#because i wasn't in school when i was supposed to do work experience and now it's too late for me to do it

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for correcting my niblings without my brother's input?

I had a massive falling out with my family when I was a teenager. I was into goth/edgy/horror culture and true crime before it was accepted by the mainstream, plus my parents were older when they had us and we lived on a farm. They needed my brother and me to keep the farm going, and I decided to pursue college instead. At some point after this they sold/lost their farm, but I do not know when, which fueled their resentment. At their request I did not speak to them until 2021, when my brother found me on Facebook to tell me my parents both died of covid and we held a Zoom funeral. After that he moved several states over to be closer to me so we could work on reconciliation and forgiving me for the farm incident.

So now I (45f) babysit his (44m) two youngest children (10m, 8f) for free, and have been since 2021. Initially he had full custody as his ex wife did not have a job or any job experience when they divorced (before we reconciled) but she now has a full time job so they share custody currently, although she is in our home state, so they decided the kids should go to school there still and spend holidays and summers with him. I am currently an art professor at a local university and for summer semester I only have morning classes and he works afternoons, so it works out.

Last week, his youngest asked me; "OP, how come you lie so much?" Her brother tried to shush her but I asked for clarification. Her brother told her she wasn't supposed to tell me, but she did anyway, and then he also chimed in to confirm. Turns out, whenever I told his kids about any vacations to other countries I took, he said I was making it up to sound important. When I told them I went to medical school, he said I was lying and was a glorified art teacher and only went to community college. I have a serious boyfriend who I have mentioned, although I do not spend time with him while babysitting per the mother's request not to have any adult with her children before meeting them and giving the okay, and so my brother insists I made him up.

I was very hurt, and so I showed them pictures, diplomas, videos, etc proving I was not lying. It is true I got into a community college near our home town on an art scholarship and an FHA grant, but I was able to skip generals due to advanced courses I was taking in high school. I quickly got interested in the medical field and was able to transfer to a medical school on several scholarships and obviously loans. I became a pediatric oncologist and was happy with that until my later thirties. I had kept art as a hobby but eventually realized I wanted to do more with it. I retired from pediatric oncology and then became an art professor five years ago. When I was a doctor, I met my current boyfriend (46m) who is a trauma surgeon. Starting in my late twenties, until covid, I was able to travel throughout the US and even to many foreign countries, sometimes for work, sometimes for vacation. There was no way for him to know this as we were not in contact, but I was very hurt that instead of believing me, he has been telling his kids I'm a liar for the past two years. So yes I did show them the photos and videos specifically because I was hurt.

The following day my brother called me and shouted at me, angry I had deliberately contradicted him. He was angry enough he was shouting at me. He has been dragging this on through text for the past few days. His ex wife also contacted me, asking for my version of events, as apparently their children called her crying about the situation. I told her exactly what I said here. He called me not an hour later screaming. Unbeknownst to me, she has been trying to get full custody of the children and he's convinced that this situation will get his kids taken from him, something he has a fear of due to the fact he has two adult children from a previous marriage who went no contact when they both turned 18. He insists that his ex wife turned them against him, and now he is terrified it will happen again. I was not aware of this until recently, nor did I think this would cause an issue with his custody. It has been very awkward babysitting his kids, as they have been very quiet since this whole thing happened. I don't have kids myself, nor have I been divorced, so I don't understand parenting or divorce etiquette, but I am still very hurt and even angry with him for calling me a liar to his children. Before I make any further decisions regarding an apology, I wanted to get advice as to whether I am the asshole for not bringing it up with him before showing his kids evidence that I did, in fact, do those things, and if so, how I can rectify this appropriately.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[yuri-is-online]

Fyuuture Kid AU is actually my favorite au of yours; I just think it's cute! How's floyd Yutu? I feel like there would be a thin line between "You're cool ig" and "You and shrimp are a little... close. Stop it." But once he knows that's his kid? Yeah all bets are of. Sorry Azul; he actually CANT go to work today he's too busy being a FATHER and a HUSBAND (these single fucks can cry about it)

No because this is exactly what I see happening and just the image of Floyd being like "nah I can't hang out spouse needs my help with the kid. Oh you wouldn't get it because YOU GOT NO BITCHES" he's just so silly I love him so much (つ╥﹏╥)つ

notes: they/them used for Yuu, this is part of the fyuuture kid au, Floyd's part can be found here, and the explanation for the au can be found here. You can find even more stuff for it on my masterlist under the series section.

Yutu wasn't really prepared for the first people he saw to be his parents. He knew he was going to have to see them eventually, and he did a lot of preparing mentally for seeing Yuu again but his dad? His father who he has heard so many stories about, the person he admires second only to you?

"And who's this little guppy?" The whites of Floyd's eyes widen as he zeros in on him, Yutu's senses force him to drop into a defensive stance and get in between the danger and Yuu. He's being circled by a larger, more dangerous predator. Every nerve ending in his body is screaming he is in danger, that Yuu's in danger, but he feels happy. He knows what his father's voice sounds like now.

"I ain't a guppy." The points of his teeth flash, but Floyd isn't amused by Yutu's claim.

"You are what I say you are, small fry."

Floyd! Yutu is very extroverted. He enjoys talking to people and had a lot of friends before and after being isekaid. If Yuu or one of his friends was more introverted he took a great deal of pride in doing most of the talking for them. He likes being helpful, or at least he says he does. If you've seen those videos of morays who act like puppies around divers they've known for years, that's sort of how Yutu acts. He's a big puppy who pretends not to know his own strength. Unless your his parent, he fears no man, but Yuu's wrath? That scares him.

He's similar to Floyd in school performance, he doesn't like to pay attention so he doesn't always do well. He didn't have a choice about paying attention to magic classes though, among all the different versions of Yutu, Floyd! Yutu might be one of the most cracked when it comes to combat magic. If you were to ask him about it, he'd say he sees his skill as another way of being helpful, but that prey drive is no joke he does like a good fight. Just not when that fight is against his dad...

He has always loved the water, whether he was swimming or out playing in the rain he always felt most at home in the water. In your world he was on his school's swim team, and while Yutu gets why he isn't allowed to be on NRC's he is still a bit salty about it. On the one hand he gets to actually live in the water now. On the other he sort of needs to find a hobby.

Maybe he could focus more on cooking? Or fishing? Or would that just be hunting under the sea...

The oceans of Twisted Wonderland were never safe, but in the time that Yutu arrived in they had become borderline unlivable due to blot pollution. Yutu really loved being in Octavinelle for allowing him to experience a little slice of what the Coral Sea was supposed to have been like. The version of the dorm he was placed in didn't have the lounge anymore, so he is very curious about Azul's business.

Papa (Floyd) Leech isn't very impressed. On the one hand he thinks it is kind of funny watching the shrimplet run around campus following Yuu like he's convinced they're going to disappear. Floyd feels like that sometimes too, it makes him want to drown you in his embrace and keep you here forever but he tries to ignore those feelings most of the time.

On the other hand knowing he can't just drop by Ramshackle and have you all to himself anymore makes it really hard to ignore them. Shrimplet doesn't even have the sense to be afraid of him, Floyd swears he gets excited when he threatens to give him a squeeze. And what's worse is you are really protective of him! Sure you're protective of Baby Seal too, but he's got enough sense to piss off when Floyd glares at him. He does leave when Floyd threatens to fight him, but not because he's scared. He looked sad actually, which Floyd clocks and brings back to Jade and Azul.

You asked another question about what happened to the boys in the bad future, and I want to save most of my thoughts related to what happened to Floyd for that answer, but Jade was still alive when Yutu got isekaid and he was able to meet him. They had a really good relationship, so when Jade comes sniffing around for information, Yutu is able to dodge his questions pretty easily. Future! Jade actually used his signature spell on him before he traveled back in time just to fuck with his past self. He did make his nephew promise to tell him if the one use rule applied to this case. Partially for science, partially because he knew that it would give his younger self the chance to keep the information to himself.

And keep it to himself he does- sort of. He makes sure Yutu knows he knows, but he never explicitly says anything to him. No what he wants to do is distract Yutu so Floyd can be a sulky coward in peace. That he does make clear to Yutu, he would like his brother to have more than one kid for him to be a bad influence on and he needs him to actually make a move on Yuu for that to happen.

I am not 100% on how the reveal on how Floyd learns about what's happening and who Yutu is, but once he does he is very serious about it. He wants to know what Yutu thought about him, why he knows more about Jade then his dear old dad, and what happened to Yuu to make him so protective. Wasn't he there at all? He'd never abandon his mate or his son... little shrimplet knows that, right?

Well he's just going to have to make sure he does know that. And everyone else too, "these single fucks can cry about it" indeed. Yutu is getting dragged to the Atlantica Memorial Museum so they can swim and talk about Azul's overblot, and how cute his parent was for standing up to him. He still wants to spend time alone with Yuu sometimes, but he gets why Yutu is afraid of letting them out of his sight now. He would feel the same way. If Floyd can manage it he wants to take him back home too (not to introduce him to the grandparents since that would just raise questions), since Yutu never got to go there.

Floyd would be such a good dad. An embarrassing one too, you know he teases Yutu, roughhouses with him, and openly flirts with Yuu in front of him. He's really looking forward to getting to be embarrassingly in love with Yuu in the future, and no silly "end of the world" thing is going to stop him.

#<3 asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech x yuu #future kid au

[atimeofyourlife]

A love written in the stars

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt: Valentine's Day | rated: t | wc: 850 Steve always had bad experiences with Valentine's Day. Eddie makes him change his mind.

Steve had always hated Valentine's Day. Ever since he was a little kid. Because his early- only- experiences with it was an attempt to buy another's love. His father would always go overboard, showering his mother with attention and love and expensive gifts. Buying her love and loyalty for another year before going back to his mistresses by the end of the week. So by the time he was old enough to understand Valentine's Day, he already had a strong distaste for it.

Once he was old enough to start 'dating' it all fell on him. From when he was twelve, if he was even vaguely involved with a girl he was expected to get her a card and flowers or chocolates. Even when there was nothing more between them than holding hands at lunch and maybe a kiss on the cheek. He'd be lucky to get a scribbled note in return.

Once he was in high school and actually interested in dating and girls, Valentine's Day started to feel very transactional. He would put in cards and flowers and dates with expensive gifts, and he would get affection and maybe sex in return. But he knew deep down if he didn't go all out with it, they wouldn't be interested. Most of the girls around him wanted an experience they could brag about, not anything with commitment.

With Nancy it felt different. He knew she wouldn't want anything too big and out there. So he had a card and a single rose for her at school, with a candle lit dinner that he'd made that evening, with a full bunch of roses. A sweet date without any expectations for the evening. She'd got him a card and some chocolates in return. The date seemed to go well, but as the evening went on, Nancy started to pull away, the grief of losing Barb eating at her from the inside, making her feel guilty for doing something that Barb would never get to do. So the evening ended early with him comforting her and then dropping her home early. He knew it wasn't her fault, that she was suffering and struggling with her trauma, and he didn't blame her for the evening not going the way he'd planned it. But, when he got home to see the half eaten dinner that he'd worked so hard on, he couldn't help feeling that there was something inherently bad about Valentine's Day. It felt like it was almost cursed for him.

The years after Nancy didn't get any better. He tried to stay away from the spending a lot of money style of Valentine's plans, and focused more on the romantic, meaningful style dates. But once his dates realized he wasn't going to be showering them with expensive gifts, they lost interest. Often making excuses to leave before the date had run it's natural course. It made him want to just give up on Valentine's Day.

But then Eddie happened. Neither of them mentioned any plans for Valentine's Day. Steve was thinking of treating it just like any other day. Get up, go to work, come home, eat dinner together, have sex, then fall asleep. And to start with, Eddie seemed to have the same idea. The day started normal, a lazy morning make out session before they both had to hurry to be ready to leave on time for work.

When Steve got home, the table was scattered with folded paper stars. He didn't know what to make of it. He was so caught up in it, he didn't notice Eddie coming up behind him until his eyes were covered.

"You weren't supposed to be home just yet. No peeking." Eddie said, steering Steve into the bedroom and pushing him down onto the bed. "Now stay here until I call you."

Steve didn't get a chance to reply before Eddie had left the room again.

He wasn't alone for long before Eddie came back to him. "It's ready now."

Steve followed Eddie back to the kitchen. Plates already on the table with what looked like take out from their favorite restaurant. The room lit only by the star shaped lights that had been hung all over the kitchen.

"Ed's, I-" Steve didn't know what to say. He just wasn't used to a partner making an effort for Valentine's Day.

"Happy Valentine's Day, baby. I wanted us to eat under the stars, but it's too cold to eat outside, so this is the next best thing." "I. I love it." Steve choked out, unsure what else to say.

"And each one of these stars," Eddie picked one of the paper stars up, holding it between his thumb and finger, "is to remind you how much I love you. I know you don't have great experiences with Valentine's Day. But every time you feel like you deserved the way all those girls treated you. Open one of the stars. Each one has a message inside, reminding you that you are so loved."

Steve couldn't help the tears that were welling up. "I love you."

the paper stars are these origami wishing stars:

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddieholidaydrabbles #atimeofyourwrites #writers block and burnout have been kicking my ass recently so I am super surprised I managed to do this

[mins-fins]

I WISH YOU WOULD (P.WB)

SUMMARY . . . there's so much more he could've done, so much he could've said. he hates what a stupid mistake he made, and how ashamed he was. what does scrutiny matter if he couldn't even get his feelings out in the first place?

PAIRING . . . park wonbin x male!reader

GENRE . . . angst

WARNINGS . . . internalized homophobia, homophobia in general

WORD COUNT . . . 0.9k

NOTES . . . HAPPY FRIDAY!!! 1989 tv comes out today and i wish you would has always been my favorite song on 1989 so um this is what spawned because of it 👍 i'll be back in half an hour im gonna go watch that scary robot movie lol‼️

. . . lomls @partiallyderived and @jinkiseason asked to be tagged (they wanna make me cry so bad thats so crazy 🤣) (im listening to cherry bomb)

"i love you".

if wonbin could go back, trust he would.

there's something disappointing about falling in love with your fellow trainee, your fellow trainee who is also your best friend, your fellow trainee who is also a boy. he wishes he could rewrite time and not convince his mom to change his class at school, because then he would never have met him.

and now that sounds downright ridiculous, it can't possibly be that bad can it? i mean— falling in love with your best friend as a whole is an entire kind of situation that happens in books and usually has a happy ending. what's wrong with his best friend?

nothing, there's nothing wrong with him.

it's wonbin that's wrong.

having conflicting feelings is normal, obviously, everyone experiences it when they have a crush, but wonbin didn't want to have feelings for his best friend, wonbin didn't want to have a crush on a boy.

y/n was probably one of the best people he's ever met. he's kind, and understanding, and beautiful, and humorous and pretty much attractive to anyone with two pairs of eyes, he's the perfect boyfriend material, he's just perfect.

and maybe that's what felt so wrong about having feelings for his best friend, intimidation.

well, wonbin liked to lie to himself.

yeah, that's the reason your afraid of having feelings for your best friend, your "intimidated" by his perfection, not because your scared of what others would think, other trainees, management, your parents, the world, that's not the reason your afraid of having feelings for him.

wonbin had never really spent a lot of time thinking about it, and he hates how he can practically hear the responses from people the moment he realizes his feelings for y/n.

they're staring at him like he's disgusting.

and what's worse than having people judge you? judge you for something you yourself can't control?

it's what keeps him up at night, those worries used to be planted at the back of his mind, because how would it even become something of relevance in his life? it'd never actually become real.

and maybe he's wrong for thinking such a way; after all, he can't just let others dictate who he loves or doesn't love.

but it's the thoughts in his mind slowly eating away at him that make him feel like everything's spiraling out of control. he can't date y/n, in a company like sm, in a country like korea, where if someone ever saw them together he'd be scrutinized and black-listed from the idol industry despite how hard he's worked?

it all makes him feel sick to his stomach.

how was he even supposed to tell y/n? he knew y/n wasn't homophobic but.. then there's the fear of rejection, he can't even imagine the kind of look y/n would give him if he found out. not out of disgust, but out of surprise, shock.

somehow, his mind thinks of every bad possibility as an outcome.

and just staring at y/n, sweet beautiful y/n who has no idea what he's fighting in his head, makes him fear confessing even more.

the two of them are already what i guess you'd dub "over affectionate". they do a lot of couple-y things like have matching rings, cook for each other, help run errands together, cuddle, steal each other's sweaters, cling onto each other like they were lifelines.

if everything stayed like that, wonbin would be just fine.

but of course, when has life ever been nice to him?

wonbin can't really stare at y/n without feeling like he wants to break down into tears and sob, they could be having the best time ever and he'll still have this overwhelming wave of sadness wash over him when he remembers his feelings.

it disappoints him in a way that it shouldn't..

and y/n clearly picks up on his sudden change. his flushed cheeks, mutters, and the way he seems to enjoy avoiding eye contact with him these days.

is his unusual clinginess noticeable?

wonbin usually isn't self conscious about things that like, but he guesses falling in love with your best friend makes you begin seeing things in a whole different light. he can't help but notice the uncomfortable shift in the air between him and y/n.

nothing has even been said.. so why is his anxiety through the roof?

wonbin finally snaps out of whatever dream he was having when he feels nails dig into his shoulder, squeeze them like his life depends on it. that's all it takes for wonbin to flinch, and he hates the way his reaction is so immediate, it's just more obvious that way.

y/n blinks, startled by the way he suddenly flinches. "you okay?" he inquires, and wonbin wants to kiss him so bad it infuriates him.

he shouldn't want to kiss him.

he feels like he's being pinched, and somehow he forces out a response; "yeah i'm just tired".

y/n doesn't buy his lie, it's evident in the way he stares at him for a specifically long time. "you should be fine".

wonbin pauses. "what?"

"your gonna debut, i wouldn't worry about it" y/n mutters, and he brings his knees to his chest as he rocks back and forth.

wonbin stares, hopefully not for too long, because then he'd just be looking too obvious and then y/n would ask more questions.

he really wants to punch himself at the moment.

he shouldn't feel so disgusted about being in love with y/n.

but he does.

#park wonbin #riize #riize wonbin #wonbin riize #park wonbin imagines #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize drabbles #park wonbin x reader #riize x reader #riize x male reader #𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!

[eydi-andrius]

His Point of View (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

A Sequel to Side Characters End Up Alone

a/n: I'm really sorry that it took a while but I feel much better now to write for angst. I hope this is worth the wait. Thank you lovelies! Again, I appreciate likes but comments and reblogs makes me feel well-loved.

cw/tw: pure angst, unrequited love, pov of the person who was confessed to, from love to despise, probably unexpected pov but I gotta write it, may upset some audience but I have been thinking of this as canon in this story

divider: @/cafekitsune

summary: Gojo knew how precious you are in his life. You are his greatest confidant, his other half and someone to whom he can never live without. However, no one ever told him how to handle a situation wherein his childhood best friend is truly madly deeply in love with him but he only sees her as his friend

The once cute white squared beads of letters that used to spell his name and yours, sewn together as proof of your long lasting friendship, was now across the floor of the dim parking lot.

He could barely see some of it. The place was illuminated by the yellow, almost dying light of the old light post. It buzzes and flickers as it does its best to give light. The dim colour makes his head hurt more. It was already throbbing when you went to pick him up, but after running after you, the feeling intensified, like splitting his head in half.

However, the blur in his eyes from the pain did not mask how worn out those beads were. He can see the first letter of your name, rolled near his shoe. He bent down to pick it up and raised it, to see clearly on the only source of light. It looks old, yes, but it is well-kept, polished even. As if someone had smoothened it for years…..because she cares and truly treasures this childish gift he gave to her once upon a time.

Gojo closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Long ago, when you confessed to him, he didn't know what to do. There were only two of you behind the school, you were fidgeting, scared and a pale mess, as you shared your heart out to him. Confessing the supposed to be beautiful truth, but at that moment, can either create something new or break something perfect, that you both had established together for a long time.

Surprised, unprepared and confused, all he did was stare at you, mouth agape. His world stopped, not expecting that you feel that way towards him. How…No one ever told him what to do at this moment. He felt trapped and his mind was swirling, trying to think of the best words to reply, the best course of action to do when your childhood best friend confesses to you. He was overloading and for a long time was just wide-eyed staring at you.

Probably, when you realised he wasn't going to reply, you felt embarrassed and humiliated so you chose to run away from him. During that time, Gojo found that his voice was working as he called out to your small frame, slowly vanishing from view.

You two did not talk about it until after three days. After he had a conversation with Geto. He helped him realise his feelings, for he thinks Geto was really wise for his age. And he is wise and provided good advice. He made Gojo feel confident enough to share his true feelings to you and that was him loving you as his precious friend, nothing more, nothing less.

Gojo wished that at that time he realises that Geto was just the same age as him, and no amount of good advice will come from a person whose life experience were in equal to him. If he knew right there and then, he would have let the friendship go and freed you of the burden of loving him. In that way, you would have been happy. In that way, you probably would have found someone to whom you deserve. Someone who will love you, more than you loved him.

But he was young, foolish and scared about the what ifs. What if you were the best he could ever have in this lifetime. If he lets you go, what if he will never have you anymore? He was scared to be alone. A selfish brat.

And so like a fool, when you pleadingly asked to keep the friendship, he agreed and continued acting the same.

