the door loudly, no doubt looking and sounding like an idiot. Didn’t care. I practically fell through the door when it opened, catching myself at the last minute.-

RHYS!?!! -I belted the name out as loud as I could. Please don’t let anything be wrong with him.- RHYS ARE YOU HERE?!! -Yelling wasn’t helping me any. I pulled something out of alignment, I could feel it. I looked down to the hand that was holding my stomach and saw that it was bloody.- Fuck…. -I slumped to the ground, propping my back up against the wall. Great, now I was going to have to visit the doc again.-

Rhys: 

“You’re a little fucking nancy, aren’t ya?” The young male voice echoed through the headphones as he took charge of the mission. The fuck cut me off and even stole my weapons when he did it too. We’d been at this particular game for nearly four hours now and this twelve year old just played me like chump. What a little prick. 

“Eat shit.” I growled into the mic before pulling the bitchiest of all bitch moves. My fingers moved in a blur across the controller and before he could cross the finish line I murdered our other teammate and used a stolen grenade to blow everyone to kingdom come. Game Over blinked repeatedly on all four screens that were set up in the middle of the room while the rest of the team cursed and yelled at each other. 

I cut it all off with a few keystrokes and sat back in the chair. I was hungry. 

There was contemplation about going up to the main house or just having it brought to the pit. Do I take a chance that someone, namely one of the Brothers, spotting me? The last time I had a run in with anyone other than Vishous, I was met with a snort and growl, some insipid questions and cold stares. I can’t count the times I repeated my story but there were doubts still lingering around this place. You can’t disguise distrust. 

Ordering in it was. I called up for a few burgers, cheese fries and a chocolate milkshake. I would need to feed as well. I hated it so I left that to a later time. It was awkward and I didn’t understand why in the fuck those girls did it so willingly. I never asked either. I’d rather wallow in my ignorance. 

I was finishing up in the bathroom when I heard the code being punched in. Finally. That guy took his sweet time. 

“I’m famished, mate. Did you have to kill the cow or what?” The bang against the door had my brow raised and I looked around the room for a weapon. Yes, I was that jumpy. But before I could locate anything other than a few keyboards and a baseball bat that I think was signed by some guy, the door opened and Butch fell in with a heavy scent of blood following him like a puppy. He was yelling like I wasn’t standing right here but he was in bad shape and probably didn’t even see me. 

“The fuck …?” I was tripping over myself to get to him. “When did you get back and why are you bleeding all over the fucking floor?” No one tells me shit around this place. Not even Vishous. Him and I would be having a talk later. Dick. “And why are you yelling like that? You know I never leave this hell hole.” I laughed even though nothing about this was funny. Well, not that funny. “And whatever his Majesty said I did, I didn’t do … I swear to Lassiter.” 

Butch:

-I blinked a few times to clear my vision.- Rhys? -That was definitely his voice. There was no mistaking that. I was being stupid. Of course he was okay. Everyone was okay. This was just me freaking out. Still... I felt like I could breathe easier knowing for sure. I raised a hand and lightly ran my fingers over his face. Yep. Not me just seeing things. I let out a heavy sigh and let my hand fall.-

I must look like an idiot right now. -I laughed, drooping my head forward.- Obviously you leave sometimes or you wouldn't be worried about what the King was saying about you. -My head tilted to the side and I lifted a questioning brow. There was a story there and it didn't take a detective to figure that out. I almost felt bad for Wrath.-

Swearing to Lassiter sounds really wrong and kinda dirty. I'm still not going to get used to that one no matter what anyone says.

-I braced myself for the pain and pushed up off the ground. I couldn't stay down or they would be taking me out of here in a stretcher and I wouldn't see the outside of a PT room for days. I let out a wicked sounding hiss as I slowly rose. Every ounce of concentration was poured into getting myself the hell off the floor. I hadn't puzzled out how I was going to make it back down the tunnels yet. This was hard enough.-

Rhys: 

Nah, not more than usual.” I quipped. There was no other way to keep my own wits about me with Butch weaving around like he was going to topple over at any moment. “And who said anything about being worried? I was only saying …fecking hell, B.” I moved quickly to get one shoulder wedge under his and an arm around his waist. He had a good six or so inches on me but I could handle it. Or we were both going down. “You think you could drag your ass back to the PT with my help or do I need to find the Candy man or V?” Either way, Butch needed that wound closed up good and proper. 

