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florenceandthemachine · 4 years ago

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hear your heartbeat

happy birthday to the incomparable @elisela!!! just for you, please enjoy a good fake-dating au with plenty of idiotic and family members abound.

12.5k - on Ao3

—————

“I’m telling you, Scotty. New York has been good to me. Maybe we should just renounce California and stay here for the summer.”

“Don’t joke about that, dude.”

Stiles laughed as he shouldered his phone, taking in the city air as he strolled along the streets of Manhattan.

Needless to say, Manhattan was far from home—while the city certainly was his vibe, Stiles was no stranger to tamping down the champagne tastes that clashed with his tapwater budget. The little shitbox apartment he got through NYU’s housing program was almost a thirty minute train ride from school, but Stiles figured that when he was more or less trapped on campus for nearly fifty hours a week, he could justify spending his breaks wandering the streets of Manhattan and really taking in the city.

On today’s agenda, Stiles was looking forward to wandering around a farmers market that literally stretched on for city blocks. There were fruits and vegetables literally as far as the eye could see, spices and roots and mysterious tubers of all shapes and size, but Stiles didn’t give a flying fuck about the food—his real interest were the vendors and the shoppers.

He had learned early on that open air markets like this were perfect meeting grounds for mythical beasts of all shapes and sizes, so, what better palace for him to do some… field work, so to speak?

There were nymphs who had full bouquets of beautiful flowers that lived suspiciously long in their vases as long as you complimented the blooms on a regular basis. Dryads who sold the most delicious fruit he had ever tasted, even if they charged six bucks for a pear.

Stiles had learned early on to avoid the fae—basically, any stand that sold crystal or metalcraft. His first time at the market, he had somehow wound up spending nearly four hundred dollars on quartz; the moment the money had left his hand, the stall had all but vanished in front of him.

“The people are good here. They’re fast. Blunt. Sarcastic. My kind of people.”

“Uh huh.”

Scott liked to call their whole situation lucky.

When Stiles applied to NYU’s doctorate program, he expected rounds and rounds of interviews, lists of deadlines he needed to memorize, and some less-than-subtle digs at his proposed field of study (which was fair, honestly—he knew that criminology and mythology rarely mixed).

What he didn’t expect was Scott, though, the bro of all bros. When Stiles told him he was applying to NYU, Scott had cheered him on, helped him prepare, and then immediately applied to different veterinary positions through the state.

(Scott was golden, obviously—he had years of training, letters of recommendation from everyone he had ever met, and him being a werewolf basically made him the animal whisperer.)

At the end of the day, Stiles got to pursue his passion thanks to a hodgepodge of grants at NYU, and Scott was awarded a fellowship in veterinary medicine through the Bronx Zoo. What kind of weird twist of luck would let the best friends wind up together across the country like that?

So, yeah, Scott called it luck.

Stiles called it karmic retribution for their supremely fucked-up years at Beacon Hills High, but even he could admit that ‘luck’ sounded nicer... and if Stiles was being honest, ‘luck’ was definitely the best way to classify his meeting Derek Hale.

Derek Hale was smart, he was sarcastic, and he could go toe-to-toe with Stiles over completely obscure things for literal hours. He was a first-year professor at NYU, who had the tiny office right next to the broom closet Stiles had managed to shove PHD desk into, and he was probably the only other person in the program that took mythology seriously (meaning he was the only person who didn’t make Stiles want to put his head through the wall).

He was also hot as fuck, but that was beside the point. Stiles had a little bit of a massive crush, but that was also beside the point.

They had built up a fast friendship based on a series of arguments about the Necronomicon, of all things, and Stiles loved the thought of being friends with someone who didn’t know him as the weird kid in high school who knew way too much about ritual sacrifice and circumcision.

He had evened out a lot through undergrad. He was still awkward, sure, but he was awkward with a refillable prescription for Adderall and some sort of brain-to-mouth filter.

(Honestly, the fact that Stiles had managed to avoid making a single joke about the werewolf who was stuck teaching Mythology 101 really did speak volumes to his newfound maturity.)

Speaking of Derek, though…

“Stiles! Hey, Stiles!”

Stiles almost jumped a foot in the air as he heard his name called, doing a spectacular near-drop-mid-air-catch of his phone as he regained his footing, turning on the spot to see a taller woman with jet black hair waving him over.

She was… okay, she was gorgeous—dark hair, smooth skin, someone who looked like she just stepped out of one of the windows on Fifth Avenue—but Stiles was decently distracted, because standing beside her was Derek Hale, the object of his extremely private affection for the past few months. Who, for whatever reason, was standing there looking like he wanted the sidewalk to open up and swallow him whole.

“Scotty, I’ll see you tonight, yeah? I gotta go.”

Stiles pocketed his phone as he cautiously made his way over to the pair—trio, he corrected, because there was another woman with them, looking incredibly more invested in the conversation now that another party was joining them.

He hiked his canvas a bit higher up as he smiled, trying to remember where he had seen the two before… students, maybe, but if that were the case, they would know Derek, not Stiles. They weren’t faculty members, he was sure of that. Donors to the program, maybe?

Well, if they were donors, Stiles sincerely hoped that Derek would have tried harder to wear literally any expression other than his current ‘bitter and miserable’.

And if they were donors, why were they so fucking happy to see him?

“I’m Laura. This is Cora.”

The taller of the two women extended her hand confidently as Stiles got within arms reach, and he instinctively reached out to take it, Cora following suit. “Derek has told us all about you. I have to say, I figured there was at least a ten percent chance you were made up, but… here you are!”

“Here I am!” Stiles was officially lost, but he kept his smile up, cheeks pinking up a little bit as he turned back to Derek. “You’ve been talking about me?” he asked, his voice on the line between flattered and teasing, nudging Derek playfully as he tilted his head.

“Stiles, I—“

“Of course he has! Derek’s a private guy, sure, but you can’t be surprised he told us about his new—“

“Laura—”

“Lord, Derek, calm down. You already had your big bisexual awakening, I’m allowed to be excited to meet your first boyfriend.” Laura shot back, her glare rivaling Derek’s absolute best ‘listen to teacher’ look, and Stiles could see the muscle in his jaw start to twitch. He probably would have done something, but… he was basically short circuiting, brain trying to keep up with whatever the fuck Laura had said, because Derek now had his arm around Stiles’ waist.

Derek had a big bisexual awakening?

And a boyfriend, apparently?

How had Stiles missed that??

“Stiles, these are my sisters, Laura and Cora Hale.”

Okay, great, they were Derek’s sisters. Stiles didn’t even know that Derek had sisters, which was a little sad if he thought about it.

Thankfully, he didn’t have long to think about it, because Derek—

“This is Stiles, my… my boyfriend. Now stop bombarding him. Give him half a fucking second before you go a thousand miles an hour.”

Oh—oh God. Stiles was the boyfriend.

He had seriously missed something, then—he didn’t think he had confessed his feelings for Derek anytime recently, or he probably would have died from embarrassment. Scott was really good at hiding his phone when he was drinking, which ruled that entire scenario out. Stiles could be forgetful at times, sure, but he thought he would remember if he had managed to score himself a boyfriend.

He looked up at Derek, trying to ignore the sudden burn of contact where their bodies were pressed together, but his brain was extremely focused the moment that he caught the look on Derek’s face, there and gone in a flash. He felt the hand squeeze at his waist, and the message was clear enough.

Please.

Ah, well. Stiles was always good at bullshitting, and this was no exception.

“No, no, Der, it’s fine! It’s good to meet you both, sorry, I wasn’t even expecting to see Derek until… uh, later, let alone meet anyone new,” Stiles said, his voice 100% betraying his nerves as it picked up an octave.

Laura’s voice was much more evenly toned, even if it was a little teasing. “Oh? You two have big plans tonight? We aren’t interrupting anything, are we?” she said with a grin, giving the distinct impression that even if they were interrupting, she and her sister wouldn’t be leaving until they were good and ready. Stiles felt his mind kick into overdrive, waving the question aside.

“Oh, nothing like that. We were going to meet up with my friend Scott for dinner, introducing the boyfriend to the best friend, you know how it is,” he continued, hoping his little chuckle wasn’t too terribly fake as he reached up to pat the lapels of Derek’s jacket, letting his fingers linger a little too long on Derek’s chest as he nodded.

He hoped that she knew how it was. Hell, Stiles didn’t even know how it was. He hadn’t exactly been rolling in romance since moving across the country.

“Well, if you say so,” Laura mused, raising a perfect brow, head tilted to the side. “You look like you’re about to pass out, Stiles. You alright?”

And, okay, Stiles knew enough to know what that meant. It meant that her super-sonic ears could hear his heart trying to break through his ribs with a staccato beat, typically a tell-tale sign that someone was lying, but… maybe he could work that to his advantage. He swallowed, voice a little tight as he laughed, waving the concern away.

“Sorry, I just wasn't… planning on meeting the family today,” Stiles said, probably the most truthful thing he had ever said. “Usually I’d try to prepare a little more, you know, make sure I’m wearing something nice and avoid putting my entire foot in my mouth. Maybe just a toe or two,” he said, relaxing minutely as Cora snorted from her position near Laura’s elbow.

Okay, so self depreciation was a good way to avoid suspicion with all the Hales. Got it.

“Well, if you both have plans, I’ll make this quick,” Laura said, her voice deceptively charming as she sidled up next to Stiles, though he certainly wasn’t going to complain about the way Derek’s hand tightened around his waist. “The semester is up soon, what are your plans this summer? Never mind, move them back. We’re having a family reunion the week after finals, and everyone is dying to meet baby brother Derek’s new boo after all the stories he’s told.”

…stories?

He looked up to Derek again, who was now blushing up to the tips of his ears, which—okay, cute—but which told him absolutely nothing and offered him exactly zero defense.

“Actually, I already have a flight booked as soon as my spring contract is up. Heading back to Beacon Hills for a few days, and—“

“Wait, did Derek already invite you?” Laura asked, her expression pleasantly surprised, and Stiles was speechless for a half second before Derek stepped in.

“No, I didn’t invite him because I’m not even going, Laura. Besides, he has his own plans with his own family,” he said, and Stiles blinked as he tried to keep up. “And what do you mean, they’re excited to meet him? I was very clear that the further I can keep him away from you and Mom, the better.”

Laura only rose a brow as she turned back to Cora, who took a beat before looking up from her phone, her expression halfway guilty as she clutched the device. “I uh—I may have just sent a picture of you two to the family group chat.”

Stiles choked on a laugh as Derek gasped—actually gasped—and pulled his phone from his pocket, making the mistake of releasing Stiles’ shoulder to unlock the device, looking absolutely scandalized as he glared at Cora.

It wasn’t long before Stiles had a similar look on his face, though, as Laura took advantage of his free arm, linking her own with his as she started to walk. “Alright, Stiles, here’s the deal.”

“Cora, you little—hey! Laura, get back here with my boyfriend!”

“Calm down little brother, the adults are talking.”

“He’s younger than I am!”

“So, Stiles, like I was saying,” Laura started, oblivious or ignorant to the way Stiles' mind had absolutely reeled when Derek had called him his boyfriend for the second time. “Derek hasn’t been home for more than a day visit since he moved out to this dump, and no one has raised a stink about it in years. This year, though, is… important,” she started, and Stiles nodded idly as he mentally ran through the calendar in his head.

The semester was over in just over a week, with finals crammed into three days after that, and then—oh, the full moon.

No, Stiles corrected himself, the blue moon. The first blue moon in May in probably… thirty years, if he had to guess. He nodded up to Laura as that clicked into place, a flicker of curiosity crossing over her face as she continued talking.

“We won’t take up that much of your time—it’s only like two events, I promise, and I also promise Derek will personally take care of whatever flight changes you have to make so you can still get some time with your family. After all, it’s not your fault my bonehead brother tried to exclude you until now.”

“I’m not a bonehead!” Derek said, his tone of voice just exasperated enough that Stiles sighed, carefully extracting himself from Laura’s grasp as they slowed to a stop near the curb of Fifth Avenue, the noise from the farmers market blending in with the sound of traffic as he turned back to Derek.

“Alright, hang on, hold up,” Stiles started, his tone firm enough to stop the three wolves in their tracks, Derek and Laura wearing matching expressions of surprise as they stopped in their tracks—even Cora was peeking over her phone, clearly interested, and Stiles couldn’t blame them. It had probably been a long time since either of them had been stopped by a human.

“Laura, Derek is not a bonehead. He’s smart, and he’s sweet, and he’s very kind, and it’s okay that he’s a little more private. Yeah, he’s also a stubborn asshole, but… well, that’s one of the reasons I like him so much,” Stiles said, the first genuine smile in the entire conversation gracing his face as he looked at Derek again. “But you know your brother. Did you really think that catching him off guard across the country in person was going to be the best way to convince him to visit?”

He was fine taking their silence as an answer, honestly.

“Now, Derek, that being said, I… if you are comfortable with it, I can rearrange my plans and come down with you. If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s okay too. Meeting the family—at least, the rest of the family—is a very big step,” he continued, his words very pointed.

(Yes, Derek, meeting the family would be a very big step for someone you weren’t even dating, please pick up on the subliminal messaging here.)

“But even if you’re not comfortable with me being there, I think you should still go down. I’ll get to spend plenty of time with my dad, you shouldn’t have to be all alone up here while I’m gone.”

Moving to smooth over the lapels on Derek’s jacket again, Stiles only barely tampered down a noise of surprise as Derek intercepted his hands, pleasantly shocked by how easily Derek’s warm, smooth fingers slipped between his own lanky digits.

Stiles felt his cheeks pinks up as he cleared his throat, doing his best to act normal, because he was… well, he wasn’t lying. He had absolutely thought about Derek being alone here in New York while Stiles was gone, but that was more in the sense that Stiles would miss him.

He just didn’t know that Derek might be missing some family, too.

Besides, he may not have known that much about the intricacies of a normal, family pack, but Stiles knew enough to know that a big event like this would probably be good for Derek, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Even if Derek was going to reject his offer and go down alone.

…because Derek was going to reject him.

Derek was going to reject him, right?

Stiles had been fairly sure of that when he offered, but judging by the way Derek couldn’t meet his eyes after something as simple as holding hands, Stiles might have just fucked himself over. Derek opened and closed his mouth twice before he finally let out a huff of air and looked up, doing a remarkably good impression of a guilty animal as he looked at Stiles.

“…you’re sure you don’t mind?”

Fuck.

“Derek, I wouldn’t have offered if I minded,” Stiles said, and that much was at least true—but before he could say anything else, Laura was squealing in his ear, wrapping both of them up in a hug so tight Stiles almost had to remind her that he was human, but he was able to breathe again as the car next to the curb chirped.

“Thank God, Stiles, thank you for getting through to him! Oh, Nana is gonna flip out when she hears who’s coming—Derek, you know you’ve always been her favorite—Stiles, do you have any dietary restrictions? Derek, send me his number, and—no, Cora, you are not driving us back to the airport, move your ass—“

Stiles looked up to Derek, his expression somewhere between bemused and fearful as Laura rambled on, but… well, the apologetic look that Derek had on his face wasn’t much reassurance.

“—and Stiles, you’re going to love Beacon Hills. Bye boys! See you in two weeks!”

Stiles was left, partially shellshocked as Derek’s hand slipped from his own, the need for the facade no longer essential as the shiny silver rental car pulled into traffic.

“… Derek, since when the fuck are you from Beacon Hills?”

—————

“Scotty, stop laughing, this isn’t funny.”

“Dude, are you kidding me? This is hilarious.”

Stiles groaned as he shoved another slice of pizza into his mouth, ignoring the burning sensation that spread across his tongue as he tried to pack as much melted cheese as he could into one bite.

Scott’s apartment had been their go-to for the entire time he and Stiles had been in the city—not because it was huge and glamorous, not by any means, but Scott’s shoebox had a door between the bathroom and the living room, and therefore it was the best place for bro-time by default.

Stiles had loudly complained about the entire situation when he and Derek showed up on Scott’s stoop, firmly planting himself in his favorite of Scott’s chairs—the ‘old man’ recliner next to Scott’s little television, the game on screen forgotten as he recalled their harrowed tale.

“Stiles, if you weren’t comfortable with it, why even… okay, no, don’t you dare answer me until you swallow,” Derek snapped, and Stiles rolled his eyes as he swallowed a few times, sticking his tongue out at Derek once his mouth was empty.

“Good. Thank you for pretending to be an adult. Now, why did you even offer if it wasn’t something you were comfortable with.”

Because it was supposed to just be a gesture, Derek. Because I didn’t realize you would take it as a serious offer, Derek. Because you were supposed to say no, Derek.

… because I didn’t want you to be alone, Derek.

Honestly, as surprised as Stiles was that Derek took him up on his poorly-timed moment of goodness, he was even more surprised that after Laura drove off, when he numbly asked if Derek wanted to come over to Scott’s for some pizza, Derek actually said yes.

Derek Hale was being social. Alert the media.

(Well… maybe ‘social’ was stretching it a bit—Stiles didn’t know if it was a territory thing or what, but Derek had turned hilariously, awkwardly stiff the moment he stepped inside Scott’s apartment.)

“I offered because I’m nice, dick, but don’t even think that you can turn this on me. Derek, they knew my name. They knew what I looked like. And yeah, I mean, I’m a complete catch and all—oh fuck off, Scotty—but what in the actual, literal fuck?”

Stiles didn’t think it was possible, but somehow Derek got even more tense, shoulders tightening up toward his ears as he looked down. It took a moment before he answered, but Stiles knew by then that Derek usually had to… wind himself up to talk about some things.

“My mother lives on the opposite end of the country, and even then, she still managed to set up twenty four blind dates for me last year. Twenty four, Stiles. That’s basically one every other week. Do you have any idea how much small talk that is? And how much I hate small talk?”