It worked out for a while, until he started having feelings for other girls. Your eyes. God! Your eyes cannot lie at all, it screams your feelings like an open book being read out loud. Doe-eyes stares at him, openly hurting and in pain. It made him go crazy, insane even, affecting his relationships and becoming a toxic partner to some.

Of course, those weren't your fault. It was his. That was his relationship, not yours. However, there was a slitter in his gut, he used to ignore it, until its ugly head showed its face and he openly hated you for destroying his connections.

He was resentful and he admits, he does things to see you suffer. You did that to him!

Of course he knew he was wrong and stupid but he cannot stop the feeling of pure hatred every time beautiful things were ruined in his life because you existed.

You were his blessing but he made you his curse.

Opening his eyes, he stared at the dark sky. The moon was nowhere to be seen but a lone star twinkles beautifully, claiming the sky for itself. His blue orbs twinkled as he stared at it.

He cannot help but smile. It was a true smile. A smile of someone who was relieved. Of someone with a thorn in his chest for years, finally plucked out, relieved of the pain. Finally, your curse was over. The curse he implanted by his side was over.

If someone hears his thoughts tonight, they will probably hate him. But he doesn't care about them.

He was just so happy that now ... .now it was finally over.

He loves you, he cares about you but he cannot deal with your hurt anymore. None of your hurt was his fault. He was torturing himself for years and now, it was truly done.

Feeling the hot tear running down his face, he laughed. It was full of mirth. He is thankful, grateful even.

He wishes you the best as he clutches the only bead he picked up, close to his chest.

He treasures you but he also treasures the distance you now gave him. He cannot wait to finally start his life over.

#gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojo sensei #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fic #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen

[spxdxrpxnk]

matchies! : GWEN STACY / GHOST SPIDER

it was so, so dumb, but you and GWEN had matching tooth gaps.

( notes: this is written by a minor about an underage character, so nsfw/18+/'minors dni' blogs please do not interact with this post! thanks!

this is gonna be a little series about how you'd match with various characters!!! it was supposed to be one post, like a paragraph per character, but gwen went from a paragraph to 2k words, so... <3

warning: there's mention of blood and spit here! nothing too graphic or gross, just prepare yourself after "and.. well, he missed pretty badly."

also, i tried to experiment with colors because of the way gwen's universe works. if it's a headache for anyone, let me know and i'll change it to the way i normally color my writing! )

GWEN was the pink to your orange, the deep purple to your bright blue. you were pretty different, yet complimentary when placed next to each other.

she was more reserved at first, sticking to her best friend PETER and virtually no one else, while you were quite the social butterfly.

you never had a set group of friends, bouncing between friend groups with ease. you even befriended the quiet kids everyone else avoided- and you weren't even isolated for it. that's how much everyone loved you.

GWEN knew you because you were friends with PETER, who would mention you regularly when they'd recap all the good parts of the school day while walking home.

you stood up for him against the jerks who'd pick on him whenever she wasn't there to do it.

you had her respect, even though you apparently didn't even know her name.

you called her GWANDA.

regardless, she'd smile and wave back at you when you greeted her in the hallway in passing. "hey peter, hi gwanda!"

one morning, you both were the only ones in the hallway.

GWEN came to school late, having slept through the entirety of first period because she was exhausted from patrolling the entire night. you were sent out by a teacher to run an errand, just coming back from the main office.

"hi gwen!" you greeted with a smile when you noticed her, which gave her pause as she closed her locker and eyed you suspiciously.

"... hey."

"what's up? aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" you asked casually, as if you weren't being totally weird right now, with a curious tilt of your head that GWEN silently found only a little bit adorable.

"came late, i slept through my alarms."

you simply nodded, and she was silently thanking you for not questioning her further. she was terrible at lying on the spot.

"what about you?"

you held up a 3D-printed hall pass, from room 218. "had to bring the permission slips for a college trip to the office."

GWEN hummed softly in response, silence falling over the both of you. she felt awkward, so close yet slightly disconnected from you; the environment reflecting that. the hallway was a deep blue and you were a nice baby blue, whilst she was a dark purple that almost blended in.

"... soooo…" she drawled, glancing around before making awkward eye contact with you again. "we should.. probably get going…?"

you chuckled a little, "yeah, we should. where are you going right now? i'll walk you to class."

she was about to politely decline with a billion apologies, the way she always did when she got too awkward.

but then, she got that itching in the back of her skull that wouldn't go away whenever she was about to make a decision. the one that always made her do the exact opposite of what she was about to do.

"... sure. i'm in 208 right now." she said with a smile, before walking side by side with you up the staircase.

you attempted to bid her farewell and simply walk by, but GWEN grabbed the wrist of your free hand when you were right outside of her class. "why'd you call me gwen?"

you looked at her like she was a little bit stupid, "'cause.. that's your name...?"

"no- well, yeah, it is, but-" she huffed, a piece of her hair flying up. "you never call me gwen. it's always-"

"oh! yeah, i always call you gwanda. that's only a joke though, did peter never tell you?" you continued at the confused little shake of her head. "the one time you weren't here for phys ed, we had a substitute coach and she kept calling you gwanda for some reason. if it bothers you, i'll stop-"

"nono!" GWEN didn't know why she was so bothered by the thought of you not calling her by a stupid name. "it's okay, it's.. it's funny, i like when you call me it."

you just smiled at her- too sweetly, her heart was hammering in her chest. you slipped your wrist from her grasp, which she forgot she was holding, instead holding her hand with your own. she could feel the lockers around you both fading into a muted color she couldn't even care to notice, only focused on you and the pretty purple you both became.

"okay then, i'll call you gwanda for the rest of our lives."

woah.

she could only hope you didn't notice the blush on her face as she silently cursed you for saying something so.. so intimate, so casually.

"uh- yeah, yeah, cool. totally." she stammered, nodding as she returned your smile.

"later, gwanda."

you slipped your hand out of hers and waved before turning your back to her, making your way to the class you were supposed to be in.

"yeah, later…"

coincidentally, it happened in gym class, during the mandatory class soccer game.

the class was split into four teams. GWEN, you, and PETER were all on different ones.

GWEN's team wasn't playing at the moment, but yours and PETER's were so she was sitting on the sidelines and cheering for him. he actually had the ball for once!

he was clumsily dribbling it down the field toward you, goalie of the opposing team. and you, ever the try-hard, dove for the ball right as he went for a goal-scoring kick.

and.. well, he missed pretty badly.

you fell to your knees, clutching your mouth, while the ball pathetically rolled into the goal behind you.

your team, most of PETER's team, and even people from the sidelines got up and rushed to crowd around you two before GWEN could even register what just happened.

PETER, of course, was the first person to kneel down next to you, apologizing profusely while trying to get you to move your hands from your mouth to assess the damage. GWEN had to push, duck, and weave past her fellow students to get to you both, and she made it just in time to see you move your hand from your mouth.

it was covered in blood and your saliva, dripping onto the polished gym floor. PETER backed away a little, utterly horrified, not sure what to do.

a few tears, presumably from the pain, streaked down your cheeks as you blinked heavily.

GWEN had to give some people in the crowd her meanest glare when they started jeering at her friend for kicking the most beloved student in the school in the mouth.

"'m okay, guys-" you started, slightly pained but as optimistic as ever, but you and everyone else were a bit startled by the lisp in your speech that wasn't there before.

she tentatively kneeled down in front of you next to PETER with her hand firm on his shoulder to calm him down, trying to get a look into your mouth while you spoke to confirm her suspicions.

but you didn't have to speak again.

you toyed with something in your mouth before lifting your hand to spit into it- a tooth.

the gym exploded into angry reds and oranges so quickly, it almost gave GWEN a headache. the three of you stood out in various shades of blue and purple.

the gym teacher, who wasn't paying attention the entire time, only came to disperse the crowd when everyone started yelling at PETER for kicking you in the mouth and knocking your tooth out.

he was practically hyperventilating, so the teacher told him to go to the locker room and chill out, and make sure to grab some paper towel to get your blood and spit off the floor.

GWEN was told to walk you to the nurse, after leading you to the locker room as well.

you didn't seem all too bothered about your tooth being knocked out. you rinsed your mouth out in the locker room, cleaned yourself and your newly isolated tooth of blood, and were just admiring it while she walked next to you silently.

she didn't know what to say besides 'sorry my best friend knocked your tooth out' or 'sucks to suck', so she chose to keep quiet.

then, you gasped loud and clapped your hand on GWEN's shoulder harshly, making her flinch and turn to you, a frantic orange in direct contrast with your vibrant blue. "what's wrong, are you-"

"we match!"

it took her a second to register what you said, and when she did she just stared at you blankly, slowly fading into a usual purple that she was with you. "... huh?"

you smiled that million watt grin of yours, even though your lips were a little swollen, and GWEN noticed- it was one of your front teeth that was knocked out. she huffed, relieved that you weren't dying or something, before simply glancing at you, unimpressed.

"seriously?" was all she could ask. it wouldn't be the first or last time someone made fun of the gap between her two front teeth, but she couldn't really tell if you were doing that or if you were being genuine.

that is until you nodded enthusiastically.

"yeah! i mean, i don't think mine looks as cute as yours does," wow, okay, smooth. "but now we're matching!"

… okay, yeah, you were being serious. it was kind of endearing, if she was honest, and GWEN couldn't hold back the smile on her face.

"not really," she humored you. "since mine is natural."

you just sucked your teeth, the sound less sharp than it'd usually be, which got a laugh out of her.

"ooh, ooh- we should take a picture!"

"a picture? for what?"

"you know, to remember this day forever?"

"the day you got kicked in the mouth and your tooth was knocked out?" she questioned sarcastically, shaking her head fondly at your totally serious nod.

after a very intense mini staring contest, GWEN knew she lost when she brightened into a blue matching yours, making her roll her eyes as if she was being burdened by the childlike joy you brought her. "fine." she relented, grinning at your little cheer as she pulled out her phone.

she wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you close as if you'd been friends forever, and you leaned your head against hers like it was totally normal.

both of you smiled wide, showing your tooth gaps to the camera, and she had to hold down a laugh at the way you were holding your knocked out tooth in frame.

you said a very corny "cheeese!", and once the picture was taken, she couldn't stop herself from bursting out laughing at the lisp in your voice.

and you were definitely playing it up just to make her laugh, talking in a very exaggerated nerdy-lispy voice that had her giggling all the way to the nurse's office.

you eventually got the tooth put back in at the dentist, which you missed a few days of school for.

thankfully, PETER found you on social media and peer pressured encouraged GWEN to reach out to you after she kept asking random people she'd never speak to otherwise where you were.

double thankfully, you didn't question how she found your socials and were happy to give her your phone number.

she definitely lectured you about how irresponsible that was of you over text, but only after she finished debating you over why her naming your contact "gappy 2" ( she'd be "gappy 1" for you ) wouldn't make any sense if you won't have the gap anymore.

to end the debate, you told her to hold on a second and then sent her a selfie.

you were smiling as bright as ever, your missing tooth back in it's place. your lips weren't swollen and you weren't bloody and drooling. GWEN just admired you for a few minutes before she actually noticed the gap between your two front teeth.

a gap that wasn't there before one of them got knocked out.

gappy 1 💫: Woah, you actually have one now?

Gappy #2 💞: yea!

Gappy #2 💞: the dentist lady said they can't do much about it ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Gappy #2 💞: besides give me a retainer? which, hell no!

Gappy #2 💞: so we're officially twinning forever now 🫶

gappy 1 💫: Lol. You dodged a bullet, retainers suck

gappy 1 💫: It looks cute on you though :)

Gappy #2 💞: aww ty! but i could never outdo the doer <3

GWEN would admire the selfie you guys took that fateful day whenever she was missing you.

and then gaze longingly look at the one you took together the day you came back to school, showing your now actually matching tooth gaps.

your smiles were always so contagious, GWEN found herself matching your energy all the time. when you got hype and became a bright orange, she did too. when you chilled out after and faded into a comfy blue, so did she.

before you, GWEN never really smiled unless she was with loved ones or if someone told a joke. and when she did, it was close-lipped, since someone always managed to bring up her tooth gap and ruin her mood.

but she smiles so much more now, always with her teeth, and no comment can bring her down.

seeing you be just as radiant, if not more, with your gap-toothed smile encouraged her to smile the same way. even when you weren't around.

sometimes, when you're bored and lounging in her bedroom, you just flash her your teeth.

( like 😬 )

and she'd do the same back, not a word spoken.

neither of you have figured out what it means yet, and you probably never will.

but just seeing your tooth gap makes GWEN's heart thump a little faster, and reminds her of how much she loves you, so she thinks it doesn't matter.

#atsv x reader #spiderverse x reader #spider woman x reader #ghost spider x reader #spider gwen x reader #gwen stacy x reader #x reader #reader insert #my wriitng #god gave me the ability to obsess over fictional characters without considering the consequences

[kiragecko]

This is a post about why I'm currently considering myself to be nonbinary, but it's not a post about gender.

-

It’s about 90% of the elementary school girls wanting to sit on the grass and talk about boys, and me still not understanding why even now, in my mid 30s.

It’s about ‘girls books’ that were all about friendship drama and worrying about menstruating, and how these were framed as universal concerns. My only friends were a pair of male cousins and we mostly cared about how our Lego ninjas’ castle infiltration was going. (The options were limited in my small library in the mid-90s.)

It’s about the ‘wild’, ‘disobedient’, and 'hyper' kids in the books I grew up with being so much better behaved than me, even on my best day, that I’d puzzle over it for weeks. Maybe if my parents were stricter I would be able to follow instructions easier? Maybe I was one of the mean kids in those books? Why was nobody in books like me?

It’s about the revulsion I feel when I think about ‘romantic’ gestures. Remembering my mom getting flowers from someone at church, and my aunt getting upset when I laughed about how she wouldn’t like them. MY MOM IS ALLERGIC TO FLOWERS, but a person who had nothing to do with the situation got offended that I didn’t consider them a thoughtful and nice gift. It makes me feel nauseous thinking about how I’m ‘supposed’ to think things that I don’t want and can’t use are loving gifts, just because society decided they were.

It's about people wanting me to already know their social conventions, and feeling like they are doing SO MUCH WORK when they make allowances for my mistakes, but thinking that learning anything about how I like to communicate is asking far too much of them.

It's about trying to make friends as a teen, and all the guys getting upset or weird when it became clear that wasn't code for dating.

It's about makeup giving me rashes, and my hair being done up giving me headaches.

It’s about women in lingerie in ads, and how I wore a headscarf for a year in reaction to how that made me feel.

It's about learning biblical gender roles, and getting really excited about the idea of protection and love in return for submission. And then finding out I like the BDSM understanding of protection and submission a lot more than I like the church's. That the person I love doesn't have the skill to protect me in ways that make submission safe.

It’s about having noise and light sensitivities, but being expected to enjoy crowded weddings.

It’s about people acting disgusted when I get too loud. Or excited. Or happy. Or interested.

It's about 'body language experts' that ""explain"" what various gestures mean, and it's about that month when my husband believed them and told me I was wrong about what I felt.

It's about definitions of 'womanhood' and 'humanity' that contain things that exclude me. And learning how to be okay with being the exception this time. And eventually getting so used to being the exception that I can no longer connect to the concept at all.

It's about only reading fantasy, now, because an elf's experience isn't supposed to be relatable.

It’s about learning that ‘I actually wanted’ things I didn’t want, and I was ‘unreasonable’ when I said no, and I was being ‘too sensitive’ when things physically or emotionally hurt.

It’s about being ADHD and aroace and weird in far too many ways; in a culture that seems to consider that to be willful rebellion and disrespect.

-

I don’t know how to be a woman. I don’t know how to feel good about being a woman. I don't feel I can fulfill the roles and dynamics associated with femininity. I can't present myself in the expected ways, and I don't really want to. In isolation, 'woman' feels like an accurate description. But than I think of OTHER people considering me a woman, and having the right to define what that means, and I just can't.

I need a break from considering myself female, so I can figure out how to do it in a way that doesn’t break me.

I want to learn how to interact with other people in a way that are less exhausting and painful. Engage on my own terms, and disengage if those terms aren’t fulfilled. Protect my own boundaries with strangers and acquaintances - people I don’t expect to make allowances for me. Not by demanding things of them, but by only offering myself on certain terms.

I don't want to ask anything about anyone else. I'm tired of it being about them. I want to ask things of myself. Ask for respect, and care. Figure out what that would actually look like. I want to process and let go of my self-hatred and feelings of being 'designed wrong'.

I've heard the terms 'acegender' and 'neurogender'. They don't excite me, but I recognize that's part of what's going on. Having ADHD gets in the way of performing womanhood to the point that it becomes hard to separate them. And some much of femaleness is defined in relation to being a part of a heterosexual romantic couple. I've got the man, but that hasn't helped me decode the mysteries of romantic and sexual attraction. The baffling concept of men having some sort of allure that women lack, of being a different category.

But, like my marriage isn't about my lack of attraction (it's about the choice I made to love him, and the decade plus of commitment we've had to each other), being nonbinary isn't about my lack of understanding of and ability to perform womanhood. It's about choosing to love myself, and recognizing that I've internalized enough harmful beliefs that I can't healthily identify as female right now.

It's not about gender.

#nonbinary #gender stuff #neurodivergence #asexuality #acegender #neurogender #when you spent years thinking your desire for they/them pronouns was about not being female #and it turns out it's actually about wanting to opt out of stereotypes that were destroying you

[celaenaeiln]

this is a very unpopular opinion lol but i personally think they shouldn’t have made dick as bruce’s son. dc should have just resolved their problems with them being apart as much as they can in gotham & bludhaven respectively and then fix their dynamic slowly to become healthier and then make bruce & dick as brothers instead, bcs the crux of their problems was them being equals thus being brothers would have made their standing & dynamic more even & equals. (again tho this is unpopular opinion)

I completely agree!!

I don't think they should've made dick Bruce's son. Actually the son thing I guess is fine, but there's no need to emphasize it so much because it doesn't fit their dynamic.

Tale of The Teen Titans Issue #50

Dick's adoption, the way I think of it, is unnecessary.

Up until this point neither of them had even considered a father and son relationship. Their guardian and ward relationship only came up when Dick was in danger of being adopted away and Bruce starts begging and pleading about it.

Batman (1940) Issue #439

Dick says himself, "He could never be my father. I mean, I don't want another father."

Dick knew that Bruce loved him unconditionally and he was happy with that.

That's the second time when the circus wanted him but the first time, his blood relatives wanted to take Dick away from Bruce.

Batman (1940) Issue #20

"You can't take Dick away now! Not after all these years! He's like a son! I won't let you!"

Batman (1940) Issue #20

Alfred: "M'lord...I mean your honor...I've never seen Mr. Wayne deny the young lad anything! He fair worships the boy!"

(I think Alfred's still hasn't let the chips thing go.)

Bruce: "Dick is like my own son! I've even changed my own will so that in case of my death, Dick will get my entire fortune! Your honor, I...I love that boy! Please don't take him from me!"

Dick: "A fella couldn't want a better friend!"

Bruce's relationship with Dick is complicated ranging from son to partner to brother to everything in between. Why not add Mother in it too?!

But it wasn't like Bruce's relationship with Jason and I think that makes all the difference. By the time Jason came around, Bruce and the authors finally realized how to write a father-son relationship. Up until then, Dick was just everything for Bruce and since he was written that way, the authors let him stay that way.

The adoption scene and Dick asking why Bruce didn't adopt him...here's an anology. Suppose a kid goes to school and earns a A on every test and the teacher says "good job!" and they both move on. 10 years later another kid comes along and they get an A too. The teacher has now grown in experience and wants to facilitate growth, so they have now started giving every kid that earned an A a gold star sticker on their paper. This kid takes it home to show their older brother who had that same teacher 10 years ago and the brother comments, "Oh, when I went there, she didn't give out stickers!" But now make it about family.

That's what Dick and Bruce's adoption is. The adoption paper is the gold star. Was it needed? No. Does it make people feel better? Yes.

But I don't like this formally making Dick Bruce's son thing. Sure Dick feels better about it but it was pointless and actually takes away from what their relationship really is.

In the comics, Bruce's behavior toward Jason is more parental than his was to Dick. It was more of a "let me teach you" and "ok, so this is how I do it" with Bruce and Jason. It's a teaching moment of father to son guidance. Dick and Bruce's comics were more "this is what I think" and "I see what you're thinking and I'm going to add on to that" relationship. It was a we're both going to do about 50/50 of the work.

Also Jason came to Bruce at a time when Bruce was stable and knowledgable. Dick came to Bruce at a time when Bruce was literally falling apart. If he hadn't met Dick, he would've killed himself from how reckless he was being. Finding Dick, he saved himself too.

Canonically, Dick is described as a foil to Bruce - the light to Bruce's darkness. He acted patiently listened, worked, and understood Bruce. Bruce shared his emotional burden with Dick in a way he was afraid and careful not to do with the others.

He's still doing it.

Batman (2011) Issue #14

They're not acting like father and son, they're acting like partners.

"Oh, but the kids..."

"It's for the kids! Do this for me please."

Dick as Robin in his later years even screams at Bruce during an argument, "I'm not your son. I'm your partner."