There wasn’t any time to break out the first aid kit that was stashed near the Toys, not that I had a clue as to what to do. 

I got us through the door but not before I hit the intercom to spit out a S.O.S. “I got a bleeder on the way back to PT. Could use an extra pair of hands or even a small truck.” I chuckled at my own joke. It was nervous in tone with how much of Butch’s weight I took on. It meant he wasn’t doing so hot. I had to bite my tongue so hard it nearly bled to keep from asking what was going on. Where he had been. Who did this to him. I doubted he would answer anyway. 

“Don’t kick my arse for this later.” I winced and shoved my hand down around where it seemed the majority of the blood was coming from and clamped it down as if my life depended on it. “If you can get those feet moving, now would be the time.” 

Butch:

I'm in tip top shape. I don't know what you are going on about. -The room went back and forth and I tried to keep it from tipping completely over.- I don't know but if you could keep the ground from tilting that would be awesome. -I perched it against the wall closed my eyes to keep from getting dizzy.-

Candy man?... -My brain was definitely not firing on all cylinders because it took me too long to figure that one out.- Rhage?! -I huffed out a laugh.- That's a good one. ~The candy man can~ -I started humming the tune halfheartedly.-

Oh. There he is. -I leaned heavily on Rhys when I felt him at my side.- Come on, no need to bother those worry warts. We can make it. -I might have overestimated my ability to put one foot in front of the other.- Come on, Butch. You can do this. You've been through worse than a stupid bullet to the gut. In fact, it was just the other day that you got your ass beat into the floorboards. This is nothing.

-I was mostly rambling and it came out all halted, in half steps. I felt bad for Rhys cause there was no way we were going to make it all the way there but I was too damn stubborn to worry anyone else over it.-

Look! It's the door! -I took a stumble step and almost fell again when I tried to swat away his hand from the intercom.- Well shit... Now you've gone and done it. You know the Mother Hen is going to descend upon us any minute now. 

-I didn't get much more out because Mr. Wise Guy decided to apply all the damn pressure in the world to the wound.- HOLY SHIT!!! -I fell into Rhys, grabbing onto him tightly. My stomach turned to the spin cycle and I puked down Rhys's back.-

Rhys: 

I froze. It took my mind a moment to wrap around the fact that Butch just emptied the contents of his stomach down the back of my shirt and possibly my pants as well. The scent clogged my nose and I immediately ceased breathing. Not entirely but enough that I could manage to keep the bile that rose in my throat down. 

“Yeah … we are going to chat about that later.” I gritted out through clenched teeth. “Bloody hell.” 

Before I could force Butch to back the fuck up out of the door, Rhage appeared. And oh was he amused with the situation happening here. ‘I ran my ass off for this? C’mon.’ He was all grin and lollipop but he managed to get most of Butch, who was limp noodle by now, over his arm and down the hall way with me taking up the slack. I most likely wasn’t needed in this scenario but my hand was still clamped over the wound. ‘He will be fine if you want to run back to your hole, Rhys.’ Rhage was still all smiles when he said the words but the glare was obvious. Besides Butch and V, he was the least likely of the Brothers to kill me in my sleep. Didn’t mean he liked me. 

“I think I’ll stick around this time, fuck you very much.” I muttered. Rhage shrugged and we continued on to the PT suite. 