Yes, Stiles thought, to both of those questions. He would never admit this out loud, of course, but thinking about one of the most intensely private people that he knew stuck at some shitty little coffee shop trying to chat with some random female on behalf of his mother was hilarious to a degree he couldn’t fathom.

It definitely wasn’t a redirection of his own… personal feelings that may or may not be directed at Derek. Not at all. Nope.

“So, around the time the spring semester started, when my mother let slide that she had passed along my number to yet another perfectly eligible barista, or something, I panicked and told her I had a boyfriend. And then she asked for a photo, and the most recent one on my phone was that selfie you sent miming your own death in the stacks, so…”

“Oh fuck, Derek,” Stiles started, downing the last of his beer. “Your big bisexual awakening wasn’t just you trying to get out of your mom setting you up on dates, right?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, ass,” Derek said, rolling his eyes as he shook his head. “The two events were completely separate.”

Stiles laughed at the thought, but even then, his mind was reeling. If this wasn’t a recent discovery, how in the fuck did Stiles miss that for so long?

“Well, you’re lucky Scotty and I had a flight booked anyway. I won’t let you face them alone, not when you have a picture perfect boyfriend to show off now—what role should I take on? Doting, love struck fool? Rebel without a care? Some sad forlorn loser who… okay, no, that one is too close to home.”

Scott stood up and laughed as Derek glared at Stiles again, but it didn’t take a genius to see the tiny smile on his face, or the way his shoulders eased as he leaned back into the couch.

“Alright, this is getting too intense a conversation while the game is on. Want another beer, Stiles? You, Derek?”

Stiles made a vaguely affirming noise as he wove his hand in Scott’s direction, eyes drawn back to Derek yet again as the other wolf politely declined, his own attention affixed to the television as the game picked back up.

Derek was… not a particularly expressive person, Stiles knew, and part of that was because Derek had what Stiles affectionately called ‘resting grumpy face’; at least, he did privately, because the one time he said it out loud Derek had thrown the Encyclopaedia of Demomorgons at his head.

So, to the outsider looking in, Derek might have just seemed uninterested in the game; but Stiles had been watching Derek work for the better part of a semester, and he knew perfectly well how to tell when Derek’s resting grumpy face formed an actual frown. Which it did. Because apparently, the Mets had personally offended him.

“I’m sorry, are you seriously glaring at the Mets? While they’re winning?”

Derek leveled Stiles with the most unimpressed glare he could as Scott laughed from his kitchen, walking back into the living room with two beers. “God, I hope he was. It would be nice to have someone with taste in the apartment for once.”

“Scotty!” Stiles gasped, clutching his heart as Scott handed him a beer, extending the claw on his thumb to pop the top off before he handed the bottle over. “The Mets are a treasure, okay? If God lived in New York, she’d be a Mets fan. I have suffered much for my Mets in my lifetime, and they—woah, Derek, you okay?”

Stiles’ charming cliches would have to wait, because when he looked over to Derek, his humor dropped immediately. Derek had gone white as a sheet, jaw slack as he stared at the beer in Stiles’ hand.

He stared back and forth between Scott and Derek, trying to figure what the hell had just happened; it wasn’t until he watched Scott pop the top off of his own beer, looking between the two of them, did Stiles put two and two together.

“Derek, you… you had to know that Scott was a were, right? Like, you had to. He—Scotty doesn’t do subtle.”

“Me?! Stiles, you called me a wet dog for like a month after I fell into the Hudson.”

Derek let out a sort of choked noise as he shut his mouth, coming back into himself as a bit of pink dusted his pale cheeks, hands moving in front of his face. “Of—of course I knew, but—you knew?!”

“Dude, I’m studying mythical lore and criminology. I’m the one who taught this furry fucker how to control himself. Of course I knew, I... oh my god. You didn’t know that I knew—uh, that I know.”

Matching looks of realization dawned on Scott and Stiles’ face as Stiles stood up, putting the beer down on the coffee table. He moved next to Derek as he sat down on the couch, keeping his movement slow, reaching out to pat Derek’s leg like he was a frail old lady.

“Derek, I know.”

After what felt like an age and a half, Derek melted into the couch, a huge sigh leaving his lips as all the tension in his body bled out like a string had been cut, burying his head in his hands.

“We’ve had arguments about wolves in pop culture. I’ve offered to help you out with your coursework every full moon for, like, the entire semester. Dude, you had to know that I knew, there’s no way I didn’t—Derek!” Stiles felt his giddy laughter bubble over as Derek shot him a red-eyed glare through his fingers, his scowl somehow less intimidating now that everything was out in the open.

Okay, Derek wasn’t just a wolf, he was an alpha. That was… interesting.

“God, you two really are perfect fake boyfriends. Two halves of a whole idiot. Derek, are you sure you don’t want a beer? Or maybe something stronger, if you have to deal with Stiles?” Scott said easily, laughing as Stiles immediately protested, though the way Stiles eased himself next to Derek wasn’t exactly subtle, either.

—————

Scott may have been joking, but by the time finals had come and gone, Stiles had accepted the fact that he would have to forgo booze and opt for a mainline of caffeine to keep up with Derek. How one person remained so meticulously organized, Stiles would never know—but in the amount of time it took for Stiles to wrap up his grant work for the semester, Derek had given four exams, proctored three more, cleaned out his office, and shared the updated flight itinerary with Stiles.

“Wait, wait, hang on,” Stiles had said, tripping over an empty box in his tiny office as Derek handed him his updated boarding pass. “Why do we have to change our flights? Scott and I are already booked, you can probably just join us, right?”

Derek rose a perfectly sculpted brow as he tapped the ticket again, shaking his head. “Hey, I promised you’d spend as few days as possible with my family, and I intend to keep that promise. The sooner we get in, the sooner we start that clock, the sooner you get to spend the rest your time with your dad.”

Stiles blinked as he looked down to the itinerary, eyes scanning over the earlier time—and it was non-stop too. That would be a bit killer on the legs, but Stiles could handle that, maybe he could take some time to sleep or pester Derek for...

“Uh, Derek... this ticket is for first class.”

“I know, Stiles, I booked it.”

“Dude, there’s a reason Scott and I booked an economy ticket with a layover in Bismarck. There’s no way I can pay you back for this.”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be... maybe not dead, but at least set on fire. Derek sighed, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders as he rolled his eyes.

“You’re not paying me back, dumbass. You’re already doing a ton for me with this little... charade, the least I can do is make sure your frail human body—“

“Hey!”

”—is comfortable in a lie flat seat.”

“Look, I appreciate that, but I’m not leaving Scott alone on his flight in coach just because of our... fake... whatever.”

Stiles’ voice trailed off in curiosity as Derek sighed, his cheeks pink as he pulled the paper out of Stiles’ hand, pointing to the second half of the sheet—where MCCALL, SCOTT had been printed in big, bold letters, that Stiles had completely ignored.

“... you got Scott a ticket too?”

“Of course I did. He’s your best friend, I wasn’t going to ask you to leave him behind just for me. Besides, who do you think I got your information from to book the flight?” Derek said dryly, as though his deadpan delivery could cancel out the ruddy color to his cheeks, or the way that Stiles’ stomach flip flopped when the reality of that sunk in.

It was nice that Derek acknowledged the importance of their friendship, in the way that tugged at the little space right beneath his sternum, but something about the way Derek so quickly dismissed himself was... concerning.

Stiles couldn’t help but play that little bit of their conversation over in his head as he packed, as he hopped on the train, as he met up with Scott and Derek in security.

Scott, bless his heart, was absolutely elated—his excitement was almost tangible as they dropped off luggage, walked through security, and stood around at the boarding gate. Derek had to smack the both of them to get them to stand up when first class was called to board, and Stiles idly wondered if Derek regretted associating himself with them when he and Scott managed to trip in sync as they went down the jetway.

Derek and Stiles were seated together, of course, and once Stiles got over the novelty of not having a middle seat on a plane, he liked to imagine he fit right in—easing back into the seat, enjoying the comfort of the little blanket he had been given, grinning at the flight attendant as she checked in with them.

(Scott was one row ahead and across the aisle, close enough that Stiles could lean forward and smack him if he wanted to... but the moment Stiles saw his seat mate, a pretty woman with dark hair and impeccable eyeliner, he knew his best bro would be on a different planet for the entirety of the flight.)

His grin slipped a little bit, though, as he thought back to the conversation surrounding the tickets, and he looked up to Derek as he settled in a bit further.

“So, we never went over what role I should be taking on.”

“Stiles, just be yourself. You’re funny enough, and you generally mean well, they’ll love who you are.”

Yeah… who he was. Well, who he was was someone who was going to be dangerously invested in a fake relationship that would probably end terribly for him, so that was fun. He sighed as he settled into the seat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as he debated on where to go from here.

No time like a non stop plane ride to have a potentially awkward conversation, right?

“Dude, we’re friends, right?”

“We’re fake boyfriends, don’t call me dude.”

Derek’s tone was teasing as he flipped through his SkyMall, a small smile on his face, and Stiles felt a little bit of the tension ease out of his shoulders as he buckled in.

“First of all, I have called many boyfriends ‘dude’ before,” Stiles started, ignoring Derek’s snort of laughter, “and I’m being serious. We... we are friends, right?”

Be it his words or his awkward energy, Derek looked up, surprise on his face as he closed the magazine and stowed it away as the plane bumped down the taxiway.

“Of course we are, Stiles. You’re like... the only person I talk to at work outside of teaching, that’s light years ahead of most of New York as a whole.”

“I mean, I’m glad to hear, I just...” Stiles chewed on his lip as he turned in his seat, weirdly soothed by the roar of the engines as the takeoff roll started. “You know about my dad, and about my school, and about Scott, and those are basically the three important things in my life,” he started, letting out a sigh as Derek just stared at him blankly.

“It’s fine that you’re a private person, I can respect that... seriously, I may not understand it, but I can respect it,” Stiles said, grinning as Derek shot him a look, lowering his voice again as he leaned over the divider between them. “But I didn’t know that you were from my hometown, too. Or that you had sisters, let alone other family. I should have asked, I guess, but... you know you can talk to me about things, yeah? Even after all this is over, you’ll always be Derek to me. Not just another Hale.”

Stiles’ was smiling as he gently bumped Derek’s shoulder with his own, watching the way different emotions warred over his face, biting back on the urge to babble on so he could give Derek the time he needed to respond.

“We’re... we are friends, Stiles. We are.” Derek insisted, looking down to his linked hands as the plane continued to rise. “Sometimes, I just... I’m not great about talking about myself.”

For a while, Stiles thought that was all he was going to get, and honestly, he was fine with it—it wasn’t until the fasten seatbelt sign chimed off and the flight attendants passed out little bottles of water that Derek spoke again, his voice low as he cleared his throat.

“My family is huge. Like, big enough that we need spreadsheets and flowcharts to organize family events like this. I know they love me, and I love them too, of course I do, but I made some really, really stupid decisions when I was younger… I know they forgave me for it, but...”

Derek sighed, taking a deep breath as he ran his hands through his hair.

“Sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?”

No, Stiles didn’t know. He only had his dad and Scott growing up, but he nodded his head encouragingly as he took a sip of his water.

“I actually have four siblings. Mark is the oldest, and then Taylor, and I’m right between Laura and Cora. They’re betas, like my dad; my mom and I are both alphas, her mom, too…” Derek continued, and Stiles smiled as he settled into his seat.

By the time the flight landed, Stiles’ head was full to the brim with Hale family trivia, names, faces, teasing stories, and the warmth that had danced across Stiles’ chest for the past year or so had bloomed into a full-on fire.

Would it lead to his downfall? Probably.

But when he saw how Derek smiled when he remembered Mark’s graduating medical school, or heard the pride in his voice when he talked about Laura’s charity work, and the genuine joy he got to see when he heard another story about Derek’s childhood… well, that was all more than worth it.

—————

“I think you should kiss me.”

Stiles had to stop himself from laughing at the look that Derek shot him, doing his best to keep his body language casual as he leaned against the gas pump at a tiny station outside of Beacon Hills, though he knew his heart was going at about a million miles a minute.

“I—you—what?”

“Derek, I’m an affectionate dude, in case you couldn’t tell from all the hand holding. And if you’re going to freak out if I kiss your cheek, then you should freak out now, not when we’re in front of your family.”

Stiles knew full well his heart betrayed his confidence, but seeing Derek’s ears go pink as he dumped the armful of snacks Stiles had asked for into the back seat was a welcome sight—it was always nice to know that Derek’s cool and controlled exterior could be ruffled up once in a while.

Somewhere between the rental kiosk and the gas station, Stiles had decided that he was going to go all in on this. His little crush was already stuck right in the back of his throat and would be unlikely to dislodge any time soon, so he figured that indulging himself in the fake relationship Derek had set up for him… well, it wouldn’t do any good, but it was unlikely to make things worse for him than it already was.

It was a little weird being alone with Derek—Stiles didn’t realize it until now, but between meeting Derek’s sisters and meeting the rest of their family, this was the first time they had been alone together. They had other staff members at school, or strangers around the city, or Scott (who had politely declined a ride back to Beacon Hills with Derek and Stiles, choosing instead to split an Uber with his pretty new friend, Kira).

“You know, as far as first kisses go, usually they’re a little more romantic than just a demand. You’re supposed to woo me, Stiles,” Derek said, his sarcastic tone betrayed by his shy little smile as he pulled the nozzle out of his tank, closing the gas cap as Stiles gasped in mock offense.

“Hey, I said you should kiss me, not the other way around. Why should I have to be the one to woo?” Stiles started, sliding into the passenger’s seat as Derek followed suit. “After all, this relationship wouldn’t have even happened without your instigation, so why should I… uh… Der?”

Stiles’ voice trailed off as Derek’s hand sunk into the soft crook at the juncture of his neck, effectively cutting off his entire train of thought as Derek’s thumb pressed against the hollow of his jaw.

“Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“O-Okay.”

For a minute, all Stiles could think of were those cheesy old rom-coms, where fireworks would go off, or bells would chime, but kissing Derek was nothing like that. It was the comfort of wrapping yourself in an electric blanket, instead of the shock of jumping into a frozen pond; the familiar buzz of goosebumps over his skin over a bolt of lightning. He felt a surprised little noise leave his chest as Derek’s tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out instinctively to drag along Derek’s bottom lip, hands coming up to rest against the wolves chest.

Stiles could feel his heart beating through every inch of his skin as the kiss broke, struggling to remind himself how to breathe as he opened his eyes again, his nose brushing against Derek’s as he let out a little huff of a laugh.

“Was that enough woo for you?” Derek asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, and Stiles smiled as he nodded his head, savoring the way that neither of them moved back. Derek’s hand was warm against the crook of his jaw, his own palm flat against Derek's chest, and it was natural, it was so nice, it was—

Fake. It was all fake.

Stiles sighed, closing his eyes as he gently leaned in and pressed their foreheads together, that mantra playing through his head as he pulled himself back. He buckled himself in easily as he took in a deep breath, his goofy grin still in place as he looked back up to Derek.

“See? Now you can honestly tell your mom we had our first kiss at a gas station and that it was magical and I totally rocked your world.”

“Is that what happened, though? I mean, if you wanted me to kiss you so badly, you should have just asked,” Derek said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as he started the car, and Stiles laughed as they pulled out of the lot, his hand finding Derek’s easily once again.

Their silence remained comfortable as they left the city skyline behind and basically blew through Beacon Hills, the trees inching closer to the road as they wound through the preserve.

Finishing off a bag of M&M’s, Stiles cleared his throat as he crumpled up the wrapper and chucked it in the back seat, sucking a little bit of melted chocolate off of his thumb. “So. Is this regular introducing-the-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves I’m looking at here, or is this introducing-the-fake-boyfriend-to-the-family nerves? You don’t have any weirdos in your family, do you? An ex-felon auntie? A cousin who doesn’t quite get personal space?”

Stiles grinned as Derek laughed, oddly comforted by the sound as Derek shook his head. “Nothing exciting. A weird uncle, I guess. Lots of cousins, you should basically abandon any idea of personal space as soon as we walk in, and plenty of human family, too—so you won’t be alone in that. As far as felons go, well… none of us have been caught?”

“Hey, game recognizes game, it doesn’t count if you don’t get caught. And I can work with a weird uncle.” Stiles laughed at the sheepish look that Derek shot his way, his fingers still happily wrapped up in Derek’s warm hands. He could almost feel it when they crossed over onto the Hale land, the huge, white house as much of a giveaway as the shrieks of joy that even Stiles could hear from the property.

“They’re gonna love you, you know?” Derek’s voice was soft as he pulled the rental into a long row of cars, nearly lining the road leading up to the house, and Stiles felt the snarky remark die on his tongue as Derek caught his eye, his expression somewhere between grateful and wistful as he turned the car off.

“Maybe, but…” Stiles sighed as he popped his door open, chewing over his next words carefully. “But if they do, it’s because they already love you.”

He took it as a personal victory when Derek turned away, his ears pink again, and Stiles couldn’t help but grin as he followed the werewolf up the path to his family home.

The Hale House was probably as huge and impressive as the Hale family itself from the outside, and Stiles did his best not to gape like a fool as Derek opened the door for him, his hand finding the small of Stiles’ back as they stepped into the house. Polished floors, huge, high windows, a grand staircase that was the definition of grand, and—

“Derek!”

—and another unfairly attractive Hale moving forward to greet them. Tall, broad, dark hair with just a splash of salt around the temples and the goatee, shining a million watt smile on Derek and Stiles as he wiped his hands on his probably-uncomfortably-tight jeans.

Jesus, was everyone in this family gorgeous? Stiles was going to get a complex.