This excessive parentification of Bruce and Dick's relationship, it's not how they function. DC somehow thinks that their loves needs definition. That it needs clear boundaries to show that Bruce loves Dick but the truth is, the devil's in the details and their relationship is riddled with them. You don't need to tell your best friend you love them, they just know. Both of you do. And DC thinks the only way to tell your best friend you love them is to tell them that which is not true.

That said, their problems only arose because Bruce was overly attached to Dick so I don't think he would've been able to let go without speaking to him. I mean, he did get captured (purposefully?) and expect Dick to just come save him just so they could start talking again during Jason's robin era and I don't know how they would fix their problems but I agree that they shouldn't be quarantined into a tiny, constrictive father and son box. They way they act around each and the demands both of them have of the other to act a certain way isn't how a father expects a son to be or a son expects a father to act. I'm not saying they aren't father and son, I just believe they're more complicated and involved than just that.

#dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #cl anon asks #thanks for the ask!

[libraford]

The good news is that he found a different job and next week is his last week and I only have to work with him 2 more times and only one of those times will I be alone.

Tech talk and rant below.

But in my opinion, we should have fired him earlier on because two weeks into the season he was unclear of what any of the equipment apart from the camera actually did.

The camera takes the picture.

The lights light the subject.

The computer matches the subject to the picture.

The transmitter connects the camera to the lights wirelessly, so that when you take the picture the lights flash automatically.

The sync cord connects the camera to the computer so that the image is displayed on the screen.

The skyport connects the lights to the computer so that they automatically adjust.

Its just all the electronics going through a circular systems check to make sure they are firing properly and matching it up against our white balance test. I know it sounds complicated, but its literally just a circle.

I understand that this can be complicated for someone who is used to 'click button, get picture.' But having the same problems over and over again because he doesn't understand the proper procedure and doesn't look at the checklist that he swears he never received even though I gave him my laminated copy and having to fix all of the problems that are literally because he didn't respect me enough to listen when I explained it to him cuts into the time that could be spent getting ready.

Now we are a month and a half in and on Tuesday he asked me what the skyport does.

If your skyport fails, you have to adjust your lights manually.

Therefore... skyport makes the computer talk to your lights.

And every time something fails, he says 'this would be so much easier without computers' and I'm like. Fine. Okay? Try to match 900 student names to photos without a computerized indexing system. Try getting the light to be consistent without a startup exposure test.

No sense of troubleshooting, which isn't very difficult. If something isn't right, restart the computer and try again. If you get a repeat of the problem, call Freddie from IT. But usually, a reboot fixes most problems.

But then he started breaking the rules, and in a very intentional way. Like at first it was 'oh I didn't know I wasn't supposed to show them the photo' even though we went over this in training. Then it was 'well, I'm not supposed to show you the photo but if you come back here while I'm adjusting my lights I can't stop you.'

At first it was 'hey, Jay, remember what Freddie said about the no-touch policy during training? I know you want to make the kids like you, but its very unprofessional to ask them for a high five, especially since these schools are very strict about their own no-touch policies and also did we not just go through a wholeass pandemic?'

And now students are complaining about him physically adjusting their posture with his hands.

Like... I don't mind bending the rules a little. But before you can bend the rules, you have to understand why the rules are there, so that when they are bent there is a good reason. The rule about showing photos is there to make workflow consistent. The no touch rule is for the safety of ourselves and the students.

But breaking the rules constantly just out of disrespect means that I can't bend them myself. I have to be a hardass. I hate being a hardass. But if I'm not a hardass and someone tells me that he's violating our no-touch policy, the company gets in deep trouble.

Not that he'll ever... ever follow my advice on the subject because as previously mentioned- he respects no one here. He has 15 years experience as a photographer and is too good for this place. Why would he listen to someone under 40 with three years experience dealing with schools?

His pictures aren't even very good. They're average.

Just two more jobs with him and then he's off to do something else and gods I hope he's better at that than he is a school photographer.

[thought--bubble]

She is Happy Now Part 4/5

Modern Aemond X (Ex Girlfriend Reader)

Warnings after the break

She is happy now Master List

Modern Aemond Master List

Full Master List

Banners by @arcielee

Aemond entered the throne room at the red keep wracked with nerves. His legs felt like jelly, and his heart rate was through the roof. The only people there so far are those in the wedding party. The guests are still making their way over. Aemond grabs a glass of wine and downs it.

"Aemond!" Aemond turns around to see the exasperated look of his mother. "What was wrong with you up there? Jiggling about! It was very distracting."

"Sorry mum"

He hates it when his mother looks at him with that look. The look of disappointment. A look that used to be reserved for Aegon once upon a time but now seems to be Aemonds gift from his mother.

"An affair with a professor!" Alicent is nearly screaming. "You were meant to go to school to learn philosophy! Not sexual education!"

She is pacing back and forth.

"Mum, it wasn't an affair it was a one-time thing " Aemond taps his fingers nervously on his knee.

"This is why you and that sweet girl are no longer together? So you could sleep with a woman my age? Have you completely lost all sense?"

Aemond swallows loudly but suddenly falls apart. "It was a mistake, Mum. I swear it. I had too much to drink. I wasn't thinking clearly. I ruined everything. I ruined my life, " he says between sobs

Alicent lets out a sigh. " You haven't ruined your life, Aemond. This was a bad move, that's for sure. The professor has been fired according to the correspondence from the school. It seems they want you to sign a non-disclosure agreement. Keeping this quiet and I would suggest you do. Since you plan on going into teaching yourself, this kind of relationship could really hurt your future. "

"I did ruin my life. She's gone" he says crying quietly now

Alicent stops pacing and looks at Aemond with a look of pity.

"Oh hunny" Alicent wraps her arm around him and kisses his shoulder. "Are you sure it's over? Have you spoken with her?"

He sniffles "no I haven't. She won't speak to me. Heleana said she is pretending she never knew me. She has blocked me on all platforms. Egg and Heleana both refuse to speak to her on my behalf. I can't get her to talk to me" he looks at his mother with utter heartbreak in his eyes.

"Aemond, sometimes we make mistakes and those mistakes. They break things. Sometimes, those things that are broken, they can't be fixed. We have to let them go. We have to learn to accept that they are broken beyond repair"

"I don't know how to live without her" he says his sobs getting louder

"You don't have to live without her. You just have to live with her in your heart. Just because something we cherish breaks, it doesn't take our memories, the joy or the love it just changes how we experience those things." She sighs deeply and runs her hand through the hair on the top of his head

"I know this seems so difficult right now, but you will always remember her, and one day, this won't hurt so much. Right now, it's like a broken leg. But that leg will heal, and maybe every once and a while it will ache when it's rains. But it will heal. And it will work just as it should." She hugged Aemond tightly.

"We were supposed to be forever. I promised her forever, " he says in a near whisper.

"Delusions of grandeur are common amongst young love Aemond. She doesn't have to forgive you. You do, however, need to forgive yourself. Don't make excuses or justifications, but allow yourself the peace of acceptance."

"Acceptance," he scoffs at the word. How could he ever accept it? He stands leaning against the far wall by the doors to the throne room, watching each guest as they enter.

Finally, he sees her enter, arm looped around that of her boyfriend. She doesn't seem to notice him. Keeping her head down.

He hates seeing her like this. She was so headstrong. Head always up laughing boisterously. Was this change because of him? Had he damaged her this much?

He stays skulking around the edges of the room, not taking his eye off of her but not coming close enough for her to see him. He wants to talk to her. No, he needs to talk to her, but how can he do that with her boyfriend stuck to her side like some sort of accessory. He finally sees his opening when Heleana starts taking pictures of them.

He moves towards them with quick, quiet steps coming up behind his sister much to her surprise.

"Sister, let me take a picture of you with your ..." he stuttered for a second unable to think of a word but settles on "friends"

"Yeah, ok, thanks, Aemond." Heleana hands him the phone, and internally, he pats himself on the back. He has found a way, albeit small. To interact with her.

He takes a few photos of the three of them, and then looks passed the phone, looking her directly in the eyes.

"Absolutely beautiful."As soon as the words leave his mouth, his eye goes wide. Of all the things he could have said to her the first time he gets to speak to her in years, it's this. He internally groans good eye shifting to her boyfriend, who is looking at him with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. The silence continues for a minute longer, and when aemond looks back at her, she is still looking at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her boyfriend squeezes her, whispers something in her ear, pointing across the room, and the two walk away slowly.

Once they are gone Aemond feels a slap to the back of his head.

"What in the 7 was that!" Heleana whisper screamed looking up at him.

"What?" Aemond asked feigning ignorance

"I told you, she is happy! Why would you say 'beautiful' " she mimics"like a creep and then stare down her boyfriend?" Heleana is waving her arms around madly in frustration.

"I was talking about the picture I took" he knew it was the lamest excuse ever and there was no way Heleana was going to buy it. But he had to try.

"UGHHH," Heleana pokes her finger into his chest. "Leave. Her. Alone." She continues poking into his chest "leave. Her. Alone!"

Aemond raises his hands in mock surrender. "Ok, ok"

He walks over to the main table where the wedding party is seated and takes his seat. He can't see her from here, so he closes his eye and waits for the speeches to begin. Ellyn sitting next to him taps his shoulder.

"Congratulations on graduating with high honors. That's an amazing achievement! Especially at that school"

He replies with a light "hmmm" while keeping his eye closed.

"I will not" Professor Rivers replies sharply

"I need you to do this!" Aemond replies desperate.

"And what do you think that would help pray tell?"

"She needs to know that you took advantage of me! That you sought me out drunk!"

"I did nothing of the sort," she scoffs.

"You cheated on your girlfriend. The sooner that sinks in and you take responsibility for it the better"

Aemond closes his eye and takes a deep breath "you ruined my life!"

She rolls her eyes and looks at him with indifference. "You had plenty of chances to tell me you had a girlfriend. All those times we flirted back and forth in class or in the halls. You were not drunk. You were stone cold sober. You never once said "hey this is inappropriate. I have a girlfriend." That was your choice. Tell me if she hadn't shown up and caught you. Would you feel so badly? Would you have told her? Would you have told me it was a mistake? Or would you have carried it on? Continued to sleep with me while sending love letters with false proclamations of loyalty to your darling love back home?"

Aemond clenched his jaw tight.

"Ahem" Allyn the professors TA stood in the professors doorway.

"Ummm. I'm here to collect the quizzes for grading professor"

She stares at him wide-eyed "yes of course"

The laughing spreading throughout the hall brings Aemond back. He sees that his mother is sitting down after having made her toast. He feels his nerves bubbling up. it will be his turn soon. He had prepared a short speech with more than Cassandra and Aegon in mind. After the run in with Heleana he knows he will be chastised further for it but, there are things he needs to say that he never got the chance to say and may never get the chance to say so he plans to utilize this opportunity.

Borros Baratheon stands up and hold out his glass "Aegon and Cassandra, I can't lie and say that I believed you two were a love match from the beginning" he laughs "I have such a high standard I never thought Aegon Targaryen could live up to, I am so very pleased you proved me wrong. You two have a love that reminds me of the love I shared with Cassandra's mother. One that is not based solely on romance but on friendship. You are not simply lovers but best friends. Confidantes, trusted advisors. You share inside jokes that most, myself included, could never hope to understand. A marriage built on a relationship like this is built to last, and I'm so grateful that my daughter found that in you, to Aegon and Cassandra! May your marriage be happy, fruitful, and stand the test of time!"

Sometimes, that's what Aemond felt like he missed the most. Yes, she was his High-school girlfriend she,up to that point, was also his best friend. The gaping hole that loss had created was immense.

Aemond wipes the palms of his hands on his slacks before grasping his glass of wine and standing up. He holds his glass out in front of him. He is trying to exude confidence but knows his facial expressions are betraying him.

"Aegon and Cassandra. A love like the two of you share is a rare and valuable thing. It is irreplaceable and changes you forever. It only takes a second to loose it. So I ask you both, whoever you make a decision, be it innocuous or extremely important , ask yourself how this will effect the other. If the answer is ever negatively, don't do it. No matter what it is. Most things can be replaced, but a love like this cannot, a love like this is palpable, tangible even, one only needs to stand in the presence of thebtwo of you together tobfeel how the air noticably changes that cannot be replaced, duplicated or imitated, and if it is lost, trust me when I say you can spend a lifetime in mourning. That is real and the value is incalculable Aegon and Cassandra" Aemond sees Heleana looking at him with a face that screams "Shut the fuck up!" He clears his throat and continues "I wish you a marriage filled with love and all the blessings that come with that, but the thing i wish you the most of is time. A long, long timen to spend together and in love. Cheers to Aegon and Cassandra"

Aemond takes a quick sip of his wine and gets back into his chair as quickly as possible. He looks back at Heleana, who looks like a dragon that would gladly burn him to death in this very moment.

He closes his good eye and leans back in his chair. The speeches continue going on around him, but he isn't listening. He feels like a small bit of weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He knows she heard that. She's in this room, and she finally heard him say he regrets it. He regrets losing her and that it was the biggest mistake of his life.

He continues to sit there eyes closed leaning back just listening to the sounds around him when he hears someone clearing their throat in front of him.

He opens his eye and is stunned to see her standing right in front of him eyes on him.

"Hey" he says. Heart beat fast and hands shaking.

Her eyes dart to the side and then back to him.

"Could I talk to you for a moment?"

A/N:: I am still deciding between one longer part or 2 smaller parts. After that, this story will be complete ❤️

Part 5

To be added to taglist click here

#aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #modern aemond angst #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond/ you #modern aemond fanfiction #ewan mitchell verse #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell #jess fics #my modern war criminal bf

[musings-of-a-rose]

I've been a Joel supporter since the game came out and after watching that episode, and especially now that I've become a mom since the game, I still stand firm in my choice to support what Joel did.

For those saying "But he lied to Ellie!" - yeah. He did. But you know who else did? The Fireflies. Marlene. She even had the balls to say to Joel "You're not giving her the choice because you know what she'd choose." Implying that she would choose to be operated on. But you know what? She didn't give Ellie a choice either. Marlene even said they sedated her and told her nothing so she wouldn't be afraid. That right there says Marlene doesn't know for sure that Ellie would choose self sacrifice, so she withheld that rather important piece of information from her.

Ellie is also 14 years old. This sort of decision is way too much to put on her shoulders, and I say this as a very mature 14 year old when I was that age.

"Ok, but this is the fate of the world!" Says who? What they didn't give you in the show was the letters/notes Joel finds in the hospital saying Ellie wasn't the first immune person that they've performed lethal surgery on to poke around in a brain. And you know what? None of it worked. Could Ellie have worked? Maybe. But it's a slim chance in hell it would and that just wasn't worth it to Joel.

You also can't vaccinate a fungal infection. It doesn't work that way, which is why doctors give people creams and hope for the best when they have fungal infections.

Also, this was ONE doctor with some nurses. A doctor and a scientist are not the same thing. Granted, a doctor would be better at figuring something out, but that wasn't his area of expertise. He'd need a whole team of experts to even hope to find a cure IF it was there. They also had no equipment, no mri's or cat scans, nothing. Yes, they were in a hospital but right before Joel enters the room, one of them asks "Do we have enough power?" They're not even sure they can power the room to perform the surgery - how ar they going to spend countless months and years on a supposed cure?

BUT let's overlook all of that and say by some miracle they find a cure. How are they going to mass produce said cure? They most likely don't have the resources for this as everything is shut down and 20 years old. And even if they did, how to mass distribute it? Marlene said the Fireflies would, but so many people distrust them so who's to say they'd accept it? Not to mention Joel, by himself, took out an entire building of them.

Marlene also had the audacity to say to Joel that she understands his plight because she was there when Ellie was born so she gets it. No, you don't. You took your friend's baby out of obligation and put her in an orphanage and straight into a FEDRA school/camp. Marlene came back when Ellie was bit, chained her up in a room for weeks, and kept performing experiments on her to see if she would turn. She didn't raise Ellie so she couldn't possibly have known that sort of connection.

In the end, Joel chose love because he loves Ellie like he loved his daughter. And if I were in his shoes, I 100% would've made the exact same decision.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#joel miller #i will defend his choice #I do welcome respectful discourse on this though #if you think he's wrong let me know why I'm curious #the last of us

[scarletsaphire]

Danny missed last gym class through no fault of his own, which is normally fine. It’s just that now they’re putting the self defense moves to work, and Danny’s been paired with Valerie. Great; guess he’ll be getting his ass kicked by her twice in one day.

--

@phicphight fic 3! This one is for @tourettesdog and @lovelyunknown! Prompts used are at the end.

"Mrs. Tetslaff. Mrs. Tetslaff please you don't have to do this," Danny begged.

"Shut it, Fenton," she said, not even sparing him a glance. "Partners are final, no swaps. Besides, being with Gray will do you some good. Maybe if she tosses you around enough, you'll put some effort forward in my class." She chuckled, before turning back to the rest of the class and bringing the whistle to her lips.

Danny made his way back to Sam and Tucker's side as she finished announcing the rest of the pairings. "As if I don't already get my ass handed to me by Val enough. Now I get to experience it in class too."

"If it makes you feel any better," Tucker replied. "I'm also going to get absolutely destroyed."

"Damn right you are," Sam nodded. The two of them had been made partners, probably because Mrs. Tetslaff knew that she wouldn't hold back. Tucker knew it too.

"That does make me feel a bit better," Danny admitted. "At least I won't be suffering alone."

"Okay everybody!" Mrs. Tetslaff's voice cut through their conversation. "Gather with your partners; I'll be coming around to monitor you all, but other than that, its a free for all. Use whatever moves you remember from our self defense class yesterday."

Danny nodded along with the rest of the class before making his way over to where Valerie was standing on the side of the gym. He held up his hand in a not quite wave as he approached, which Valerie returned.

"Hi."

"Hi."

This conversation was going just as well as he thought it would.

"Do you want to start on the offensive?" Valerie asked.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I can do that. Unless you want to go first?" Danny asked.

"I've been taking karate since I was five. I don't need the practice. You do," Valerie replied. "Besides, even if you do manage to land a good hit, I can probably handle it a lot better than you can, and I don't want you using a bruise to try and get out of this."

Danny hesitated. He could handle this just fine; he'd tussled with plenty of bigger threats before, even without his ghost powers. Hell, he tussled with Val every night, albeit with the aforementioned ghost powers, when the red-gray of her suit blended in with the regular gray clouds and night sky. He wasn't worried about getting hurt.

What he was worried about was the fact that he didn't remember a single thing from his last gym class. Dash had locked him in the locker right before, and then Johnny and Shadow showed up, and they were always time consuming to deal with. Even if dealing with them this time looked a whole lot more like buying them a milkshake.

Either way, by the time he'd managed to make it back to the school, the class had been almost completely over, and the only thing he managed to see was Sam suplexing Tucker onto the mat, which, according to Tucker, hadn't even been a move they were supposed to be practicing. This meant that Danny was yet again stuck in the predicament he was in every single time he had to do anything in this Ancient's forsaken class: how much could he actually, realistically do?

The answer was always a resounding not much. He could normally fake it pretty well, but when he didn't know what he was supposed to know? It became a whole hell of a lot harder.

"Actually..." Danny started slowly.

"You forgot, didn't you?" 

Danny rubbed at the back of his neck.

Valerie rolled her eyes, and the faintest hint of a smile played across her face. "I guess that means I'm going first."

"I guess so."

"Okay, I'm going to do this slowly, so try and pay attention." Valerie made her way directly in front of him. "Hold your hands up like this." Danny copied Valerie's pose, one very different than he'd seen her take during the night. Probably because she didn't have any guns. "You ready?"

Danny gave one nod. He’d barely finished moving his head before Valerie was lunging towards him, fists flying towards his face. It was a conscious effort to not turn intangible, which meant that he didn’t have the brainwidth to try and clock the hit, or dodge out of the way, or do anything that didn’t result in a fist to the face. 

It was good to know Valerie hit hard , even without her suit. 

Danny stumbled backwards, blinking stars out of his vision, hand coming up to his nose that he knew was bleeding. It wasn't broken, at least.

"Oh shit," he heard Valerie say, and in an instant she was by his side. "I did not mean to hit you that hard I swear."

Danny waved her off with his free hand. "Yeah, well, I'm the one who stood there like an idiot." He removed his hand from his face, looking down at it. Yeah, he was definitely bleeding. "I'll be fine."

He looked to her when Valerie didn't give an answer, and was surprised to see her staring down at his hand in shock. "Valerie?" he asked tentatively. Still no answer. "It was an accident, you didn't mean to-"

He was cut off by Valerie grabbing his wrist and dragging him towards the doors of the gym. "Wh- Val! What the hell?" he asked.

"We need to have a talk. Now." Her voice was steely, a tone he couldn't remember her ever using with him. At least, not with human him. It was enough to shut up any future protests, and he allowed himself to be dragged along obediently.

They kept going even after they were out in the hallway, down a few doors until they got to a storage closet that Danny knew was mostly empty. Valerie pulled the door open and shoved him inside, slamming the door behind her.

Danny had absolutely no idea what was happening. 

"I think you have some explaining to do," Valerie said with her arms crossed and her foot tapping a hasty rhythm on the tiled floors.

"I'd love to, I really would, but I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Danny asked, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"Oh? Then how are you gonna explain that?" She titled her head towards Danny's bloody hand.

"You punched me in the face!" Danny answered. "Nose bleeds happen when people get punched in the face!"

By her sharp inhale, it was clear that wasn't the answer Valerie was looking for. "It's green Danny."