Butch:

-It took a few minutes of haze to realize what I'd just done. Oh damn, he was never going to let me live this one down. You don't just throw up on someone and expect them to be cool afterward.- I. Am. SO. Sorry. Sweet Jesus... -I couldn't emphasize that more.-

Oh look! It's the Candy Man! -There was a lot of grunting and groaning involved with shifting the rest of my weight over to Rhage. I hated how useless I was right now. My feet were nothing more than decoration. All of my weight was between these two guys.-

-From my unique position between the two I could actually feel the tension. If I had thrown up on one of the Brothers Rhage would be slinging all kinds of quips back and forth. It would be natural and expected. This was far from it. It wasn't open hostility, but it was close.-

Knock it off Rhage. He's holding my intestines in right now. Don't make me puke on you too. I don't think I have much left to give up. 

-I tried to move my feet to keep up but it was pretty apparent that such action was fruitless. I gave up and all but rag-dolled it between the two of them. So stupid of me to run out of there when I did. What was I thinking?-

Everyone is safe... That's all that matters...

-I knew I was mumbling at this point and no one was probably listening anyway. Who cares? I had made sure that everyone I cared about was free from the Omega. I passed out before I reached the PT suite, drifting silently into a darkness that I'd been avoiding.-

Rhys:

I shook my head at Butch. “He’s fine. A bit of a knob but he can’t help himself. It’s all the sugar.” That earned a raised brow from Rhage. A good one. As if he were surprised at the come back. Not that it was anything great. But I was the new guy. New-ish. I’ve been here for a few years now but that was like mere moments when it came to this race. 

‘I’ll send the doc in.’ Rhage stated. He stood by the door for a moment after he got Butch situated in the private room. ‘Shower is just past that door and there are some scrubs in the closet. It’s good you called for help, Rhys. We will always come for one of ours.’ Rhage nodded and left me alone with an unconscious cop. I won’t lie. I smelled like death and rotten hot dogs and something I didn’t want to think about. There was a moment of hesitation about leaving Butch there, knocked out, exposed while I changed but when the doc walked in and gave me a gobsmacked expression, I hightailed to the shower. 

The scrubs were three sizes too big. I don’t know if Hulk practiced medicine here as well or if I was /that/ much smaller than these guys but damn. Maybe I needed more use out of the gym that was always open with fighters learning … to fight. Fight what? Don’t have a clue. All conversations ceased when I walked in a room. I was given the information that I needed which wasn’t much. A cock tease really. 

The doc finished up with a nasty looking wound on Butch with a quiet pace that I was left in awe of. I had seen her briefly. Once when I came to the house and two times more for a few blood tests and such. Someone, most likely the king guy, was giving it a go to figure out what I was. Good luck to him. I’ve been trying that for my entire life. 

‘He’s fine.’ A soft voice floated across the room. ‘Make sure he stays put though would you. And he needs to feed. Soon.’ There was zero concern about leaving me with him. No, there was nothing but concern and affection? I couldn’t place the feeling that this female gave off but it was a nice change. 

 “Ah. Yeah … one of those girls. Got it.” I nodded. Because I knew how to summon the blood angels. Sure. 

Then I was left with Butch. It was quiet. The whir of a machine that had a display next to him and the distinct thump of six chamber heart. The way he was bleeding all over the pit I wasn’t sure if it would still be going strong by the time we got here. Rhage seemed less concerned which was oddly comforting. This has happened before. There was a leather chair that I dragged across the linoleum floor and plopped my ass in it. 

“One time,”  I began, ‘this really big prick of guy puked all over me for saving his life. There he was bleeding out like an arsehole and he goes and loses his lunch all over my favorite shirt.” I lowered my voice as if telling a secret. “Little does he know, it was one of his, had all these designs on it. Gucci? Something expensive I’m sure. Anyway, he’s going to be right pissed when he realizes I just tossed into the hazardous waste bin.” 

I went on with stupid little quips. Filled Butch in on the goings on in the world of Fortnite. How that bitch of kid stole all my shit. Remarked on Fritz impeccable culinary skills and how I’d manage to befriend Lassiter. That dude was all metal and sunshine and oddness. But I liked it. 