He looked up as the stranger and Derek briefly hugged, watching the halfway-subtle way they scented one another, Mark’s head buried in Derek’s neck for a half moment before they pulled away. If Stiles strained his ear, he could have heard something along the lines of ‘be nice’ as Derek pulled back; if the situation weren’t so funny, Stiles probably would have blushed.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m always nice. I’m Mark, and you…” Mark started, his million watt smile back in place as his eyes dragged over Stiles’ body, “... you must be Stiles.” Stiles snorted as Mark pulled him into an easy hug, catching Stiles just a little off-guard as he was wrapped in another pair of arms.

Apparently Derek’s family was an affectionate bunch. Stiles didn’t know if it was a wolf thing or a Hale thing, but either way, it was good to know.

“Mark, uh, Seattle, right? You’re the surgeon?” Stiles asked, clearing his throat as the hug carried on just a bit too long, regaining some footing in the introduction as he pulled back. “Derek’s told me a lot about you.”

That was… mostly true, Derek had told him enough about Mark to thoroughly embarrass the older male, and Mark looked like he expected nothing less as he laughed, holding Stiles’ shoulders as he stood at arms length. “Yeah, I’m sure he did, but it’s probably all garbage. After all, how can you really describe a wonder like me in words, huh?”

He actually winked, and Stiles honestly couldn’t believe that this dude was for real.

“Der, nice job with this one. He’s cute. Kid, is my brother treating you well? Cause, you know, if Hale is your taste, you can do much better than—”

”Mark—“

“Oh, lighten up Der-bear, there isn’t enough Botox in the world to get rid of those scowl lines. It was a joke. Now come on, everyone’s out back.”

Stiles laughed again as Mark put Derek in an easy headlock, ruffling up his hair as he led them outside, immediately filing ‘Der-bear’ away for future use as they stepped out into the backyard.

The backyard, which was absolutely filled with Hales.

He felt his heart do a funny little lurch as he was hit with the sheer family of it all—all dark haired, all gorgeous, and for just a moment, he wanted to smack Derek upside the head. There were probably generations of Hales here; Derek had all this family, this built in support group, and he was just going to spend the summer holed up in New York?

“Alright, Siles, we’re gonna keep you in with the main family and keep you away from the cousins,” Mark started, artfully ignoring the way Derek was swatting at him. “Uncle Peter all but insisted that Mom come pick him up, so you’ll get to avoid them until later tonight, but who you really want to watch out for is—“

“Is that my grandbaby?!”

Mark stiffened as Derek perked up, and Stiles couldn’t help but snicker as a bony hand shot up, grabbing Mark by the scruff of his neck, pulling him off of Derek with a flourish that would probably seem overly dramatic if Stiles didn’t know just how much werewolf strength was packed behind it.

“Derek!”

“Hi, Nana.”

Stiles couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as Derek leaned in to wrap his arms around the older woman—she was a good foot shorter than he was, her movements loud, with light skinned with the same tell-tale black hair that the rest of the family had. What caught Stiles’ eye, though, was the way Derek scented her—it was the same way Mark scented him, a familial nudge that Stiles read easily as a sign of deference.

Whoever this Nana was, she was clearly the woman in charge here.

“You know, we’re all technically her grandbabies,” Mark started as he reappeared at Stiles’ shoulder, rubbing the back of his neck, his childish pout painfully obvious as he pointed his words. “But you wouldn’t know it with the blatant favoritism she shows for Derek!”

“Mark, don’t be such a baby,” Nana Hale said as she pulled back from Derek’s hug, patting his cheek affectionately. She raised a brow in a spectacularly unimpressed fashion as she turned to look at her eldest grandson, sighing in mock disappointment. “Not that I thought a career based off of liposuction and face lifts would have brought you some maturity.”

“That’s—I don’t just do—Nana!”

“Now, who do we have here? Derek, are you going to introduce me to your special friend?”

Ignoring Mark’s protests easily as she turned her attention, Stiles felt his heart pick up again, his eyes flicking to Derek as he beamed; Stiles wasn’t sure if he was happy to see Mark get smacked down, or if he was happy to introduce Stiles, but Stiles would have literally killed a man to see Derek smile that brightly on a regular basis.

“Nana, this is my boyfriend, Stiles Stilinski. Stiles, this is my grandmother, Ger—“

“Nana Hale will do just fine, thank you very much,” she interrupted, pulling a face that made Stiles grin—he could absolutely relate to someone who would rather set their birth name on fire than own up to it. “Now, come here, let me get a look at you.”

Stiles stepped forward and hesitated a half moment, not sure if he should try one last time for a handshake or wait for her to initiate a hug, but before he could make up his mind she had her hands clasped on his elbows, a grip like iron stopping him in his tracks.

“Scrawny little thing, aren’t you? We’ll take care of that, don’t you worry. It’s good to meet you, sweetheart, let’s get you some food.”

“It’s good to meet you too—and some food sounds great,” Stiles said with a laugh, ignoring the fact that he was still full of junk food as Nana Hale all but preened beside him. Her grip was gentle but unyielding as she dragged him to a table that was piled with food, giving a half wave to Laura and Cora, who were stationed beside a punch bowl the size of a fish tank as he kept himself a half step behind Nana.

Stiles wasn’t dumb, okay? He knew how to make nice with wolves, and more importantly, he knew how to be subtle.

(He didn’t like it, but he knew how to do it.)

“Uncle Derek! Get Uncle Derek!!”

Thankfully, the moment was over in a flash as Stiles heard a familiar name called out in a high pitched squeal, looking back out to the yard where a hoard of kids had just caught sight (or scent?) of Derek, immediately abandoning the rough-and-tumble games they seemed to be wrapped up in to run toward Derek as fast as their little legs could carry them.

Derek immediately tensed, a manic grin on his face as he prepared to run, body twitching as he caught himself before taking off. He sent a look Stiles’ way that was somehow both apologetic and asking remission, and Stiles sighed as he smiled.

“You better run, Uncle Derek. They’re gonna get you,” Stiles said mock-seriously, only barely keeping a straight face as Derek instead ran straight to the kids, making all sorts of comedic noises as they mobbed his legs.

Fuck, he was cute.

Stiles’ attention was pulled off of Derek as he felt eyes on him, subtly scanning the yard before he made eye contact with another adult in the family, who was very shirtless, and very sweaty, and very much walking toward them with a bright smile on his face.

Okay, Stiles was definitely getting a complex.

“You must be Stiles!” he exclaimed once he was closer to their little group, and Stiles had never been as thankful for a child as he was for the tiny body perched on top of the other males shoulders, because he was just about at his ‘hugging gorgeous people’ limit. He was still sweating, for fucks sake, but Stiles supposed that even a wolf got tired out when they had eight kids hanging from their body until Uncle Derek stepped in.

“I am, and…” Stiles was about to assume this was the firefighter sibling, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the kid on top of his shoulders smiled, and Stiles was absolutely smitten. “And who is this little guy?”

The distraction was apparently a welcome one, because shirtless dude’s smile grew even wider, reaching up to pat the kid on a mop of curly hair before he lifted him up and over, holding him at chest level. “This is Isaac. Isaac, can you say hi to Stiles? He’s your uncle Derek’s special friend.”

Stiles literally felt his heart melt as Isaac gave a shy little wave, looking up at him with big blue eyes. He couldn’t have been older than three or four, and Stiles smiled and waved back as Isaac was set down on the ground.

“You wanna go play with Uncle D?” Any hint of shyness was forgotten the moment the question was asked, taking off toward Derek as fast as his little legs could carry him, which… wasn’t very fast, but was very, very cute.

“They all yours?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked over to Derek, who now had at least six kids hanging off of him. He smiled as the other male shivered, shaking his head quickly.

“God no, just the three. Erica and Boyd, and Isaac too, now that the adoption has been finalized. Those kids basically run the joint, Derek included—as long as you don’t mind the occasional toddler mobbing, you’ll fit in just fine.”

“Thanks, random shirtless man, I really hope so.”

Stiles grinned as Laura choked on a mouthful of punch, the weirdness of the situation apparently just now visible to her as she sputtered, punching her brother in the arm. “Oh god, Taylor, what is wrong with you! Go put on a shirt, you can’t just—you didn’t even introduce yourself, I swear—Stiles is a guest, you weirdo!”

They kept bickering back and forth as Taylor pulled an undershirt on over his head, the whining turning into background noise as he poured himself a glass of punch. He knew perfectly well what Laura was trying to say—Stiles is a human—and he was pretty sure he was mostly flattered by everyone trying so hard, but any coherent thought left his head as he took a bite of the ribs, watching Nana Hale grin out of the corner of his eyes as he groaned in delight.

“God, they really do have Derek wrapped around their pudgy fingers,” Cora mused, and Stiles nodded his head, swallowing. It was honestly hilarious to watch Derek try to manage all those kids by himself; they seemed determined to pile themselves onto his head and shoulders, and he could almost see Derek sweat, trying to make sure he didn’t drop anyone as Isaac managed to wriggle his way into Derek’s grip.

He tilted his head in consideration, taking a sip of his drink before he spoke up.

“Yeah, he always did strike me as that kind of Alpha.”

He couldn’t help but savor the way the conversation ground to a halt around him, Laura and Taylor both sucking in a deep breath as Mark shattered the glass he was holding. There probably was a better way to acknowledge that he was in on the secret, but as funny as it was watching Derek’s siblings tiptoe around the fact, he figured it was best to rip the bandaid off in one go.

Even if it meant he had the attention of the Hales closest to him in one second, flat, Nana’s burning red from where she stood with a plate piled high with food.

He probably should have been nervous, but as he looked back at Derek, he could tell it was the right choice—Derek was all smiles, waiting only a beat before he popped his fangs and playfully snapped at one of his little nieces, the air soon full of squealing laughter once again.

Keeping his gaze even, Stiles smiled in thanks as he took the plate of food Nana offered to him, watching as her eyes melted back into their darker, human color. She was staring at him like he was a particularly complex puzzle, and she wasn’t alone—Cora looked hilariously outraged that she didn’t realize sooner, and even Mark was looking over him with renewed interest as his hand healed.

“I knew you were a smart boy. He told you?”

Nana’s question was accusing, but not unkind, and Stiles shrugged it off easily as he popped a chip into his mouth.

“He didn’t have to. My best friend was bitten when we were both fifteen. He didn’t have… anything, no alpha, no pack, just me and my mad Googling skills, and we’ve had plenty of supernatural run-ins over the years. Derek didn’t tell me because he didn’t have to tell me—I’m not anything special, but I’d like to think I can spot a non-human from at least fifty feet. Maybe more on a good day.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong.”

Stiles jumped as he heard Derek’s voice from behind him, and it truly was a credit to his poise and sophistication that he only blushed a little as Derek’s arm snaked around his waist. His body was warm, far warmer than it had been ten minutes ago, and Derek’s breath came a little heavy as he kissed the back of Stiles’ head.

“You are definitely something special.”

“You—you absolute cheeseball, what is wrong with you—” Stiles managed to get out as he shoved at Derek’s shoulder, his entire face burning red as Laura and Cora both gagged. Any residual awkwardness melted away as Nana’s sharp laugh cut through the air, the sound putting him back at ease as he leaned back into Derek’s warmth.

Somewhere between the fortieth round of storytelling and the gathering moving back into the house, Stiles needed a breather. Derek’s family was huge, and loud, and honestly, Stiles loved it—but it wasn’t long before he felt an itch beneath his skin, his fingers buzzing against his thigh, the muscles in his jaw a little too tight.

Stiles had expected Derek to be pretty popular in the family—what he didn’t expect, though, was that he would be anything more than an introduction and the same polite questions that everyone gave the new boyfriend.

“Wait, no fucking way did the two of you take down a Kanima, Stiles, I’m calling bullshit right now—“

Derek’s siblings were great, but they were also the worst; the minute they found out that Stiles had his own supernatural background, they were pestering him for stories, demanding his opinion of things, getting more and more exasperated with his entire life the more he shared.

Stiles knew that his life was crazy, okay? He didn’t need the constant reminders or the slack-jawed shocked expressions to reinforce that fact.

“Jesus, we didn’t even know that there were any wendigos in the state, and you knew an entire family of them?”

The only stories he flat out refused to talk about were the… issues he had had with hunters through high school—this was a party, after all, and he didn’t want to be the one to bring the vibe down by talking about the one time an assassin held a gun to his head to try and draw Scott out.

Fun times.

“What do you mean, you just know a banshee? And set her up with a hellhound? Dude, who are you?!”

Kissing Derek had, oddly enough, only exasperated the situation. In less than a day, they had gotten better at trading little affections back and forth; but instead of helping Stiles calm down, they only increased that thrumming nerves that bounced around at the base of his skull.

Which sucked, honestly, because kissing Derek was… really, really nice.

Stiles waited until another cousin who’s name he would never remember caught Derek up in a conversation about another tradition he couldn’t follow before he squeezed Derek’s hand, taking the opportunity to stand up from his spot on the couch and slip away.

The Hale House was huge, and outside was no exception; Stiles soon found himself on the porch, a huge wraparound wooden structure with built-in benches that let you enjoy the kind of view that made Stiles remember why he loved home so much. He treated himself to a few pictures of the sunset over Beacon Canyon before he flopped himself down on a bench, rubbing at his neck.

“Stiles? Everything alright?”

He had half expected Derek to follow him out after a few moments—but to his surprise, it was Nana Hale that sat beside him, her cheeks still pink with laughter as she tucked a jet black flyaway behind an ear.

“Is—oh, no, it’s great! Just wanted to, uh, snap a few pictures of the view.”

Another half truth—he was full to bursting with those lately.

“I know that our family can be… a little overwhelming,” she said, her tone even as she rose a brow, keeping her gaze forward as her fingers drummed a pattern into her knee.

Stiles hummed in agreement, his own smile a touch more genuine as he looked over to her. “Maybe, but that’s not a bad thing. When I was growing up, I spent so much time wondering what it would be like, to have siblings, and cousins, and… well, it might be a lot, but it’s a lot of love, too. I’m really glad Derek has that kind of support.”

Nana’s fingers stilled against her knee as she turned to face Stiles, and for the first time, Stiles was really able to get a good look at her properly. He could understand why she was the matriarch of the family, and how she had kept that title so long; even if he hadn’t witnessed her taking Mark down less than four hours ago, there was a whole other kind of strength that she was showing here, radiating off of her in waves.

“He does. But he doesn’t just have us for love and support... or was I reading the way you look at him wrong?” Her tone was teasing as she rose her brow, and Stiles felt his cheeks pink up spectacularly as he coughed, his eyes flashing back to the window for only a moment before Nana patted his knee.

“Don’t worry, the house is completely soundproof. Those nosy little pups can’t hear a word we say. Now tell me, how long have you been in love with my grandson?”

Now fully, beautifully red, Stiles groaned as he hid his face in his hands, Nana’s laughter ringing strong and clear as she stood up and walked toward the railing. “Oh don’t be so dramatic, I have no intention of spoiling that surprise until you’re ready to really woo him with it. And you’d better woo him! You know as well as I do that he deserves the romancing.”

Her tone softened as she chuckled, trailing off with a sigh and a sort of wistful smile as she shook her head. “New York has been good to him. You have, too, I think. California was… a rough part in his life.”

Something in the way she phrased it got the investigative side of his brain thrumming, his curiosity piqued as he remembered what Derek said on the plane.

‘I know they forgave me, but… sometimes it’s hard to be around them and still be okay with myself, you know?’

The nosy part of him wanted to pry, to dig a little more, but his eyes flicked back to the window again, where Derek and all four of his siblings were doing a terrible job at acting like they weren't trying to stare him down.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure he’ll tell me when he’s ready.”

Apparently, that was the right answer—Nana’s face softened again as she smiled, nodding her head, beckoning Stiles into standing up. She put her hand in the crook of his elbow easily, steering them back toward the house in a way that allowed no room for compromise.

“You are going to be good for my Der-bear, I know it.”

“Oh, I mean, I hope so. Derek deserves that, and I definitely—“

“Just let him be good for you, too.”

She reached up and patted Stiles cheek as he stared at her, dumbfounded, automatically opening the door for her as she walked back into the house. His expression was mirrored in the matching expressions of slack-jawed shock from all five Hale siblings, all staring at Stiles as Nana started in on another family story that would be sure to embarrass Mark, or Laura, or anyone who wasn’t Derek.

He meant what he said, of course. Derek deserved someone who would be good for him.

Somehow, that was the problem here.

—————

“Stiles, you reek of nerves. All I can smell is nerves and bell peppers. It’s not a good smell. Are you going to tell me what you’re freaking out about, or what?”

Stiles jolted as Derek called him out so effortlessly, pulled out of the trance he had fallen into as he watched Derek work, pushing around some of the barbecue from the night prior with some fresh chopped veggies into a delightful spur of the moment stir fry.

Derek was also as dressed down as Stiles had ever seen him, in a light grey henley and a dark pair of jeans, and that was even more delightful than the stir fry.

“Wait, you—that’s just something you can do? Oh god, your entire family must have known how nervous I was yesterday, did they—“

“Stiles. Breathe.”

Right. Breathing. He could do that.

…. maybe.

The truth was, Stiles could honestly say that he was having a great time back in Beacon Hills.

Derek and his family were great, no lie, and fake relationship aside, the researcher in him was absolutely thriving seeing how a huge, well-established pack worked with one another. They were literally a well oiled machine, the personification of the old ‘it takes a village’ metaphor, and the only thing that amazed Stiles more than how well they worked together was how well they adapted to Stiles being there.

Of course, he thought a big part of that came from having the Alphas on his side—not just Derek, but Nana too.

(“I can’t believe she hugged you,” Laura had hissed after yet another glass of infused punch. “When she met my last boyfriend, she threw him off the porch.”

“Well, Stiles is a fragile little human,” Taylor had snorted, ignoring the way Stiles smacked his arm, “and Hank was a major, prolapsed asshole.”

“Well yeah, but that’s not the point!”)