"Oh." Danny brought his hand back around in front of him, squinting at the now dried blood stain. It looked more like a red-gray than a green-gray to him, but then again, there wasn't much difference between shades of gray. "I didn't know that."

"How do you not know that your blood is green?"

"Frankly, I didn't know my blood was red until I was like. Eight years old. So this isn't the first time this has happened!"

Valerie took a deep breath and brought her hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose. Uh-oh. Danny's natural defense was getting on her nerves. That never ended well. "Ok, your idiocy aside, why the hell is your blood green?"

"That. Is a very good question!" 

Danny ran through every possible excuse he could think of. Some of them might've worked if it was literally anybody else who had figured this out, but Valerie wasn't just some random student who would believe "Fenton Weirdness" as a catch all excuse. She had experience with ghosts, and ectoplasm, and more importantly, was also exposed to the same technology Danny would normally blame this on.

"Would you believe me if I said I snorted ectoplasm before class?"

"Not when you say it like that."

"Well, crap."

--

TourettesDog - Danny is red-green colorblind. This never caused him much trouble before the accident, but now, well… It would have been nice to know beforehand that his blood was the wrong color. LovelyUnknown - Danny's identity is found out in the funniest way possible.

#danny phantom #danny phantom fanfiction #danny fenton #valerie gray #phic phight #identity reveal #team human #phic phight team human

[evanesdust]

🔽 story below the cut 🔽

Stiles checked himself in the mirror for what was probably the fifth time in as many minutes. He thought he looked okay with his hair falling on the right side of messy and his clothes perfectly pressed. At least his hands no longer shook as they had nearly two weeks ago when he'd gone on his first date with Derek.

Considering it had been his first date ever, it wasn't exactly a surprise. Though part of him knew he shouldn't have been nervous at all. It hadn't exactly been a traditional first date, after all. Most people didn't have to hire someone as if it were a job. To pick them up and take them to a nice restaurant.

But Stiles had.

It was embarrassing being twenty-one and never having gone on a date. It hadn't really been intentional. Stiles had just never really been interested in anyone during high school, and apparently, no one had been interested in him either. At least not enough to ask him out, anyway.

And then, in college, Stiles had been so focused on school that a love life was out of the question.

But now…

Now Stiles wanted that experience. And at first, he hadn't exactly been sure what he should do. Asking his friends or coworkers how to ask someone out would have been embarrassing, and it wasn't as if anyone was knocking down his door for a date. So for shits and giggles—and after a drink or five—he went to the one place that always answered his questions.

Google.

After wading through dating site after dating site, he'd stumbled upon Derek Hale's website for a rental boyfriend. Well, it was a little more complex than that. Still, a date was one of the experiences Derek offered, and Stiles jumped on the opportunity without a second thought.

That had been a couple of weeks ago, and their date had gone…well, it had been a little awkward if Stiles were being completely honest. He'd been a mess of nerves all day, only getting worse the closer it got for Derek to pick him up. He almost canceled a couple of times. Almost messaged that he would just meet Derek at the restaurant instead to give himself much-needed extra time, but then Derek was there, knocking on his front door.

He'd looked so good in dark jeans and a henley. And flowers! The man had brought him flowers, which made Stiles swoon. He hadn't known what to expect when Derek showed up, but his smile had been bright, putting Stiles at ease a little. Especially since Derek hadn't acted like it was a job. It was as if they were truly on a first date.

So, Stiles supposed it kind of made sense that the night had been awkward then—at least from what he'd heard of first dates.

They'd sat through a stilted dinner where Derek, who was apparently an incredibly patient person, had pretty much led the conversation as he tried to calm Stiles's nerves. It hadn't worked. Stiles had been too much in his head because—Christ!—Derek was gorgeous. And nice. And sweet. And charming. And so fucking far out of Stiles's league.

By the time the date was over and Derek had dropped him off, Stiles had been sure that Derek would ask him to forget his website ever existed. To never contact him again, but he hadn't.

In fact, Derek had surprised Stiles by cupping his cheek and whispering, 'I hope I'll see you again,' which was the only reason Stiles went to his website a few days later and set up another date.

And another.

And another after that.

All of which had gone infinitely better. Of course, they had. Derek was a great guy, and once Stiles got over all his nerves, it was as if they'd known each other their whole lives. Naturally, Stiles developed a bit of a crush. Just a small one. It wasn't as if he'd started planning their wedding or anything.

(Spring, in the preserve, surrounded by friends and family.)

God, this was a disaster.

But before Stiles could think any more about how this whole thing would only end in heartbreak, the familiar purr of Derek's Camaro pulled him out of his thoughts. With one last deep breath, Stiles patted his pockets, ensuring he had his phone, wallet, and keys. He did, so he headed out the front door, locking up behind him.

"Hey," he said, sliding into the Camaro and sinking into the now familiar leather seats. Seriously, Stiles loved Derek's car. Sorry, Roscoe. Not that Stiles didn't love his Jeep, but the Camaro was all sleek and sexy. Soft leather, cool to the touch. For now, at least. In a few weeks, when the temperatures warmed, it would definitely be a different story. Not that Stiles would have to worry about that because there was no way he could afford these dates for much longer.

But anyway!

His mind flitted back, trying to figure out what he had been thinking about before his thoughts devolved into leather and heat.

Oh yes! The Camaro and how it was Derek's, and fuck. Now all Stiles could think about was Derek bending him over the hood and—

No.

Stiles blew out a breath because he absolutely could not let his mind wander into NSFW territory. Derek was a werewolf. An alpha at that, with a keen sense of smell. Though Stiles knew it wouldn't be the first time Derek was subjected to the scent of his arousal, Derek had always been gentlemanly enough not to mention it. Still, it would be impolite to make Derek's car smell like that for however long it took to dissipate.

So Stiles rolled his window down a bit, hoping whatever scents were coming off him would drift away with the wind.

Derek gave him a soft smile, reaching over and squeezing his hand. Always so affectionate, but it was what Stiles had paid for, so he tried not to read into it. Derek made it difficult, though. No one was that good an actor, so sometimes—sometimes—Stiles couldn't help but wonder if maybe Derek liked him, too.

"I hope you like what I have planned," Derek said, removing his hand to shift the car into reverse.

Stiles instantly missed the warmth. "I'm sure I will."

So far, there hadn't been a single date he didn't enjoy—including the first one. Of course, those had all been dinners and this was a lunch date. Derek had talked him into it when he called after Stiles had booked his time. Derek almost seemed a little shy when he asked if they could do something a little different.

"Do I get any hints?" Stiles asked, taking Derek's hand when he reached over again.

Derek shook his head, but having grown up in Beacon Hills, Stiles recognized when Derek left the main road and turned off down a familiar trail. One that led to lookout point, a popular hangout spot when Stiles was in high school. Nowadays, kids had other interests and probably didn't know about the spot or its view of the town below.

"I haven't been up here in a few years," Stiles said when Derek parked. The area was a bit more overgrown, and the path leading up to the peak was in dire need of maintenance, but he still recognized it.

Derek gave him a smile before climbing out of the Camaro, practically sprinting around the hood to open the passenger door. Stiles took his hand, letting Derek help him out of the car, and he couldn't help but smile at the gesture. It was something Derek did every time they went out.

It really was too bad this was all fake because Derek was the best boyfriend. Not that Stiles had anything to compare it to.

"I thought you might like it," Derek told him as he pushed the seat forward and reached into the back. Half a second later, he popped back up with a picnic basket and blanket. "I come up here every once in a while."

The excitement in his voice made Stiles feel slightly less exposed, as if Derek actually liked him and was sharing something special. For the moment, Stiles could pretend this was an actual date, a real one, and he could bask in the sunshine and the view and Derek's company.

"It's quiet," Derek continued, taking Stiles's hand and leading him up the path to the cliff. "Beautiful."

Stiles stared out over the town, nodding in agreement. It really was beautiful up here, and he almost wished it were later so they could watch the sun dip below the horizon. He could imagine the moon shining above them and the stars twinkling while they sat with their legs dangling off the cliff, the distant lights in town blinking on.

But the afternoon sun beat down on them where they settled on a patch of grass. Well, on the blanket Derek brought.

"So, what made you decide on a picnic?" Stiles asked, smiling as he met Derek's gaze.

Derek set the basket between them, opening it and pulling out two sandwiches, a bag of chips, a container of fresh fruit, and two sodas. Dr. Pepper. It was Stiles's favorite.

"Well, the dates we've been going on have been great, don't get me wrong." Derek handed a sandwich and soda can to Stiles. "But there's more to dating than just going to dinner. I figure, next time—if you want, that is—we could check out a museum or the observatory. We could also go to the beach."

Stiles's heart flipped in his chest despite knowing Derek was just securing future dates with a client, but damn. He wanted that. He wanted to walk through the museum, fingers tangled with Derek's. Wanted Derek pressed behind him at the observatory, pointing up to the sky as he called out the different constellations. Wanted to stroll the beach, arms locked. With Derek.

"That sounds good. And this all looks great," Stiles said, eyes locked on the food in front of him. A feeling of contentment mixed with apprehension squeezed his chest.

This was all fake. Stiles just needed to keep reminding himself of that.

"Thanks." Derek wore a shy smile as he unwrapped his sandwich. "It's not much, but I hope you like it."

Like it?

Stiles loved it. He took one bite of the sandwich and moaned. Actually, to call it a sandwich was a travesty. The French bread was buttery and sweet. Warm like it was freshly baked. Whatever sauce Derek used (vinegar or oil or something) was perfection with the lunch meat, three different kinds from what Stiles could tell. He'd have to ask later after he was done devouring everything. There was even lettuce and red onions, and Stiles hated red onions.

"S'good," he mumbled around a mouthful. He'd be embarrassed if he weren't so busy stuffing his mouth with deliciousness. And Derek even got kettle chips, another of Stiles's favorites.

Derek's soft laughter filled the air. "Glad you like it."

Stiles swallowed and flashed a grin in Derek's direction. His words almost sounded relieved, as if he'd been worried, though there was no reason to. Stiles took a few more bites of his sandwich, popped some chips into his mouth, then chugged the soda.

The last thing he wanted was to blurt out something dumb. Like telling Derek that he had a crush on him. Because that would lead to word vomit about Derek being perfect and how Stiles wanted to have his babies. Which wasn't even a possibility considering he was a guy and lacked certain parts, but he'd been reading omegaverse stories lately, and fuck, he wished those kinds of omegas were real because he was sure he'd be one.

He could be Derek's omega. He'd go into heat and Derek would help him through it. And, oh yeah, throw in an accidental pregnancy because it was fiction. Fictional romance for that guaranteed happy ending.

Fuck.

Sweeping pieces of grass from the blanket, Stiles stared at the ground and barely resisted the urge to smack his forehead. Barely. Honestly, the only reason he didn't was because Derek would probably think he was certifiable. God, how long had he been daydreaming? Because when Stiles snuck a peek at Derek, he was looking at him with concern, eyebrows drawn in and forehead creased.

"Ah," Stiles brushed his hair out of his eyes, laughing nervously. "Sorry about that. Kind of got lost in my head there for a second."

The corners of Derek's mouth twitched. He placed a hand on Stiles's arm, the warmth of it instantly calming him. "That's alright. I think we all get a little lost in our thoughts sometimes."

Stiles nodded, smiling softly because Derek never made him feel weird or stupid for his awkwardness like others had in the past. He never gave Stiles funny looks or scoffed at him. Never said anything negative. In fact, he always seemed to know the right thing to say, putting Stiles at ease.

Derek pulled his hand away, returning to his sandwich, and Stiles managed to finish his food, taking his time as they talked and laughed, the conversation growing more and more natural as it always did. Work, friends, family, and ordinary things that came up in everyday life. But thankfully, Derek hadn't asked what Stiles had been thinking about. That was something Stiles would never be able to explain.

Minutes turned into hours as they talked, and as the sun started to dip below the horizon, Derek suggested they stay for the sunset. Stiles eagerly agreed despite the allotted time for their date being over because fucking duh. More time with Derek. Totally worth whatever added cost Derek charged him.

After packing up, they settled on the cliffside, feet brushing the edge where it dropped off since Derek wouldn't let him get any closer. The sky glowed bright orange and pale pink, and they were both hypnotized, their eyes glued to the spectacle before them.

Stiles exhaled, the corners of his lips tugging up, feeling content and peaceful. He glanced at Derek, who was wearing the same smile, his gaze on the horizon. Stiles's stomach fluttered as if a million butterflies had taken flight within. This was something he could get used to. Him and Derek. He wanted to stay here, sitting side by side for hours, watching the days end and night take over. But reality pulled him from his musings, reminding him that this was Derek's job.

So he looked back over the town, the lights already twinkling against the backdrop of the ever-darkening sky, a few stars already peeking out. He took in a deep breath, just savoring the moment.

"It's so beautiful," he said, unable to contain the awe.

Derek nodded, turning toward him, and Stiles couldn't help but meet his gaze.

"Yeah…beautiful," Derek whispered.

Stiles's heart slammed in his chest when Derek's eyes moved to his lips, and he subconsciously licked them. He felt like a struck match, with everything bursting into flames inside him. Heat rushed through his veins, and Stiles swore electricity sparked between them.

Derek's eyes shifted back to his, darkening with something that made Stiles forget how to breathe. It was as if a million volts were running through his body.

What was happening here?

The night air seemed to hum with anticipation, and Stiles knew Derek could feel it, too, with the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He knew Derek could feel the current between them, and it was getting strongerstrongerstronger.

Everything was. Derek's gaze, the smoldering heat, the thunder of their heartbeats.

It was too much.

Stiles cleared his throat, his palms slick with sweat.

"We should head back," he said, breaking the trance.

Derek blinked, nodding, though Stiles swore he could sense disappointment emanating from him. But Derek didn't say a word as they got up, gathered the basket and blanket, and headed back to the Camaro.

A twenty-minute car ride had never felt so long. The drive was quiet, the silence between them uncomfortable and awkward in a way Stiles hadn't experienced before. Not even their first date. He hated it. But when they got back to Stiles's house, Derek pulled into the driveway and parked as he always did, getting out to walk Stiles to his door.

Stiles's hands shook as he took his keys from his pocket to unlock his front door. "I—"

His words died as he glanced back at Derek and was met by those dark, burning eyes. He swallowed thickly, his entire body tense as Derek just looked at him. Then without warning, Derek surged forward, cupping his face and kissing him.

Derek. Was. Kissing. Him.

Stiles gasped in surprise, his eyes closing on instinct. He melted into Derek, into the warmth and electricity coursing through his veins and singing in his ears. He could barely believe this was happening. His heart raced and his breath came out in pants.

Derek pulled away, gazing down at him.

Stiles's mind whirled, trying to process what had happened. Derek had never kissed him before. It wasn't an option for their dates as far as he knew, and Stiles knew he should speak, but Derek beat him to it.

"I couldn't help myself," Derek breathed, brushing his knuckles down the side of Stiles's face. "I've been wanting to do that since our first date."

Stiles could only lick his lips, chest heaving because holy fuck. That kiss. His first kiss. And for that, he regretted not saying anything because Derek gave him a brief nod, then spun around and jogged back to his Camaro, leaving Stiles standing there wide-eyed and stunned.

It took a few moments for Stiles to regain his composure, and when he did, he realized Derek was still sitting in the driveway. So he gave a half-wave, like an idiot, but Derek only arched a brow in a way that told him he wasn't leaving until Stiles was safely inside his house.

As much as Stiles wanted to roll his eyes because he wasn't a child, he unlocked his door and went inside. Before he closed the door, though, he made it a point to shoo Derek away, which earned him a grin.

Things couldn't be too bad if Derek grinned, right?

Stiles closed the door and locked it behind him, a dopey smile spreading across his face as he leaned against the cool wood grain. He could still feel Derek's lips ghosting over his, still feel the fire surging through his veins, and couldn't stop thinking about the look on Derek's face. The intensity in his eyes; it made his stomach flip.

Something was different. Very different.

And so, once again, Stiles had to wonder…could Derek like him, too?

Sunlight filtered through his bedroom curtains as Stiles jolted awake with a sharp inhale. He lowered his arms from their position over his head and dragged his palms slowly down his face, willing his brain to function.

His head hurt. His chest hurt. Stiles couldn't breathe through his nose, and he was warm. Too warm. His entire body ached as he rolled to his side and hacked up a lung. An inhumane noise escaped him as he tried to sit up, followed by another coughing fit. Stiles had no idea who the fuck got him sick, but he hoped they stepped on a fucking Lego.

The doorbell chimed, and Stiles groaned.

That must have been what had woken him, but who could it be? His dad had already stopped by that morning, plus he had an afternoon shift at the station, so it wouldn't be him. He knew it couldn't be Lydia because she wouldn't chance catching whatever ailment he had. Though she might have sent something to help him get better—chicken noodle soup or medicine.

That was more likely, honestly. And Stiles couldn't let the delivery person or the groceries just sit there, so he dragged himself out of bed. Literally. He had damn near no strength, so the only thing that kept him upright was using the bedposts and then the dresser for support. The walls were also great at making sure he didn't fall flat on his face as he padded down the hall, considering his legs were so damn weak.

Seriously, he hated being sick.

A cough? Fine, he could deal with that. A runny nose? Yeah, that sucked, but oh well. Tissues were his best friend then. But the all-over body aches because he couldn't stop shivering? The figurative elephant sitting on his chest when he tried to breathe? No thanks. That was a whole lot of fuck that shit.

By the time Stiles got to the door, he really, truly hoped it was a delivery from Lydia and not the mailman or something. If this was one of those door-to-door people trying to sell him on lawn maintenance, he might commit murder.

He'd fail, considering he couldn't move an inch without leaning against something, but it was the thought that counted.

"Stiles?"

His name was muffled through the door, but Stiles would recognize that voice anywhere.

Derek.

Shit. What time was it? They were supposed to go out again today, but Stiles had canceled since he was sick. Right? Shit, he hoped he'd actually canceled and didn't do something like forget to send the message. Honestly, that would be his fucking luck right now.

"Stiles?" Derek said again, sounding worried.

Which made sense because, honestly, it had probably been a good ten minutes since Stiles crawled out of bed and shuffled like a zombie to the door. And now he was kind of just standing there, staring at said door now, while he wondered what the hell he was supposed to be doing.

Oh, right. Opening the door.

God, why was that so hard right now?

Stiles flipped the lock and turned the knob, but holy crap, it took all his strength to open the door. The effort made him double over, coughing again.

Warmth enveloped him as he was lifted, and Stiles instinctively curled into it. Against Derek's chest. Stiles barely had a chance to appreciate being in Derek's arms before he was carefully set down on the couch.

He closed his eyes, groaning as he shivered. Fuck, it was freezing. All he wanted was to curl back up into Derek's warmth, but then Derek covered him with the blanket that had been thrown over the armrest. So Stiles curled in on himself, basking in the warmth of his blanket burrito as Derek walked into the kitchen.

Stiles had no idea what Derek was doing, but he recognized the sounds of rustling bags, his kitchen cabinets being opened and closed, and what was either a pot or pan being put on the stove.

It was kind of weird, but even though they barely knew each other, Stiles felt instantly at ease with Derek in his space. Which was funny because Derek had never even been in his house before, but there he was, puttering around the kitchen as if he belonged.

Maybe. Stiles wasn't exactly watching him because it hurt to open his eyes. But Derek generally seemed comfortable in any space whenever they were together. Ever since their picnic two weeks ago, they no longer limited themselves to dinner. They had yet to go to a museum or the observatory, but they'd gone hiking and to the movies. They'd gone to a concert one day and kayaking on the lake another. Derek had even taken Stiles to cheer on the local baseball team.

They weren't the Mets, but Stiles had fun regardless.

So much fun and Stiles couldn't help but feel like he'd missed out on so much by not dating before. But at the same time, he wasn't sure he would have wanted to experience any of that with someone other than Derek.

It was Derek that made it fun. His laugh, his smile. His kisses—because that was a thing they did now.

The soft feel of Derek's hand brushed Stiles's forehead, and Stiles managed to crack one eye open.

Derek slid his palm to Stiles's cheek, his brows drawn tight as he stared into Stiles's eyes.

"Hey," Derek said, his voice quiet and full of worry.

"Hey," Stiles croaked, his throat so dry.

Derek looped an arm behind Stiles's back, helping him sit up before holding out a glass of water. "Here, drink this."

Stiles took a sip as it was held to his lips, and he couldn't help the way his body flushed at the caring gesture. Hopefully, Derek wouldn't be able to tell the difference considering Stiles always had rosy cheeks when he was sick.

"Thank you," Stiles whispered before he turned away, hunching over to cough into the crook of his arm. Derek might be a werewolf and immune to human illnesses, but it would still be rude to cough in his face.

God, his chest hurt.

"When was the last time you took medicine?" Derek asked when Stiles's coughing fit seemed to be done. The joke was on Derek, though, because as soon as Stiles tried to answer, he was sent into another one.

Derek rubbed his back and Stiles slowly sat back up when he was done.

"Thanks. And um, I don't know. After I texted you, canceling our date. I did text you, right?" Stiles asked, even though if Derek was here, he obviously hadn't.

Which made him feel like shit.

Until Derek answered, "Yes, you did. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I brought some soup. It's heating up on the stove. And I got you some medicine, too."