At some point I drifted off mumbling about Maury and did what I always did … I fell right into a place I’d never been. A house. Butch was there. Yelling. Fighting some white haired fellows like that one who shot me. This was different. I felt the ominous stench of evil like it was a layer of sweat on my skin. I thought I was screaming. I swear I was. My eyes flew open to see the harsh fluorescents of the PT room and my mouth was wide open like a fly trap but no sound was coming out. I was frozen in the chair though my eyes scanned the room to find Butch still out like a light. Snoring like a bear. What felt like an eternity ended up being just a few minutes and I was free from the paralysis that gripped me after I wondered into someone else’s subconscious. We were working on it yet it freaked my shit out and now … there was an awareness to what Butch had been through these past months. A subtle ache bloomed in my chest and I found myself clawing at it before I shut my eyes again. 

[sososdelightfullydumbimagines]

Stray kids reaction to sharing a bed with their s/o for the first time

Requested: Yessss Thanks to @ep-ip-ha-ny

Summary: How would the boys react to the first time you two slept in the same bed

Warnings: Mentions of puking and insecurities

Hey babes! I hope you guys enjoy, I'm sorry this took so long I went a little over board with this. Don't forget to request!

-Admin SoSo

Chan:

It had been a long day. For both you and Chan. He sent you a message asking you if you could comme over the dorm. You quickly agreed. You changed your route and headed for the dorm. Once you reached your destination you promptly knocked on the door. Chan opened the door and dragged you inside. You barely had the time to greet the other boys who were hanging out in the living room. Chan hauled you into his room. Once he closed the door behind you, you pulled him back towards you.

"Chan - Chan, what's wrong you haven't said a thing since I got here..."

"Nothing's wrong. I just really need to spend time together..." He looked down, sheepish

"Alright, are we watching a movie?"

"Yeah, yeah..." You both laid down on his bed and Chan pulled his laptop closer. You snuggled closer to him for some warmth. After two or three movies, your eyes started to droop.

You were dozing in and out of conciousness and Cham noticed. He held you tighter until you officially fell asleep.

He felt nervous. Very nervous. Although he felt nervous it felt right. He knew it would only be the first of many. He loved to be in bed with you after a long day.

Woojin: 

You felt cold, cold and scared. Usually your nightmares weren't this bad. But tonight you were scared and you didn't know what to do. No matter what you did you couldn't fall back asleep. You had nothing else to do but to call Woojin, he was the only one who could calm you down when you were like this. You picked up the phone and dialled his number. The phone rang a couple of times before Woojin picked up.

"Hello?" It was clear you woke him up, guilt bloomed in the pit of your stomach

"Hey, umm c-could you come over?"

"Yeah, of course. Is everything alright?"

"No actually, not really..."

"Alright I'm on my way. I'll be there in five" Shuffling was heard in the background. You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your chin on your legs.

There was a knock on the door and you scampered to the door ripping it open. You dove straight into his arms. You some how shuffled into your bed. He pulled you onto his chest and rubbed your back.

He felt nervous but his protective instinct took over. He just wanted to take care of you. He would do anything for you including scaring away the nightmares.

Minho:

Your breath was shaky. You couldn’t contain your sobs. You were hunched over the toilet puking your guts out. You felt like crap. You were supposed to meet up with Minho soon for a date but you definitely couldn’t make it. You shot him a text briefly explaining the situation. You were too preoccupied with not puking that you didn’t hear the door open and close. Suddenly, a voice called out

“Y/n?!” Your head dropped against the toilet seat.

“In the bathroom!” Soft footsteps made their way to you

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been better...”

“How about we get you to bed?” He slowly pulled you up and walked you down the hall. Making sure not to rattle you, he slowly pushed you on the bed and tucked you in.

“Minho, wait! Don’t go... please” He smiled softly and laid down with you.

He loved taking care of you, because he knew you would also take care of him. He loved you in the purest form and would do anything for you.

Changbin:

There were suppose to be six beds. Eight of the boys were going to share four of the beds and then you and the remaining member were going to have one bed. But of course there were only five beds. Meaning you and the other member had to either share a bed or somebody had to sleep on the floor. The left over boy was Changbin. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable by offering to sleep in the same bed. Looking at him you reviewed your options.