As great as Derek and his family was though, getting to come home and surprise his dad early… well, there was no place on the planet he would rather be than wrapped in a signature Stilinski hug, the kind of hug where you held on just a little longer than you needed to so you can pretend you definitely weren’t crying.

He got to watch a game with his dad, he got to sleep in his old, lumpy-ass childhood bed, he got to make breakfast in his mom’s kitchen.

So yeah. Great time.

Or at least, it had been, until a text rolled through after he kissed his dad goodbye that morning.

der-bear: Do you want to come over for lunch? Nana has everyone out of the house, Mom and Uncle Peter showed up this morning and he’s already driving everyone crazy.

sent: sure man. want me to bring anything? :)

der-bear: Don’t worry about it. Besides, I figure we should talk before the bonfire anyway.

And just like that, something brought around a cloud to rain on Stiles’ parade.

“Is it about tonight?” Derek asked, and if Stiles’ hadn’t been so laser focused on his cooking technique (his arms, okay, he was staring at Derek’s arms) he probably would have missed the way Derek hesitated when he asked, like he was afraid of the answer.

He picked himself up off of the barstool at the island in their gigantic kitchen, leaning against the counter closer to Derek, reaching in to pluck a chunk of onion out of the pan, skillfully avoiding the swat from Derek’s wooden spoon. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you… You know we’re looking forward to having you with us, right?” Derek asked, spooning some of the food onto two separate plates, using his claws to rip two fresh chunks of bread off of a loaf. “But if you don’t… I mean, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to be there if you don’t want to.”

Stiles frowned as he accepted one of the plates, pulling the smaller chunk of bread off of one of Derek’s claws, mulling his next words over. “As long as you want me there I’ll be there,” Stiles said slowly, because there really was no way to politely say that Stiles would rather throw himself into the sun before his mythical lore studying ass missed out on observing pack activity on a blue moon.

“Why would you think I didn’t want you there?” Derek asked, looking like he was offended at the very notion, sliding a fork to Stiles as he sat down at the countertop, that offended look only growing as Stiles snorted.

“I dunno, I thought you might have changed your mind about it. Dude, you sent me a ‘we should talk’ text. I’m no expert, but I know that nothing good follows a ‘we should talk’ text,” Stiles said around a mouth full of bread, but any degree of playful levity he had gone for was sapped out of his voice the moment he saw Derek look back down at his plate.

“That, uh. I do think we should talk, but not about that. Stiles, I...”

Ah, fuck. Derek’s ears were pink again, and for once, Stiles thought that was a bad thing.

Stiles did his best not to panic as he thought through things, wondering what he had fucked up, because he just knew he had fucked up a little something. Maybe he had come on a little too strong last night, maybe he had gotten too comfortable with his crush, maybe—

“I was thinking that maybe… we shouldn’t be faking this anymore.”

—or maybe, he had fucked up a whole lot of everything.

Stiles felt his heart sink through his shoes as he swallowed his bread, his appetite suddenly gone. He brushed his hands on his jeans, giving a few short nods, swallowing again as he pushed back from the table a little bit. He thought for a moment that he should argue against it, but Derek had a sad puppy expression splashed across his face, and Stiles wasn’t strong against that on a good day.

“Oh.”

He could feel Derek’s eyes tracking him as he started to move, standing up and starting an easy track around the kitchen, flexing his fingers before he rubbed his palm with his thumbs, an old habit he had thought he had kicked back when he graduated from Berkeley.

“I think, uh, maybe you should wait until you’re back in New York to tell your family?” Stiles started, missing the tiny smile on Derek’s face before it melted into a look of confusion. “You should tell them I broke up with you, not the other way around, I don’t mind being the bad guy,” he added, staring down at his hands.

“Wait, Stiles—“

“No, seriously, it’s fine,” Stiles interrupted, putting a smile back on his face, because he knew this was going to be coming at some point. Derek had made up their entire relationship, and Stiles had worked hard to remember that the reality of it was… that it wasn’t reality. He was the one with the inconvenient crush, he was the one who had gotten stupid. This was all on him, and taking the high road to bow out gracefully would be too.

Or, at least, it should have been. But Derek had abandoned his seat as well, halfway following Stiles in his trail around the kitchen, putting his arm out against a countertop to stop Stiles at a turn.

“I said I wanted to stop faking, Stiles.”

Hell, when had Derek gotten so close to him? Stiles blinked as he backed up against the counter, Derek’s arms closing him in, and suddenly he was getting an up close and personal look at Derek’s lips, and his eyes, and the way the blush was going back up his ears, and—

...why was Derek blushing?

“I never said anything about wanting you to leave.”

But why would Stiles be staying if… oh. Oh.

Realization dawned on Stiles’ face as Derek blushed and looked down, moving his hands a little bit closer against the counter, and Stiles felt a shiver run down his spine as he felt Derek’s thumb settle right along his hip. He had to clear his throat before he could speak, swallowing down the hope that was threatening to bubble over, chewing on his lip as he put one hand on Derek’s chest, the other gently tipping his head back to look him in the eye.

“Dude, if you’re saying what I think you’re saying, you gotta spell it out, I’ve had a crush on you for like forever and if I’m mis-reading this—”

“I told you. I’m your boyfriend, don’t call me dude.”

Stiles laughed again, elation making him feel light and giddy, finally breaking eye contact with Derek as he felt his own blush burn through the back of his neck.

“Stay, Stiles. You belong here. With me.”

Rather than even try to form a coherent response, Stiles dropped one of his hands, cheeks still a ruddy color as he looped a finger into one of the belt loops on Derek’s designer jeans, pulling him just that much closer.

“Derek?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Oh, thank God—"

—————

Yeah, Stiles thought hours later, still feeling the warmth of Derek’s smile against his lips as howls sounded off around the Hale House, moonlight swirling around him from the vantage point he had on the porch.

This was exactly where he belonged.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #hale family #teen wolf fic #fake dating #everyone lives #two halves of a whole idiot #this is actually my first sterek fic ever lmao HOW WILD

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

Text

love you the same

warnings: nah we’re good

summary: coming out to peter (bi!reader)

a/n: hi guys i’m so so so sorry for being ia i just didn’t feel comfy posting for a little while with everything going on. i might dip again but don’t forget to keep signing petitions and speaking up however you can! also HAPPY PRIDE YAYYYY this one’s for my fellow bi disasters <3

your heart is beating faster every second. you feel so nauseous that you can’t breathe right. you’re overwhelmed and terrified for what’s about to happen. it shouldn’t have to be so hard, hell you shouldn’t have to do it in the first place.

the idea that loving who you love needs a big announcement has never sat right with you. it’s not like there’s a default setting on every human being’s sexuality. nobody chooses who they are or aren’t attracted to. still, you want to do it. you’re tired of keeping all of this to yourself.

today is the day you’re ready to come out as bisexual. the first person you’re starting with will be peter. not your family, none of your other friends, but peter. you honestly trust him the most, and he’s always supported you through everything. you’re just not sure how he’s going to react.

obviously peter won’t be against it in any way. he’s not like that, actually far from it. what you’re afraid of is him seeing you differently. you’ve known each other since kindergarten. you used to do all that cheesy stuff like taking baths together. is this going to make him go back and analyze every second he’s spent with you for the last ten years? you’re about to find out.

you’ve been waiting at the door literally since he texted he was his way over. you open it after the first knock to reveal a surprised peter.

“someone’s excited to see me.” he wiggles his eyebrows, sidestepping past you to get inside. you shut the door behind him while he kicks off his shoes. “or maybe you’re not the only one with a tingle,” you joke. “reminds me of something that happened on patrol last night. you gotta hear this. i was-“ “can we talk about it in my room?”

you don’t mean to be abrupt, but you feel like getting this over with already. standing around and putting off the conversation is making it so much scarier. patrol updates will have to be postponed.

“um, yeah. sure. whatever you want.” he gives you a quick nod. without saying anything else, you take peter’s hand and lead him down the hallway. you let go once you get to your room. peter closes your door with a worried look as you gather your thoughts.

“why... are you in a rush or something?” he eyes you nervously. “i didn’t even get to say hi to your mom.” “she’s in her room doing work, so it’s fine. come sit.” you turn to him, pointing at your bed. peter takes the spot in front of where you’re standing. he’s making his signature puppy dog eyes up at you, and it’s so hard to get your words out. you inhale a deep breath.

now that you’re really doing this, you wish you’d made a plan earlier. there’s no right way to come out, but you feel like you’ll be the first person who manages to do it wrong. plus, you’re two kids with anxiety. neither of you wants to talk first.

“what’s going on, y/n/n?” peter finally breaks the silence, tilting his head to the side. “i wanna tell you something. i’m just not sure how because i’ve never said it before.” you twiddle your thumbs as a distraction. you’ve suddenly become very interested in the floor. peter takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it softly, willing you to look up again.

“whatever it is, just take your time. it’s okay.” “okay. thank you.” you squeeze his hand back with a nod.

this is exactly why you felt comfortable talking about this with peter in the first place. he’s so patient with you, and his little bit of encouragement reminded you that you’re making the right decision. you end up sitting down on your bed across from peter. he holds out his other hand for you, and you grab it.

“i don’t want what i’m gonna say to change anything between us, in a good or bad way. i’ll still be the same person. please don’t get freaked out.” you widen your eyes at him to stress your point. half smiling, peter moves both of your hands to rest in his lap. “we’re way past that. you know i’m not going anywhere.”

you find yourself laughing for the first time today. he truly has been by your side forever. every weird phase you’ve had, your family drama, and all the messed up stuff that’s happened along the way hasn’t scared him off. why would you liking girls be the thing to do it?

“true. i think i’m ready for real.” “then i am, too.” you play with his fingers like you were just doing with your own to keep yourself calm. “so, everybody knows i like boys. i talk about it all the time. i’ve told you my crushes.” peter nods so you know he understands. you let him sit with that for a few seconds before you continue.

“those weren’t all of them. that’s because some were girls. what i’m trying to say is, i like boys and girls. i’m bisexual.”

peter’s listening face changes into a huge grin. you hesitate, but raise your eyebrows at him to silently ask what that means. he throws his arms around you in a hug that’s so tight you almost fall over. you hug him back with your head on his shoulder and laugh in shock at his reaction. whatever you were expecting, it definitely wasn’t on this level. you’re enjoying it anyway.

“i’m so proud of you, y/n,” peter says into your ear, then pulls back and grabs your hands again. “that’s cool.” “it is? you’re not, like, rethinking our friendship?” he lets out a breath. “no, and you’re still the same y/n to me. i love you the same way i did before. promise.” “i love you, pete. a lot.” you wind your arms around his neck for another hug. he holds you close to his chest, smiling down at you.

“i’ve kinda had a feeling you were into girls for a while now.” your mouths drops open. “what? no you didn’t.” “i one hundred percent did. it wasn’t just a tingle, either. i have solid proof.” you cross your arms playfully. peter just shrugs like it’s nothing. “let me hear it because i thought i was pretty good at not giving myself away.”

“oh my god, no. there was that time when i caught you checking out liz and you said you were ‘doing research’ for me. you have a whole album in your camera roll dedicated to hot women. should i keep going?” you cover your face with your hands, peter laughing.

“no! that’s literally so embarrassing. also, how do you know about the hot women thing?” peter elbows your arm. “be more selective with who you give your password to.”

“you’re so annoying. but now that you mentioned it, wanna go through it together?” “i was waiting for you to ask.”

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rookisaknight · 4 years ago

Text

Raf Tanager, meet Hope County

⤘⤘⤘There’s a new Deputy in Town⬽⬽⬽

So as a side benefit of getting into this fandom again with a brand new gender and a brand new vibe: a brand new deputy. Excited to introduce you all to my boy, they were developed for a joint Deputy au with @ophiebot (who will do this for their Deputy Elijah Rook if so inclined). Not exactly reinventing any wheels here, but this time its about the indulgence.

FYI, Molly is still extant, but her story I think has been explored in my brainspace as much as it needs to be.

➷The Basics

1. Give their full name, and describe them or post a picture! (Height, build, hair, eye, and skin color, etc.)

Rafael "Raf" Tanager (birth name REDACTED). 5'4", prone to chub but hardening up with the frequent exercise, solid build. Freckles on cheeks that darken as time goes on. Short hair kept red by some truly obsessive hairdye upkeep, which is harder than you might think. Hazel eyes. Burns and shrapnel scars around the eyes and mouth.

2. How old are they?

3. Sexuality and gender?

Bisexual, transmasc genderqueer. She/they/he but a preference for they/he when he doesnt trust the person using them.

➵Pre-Game

1. How did they end up at the Hope County Sheriff’s Department? How long have they worked there?

Raf grew up closer to Missoula, but he’s still a Montana native. They’ve been at this for around 8 months, pretty much right out of graduating college. Even they honestly aren’t sure how they ended up here, just the latest in a series of adrift jobs after graduating, taken primarily to avoid any potential financial dependence on their family. Probably would have resigned soon were it not for. Everything.

2. Relationship with Pratt, Hudson, and Whitehorse?

Pratt: Used to hate his guts. The teasing felt too much like flirting for their comfort and he was honestly kind of a bully. Now its trickier. He's pathetic in a way that’s hard for them to be around, as awful as that is, because it hits too close to home.

Hudson: Had a massive crush on her for most of their early days that pretty much went out the window post Eden’s Gate. They still try a little too hard to impress her though.

Whitehorse: Intellectually, they resent his passivity since it means a lot of Eden’s Gate ended up falling in their lap and he’s STILL insistent that maybe they should have left it alone when they’ve all had months to realize why that was a bad idea in the first place. Emotionally, well, they’re maybe a little in need of a father figure or two.

Elijah Rook: The former Rookie. They were quietly a little intimidated by him prior to all this and that’s never fully gone away, but they’ve now been able to witness more of his dorky side that makes it a little harder to take him seriously. You try chaperoning this guy from one end of Hope County and considering him at all frightening.

3. Do they have an education?

They have a MASTERS and its never relevant to anything because its a humanities degree, specifically the classics. Part of the reason they’re a little adrift currently, there was no easy dismount out of college. Just a hell of a lot of debt.

4. Where are they from? Did they speak a different language there?

Missoula, or close enough to it. They picked up some Latin and Greek from their degree. The Latin comes in handy more often than you’d think, what with the cult stuff, but the reading material is a real bummer.

5. Is there anyone outside the valley that might have come looking for them?

They’ve never had many friends in college and high school that could outlast physical proximity and they basically ghosted their family since that was easier than coming out to them at a certain point. So no, no one they want to find them is looking.

6. Did they have a religious background of any kind?

His father is a preacher, and while there’s some baggage there they would still describe themselves as broadly religious. Or at the very least superstitious.

➷Inside Hope County

1. What was going through their head when the helicopter went down and during the subsequent chase?

The crash was honestly the easiest part. That was just panic. The chase was the hard part. The helicopter exploding ended up catching them in the face, leaving them with burns and scarring that would remain for the rest of their life. She's lucky she wasn’t blinded. Still, he was forced to stumble out of the woods in intense pain and bleeding out. Had it not been for Elijah they definitely would have been taken then and there.

2. Were they afraid of Joseph and Eden’s Gate? Angry?

Terrified. Not just because of what they’ve done but because Raf knows intuitively that he's susceptible to it. As early as their first encounter they have a hard time breaking the hold Joseph gets on their mind. Even though they’re conscious of HOW they’re being manipulated, its hard to resist it.

3. Did they trust Dutch?

At that point Raf would’ve happily taken literally anyone who seemed to know what they’re doing and wasn’t holding a gun to his head.

4. How did they feel about their team being taken by the cult, did they count them as lost, did they want them back, did they not care?

Absolutely the nightmare scenario: people’s lives depending on them and their ability to be decisive. Had it not been for Elijah they probably would’ve high tailed it out of there and tried to find someone higher up the authority chain to deal with this mess. Still, just abandoning them all didn’t sit right with him either, and by the time they’d liberated Fall’s End even he had to admit he was there by his own choice.

5. How did they take to the idea of being part of, if not leading, the resistance?

Again, Raf doesn’t really do well with people depending on them. Alone. they probably would have found it a lot more miserable, but Elijah significantly helped lighten that load for them in terms of having a direction. They’ve found out they’re accidentally pretty good at working with a variety of people and can even be inspiring without meaning to. Still, in their ideal world they would’ve been left alone, or at least remained a foot soldier.

6. Which companions did they recruit, and who did they travel with the most?

All guns for hire were recruited, but Sharky and Nick were their go-to’s, Sharky for personal reasons and Nick for air support. Grace was usually the adult supervision when Nick couldn’t make it but. To be frank Raf's aim isn’t great and it drives Grace a little nuts on prolonged missions. She’s tried teaching them but it never really seems to stick.

7. Did they have time to find romance amidst the chaos? How did they do it?

Sharky. That relationship was a bit of a cold opener (and don’t bother, Sharky already beat you to that joke). After getting their face fucked up during the escape they’ve had a pretty healthy aversion to fire and explosives, making his recruitment a little harrowing. Still, Sharky's sweet in his way, makes them laugh and breathe a little easier when the pressure gets to them, and operates on a pretty similar brainwave. They’ve been joined at the hip since their first few months in Holland Valley. They’re both a little on the codependent side, but really, who are they to complain.

8. Feelings about Joseph?

Joseph taps into a lot of vulnerabilities inside of Raf intuitively. The absence of a strong support system, the loneliness, the fear, the directionlessness, the relationship with their own spirituality, it all provides him a unique entryway into their psyche that he is exactly the kind of person to exploit. As a result, he tends to fixate on them over Elijah, usually to their detriment. Still, that connection can sometimes go both ways, and there are things about Joseph that Raf understands which even his brothers never fully do.

9. Feelings about the other Seeds?

John: They have a unique capacity for antagonizing him. Probably because as an oldest child themselves they know exactly how to jab at the youngest child insecurities. Still, that relationship didn’t stem any deeper and he focused his energies a little more on Elijah. Still, they have him to thank for the Sloth scars on their arm, thanks for that. They’re starting to run out of unmarked skin.