He handed over a CVS bag, and when Stiles opened it, his eyes widened. Inside was just about every type of medicine he could ever need. Pain relievers, decongestants, antihistamines, cough suppressants, and expectorants. There were even throat drops, Kleenex, and one of those sinus rinse kits.

"I, uh…" Derek rubbed the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching across his chest at the movement. "I wasn't sure what to get, so I asked one of the pharmacists. But then they mentioned being careful in case you had allergies to certain medicine, so I just grabbed a bunch of different things. I'm not entirely sure they were supposed to sell all of this to me because their machine kept making noises, and they had to have someone come override something, but yeah. Anyway. There should be something in there you could use."

There was a slight blush over his cheeks and even the tips of his ears were tinged pink. Oh fuck, Derek was adorable.

"Thank you," Stiles said, not bothering to hide the awe he felt that Derek would go to so much trouble. "You didn't have to do all this."

"I just hated the thought of you being sick."

Before Stiles could respond, Derek got up and returned to the kitchen. Stiles stared after him, his chest aching for a different reason now. He was falling for Derek.

Hard.

Literally, too, as he threw himself back down on the couch, the bag of medicine still in his lap. He covered his head with the blanket as he tried to drown out his thoughts. Except naturally, he couldn't since they were in his head which was also under the blanket.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed since Derek went back into the kitchen, probably mere seconds, but soon his face was exposed again as Derek peeled back the blanket.

Stiles refused to open his eyes until a washcloth rubbed over his forehead, wiping away the sweat.

"You should take something," Derek whispered, taking the bag from Stiles's lap.

All Stiles could do was nod since he didn't trust himself to speak. With his luck, his brain-to-mouth filter would fail and he'd blurt out a marriage proposal—or beg Derek to date him for real. Okay, maybe not either of those, but he might ask if there was a chance Derek liked him, too, which was just as bad.

And Stiles wasn't ready to experience the sting of that rejection just yet. Because as much as he wondered if Derek actually liked him, the truth was that Derek was paid to go on those dates with him. Not to mention, he genuinely seemed like a nice guy, and Stiles didn't want to take Derek's kindness as anything more than just that.

Plus, if he remembered the contract correctly since this was a last-minute cancellation, he was being charged the full amount of the date anyway.

"Which one…?" Derek seemed unsure as he looked in the bag because, of course, he was. He was a werewolf and clearly didn't know anything about human illnesses. Proven by the fact that he'd probably bought out the store.

Stiles should ask him for the receipt to pay him back.

What he did instead was point to the package of Sudafed, which Derek promptly opened, handing him two pills. Stiles propped himself up on an elbow, then popped them in his mouth and picked up the glass of water on the coffee table to swallow them down.

Derek took the glass when he was done and felt his forehead again.

"You shouldn't get too close to me," Stiles groaned even as he leaned into Derek's touch.

"I can't get sick." Derek looked at him with a fond expression as he brushed away the hair that had fallen over Stiles's eyes. Then he dug in the bag again and pulled out a jar of Vaporub. "So this might seem weird, but when I was at the store, this sweet older lady suggested I try this. She swore by it."

Stiles furrowed his brows in confusion as Derek reached down, pulling the blanket away from Stiles's feet. Gently, he lifted one foot, took Stiles's sock off, and opened the jar. The strong scent of menthol filled Stiles's senses as Derek spread a thin layer on the sole of his foot before covering it with a sock again.

"A little old lady told you this would work?" Stiles asked as Derek repeated the process on his other foot. How the hell was Vaporub on the bottom of his feet supposed to help his cold or whatever this was? But Stiles wasn't about to question it when he wanted to groan at how good the inadvertent foot massage was. Or maybe it was the fact that Derek was also taking his pain. Stiles recognized it as black tendrils snaked up Derek's arm.

Derek nodded. "Said she does this when she's sick and did it with all her kids when they were younger, and they'd always feel better the next day."

"Well, I already feel like I can breathe better." To prove his point, Stiles inhaled deeply, letting out a deep sigh when he didn't start coughing.

Only he spoke too soon. Stiles doubled over to cough, though he had to admit that his chest didn't hurt as bad now.

"Just rest," Derek told him, making sure Stiles was tucked back under the blanket. "The soup should be warm now. I'll go make you a bowl."

Derek disappeared into the kitchen again, and Stiles thought about how this was—despite everything—one of the best moments of his life. So it wasn't really a surprise that he couldn't help but think it had to mean something that Derek would go to all this trouble and expense to make sure he was okay.

Right?

Stiles watched Derek move around the kitchen, pulling a bowl down from the cabinets and grabbing a spoon from the drawer, and smiled. If only he were brave enough to ask Derek what this was, but he didn't want this moment potentially ruined, so he stayed quiet.

"I hope this is alright," Derek said as he walked back into the living room.

Stiles sat up, and between the meds and Derek taking his pain, moving didn't hurt anymore.

Derek took the spot beside him, placing a throw pillow on Stiles's lap before handing him the bowl of warm soup.

Stiles's cheeks flushed as he smiled down at the bowl for a second. It looked and smelled delicious. "Did you make this? Like homemade?"

"Yeah. My friend, Erica...she said that chicken noodle soup would be good if you're sick. So she sent me her mom's recipe."

Stiles brought the bowl up and inhaled. His mouth watered immediately, and he wanted to devour it, but he didn't. Instead, he carefully sipped the soup, the savory and salty flavor of the broth rushing over his tongue. A moan slipped free, but he couldn't be bothered to be embarrassed by it because it was seriously so good. And soon, it was all gone—even all the vegetables, which Stiles tended to avoid.

"Do you want more?" Derek asked him, taking the bowl from him when he was done.

Stiles shook his head. He probably could inhale another bowl, but he was starting to feel sleepy again. Derek could probably tell by the way his eyes drooped. "No. At least not right now. And thank you. That was delicious."

"You're welcome," Derek said with a soft smile. "I'm glad you liked it. Next date, we should stay in and I'll cook you dinner."

"That sounds good." And it really did. Probably too good, considering he was already too hopeful that Derek actually liked him more than just a client.

Stiles yawned, too tired to talk himself out of leaning against Derek.

"C'mon." Derek looped an arm around his back. "You'll rest better in your bed. Do you want me to help you there?"

Stiles nodded, relaxing as Derek lifted him up. He pointed down the hall with the intention of telling Derek where his room was but must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, Derek was tucking him into bed. With a deep and contented sigh, he reached out, grabbing Derek's hand.

It felt wrong to ask him to stay, especially when Derek was paid to be here. But Stiles also didn't want him to go yet.

"Stay."

Derek ducked his head, and for a moment, Stiles worried that he overstepped, but then Derek kicked off his shoes. He set his phone, wallet, and keys on the nightstand and climbed into bed beside him.

Stiles couldn't help the small smile spreading across his face as Derek draped an arm across his waist, dragging him close. Derek's breath was warm against the back of his neck, and the heavy weight of Derek's arm was comforting despite never having someone in his bed before.

Derek's warmth and presence lulled Stiles to sleep and filled his dreams with all the possibilities of what could be.

"So when do I get to meet this boyfriend of yours?" Lydia asked as they waited in line for popcorn and drinks.

Stiles turned to look at her and couldn't shy away from her green eyes as they bore into him. He groaned internally, hating himself a little for mentioning Derek at all. But he'd needed something to tell Lydia since he wasn't hanging out with her as often. Because duh. She was his best friend, so obviously she noticed when he was suddenly always busy. "He's not my boyfriend."

Lydia raised a perfectly plucked brow, her expression screaming that she knew he was hiding something and wouldn't let him get away with it. She tossed her fiery-red hair over her shoulder. As Stiles followed the movement, he froze at the sight of Derek walking through the entrance of the movie theater.

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

Stiles moved a little to the left, trying to hide behind the display case that held the candy.

Derek was arm-in-arm with a gorgeous woman. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulder as she laughed at something Derek said. She poked a perfectly manicured nail into Derek's shoulder, a gesture that spoke of familiarity. Especially when Derek snapped his teeth at her.

Was she a friend or…a girlfriend?

She couldn't be a client. They seemed way too comfortable with each other. Then again, Derek was the type of person that could make someone feel like they'd known each other their whole lives. So maybe this person, this gorgeous woman with cherry-red lips, was a client.

Maybe the way Derek treated Stiles wasn't anything special at all?

Stiles's stomach dropped out as he thought about how Derek had cared for him when he was sick. As he thought about their dates since then. How Derek held him close when they walked through the museum, talking about all the exhibits. How Derek had insisted on taking him to the zoo when Stiles said he hadn't been since before his mom had died. How Derek had taken him to the local raceway and let Stiles beat him in go-karts.

How Derek still took his breath away with every kiss at the end of every date.

A wicked pain lanced through his chest, and Stiles wanted to double over. He needed air but also couldn't—wouldn't—dare bring attention to himself right now. So instead, he focused on Lydia.

"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" she asked.

Stiles shook his head, unwilling to talk. Not that he could have if he tried. What would he say anyway? He'd have to explain that the guy he said he was dating was actually paid to do so. Fuck, he should have kept his mouth shut about Derek to begin with.

"I—" Stiles's voice caught in his throat, and he knew she was waiting for an answer, but when he looked up, Derek was staring right at him. His head was cocked to the side, brows furrowed in concern.

"Stiles." Lydia nudged him a little, pushing him forward as the line moved. "Seriously, what is going on with you right now?"

"It's nothing," he finally said, tearing his gaze from Derek and his maybe-date.

Thank God Lydia wasn't the kind of supernatural creature with enhanced senses or she'd call him out on his blatant lie. Actually, she'd call him out anyway because she had the freakish talent of knowing when he was bullshitting.

Stiles glanced back at where he'd seen Derek, but he wasn't there anymore. His date was, except maybe she hadn't been his date because she was leaning against some other guy now. He swallowed thickly, his throat clicking, and chanced a look at Lydia. "It's really nothing."

He turned away, desperately trying to ignore the pain in his chest. Thankfully, it was their turn at the counter, so he ordered their drinks and a large tub of popcorn, but then the hairs on the back of his neck stood before he could pay. A prickly awareness washed over him as a familiar warmth pressed against his back.

"Could you add another large soda to that?" Derek's breath fanned against his neck as he reached past Stiles, handing his card to the concession attendant.

Stiles turned his head, looking over his shoulder. His heart thumped wildly at how close Derek was.

"I… You…" He faltered when he felt the warmth of Derek's hand on his back. What was he doing here?

The attendant rang them out, slid three large cups across the counter, and stepped away to get their popcorn.

Derek gave Stiles a soft smile. "Hi."

Stiles nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. Derek was here. Standing next to him. Why?

"You must be Derek," Lydia said, reminding Stiles she was there. 

Derek turned to her, though he kept his hand on the small of Stiles's back. "I am. And you must be Lydia. Stiles talks about you all the time."

The attendant returned with their popcorn, interrupting their greetings, and Stiles grabbed the tub, scurrying away. It wasn't often that he didn't know what to say, but he wasn't sure what the fuck was going on right now.

Why was Derek here with them and not with the woman he'd come in with?

Derek quickly caught up to him and gestured to the soda machine. "They don't have Dr. Pepper so what would you like to drink?"

The reminder that Derek knew Stiles's soda preference actually hurt a little. A lot. Why did he have to be so good at his job and make Stiles forget that this was all fake? It was so unfair.

"Pepsi," was all Stiles said before popping popcorn into his mouth. He had to remind himself to chew so he didn't choke.

Derek nodded, his expression filled with concern again as he filled their drinks. When he was done, he handed Stiles his. Stiles accepted it, not realizing that his hand was shaking until he tried to take a sip of his soda and almost spilled it all over himself.

"You okay?" Derek reached out, steadying his hand. "Should I not have come over?"

Before he could answer, Lydia thrust a handful of napkins at him, her eyes bouncing between them as she helped Stiles clean up the small mess he'd made.

"Let me take this," she said, taking the tub of popcorn from him.

Stiles nodded absently, eyes not leaving Derek's. "Sorry, I guess I'm just surprised to see you."

The corners of Derek's lips twitched. "Same. But my pack wanted to see a movie, and we"—he gestured between them—"didn't have anything planned, so I figured why not."

Derek came here with his pack? So that blonde woman wasn't a date?

"Are you seeing the same movie as us?" Lydia asked when Stiles didn't say anything.

Derek chuckled. "I am now."

The adamance in his voice made Stiles laugh, finally breaking him from his melancholy state. "I guess you are."

"But only if you want me here," Derek said, leaning closer and dropping his voice.

Stiles nodded because he absolutely did, despite how awkward it kind of was. So they headed into the theater, quickly finding their seats.

"So what are we seeing?" Derek asked, taking Stiles's hand and threading their fingers together.

Stiles leaned in and whispered, "Spider-Man," as the lights went down and the previews started playing.

Derek nodded as if he'd expected that answer. Which was fair. Stiles had talked about wanting to see it the last time they went out. Derek squeezed his hand lightly, and Stiles couldn't deny the way his heart did somersaults behind his rib cage. Or the way his stomach swooped.

Fake, fake, fake, he reminded himself.

As the movie played, Stiles snuck glances at Derek, smiling at how the light illuminated his handsome face. Derek was mesmerizing as he sat there studying every detail of the movie, and Stiles was helplessly drawn to him.

By the time the movie was over, Stiles didn't even feel bad that he hadn't watched a single second of it, too focused on Derek the entire time. Which sucked because he liked Spider-Man, but he'd just come back another day.

They walked out of the auditorium in silence. Well, Stiles was silent. Derek and Lydia chatted like they were old friends. It was kind of nice. Stiles leaned into Derek as they walked, and though he knew Derek originally hadn't come here for him, he still couldn't help the contentment that washed over him. This felt real. Like they actually belonged here.

Together.

"Did you ride together?" Derek asked as they exited the theater.

Lydia nodded. "I drove us. But if you wouldn't mind, I actually need to run to the store before I head home, so Stiles could use a ride."

Oh, that sneaky bitch. Stiles loved her. And maybe Derek, too, because he insisted on walking Lydia to her car, watching her drive away, before leading Stiles to the Camaro.

As always, Derek opened the passenger door for Stiles. Such a gentleman. And only after they were both seated and buckled did Stiles remember that Derek's pack was at the theater, so he asked, "What about your pack? Did you guys not ride together?"

He'd almost completely forgotten about them. Oops.

"No," Derek told him, pulling out of the parking spot. "Well, Erica rode with me since we were both home. The others came straight from work but met us here, so she can get a ride back with them."

Stiles nodded, looking up at the darkening sky. Way too dark for the time of day it was.

"Looks like it's gonna rain," he said right before thunder rumbled in the distance and raindrops started to fall, taptaptapping against the window.

By the time they arrived at Stiles's house, it was a torrential downpour.

"Should we make a run for it?" Derek asked, turning his car off.

Stiles watched as lightning raced across the sky, followed by thunder that made him jump. "I would say that you don't need to walk me to my door, but maybe you should stay? Wait for the rain to stop before heading home?"

"I'd walk you regardless. But yes, I'll stay." Derek's words were laced with…something. As if he meant more than what he was saying.

Before Stiles could think about it any further, Derek was already outside, racing around the hood of the Camaro. Stiles opened his door and jumped out, slamming it shut behind him. He would apologize for it later, but icy droplets pelted his skin right now, so he ran. Derek was right beside him, splashing through the puddles on the walkway as they ran for the house. They were utterly and completely drenched to the bones when they crashed through the front door, laughing as they collapsed against it.

"Fuck. We should get out of these wet clothes," Stiles said, panting for breath as his teeth chattered. Some days he was sure his house was trying to freeze him to death. He had one of those smart thermostats and it would randomly turn the temperature down on him.

Derek nodded, his eyes flaring with heat. "Yeah, we should."

Stiles shuddered at the intensity of his gaze. It was as if Derek were devouring his body without even touching him. Stiles's nipples tightened, and his cock grew hard. Shit. He couldn't go there, so Stiles ducked his head, breaking the spell. "Alright. C'mon. I'll get you some dry clothes."

"Yeah," Derek seemed to shake himself out of his trance, too. "That'd be great."

Stiles nodded before leading Derek to his room. Inside, he turned on the bedroom light before grabbing sweatpants and a T-shirt from his dresser that he thought might fit Derek.

"Here you go," he said as the thunder and lightning outside echoed through the house. Crap, he hoped the batteries in his flashlights weren't dead in case the power went out. "You can change in the bathroom."

Derek smiled as he took the clothes. He looked so good standing there, dripping wet—his clothes clinging to him like a second skin. "Thanks."

Stiles nodded as Derek walked away. He noticed that Derek didn't bother to close the bathroom door behind himself. The light came on, and Stiles watched as Derek stripped off his shirt, muscles rippling. There was a large tattoo on his back, some type of symbol that Stiles wanted to trace with his tongue. He should look away. He should find some clothes for himself and change before Derek came back out.

Instead, he stood there, transfixed, as Derek undid the button on his pants. Heat rushed through him as he met Derek's gaze in the mirror. Stiles swallowed, uncomfortably aware that he was standing there ogling Derek like a creep. Still, he couldn't tear his eyes away.

Then Derek did the unexpected: he spun around and closed the distance between them until he was right in front of Stiles. Until Stiles could feel the heat radiating off Derek's body. Could see the flecks of gold in his eyes.

"Stiles," Derek said, his voice a deep rumble of warning. His pants hung dangerously low on his hips, showing off that delicious V-cut and coarse hair that dipped below the band of his boxer briefs.

Stiles held his breath, knowing he should move. That he should do something. Say something. But he was powerless, his body responding to Derek's without conscious thought.

Derek cradled his neck with one hand, caressing his skin with his palm. Stiles arched into his calloused touch and closed his eyes. Everything felt so much better with Derek so close.

"Look at me." Derek's thumb rubbed over Stiles's Adam's apple. "Please."

Stiles opened his eyes, unprepared for the sight of Derek's eyes. They were crimson, and his pupils were blown so wide that there was barely a hint of red left.

"Tell me you want this," Derek whispered, and Stiles knew he should say no. Not only because this was his first time, but if they went there, it changed things. Didn't it? This wouldn't be fake anymore. It couldn't. Not to Stiles. And it might break him if this didn't mean as much to Derek as it did to him.

But the words wouldn't come. All Stiles could do was stand there and breathe in Derek's scent.

Derek leaned in, his lips hovering just above Stiles's. "Tell me you want this."

"Yes." Stiles nodded, his heart racing. "I want this."

His words were followed by a clap of thunder and, with it, the slow burn of electricity arcing between them. Derek's mouth descended onto his, and Stiles parted his lips, welcoming Derek's tongue with a low groan. Sparks of pleasure surged through him as Derek's tongue explored every inch of his mouth.

Sweet mother of all that was holy; there was nothing better than kissing Derek. No one could tell him otherwise. Not to mention that Stiles's cock was practically burning a hole in the front of his pants, trying to escape. Why was he still wearing clothes?

Off. He needed them off—now. Stiles needed neither of them to be wearing clothes anymore because all he wanted was Derek's warm body pressing against his own with nothing in between.

"Derek," Stiles breathed when Derek broke the kiss.

Derek's lips trailed down Stiles's neck, and Stiles moaned at the sting of Derek's fangs nipping gently at the crook of his neck.

"Derek," Stiles breathed again, tilting his head back in encouragement as he humped against Derek's leg. Yes, he was that desperate for any little bit of friction.

Derek walked him backward, gripping the hem of Stiles's shirt and drawing it over his head. He tossed it to the side, and it landed on the ground with a wet plop. Then came his jeans, which were a little more difficult, but by the time Stiles fell back on his bed, he was naked.

Stiles scooted back on the mattress, watching as Derek shoved down his own pants and underwear, and then he was naked too.

Gloriously and deliciously naked.

The mattress dipped as Derek climbed onto the bed. He straddled Stiles's hips, and Stiles let out a low, guttural groan when Derek grabbed both of his hands and held them above his head before fastening his mouth onto Stiles's once again.

Apparently, Stiles wasn't the only one out of control.

Derek's lips were soft and inviting, a contrast to his need, which was demanding and hard. Not that Stiles minded at all. He had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was that he wanted moremoremore. So he lifted his hips, seeking friction, and as Derek ground down against him, Stiles could feel every ridge and contour of his body. Of his cock.

Their kiss deepened, and the sensations grew more intense, washing through Stiles like waves. Derek's mouth left his to trail slow, hard kisses along Stiles's jaw, kisses that felt desperate but also like he was trying to hold back. Stiles whined, arching his back. Derek met his gaze. The intensity of it grabbed Stiles's breath. It was a look of pure desire, making Stiles feel alive. It made him aware of every touch and taste of Derek, of his body. His scent.

Derek's lips explored him, and Stiles allowed it, all the while stifling his groans. His desperation. Derek was killing him in the best way, especially when he ran his fingers across Stiles's nipples. Derek leaned forward but not to lick his nipple as Stiles thought he would. Instead, Derek placed his mouth over Stiles's nipple and sucked. He sucked the tight bud into his mouth—hard—teeth nipping into Stiles's flesh. Stiles plunged his hands into Derek's hair, panting as he squirmed against the assault.

Who knew his nipples were so sensitive? Certainly not him.