“I could sleep on the floor” you offered

“No, no. How about we both just sleep in the same bed.”

“Alright” You felt grateful he offered it first.

He didn’t want to snuggle too much so that the boys don’t see it and poke fun at him. He’d feel super soft and warm inside. He was certainly grateful for that missing bed.

Hyunjin:

It’s hard being in the lime light all the time. The judgement, paparazzi, tabloids, the stress. He could feel overwhelmed at times. Unfortunately, today was one of those times. He called you asking if he could come over. You waited patiently for him on the couch. 

The door clicked open. you stood up to meet him in the hallway. When you saw him he dove for your chest. He held onto you tightly letting out a chocked sob. You wrapped your arms around him in hopes of comforting him.

“C-Can we go cuddle?” He let out softly

“Yeah, of course...” You both walked to your room and laid down. He put his head on your chest. Hearing your heartbeat comforted him.

Hyunjin didn’t feel nervous at all. You were his safety blanket, his little teddy bear. Nothing could ever touch him when he was with you.

Jisung:

It was your weekly movie night with Jisung. You were cleaning up your place and laying out some snacks for the both of you. Tonight was all about Christmas movies. A knock resonated in the apartment. You headed for the door and let him in,

“Hey”

“Hey” He looked horrible. Exhausted, sweaty and pale. Like he just ran a marathon.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m just a little tired...”

“How about we take a little nap and watch the movies later.” You pulled him closer and ran your fingers through his hair. Heading towards your room you ignored the awaiting living room.

You both dropped onto the mattress and quickly doze off.

Jisung really didn’t over think it at first. The next morning he did get shy but more rested than ever. So expect him to drop by more often for a nap.

Felix:

It was the big finale. You and Felix had been battling it out for the whole day now. Who was the best at Mario Kart. Up to now it was a tie. Understandably it had been a very high energy and intensity. No wonder your eyelids were so heavy. With Felix’s voice droning on and on, the warmth of the blanket strung over your lap and a tummy full of junk food, just made you even sleepier.

“Babe... y/n do you wanna go to bed?” You cracked your eyes open to see him hovering above you. 

“Yes please.” He slipped his arms under your knees and behind your back. He carried you over to his bed and slipped in after you. He drew your back closer to his chest and buried his nose into the crook of your neck.

He felt totally at peace. After such an amazing day with you, it only made sense to finish it with you. You were always high energy with each other it felt nice to spend some calm time together.

Seungmin:

Your stomach was in a knot and your heart was launching itself into your throat. Earlier that day you stood at his door with your bag under your arm. It was the first time you and Seungmin were gonna sleep in the same bed or even the first time you two had a sleepover.

Now you were getting ready for bed. Brushing your teeth while shooting subtle glances at each other through the mirror. 

“Are you ready to get to bed?” asked Seungmin. You spat out the rest of your toothpaste into the sink and slipped your hand into his awaiting one.

You both pulled the covers away and laid down. It was really awkward. Neither of you knew what to do. You both just laid there for a while. Until you took a hold of his hand for the second time that day. He turned his head to look at you and gave you a fond smile. He turned his hold body on his side to face you and so did you. Intertwining your legs and fingers together, you just admired each other.

At first it was awkward, neither of you had done this before and didn’t know what to do. But of course love just knew the way and you both quickly fixed it.

Jeongin: 

You were horrible at math but you excelled in languages. Miraculously, the exact opposite was true for Jeongin. Which is why you always studied together. You needed his help as much as he needed yours.

You were both sitting on your bed reviewing for your exams. You were bored out of your mind. Your brain felt fried and all you wanted to do was sleep. 

“Jeonging, can we take a nap?” you whined.

“Uh.. sure, I-I’ll go...” Scrambling to pick up his stuff, he turned as red as a tomato. You quickly grabbed his hand.

“No. actually. Could you stay?” You looked down, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure”

You both laid down facing each other. Both of you were feeling very bashful.

He was terrified something would go wrong. Yet he knew everything would be alright. As long as you were in each others arms.