Faith: Faith, meanwhile, was a little more directly focused on Raf, partly because her region was the first time they had to operate a little more on their own. For personal reasons, Elijah wasn’t particularly able to engage with the Bliss. Meaning if Burke was ever going to get saved Raf had to be the one to go in there, again and again. Faith, like Joseph, can tap a lot of that loneliness that Raf has, as well as some gender and sexuality stuff Joseph can’t touch. Suffice to say Sharky had a pretty good reason for being as overbearing as he was during those months, even though he was eventually able to do the job. As a side note, they haven’t had access to their ADHD meds for MONTHS and it doesn’t help when the cult drug is the first thing to make your head feel clear in a while.

Jacob: Jacob was utterly uninterested in Raf and the feeling was mostly mutual. He doesn’t really get him or what he’s about, just knows that the county would be better off when he was put down. Transition goals, though (don’t tell Staci they said that).

10. How did they handle having to kill animals and other humans? Had they done it before?

Animals yeah, you don’t live in Montana as long as they did without hunting occasionally. People....well. You can get used to it.

11. Which canon ending did they choose in-game, and would you have changed the ending at all?

Resist. I wouldn’t. Raf might.

➷Personal

1. Favorite weapon(s)?

They usually prefer to show up to spots early and lay traps, try to minimize the direct combat involvement. When it can’t be avoided though, their pistol isn’t ever far and neither is a hunting knife.

2. Stealth or firepower?

Stealth, one hundred percent. Sharky and Eli are here to do the firepower.

3. How did they spend their time, when not fighting peggies?

A lot of bad movies with the boyfriend and a LOT of poker, one of their more unknown talents. Resistance isn’t gonna fund itself.

4. Where did they live during the events of the game?

Wherever there was a bed they could fall into. Their little trailer they’d been living in prior to all this got absolutely decimated while they were healing up on Dutch’s island.

5. Any other facts you want to share about your Deputy!

He’s got almost supernatural luck to the point that a couple of their guns for hire have gotten superstitious about bringing him to certain events. Including fishing. The catch just always seems somehow a little better. Also he’s privately obsessed with the 1998 recording of Cats and is terrified of anyone finding out.

#far cry 5 #fc5 #far cry deputy #oc: raf tanager #oc: elijah rook #joseph seed #sharky boshaw #long post #far cry rook

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delta-roseblr · 4 years ago

Text

Felix and Kyle Visit an Adult Book Store: Part Two

Hello and Welcome back for part two!

Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a ninety-minute car ride that felt like it had been about four hours they finally arrived at their destination and what a fucking sight it was.

Jimmy’s Adult Toy Chest wasn’t the highest-rated adult store in Nashville. It wasn’t even the closest to their town. It was, however, pretty well known amongst pretty much everyone under the age of 18 as being extremely lax about IDing its patrons. Kyle had turned 18 in September so he didn’t have to worry about that, but Felix wouldn’t be 18 for another eight months. He had a fake ID, a really fucking expensive one actually, but it was for the state of Vermont. That wasn’t necessarily a problem, but Felix was pretty sure it would draw unwanted scrutiny. Jimmy’s Adult Toy Chest’s apparent apathy for looking at effect such things pretty much solved that problem.

Apparently, this also meant that Jimmy’s Adult Toy Chest was in the seediest part of town in the shiftiest looking building Felix had ever seen. It was pretty much just a one-story rectangular building dropped in the middle of a gravel parking lot surrounded by what looked like abandoned buildings. The building might have once been painted red, but the color had long since faded and was presently a weirdly muted and dingy looking pinkish purple color. It had a few windows that Felix could see but they didn’t give away any of the store’s secrets because they appeared to be covered with black paint. Felix felt like he was going to catch an STI just looking at the place.

One look at Kyle and Felix could tell that the place didn’t exactly live up to his expectations either. “Still think this is going to be fun?” Felix questioned with a grin.

Kyle looked at the building for another long minute before turning to Felix and obviously forcing a grin. “If we don’t get murdered,” he answered with fake cheer.

“Or kidnapped and sold on some black market,” Felix offered flatly at what he saw as a real alternative. The place kind of looked like a serial killer’s preferred killing room for fuck’s sake. He grinned humorlessly at Kyle before adding, “You know how there are all those jokes about red-headed step-children? What do you think happens to red-headed sex slaves?”

Kyle chuckled and rolled his eyes. “You are a fucking asshole.”

Felix just continued to grin at him. “You are not the first person to tell me that.”

Unfortunately, even though the place looked like it was going to be the site of a future murder Kyle still wasn’t deterred about going in. Felix knew it had been his idea to come in the first place, but the more he thought about it the more he wanted to get out of it.

The whole situation was just so stupid. The thing he wanted or at least wanted to look into was easily found online on dozens of websites, Felix was sure. Thing was, Felix was one hundred percent sure that his dad checked his internet history now. Felix knew how to scrub that. It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough to handle his dad’s prying eyes. He had done a little looking already and his dad didn’t seem to know about it. So he could have looked at home but buying anything was a complete no go. His dad would absolutely open any package that showed up at the house for him and Felix couldn’t guarantee he would be home in time to beat his dad home to get the mail every day with soccer practice. If Felix wanted to purchase anything he needed to go to a brick and mortar store except he didn’t have a fucking car. Felix was working on that, and he was so fucking close, but that didn’t actually help him at that moment. No car meant he needed a ride which is why he had ended up enlisting Kyle.

Great plan except that Kyle was just so fucking enthusiastic about it. It made Felix feel even more uncomfortable about the whole thing than he already did, and he was already about as uncomfortable as he could get about it. Not that Felix was ashamed of sex or liking sex, but this was a bit more than that.

His last opportunity to escape effectively squashed, Felix walked into the store with Kyle. The outside had prepared him for something dank and dirty and probably sleazy which wasn’t what they got at all. The place was well lit and looked clean and organized. That juxtaposition alone was enough to give Felix pause, but he was sure that the display of dick and boob shaped paraphernalia meant for things like bachelorette parties that were set up so they were the first thing you saw when you walked in didn’t help.

“Wow,” Felix exclaimed. He might have even taken a step back from the shock of all of it. “That’s a lot,” he admitted.

“It’s like sensory overload with sex toys!” Kyle agreed although he sounded more excited than surprised. When Felix looked over at him, Kyle was looking around like a fucking kid in a candy shop. “It’s Toys ’R Us for adults.”

I should have just risked it and bought what I wanted online, Felix thought to himself.

“You two are 18?” Someone asked. Felix looked in the direction of the voice to see a bored girl sitting behind the counter by the register. She looked like she was in her late twenties or early thirties. She had more piercings on her face and in her ears than Felix dare try to count, and her hair was fire-engine red. Her phone was still in her hands and she was looking at them with an annoyed disinterest. It was pretty fucking clear they had interrupted her internet scrolling and she wasn’t fucking happy about it.

“Yeah,” Felix replied easily even though it was very much a lie. Considering his relative history of bad luck, Felix wouldn’t have been surprised if she asked to see their IDs but if she did he was prepared to deal with that.

“Yup,” Kyle also answered. Felix knew it was in his head, but he would have sworn Kyle sounded more sincere than he had. Dean could do that too and Felix blamed the southern accent. Kyle reached into his back pocket as he asked, “Do you need to see our IDs?”

The girl behind the counter actually seemed to think about it although it became clear pretty quickly she wasn’t going to take Kyle up on the offer. She just had to go through the motions for appearance's sake which Felix got even if he didn’t appreciate the stress.

“Nah,” she eventually dismissed and returned to looking at her phone like they didn’t even fucking exist.

Well, that was one hurdle dealt with, Felix guessed.

Felix went to take a step and Kyle caught his arm before leaning into his space to whisper. “Is that porn on the TV behind her?” he asked, and it was hard to tell if he was bewildered or horrified by the thought.

Felix almost asked what TV because he really hadn’t noticed one, but on a second glance, he saw the flat screen TV sitting on the shelves behind her. It took all of two seconds of looking to determine that the TV was, in fact, playing some good, old-fashioned porn. It wasn’t exactly a surprise considering porn was the place’s business, but Felix did find it a little amusing which was probably why he chuckled before answering, “Looks like.”

“Oh,” Kyle exclaimed, and he did sound surprised. How he could be surprised at that point Felix didn’t know because he had eyes and it was clearly porn, but it was Kyle. The guy could be shockingly innocent when it came to some things. “I guess that is on theme,” he commented sounding a little awkward about it.

Maybe he would have been more comfortable if it was gay porn. Or that could have made it worse. Felix really couldn’t tell so it was anyone’s guess.

Unfortunately, Kyle got over his discomfort quickly and went right back to being an excited puppy about the whole thing. He released Felix’s arm but turned to look at him curiously, “So what are you looking for?”

“None of your business,” Felix answered immediately. The thought of actually saying it out loud made Felix’s face burn. He was going to buy it which in its own way was embarrassing enough but he wasn’t going to talk about it.

“Dude,” Kyle laughed, “You know I’m going to see it when you check out, right?”

“Fuck,” Felix hissed, “I hadn’t really thought about that.”

How he had managed to not think about that Felix didn’t fucking know because it really was beyond obvious. He guessed he had been so hung up on actually going to the place that he didn’t think out all of the details as much as he should.

I should have just taken the risk and ordered one off the internet, Felix thought as the situation finally truly hit him.

“Well, now that you are aware why don’t you tell me so I can help look,” Kyle suggested as he started to crane his neck to look around the store curiously.

He was going to find out anyway, Felix realized and let out a sigh. It was stupid but he found himself looking around the store to make sure there was no one nearby to overhear. The girl behind the counter was already engrossed in her phone and Felix was pretty sure that he and Kyle were the only actual customers. “Um….,” Felix hummed. He was just going to admit it because it was going to come out eventually. He totally was until he thought about the horror of actually having to say it out loud really struck him and he couldn’t make the words come out.

“Let’s just start looking around,” he grumbled instead.

“You are literally the definition of a bisexual disaster,” Kyle exclaimed with a dramatic eye roll. It wasn’t the first time Kyle had called him that and Felix was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last. Felix couldn’t even be that mad about it because he wasn’t completely wrong. “Where would you like to start?” Kyle asked as he looked around the store again, “Lube? Sex games and other paraphernalia whatever that means? Bondage?” Kyle gasped at his own question and looked at Felix wide-eyed. “Oh, god, is that why we are here? Like to get a pair of handcuffs or something?”

“No,” Felix dismissed quickly. He liked to think he was a pretty flexible person and he was willing to try a lot in the bedroom but there was no way in fucking hell he would ever let Dean tie him up. Thankfully, Dean had never expressed an interest in that, and Felix couldn’t imagine Dean would want to be tied up either. Dean could barely handle laying back and let Felix pleasure him. He would probably have a fucking heart attack being tied up and completely out of control. “Just… come on.”

#fanfic #OCs #Delix

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gra-sonas · 5 years ago

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So, this afternoon I spent 54 minutes listening to the Shipping Room Podcast episode with Michael Vlamis, because I was interested in whether he’d be asked about 2x06 (he was). Amongst other things, I also learned that

MICHAEL VLAMIS KNOWS AO3 AND HAS READ MALEX FANFIC. ��

But back to 2x06.

One thing beforehand: the podcast host didn’t have any problems with that scene. They didn’t touch on the subject of consent (or the possible lack thereof) which caused issues for a lot of people, they only said they saw many different reactions but they themself didn’t have any issues with the scene itself.

This is a transcript of the podcast segment starting around minute 15:13. Vlamis phoned in for the podcast, and sometimes it’s hard to understand what he said. I may have missed words, or misheard something, so please keep that in mind.

ShippingRoomPodcast: Let's talk a little bit about last week’ episode and sort of the intense reaction. I saw a lot of different stuff online, I feel? And one of them was this concern about erasing Alex’s identity and I kind of just wanted to talk about that for a minute because I didn’t experience it that way at all. For like any number of reasons. First of all, I think you can experiment with different things without impacting your identity and then also, I’d like to hear you take on this. I watched that scene and for me it wasn’t actually about Alex being bisexual [WHICH HE IS NOT, HE IS GAY!], it was about Alex and Maria sharing you [Guerin]. So, it didn’t really change anything to me about who Alex was. I just saw him wanting to be with you and not being the way that he was able to do that. So he took it.

Michael Vlamis: Yeah, I definitely think that the intentions in that scene were— they were very heightened, because, we’ve all been through experiences that changed our lives, that really shook us. And not many of us have been in a corn field with scare crows [?] So who knows, how you’d actually react, after a situation like that. What we were trying to, the take in our show was the idea these three characters, just after this specifically traumatic experience, they wanted to feel love(d). And that is a group of three people, who love each other very much, maybe in different ways, and at different times. But the love that was in that Airstream was palpable, and there was a moment where everybody just kind of wanted to feel protected, wanted to feel safe, and I think, you know, especially from watching my performance.

You never really know what the editors are going to throw into the episode. I do every scene so many different ways. There was a take at the end of episode 2x05 when I’m having my monolog with Max where I like broke down and was like crying on his chest, and that didn’t make it in the show, you know. It’s like sometimes you watch it and like “Oh, it doesn’t need to this here, right?” It just needs the intentional holding back or letting the audience cry for you instead of the character indulging in his tears.

Uhm, and I think with the Airstream, Michael Guerin was like “What are we doing???” He was like “This is unbelievable.” But from his perspective, I don’t think he was thinking to hurt anybody. I don’t think anybody was thinking to hurt anyone. I think there was just “We’re all here, we love each other a great deal and what’s happening, I don’t know, but let’s see it out.” And I think that was the intent was love and feeling protected. [inaudible]

ShippingRoomPodcast: Yeah, yeah. I mean, that came through for me, for sure. And then the other thing that I found so interesting also was this argument that people were making about representation. You know, where they felt like Alex no longer represented who he was supposed to be representing and I sort of felt like this interesting thing where I was like “Okay, well, maybe he doesn’t represent X anymore, but like now he maybe he represents Y.” And maybe there are other people who’ve been watching the show who for the first time feel like they’re seeing themselves in a character, and maybe that’s not you anymore, and that’s something to deal with for sure and something to work through, but it’s not necessarily bad that there’s somebody else now who gets to say “Oh, there I am.”

Michael Vlamis: Yeah. I totally see what you’re saying and, you know, I have to be careful speaking about this stuff because in life, I’m a straight male. So, no matter how deep I go into the character, I don’t know actually, what it is like to live day by day as a gay man, or a bisexual man. I just know what I know, and I try to bring my experiences to the table under these different circumstances which my character lives in.

But, I mean, have you never heard of a fully straight man or woman hooking up with the same sex? Has nobody ever heard of a gay man hooking up with a woman? You know, I’ve heard so many stories and you know, we touched this earlier, being 30 now, and having lived, you know, about a third of a life, I come across so many people that have experimented or in the heat of a moment have done something that maybe wasn’t what they represented. So, what are you supposed to represent? What are you even supposed to do in life?

You’re supposed to do anything but follow your truth and follow your instincts and do what makes you happy while being respectful and having your moral compass, going in the right direction. So, I don’t know if there’s like a— I don’t know if there’s a “supposed to”. In that moment, that’s what that character did, was that mean [not sure if he actually says mean, hard to hear]? He’s bisexual in the show, I don’t know, does that mean he’s not 100% gay.

I don’t know what that’s supposed to look like. I don’t know, and I don’t think anybody knows. Which is kind of the most interesting thing to me. That we can be one thing one day and another thing the next. And it’s okay to experiment sometimes and figure out, you know, who you are or what you want, or why you did something in a given moment.

Totally. But I also feel like, especially with sexual experiences like, and I can speak totally from my own personal experiences on this. Like I feel sometimes, you make choices, that are the wrong choices for you. And that’s sort of what clarifies what the right choices are. And so, to me also Alex walked away from that being like “Nope, I don’t need to do that again.” That’s super legitimate also.

Yeah, I mean, he even kind of talks up on that in our conversation outside the Airstream after it happened, in the episode. Like he would never in a million years have envisioned that was going to happen. but it did and so many things do happen in our lives that we don’t plan for or, you know, that we’re happy we did or ashamed we did or you know, exactly what you were saying, it’s those choices that maybe are a hundred percent you know, who we are, but we have to make those choices, to figure out who we are.

ShippingRoomPodcast: Exactly. Yeah, so, going forward, like do you […] when you got the script for this scene, what was your reaction?

Michael Vlamis: I mean, I couldn’t believe it. I was like “Oh my god, the internet is going to break. Uhm, but the biggest conversation for this scene in this specific episode was how does Heather Hemmens, who plays Mar!a, feel about the situation and how can Tyler and myself make her the most comfortable she could be. Because shooting a scene like that is not easy. In a tight Airstream, and it’s a bunch of actors— we’re not dating in real life or anything, you know. We’re there, working, doing our job, portraying our characters as truthfully as possible. And you wanna make sure everyone’s comfortable. So that was really one of the first things I thought of. It’s like “okay, how do we make sure, that we’re completely comfortable.” That really started with C*rina. You know, she approached Heather and talked her through it and just made sure that Heather was game for it. Because C*rina really respects our feedback, and our input, and would never want to put us in a situation that doesn’t feel right to us as people, but also maybe doesn’t go with our characters. So we were all down on the same page about that, after the kind of old shock factor of it all. But it made sense, that that scene would happen in that specific episode, because that whole episode was almost supposed to feel like a fever dream or something. It’s almost like a Halloween episode on the show without it being Halloween. It made sense that it’s something that while it’s going to happen, it was in that episode.

#michael vlamis #rnm 2x06 #malex #alex manes #mgv interviews

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stevie-steven-stevington · 5 years ago

Text

revelations

the latest installment (third one i’ve written but technically second in sequential order) of my ace!peter series (can be read as a standalone)

read it on ao3

first | previous | next

The first time Peter came out to Ned, he was fourteen and, so it had seemed, hopelessly in love.

I’m bisexual, he’d said, and Ned had looked away from whichever Star Wars movie they’d been watching to stare at him.

I’m bisexual, he’d said, and Ned had smiled and high-fived him and thanked Peter for trusting him enough to tell him.

I’m bisexual, he’d said, and Ned had accepted it with no second thought. No questions asked, other than whether he was out to anyone else or not (to which the answer was a hard no). Simple as that.

The second time Peter comes out to Ned, he is sixteen and not so hopelessly in love.

It’s not simple anymore.

There’s more pieces at play this time. Things are more...delicate, now, because it doesn’t just affect Peter. As soon as he says what he needs to say out loud, everything will change. Their relationship will change, the way Ned looks at him will change, the expectations for their future will change.

Maybe he’s being dramatic, but this could be the thing that ruins them.

He’s definitely being dramatic. Ned would never break up with him because of this, they’re too good together.

Right?

Right. He has to be right.

He’s been trying to find the right time to tell Ned for weeks. It’s four months into their relationship, four weeks since he came out to himself, three weeks since he came out to Tony, and all the while, the anxiety’s been eating at him. He’s stressed. He’s so incredibly stressed, and he’s pretty sure Ned can tell.

“Babe, I can hear you thinking.”

He’s one hundred percent sure Ned can tell.

“Sorry,” Peter says quickly, clumsily spinning his pencil between his fingers. He��s supposed to be doing his homework, but his focus is elsewhere. “I just...have a lot on my mind.”

“Spider-Man stuff?” Ned asks, eyes sparkling with excitement even now, so many months after the accidental reveal.

He could say yes. He could just say yes and make up some story about a robbery or a mugging or, better yet, an Avengers mission - because he goes on those now - and that would be that. The conversation would be over, and Peter could go back to pretending to do his homework and stressing.

“No,” he says, because he has to. Because if he doesn’t do this now, it’ll be another four weeks before he finds the courage to even think about telling Ned again. He can’t handle another four weeks of being this scared.

He’s gotten used to being scared over the years, but this is a different type of fear. It’s different than his secret identity fear. It’s different than his patrolling fear. It’s different, even, than all the other variations of his coming out fear, of which he’s discovered many.

(It’s most similar, he thinks, to his fear of not being good enough. That one’s been here for as long as he can remember and no matter what he does, he can’t seem to get rid if it.)

Ned didn’t look at him any different the first time, but Peter knows that he will this time.

He could just not tell him. He could just pretend for the rest of his life, and let Ned continue to believe his boyfriend is perfectly normal.

Tony says he is perfectly normal. Says Peter’s not allowed to think he’s not.

Peter’s usually pretty good at following rules, but he’s still working on that one. He knows - rationally, logically, he knows - but sometimes the word damaged still rings in his ears and he forgets.

“Peter?”

Ned is looking at him weird. He’s been quiet too long, missed whatever his boyfriend was saying.

He puts his pencil down. “Huh?”

“Are you okay?” Ned asks, and his concern is practically etched into his forehead.

Great. His stress is stressing Ned out.

Really, Peter should have expected him to know something was off. The two of them have always been so in tune with each other, since long before they kissed in Ned’s bedroom over a half-built set of Legos, that they have practically a sixth sense.

Ned knows him too well. No matter how good of a show he puts on, he always sees through it. Every time, without fail.

(Although, truth be told, he’s not a very good liar anyway.)

“I, uh -” Peter rubs circles into the inside of his left wrist with his thumb. His head hurts, the gentle pulse of anxiety thrumming behind his eyes. And he has to do this now, he has to rip the bandaid off, or else the pulse will never fade. “Ned, I -” “Are you breaking up with me?” Ned interrupts, and he’s joking, sort of, mostly, but there’s a glint of real worry under the teasing.

Okay, what? “What?” Backwards. That’s so backwards. Ned’s worried about Peter breaking up with him, while Peter’s been expecting the reverse for weeks. “No - no, of course not!”

He’s too far away. They’re too far away from each other to have this conversation, with Peter at his desk and Ned sitting cross-legged on the bed, and he’s itching to hold his boyfriend’s hand. He slides off his chair and moves to join Ned on the bed, scooting forward so tat their knees touch.

Peter reaches out to take Ned’s hands in his - Ned doesn’t protest, but his nerves do show in the way his shoulders shift - and sits up just the tiniest bit straighter.

“Okay. Okay, we’re - we’re doing this,” Peter says, mostly to himself. Ned’s fingers tighten around his, and he’s fairly sure it’s involuntary. “Ned. My angel. There’s...something I need to tell you.”

Ned’s eyes still have that oh god, he’s breaking up with me look. It’s an awful look.

This is...not exactly how he thought this was going to go.

Firmly, earnestly, he says, “I am not breaking up with you. I’d never, okay? But - but you might want to break up with me after this.”

“I - why would -”

Peter kisses him, gently. Lingeringly. When he pulls back, Ned is quiet, his eyes still half-closed and the worry lines in his forehead blissfully smooth.

He wonders if he made it worse for himself by putting it off. Wonders if it would’ve been easier had he just bit the bullet and told him four weeks ago, as soon as he’d realized. Wonders if Ned should’ve been the first person he told, whether he was ready or not.

Wonders if, maybe, he owed it to Ned to tell him first and fucked that up just as surely as he’s going to fuck up their relationship.

No. No, that’s not right.

He wasn’t ready then, and nothing would’ve made this conversation harder than starting it prematurely.

He wasn’t ready then, but he’s ready now.

Peter takes a deep breath -

(In. Out.

Everything’s going to be fine.

He can do this.)

- and, all in one go, says, “I’m asexual. And maybe you know what that means, but maybe you don’t, so in case you don’t...it means I don’t experience sexual attraction and I don’t really...get the whole concept of finding people sexy and I - I don’t want to have sex, with - with you or anyone.

“I know it changes things, so I understand if this means you want to break up. I - I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when we first started dating, but I only just realized recently and -”

“Peter, baby, breathe.”

Peter sucks in a breath so harsh it burns as Ned rubs his thumbs, lightly, across his knuckles - a way of calming him down that Ned’s been using since long before they got together.

He’s smiling. Ned’s smiling this soft, fond little smile, and there’s so much affection in his eyes, so much adoration, that Peter can’t believe he ever thought Ned would dump him over this.

“Hi,” Ned says softly, once Peter’s breathing steadily again, releasing one of his hands to carefully tuck a stray lock of hair behind Peter’s ear before giving his hand back. “Pete - alright, first of all, thank you. Thank you for telling me, thank you for trusting me with this, just - thank you.” Peter’s not tearing up. He’s not.

He didn’t cry last time, with Tony - not really, at least - and he’s not going to cry this time. He’s not going to cry because it’s not sad, and at this point, he doesn’t have tears to spare on things that aren’t sad.

He nods jerkily. Ned squeezes his fingers and continues, “So, just to make sure I’ve got this right - you don’t wanna have sex, like, ever?”

Another shaky nod.

“Like, ever,” he confirms.

“Okay,” Ned says, and there’s nothing in his voice that even implies that it’s not. “Okay, then we won’t have sex.”

It’s so matter-of-fact, like another answer never even crossed his mind. Like another answer doesn’t even exist in his book.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

“Ned, I - I can’t ask you to -”

“You’re not asking.” Ned’s tone leaves no room for argument. “I’m telling you, Peter - if you don’t want to, then we won’t. Simple as that.”

Simple. Peter opens his mouth, but nothing comes out except this odd stuttery noise that he thinks is the beginning of...something. Something that doesn’t seem to have an end. Or a middle, for that matter.

The way Ned’s looking at him now is the same way Ned looked at him twenty minutes ago. The same way Ned looked at him four months ago. The same way Ned looked at him two years ago.

He might cry. He’s trying really hard not to, but he’s teetering.

“I don’t ever want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” Ned lets go of him entirely this time to link his hands across the back of Peter’s neck. His fingers tangle in the hair at the base of his head. “I love you, Peter, and in terms of importance, that beats out literally everything else. I’m with you for you, baby, not for sex. Or, just to cover all our bases here, for Spider-Man. Or for anything else you can think of that’s not my best friend and boyfriend, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

Best friend and boyfriend. Ned always puts best friend first, always says that the best thing about them is the fact that they were best friends first. That they’d loved each other in a million ways already, so when they fell in love, that number just became a million and one.

The bed creaks as Peter tilts forward to press his face into Ned’s shoulder. He lets his eyes flutter shut and twists his fingers into the front of his boyfriend’s t-shirt. Wetly, muffled in his sleeve, he says, “I love you too, Ned.” He promised he wouldn’t cry, but the wet spot forming on Ned’s shirt is telling him he broke that promise.

“So this means you’re...it’s ‘biromantic’, right? Instead of ‘bisexual’?”

The question itself isn’t funny, but Peter still huffs a choked laugh, because of course that’s what he asks. Not the things he was actually scared Ned would ask (How would you know if you’ve never tried it? Can’t you just fake it?), just...just whether he’s got the terminology right or not.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Peter says, and god, he loves this boy. He loves him more than he ever thought he could love someone, more than he ever thought he had the capacity to love someone.

Ned’s fingers run up and down Peter’s spine, tingling all the way down to his toes. He gives a contented sigh. “Sweet. Got it.” There’s something else he wants to ask, he can hear it in the hitch of his boyfriend’s voice.

He’s fully prepared to wait, but it’s not long before Ned says, “Hey, I - I have to ask...I know it’s different for everyone, I know that sometimes it’s not just sex, it’s other types of - of intimacy -”

Not quite what he might’ve expected, but the question isn't surprising, not at all. Now that it’s been asked, Peter knows he would’ve wondered the exact same thing if the tables were turned.

Pulling back, Peter sits up straight and places his hands on Ned’s knees, making him stop mid-sentence. Waits just a second for his boyfriend’s eyes to meet his, then, in as firm a voice as he can muster, tells him, “Anything that we’ve already done is okay, Ned. Better than okay. Nothing you’ve ever done, nothing we’ve ever done, has made me uncomfortable, alright? Never.”

Ned exhales, and his relief is palpable. “Good. Okay, good, I’m glad.” Peter kisses the tip of his nose. Ned laughs, face scrunching up automatically, and playfully shoves Peter’s shoulder before his expression sobers quickly. “But Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“This means you have to tell me when something does make you uncomfortable. I don’t want you forcing yourself to do things you don’t want to do because you think...you think you owe me or something.” Peter starts to speak, but Ned shushes him and his mouth snaps shut.

“Babe, I need you to promise that you’ll talk to me.” Ned takes his hands again - this time with palms facing Peter, fingers laced together, and elbows resting on his knees so their hands sit in the space between their chests. “Whatever it is, however disappointed you think I’ll be, I want you to promise me that you’ll tell me if I do something you don’t like. Promise me that you’ll tell me if I suggest something you know you won’t like. I can’t read your mind, Peter, as cool as having telepathy would be, which means you have to tell me when you don’t like something so I know what not to do.” “Ned -” “Promise me.”

“Okay!” Peter leans forward to rest his forehead against Ned’s, then lowers his voice to say again, “Okay, angel. I promise.”

They meet in the middle in a soft kiss, lips slotting together perfectly, like they were always meant to.

“And if you want to have a real talk about boundaries,” Peter whispers when they break, hovering just inches apart, “we can have that. Another time, though, if that’s okay.” He feels him smile more than he sees it. “Of course it’s okay. Whatever you need, Petey.”

“You’re amazing,” Peter says, pressing another kiss to Ned’s lips, “and I love you.”

Ned squeezes his hands one last time. “I love you too. Until the sun swallows the earth.”

Peter grins against his mouth. “Until the sun swallows the earth.”

And somehow, despite all the complications and obstacles and hurdles, despite everything, that’s all that matters.

#asexual!peter #ace peter #peter parker #ned leeds #interwebs #spiderman #coming out #irondad #bi peter #fluff #angst #jude writes #fic #spiderman fic #mcu #marvel #mine

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prince-simon · 6 years ago

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ooooh you're taking prompts, you go girl! let's see... 43 for evak, that sounds like it could go many different ways

Hiii dear anon💖 happy valentine’s day to you! (idk if it’s still the 14th where you are but it is here so yeah sldfhsd)when I looked up what 43 is, I admit, I had absolutely no idea what I would write buuuuuuut I got inspired after all (what a strange feeling after such a long time) so I hope you like this 💖

43. “Why can’t you see that?”

Since the Kaffebrenneriet closest to their flat was closed for renovations, Magnus and Isak went to a different café they’d never been to before. It was only a couple streets away from their flat and they were both lazy to go farther. They figured the coffee there would be just as good.

It had become somewhat of a tradition for them to go out for coffee at least once a week since they moved to Kristiansand for University — if they didn’t do that, they would probably never leave the flat except for actually going to classes.

In the beginning, right after moving away from Oslo, Isak hadn’t been sure how things would go; yes, Magnus was his bro, but they’d never been as tight as Isak and Jonas had been. But coincidentally, they’d both ended up in Kristiansand and it had been clear that they’d move in together — it just made sense, and things a lot easier to know at least one person in a new environment.

And it worked. Isak wasn’t one-hundred percent sure how but he assumed that maybe it had something to do with Magnus coming out to him as bisexual one drunk night a month into their lives in Kristiansand. The gays had to stick together after all.

They’d ordered their drinks about ten minutes ago and Isak had barely been able to take his eyes off of the waiter ever since. His mouth felt dry and he was sure he still felt the butterflies in his stomach from when the guy had set down his mug in front of Isak and shot him a sunny smile, squinting his eyes closed and everything.

Isak was a naturally guarded person — even more so about romantic feelings after a nasty incident at Nissen that resulted in him being outed to the whole school. In short, Isak usually didn’t crush on people. Except it only took one blue-eyed, smiling glance with this one and Isak’s heart basically tried to jump out of his chest.

Unfortunately, Magnus picked up on it rather quickly. Even worse, it took him only one glance at Isak and then at the waiter for him to put the pieces together. And Magnus being Magnus, he let out the loudest screech, drawing everyone’s attention on them — the waiter’s included, obviously — and Isak sank down in his seat, trying to hide. “He’s pretty hot,” Magnus stated casually, as if continuing a normal conversation they had.

“No!” Isak whined. It was a little scary how similar their taste in guys was — well, if you didn’t consider Magnus thinking literally everyone was hot. “He might not even be gay! Stop it!” Isak hissed, knowing exactly what Magnus was thinking.

Magnus shook his head, opening his mouth to reply when the guy walked over to them. Another one of his disarming smiles; Isak felt like choking. “Do you need anything else?” He asked, eyes never leaving Isak.

Isak tried to speak, he really did. Back in the days, when he hadn’t been out yet, he’d never had troubles flirting with girls. He figured that was because he wasn’t actually interested in them. He was a mess around boys. Miserably, he shook his head.

“Okay, just let me know if you do! Just call me over. The name’s Even.”

“Thanks, Even!” Magnus chirped. Pointedly, he added, “That’s Isak, by the way.”

Isak’s eyes snapped to Magnus in horror. Could he please not be that obvious?

Magnus just smirked and winked at him. Isak hated him.

Isak kept shooting surreptitious glances at Even, who stopped by their table a couple more times — always with that smile, fucking hell. But he engaged with all the customers like that so it didn’t mean anything like Magnus insisted.

“Bro!” Magnus exclaimed exasperated, after the fifth time Even had come over. “He’s totally into you! Why can’t you see that?”

Isak looked around them, scared Even might have heard Magnus but he had gone to the backroom it seemed. “He’s just friendly! Like he’s with everyone else!”

Magnus sighed, throwing his hands in the air. “I’ll call Jonas, he has to talk some sense into you! You’re gay, Isak, aren’t you supposed to have a gaydar? You’re useless!”

Isak wiggled around uncomfortably. If he was being honest, he was scared of rejection. Isak hadn’t said a single word to Even, he probably thought he was a complete idiot. “Can we just leave?” Isak asked dejectedly.

Magnus didn’t seem happy about that but he noticed Isak’s mood change. “Are you sure?”

Isak nodded. He wanted to get out of there and never come back — or like, coincidentally walk past the cafe a couple times in the following weeks to peek in through the window and hopefully catch a glimpse of Even. Crushing from afar.

Magnus waved at Even who immediately came over to their table, smiling broadly. “What can I do for you?”

Magnus told him that they just wanted to pay and he sounded as sad as Isak felt. Next time, Isak promised himself, he wouldn’t be as much of a coward.

Even actually pouted for a split second, before the sunny smile was back on his face. “I’ll be back with your cheque in a second!”

“Dude, it’s your last chance,” Magnus encouraged quietly as soon as Even was gone.

“He’s way out of my league,” Isak shook his head.

It was actually quite nice how appalled Magnus looked. “You’re pretty hot, Isak! And your personality isn’t too bad either. Most of the time at least.”

That actually startled a laugh out of Isak but he shook his head anyway.

They paid and said their goodbyes, Magnus deliberately taking his time when they left the cafe to give either Isak or Even the chance to do something.

But then they were out on the street and Isak already tried to come up with ways to forget about his stupid crush.

They were a couple metres down the street when they heard someone call after them. “Wait!” It was Even, of course. “Isak!”

Magnus turned to Isak, squeaking excitedly. Isak’s stomach dropped. He mentally went through a checklist of things he could have forgotten in the cafe — he didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Even jogged up to them, coming to a halt right in front of Isak. His cheeks were flushed. He was so pretty. Isak had a hard time breathing.

“I was wondering- uh, I hope this isn’t too weird but- would you like to go out with me sometime?”

Before Isak’s brain even caught up with the question, Magnus yelled, “Yes! Fucking yes, dude, he’d love to!”