Stiles closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the mattress, letting out a sound that was unintelligible even to himself. This was torture. Sweet, sweet torture and Stiles wanted more. He clamped his mouth shut as Derek slid further down his body.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Lightning rods zapped up Stiles's legs as Derek's breath ghosted over his cock. It twitched, begging for attention, but Derek didn't stop there. Instead, he moved even further down, kissing Stiles's legs and thighs. Which was somehow even more erotic since it tickled his skin and made every hair stand on end.

"Turn over," Derek said, his voice low and rough.

Stiles quickly complied, flailing as he flipped over. He'd be embarrassed, except he was sure Derek would appreciate his enthusiasm. And then Stiles was on his stomach, breathing heavily as he waited for Derek to do something. Anything.

He gasped when Derek pulled his cheeks apart, and Stiles held his breath.

One second. Two seconds. Three—

Stiles inhaled sharply as Derek lifted his hips, pressed his face between Stiles's legs, and licked his hole. Holy shit.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

Especially when Derek's tongue slid inside.

Was this supposed to feel this good? Shouldn't he feel embarrassed about having someone licking his asshole? He wasn't. He couldn't be when it felt so good. In fact, Stiles spread his legs even wider, arching his back as he silently begged for more. Derek apparently knew exactly what Stiles wanted because he thrust his tongue inside again, doing little swirls and licks as he worked Stiles's sensitive nerves.

Stiles was wild with need, and it took all of his willpower not to hump the bed. He gripped the sheets as the pleasure built. And built and built and built. And Derek moaned against him, sounding as if he was enjoying himself just as much. 

"Lube?" Derek muttered against him, as if he couldn't bring himself to pull away for even a second.

Stiles swatted a hand out, flailing around to reach the nightstand. He flung the drawer open so hard that its contents spilled to the floor when it slid out. The bed shifted as Derek leaned over the side, and then the lube was tossed onto the mattress beside Stiles. The telltale sound of the lube cap opening made Stiles's dick leak like some kind of Pavlovian response, and then Derek's finger was there, rubbing against his hole.

"Have you ever touched yourself here?" Derek asked, his voice husky with desire.

"Y-yeah." Stiles ran his tongue over his lower lip before raking it with his teeth. "I-I imagined it was you."

Derek groaned, biting Stiles's ass cheek. "Did you like it?"

"God, yes," he hissed just as Derek pushed his finger in. It was so much better than when Stiles fingered himself. It was even better than his dildo. As he relaxed—moaning and mumbling incoherently—Derek added a second finger and eventually a third, rubbing against Stiles's prostate with every skilled thrust of his hand. Derek worked him open with strong fingers, pressing open-mouth kisses on the swell of Stiles's ass.

"Oh, fuck." Stiles knew Derek could sense his desperation. That he wanted more. Needed it.

When Derek removed his fingers, Stiles let out an unmanly whimper. He tried to cover it with a grunt, but Derek chuckled.

"One second." Derek caressed his back before pulling away, and Stiles immediately missed his touch.

He looked over his shoulder, frowning when Derek got off the bed and marched to the bathroom, though now Stiles had a great view of his back, ass, and muscular thighs. "What are you doing?"

"Getting a condom," Derek said, bending over and digging in his pants pocket.

"Do we need one?" Stiles knew that werewolves didn't carry diseases, and if they were doing this, then Stiles wanted to feel all of him. No barriers.

The cords of muscle on Derek's back, shoulders, and arms shifted as he stood. Stiles wanted to nibble on them. He also wanted to run his fingers through the coarse hair on Derek's chest, across Derek's stomach, and through the patch of hair just below his navel.

When Derek faced him again, Stiles's mouth went dry because holy fucking shit. Derek's dick was huge. It was long and thick and uncut and mouthwateringly perfect, but how the fuck it was supposed to fit inside him?

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it as it bobbed in the air. Stiles kind of wanted to pout, but before he could, Derek was there, hovering over him. The heat of his body was as calming and comforting as it was intimidating with the reality of what was about to happen crashing over him. But then Derek cradled his face and kissed him as he lazily rocked against him, that monster cock sliding against his hole.

The kiss was hungry but soft. Demanding yet gentle. Stiles knew deep down that he'd already fallen hard for Derek, and even though he knew the chances of Derek being there to catch him were slim to none, he didn't care anymore. Not right now.

He wanted this. Needed it.

Stiles's breath hitched when Derek pulled away, and he groaned when Derek kissed the small of his back. His heart couldn't take such an intimate gesture.

"Are you ready?" Derek asked breathlessly, and Stiles heard the lube cap pop open again.

All he could do was nod. He bit his bottom lip and tried not to tense when he felt the much-too-large blunt head of Derek's cock against his hole. Forget about catching his breath—Stiles forgot how to breathe entirely. He fisted the sheets with one hand while slamming the other against the headboard as Derek slowly pushed in.

A bright sting of pain blended with an intense pressure that carried the promise of pleasure beneath it. It was overwhelming.

"I'll go slow," Derek promised, pressing kisses against the back of Stiles's neck. And though that was probably supposed to be comforting, Stiles couldn't help but tense up. "I need you to relax, or it'll hurt."

Stiles nodded, blowing out a breath as he tried to relax. "How far in are you?"

"Just the tip." Derek didn't push in any further. Instead, he started massaging Stiles's ass and lower back, and Stiles could tell Derek was taking his pain. He sucked in a breath as Derek squirted more lube into his crease, and it worked enough for Derek to slide in a bit more.

Derek groaned, and the sound went straight to Stiles's cock. The poor thing was so fucking confused right now. It didn't know whether to be turned on or go flaccid when the sting of the stretch made Stiles's arousal waver. Derek was so much bigger than his fingers or even the one dildo Stiles had purchased, but he knew it would be worth it as soon as—

"Oh, fuck!" Stiles cried out as Derek's cock brushed against his prostate. His chest rose and fell in shallow pants. His face and skin burned as he dropped his head, biting his bottom lip. His ass still ached a little, but this time it was an exquisite agony that made his cock throb and leak all over his sheets. "Fucking…shit…fuckfuck."

Stiles would worry about what the neighbors could hear if it weren't for the thunderstorm. God, he really hoped the thunderstorm drowned out his moans. Who would have guessed he could be so loud?

"You have no idea how good you look right now," Derek said with a throaty growl. "Does it still hurt?"

Yes, but Stiles shook his head vigorously. "Fuck no. I want more."

Derek rolled his hips in small, shallow thrusts, and that stretch and burn quickly gave way to how perfectly filled Stiles felt when Derek was finally fully seated. His hole probably looked obscene stretched around Derek's cock. When Derek tested out a bigger thrust, it was so fucking good. Heat built inside of Stiles as Derek picked up the pace, and then Derek shifted a little, tilting Stiles's hips. When he pushed back in, Stiles's entire body lit up like the fourth of July.

It was too much.

It wasn't enough.

Derek clutched his hips. Hard. His nails dug half-moons into Stiles's skin, and God, Stiles hoped they left bruises. He wanted Derek's marks all over him. The bed creaked as they rocked in perfect rhythm, punctuated by Derek's growls, repeating the same word over and over again.

Mineminemine.

"Yes!" Stiles cried out in answer.

Derek's cock dragged against that spot inside Stiles that sent small shocks of intense pleasure throughout his body again and again. His toes curled and his balls drew up tight as Derek reached around him, stroking Stiles's cock in time with his thrusts, which grew frantic and needy.

Stiles's whole body was on the precipice of euphoria until he finally let go, his body tightening and giving in simultaneously as his orgasm shot through him.

Derek turned his head, finding Stiles's lips and kissing him, hot and insistent. This was it. No one else would ever compare to Derek or this moment, and Stiles couldn't help but moan into Derek's mouth when his hole stretched even more as Derek's knot swelled. It caught on his rim a few times before Derek couldn't pull out anymore.

"So perfect. You look so good on my knot. Made for it. Made for me." Derek growled, grinding against him until Stiles shouted his name, somehow coming again.

It was everything he ever wanted but also more than he could ever dream of. So good, so perfect, and he felt amazing—panting hard and completely out of breath while his whole body tingled with pleasure.

"Mine," Derek said again, shuddering above him as he came, his cock pulsing, before collapsing against Stiles's back.

I'm all yours, Stiles wished he could say, but he couldn't. Wouldn't. It would be admitting way too much now that his mind was clearing.

Unable to support both their weights after such an intense orgasm, Stiles fell in a heap onto the mattress. Right into the wet spot under him, but Stiles didn't care. Not when his entire body was buzzing.

Derek maneuvered them to their sides and ran his hand down Stiles's side. His voice was quiet as he asked, "Did I hurt you?"

"No." Stiles shook his head. "I mean, I'm a little sore, but that was…" Indescribable. Incredible. He honestly never realized it would be like this. That a moment could be so perfect.

"So it was good?"

It was strange hearing something that sounded like uncertainty coming from Derek, who always seemed so sure of himself.

"So good," Stiles assured him. "Better than good. Seriously, ten out of ten, would do again. I'd high-five you, but I can't feel my arms. I'm not even sure I can feel my face."

Derek's huff of laughter against the back of his neck made Stiles shudder. "You're ridiculous sometimes."

"I know. But yes, being completely serious. That was amazing," Stiles said, even though he was a mess right now, all sticky and sweaty. He clenched automatically as he pictured his hole stretched over Derek's knot, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

Derek made a pained sound and gripped Stiles's hips to still him. "Keep doing that and my knot won't go down any time soon."

"How long until it does?" Stiles asked, relaxing against Derek's chest.

Derek kissed his shoulder as he hugged Stiles close. "I'm not sure. I've never knotted anyone before."

"Never?" Stiles's eyes widened in surprise. There was no way that Derek had never knotted anyone before. Why wouldn't he? Stiles had heard stories that made it sound like the best thing ever—that sex was so much better because of it. "Really?"

Derek nodded against the back of his neck. "I'm sorry. I probably should have asked first, but it just felt right with you. Magical. I don't really know how to explain it. I just know that you're mine."

Derek's words made him feel all sorts of warm and fuzzy inside—and so incredibly special. He couldn't help but believe him.

"Yours," Stiles said, closing his eyes and leaning into Derek's embrace, which felt too good. He wanted to stay in Derek's arms forever, though he still had plenty of questions about what had just happened and what Derek had said. But they would have to wait. For now, he wanted to just enjoy this moment. Though it didn't take long before Stiles felt his consciousness begin to slip.

"Tired," he murmured, and Derek kissed the back of his head.

"Go ahead and sleep. I'll clean us up once my knot goes down."

Stiles nodded, or at least, he thought he did as Derek's steady breathing and heartbeat lulled him into a deep sleep.

As he closed his eyes, Stiles couldn't help but wonder if this was what love felt like. But that thought was quickly forgotten as sleep overtook him, and his mind drifted into pleasant dreams of him and Derek and their future.

Stiles woke up achingly hard—not an uncommon occurrence since meeting Derek. However, the ache in his ass was uncommon. Though it was a pleasant ache. A satisfying reminder of last night. The thought of Derek's knot made Stiles's cock throb and his hole clench. He ground against the mattress, moaning into his pillow at the friction.

An arm tightened around his waist, and a gruff voice growled in his ear, "God, you smell so good."

Part of Stiles had been worried he'd wake up to an empty bed. That Derek would have taken off in the middle of the night. Sure, Derek had practically claimed him last night. Had said Stiles was his, but it could have been said in the heat of the moment. They were knotted together, after all. Stiles wouldn't have held it against him, so needless to say, it was a pleasant surprise that Derek was still there, pressed against him.

Lust spiked through Stiles's body and he turned in Derek's arms, brushing his fingers over Derek's cheeks and neck, just taking a moment to study him. Sunlight trickled in through the curtains, casting a golden glow over Derek's face. His eyes were still shut, black lashes framing his sharp cheekbones. God, he was so beautiful.

Stiles trailed his fingers down Derek's neck and chest to his hip, smirking when Derek's dick twitched. His breath quickened as his chest filled with nervous excitement when he grabbed the lube that was still beside him, squirting some into his palm. His own cock jumped in anticipation as he wrapped his hand around Derek's.

"What are you doing?" Derek asked, his voice rough with sleep. When he finally opened his eyes, they bore through Stiles with an intensity that stole his breath.

"I didn't really get to touch you last night," Stiles whispered, staring between them as Derek bucked into his fist.

Derek chuckled, the vibration of it humming through Stiles's body. He gripped Stiles's ass and rolled to his back, pulling Stiles over him until their chests were flush.

Warmth pooled in Stiles's belly as Derek leaned up, running his tongue along Stiles's bottom lip, igniting the fire already raging between them.

Derek drew back, their lips still brushing, and murmured, "Why don't you let me take care of you."

Though Stiles had wanted to take care of Derek, to bring him pleasure, he whispered, "Yes," without hesitation.

Derek leaned in again, caressing Stiles's tongue with gentle strokes. Stiles soared, lost in the heat and emotion between them. When Derek pulled back, his eyes were shining with what Stiles thought might be love. His heart tripped over itself.

Could this be real?

Derek brushed his lips against Stiles's forehead, leaving a soft, tender kiss.

"I've got you," he said, lining up their cocks and wrapping a hand around both of them, giving Stiles that sweet, delicious friction that made him tremble.

Stiles's heart pounded as they rocked together, and the room filled with moans and heavy breathing.

"I-I really wanna suck you off," he panted when Derek twisted his wrist. Stiles wasn't sure why or how he was talking, considering he couldn't even think right now. Not when the pressure teetered on the edge of pleasure-pain.

Derek pulled Stiles in by the back of his neck with his other hand, kissing him again. "Next time."

As they kissed, Stiles ran his fingers along Derek's neck with a featherlight touch, writhing when Derek trailed his fingers down his back.

"Oh, fu—" Stiles started, but Derek swallowed his groan with a passionate sweep of his tongue. More ridiculous sounds rose from his throat, escaping in the form of whimpers and moans that would be downright embarrassing if he cared at all. But how could he when—

"I love the sounds you make," Derek said, panting when he broke the kiss.

And Stiles wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out. It felt too good. His body was like a live wire—all coiled, sparking energy. But surprisingly, it wasn't Stiles who snapped first.

Derek's body went taut, and his curses filled the room. A tendon stood out on the side of his neck that Stiles wanted to nibble on. Fuck, Derek looked so good when he came. There was something about the way his eyes rolled to the back of his head before setting a hard glare at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him that really turned Stiles on.

He kept thrusting, digging his fingers into Derek's shoulders, clinging to him for dear life as he chased his own release.

"Come on, Stiles," Derek urged, tightening his grip on Stiles's cock. "Let me see you come."

The order sent shockwaves through Stiles, and he jerked forward. With his head thrown back, Stiles cried out Derek's name as his dick pulsed rhythmically between them.

"God, you feel so good," Derek mumbled against his shoulder when Stiles collapsed against him, boneless and content.

Stiles smiled softly, still panting as he nodded. Words were lost to him, and all he could do was hum his approval of a great orgasm as his nerve endings tingled and his body twitched. Goosebumps erupted along his skin at every puff of Derek's breath against the side of his neck.

"Well, that was the best way to wake up," Derek said, panting. "What did you say last night? Ten of ten, would do again?"

Stiles snorted, falling to the side but tangling their legs together. He could stay wrapped up in Derek for days. For forever. "Absolutely."

Before Derek could wipe his hand off on the sheets or get up to clean himself, Stiles grabbed it and brought it up to his mouth. He flushed as he licked a stripe up Derek's palm. "Mmm…not as bad as I'd thought it'd be."

"Jesus Christ." Derek growled before crushing their lips together again. "You have no idea," he muttered against Stiles's lips, "how incredible you are. I don't know how I was lucky enough to find you. That I get to have you."

There it was again. Those words.

Stiles sighed and pressed their foreheads together. His heart beat erratically as he asked, "So this is real? You really want me?"

"I meant what I said last night." Derek pulled back and tilted Stiles's chin up with two fingers, searching his eyes. His lips curved into a slow, gentle smile. "You're mine, Stiles. I want to be with you. For real."

Stiles shivered at Derek's words. So what Derek had said last night hadn't been a fluke. It wasn't just a declaration in the heat of the moment. Derek really wanted him. Wanted them to be together. Stiles's heart felt like it was about to burst with happiness. He trailed featherlight kisses against Derek's skin and closed his eyes, feeling like nothing could touch this moment.

No fear, no doubts. Just them. Together.

"I want you, too. I'm yours," Stiles whispered, and Derek exhaled, nodding before dropping his forehead to Stiles's shoulder. Stiles ran his hands through Derek's hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and they stayed like that for what felt like a lifetime, yet still wasn't long enough.

(Epilogue)

"Happy anniversary," Derek said, rubbing his cheek against the top of Stiles's head as they watched the sun dip below the horizon. They were on the cliffside at lookout point again. Their spot, as Derek liked to call it. Like a slow explosion, red, orange, and yellow radiated across the sky, fading out as it turned purple-blue.

Stiles smiled. "Anniversary?"

As far as he knew, their anniversary wasn't for a few weeks. It had been just over a year since he'd found Derek's website. Since they met and had their first fake date. Some days he still couldn't believe how things had worked out. It had never been part of Stiles's plan to get a rental boyfriend just to experience a first date. Nor had it been part of his plan to stumble upon Derek's page and hire him for a few hours every week. And Stiles definitely hadn't meant to actually start falling for the guy.

But he had, and he didn't regret a single second of it.

"This was our first date," Derek whispered, taking Stiles's hand.

Stiles pulled back and tilted his head to look at Derek, raising a brow in question. "Babe…our anniversary is in three weeks."

"Babe…" It was so quiet here that Derek's voice carried on the wind. "Today is one year since our first date."

"I mean, if you wanna get technical about it, the anniversary of our first date was like a week ago, but I don't count that. And our first official date was to that diner the morning after we first slept together."

"I don't count either of those as our first date," Derek told him, a smile on his stupidly handsome face. It made his eyes crinkle in the corners and his dimples pop. "One year ago today, I brought you up here for our first real date."

Stiles thought back, and sure enough, coming to lookout point had been the first date Derek had planned for them. Granted, it was while Stiles had been paying him; then again, Derek had also reversed all those charges. Every single last one of them. Derek said taking Stiles's money felt wrong when it had never been a job for him. When it had always felt like more.

"That was the night you kissed me." Stiles smiled at the memory.

Derek nodded. "I liked you, Stiles. A lot. From the moment we met, I knew that you were special. I wanted you. This." He gestured between them. "Which was why I asked if I could plan that date."

A warmth spread through Stiles's chest as it always did whenever Derek talked about his feelings for him. He blinked away the sting of happy tears and looked back out at the view, sighing in contentment. "Alright then, happy anniversary."

Derek squeezed his hand in response.

The wind blew around them, bringing with it a little bit of coolness as the night grew darker, but Stiles wanted to stay in this moment forever.

Derek kept his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I've been thinking…"

There was something in the way he said it that had Stiles's heart skipping a beat in anticipation, excitement, and suspense. His brows knit together in curiosity. "You have? About what?"

Derek was silent for a few moments, watching as the stars appeared in the sky. And then he pressed something into Stiles's palm and said, "I love you. I think I fell in love with you the moment we met, and I fall in love with you more and more each day."

Stiles turned his hand over and gasped as he stared down at the matte black band embedded with six sparkling diamonds. His heart thumpthumpthumped wildly, a staccato rhythm he knew Derek could hear.

"I love you, too. Derek, I…" Stiles met his gaze and swallowed hard as his emotions threatened to choke him. They'd talked about marriage a few times; of course, they had. It was something they both wanted. In fact, Stiles often joked about proposing and making a big production out of it, but really this was perfect. Just him and Derek at their spot, watching the sunset.

Derek pulled him in by the back of his neck and kissed him softly. When he broke the kiss, he pressed their foreheads together. His breath fanned across Stiles's face as he asked, "Will you marry me?"

Tears pooled in Stiles's eyes. He held Derek's gaze and, without a beat of hesitation, answered, "Yes."

A beautiful smile split Derek's handsome face, and for a few moments, they just looked at each other as they took in the enormity of what had just happened. They just got engaged. Derek was his fiancé and they were going to get married!

Derek leaned in to kiss him again and Stiles melted. The kiss was gentle and sweet and lingered with the promise of a beautiful future.

When they finally broke apart, Stiles giggled—an actual fucking school girl-type giggle. He was happier and lighter than he ever thought possible. "We're engaged."

Derek's lips quirked up. "We are." He pulled Stiles in for a hug and whispered into his ear, "You make me so happy, Stiles."

And that was the moment Stiles knew, without a doubt, that he was the luckiest guy in the world.

The sky was nearly black now, with the stars shining brightly and the moon casting an almost ethereal glow over the night. Stiles reached up, wiping the tears from his eyes, and took one final look around.

This place. This moment. It was perfection, and Stiles would hold it in his heart forever.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #summer 2023 sterek exchange #thesterekexchange #sterek exchange #eternalsterek #sterek event #holy shit i wrote something

[anjaelle]

The Girlfriend Experience

Pairing: Frank Castle x Black! OFC (Cori)

Tags: Mild Age Gap (Mid-late twenties OC/mid-thirties Frank), Frank Corrupting an Honest Woman, Frank being a smug piece of shit, choking, spanking, marking, hair grabbing, Fingering

Summary: Frank, ever the menace, convinces Cori that it's okay to break rules.

Word Count: 3.3K

a/n: This started out as one thing and turned into something completely different. I started this in Fall 2022 and I'm just now finishing it. Congratulate me now.

(Gif Source)

She very rarely visited her brothers shop. At least, that was the case these last few years. She could understand why Brandon's chair was so popular: He was funny, he was skilled, and he was adept at charming the masses.

She could remember learning how to do shape-ups and trims as a teenager just from watching him work while she did her homework. Sometimes she'd listen in on the barber shop discussions with mild intrigue. They'd talk about sports, and women, and...more sports. Sometimes they'd talk about whatever show or movie they'd watched last night.

It was like watching a foreign entity in an enclosure from a distance, if she was being honest.

Quiet and pensive, she was able to fly under the radar for the vast majority of her teenage years. Sure, sometimes boys would talk to her when she visited. And she'd shyly respond before burying her head back into the books. As she got older and started working in the shop part-time, she noticed the looks even more. For the most part, she could brush them off. But every so often someone would cross the line and Brandon would put his foot down to make it clear that his little sister was off-limits. That was the agreement, and that was the rule.

Then Frank Castle showed up.

Cori wasn't sure when Frank became a regular. While she was juggling grad school and work, she didn't really have time to visit her brother anymore. The first time she met HIM was when she had to fill in for Brandon, and Frank scoffed at her supposed ability to cut and style his hair the way he liked.

That was usually the case with new clients. The incredulity used to piss her off, but now it was just tired.

Unlike previous clients, however, Frank watched her carefully as she worked. It was mildly unsettling, if she was honest with herself, because she wasn't used to people watching her the way she watched others. It didn't help that he had the world's best poker face.

It took 2 more visits before he finally spoke to her in something other than one word responses and grunts.

When her brother had to leave to pick up his kids, she offered to stay and take care of Frank. Despite how intimidating he initially seemed, he exuded a sense of safety that made her trust him. The space was empty and quiet, save for the gentle buzz of the clipper as it glided over his hair.

"What's Cori short for?" He asked, suddenly. She was caught off guard by the question. Something fluttered in her stomach at the gruff way his voice handled her name and she felt her hands hesitate.

"...Corinthian." She responded, plainly. He raised a brow at her and she shrugged, restarting the clippers to even out the back of his hair.

"You're fucking with me."

"Am I?" She chanced a small smirk at him in the mirror and their eyes met. He smirked at her in response. Then an uncharacteristic chuckle rumbled from his chest.

"What's it really short for?"

She gently tilted his head forward to trim the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Nothing. I'm named after my father." She confessed. He hummed, satisfied by the answer and comfortable with the silence that followed.

After that, they would always greet each other whenever she came by the shop to visit. He said her name with a level of cool distance that she didn't buy for a second.

She wasn't sure if her brother ever noticed the soft smile that crossed Frank's features whenever she walked through the door.

---

"You had me in your phone as 'Big Guy'?" He asked, grinning, "Kinda lazy, huh?"

She crossed the room and sat cross-legged on her bed, suddenly hyper aware of how everything in her small studio apartment looked. Despite this being Cori's home, she felt out of her element. After all, meeting clients after hours was a no-no. It was rule number one above ALL rules.

But, of course, Frank always found a way to make her break her own code of ethics.

She picked at her thumbnail and shrugged, "I don't know. What else was I supposed to call you when I didn't know you yet?"

He didn't answer, but he shut the door behind him and slipped his boots off, neatly placing them in the corner. Cori was grateful he remembered THAT rule, at least. As if reading her mind, he glanced down at his clothes and grumbled something about rain.

"You could've rescheduled," she offered, "I wouldn't have minded. This isn't worth walking in the rain for."

He answered by shaking the damp growth of curls from his forehead, "You know you're the only one who knows how I like it. And it's not like I know what you do when I'm not around. You probably gotta--I dunno...go to class or somethin'. Save baby animals. Tutor orphans. Shit like that."

At this, she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in her hand, shooting him a tired look as he moved to pull his wet gray hoodie over his head and shoulders.

"I'll have you know I live a very interesting life," she averted her gaze as his Semper Fi shirt briefly rode up, revealing his treasure trail and and light scarring on his stomach, "I'm young, I'm pretty. The world is my oyster...or whatever."

She sighed, not even believing her own lies. Her life consisted of work, and staring at her business management books until the words started to blend together in a puree of intellectualism. She couldn't even remember the last time she wore a cute outfit and went to the club. Or the last time she texted her friends. She made a mental note to do both at some point as she rolled onto her stomach and reached under her bed for her toolkit.

"You don't gotta have an interesting life," he said, watching her do gymnastics in an effort to find her things, "Boring's good. Boring's safe."

Her hand swept across the floor until her fingers brushed the shoebox, "Who says I want to be good and safe? Maybe I could use a little bit of danger in my life. It'll give me interesting stories to tell, at least."

Pulling the box from its hiding space, she looked up to see Frank leaning up against the wall, watching her intensely with an amused look on her face, "You don't mean that. If you saw the insane shit I saw..."

There was a pregnant pause between them, with Cori feeling like she was missing something and Frank refusing to finish his statement. She jumped to her feet, choosing to break the silence.

"You want some water or something? I also have iced tea, ginger ale-"

"Water's good."

"Is tap alright?"

"Do I seem like the Perrier type?"

She offered a small smile as she turned the faucet on and waited for the water to cool, "Maybe a little."

He guffawed.

"Did you wash and condition this time?" Cori asked. She eyed his hair, already knowing the answer.

"No."

"Why not?" She handed him the glass filled halfway with ice water, and his eyes locked onto hers. She nearly dropped it.

"I guess I kinda like it better when you do it," he held her gaze as he took a long sip from his glass. She deadpanned.

"So what you're saying is you forgot."

He pulled the glass from his lips and grinned at her, slyly.

"You think Imma liar?"

"...I'm not entertaining that with a response."

She wasn't sure what he did for a living. Unsurprisingly, he wasn't one for storytelling and evaded doing so by listening to Cori ramble on about her life. Was his day-to-day so full of turmoil that the mundane seemed like reprieve? All she knew was that he was in the military a while back, and that his wife passed away. She would make up scenarios in her head where he was a boxing champion or a spy.

Big, broody, and decorated in scars and dark bruises, Frank seemed wildly out of place in her small, pink decorated bathroom. She made sure to grab the chair from the kitchen, as well as a towel, a comb, and HER expensive shampoo and conditioner that he certainly wouldn't repay her for.

"You owe me extra for this," she warned, glancing at him from above as he tilted his head back over the sink, "This high quality shit is expensive, Castle."

He hummed his response and closed his eyes as she ran the detachable shower head over his dark hair. The moment the warm water touched his scalp, he sighed in content. And the sigh went straight to her coochie, much to her annoyance. The feeling intensified as she lathered up his hair and he peeked an eye open to look at her.

She knew Frank had grown used to her. His barber shop persona was fascinating. He'd argue with her brother about sports team rankings and drafts. Then the deep rumble of disapproval that blossomed from his chest every time her brother mentioned an athlete he hated made her shift in her seat.

Once upon a time, Frank claimed that she was way too serious. And, thus, he enjoyed pushing her buttons for his own sick enjoyment. Cori understood that he wasn't really like this with most people. He fell into the habit of flustering her on purpose. Especially around the other guys in the shop, though they never seemed to notice.

She had the upper hand when he was in her apartment, to an extent.

The very first time she washed his hair, he stiffened at her touch and it took a while for him to visibly calm down. He admitted to her that it'd been a while since someone else washed his hair, and he wasn't used to it. When she asked him if he wanted her to stop, he shot her a long, intense look before telling her he was fine.

He confessed to her during his second apartment visit that his "profession" made him wary about most things, including touching and...overt closeness. Of course, those weren't the words he used. He mumbled something about offensive hands and defensive moves. She asked for clarification and he evaded the question.

She wasn't sure what their relationship was now. But there was a noticeable shift. Cori's fingers gently massaged his scalp, and she hummed something to herself. His shoulders relaxed, a small smile graced his features, and he opened his eyes again to watch her as she worked the comb through his hair. She was keenly aware of it, but she shyly avoided his gaze, focusing instead on rinsing out the last of the conditioner.

"Up." She commanded, in a hoarse whisper. He sat up and her eyes followed the water that dripped down his neck, staining his shirt. She knew he noticed. She chose to play stupid. Cori towel dried his hair, beginning at his neck and working her way up to his hair that fell over his dark eyes. She worked in silence, lost in her own head until he lightly grabbed her wrist.

"Com'ere," he said with a head tilt. She eyed him curiously, and he laughed. "I'm serious, Cori. C'mon."

She sighed, pretending to be tired but internally intrigued. The minute she stepped in front of him, he gently pulled at her arm.

"Closer..."

She stopped fighting the smile forming on her face as she rolled her eyes and shuffled an inch closer.

"A little closer," Frank coaxed.

"You're so obnoxious." Cori mumbled, but stepped an inch closer anyway, refusing to give him the benefit of direct eye contact.

His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her into the space between his legs. She was surprised to find her hands moving of their own volition: one resting on his thick shoulder and the other gently brushing the droplets of water from the side of his face with the soft towel.

"There ya go.” He looked up at her with mischief in his eyes, "You gonna stop avoiding me, now?"

"I wasn't avoiding you," Cori grumbled.

She was absolutely avoiding him. She continued to towel try his hair as he rubbed small circles into the small of her back.

"It's not gonna work, Frank."

He snorted and she couldn't even blame him. She didn't sound the least bit convincing. He cocked his head to the side and licked his lips.

"Are you trying to hurt my feelings, Cor?"

"Yes."

She combed her fingers through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. Anything to avoid looking directly at him. With his hands on her, and the close proximity, Cori wasn't confident in her ability to hold out for much longer.

"Sweetheart, you're killing me," her breath hitched. He leaned forward, pressing his face against her soft stomach.

Cori was always startled by how quickly she blacked out whenever he got into her head. She couldn't remember climbing into his lap and tangling her fingers in his damp hair as she kissed him. His hands roamed from her lower back, slipping beneath her cotton shorts to grab her bare ass in his large calloused hands.

"Shit. You were ready for me, huh?" He chided.

"Shut up."

The only fleeting logical thought floating in her empty, horny head was the question of how the chair could handle their combined weight. His tongue slipped between her lips and he let out a low groan that pushed the thoughts away just as quickly as they arrived. Cori rocked her hips against his lap as Frank smiled against her lips.

"You're so smug," she mumbled, moving to kiss along his jaw. Her hands slipped under his shirt and her nails walked along the hard lines of his stomach. He sucked air between his teeth. He worked her shorts down over her ass and she pushed his shirt over his head, tossing it into the empty tub beside them.

She kissed down his neck and chest, pausing only to examine the numerous scars and fading bruises decorating his skin.

“Do they hurt?” Cori asked, tenderly. She hovered her fingers over a reddened mark that appeared to be the most recent of his injuries. He clicked his tongue dismissively.

He flattened her hand on his chest under his palm, “See? I’m good, baby. You don’t gotta worry about me, I’m not fragile.” He dragged her hand slowly down his torso, and the muscles in his stomach reflexively twitched in response. Cori swallowed hard as she felt the length of him harden between her thighs.

“Oh…” she managed to whisper, under her breath. He curled his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her down for a slow kiss. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she sighed contentedly into his mouth. As if moving of their own volition, Cori’s hands worked to drag her nails over his sensitive length beneath the coarse denim. As she toyed with the head of his dick through his jeans, his hands roamed around her stomach and reached up to grab her breasts under her shirt.

“Fuck…” She started, instinctively arching her back and abandoning the zipper she’d begun working on. She pressed her hands over his, urging him to touch her more, “…that feels…”

She struggled to get the words out as he pushed her shirt up over her breasts to tease her nipples between his fingers.

“Use your words, baby,” he coaxed. When he wrapped his lips around her right nipple and reached between them to tease her clit, a hoarse cry rose from her throat.

She whined, rocking her hips against his hand. Her head lolled back and it took everything in her to keep from falling off of his lap. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, so she couldn’t wriggle away, “Please…”

“Please what, Cor’?” He slipped his index and middle fingers deep into her pussy, curling them against her. She gripped his shoulder, digging her nails into his skin.

“God god god,” she whined, pitifully, "right there."

He watched her work herself into a frenzy, exuding the air of semi-smug amusement. She wanted to slap the grin off of his face. She could barely remember why he was here in the first place. Maybe he planned this all along. Then he smacked her on the ass—one sharp quick smack—and all she could do was allow her brain to short circuit. She managed to pull a deep groan from him--one that rumbled throughout her body and made her shudder--when she dragged her nails along his scalp and a grabbed some of his damp hair in her fist. The groan dissolved into a low laugh, and he sucked air between his teeth.

"Harder." He commanded. She complied, giving his curls a sharp tug as she rolled her hips in his lap. An almost primal grunt resonated from his parted lips that she swallowed with her own. Cori reached down again to make another eager attempt at undoing his zipper, and he stopped her, grabbing both of her hands in one of his.

"Are you talking to anyone else?" He suddenly asked.

Cori felt like she was in a thick fog and she'd lost all memory of every word she'd ever spoken. She took a deep breath as if trying to register where she was.

"...I don't think so." She slurred through the haze.

His fingers stilled between her thighs and she pouted, shifting her hips to chase the oncoming climax. She could almost taste it, it was so close.

"You don't think so?" He pressed his thick thumb against her clit, and her thighs tensed around him. She was positive he could feel her heart pounding.

"Frankie please..." She arched her back.

"I can find out if you are, Cor'. So speak up."

A small grin pulled at the corner of her mouth when she locked eyes with him. She could almost drown in the darkness of his gaze. It excited her. She wasn't talking to anyone else, it's not like she had the time. But a part of her wanted to lie just to see what he would do. He quirked an eyebrow at her like he wanted to devour her whole. All he needed was the confirmation he wanted, because they both knew he didn't like sharing.

She decided to risk it, "What if I am?"

"Are you?"

"Maybe."

His fingers pressed against her g-spot and her body jolted in response, leaving small aftershocks in its wake.

"Don't fucking play games with me." He licked his lips and picked up the speed of his thumb on her clit, "Is someone else making you come?"

She swallowed hard, shaking her head.

"Use your words." He demanded.

"No, baby."

She felt his dick jump between her thighs at the term of endearment. He curled her fingers against her g-spot again, and then again. And he pulled her flush against him when her legs began to shake and she tried to run from the pleasure

"I'm the only one that makes you feel this good, right, sweet girl?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yessss." She chanted, digging her nails into his arm. "Oh, ffffuck!"

He whispered in her ear, talking her through it as she came and leaving hickies on her neck. Cori shuddered hard in his lap and throwing her head back so hard she nearly tipped over. She was sure her neighbors thought she was getting murdered in her bathroom, and she knew she'd have to face the curious looks the next time she ran into them in the hall. But as she came down from her high and dove into another deep kiss after he licked her off of his fingers, she couldn't bring herself to give a shit.

Frank suddenly stood up, wrapping her legs around his hips to carry her back to her bedroom.

"Wait, your hair." She mumbled between kisses, "I have to--"

"Fuck the hair," he grumbled, tossing her onto the mattress, "You can do it tomorrow morning."

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x ofc #frank castle #jon bernthal #jon bernthal x reader #jaelle writes

[squigglebottom]

A Night With Royalty

18+ Minors don’t you dare!!!

Word Count: 3790

Pairing: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Original Female Character

Warnings: Explicit, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Double Penetration, Light BDSM, Drug Use, Alcohol Use, Marijuana, Swearing, Face-Sitting, Partying.

It was a typical Saturday night, getting drunk, pigging out on junk food, and cheesy horror movies on the tv. Layla was off that night from the record store and Eddie didn't have a show to play. Steve must've also been lonely and bored since he called last minute and asked to hang as well. Wasn't a big deal since Uncle Wayne was working another graveyard shift. That's what was nice about hanging out at Eddie's-no responsible parental units around meant irresponsible young adults. They could be as loud as they want, party as long as they want, and be as naughty as they want. Layla was Eddie's long time girlfriend and his age-yet she graduated 2 years ago. Had a steady job at a record store that had an underground tattoo shop in the back. She was quite the artist and back in the day used to experiment on Eddie...now that's a trusting boyfriend.

She still lived with her parents because her and Eddie were supposed to move out on their own...except he still had yet to graduate. Layla wasn't going to move in with him until he walked that stage and got that diploma because she was not going to "pack my boyfriends lunch and send him off to school like I'm his damn mother." She loved Eddie and tried to help him out with school but he wouldn't hear it....but that's Eddie...stubborn as a mule. She wanted to get him out of the trailer so his poor Uncle could have his room back. Wayne never complained since he loved having Eddie around but they all knew a real bed was better than that fold up cot.

Steve arrived around 9 already a few drinks in and knocked on the door.

"My my my is that the King himself? Babe look! Wow I have a King and a Princess in my home. I'm surrounded by fucking royalty." Eddie said with a huge shit eating grin on his face.

"Yah yah fuckwad just let me in already." Steve hated being called that but Eddie knew that and never let it down.

"Ok it's starting to get less funny...leave the guy alone...Edward." Layla responded back knowing how Eddie hated being called Edward as much as Steve hated being called King. Eddie gave Layla a death stare. "Oh no! Looks like I'm in trouble!"

"Damn right you are little girl! Now get over here and receive your punishment!"

"Hell no! I'm not that stupid!" Eddie starts chasing Layla around, screaming and hollering when Steve grabs her so Eddie can dish out the justice for her calling him Edward. He picks her up, slings her over his shoulder, and gives her 10 hard whacks on her ass.

"For fucks sake Eddie put me down!" When he does she looks over at Steve and says "And don't think I won't forget that act of betrayal Harrington...your on my shit list now!"

"Oooo! I'm so scared! The little 5 foot terrors gonna get me!" Eddie and Steve laugh as Layla rubs her sore ass trying to figure out how she's going to sit on the couch.

They turn on the VCR and play Children of the Corn. Steve's not really into horror movies so he doesn't pay much attention. He steals glances at Layla and Eddie snuggling on the couch. He notices Eddie starts to rub his hand up and down Layla's left side starting at her shoulder, down her ribs, and then landing on her thigh just below her very short jean shorts. Her skin looks so soft, his hands laid on the couch and was only inches away from touching her thigh. He thought "If I was quick and stayed still, I wonder if I could brush my fingers over her skin and maybe she would think it was Eddie's. No...come on doofus...I'm sure she can tell the difference between her boyfriends fingers that have been all over her and inside her and to that of a stranger."

Steve was trying to concentrate on the movie and not what he wanted to do to Layla and the chub that was certainly developing in his tight jeans.  "Man, this movie is so creepy. Makes you not want any children at all. This would be a perfect form of birth control damn." Layla exclaimed and everyone chuckled.

"What? No kids? Your telling me you don't want an army of curly brown haired Munson's running around, Lays?"

"I love you Eddie...believe me I do...but your as much Munson as I can handle."

"Aww dang princess....I was kinda hoping to knock you up one day and you'd be mine forever!"

"Oh is that so? What you want me barefoot and pregnant wearing your band tees and blasting Ozzy on your headphones over my fat belly?"

"Actually....yah...that sounds pretty awesome."

"Hmm...I'll have to think about it. If I get knocked up it means your stuck with me Munson."

Eddie smiles and plants a big kiss on Layla's lips.

"Well if your going to be responsible parents, Eddie's going to have to give up his side business. Drug dealer Dad doesn't have a good ring to it." Steve chimed in.

"Oh like there aren't drug dealing parents, Harrington. Get off my ass about that."

" Oh he meant nothing by it Eddie, don't be so sensitive. If we have psycho kids like these brats on tv, I'm going to need weed to mellow me out!"

Eddie and Steve raised their beers and shouted "Here here!"

"Well....if gonna be pregnant in the near future....I should take advantage of those wonderful drugs my one day baby Daddy sells....I need that weed!"

"Wait hey I kinda need that to make money babe! How am I gonna support the army of Munson's?"

"Oh! I'll pay for it then! Jeez!"

"As if I want your rich girl money..."

"Fuck you! This my money from the record store. But if your so butt hurt about me paying...I can think of another way to pay." Layla curls her tongue and starts running her finger down Eddie's chest down to his stomach.

"Jesus, babe you don't need to whore yourself out for drugs ill get you a joint damn."

"Woo! Let's go Steve! Time for drugs!"

Layla grabs Steve's hand and dances with him down the hall to Eddie's room.

The three of them make themselves comfortable on Eddie's bed and begin passing around the joint. It doesn't take long for it to kick in because Eddie apparently has the good shit. Layla gets up out of bed and turns on Ozzy's Blizzard of Oz album and starts dancing to her favourite song "I Don't Know".

Layla's cropped cut off tee that fell off one shoulder kept rising up every time she put her hands in the air. It would go up high enough that the underside of her black bra was showing, not to mention it was tight since she was well endowed. As she swayed her hips, Steve couldn't help but be mesmerised by every curve.

"Wait...so your smokin' hot, cool, rich girlfriend also likes metal?"

"Hell fucking yah Harrington! My girls always had great taste...I mean come on...look at me!" Eddie laughs.

"Lays, do you actually enjoy this or you just putting on a show for your man to make him happy?"

"A show? Are you serious? I love rock n roll. I'm more into 70's bands but these artists of today developed from greatest bands of all time....Queen, Led Zeppelin, The Who, freakin' Jimi Hendrix! Ozzy and Eddie's beloved Dio originated from Black Sabbath ...a prominent band in the 70's. Not to mention Ozzy has one of the most recognisable voices in any genre and his talent is proved once he went out on his own and nothing will ever stop him."