Even barked a laugh, the tension visibly falling off of him and Isak couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his friend. (Maybe, definitely, he was actually glad about Magnus being there.)

Isak’s cheeks were burning and he just nodded enthusiastically, answering the question. For the date, maybe he’d even be able to talk around Even.

#anon #ask #this was actually fun to write #i love magnus #and it's over 1k!!#evak fanfic #skamfic #skam fanfic #skam #evak #am i a writer yet

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joyandowen · 6 years ago

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Do the boys ever go to the movies? If so can we have a scene where they come out arguing over what they thought the movie was about?

They’re not necessarily arguing about the movie, but they do have a bit of back and forth about the star of it.

Joy has five siblings. Owen knows about exactly none of them, and that seems to be for the best, so far. He’s not sure how differently Owen would treat him if he knew about his family. He has two brothers and a sister who are elites in Hollywood, famous actors, on all the magazine covers, another brother who acts as lead singer/guitarist for one of the biggest bands on the charts, and another sister who brushes elbows with the likes of Versace and Armani, the people not just the companies.

Joy has managed, thus far, to keep himself out of the light his siblings bring upon their family, to the point that he’s fortunate enough not to get recognized. Perhaps through luck, or his siblings insistence of keeping him on the down low until he finds his place in the world, or perhaps because the press isn’t that interested in the crippled youngest sibling in a family of standouts.

Whatever the reason, Joy is glad that he can travel with Owen and he doesn’t have to worry about being recognized. However, he’s sure it will come to pass at some point or another, if only due to the fact that Owen loves everything his family does.

His favorite movies all star Sam or Orion, Joy’s older brothers, he owns every single Daydream Dryads album (also Joy’s brother), and the one and only item of designer anything that Owen has is a ‘honest to God, hundred percent legit, I pre-ordered it, that’s how I know’ pair of Meadow Carlisle shoes that were, in his words, too good to pass up on. They cost upwards of six hundred dollars, and Owen said it was worth it.

So when a new movie comes out starring Owens favorite star, Sam Carlisle, as the dashing male lead, Joy isn’t the slightest bit surprised when Owen insists they go and see it.

It’s amazing, mostly. Well, Sam is amazing. Joy takes a selfie with the poster when they leave the theater and sends it to his eldest sibling, Owen watching him the whole time as he takes the picture and smiles like a dork at his phone.

“Anyways, as I was saying,” Joy begins, hunching a bit under Owen’s arm thrown over his shoulder, “The performance was there, trust me, I’m not hating on the performance. I’m hating on the plot. If anything I think the performance was the only thing that made that movie watchable.”

“I’m not saying you’re wrong,” Owen starts, using the arm hooked around Joy to sip from the dregs of their overpriced soda, “but you are so wrong. The story was good, the plot was good, and the performance, mmm-“ he kisses the tips of his fingers, “fucking amazing. Even if the plot was awful, I wouldn’t have been able to tell past Sam Carlisle’s acting.” Owen shrugs and earns an eye roll in return.

Joy gently unhooks his arm, the extra weight was throwing off his balance and making it hard to walk. “Clearly.”

“I’m serious, Joy! That guy’s, like, the best actor of our generation. He can save all the terrible plots. Like, what was that movie from like two years ago, December in July? Godawful, just the worst. But did I see it in theaters four times? You bet your sweet ass I did. The guy gives such a great performance you almost have to go along with it, y’know?”

Joy laughs, shoving lightly at Owen’s side, “Dude, December in July was garbage and even Sam knows that. I mean watch any of his interviews from that movie and it’s so obvious how much he hated it.” Joy takes the empty soda cup from Owen when the vicious slurping from the straw becomes too much and tosses it in the nearest garbage can.

“No, no, I know. I didn’t say it was good, December in July was a mess. The point I’m trying to make is that Sam Carlisle is a great actor and a national treasure.”

“I guess,” Joy snorts before Owen continues on.

“Also, like, hot? Super hot, holy shit. Like I try not to get all gross and gay over celebrities but I would bend over for him without even stopping to ask why-“

“Owen! Gross!” Joy shrieks, shoving at his side again. Owen tips his heads bit to get a better look at Joy’s pink cheeks. Holy shit he hasn’t made the guy blush this bad in weeks.

“It’s not gross. Why is that gross? I’m just saying Sam Carlisle can rail me and-“ he gets a punch in the arm, and Joy’s face looking more angry now than embarrassed.

“Stop! Jesus. I just- I mean- ugh, he reminds me of my brother! Like I can’t be attracted to him ‘cause then it’s like having the hots for my brother.”

Owen smacks his shoulder and nearly doubles over laughing, which Joy doesn’t appreciate. But Owen doesn’t have the sense of mind to give the poor guy a break. “Dude! We have to fix that! You gotta watch more of his stuff, maybe if we immerse you enough you’ll disconnect that thought and be able to fanboy with me.” He drops the empty popcorn bucket into the next trash can they walk by.

Joy rolls his eyes again, hugging himself as they turn the corner. They’d had to park pretty far away, but it was luckily one of those small towns where everything is in walking distance. “I’ll pass on that.” Joy snorts, rubbing his arms against the wind that rushes through and chills him a little.

“You didn’t even give that much thought, you don’t even want to try?”

“Not really. He’s just. I dunno, I guess he’s just not my type.” Joy shrugs, and turns to give Owen a sideways glance when the other tugs his sweater off and drapes it over Joy’s shoulders. He smiles a little, and he slips his arms through the sleeves, tugging the sweater tighter around himself. Owen snorts that Sam is everyone’s type and Joy just waves a hand at him. “Dude, just let it go,” he laughs.

“I can’t,” Owen says, shaking his head, “I just can’t let this go, what kind of male attracted person doesn’t find Sam Carlisle hot? He’s… Joy, he is God’s perfect creation. Sent down here by the man himself just to turn people like you and me gay.”

Joy throws up his hands, stopping and turning to face Owen, “Fine! Fine, okay. I didn’t wanna tell you this, but I just really want you to drop this, So here it is- I did a movie with him.” Owen reels back, taking a full step backwards to emphasize his surprise.

“What? Fake!”

“Nope, I’m serious, it was back when he was just getting started, it’s called Girls Like Hannah, I was the comatose brother. They gave it to me because I didn’t have to get up through it and it was easy to hide my lack of legs. He played my brother and I have never been able to get past that. Past the brother thing. I will probably never find him attractive.” Joy shrugs, and he tilts his head a bit at the look of pure shock on Owens face.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“I can’t believe you were in a movie with Sam Carlisle, and you didn’t fucking tell me! You monster.” Owen reaches up, grabbing the drawstrings on the hood and pulling them so Joy gets trapped.

Joy snorts and bats his hands away, pulling the hood back open, “Well I didn’t realize you had such a hardon for him-“

“What’s he like? I mean other than brotherly, what was he like beyond that, is he nice? If he- oh my god- is he gay?”

“He’s married to Elizabeth Steinbar?” Joy frowns, “Can you chill please?”

“Okay he’s married to a woman but he could be bisexual.” Owen grins, throwing his arm over Joy again, and pushing him to walk again.

“I can confidently say that Sam Carlisle doesn’t seem to be the slightest bit gay.” He waves a hand at Owen’s disappointed snort. “Anyways, you wanted ice cream or something right? We passed a shop that does that rolled ice cream stuff on the way here, we’ll stop and get some. I’ll buy, y’know with my Sam Carlisle movie money.” Joy grins.

“So not fair,” Owen huffs, and Joy takes the hand over his shoulder and pulls it into place a kiss on his palm.

“You’ll live. Come on, ice cream!” He grins, tugging on Owen’s arm and pulling him to the shop.

Inside is set up almost like a cute little cafe, with tables around for people to sit at, comfortable music and lights that aren’t too bright. Joy grins and drags Owen in to see what all they’ve got. Owen keeps his arm resting over Joy’s shoulders as they scan the selections, “I think I’m gonna get that s’mores one. It looks fucking good. What about you?”

“I’m leaning towards the strawberry cheesecake.” Joy mumbles, tapping a finger to his chin, “Yeah. Definitely strawberry cheesecake.” He confirms, nodding a little. They finally step up to the counter after a couple in front of them has gotten their ice cream, and place their order, Joy still holding Owen’s arm over his shoulder, fingers twined together.

They move out of the way and they watch as the man behind the counter starts to make their treats. Owen leans his head over a bit to rest his cheek against Joy’s hair, watching the man work with gentle ‘ooh’s. He serves up Owen’s first, and he accepts the cup with his free hand, when Joy’s is finished he does the same. They don’t part until they sit, when it kind of becomes necessary for them to be able to eat.

Joy scoops up a bite of his and hasn’t even gotten it to his mouth yet when he hears Owen making a pleased sound across the table from him. He looks up and Owen is staring at the cup in his hand. “Oh my god this is so good. Holy shit.” He grins and gets another scoop, offering it out to Joy, “Try it, try it, it’s really good!”

It’s so… It’s so good, to see Owen so happy, Joy thinks, and he gently takes Owen’s wrist into his hand, guiding it forward so he can take the bite of ice cream right off the spoon. He contemplates it for a moment, and he hums, nodding. “Yeah that is really good.” He smiles, and he loves the way that Owen smiles back before returning his focus to his food. Joy almost forgets to eat his own because he’s having such a good time just watching Owen be happy.

He finally takes a bite, and his is delicious as well, as he’d expected. He smiles, and he offers Owen a bite, which the brunette happily takes. He mirrors Joy’s earlier tactic and just takes his wrist and eats the bite right out of the spoon.

Joy watches his face twist up into this happy expression, he almost looks like a kid. Eyes closed, grinning from ear to ear.

It’s a rare moment. Joy’s just glad he has quick enough reflexes to grab his phone and snap a picture before the smile goes away.

When Owen’s attention returns to his own cup, Joy’s eyes drift to his phone, and the picture of Owen, as happy as he’s ever seen him. It’s a nice reprieve from the week they’ve been having. Owen’s depression spiking, Joy finding out about what exactly lead to him running away from his life so suddenly, the way he weakly brushed off the idea of the waterpark because he thought it would be too much of an inconvenience for Joy to deal with.

It’s nice to see him happy again.

All Joy wants is to protect that, he wants to see that smile on his face so much more, the brief moments like this where he gets to have it feel far too fleeting, and Joy wants more of it.

He’s in too deep, and he knows it, but he’d happily let himself drown in it if that smile was the last thing he got to see.

#story time #story bog #short story blog #anthology story blog #cute boys being cute #joy carlisle #owen peterson #anonymous #asked and answered

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queer-lemons · 3 years ago

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Ok so normally I don't enter discourse because why start shit but also I'm kind of in a rut with the thing I'm working on so why not do this.

Ok so first of all, someone saying "I'm queer" when they're not could be a couple of things:

1. "I'm queer... but I'm just pretending to be. I am actually cishetallo."

2. "I'm queer... but I'm not actually sure yet if I am... I just think I might be."

There are people who say they're queer when they definitively know they are not. And @roobenbhai (@roobenbhai-picrews this u?), that can be scary, I get that!

A lot of queer people have too much experience with being told we can trust someone, and then having that trust betrayed. It's a real fear for me, and I think many others, that someone will, for a reason I don't understand, betray us!

So it's natural to worry, "what if these queer people I love end up being like everyone else who's hurt me." I think what's important to remember is that we cannot assume that those people are in our groups. We cannot begin to wonder if they're around any corner.

Basically, we are afraid sometimes. That comes with being queer. But we also have a community, and we do owe them some trust, so that our community can thrive.

The second worry is that someone will say they are queer when they're actually not sure about it. And I don't think we should be worried about that. I said I was queer when I entered some spaces a couple years ago, and I wasn't actually a hundred percent sure.

Queerness is so big and beautiful and changing and different at every point. Identifying as queer is exactly so that we don't have to know exactly who we're attracted to when, or what our gender is when, or who we love and when.

Queer is a blanket term, so you have to share that blanket. We need to welcome questioning people so that they can discover whether or not this blanket is for them!

Finally, I actually disagree with @hater-of-terfs tags (although I do understand where they're coming from, and agree with most of the rest of their writing).

As someone who is genderfluid, bisexual, AND aromantic, adding the allo is actually really important to me! Being aro gets me a lot of shit, and recognizing that allo people do have a priviledge that we do not.

Also, sure, it doesn't cover everything, like polyam people. A better word might be amanormativity! But it doesn't mean nothing to remind people that aro people are here.

If you are going to have literally no criteria for being queer, then how can you say that anyone isn't? How can you refer to any person in any context as cis/straight?

If someone tells me they’re queer I believe them. If someone tells me they’re straight I believe them. This isn’t that hard

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skyerie · 3 years ago

Text

OC Interview: Leilani Lavellan

Thank you for tagging me, @oxygenforthewicked ~

Introduction Can you introduce yourself?

I could, but what’s the fun in that? *smirks* Fine, fine. Leilani Lavellan, lover of fine wines and the Inquisitor of the Inquisition.

What is your gender identity, orientation and relationship status?

Female, definitely bisexual, though an argument could be made for pansexual. *grins* My relationship status is… very complicated right now.

Where and when were you born?

Uh… Arlathan, like two thousand years ago? Like, the Golden City area. I think. Not exactly one hundred percent certain.

What is your weapon of choice and fighting style?

Sword, usually. Usually a one-handed, but a two-handed is great, too. Of course, I’m also a mage, so. *shrugs* Magic. My fighting style? Whatever works!

Lastly, are you happy?

…uh… I’ll get back to you on that? I’m not unhappy, I guess?

Family and Friends

What’s your family like? What is your relationship with them?

HA. Terrible with my parents, awesome with my half-sister Morrigan and her kid – my nephew – and my many-greats grandson, Dorian! I have a great relationship with them, at least.

Have you ever ran away from home?

Nah. Knew I wouldn’t survive on my own. Father didn’t really teach me life skills.

Would you consider marriage or having children?

Marriage? I’d rather not. Too… impermanent for me. Children? Yeah!

Do you secretly hate one of your friends?

They’re not my friends if I hate them.

Which friend knows everything about you?

Cole. He’s a spirit. It helps him, I think, to understand when people are hurting. Which begs the question, how does he know if he can help? Perhaps it has to do with -

Asked by Fans

Are you literate? Have you been to school?

Literate? Yeah. School? No.

The eeriest prediction you made that later came true?

Um… I don’t remember. Must’ve been a really long time ago, mostly because I have a habit of sarcastically predicting something and sometimes it comes true *shrugs*

What is something you were embarrassingly late to realize?

Uh… I’m not sure? That cooking giant spider meat isn’t normal? I cook it so well, too… Sera stopped eating it when she realized what it was.

Do you have mental health or physical issues?

Mental health issues. *blinks at the sidestare getting received* What? I admit it. Everyone knows it.

What is your current main goal?

My current main goal is… to make this world a better place for everyone.

Choices

Drink or food?

Ooooh, food! Drink’s nice and all, but food is mostly delicious.

Cats or dogs?

Cats. ….puppies are cute, too.

Optimist or pessimist?

Pessimist? I think? Not sure.

Sassy or sarcastic?

Both!

Have You Ever

Been caught sneaking out?

No, but that’s because I’m also a bird shifter and nobody notices a random bird. Also, I leave notes.

Broken a bone?

Many, many times!

Received flowers?

….people give flowers?

Ghosted someone?

No? What does that even mean?

…oh. No.

Pretended to laugh at a joke you didn’t get?

No. If it’s not funny, it’s not funny.

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blackleatherjacketz · 7 years ago

Text

Big Boy Suit Chapter 4

Sonny Carisi x Amanda Rollins, Sonny Carisi x Original Male Character

Warnings: None

Sonny reluctantly comes out to Amanda about Mario

Sonny’s phone vibrated on the break room table as he finished the last of his pastrami sandwich. He glanced over as he wiped his hands on the flimsy napkin the deli had shoved into the paper bag.

“Mario? Who’s Mario?” Amanda asked, bending over to look at his lock screen. “Ooh, he’s a cutie…” she smiled as Sonny put a finger in the air and picked up the phone.

“Hey.” Sonny answered, glaring at Amanda to keep her voice down.

“How’s your day so far?” Sonny had no idea how a man’s voice could be so deep, yet so soft and soothing.

“Good, we’ve got a little lull between cases, so we’re trying to tie up some loose ends. How about you? Your day sailing by?” He leaned back in his chair, watching Amanda realize exactly who he was talking to.

“Yeah, it’s… not too bad; sold a couple of big pieces.” He paused and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to call and let you know that I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

Sonny’s cheeks blushed a pale pink as he bit his lip. “I can’t wait either.” He circled his finger around the top of his water bottle as he thought about tasting Mario again. “Hey, can I call you later? My boss is staring at me like she’s got something important to say.”

“Of course. You’re busy, I get it. Keep those streets safe for me, Sonny Boy.”

“Hey, you know I will. I’ll see you tonight.” He smiled and pulled the phone away from his ear.

“What?” He looked at Amanda, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I’ll see you tonight? Isn’t that the guy you interrogated last month?” Amanda chewed on her lip, looking her partner up and down.

“He wasn’t connected to the case, it’s not a big deal.” Sonny put his hands up, palms facing forward.

“No?” She sat on the table, pointing at his phone. “What if there’s a break in the case later, and it turns out he was involved, huh?” She took in a deep breath and shook her head. “What are you doing with that guy, anyways?”

“Nothing.” He stood up, feeling the room close in around him.

“Nothing? You’ve got his picture saved to your phone, that isn’t nothing.” She followed him with her eyes as he began to pace.

“We just go out for drinks every now and again, you know… talk about Italian stuff.” God, he wasn’t convincing her at all. He wasn’t even convincing himself. Italian stuff? What did that even mean?

“Oh come on, Sonny, he’s grooming you!” Amanda grabbed her soda off the table and pulled the tab open.

“Grooming me?” Sonny crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the cabinet.

“Do you think anything that guy does is an accident? Do you think he just happened to take a liking to you because of your charming personality?” The heat inside of her reddened her chest.

“Forget it, Rollins, okay? Me being a cop has nothing to do with it.”

“Nothing to do with it? Are you sure? You don’t think he wants an Italian cop from Staten Island to look the other way while he launders his money? You don’t think….” She took in a breath and swallowed hard.

“I’m just looking out for you, Sonny. I’m your partner…” She hopped off the table and started towards him.

“Oh, now that I’m seeing someone, you want to be my partner?” He threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

“You’re seeing him?” Her pupils went pinpoint, the blue in her eyes freezing to an almost clear white.

He didn’t want to tell her this way. He didn’t want to tell her at all. Not yet, anyways. He wasn’t one hundred percent sure he even knew what he was doing with Mario.

“I’m not…” He let out a heavy sigh and looked her over. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, if I’m being completely honest.”

She stood there in silence, her face softening. It seemed like an hour had passed before she contemplated the evidence presented to her.

“So, are you gay now?” She started drinking her soda.

“I don’t know… I mean… I’m still attracted to women, but...” How could he explain this to her? He could barely wrap his mind around it himself, and it sounded so odd coming out of his mouth. “I just know that I like both men and women.”

He didn’t like this at all. He felt backed up against the wall, cornered, caged. Was it hot in here? Did she turn up the thermostat when she came into the room? It was definitely hot in here.

Why did he have to explain himself to her? Did she ever explain her heterosexuality to him? Or why Jessie’s father wasn’t in the picture even though he knew about her? Did he ever ask anything of her in return for his friendship?

“Did you sleep with Barba?” Her pale eyebrows rose into her hairline as she chugged her soda, well aware of the repercussions of her question.

Sonny pursed his lips. “Come on, Amanda, I’m being serious.”

“I know!” She smiled, hitting him in the shoulder. “I am too! You two were always staring, I wasn’t sure if you were giving it to each other on the weekends and pretending to hate each other at work.”

“Barba was just a mentor… and a reluctant one at that. I doubt he’d ever give me a second glance.” He crossed his arms again.

Her pupils relaxed, expanding back to their normal size. “Look, Sonny… I don’t care if you’re bisexual, gay, or asexual…”

“Asexual?” Sonny’s brows furrowed.

“Never mind.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “I just don’t want you to get hurt, or compromised. You’re still a cop, and this Mario guy could be bad news.”

“He’s not.” Sonny smiled as she squeezed his arm. “I know what it looks like, but…”

“Do you? Because I’ve been in that kind of trouble, and it’s the most isolating feeling in the world.” She sighed and turned around, leaning up against the cabinet with him. She hoped he didn’t have to go through what she did, that he wasn’t already caught between the wrong kind of people and his duty to serve the city of New York.

“I’ll be sure to get out if that’s the case.” He pushed himself up off the cabinet and turned to her, planting a kiss on her forehead.

She smiled, worry and despair shining through upturned lips. “I hope you can.”

Tags: @sonnshineandrainbows @skittle479 @stunningstasis @bullet-prooflove @ritacalhouns @hardcore-flower @acutecupidity @hot-cheeto-nevada

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi fic #sonny Carisi fan fiction #peter scanavino #sonny carisi x oc #sonny carisi x omc #Amanda Rollins #sonny carisi x amanda rollins #bixesual #coming out #law and order: svu #SVU fanfiction

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sweetnestor · 8 years ago

Text

Stone Cold | october.

university au + platonic + romantic + angst, teamiplier + jack

sequel to: Story of Another Us | also on ao3 | previous chapter

Bella’s song choice: Crybaby by Melanie Martinez

“Why is it so hard to find something decent?” exclaimed my friend, Aria Mercer. Well, I wouldn’t exactly call her a ‘friend.’ More like, ‘I know you well enough to go dress shopping with you, but not enough to tell you my deepest secret.’

We had been going to different clothing stores for a majority of the afternoon. Typically, I couldn’t stay out too long due to sensory overload and panic attacks, but I figured I could pop a Xanax I had secretly stashed away a few months prior. I didn’t like having to take medication on a constant basis, only when I really needed it.

Aria and I were both going to homecoming, and we were lacking in the fancy dress department. One thing we had in common besides the facts that we were both Mexican and from the same home town, was that we were terrible at shopping for clothes. Usually, our other friend (or ‘former classmate’ for me), Sophie Jensen, would accompany us to things like this, but she sat this one out. I knew exactly why, and I didn’t really miss her.

“I know,” I replied, mindlessly shifting through the racks. “I hate too many patterns. Too many sequins, too many colors! Where’s all the black?”

“Ah, you feel me,” Aria said. “I just need a little black dress and I’m good to go.”

“Ooh, speaking of…” I spotted an ashy black-grey color in the rack and grabbed it. I pulled out a black halter top dress with a simple rhinestone pattern at the waist. “¿Que opinas?”

Aria’s eyes looked up and down at the article of clothing. “If you don’t get that dress, I will.”

I smiled and then went to try it on. I had managed to talk Jack into an all black attire. It was the only color I was comfortable in (apart from my hair; black and faded pink ombre) and he felt like it would hint at what was going on on his channel.

The dress went down to my knees, and the skirt was nice and flowy when I twirled. It had enough neck space to where I could pair it with a choker. I definitely wasn’t going to find a better dress solely because I was stubborn and I wanted to get home as soon as possible.

Once I got out of the dressing room, I found Aria coming out of one of the stalls. She was wearing a short, tight, black dress with long lace sleeves. Now, I actually had to stop and stare for a second because damn.

“What do you think?” she asked, practically calling me out on my gaping.

“I-It’s nice,” I said in what I thought was a casual way. “It’ll knock ‘em dead.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up, but she quickly went timid. “I mean… I lowkey want to grab someone’s attention. Kinda wanna tease them, y’know?”

My heart started to race. Oh god, where was this going?

“C-Can I ask who?” It came out before I could control it.

“Just my ex,” Aria said, sighing. “It’s kinda stupid because like, it’s been like almost a year since we broke up and I also haven’t seen him in months.”

I was mostly relieved, but slightly disappointed.

“Well… have you talked to him lately?” This felt a little personal all of a sudden. I didn’t realize I was on this level with Aria. Then again, I did check her out without even thinking about it.

“No, that’s why it seems dumb,” she explained. “And he’s only going to be here for the weekend, anyway.” Her shoulders slumped as she went back into the stall.

“Pues… compralo de todos modos,” I told her. “Se te mira bien. Do it for yourself. If your ex notices, then good. If he doesn’t, then you’ll still look good, and he’ll be missing out!” And honestly, if I was tipsy and confident at homecoming, I would probably end up being the one taking her home.

She came out of the stall in her regular clothes, dress in hand, and a smile on her face. “You’re right. I’m gonna do it.”

When I was back home, looking at my dress option, I wondered. If Aria was trying to capture her ex’s attention, could I do the same? Could I try to grab Mark’s attention? Show him how hot I am and how I’m not his anymore.

I nearly laughed at that thought. Me, Bella Santiago, trying to grab attention? Even worse, trying to get attention from the person who didn’t love me anymore? How unrealistic could I be?

This really was high school. I hated it. Even as an adult, you could still get hung up over your ex and still pine after them. However, if you’re like me, you’ll go through extreme lengths to avoid your ex. Dropping out of YTU was one of those lengths. Taking a hiatus from social media was another. Avoiding homecoming at all costs would be another length, but I made a promise to Jack.

Needless to say, this was going to be difficult. I had to map out the YTU courtyard and plot out escape routes in case I was too close to Mark. I had to find out what kind of drinks would be served so I could forget the crowds of people surrounding me. I had to know who was going to be there so I could figure out who to avoid. It was irrational and insane, but I had to plan everything out.

I had to tell all of this to Jack so he could help me rationalize it, but the month was hectic for him. He was making videos left and right, focusing on the “Antisepticeye” hype. He had much to do with Robin over Skype, which meant that he was spending nights on campus. That also meant he wasn’t here to make sure I ate or slept or actually lived.

I was okay with it. I was okay with eating half a granola bar for breakfast and the other half for dinner. I was practically used to sleeping less than three hours a night, only to sleep through the rest of the following day after taking Jack to school. I didn’t want to bother him with my personal problems, especially while he was so busy. Don’t get me wrong, I liked having him here and it felt good to have a roommate again, I just couldn’t burden him.

In the meantime, I was pacing around my apartment. I had my sad playlist on blast, but I wasn’t crying or lying on the floor. I kept singing and pacing, and then when that wasn’t enough, I went to my keyboard. I attempted to play Stone Cold but 1) I hadn’t played it since I filmed it for my channel and 2) the lyrics were too damn real for me to sing out loud. “I was your amber but now she’s your shade of gold.” Ouch.

Before I knew it, I was walking to the bathroom. Not my en suite bathroom, but Jack’s. I stood at the doorway and stared at the floor. My fingers ran over my sweater sleeve, then over my upper thighs. As I remembered what happened here three months prior, I was almost relieved that the scars weren’t on obvious places, apart from the ones on my wrists. It was easier to hide this from Jack. I didn’t have the heart to tell him what I had done.

I stepped inside and sat down on the floor, bringing my knees to my chest. My breathing was strangely steady, given that I was sitting on what could have been my deathbed.

Who would have been the one to find me, had my neighbor not heard me fall and then call 911? Would it have been that neighbor? Would it have been Mark when he had returned the key to my apartment? How would my audience have found out? Would there have been a funeral? No one would have shown up, except maybe Jack.

I couldn’t leave him. Sure, Jack had plenty of other friends, but I felt guilty having to leave him. I couldn’t tell him that I tried to kill myself. Mark hadn’t told him either, which I was semi-thankful for. What would Jack say if he knew?

He’s the only person who was still in my life. That was both sad and comforting. He was my friend, but how long would it be before he grew tired of me? There had to be a point where he couldn’t handle my depressed ass anymore. Surely he was only my friend because I didn’t have any other person in my life.

The only way I knew how to distract myself from these thoughts was through makeup. Better yet, I went back to my room and set up my camera and lights. Then I grabbed various makeup products from my bathroom. It was October, so what was the only seasonally appropriate thing to film?

“Hey it’s Bella. Today, I’m going to try to do some sort of Halloween makeup,” I explained. “Um, I’m not sure what the fuck I’m gonna do… Maybe something simple like… Harley Quinn.” As soon as I said it, that’s what I wanted to do. “Yeah, that’ll work. Let’s do it!”

Since I hadn’t prepared ahead of time, I improvised with face makeup. Normally I would put a lot of thought into every product prior to filming, but I was trying to create a distraction for myself, and my mind was too foggy to think about anything else.

I used a light concealer in the place of foundation, I didn’t really bother with contouring or highlight. I used glitter shadows for my eyes, which made red and blue glitter fly all over the place.

“Go nuts with Halloween looks, guys,” I said as I dragged the colors past my eyes. “I’m using glittery eye shadow because I’m a slut for glitter. Put your own spin on things. That’s the beauty of makeup.”

At one point I was just getting messy. It was almost obvious that I was being reluctant. Therefore, I felt the need to explain myself.

“I know it seems like I’m jumping the bandwagon,” I said, “but to be honest, I’m not feeling one hundred percent today. I mean, I probably haven’t felt one hundred percent in a while. There’s various reasons behind it… it’s just one of those moods, y’know? Anyway, today was particularly shitty, and this was the first thing that came to me to distract myself. I just sat down and filmed without even thinking about it. Like, I know when I watch this back, I’m gonna think of better alternatives to the products I’m using and things I could have said better, but… Oh well.”

One thing I was somewhat known for was ranting while doing my makeup. I’ve talked about LGBT+ rights, bisexual pride, and plenty of other things while maintaining a sharp wing. For some reason, it was very shocking to the Internet (and by that I mean, mostly men) that I, a makeup artist, was so educated on things going on in the world. I suppose that was because plenty of beauty gurus didn’t speak of things like that on their channels, and most people expected a review/demo of the latest beauty products instead of a lecture on why stereotypes are absolutely terrible.

“You know what,” I said in thought, “let’s talk about that. Let’s talk about those moods. For me personally, it feels more like a mindset than a mood at the moment. I don’t know. I don’t want anyone to worry though - I’m still seeing my therapist, and my friend Jack moved in with me for the semester. I’m not alone, and this is probably just a bad day or something. I’ve been told that talking it out would be helpful, so I’m just telling you guys that I don’t-slash-didn’t feel like being a person today.”

I sighed and put down my blush. Then I grabbed my dipbrow and angled brush and began to fill in my eyebrows.

“Like, I wish I had advice to give,” I continued. “I feel like I’m stuck… Um, okay, I guess talking it out is good. Yes, yeah, that’s a good idea. Anything you got on your chest, let it out in the comments. There’s always gonna be someone there to talk to you. Whatever we’ve got going on in our lives, we’ll get through it together.”

I finished off the look with a bright red liquid lipstick that I then smudged with the back of my hand. Then I put my long hair in two high ponytails, and that’s when I noticed how much my roots were showing.

“Could’ve done a wig,” I said, tightening the tails. “But my hair has some color in it already. And I made this video completely unprepared. And, yes I’m aware I need to dye my hair again. Oh well.”

After posting that tutorial, I was practically spammed with ideas for more costumes and well wishes from my followers. I even got some Twitter DM’s from other vloggers, which was shocking to say the least. Why me?

“Hey! Wishing you all the best! You’re a strong person, and you’re loved by many!” -Pamela Horton

“Hiiii, just letting you know I saw your Harley Quinn tutorial and that I think you’re so brave and strong for sharing your emotions and your story with everyone! I’d love to sit down and chat someday!” -Suzy Berhow

“Hey, I deal with anxiety a lot too, I know where you’re coming from! I think you’re really amazing and strong, and I’d love to talk or even collab with you one day!” -Kathleen Fuentes

And even more from other people I secretly looked up to. It was funny that a few months prior, I published a video talking about my coming out process and my anxiety disorder, but my impromptu Harley Quinn tutorial is the one that got a lot of attention. I didn’t really know how to feel about it.

Besides that, I felt inspired and distracted by the amount of Halloween requests. I got superheroes, video game characters, and classic costumes. There was only one, however, that stuck with me, and it was a partner costume. I wanted to do this right, so I had to make several online orders, all rushed delivery. I also had to make emergency trips to Sephora and Ulta, but in the end, we had everything together.

“Hey, it’s Bella!” I greeted to my camera. “Today, I have my friend Jack here, and we’re going to turn into the brother and sister from Melanie Martinez’s ‘Dollhouse’ music video! We’ll be going over hair, makeup, and costumes. And, uh, I’ll link where we got everything in the description.”

“We,” Jack repeated, sounding amused.

I rolled my eyes and smiled. “Where I got everything. Anyway, let’s get started!”

“I’m excited,” Jack said as I gathered the first few items.

“I’m gonna take off your eyebrows.”

“Oh…”

I looked at him, amused by his reaction. I was already feeling confident about this video.

Using a gluestick, some foundation, and some powder, I managed to cover up a majority of Jack’s eyebrows. He was amazed at the result, and he also laughed at how funny he looked in the viewfinder.

“Oh wait,” I said in realization. “You have a beard! You’re supposed to look like a porcelain doll!”

“I can be a doll with a beard!” he argued.

We shared a look for a few seconds before I rolled my eyes and continued with my work. I applied a very pale, full coverage foundation to make it look smooth and flawless. Then I drew on his new eyebrows with a pencil, much thinner and more doll-like. That alone made Jack look like a completely different person.

“Who even are you?” I wondered. “What have I done?”

“So this is what I look like with normal eyebrows,” Jack said.

I continued on with his face, contouring his face and applying blush. It was coming together nicely.

“Have you ever listened to Melanie Martinez?” I asked him after a while.

“Yeah, you showed my ‘Crybaby,’” he replied. “The whole album, not just the song.”

“Which song is your favorite?”

“Hmm…” Jack went silent for a second before singing out, “It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want to!”

“Oh my god, same! That song is my life! So is ‘Crybaby!’ And ‘Dollhouse!’ And ‘Sippy Cup!’”

“The whole album is your life.”

I finished up with his face, and then things got a little difficult. See, Jack has sensitive eyes, and he wasn’t used to the pains of makeup. It took a good ten minutes to apply white eyeliner to his waterline. Adding false lashes was even harder because he kept blinking and squeezing his eyes shut. After getting them properly glued on, I styled his hair. A side part and some gel put the whole look together.

“Okay, so wait until I’m done with my makeup, and then we’ll put on the costumes,” I told him once I was finished.

My look was a bit more complicated. It was a cut crease eye look with a whole lot of glitter. I had to draw my lips a certain way, and add freckles to my face. Then I had to put my hair into tight curls and add a ridiculously large white bow on top.

The costumes were the icing on the cake. For Jack, he had a white button up, black suspenders, a black bowtie, and black dress pants and shoes. I wore a pink sailor dress, knee high socks, and black and white oxford shoes.

Then I set up the camera and lights facing a wall in the living room so I could get full body shots. Jack stood against the wall, hands in his pockets.

“Keep your face blank,” I told him. “Channel your inner angsty teen.”

He pretty much scowled. I made the same face when it came to my solo shots. Then we stood next to each other, hoping that we looked cute, but creepy.

“We look so fucking cool,” Jack said after a while. “I can’t believe you knew how to do all this. Actually, I can, ‘cause you’re Bella.”

I chuckled, but I did appreciate his words. I couldn’t ever leave him.

_______

next chapter

#jacksepticeye x oc #jacksepticeye x reader #crankgameplays x oc #ethan nestor x reader #K ONE MORE THEN THE BLU BOI SHOWS UP OK #sc fic #sweetheart writes #just me and your shadow and all of my q'd posts

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