Steve is completely shocked while Eddie starts clapping his hands and exclaims with the joint still in his mouth "My girlfriend ladies and gentlemen! The bad ass, metal chick alive!"

"Wow, I didn't realise you were so passionate about music."

"Oh I've always been. Parentals wanted me to be an exemplary young lady and had me learn cello and piano when I was young. I won't lie I rocked the shit out of some Saint-Saens."

"Who?" Both boys responded.

"Oh you uncultured cochons you need to educate yourselves and expand your minds to more than one type of music."

"Umm Steve...I think she's insulting us."

"You know what...I think your right...perhaps we should teach her a lesson that it's not nice to be rude."

Eddie and Steve looked at each other with squinted eyes and wicked smiles.

"What are two doing?" Layla looked scared and was starting to back up but then the boys quickly grabbed her and threw her on the bed and began an all out tickle war.

"Ah!! Omg stop! Stop! Holy shit! I can't take it!!" Layla squirmed around and laughed while trying to get away.

The boys eventually stopped after Layla threatened to kick them both in the balls.

"Oh come on Princess we were just having fun. You were being rude and we had to punish you." Said Eddie wiping his curls from his face.

"If you want to punish then fine but not tickling that's a hard no!"

"Well how should we punish you, baby girl?" Eddie had a look on his face that Layla has seen many times before and she knew exactly what he meant. She was sure he was about to kick Harrington out...but he kept going.

"Maybe we need to tie you up so you can't escape."

Steve wasn't sure why Eddie kept saying "we" but he brushed it up to the weed.

"Grab the cuffs over there while I hold her down, Harrington."

What the fuck? Steve thought but he just went along with it.

Giving the cuffs to Steve, Eddie latched them around Layla's wrists and above her head.

"Now Steve, what do you think the ultimate form of punishment is?"

Steve was too high and confused to think so he shrugged his shoulders.

"Well I say it's when your so fucking horny and you can't touch yourself."

Steve was very confused by this point and asked if he should leave.

"Yah but if you leave who's going to keep her hands above her head?"

Was this actually happening? Was Eddie really going to let Steve sit there and watch these two have sex? Would he be involved? Something felt odd yet thrilling at the same time.

Eddie began to lift up Layla's shirt to expose those beautiful, massive breasts that Steve had been dreaming about seeing all night. He covered her eyes with the shirt so she couldn't see. He placed soft, sweet kisses on her cheek, neck, collarbone, and down her cleavage. He started massaging her breasts before taking one out at a time. Steve's mouth opened slightly and his cock started to twitch. Eddie squeezed her nipples while Layla let out a soft moan. He then took one nipple in his mouth and began to suckle hard. Layla moaned louder as she arched her back as if begging for more. Eddie lifted up his shirt and threw it across the room. He trailed more kisses down Layla's ribs and stomach as she yelped from the slight tickle of Eddie's pouty lips and breath. He proceeded to undue her shorts button and zipper then slid them down taking her pink thong with them.

Steve couldn't look away at Layla's perfect pink pussy and his cock started to ache under his tight jeans.

"You can go ahead and take those off my man...we don't need that famous Harrington cock getting scratched to death by your zipper."

"Are you sure dude? Your both comfortable with this?"

"Do what he says Steve and just shut off your brain for a damn second."

Steve takes off his jeans quickly along with his boxer shorts. He is almost at full mast and when he grabs his cock it's quite painful.

Eddie teases Layla while swirling his tongue around her belly button then down her inner thighs.

"Omg Eddie just lick my pussy already i can't take it anymore."

"Oh is that what you want? Perhaps I shouldn't since you were so rude before to me and Steve. You can be rude all you want to me because I'm already head over heels for you...but you don't insult our guests. Now apologise to Steve."

"I'm sorry Steve...I didn't mean to be an entitled brat and-"

"Not with your words Princess...with your mouth. Open up that pretty mouth of yours wide since apparently Harrington's got a hog in his pants."

Steve didn't even question Eddie this time, he was too turned on and needed Layla's wet, warm mouth around his cock. He crawled over to the head of the bed and placed his cock in her mouth. The feeling was indescribable and Steve was concentrating as hard as he could to not instantly cum...he wanted this to last as long as possible. Steve slid his cock in and out of Layla's mouth slowly as Eddie stared at her aching, dripping cunt waiting for the perfect time to pounce.

Layla moaned loudly once Eddie placed his mouth on her pussy and licking furiously at her clit. The vibrations of her moan weren't helping Steve's situation and he was ready to burst at any second. Eddie licked his ring fingers and slowly entered them into Layla's tight cunt. With Steve's cock in her mouth, Eddie licking her clit, and finger fucking her..she was about to burst any second. Steve's thrusts got faster and deeper down Layla's throat making her gag a little.

"Oh fuck. I'm going to cum! Oh shit!"

"Make her swallow every drop Steve!"

He didn't know why but hearing Eddie say that was the ticket to his release and Steve unloaded all his cum into Layla's mouth and down her throat. He fell on his back and needed to breath from the intensity.

Eddie's fingers started to go in and out of Layla faster. She made the most sensual groans Steve had ever heard which surprisingly made him hard again. He was becoming insatiable and wanted more.

"My baby's about to come real soon Steve...you better get down here and get a taste. I guarantee it's the best tasting pussy you've ever had."

Eddie continued to finger fuck Layla as Steve went down to the end of the bed.

Eddie stopped for a second to stretch open and display Layla's perfect pink pussy.

"Now tell me that's not a work of art."

"My God man you weren't kidding."

"So have a taste already!"

Steve dove down into Layla, he opened up her needy hole and got his tongue as far as he could inside of her. It was the greatest he's ever tasted and for a second grew jealous of Eddie who could have this whenever he wanted. She tasted of honey and sunshine. She was getting so wet it was dripping down Steve's throat. Eddie began to lick her clit when she screamed "Oh my fucking fuck I'm going to come so hard. Oh god oh god keep going I'm so close!"

Then like a rushing wave, Layla's release came in such a strong force that she squirted all over Eddie and Steve's face-as well as the floor.

"Woo! Good job babe!"

She lifted up her shirt and said "Ok that's it get these damn handcuffs of me...I'm in charge now."

"Yes ma'am." Eddie said while he grabbed the key and unlocked the cuffs.

"Pants off Munson!" Didn't have to tell him twice as Eddie unbuckled so fast and his pants dropped to the floor. She had Eddie and Steve sit on the bed as she went back and forth sucking both of their cocks. After a couple minutes, Layla grabbed both of their cocks and said "Now, I want both of you to kiss."

"Wait what?!?!" Yelled the boys.

"Hey! As far as I see it...I quite literally have you both by the balls....I'd listen to me. Besides...I said I was in charge...now kiss before I decide I'd rather have you suck each other off."

Eddie and Steve both looked at each other reluctantly.

"Today ladies or I stop stroking."

Eddie places his hand on Steve's cheek and tilts his head to the right as he slowly plants a soft peck on Steve's lips. They pause and stare at each other for a second before closing their eyes and properly make out. Their tongues massaging each other over and over as mild moans escaped. Eddie than rolls on top of Steve and begins grinding his cock on Steve's leg. Layla crawls on the bed admiring the two gorgeous naked men fondling each other. A smirk develops on her face as Eddie starts kissing and sucking Steve's neck and then down his chest. Steve arches his head upwards and moans loudly from the intensity of it all. It felt so wrong...so taboo...but dammit he didn't want Eddie to stop. Eddie begins to move further down Steve's torso when he finally stops at Steve's stiff, aching shaft. He plants small kisses around it then swallows it entirely. Layla's jaw drops...she never thought she'd see her boyfriend with a dick in his mouth. It was...by far...the hottest thing she's ever seen. Her hand trails down to pussy, she slips two fingers in to find out she's insanely wet.

Eddie's head goes up as he says "Get a condom Lays, some lube, and then sit on Harringtons face."

"Im very into the face sitting idea but I don't get why we need lube. Aren't you wet enough?"

"Oh poor, sweet, clueless Steve. Just lay there and relax...it hurts more if your tense...trust me...Eddie likes coming in the back door."

Eddie laughs. "Ha. That's pretty funny Lays."

Layla crawls up the bed and straddles Steve's face.

"Mmm. I've always wanted to grab your famous quaff as I rode your face Steve."

Layla starts grinding Steve's face as he laps his tongue all over her wet pussy drinking up ever drop. Steve puts his arms under her legs and grabs on so he can push her closer to his face. Steve becomes so engaged in how good Layla's cunt is that he completely forgot the fact that he was about to be butt fucked.

Eddie squirted the lube over his cock and his fingers as he did a "practice round" in Steve's tight, puckered ass. He wasn't even sure if Steve noticed what he did. He then slowly enters Steve since he wasn't accustomed yet to Eddie's girth. Steve's eyes shot open as Layla said it was ok and to just breathe. The more and more Eddie went inside, the more intense he ate Layla. Eddie was now fully inside Steve as he pumped in and out. Steve's mind was racing trying to comprehend all that was happening. He was eating out one of the hottest girls he'd ever seen and being fucked in the ass by the only guy who ever made him question his sexuality (ok maybe not the only guy...those after game showers with Billy were...ummm...interesting.)

Steve wasn't going to last for long but he did everything in his power to not come...he didn't want this to end.

"Oh fuck! Suck on my clit Steve I'm so close!!"

Eddie was close as well and he started fucking Steve faster and faster. Seconds later, the three of them came together nearly milliseconds apart from each other like they were one person. Eddie ripped off the condom and crawled up the bed looking feral as he flipped Layla on her stomach. He buried his face in her pussy making sure to clean her up completely. He grabbed another condom and tossed it to Steve.

"It's time for you to do some fucking. You go in the back and I'll go in the front. Let's see if my girl can take two dudes at the same time." Steve sat on the bed with his back to the wall while Layla slowly entered his cock in her ass, leaning back into Steve's chest as Eddie slid his cock inside her pussy. Her eyes rolled in the back of her head, "Holy fuck this feels so good. Omg it's making me dizzy. I'm getting so stretched."

Their rhythm was a perfect flow as if they'd done this a million times. Eddie sucked on Layla's nipples as she leaned her head back to kiss Steve. The pleasure was so intense that they all fell over onto the bed with Steve on his back and Layla sandwiched between him and Eddie. Steve's hands rested on Layla's hips as he bucked his own faster. Eddie's hands placed on both sides of them as he picked up the pace. His head rested on Layla's as he stared into her eyes.

"I love you so much babygirl. Your so fucking perfect I'm never letting you go."

"I love you Eddie. Come inside me, breed me...make me yours."

Their moans and "happy screams" were so loud they were sure the whole trailer park heard them but they didn't give a damn.

Steve comes inside Layla and can barely breathe. Layla's release has her practically shaking as Eddie still kept going even after he finished.

Once they could breathe again and speak coherent sentences, Steve goes to find his cigarettes, Eddie bums one and grabs a beer. "Oh! No! Don't move Princess...your man's got you some water and a wet towel." Eddie gently wipes Layla clean as he gives her tiny smooches.

"Damn if the idiots at school knew how sweet and caring their resident freak was."

"I could give a fuck what those sheep think...your the only thing that matters to me."

"Hey...it's getting late I should head off..."

"Oh hell no Harrington your not going anywhere...who's to say I won't want both my boys in the morning."

Layla kisses both of them as they crawl under the blankets.

"Now I've not only slept with a princess but also a king."

"Well if im a King and she's a princess what does that make you?"

"Shit. I don't know. I always saw myself as the court jester." Eddie laughs.

"Well I think after tonight...you are both Kings...and I'm definitely no innocent princess anymore....because now this bitch is a Queen."

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steve harrington smut #steddie smut #steddie x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction #layla riley oc

[hammerhead-jpg]

Idk if I'm ever gonna finish the refs for my redacted ocs, but here are their logos

I could make some doodles of their designs or smth idk....

I wrote some info about them under the cut if ya curious (that ended up being a lot longer than I expected so behold)

Taurus

I already made a ref sheet for Taurus so I already wrote down some info about him there so you can go see that if you wanna

I can only imagine since I established that he's friends or at least knows every single redacted de(a)mon and also is a part of the chorus that if he would be on the redacted channel he'd successfully force himself into practically every storyline.

Practically all redacted ocs that I made I more imagine as side characters than as "main" characters so they don't really have a listener, but I guess his listener would technically be freelancer.

I imagine he remembers the cacophony well, even though he wants to forget it.

Gin Asari

I'm very aware that Gin wouldn't really work as a character since, to be a sibling to a listener would mean to not have them have a distinct background, race or gender (or at least agab) since this is specifically an identical twin brother, because unless them and the listener are not blood related (and in this case they are) the characters background, race and gender would allude to the listeners background, race and gender which you're not supposed to do. But because I have already made up the listeners background race and gender as if they were an oc as most people do, I haven't really thought about this.

Anyways, this is Gin Asari! Lovely's twin brother! And if you haven't noticed they are the main character of the oc fic I wrote some time ago. I actually made 4 more chapters for that fic but didn't post it since I thought it wasn't good enough and also people hate fics written in first person for some reason.

I don't really remember why I made this oc either, I guess just because I wanted to explore the idea of a electro-energetic baddy, even though they don't really have their electric powers yet since they haven't experienced a traumatic enough experience and Lovely hasn't told them in fear that they would try to traumatize themselves on purpose to get them. I also wanted to explore Adam's backstory through them (btw I fucking struggled to make the timelines align to find out what age they are).

For those of you who haven't read the fic ("the fic" meaning also the chapters I didn't publish so I guess that's like all of you) here's a quick summary: Lovely's twin brother (who at this point isn't in contact with Lovely since Lovely ran away from their parents when they were 16) is chilling in med school with their roommate: Adam Jessup. That is, all until Adam disappears one day and is found dead in a car crash, except, Adam didn't really die and he just got turned willingly. Adam returns one year later by sneaking into Gin's room. There, Adam descides to feed on them and after realizing they're willing to let him feed on them, let's them live and starts a very unhealthy relationship where he returns to feed on them every week or so. That is until he gets addicted to their humanborn latent electro energetic blood and every week or so becomes every night. The induced anemia and stress from overworking themselves due to their parent's high expectations, Gin's mental state starts to decline. That is until they find out that Adam is a literal serial killer and he basically tries to murder them since they didn't want to continue their relationship. They run away to Dahlia, both from him and from their parents, until a couple of years later they meet Lovely, now a vampire, by chance, and they catch up and learn that Adam has been upgraded to a decapitated skeleton under a broken down rollercoaster.

I realize that I mostly wrote their backstory and not their current story, like I don't really know what happens after they catch up with Lovely. Do they descide to keep in touch with the Solaire clan or do they go back to their normal life? Does Lovely tell them about the whole electric energetic thing? Do they befriend the other vampires? I don't know! I haven't decided yet.

Methuselah

I'm trying to figure out what this fool's nickname would be besides just Meth.

I thought to myself "what was the first de(a)mon created like? What are they doing?" So I started brainstorming ideas until they eventually became an oc.

So Methuselah (named after the oldest known star, I wanted to be the first star given a name but all that popped up was the oldest star), an inchoate, the first created demon, the one who has lived for thousands of years, fought in the cacophony and created the chorus and serve as kind of a makeshift leader of it.

Some may say that Meth here is what you would call a mary sue but you know as they say when I create a character that's the world's best assassin, a science experiment possessed by a god of anger who has a corrupted form that slowly kills them when they use it, they get called a Mary Sue, but when Asagiri Kafka does it it's "I love Chuuya Nakahara!!"

If Taurus is jaded by his long ongoing life Methuselah is the most jaded of them all. Just basically barely cares about the things going around them. Even if they did care about keeping relationships everyone except some of the chorus members is scared of them due to their overwhelming power, both magical and political.

When the ruling council descided to include de(a)mons in it they were the first demon asked if they would want to join as a representative for inchoate demons their response was to spit in their face and say "was that the answer you were looking for?"

I imagine that they are currently dealing with the whole Hush situation, and that in the first time in thousands of years, they're scared of death. After the cacophony in which they almost died, saw many deaths including the death of their first and only friend, they thought that if another life threatening situation occurred they wouldn't be scared to die for the cause, but now that they're faced with a person that is not only stronger than them but could kill them in a second, they're scared of death after so many years of being untouchable.

Miles Deen

One time, my lovely mutual @cyc-chilla once said in a post about wether or not redacted characters get biches, that Frederick only seems to attract extremely shady and terribly shifty dumpster opossum men, and I thought to myself "he absolutely does"

So Miles Deen was born.

If you identify as a garbage dwelling raccoon trash goblin you obviously haven't met Miles

The icon of the two bandaids and the description of "the thrall" doesn't encapsulate him well enough, it should've been an icon of a garbage can and he should've been titled "the trash dweller" if I wanted to be accurate.

Basically, Miles is an informed unempowered guy who was a couple of years ago attacked by a shade, but instead of having all of his life force drained, he only got half of his life force drained and later found out via seer that he would only live to 27 (he's currently 25, 21 when he found out)

He's also homeless because he got kicked out of his parents house after he couldn't find a job due to his clinical depression, so as you can imagine his life wasn't looking too good.

But, he descided to keep living and use the fact that he's going to die young as a motivator to live without fear and also made a bucket list of things he wanted to do before he died.

One of those things was being fed on by a vamp, and that is how he finds himself on Solaire clan territory and is found by Fred. The rest is history.

Fred is convinced he is insane but he kinda likes that about him. Bright eyes does not like him at all.

He somehow always gets himself into trouble and then the clan is forced to protect him in all kinds of batshit situations.

If he was actually on the redacted channel, he'd probably never appear or would maybe be mentioned by name once, just because I descided to make a character for a deleted discontinued series.

Sadly, I think his story probably would end with him dying peacefully in his sleep, since he wouldn't want to get turned and him getting turned would be kinda a stupid thing writing wise since it's kinda stupid to build up the idea of a character dying only to have them live anyway (and his whole character is built on the idea that he's going to die young)

Ezra Solaire

One day, I thought to myself "Christian needs a gay awakening" and so he did.

Ezra is a cayote shifter and part of the Solaire clan, raised by William since birth.

He seems very sweet, and he is but he's also brutally honest.

He'd never let a vamp feed on him (William even set up that you are to be executed if you attempt to feed on him without his permission) but he does donate blood to the clan often. He has so many "I donated blood" stickers.

I imagine he's friends with Darlin', which is how he ended up meeting the Shaw pack

I keep thinking about what his talk with William would be like after the summit, cause it would be absolutely heartbreaking

Because I imagine Ezra was one of the people that wasn't told about the plan, so with Ezra who just wanted a normal life, now learning that the Solaire clan which they already didn't like being in since about 90% of the clan didn't like them, is/is going to become some sort of vigilante assassin squad and also feeling like their relationship with the Shaw pack is destroyed, the place where they actually felt like they had a normal life and a family, I can only imagine how upset they'd be.

But on the other hand, William is like a father to him and he couldn't imagine how it would be to leave him, and he'd also be leaving behind the few people he was close friends with in the clan (like Vincent) and he also wouldn't think it would be right to have William supporting him financially with a house and a job when he was leaving the clan, so he would have not only have his financial and social support cut, but also physical since, I forgot to mention but, he has multiple sclerosis and is disabled, so he sometimes needs a caregiver to help him do everyday tasks (which would usually be by William, Vincent or an assistant William hired). So yeah, I can only imagine how he must feel.

Atlas Madden

Watch out John I'm stealing your name or smth

To be completely transparent, I did create Atlas just to ship him with Scorpius. I know I'm cringe but I'm free

Atlas is a freelancer who works as a healer, but also has an interest in water magic and shifter magic. How is a non-shifter good at shifter magic? He isn't! He likes morphing into a disturbing half wolf half human creature and scaring people in it!

So umm I may have brainstormed Scorpiuses backstory on a whim by accident...whoops...hate when that happens

So going forward any Scorpius lore I drop is my headcannons and not actual lore

I swear this is important to Atlas

Okay so: I imagine that before being captured by close knit Scorpius worked in this kind of strip club where the whole shtick was that incubi were the strippers. The strippers weren't also escorts but if they chose you you could potentially go home with them.

That's how Scorpius and Atlas met.

Atlases friends brought him to this strip club mostly as a joke and Atlas was kinda uncomfortable the whole time.

Until he caught Scorpiuses eye, who then decided to enact his flirt persona and bring him home.

After that, Atlas eventually became his charge and they would meet every so often.

They both agreed for no strings attached, Scorpius didn't really like hookup culture but needed to get energy one way or another, but Atlas wanted him to know that he respected him as a person and wanted them to be at least friends.

One day, Atlas pushed the friendliness a little too far and Scorpius told him that he doesn't need to try to appeal to him so he could feel like a good person. Atlas got offended by this because he really just wanted to be nice, not because he wanted to pat himself on the back.

An argument ensued and Scorpius left without getting an energy feeding. He went on, trying to find somebody else to feed on, and that is when he gets tricked and captured by close knit. With no way to communicate to Atlas, Atlas believes Scorpius left him for good.

I have a lot more planned out for them but that takes place after Scorpius leaves the basement, which as you can see he hasn't yet, so I'm obviously waiting til that happens so I'm not writing lore for something that hasn't happened yet.

So um yeah

#redacted oc #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse