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hipstergecko · 6 months

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Okay people! DP X DC idea time!

This hit me like a trainwreck and I must release it into the wild. Will I write this properly one day?

Anyway!

Let's think about sensory deprivation tanks. Danny phantom. What if the thermos acted like one? It was only meant for short term storage. What if the Fenton's built a coffin like one meant for long term?

And they caught Danny first?

—---

The Fenton's newest invention "ghost in a box" had caught him. It was a dumber bigger heavier version of the thermos and somehow they managed to catch him right as he was falling to earth after a nasty hit to the jaw from the latest ghost of the week.

He propped himself up on his elbows and hissed through his teeth. Better to get out of this box quickly. His parents probably couldn't handle this guy. Using the bright glow of his eyes, he examined the inside of his new holding cell. It was fairly big. Big enough for him to roll about and prop himself up on his elbows. There was 10 inches or so of watery ectoplasm sloshing around him as he moved and shifted. Surprisingly comfy too. At least compared to the cramped space of the thermos.

Without the glow of his eyes it was dark. Completely dark. The kind of dark that makes you wonder if you really had that hand on front of your face. And it was quiet. The only sounds were the faint sloshing of the ectoplasm and his own breathing.

He saw the faint line of the lid and tried with all his might to push it open. His ghostly strength didn't seem to do much. He was panting by the time he decided to try to phase through it instead. He ended up with a sore head for his efforts. Airtight, watertight and ghost proof.

There was no way out.

He tried his phone which had luckily enough survived the fight.

No service.

Danny sighed heavily and lay back in the water, staring at his phone with a tired frown. So much for luck. Hopefully, Tucker, Sam, or Jazz would break him out before school tomorrow.

The silence was so strange. He'd never been somewhere this quiet before. Even the ghost zone at its most peaceful had the sounds of flowing ectoplasmic winds. He felt his eyelids fall shut as he slipped into a doze. He was frankly exhausted from everything that had happened that day and needed a nap. So he took one as he waited for someone to open the box.

But Nobody did. Nobody could. Apart from his friends and sister, nobody cared to.

You see, immediately upon his capture, the elder Fentons rushed the box back to the lab for testing. After several hours they had declared the invention a success. As long as no one opened the box, the ghost couldn't escape.

Meanwhile Tucker, Sam, and Jazz were consumed with worry. They hadn't seen Danny get captured, but after Jack and Maddie proclaimed Phantom was caught the next day on the news, they feared the worst.

Jazz confronted her parents about Phantom in the box, but she was kindly and lovingly dismissed. You see, they had given it some thought and finally agreed with their daughter that ghosts too dangerous to be studied should just be caught and dealt with humanely. A compromise. Sure they couldn't do all the tests they wanted, but they would rather have their town and family safe.

The "Ghost in a box" was equipped with noise canceling movement dampening ecto-sustaining technology. In essence a sensory deprivation tank. The ghost would be kept safe until they were docile enough to be released for study or simply turned back into base ectoplasm to be recycled for something else.

But they didn't know about cores.

And they didn't know about Danny.

Cores would not dissipate like regular formless ectoplasm. They would remain even as the physical form of the ghost melted away as their consciousness faded into everything and nothing within the box.

But Danny wouldn't. Jazz knew that Danny couldn't.

A core wasn't made to house a human. A ghost, who was the personification of a person's emotions the moment they died, a being made of obsession, could be condensed and made dormant inside the fragile safety of a core. But a human flesh and bone body? A heartbeat? He would always be there. Able to be sucked in a thermos, yes. Ghost in a box, yes. His ghostly abilities made him pliable enough. But into his core? Never going to happen.

His heart and core were very different, but worked together in harmony. Neither could exist without the other. Neither could be taken out without issue. (The ghost catcher notwithstanding. Freaky duplication personality splitting weirdness) Should his heart vanish into the core, it would die. Hearts do not take compression and dormancy well. Should his heart be removed, the core would have no filter and overtake the body, burning it into pure ectoplasmic fire.

Danny was the perfect balance. His heart strengthened his core and his core energized his heart. He could not be easily shattered or dissipated. But this meant he also could not retreat into his core when his mind or body failed him.

He had to remain fully formed. Fully in ghost form. The ectoplasm that was being cycled through the box made sure he was stable, but he would suffocate and starve if he became human.

He was well and truly stuck.

Jazz begged and pleaded with them to let him go. The psychological damage would be so severe if he stayed in longer than a few hours. But their success had blinded them to the point of pride. Instead they praised her for her empathy and willingness to study the obsessions ghosts were known for.

They only really started listening to her after Danny had been missing for an entire week. And even then it was just a call to the police and a search to hunt "they ghost who took our baby boy".

(Did Jazz ever break down and tell her parents the truth? Who knows.)

Perhaps the worst part was that his loved ones couldn't even get to the box. It had been locked up in some government facility almost immediately after the Fenton's announced their success. The patent was sold to the government for a truly amazing amount of money.

Danny was out of reach.

It was only after months of petitioning and rallying and absolutely threatening Vlad with ruining his political reputation, Sam was able to gain access to the box to "see for herself if they were truly as humane as the Fenton's claimed". She had 20 minutes with the box and she and Tucker did everything they could to open it.

Nothing worked. No hacking or code they tried could open it. They had no power tools or weapons to try attacking it with. For 20 minutes they tried.

For 20 minutes they failed.

There was nothing they could do. They were escorted from the premises kicking and screaming.

Meanwhile the product went viral. Some opposed it, some praised it. The Fentons became famous for the "ghost in a box". Soon they were available widespread. Ghosts were being caught left and right and safely contained. most of whom were peacefully living out their afterlives in their chosen haunt.

Many ghosts were caught actively seeking Phantom. Skulker, Ember, some invisible ghost kid, a great hairy looking wolf man, and more. Ghosts were being caught all over the country. None of them could escape once they were put in the box. And none of the other ghosts knew what was truly happening to their kind. They only knew that if you went into the human realm, you didn't come back.

Surprisingly enough, Vlad was eventually the one to put a stop to it. By forcibly closing the portals. The Fentons were too busy with their manic search for their son to rebuild their own portal. (And even if they tried after jazz told them the truth, would it have even worked?) His own portal was hardly ever used anymore. Mostly because alongside the "ghost in a box", the Fenton finder and ectoplasmic tracker were also extremely popular tools for ghost catching. It was too risky to activate his personal portal. If he was caught, he was as good as dead.

But he too was eventually caught.

Somebody had finally looked into his shady dealings. Suspicious of him, and not wanting to rule out anything ghostly, they opened a box on him during a packers game.

He never saw it coming.

Eventually almost every ghost people across the world knew of were caught. The U.S. government paid for the boxes and had them categorized and stored deep underground in a ghost proof facility that slowly faded from history.

But what about Danny?

Let's ask a different question. Do you know what happens when a human stays too long without sensory input?

The hallucinations started when his phone battery gave out.

—————

The justice league had been an entity for quite some time now. Long enough that they felt secure in digging down into the underbelly of various world governments to root out world ending threats at the source. Especially after what had been going on with CADMUS and their government sanctioned cloning operation.

Someone (the flash? Batman? TBD) finds old records of a bunker buried deep under the earth full of something called "ectoplasmic" radiation. For the safety of the nearby town of Amity Park, they felt the need to dig it up and clean it out.

Upon entering the bunker in full OSHA approved hazmat, they find strange looking boxes. Boxes upon boxes stretching for at least a mile, maybe more if there are sublevels. Each box is labeled with a number. The first one they find is marked 3278 (or some other arbitrary number). All the boxes are sealed tight with no known way to open/dispose of them.

Most of the heroes agree just to let the bunker be. It was sealed and doing no visible harm to anyone or the environment.

But Batman (or other super? Dealer's choice) decides to do a bit more looking.

He stalks through the boxes, noting the numbers, the lights saying 'occupied' and 'dissolved'. Many of the boxes are buried deep. He can really only observe the ones close to the walkways.

He walks all the way to the very bottom. The very end of the bunker. Where there is a solitary box set on a raised platform. It is labeled number 1. The lights flash 'occupied'.

'Corporeal'.

He takes it back to the watchtower for analysis.

——————

The justice league cannot safely open the box. Any attempt to break it open could compromise whatever is inside. Scans do not indicate what could be inside.

More research is done into these boxes. Nothing digital is found. Eventually someone looked through some old offices stationed outside the bunker and finds patents for the boxes. Dr.s Fenton describe in detail what the box does and how to use it. It was meant to never be opened by anyone without the proper DNA match.

Apparently Jack Fenton, understanding that ghosts can possess people (read overshadow) coded the box to reject anything that had human DNA in it. He had to manually override the security to open the boxes. Which included several (read 100) security questions and passwords pertaining to Jack directly.

So only someone completely non human and non ectoplasmic could open the box.

Good thing they had aliens on payroll.

—————

Superman pressed his thumb to the scanner. There was a light beep and a sudden rush of pressurized air. A cheery voice rattled out of a small speaker embedded in the box's control panel.

"Wow! I don't know how you found an alien, but well done! Please enjoy your docile ghost or ectoplasmic goo! Thank you for using the Fenton GHOST IN A BOX! Patent pending please don't sue."

Superman, startled by the sudden voice, took a step back. The lid of the box opened slowly the inside dark. Toxic looking green mist sluggishly broiled out of the box. It spread almost like fog across the floor.

A black hand with abnormally long and skeletal fingers stretched slowly rose out of the mist, rising to grip the side of the box.

All the superheroes were immediately on edge. Hands flying to weapons and dropping into fighting stances. Superman himself jumped back to guard against whatever was coming out of the box.

What emerged was frankly horrifying to look at. A black mass of bulbous limbs and... Tentacles? Were those tentacles? Claws and teeth scrabbled at the edges of the box until the entire bulk of the thing fell from the edge, squelching with whatever liquid had been inside. It hit the floor of the watchtower with a wet sounding thud.

There was an immediate reaction among the heroes.

"Oh gross!"

"That... What IS that?!"

"Eugh..."

"It's not human, that's for sure!"

"Someone find a member of JLD!!"

"Get Constantine up here!"

Amidst the noise the thing on the floor writhed about. All over it's amorphous body, eyes opened. Countless eyes appearing all over it's form. They were the same toxic green color as the mist, but brighter.

The eyes rolled about and winced. The thing shuddered as if in pain and the eyes squeezed shut back into the void. Instead, teeth appeared, countless mouths inside mouths and razor sharp teeth upon teeth. It scrabbled on the floor and opened it's countless mouths.

And screamed.

Heroes threw their hands over their ears in an attempt to stop the sound. Those with enhanced hearing took it the worst. Superman himself was forced to kneel, hands pressing to the sides of his head desperately. It sounded like the screams of the damned. Of someone dying. Of thousands suffering. He couldn't move, couldn't react. It was going to drive him mad if it didn't stop.

It came almost in waves, battering against the triple reinforced windows protecting the inhabitants from space. Lights above their heads popped and broke as sound crashed about the room. Coffee mugs shattered, fuses blew, and the watchtower was plunged into darkness.

With the darkness came a panic. The screaming was unending, debilitating. Some curled into fetal positions, uncaring of their peers. Others tried to run, but with the power gone, doors wouldn't open.

Not many paid attention to the thing on the floor.

It is important to note that in attendance that day alongside batman were a few of his brood. Namely Red Robin and Black Bat. It is also important to note that Black Bat is a hero who is hearing impaired.

So of the heroes in the watchtower that day, Black Bat was the only one to focus on the amorphous thing despite the noise.

She watched the Eldritch horror even as the watchtower fell to darkness. It had too many mouths. Too many eyes. It's form was barely recognizable in the darkness, but as she watched she could see the makings of something humanoid.

It had a discernable head.

She watched it try to open its eyes various times only to see it shriek louder and shut them swiftly. It was in pain? Even though the lights had gone out? She looked at batman and the other heroes. They were screaming and yelling and trying to figure out a course of action.

She looked back at the thing. The sound beat at her ears in waves. Growing ever louder as those around her screamed in pain.

In that moment, Cass had an epiphany.

She lunged across the room, reaching Red Robin almost instantly. She allowed the sound to reach her ears as her hands left them to dig around in Tim's utility belt. She knew he had them, she'd seen him wear them often enough.

Ahah! She triumphantly pulled the headphones from a side pouch. Dick and Jason teased Tim about the headphones when he first got them for working on casefiles. They were the big chunky kind. Designed to fit over the entire ear.

Designed to be noise cancelling

She turned and sprinted towards the thing on the floor with her prize. The closer she got the worse the sound was. It beat on her brain painfully, she could feel a nosebleed trickle down her lip. Still she darted forward. She leapt ito the air, flipping upsidedown as she did. She aimed to the beings... Head? What could've been it's head... And deftly slipped the headphones onto it.

There was a flailing of... Limbs?... In her direction as she sailed through the air. She landed a bit ungracefully as the sound crashed over her again. She covered her ears with her hands and retreated, turning to face the entity as she backed away.

There were hands... Or hand like things... Clutching the headphones. Slowly the screaming dwindled. Soon it was quiet save for the cursing and crying and relief voiced by the heroes.

"Oh thank god!"

"It's over!"

"Ugh my head..."

"Is everyone okay?"

"I understand why they had that thing locked away now."

"Black Bat." Cass turned to see Batman holding his head in one hand. "What did you do?"

Cass mimed putting the headphones on. "Overstimulation." She said simply.

"What do you mean?" Batman looked to the entity. His eyes narrowed at the way it clung to the headphones. His gaze swiveled to the inky darkness of the box. An idea swirled in his brain and he nodded. "Extreme sensory deprivation."

Cass nodded, pleased.

"Batman! What happened? Are you alright?" Superman approached the pair. His voice was raised slightly. Blood dripped from his ears.

"I'm fine Superman." Batman faced him fully, moving his mouth in exaggerated syllables. "But you're not."

Superman smiled sheepishly. "I see you noticed. I can't hear anything right now." He turned towards the entity. "What do we do now? It's clearly too dangerous to simply let free." He turned back to Batman. "With the watchtower out of power the best option we have is to put it back into the box."

"Hnn..." Batman frowned. "I don't think that would work well. Based on how it reacted to light and sound, we can assume that the box was some sort of sensory deprivation tank."

"Sensory deprivation tank?"

"It's a box that cuts off all stimuli from the outside." Red Robin pulled himself off the floor with a groan. "It's a form of extreme isolation. Do you think that's why it was screaming?"

"What?"

Batman ignored Superman. "I believe so. Black Bat was the first to notice."

Red Robin squinted. "Are those my headphones?"

Cass grinned at him. "Useful."

He huffed and passed her a handkerchief from his belt. "You owe me new ones." She giggled silently and took the handkerchief, wiping away the nosebleed.

Batman grunted, gaze shifting back to the writhing mass of black in the darkness. "We'll have to quarantine this room. I don't believe trying to handle the entity would be wise."

"No kidding." Superman winced, putting a hand to his head. "But we won't be able to do much until Cyborg restores power. He was in the control room when the screaming started, right?"

Not a moment after Superman had finished speaking the backup lights came on.

And the shrieking started anew.

Heroes were once again forced to their knees as the sound hit them. Cass wasted no time and ran towards the entity. It was no longer a roiling bulbous mass, but rather had a partial humanoid form. A clear and present head and shoulders, thin long arms with hands clasped around the headphones.

She didn't know where it's eyes were supposed to be, but she didn't bother taking the time to figure it out. She ripped her cape from her shoulders and flung it over top of the entity. There was an immediate flailing of limbs and tentacles as it tried to get the offending object off.

Cass worked quickly. Pulling a blindfold from her belt, she wrapped it swiftly around the "head" of the thing in front of her. The knot was tied equally as fast, but before she could pull away, her hands were caught.

Long, impossibly long fingers held her hands in a vice grip. They were icy. So cold that it felt like her skin was burning.

But the screaming stopped.

"Black Bat!"

Cass ignored Red Robin's cry and Batman's frantic run towards her.

The entity had stilled.

It's limbs shrunk instantly, leaving almost normally proportioned arms and legs. The tentacles shrank away to nothing. The claws and fangs receding with them. The grip on her hands turned gentle, the fingers shrinking to a normal, proportional size.

Cass's eyes darted to Batman, stopping him just before he reached her. She shook her head minutely. This thing was not hostile.

It was scared.

Cass turned her gaze back to the thing and watched, tense as the fingers slowly ran up and down her hand. It felt her wrist, palm and fingers.

Slowly, the blackness faded into color. Blinding white hair fluttered with an unseen breeze. Skin tan underneath the headphones and blindfold. A tattered jumpsuit in black and white stained green.

A nose peeked out from under the blindfold. A pair of lips, thin and chapped. Freckles dotted what she could see of the cheeks.

It looked young. A young humanoid. It probably wasn't human at all but, the similarities were there. It looked like a boy. Younger than Tim, but older than Damien.

He looked thin. She traced the line of his ribs with her eyes. She would see where his hip bones jutted out. He was emaciated. Or very nearly. He looked as of he'd been starving.

She head Batman shift as he knelt beside her. She knew he'd seen it too. This boy had been tortured in extreme isolation. What had happened to him?

He didn't speak. She didn't really expect him to. He searched her hands for a moment more, before his hands stilled. Then, slowly, carefully, his fingers intertwined with hers. He gave a gentle squeeze.

She squeezed back.

The blindfold covering his eyes grew wet. The wetness seeped down the blindfold and dripped to the floor.

The boy was crying.

"You're real." Came a raspy whisper.

There was a flash of bright white light and suddenly a very starved human boy was collapsing into Cass's arms.

—————

(Cass looked up at Bruce with wide eyes, cradling the boy to herself. He now had pale skin, tattered blue jeans and a worn T-shirt. His tousled black hair was grimy with filth. Dark circles shadowed long dark eyelashes and hollowed cheeks.

Cass was suddenly sure. Whatever he was, he was hers now.

"New baby brother."

Batman sighed heavily.)

————-—

Aaaaaand I have more? Maybe? Like the idea that he has gone crazy and lost his senses for a time really appealed to me. Cue rehabilitation and him trying to free the other ghosts/Vlad and get them back to the ghost zone. Maybe try to go back in time to stop it all from happening? Idk.

I felt the need to post this before I dedicated too much time to it and wrote a multi chapter fic but never actually post it anywhere. 🫠

Tell me what you thiiiiink.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #black bat #batman #superman #i could wax eloquent on all the ways isolation warps the mind #but for this only surface level things #like “how do ears work again?”#and “what are eyes for again?”#write time #the story i might never write #who knows

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radioactivesweet · 11 months

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Ok hear me out, what about moon god s/o x Poseidon, its been itching my mind cause of the sea x moon troupe.

What i imagine is, s/o being a powerful god like nyx but rarely appears so only a few gods know or saw them so Poseidon became curious about this mysterious (beautiful) god. Feel free to add more about this!! im just really craving for someone to write this 🥹

Uhhh I like this concept a lot!! I tried to keep the reader's gender kinda neutral, I hope it's fine^^ btw I really enjoyed writing this!

word count: 1.2k

Poseidon often found himself staring at the moon. He couldn't really explain why he would do that - not that anybody would dare asking the God of the Sea what he was doing. Unbothered, Poseidon would stand silenty on the ivory balcony, looking up to that apparently endless sky. Even for someone like him that domain appeared far and full of mystery.

It was a dark night, its only beam being the peaceful and perlescent light emanated by the sleeping moon. He was once told that a god inhabited the moon, far from all other living beings. It wasn't known the reason why the deity ended up there, observing humankind from the satellite. Some believed they refused to get involved with human affairs and chose to live as a hermit instead; others claimed the god was exiled and was cursed to live on their own, bound to live in loneliness; some believed that god to have died long ago, the moonlight being their only inheritance, the memento of a god who existed no more, the reminder of a otherwise forgotten past.

Poseidon, everytime he would look at the moon, would wonder the real story behind it. None of the moon goddesses he knew could give him a response, despite asking themselves the same question - with whom were they sharing their moon? A god, a ghost or nothing at all?

Not knowing made the God of the Sea restless. He wasn't supposed to be this ignorant - it was his duty and right to know the truth. Yet, all he knew didn't make sense to him at all. He couldn't find a reason why a god would choose to abandon their place a seek shelter on the moon; if a deity was trapped on the moon, he would have surely heard of it somehow. It wouldn't have been just a rumour; lastly, gods weren't meant to die, it wasn't their nature. They didn't have an expire date nor any time limits, so it was impossible to begin with. If there really were someone looking down on him from the moon, Poseidon would discover it.

Poseidon spent that whole night reading books and looking for information regarding the legends surrounding that mysterious and mystical figure. There weren't many references and he couldn't even find the name of that god, yet there were reported some events which most likely involved them. A beautiful deity whose melancholic face was reflected on the moon on certain nights, someone wearing a silvery armor while riding a shining chariot across the sky. Also, a powerful god who could conceal the sun and the earth. A god capable of moving the stars and making humans into constellations. A god who could flex the tides to their own amusement - which meant disturbing the God of the Sea too - the moon phases and the sea had always been strictly connected to one another, but the thought of someone directly interefering had never crossed his mind. An ancient deity whose name had been long forgotten and all traces canceled, no statues nor temples left, their believers long dead and turned to ashes.

Poseidon was intrigued to say the least. He couldn't recall even if tried the last time he had felt so interested in someone - maybe last time was when he recognised Hades as his brother thousands of years before? He didn't remember anymore, and it didn't really matter to him neither.

Rumours spreaded fast across the Heavens. It was a matter of days before everybody knew what the lonesome Poseidon was looking for, yet nobody dared approaching him nor suggesting him the information that could have helped him reach his objective. Yet, everybody was curious as to why he was interested in that legend in the first place. Poseidon was used to those lower deities' gossips, so he didn't pay them much care, they were nothing more than a bother and wasn't expecting them to act some other way. He was more interested in what certain gods had to say.

Zeus, despite his prestige, knew no more than him but reccomended talking with the goddess Nyx, whom he was afraid of, much more ancient than he was. Hades and Hermes agreed with Zeus and added some rumours that had been circulating for ages in the Underworld regarding a moon deity who lead the souls of the dead to Hades' domain. Beelzebub clearly remembered studying moon's phenoma and seeing that legendary face. They didn't ask him the reason why he was looking for the god. He wouldn't have answered anyway. Without a single word, he left, approaching his next destination, the goddess all gods feared: Nyx.

He respected the goddess, recognising her value and strenght, but didn't understand the reason why even the almighty Zeus feared - he could only suppose it must have been because of one of his many affairs that didn't end the way Zeus imagined. Poseidon didn't have anything to do with that though, therefore had no reason to fear her.

Nyx knew it all, the story of the human who ascended to the skies and then flew even higher above. That god's name was (Y/n), the vagabond of the stars, the hermit who found a home in the dim light of the moon. Poseidon was satisfied by the answers he had finally found - and a way to reach the moon itself. He was close to his goal.

He had finally landed on the moon. Poseidon had never been there before. It was the first time he got to see the sea he ruled from that perspective. It was a foreign feeling to him. He could almost understand the reason why humans tried so hard to leave Earth and reach the space - it was undescribable. He couldn't even blame (Y/n) for hiding in that timeless place. Poseidon felt as he could touch the stars if he only wanted to. And he was just about to do it, if only a sudden voice hadn't interrupted him.

"I've heard someone was looking for me. I don't receive many guests, so I suppose you must be that person." it was quite, almost a whisper. It didn't surprise Poseidon. (T/n) mustn't have had someone to talk to in a long time.

"You are Poseidon, aren't you? You often stare at the moon, I noticed it." a voice comparable to the music of the spheres, the musica universalis, the harmony between the celestial bodies.

(Y/n) seemed to have no material consistence, one with the stars and the deep blue sky surround them, floating on the ground, detached from the earthly beings. Poseidon almost felt unworthy of being before someone surrounded by such a, otherwordly aura, belonging to a different dimension. On the other hand, he was attracted by that holy creature.

"You are welcome here, God of the Seas." almost as if they had read his mind, (Y/n) reassured him "We all belong to the moon, all beings are made of the same stardust. There are no differences between us."

For once, Poseidon, enchanted and bewitched, couldn't reply. He was part of that symphony too - he could feel it resonating deep into his bones.

The everlasting sea below him, the everlasting stars above him. Poseidon felt whole for the first time in his equally everlasting life.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror #record of ragnarok x reader #snv #ror x reader #snv x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #shuumatsu no walkure #poseidon #poseidon x reader #record of ragnarok poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #snv poseidon #poseidon record of ragnarok #poseidon ror

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runnning-outof-time · 4 months

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John & "Listen to yourself.”

Angst to fluff!

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me a bit to get to write it! I hope it’s along the lines of what you were thinking of! Also just try to imagine it’s (Y/N) instead of Esme in the gif - I felt that it fit the scene and couldnt help but use it! Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

But I Got Your Mind Off of It

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, mention of a weapon

Word Count: 1111

Summary: John manages to talk (Y/N) off the ledge before she blows up the longest relationship she has over something so silly…which happens to be something she’s also done before.

The sound of the bang that the door closing made was even loud enough to make John Shelby jump. He scrambled from the table he was sitting at to get over to the concealed hole in the wall where a revolver was nestled. He was just about to access it when he noticed who had slammed the door.

��The fuck was that for, (Y/N)?” he asked his wife, his brows furrowing together in confusion.

(Y/N) didn’t hear him though. She was too busy pacing the floor while muttering unintelligible things. Something about someone being stupid and never wanting to see them again. John wracked his brain for a moment, trying to figure out if it was something that he’d done.

He decided to finally approach her when he came up empty. “What’s goin’ on with you, love?” he asked her, hoping that his voice was level enough so that she wouldn’t get set off…even more than she all already had been.

“I just can’t believe she did that to me,” she finally spoke clear enough for John to hear what she was saying.

“Who did what?” John still didn’t quite understand what was going on.

“Mary,” (Y/N) snapped, as if she was annoyed that John hadn’t come into the conversation with all of the details.

But that didn’t stop John from asking more questions. “What did Mary do?” was his next one.

“She stood me up. We had an entire evening planned and then she cancelled last minute!” she didn’t hesitate in sharing her frustrations, aggravation starkly present in her words.

John furrowed his eyebrows as he took a moment to figure out which way he should approach the situation. (Y/N) was not one to be messed with when she was hot about something, and he hadn’t seen her this worked up in a long time. But before he was able to do anything however, (Y/N) was turning to leave the shop.

“That’s it!” she proclaimed as she made for the door, “I’m going to give her a piece of my mind!” She then started angrily walking towards the door. Just as her left hand reached for the knob, her right was pulled backwards. She gasped as she was spun and within seconds, her back was pressed against the brick wall. Her eyes widened as she looked at her husband, who now had her pinned so that she couldn’t leave.

“You’re not going anywhere…not like this, at least,” he told her, speaking in a calm voice because he knew that if he raised it, all hell would break loose.

“Let me go, John,” she huffed, trying, and failing, to break from his grasp.

“Why did she cancel?” he asked, not giving into her wishes.

Lucky for him, (Y/N) was all for giving the details now. “She ditched me to spend time with her new man. We had this night planned for weeks just to have her call me earlier today saying that he’s asked her out for dinner. She’s ditching me for dinner!” She was fuming by the end of her explanation, all of her anger washing back in again. Who ditches their best friend of over 10 years to have dinner with a guy?? The thought of it was absurd!

John searched her eyes for a moment, waiting to see if she had anything else to add. When she stayed silent, he couldn’t help but break into stiffled laughter. This made (Y/N)’s brows furrow. “What the fuck are you laughing about, John?!” she asked incredulously, not sure if she was now more upset with her friend or her husband.

“Listen to yourself, (Y/N),” he began, surpressing his laughter so that a more serious air would fall over the conversation once more.

“What?” she snapped back at him.

“What Mary’s doing…” he started, shaking his head slightly as he snorted to himself, “you did the exact same thing to her when you started seeing me.”

“I did not!” she immediately proclaimed, shocked that he wasn’t taking her side on this matter.

“You absolutely did,” he stood firm with his point.

“Yeah? When?”

“One of the first dates I took you on. I brought you out for dinner, and you told me that you felt so bad for having to cancel your plans with your best friend.”

“Yeah, but…but I felt bad about it,” (Y/N) was quick to point out.

“You don’t think Mary feels bad about it?” John asked with raised eyebrows.

“At least I didn’t cancel the day of!” she pointed out another - what she at least thought was a - flaw in John’s argument.

“Well maybe unlike your amazingly considerate then-boyfriend, now-husband, her boyfriend doesn’t have the same regards to the possibility that Mary had other plans.”

“You’re so full of yourself, John,” (Y/N) snorted as a smile broke passed the deep frown she was wearing.

“Just stating the facts, love,” he winked at her, making her roll her eyes in response. “But I got your mind off of it, didn’t I?” he questioned then.

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she realized what he’d done. Then she silently cursed him and his ability to make her mood change on a dime. She waited a few moments before she, begrudgingly, replied: “you did.”

“Good. Mission accomplished,” he grinned, finally letting go of her hands so that he could settle both of his under her jaw. “Now what I’m hearing from you is…” he paused, licking his lips as his grin grew bigger, “that you’ve got the night free.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes again, trying so hard to keep up the act that she was angry. But it was so damn hard with him looking at her the way he was. “My night is free now,” she finally answered him.

“Which means you’re able to spend it with me?” he checked.

“You don’t have any duties to carry out at the Garrison?” she responded with a question of her own.

“None that are as important as me wife,” he grinned.

“You can be so cheesy sometimes.”

“But I got your mind off of what you were mad about, didn’t I?”

“Just take me out on the town…before I go and change my mind,” she dismissed his question, though the look on her face told him immediately that he was absolutely right.

“You don’t need to ask me twice,” he grinned before he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. “Let’s go,” he said after pulling away, reaching down to take her hand in his and lead her out of the betting shop.

**tagging in a reblog so the notification gets sent out!

MASTERLIST

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby imagine #john shelby blurb #john shelby fanfic #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #k’s 3.5k celebration

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inmyglenpowellera · 2 months

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Bad Reputation Part 1 | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Taylor Swift inspired!OC

Request: Requested by @akornsworld

Word Count: 3457 words

Summary: There's that saying for some people, “You can't go home again.” When you grow up and leave, that's it, you don't go back home. Presley Joann Benjamin (stage name Presley Jo) believed that was the case for her. Never did she think she would be right back where she started. But her Aunt insisted it was the best for her. She thought for sure her life and career were over until she meets a certain cocky aviator.

Warnings: Alcohol use, angst if you squint, maybe some cursing, fluff, some depression if you squint

A/N: This will be a multipart imagine. Not sure how many chapters there will be yet.

She made it. She was one of the biggest singer/songwriters this generation has ever known. She was a hit pop sensation. She went on tour, her more recent ones going international. She won many awards: Grammy's, Billboard, MTV Awards, VMA's. She had many other accomplishments she was proud of and didn't think she would even come close to experiencing what she had. Things were going great… until they weren't.

Things started to go downhill, and they went downhill fast. Her reputation was ruined. All because she refused to be used and abused in Hollywood. Everything started to fall apart. The cancel culture started to come for her. She was completely lost on what to do. Which is why she disappeared from the public eye.

She didn't answer her phone for days. Her aunt began to lose her mind and flew from San Diego to New York to see if she was even alive. What she didn't expect was to walk into her niece's loft to find her lying in her bed in the dark. Tissues and multiple bottles of alcohol littering the bed and floor. Her aunt knew then and there she couldn't survive this dark period by herself. She forced her up out of bed, demanded she take a shower, and forced her to pack her bags to come home.

Home, the place she hasn't been in about 10 years. When she was still a bright-eyed 20-year-old dreamer. The place where she got her start while working part-time at her aunt's bar as a server. Where her now ex-asshole manager discovered her. Playing and singing her heart out on that old piano in the middle of the bar, entertaining the aviators currently stationed in the area, who she was sure said they “knew her when” when she finally started becoming known.

She can't stop staring at that old piano through her sunglasses from her bar stool.

“Why don't you go play something? The only person who ever touches it anymore is Bradley,” Penny said to her niece, cleaning out a beer glass before placing it with the others.

“No thank you,” Presley said quietly, adjusting her baseball cap on her head.

“Well, can you at least take the hat and glasses off? And look at me when I'm talking to you,” Penny requested, laying her rag on the counter.

Presley huffed and turned around on her bar stool. “I'll take my glasses off and look at you but I'm keeping the hat on.”

“Presley, nobody is here right now,” Penny argued, gesturing around the empty and currently closed bar.

“Exactly, right now. But you know as well as I do that this place will be packed in less than an hour and I really don’t feel like being mobbed considering the current state of my life,” I argued back with her.

“The current state of your life that you are going to get through and fix. You're a Benjamin, nothing can stop us,” She reassured me.

I sighed in response to her words and attempted to slam my forehead down onto the bartop. However, I let out a groan in pain when I just ended up hitting the bill of my ballcap off of it instead. I heard Penny sigh and heard the telltale sound of her walking around the bar and moving to sit on the barstool next to me. She began to run her hand through the ponytail sticking out of the back of my ballcap before speaking.

“Presley, I know what you are going through right now is hard and you may feel like your life is over. But that is so far from the truth. I brought you back here not just because you needed the support, but because you needed to get back in touch with your roots. You may not believe this, but sometimes going back to where it all started helps to see where it all went wrong,” She whispered to me.

I scoffed in reply and lifted my head up. “I know where it all went wrong.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But until then, I want you to at least try to live your life. Stop focusing on what happened and focus on what could be. Don’t worry about writing your next hit or whether you will be invited to the next award show. Focus on spending time with me and Amelia and being normal.”

I stared at her for a moment before nodding with a sigh. “Alright, fine. Where do you want me to start?”

She nodded at me gratefully before standing from the bar stool. “You can start by helping me open the bar. I know you know how to. Go to the stock room and grab what we need and then help me finish the glasses.”

I groaned in annoyance before standing from my chair and moving to do as she asked.

---------

The moment the first person walked into the bar I rushed to push my sunglasses back on my face and kept my head down and I have continued to do so since the bar opened about 30 minutes ago. The place has had people nonstop coming in and out. Aviators, soldiers, and civilians taking up the space around me. The once-quiet bar was slowly becoming louder as more people filtered in and the evening rush slowly began to take hold.

A glass being placed in front of me caused me to look up briefly at the bartender standing there with a smile.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” I smiled back at him.

“This stays between you and me. Your aunt told me not to serve you but I figured one drink wouldn’t hurt,” Jimmy told me, pointing his finger at me as if he was scolding me.

“Don’t worry. She won’t hear it from me,” I reassured him, reaching forward for the drink in front of me.

Jimmy gave me a thankful nod before moving to serve another person. I sighed and took a sip of my drink when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out to see another news article about me. I sighed and clicked on it, frowning at the words glaring back at me.

“Presley Jo: Where is the Princess? Has she run away to hide in her castle?”

“I’m not a princess,” I grumbled to myself, glaring at my phone as someone appeared next to me at the bar.

“Jimmy, I’ll have 6 more, and whatever the “not princess” is having,” a voice with a distinct southern accent spoke up from next to me.

I slightly raised my head and pocketed my phone, looking over at the person standing next to me through my sunglasses before looking over at Jimmy.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary, Jimmy,” I told the old man who nodded at me.

“Aw, c’mon darling. Let a nice man buy a beautiful woman a drink,” He argued with me in his accent, leaning on the bar sideways so he could look at me.

I let out a small giggle and shook my head, looking over at him and looking him over from top to bottom. Sandy blonde hair styled to perfection, bright green eyes shining in the lights of the bar, thin lips pressed into a smirk, and a khaki uniform that causes me to roll my eyes from behind my glasses and look forward. A gorgeous human being ruined by what he does for a living.

“Well howdy, John Wayne. I appreciate the offer but no thank you,” I told him, grabbing the still half-full glass to take a sip.

“John Wayne,” The stranger questioned me in shock, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you prefer Eastwood,” I retorted, placing my glass back on the bar top.

I heard the aviator let out a noise that was a mixture of a scoff and a chuckle before he spoke up again.

“Well, that just hurts my feelings, sweetheart. It’s not every day I get made fun of for my accent,” He said in amusement.

“Well, I’m glad I could bring some excitement to your day,” I smiled at him sarcastically.

I heard a huff of amusement. “You know what would make it even more exciting.”

“No, but I feel like you’re going to tell me anyways, cowboy,” I said with disinterest.

“Your number.”

I scoffed in disbelief and began shaking my head with a grin. “Trust me, my number is the last thing you want buddy.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that,” He asked me curiously, leaning in closer to me.

“Because my reputation isn’t exactly the best right now… If you knew who I was you wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me, I promise you that. So do yourself a favor and find someone else to court like the small-town country boy you are,” I informed him, pushing my sunglasses farther up my nose.

“Well, maybe you can give me a chance and I can prove you wrong,” He argued with me.

“Doubtful,” I muttered, taking a large gulp of my drink.

“Why don’t we start with a name? If you're so famous like you're making yourself out to be. Then I can tell you if I’ve heard anything and if I believe what I’ve heard,” He offered up.

“I am most definitely not giving you my name,” I denied immediately, shaking my head.

“Well, then how about you take off the sunglasses and the hat Hollywood? Then I can tell you if you look familiar,” He tried again.

“I am not doing that either,” I said with another shake of the head.

“You enjoy playing hard to get don’t you,” He asked me with a smirk.

“It’s not playing hard to get if there’s nothing to win,” I told him.

He stared at me in silence, causing me to look over at him. I could see a few different emotions swirling in his eyes. Admiration, desire, amusement, and what looked like affection.

“I’m Jake,” He said simply.

I stared at him for a second and nodded in response. “Cool.”

This Jake person opened his mouth to speak again before being cut off.

“Is Hangman bothering you, PJ,” Jimmy asked me sweetly, looking between the two of us.

“No, Jimmy. It’s fine,” I reassured the old man.

“Are you sure? Because I have no problem ringing the bell on him,” Jimmy told me, gesturing over his shoulder to my aunt's bell.

“As funny as that would be and as much as I would enjoy that, it’s not necessary,” I reassured him once again, picking my drink up and finishing it off.

Jimmy nodded at me and grabbed my now empty glass before walking away, but not without throwing a warning glare over his shoulder at this so-called “hangman.”

“So, now you know my name and my callsign. Are you still not willing to give yours up miss “PJ,” Jake questioned me.

“No, Hangman, I’m not,” I shrugged at him, beginning to stand from my barstool. “Hey Jimmy, Let Penny know I’m headed home,” I asked the old man, watching him nod at me before going about his work again.

“So you know Penny,” He asked me.

“Wow, nice deduction there Mr. Eastwood. That navy training is really doing you some good,” I said sarcastically, turning to head out the door.

“I’ll get your name eventually,” He called after me.

“Don’t bet on it, Lieutenant.”

---------

I groaned in pain at the sudden weight being thrown on top of me, a bright giggle slipping out of the person’s lips. I wrestled my hands out from underneath them and lifted them to grab the comforter covering my head. I pulled it down to see Amelia lying across me with her dog Theo running into the room and joining us in the bed.

“Amelia, why,” I groaned.

“Because mom told me to wake you up. She needs you to do something for her,” Amelia told me before hopping off the bed to leave the room, Theo following closely behind her.

I groaned tiredly before throwing my blanket off of me. I leaned over the side of the bed and gripped my sleep shorts that I had taken off before bed. I pulled them on before doing my morning routine of brushing my teeth and washing my face. I then ran a brush through my hair and pulled it up into a bun before making my way downstairs. I followed the noises I heard into the kitchen to see Aunt Penny running around trying to make breakfast for Amelia as my little cousin tried to finish up her homework at the last minute. I walked over to Amelia kissed her head and gave Theo a pat on the head, before taking a seat on the other barstool at the island.

“Morning,” I sighed out to Aunt Penny.

“Good morning. I have a few errands I need to do this morning. Is there any chance you can take Amelia to school and then go to the Hard Deck to get some of the opening duties done for me,” Aunt Penny asked me quickly, placing Amelia’s breakfast on top of her homework and causing the young girl to let out a groan of annoyance.

“Yeah, sure,” I nodded at her.

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long and should be there at around 10. And Amelia knows the drop-off procedures,” She reassured me.

“Penny, it’s fine. I know what to do and I will get Amelia to school on time,” I reassured her.

“Thank you,” she told me once again before gathering her things.

She walked around the island to place a kiss on Amelia’s head and one on my cheek before moving towards the door.

“I love you girls,” She called over her shoulder.

“Love you too,” We both called out to her.

---------

After an anxiety-ridden school drop-off and halfway through getting the bar ready for opening, Penny showed up with a thankful smile.

“Thank you,” She told me, pulling me into a hug.

“You’re welcome. I mopped, did stock, and washed the glasses. They just need to be dried and all of your paperwork needs to be done,” I explained to her, gesturing to all of the glasses sitting in drying racks.

“You are a lifesaver. How was drop off,” She asked me.

“Well, um, I have been through quite a few anxiety-inducing events in my life, but I think drop-off was the worst one to date,” I informed her with a grimace.

Penny winced at my words and nodded in agreement. “It can be bad.”

I nodded at her in agreement before moving to sit on the piano bench, my back facing the instrument to curb the need to play it. Penny looked between me and the instrument before speaking.

“Why don’t you play something while I finish up? I could use the entertainment,” She offered up, grabbing a rag to begin drying the glasses.

“No thank you,” I sighed, running my hands over my thighs to rid them of some of the sweat they built up.

“Presley, you can’t just give up music. I haven’t heard you so much as hum a note since you came home. And you've been here about two weeks now,” Penny scolded, placing her hands on her hips. “I used to have to pry you away from that piano. You couldn't stop writing and playing. You constantly had something new-”

“I’m not giving up music… and did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm just uninspired,” I interrupted her, looking at her sadly.

Penny frowned before placing her rag on the counter and leaning forward. “You're uninspired right now, but not forever. Something will bring your light back, I know it. For right now, how about you play some of your old stuff?”

I stared at her for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Fine. But I'm not singing. I'm just playing the piano.”

“That's fine with me,” She reassured me as I turned around and placed my hands on the black and white keys.

I began playing one of my songs gently and let myself get lost in the music. Meanwhile, Penny continued working behind me to prepare the bar for opening in a couple of hours. My one song turned into two, which turned into three. However, my playing stopped when I heard the front door open. I tensed up in my seat and looked over at Penny out of the corner of my eye. Penny dropped everything she was doing and immediately turned towards the person who entered the bar.

“Hangman, we don’t open for another few hours,” Penny called out to the person who walked further into the bar.

“It’s Friday, Penny. Dogfight football day. Just stopped in to get some beers for everybody before heading down to the beach,” Jake argued with her, walking over to the bar.

I could feel his eyes on me as he conversed with my aunt, causing me to turn my head slightly so he couldn’t see my face.

“Well, why don’t you head outside and I can bring them out to you,” Penny offered up.

“Nah, Pen, it’s fine. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than I need to,” Jake denied her. I listen to Penny let out a sigh before moving around the bar and gathering what he asked for. “I know that song you were playing, darling. I believe it’s called Enchanted by-,” He cut himself off when I finally looked over at him.

“Presley Jo, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Eastwood,” I stated, holding my hand out to him with a blank expression on my face.

“PJ,” He hummed, gripping my hand in his own with obvious shock on his face.

“Hm, I normally just go by Presley,” I hummed out with a shrug, staring up at him.

“Mhm, Penny my dear, do you understand who is sitting in your bar right now,” Jake said in disbelief.

“Of course I do. I raised her,” Penny shrugged at him simply.

Jake turned around and looked at her in shock. “You raised one of the biggest pop stars on the face of the earth and didn’t tell anyone?”

“It’s not exactly something I go telling everybody, Hangman, no matter how proud I am of my beautiful niece. Besides, Bradshaw and Maverick know.”

“Rooster knows? Maverick I understand, but Rooster,” He asked in disbelief.

“Bradley and I grew up together. Who do you think taught me piano,” I interrupted, drawing his eyes back towards me. Jake continued to stare at me in shock and awe, causing me to slightly squirm under his gaze. “So, you going to go tell everybody I’m here? Sell a story to the media?”

Jake shook his head at me before releasing a scoff. “Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s what everyone else does,” I shrugged, fiddling with the hem of my shirt.

“Well, Darling, I guess I’m not everyone else then,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock before speaking again. “You still want my number?”

“Hm… that, and I’d still like to buy you that drink,” He shrugged at me.

I looked at him in shock and disbelief before shaking my head at him. “You still want something to do with me after finding out who I am? Even with everything being said about me and me being canceled?”

Jake shrugged at me before stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Not all your fans believe what’s being said about you.”

My gaze softened and I couldn’t stop myself from staring into his bright green eyes. He held my gaze for a few moments before Penny cleared her throat.

“Hangman, your beers,” She said, pushing them all towards the aviator.

He removed his gaze from me to turn towards my aunt and gave her a thankful smile. He told her to keep a tab open before turning back towards me. He gave me a wink before moving towards the back door of the bar to go to the beach. I watched him walk away and out the door before removing my gaze from him and looking back at my aunt. She raised her eyebrows at me in amusement before crossing her arms over her chest.

“You gonna tell me what the hell that was?”

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blushweddinggowns · 9 months

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Eddie was…struggling to say the least. And by the end of the first week of sticking around this city, he was completely out of ways to rationalize what the fuck he was still doing here.

Indianapolis was just supposed to be a pitstop after visiting Wayne. Then, he was supposed to see Chrissy in a few days, spend some time in San Francisco before jet setting around the world for his year-long vacation. But instead here he was, avoiding Chrissy’s calls, opting instead to take the coward’s route of sending cryptic texts and reassurances that he was fine. Despite the fact that he’d canceled his flight a few days ago.

And for what? Some hot guy he had only seen twice? That he couldn’t even get past first base with?

And while technically it was the best date of his life, that didn’t exactly warrant whatever the fuck he was doing here. And that wasn’t even mentioning all of the fucking lies.

It was safe to say that he was floundering over here. Which was so fucking stupid. He was Eddie fucking Munson for God’s sake, not some lovesick highschooler. And he was sure that there were many easier flings to be had in his immediate future if he just left. This was when it was time to abort the mission right? He hadn’t gotten what he wanted, and that was that.

So why was that so hard to accept? Why was he so fucking obsessed with this dude? Eddie had no fucking clue. Well…maybe he had some clue. Because Steve was funny. And he was smart, adventurous, and interesting enough for Eddie to want to know everything about him. Not to mention painfully attractive. And then add in being a complete sweetheart on top of everything else.

All Eddie knew was that he wanted to see him again. And leaving now felt…wrong. Because Steve liked him. He obviously liked him, or at least Eddie really hoped he liked him. He at least liked him enough to give him his number. And answer his calls.

They had been talking a lot in the past few days. Historically, Eddie had always hated phone calls, especially when a single text could usually save you a half an hour of awkward small talk. But with Steve…it was different. Everything with Steve was different. They didn’t even have to be talking about anything important. They spent an hour and a half the other night debating over plot holes in the Lord of the Rings franchise.

He had been calling him from the hotel’s room phone, adding in yet another lie about forgetting his cell in his non-existent fumigated apartment. But he didn’t feel too guilty about that one. Especially since he went through the extra effort to buy a new real (fake?) cellphone. One that he had purchased specifically for talking to Steve with. Because no matter how much he liked the guy, he wasn’t breaking the cardinal rule of keeping his real number a secret. Not after the insane shit fans sent him the last time it accidently went public.

No, he did the much saner thing of dropping eight hundred dollars on a smartphone and an extra phone plan that he’d only use to talk to the dude he’d been dating for less than a week.

He really was killing it with the circular logic these days. And it was getting harder and harder to ignore. This whole…thing had gotten away from him. And it was becoming a touch too insane for Eddie to keep rationalizing the lies. And it wasn’t even his usual brand of insanity, this felt almost clinical.

But that didn’t stop him from dialing Steve’s number the second his new account was officially activated.

It rang twice before Steve answered, “Hello?”

God, even the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie shiver.

“Hey it’s me,” Eddie said like a moron. Like Steve would recognize his voice after one date and a handful of calls-

“Oh Eddie, hi!” Steve said, and Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, “That’s so weird. I was literally just thinking about you. I’m guessing you got your phone back?”

It was the smallest bit disconcerting, that just the sound of his voice was enough to make Eddie’s heart beat like crazy. He was kind of used to being the guy who made people nervous, not the other way around. Though he had to admit, it was a little exhilarating to be on the other side of it.

“I did. And you were huh? What were you thinking about?” Eddie purred, more than a bit proud that his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt. But if he was ever going to fuck this guy he needed to amp up the charm.

But unfortunately for him, Steve was very good at throwing him for a loop, “You know those Afghan Hounds with the really long hair? Well I just saw a black one that I swear looked exactly like you.”

Eddie barked out a laugh, loud and unbidden, “God, you really know the way into a man’s heart don’t you? Who doesn’t like being compared to a dog?”

“It was a very pretty dog,” Steve tried, “Extremely cute.”

Eddie laid back on his bed, smiling at the ceiling like an idiot, "You think I'm pretty?"

He couldn’t see him, but Eddie could swear that Steve was rolling his eyes before saying, "I think you know you're pretty. You’ve seen a mirror before right? Y’know, the shiny things that show your reflection?”

God, he could be such a little bitch. Eddie freaking loved it.

“Well now you’re just making me blush,” Eddie laughed, hoping that it came off as a little sarcastic instead of painfully honest.

“And I bet that’s pretty too. So what's up?"

Oh y’know, just obsessively thinking about you near constantly, “I was just wondering when I would get to see you again.”

"Well, my sister's going to be at her girlfriend's place tonight. How do you feel about coming over? I know it’s late but-”

“I’d love to,” Eddie interrupted, already excited. If that wasn’t a green light for them going further Eddie didn’t know what was. In a few hours it would be nearly midnight. And Eddie was more than down for a booty call, “When?”

“Maybe a few hours? I can text you the address. I’m sorry that my schedule is so fucked, but y’know. Night shift.”

“No worries. Guess I’ll see you soon?”

“Looking forward to it.”

From the latest chapter of this fic, inspired by this post

#steddie #rockstar eddie munson #bartender steve harrington #steddie fic #stranger things #a very dumb famous man falls for an oblivious sweetheart #thats the fic

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nakunakunomi · 7 months

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🕱 Masterlist 🕱 ☽☽ Character: Zoro (One Piece) x Gn Reader ☾☾ ✩ Requested by: @bas-writes ✩ [Humor, slight hurt/comfort]✩ warnings: usual vampire warnings, potential heartbreak, hopeful end ✩

Zoro was different from all the partners you had before. As a vampire, you had gone through your fair share of partners. When you have a life as long as yours, a little companionship was something you needed to break through the monotony of life. You’d date them a few years, as long as they didn’t get any suspicions about your true nature or the fact that you don’t age.

Zoro was different, in the way that he didn’t fawn over you the way your previous partners did. It was a welcome change honestly, being a vampire came with oozing a certain charisma, a biological mechanism to make it easier to find victims. Most of your previous partners had been attracted by said charisma, but Zoro was different.

He stumbled into your life of sorts, quite literally, as the two of you met when he bumped into you, trying to read a map. You had pointed him in the right direction -he needed to be on the other side of the city- and he had promptly walked the opposite direction of where you had pointed him. Amused by his antics, and having nothing better to do, you accompanied him to his destination.

He was quiet, but not bad company. He was insanely stubborn in insisting he was walking the right direction which had made you laugh. And the way he got flustered and annoyed at your laughs had made you even more interested. It was so rare to come across a human that wasn’t immediately at least intrigued by your presence, and it was even more rare for you to almost feel flustered by someone instead.

That exchange was almost a year ago, and now you were at a point where you could officially call yourselves a couple. There was some apprehensiveness at first, he was very careful about getting closer to you, and you wondered why. Maybe there were some kind of primal instincts in him that kicked in around you? You had never been found out as a vampire, and you had sources for blood that never made you reliant on crime or even your partners. You had never shared your secret either, feeling like it was easier to get over a breakup than the possible rejection of your very nature, or have someone cling to you until the difference in mortality would eventually catch up on you.

There was something different about Zoro, and today you had found out why. It was an accident, you weren’t supposed to overhear his conversation, you weren’t even supposed to be at home. But plans were canceled and you forgot to text him that you’d be home way sooner than planned.

He was a vampire hunter. That’s why he’d always been vague about his job, that’s why he sometimes went away on business trips or was harder to reach for a couple of days. You had always trusted him, but now there was a pit in your stomach: was he only trying to get closer to you to eventually kill you? That seemed like an unnecessarily cruel tactic, even for the slyest of vampire hunters, and you hoped that he just assumed you were a normal human, and that he was just keeping everything a secret because vampires, vampire hunters and any other non-human and their counterparts were still a secret thing that society vehemently denied the existence of, except for in their fantasy books.

The best course of action, of course, was to simply call it off. Break up, move away, to one of your other places far away from this city, and start all over again, the way you always did.

And yet. You couldn’t deny that the thought of it made you a little nauseous. You couldn’t deny that it hurt. Sure, you knew there was an end to this relationship at some point, but you had hoped for it to last at least a few years, and to be able to end it on your own terms. Not like this.

But your self-preservation instincts won as you stepped into the room, Zoro putting the phone down immediately and looking at you wide eyed.

“You were not supposed to be home yet.”

Now that you had overheard, you could pinpoint the emotions in his voice -or so you thought. There was surprise, and some worry. Worry you overheard? Nerves about having to maybe kill you sooner than he had anticipated? Or Worry about you finding out about his identity?

“I was on my way when they called me to say the event was canceled. So I came right back home, I am sorry. Did I interrupt something?”

You tried to be so lighthearted about it, giving him a chance to fix it, but you felt so trapped already. No matter how this conversation went, it was over for you two.

“No, it’s just-”, he was looking for the right words, you could see it in his eyes. He was walking through the archives of his brain, looking for phrases that could make this less painful.

“How much did you overhear?” is what he eventually settled on, and you couldn’t lie to him.

“Enough.”

It was silent for a bit longer, a few seconds where you both were trying to find a way to fix it, before the words started spilling from both your minds.

“You know I am a vampire hunter then-” “You know I am a vampire then-”

His eyes widened. He hadn’t expected your reaction, and the way he looked betrayed that you had just revealed your secret to him.

“Wait”

You spoke up simultaneously again, stumbling over your words, looking for excuses, to undo whatever just happened and say something else. You shut up and took a deep breath, and he let you speak.

“You are a vampire hunter, and you dated me, while not realizing I was a vampire?”

“I didn’t know. I just- I thought you’d leave me for having secrets, nobody believes in vampires or vampire hunters anymore.”

You chuckled. It was indeed a unique predicament, most people would suspect other secrets, a second life, an affair, but because you were amongst his targets, it made more sense for you to believe him and instead worry about the consequences.

“We should break up,” you eventually said, “give ourselves some space and time, and make it a little fair in case you want to hunt me specifically.”

He was quiet, looking at the floor in contemplation, and then looked you straight in the eyes, a clear determination apparent in his. The look alone was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“I don’t want to hunt you.”

You smiled, you were sure he was sincere. In the year you had spent together, you had never known Zoro to lie. Sometimes to his own detriment, but the man was honest as could be.

“Even then- this is not meant to be, you do realize that, right?”

“Maybe it is.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. How so was this meant to be?

“I know who you are, you don’t have to hide around me. And you now know about my true identity. No more secrets, no more sneaking around.”

“But you’re supposed to kill me.”

“I only kill those I get an assignment to, and those are the vampires running havoc. I have known you for a year, and you didn’t even trigger any of my instincts. That’s rare. You’re special.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Zoro was always a man of actions, not words when it came to his affections and to hear him declare this so determinedly, you felt a lot of conflicting emotions all at once.

“And if you get the assignment to kill me?”

“I’ll tell you. And we work something out.”

“Is that a promise?”

“I promise.”

#one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #spooktober #vampire au #alternative universe #reader insert #vampires #one piece imagine #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #scheduled #2ND person pov #gn reader

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evanesdust · 9 months

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🔽 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

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avelnfear · 1 year

Text

Chapter Six

Masterlist

Tim stared down at his computer screen, not typing anything, just staring. It had been months, months, since his parents had talked to him on the all important 18th birthday. The talk had been enlightening and infuriating, but he was so happy that they’d finally seen fit to tell him that he never had an imaginary friend for the first few years of his life, instead he had a twin. That was information that totally should have been left unsaid for 14, fourteen!, years.

Tim sighed, again, knowing his thoughts usually weren’t this sarcastically spiteful. He had been searching every way he could think of to find his missing twin, but nothing had worked. His parents hadn’t even left a birth certificate behind when they abandoned their child. There was no record of a Nathaniel Drake anywhere he looked, which made sense because Tim didn’t remember Neil speaking very much. He’d come back from one of the hangouts with Jason’s new roommate, Danny, to find that one of the automatic searches had turned up nothing.

This didn’t help with his already low mood, but Tim supposed he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up on a day like today. It had started with Alfred cutting him off again, which was normally fine because Tim didn’t even like coffee but today was different. He’d been up the entire night diving into yet more searching for his twin, but he’d found nothing. The only good thing about the day was being able to cancel a stupid meeting for shareholders at Wayne Enterprises for “outside commitments” that he didn’t tell them was just a hangout.

Speaking of hangouts, he should probably see if Kon could come to one soon, if only because he wanted some comfort from his best friend. He’d been searching for so long, and he hadn’t found a single clue. Tim had a good brain for facts and memorizing, but he had a tendency to throw out anything he didn’t view as important anymore. An imaginary friend was certainly not as important as stalking Batman and Robin, but a twin should have been. Tim just wanted someone to give him comfort and say all the right things to make this situation go away. The former was possible, but Tim didn’t think the latter was realistic.

Tim sighed again, rubbing his face with his hands to try and get his thoughts to quiet down. After all, he didn’t have time for a breakdown with how little he’d found out about his missing twin. He had to set up an automatic search again, expand the search parameters again, maybe get some coffee by bribing someone, and, judging by his clock which was five minutes fast, he needed to get at least one of those things done before he had to get ready for patrol. Great.

He only managed to get the parameters expanded and ready to be sent off to the program that was running automatic searches before he had to head down to the Cave to get ready. It was with a heavy heart that he left his computer to head to the study and the elevator hidden there. There was so much more he should be finding, but it was like someone had gone to the trouble of hiding his twin from him. Even if there was no record of an orphanage in one of the cities his parents had visited when they were four receiving someone named Nathaniel Drake, there should at least be a record of a four year old boy with black hair and blue eyes that had issues talking sometimes.

Arriving in the Cave, Tim shook his head free of the thoughts clogging it, he didn’t have room to think about all that while on patrol, that wouldn’t end well. It took Tim five minutes to finish suiting up, as opposed to the usual two and a half, but he couldn’t bring himself to care until Dick sent him a concerned look over it. He knew better than to let his inner turmoil show so easily, but this was unlike any inner turmoil he’d ever had before. Determinedly, Tim sent what he hoped was a reassuring smile back, as he firmly compartmentalized his thoughts in order to focus on patrol and the here and now.

Bruce, suited up and ready, stepped into position in front of the Batcomputer, ready to give the troops their orders. Tim didn’t trust himself not to give anything away, so he kept his eyes on the dark figure backlit by the screens. He felt several sets of eyes on him, but he didn’t dare turn his head. This was his own issue, it wasn’t something he should have to go to the other Bats and Birds with for help. Bruce waited until all of their eyes were on him, but he sent Tim a concerned look of his own that told Tim this night was about to turn into a long one.

“Since it is getting close to Halloween, we’re going to start patrolling in pairs.” Bruce was one sentence in, and Tim already had a bad feeling he knew where this was going. “Robin is with me, Spoiler and Orphan are paired up, Red Hood has declined help with Crime Alley, and Nightwing and Red Robin will be patrolling together. There is no trading of partners.” Bruce said more, but Tim was only barely listening.

It made sense, it really did, but that didn’t mean that Tim didn’t hate it. They’d sent the person who deals best with emotions out on patrol with him because the family was starting to get concerned about him. The only person he wasn’t a hundred percent sure about being in on the plan was Jason, but there was still a decent chance that Jason wanted him to talk about what was bothering him too. There wasn’t even any way to get out of it without sounding like he really did need help either because he was starting to go a little crazy over the lack of leads. Still, why couldn’t they just do the normal thing and stay out of his business until he was ready to do a big reveal, maybe with a Powerpoint and-

“Tim!” Dick shouted from a few feet away, anticipating Tim’s instinct to try and sweep the leg of whoever startled him. “I’ve been calling your name for like five minutes. We need to head out for patrol, remember.”

Damn it, he’d just affirmed their feelings that something was wrong. “Yeah, sure.” Tim tried to sound clear and enthused, but he failed, voice coming out mumbly and almost pouty.

Dick sent him a look filled with concern, so much so that Tim didn’t really want to meet his eyes. “You doing okay? If you need to stay in tonight, I’m sure I can handle it. We are patrolling together all week after all.”

Tim just sighed as he headed to his bike, letting his silence speak for itself. This wasn’t going to be very fun, but Tim had dealt with worse, he’d get through this. There was no way that Dick would be able to get any information out of him because this was far too personal of an issue to even think about sharing with any of the others. He’d even made it look like he was looking into just a regular missing person so the others would assume he was avoiding the issue- Oh. Now he saw his mistake, but it was too late to change any of that. How hard could it be to avoid Dick’s attempts to talk about it anyway?

~`~`~

The answer is very hard.

Tim had only endured three days of questions during patrol and subtler questions during the day if regular civilians were around, but he was already nearly at his wit’s end. There’d been no time for doing any searching while Dick and occasionally one or two of the others were needling him to try and find out what he’s hiding from them, and the lack of progress was already bad enough when he was doing something to try and change that. Now, with no progress and no way to attempt to make progress, he was getting increasingly irritable at an exponential rate, and there was no way that he could make their questions stop.

In a desperate attempt at doing something to throw them off the scent and get his itching to research to go away, he’d started looking into Danny again, even though he’d promised himself that he would leave them alone. Drastic times called for drastic measures, and the drastic measures had yielded results. He’d learned a lot about Danny’s backstory, but he refused to share any of it with anyone but Jason, the only one who hadn’t needled him about the search into his twin or let him be needled over it. Danny had been adopted at a young age into a family that seemed like it was at the very least neglective.

The recent name change from Daniel Fenton to Danny Nightingale had come when their adoptive father, who researched ghosts from a scientific standpoint with their adoptive mother, had declared that they were possessed and needed to be hunted down in order to be freed from “the ghastly ghost, er-, ecto entity possessing my baby boy,” which just sounded like it would lead to the vivisection of someone that Tim was becoming close with. Tim had started helping the people leading the man, named Jack Fenton, on a wild goose chase in between bouts of trying and failing to find enough private time to search for Neil.

Jason had told Danny that he and Tim had been alerted by an anonymous hacker as to their backstory, and Tim had even offered to see if the hacker would help send all the evidence to the Justice League to get help. Danny had declined their offers, simply stating that there were already plans in motion to fix the situation. Tim had continued helping with whatever he caught the mysterious helpers doing, not looking into it anymore at Danny’s request. Normally, a request for privacy wouldn’t totally stop him from trying to help, but Tim was currently on the receiving end of a massive invasion of privacy.

For once, as Tim headed out for the fourth day of patrol with Dick, he wished that it wouldn’t be a quiet night in Gotham. He didn’t go far enough to wish for an Arkham breakout because Danny was on shift, but if the interrogation tactics continued tonight, he didn’t know how long he could stay away from that topic. There was only so long he could avoid answering the questions without tipping them all off that it was something worth looking into, so the only way out of this situation was for higher priority tasks to swamp them until they didn’t remember what they wanted to look into in the first place.

Tim’s wishes were answered for the first half of the night, the patrol route he and Dick were on was too busy for any idle conversation, and Tim felt himself start to relax for the first time in days. It was nice to just focus on the flow of the fight, what the bad guy’s goal might be, and the quickest way to stop whatever that goal was. He was finally having a good time on patrol like he usually did.

Sadly, as they always say, all good things must come to an end. The second half of the night was oddly quiet, suspiciously quiet. Tim suspected that the others might be making sure he and Dick had enough of a quiet night for the interrogation to continue. He could only block out Dick’s questions for so long before his own worry about missing something relevant to any sort of case would make him tune back in, but he’d take his chances that he could hold out for the rest of the night.

Over and over he told himself the plan: Make it to the end of patrol and then retreat to the separate apartment he’d gotten just for this purpose, tricked out with so many traps and defenses that only those expressly trained in breaking in should be able to get in uninvited. It had been tested by everyone at one point or another, and only Cass or Damian had managed to sneak in without alerting Tim. Tim had so many escape plans for that place just because he knew that everyone would know that’s where he goes for privacy.

Tim tuned back into what Dick was saying, not wanting to get so lost in his head that he missed something. “Come on, you can tell me anything. I won’t get mad or call you stupid or anything like that.” Dick’s tone was imploring, but Tim just rolled his eyes in response, too used to this form of questioning to crack now. There was only a couple of minutes left and then he could escape this stupid conversation. “Tim,” Dick whined, elongating his name to comical proportions, “we’re family.”

That sentence turned Tim’s blood to ice. It was the phrase his parents always used when they wanted something out of him. “Do it for the family.” They’d say. “We’re family, Tim.” They’d use it like a reprimand or a prayer. Family was supposed to be something sacred, yet they’d thrown a member of their family away just because they thought they’d have enough with just Tim. They’d thrown him away too, even though they put a roof over his head and occasionally stocked food at the manor. “Tim, we’re family, how could you do this to us?” “Tim, we’re family, just do this one thing for us.” “Tim, you’re a member of this family, these grades aren’t good enough.” “Tim, what use is your memory if you don’t use it to honor your family.” He thought he’d moved past that, the unease he felt with someone claiming him as family, but hearing someone he cared about use it in much the same context as those people, the ones who’d willingly thrown away a son, he couldn’t deal with it.

Someone was saying something, but Tim couldn’t hear them over the thudding of his pulse and the screaming of his lungs. Family, family, family! His mind kept turning over and over all the times the word family was thrown in his face. Tim knew he had to snap out of this spiral or it would just get worse, but he couldn’t. All those times had suddenly taken on new meaning, a meaning he hated. Family had been so important to them, but it hadn’t, the idea of it had. They’d married for profit, and they’d had kids for profit. They’d thrown Neil away just because they didn’t see an early enough return on their investment, would-

A sudden burst of pain rocked Tim’s head back, bringing him back to the present. “Look at me.” A voice said, and he looked up to meet icy blue eyes that were seeming to stare into his soul. “Nod if you can see me.” There was a pause, but Tim was still reeling too much to do even that simple of a movement. Another burst of pain rocked his world, this time he saw a hand retreating, telling him that he’d been slapped. “Look. At. Me.” The tone of the voice told him that there would be no arguing, it urged him to obey. His eyes focused on the blue eyes again, this time registering the rest of the face, the black hair and slight scar at the chin and close to one of the ears telling him this was a friend. Danny. That thought alarmed Tim, but he couldn’t think of why. “Nod if you can see me.” Danny’s voice was much gentler this time, and Tim was grateful for that as he nodded.

“Did you have to slap him?” Dick’s voice made Tim want to retreat, but the glare Danny leveled at Dick made him curious enough to continue trying to force his brain to work.

“Considering none of your methods were working, you’re lucky that I had already figured out the whole secret identity thing, or Tim could very well still be out of it.” Danny’s tone was icier than Tim had ever heard it.

Wait. Danny already knew their identities? Tim’s brain finally recalled that he was currently wearing his Red Robin outfit, minus his domino. That meant that Danny would know his identity regardless of if they already knew or not. Then again, the texting records Tim had been shown after the whole “we know your backstory” reveal had included references to figuring out some big secret with vows to keep it a secret from everyone. That meant Danny likely knew he was the “anonymous” hacker.

“Focus.” Danny’s voice brought him back to the present even though he hadn’t been slapped again, and it was far warmer than it had been when directed at Dick. “Dick is going to apologize to you for invading your privacy so thoroughly that you had a panic attack, or he’s going to apologize for whatever sparked the panic attack. If it has to do with a case you aren’t making headway with, at least consider letting them in on the secret because they’ll see the issue from a different angle than you will. That being said, I’m only asking you to consider it because no one should be able to demand private information from you. If you would like to stay at my apartment for privacy, go ahead, no one will break in during that time without at least minor injuries, and I’ll just dump them on the fire escape after they go unconscious. Now, do you want to hear the apology or get some rest?”

“Can’t rest.” Tim slurred out, tongue feeling sticky and stale at the same time, and his throat was dry enough that just two words made him start coughing. Blessedly cold water flowed down his throat, soothing it and stopping the coughs.

“I’m sorry Tim, I didn’t mean to push that far, but the reality is that I did end up pushing that far. I’ll get everyone to back off, so you just worry about whatever you want to worry about.” Dick looked as apologetic as he sounded, which was very.

Tim took a deep, calming breath. “I understand why you felt the need to push, but I was clearly not ready to talk about it. Thank you for apologizing.” This time, his words were far clearer although they also sounded extremely tired.

“Wonderful. Now, get out of my apartment, Dick, and tell your whole group that I don’t want any visits through the window or any sneaky means. If they want to visit Tim while he’s here, the only way through is to be invited through the front door. Go.” Danny’s voice was back to being colder than ice with the return of them addressing Dick. Surprisingly, Dick simply nodded and left. “As for you,” Danny’s voice was back to being warmer, although it wasn’t quite normal levels of warmth, “get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.” Tim didn’t even have time to protest before falling asleep.

~`~`~

When Tim opened his eyes, he saw a ceiling he was sure he’d never seen before. Looking around, his eyes caught on the sight of Danny sitting in a chair and writing in a book he’d never seen before. It was a grey book with black etchings on it in intricate details. A copper double border decorated the front cover, and the pages were a pale purple shade. Two ribbons dangled from opposite edges of the book, one gold and one silver. The gold one was sitting on a page at the very beginning of the book, but the silver one was dangling outside of the book, waiting to be slotted into place once Danny was done. The pen they were using was blood red and looked surprisingly plain considering all the detail in the book. There was an expression on Danny’s face that Tim had never seen before, longing mixed with deep sorrow and bitter hope.

Tim didn’t know how long he watched Danny write, entranced by movements he couldn’t fully see because the book was tilted up, showing him the cover instead of what Danny was writing. Danny eventually stopped writing, carefully putting the ribbon in place on the page they’d just finished working on and putting the book and pen in a bag that looked like it could and had withstood a lot. Danny looked up to see Tim awake, and the previous heart wrenching expression vanished to be replaced by a caring expression and a gentle smile.

“Hey sleepyhead. You slept for a little longer than I thought you would.” Danny’s voice was gentle and quiet, but, now that Tim thought about it, their voice was always quiet, it just sometimes carried farther.

“What were you writing?” Tim asked, unable to stop the question.

“Letters.” Danny’s face and voice were sad, their eyes dropping to the floor. “I was writing letters for someone who might never read them.”

“That’s sad.” Tim commented, deciding to not just suddenly clam up, he trusted Danny, as impossible as that’d once seemed.

Danny laughed gently yet sadly. “I won’t disagree with you there, but I will note that it is also a hopeful action. Writing the letters gives me hope that they may someday be able to read them, although that might be all for the wrong reasons.”

“Can I read them?” Tim asked, wanting to keep the easy conversation flowing even if he knew that it would end and what the answer would be.

“No. It’s written in a code I developed with that person, so I don’t think you can read it. Also, it’s a little too personal for that Little Bird.” Danny shook his head softly, and his tone remained gentle. “Would you like some breakfast?”

Tim blinked in surprise at the sudden question. “Yes… You aren’t going to ask about what I’m hiding?”

Danny lifted his shoulders and then lifted Tim with deceptive ease. “Nah. It’s not my place to ask that, you’ll talk when you’re ready. Worry about talking after breakfast because I’m sure we only have so much more time before I get a visit from the Batfam.” Danny continued to ramble on about numerous topics, none of which were important, allowing Tim to just relax without giving his brain enough downtime to start overthinking things again.

Danny was right, Tim decided, he needed to talk to his family about searching for his twin. Not because they were his family, or because they could help him out with it, or anything like that, but because it was the right thing to do. He wanted to tell them, and that was reason enough. Months in the making, he was finally ready to tell them about his twin. And, okay, it was partly because they were his family and they could help, they were willing to help. In fact, all the trouble he’d gone through with them recently was them trying to help.

~`~`~

It took a surprising two hours for Tim’s family to come try and visit him. Although he understood a little more about why when he saw that it was the entire Wayne family, including Alfred and Jason. Still, Tim had apparently been sleeping for a long time, so he thought that they’d had time to get ready to ask Danny if they could visit.

When everyone was settled down with various drinks of choice in hand, although the space was a little too small for so many of them to gather if only because there weren’t enough regular seats causing Danny to drag bean bags from a random closet, Tim couldn’t hold back that question. “What took so long? Breakfast got done two hours ago?”

Jason snorted in amusement. “It turns out that Danny can be fairly scary. I don’t know how much you remember from the whole mess, but Danny managed to do his own version of an Alfred Stare with really good results. They tried to visit earlier, but Danny chewed them out for it. Cass said she thought she’d be caught if she tried to sneak in, and Damian said that all of us together couldn’t beat Danny in a fight if they were incompetent enough to not heed our warnings that what they were doing was the wrong way to go about things. After that, they just decided to invade my apartment until Danny texted me that it was okay to come over.”

Tim considered this for a few moments. “Makes sense.” He turned to Danny. “Speaking of the panic attack, why did you slap me?” Bruce made a noise of concern that didn’t go anywhere with Alfred and Danny immediately glaring at him.

“Dick was nearly in a frenzy because he’d already tried all the normal tactics, so I knew nothing typical would really work. At first, he didn’t want me to help out or really tell me anything because you two were in costume, but then I told him I already knew who you guys were and to bring you inside while I got Jason for any ideas he could give. Jason brought up how we could get a square of a certain color and that should snap you out of it, but he did admit it could send you into an entirely different panic attack, thus that idea got tossed out but it reminded me of something else. You can probably guess the situation, but I’d once met someone who was used to fighting to the extent that it was almost an instinct. When they had a panic attack bad enough that they weren’t processing anything they were seeing or hearing, I’d have to slap them or sometimes spar with them to get them to come down from that. Something about your brain autofocusing on the present to do threat assessment and stuff like that, I don’t really know all the science behind why it works. It doesn’t work for everyone, but I took a gamble that ended up working by slapping you.”

“Oh. Okay. That makes sense.” Tim blinked, thinking through everything Danny had said. He figured that the situation they were talking about had something to do with ghosts.

“Now, I’m sure they all have something they want to say or express, but that’s something to be done between family members. This is a meeting for Tim, so I’ll keep this short. I will not tell anyone about your identities. In fact, if that situation never happened, nor anything like it, you all would have no idea that I know who you are. I don’t need a lecture or a threat about keeping it a secret because I was already doing so. I won’t use it as leverage or anything like that either. To be clear, your secret is safe with me, no matter who or what is after it.” Danny fixed Bruce with an intense stare the entire time he was talking, even though the words were directed at all of them, making it very clear that Bruce was the main person the message was intended for.

“Well,” Dick drew it out comically, clearly trying to break the tension in the room, “I, for one, am happy that you know about our identities because you were able to help Tim when I wasn’t. Thanks for that.” There was a lot of sincerity in Dick’s voice despite how the inflection made it sound teasing.

Danny laughed gently, and the tension broke. “I would’ve tried to help the idiot vigilante on my fire escape because he got the wrong window in his panic whether or not I knew the identity of him. However, as I said earlier, this conversation is for Tim. What he uses this conversation for is up to him. He could explain what he’s hiding, tell all of us to buzz off, tell those of you who invaded his privacy or stood aside as his privacy was invaded what for, or whatever else he wants, within reason, and he’d have my complete support for it.” Danny’s voice was not quite as warm as it usually was, letting everyone who already knew him know that he was serious about this.

“Fair enough.” Jason grinned, twisting to look at Tim with a wolfish grin that somehow made Tim feel comforted. “The floor is yours Timmy, what would you like to say?” The way Jason was leaning towards Tim probably looked aggressive to others, but Tim saw it as Jason nonverbally telling him that he had someone in his corner, aside from Danny. It was comforting.

“The case I’ve not been telling you guys about is a personal one. I’d like no interruptions while I talk, or I might not be able to get it all out.” Tim spoke clearly and as calmly as possible despite the panic starting to creep in slightly. He didn’t really want to have to share what his parents had told him, but it was clear he wasn’t getting anywhere on his own.

“Go ahead Baby Bird.” Dick said, everything about him screaming gentle encouragement. Huh, Tim didn’t know anyone outside of Alfred who could get the people of his family to wisen up about their stupidity this quickly. Well, he didn’t know anyone else before now.

“On my eighteenth birthday, I visited Janet and Jack, like I always do for important family events.” Tim paused to take a deep breath, looking up to see understanding dawn on Dick’s face. Sometimes being part of a detective family meant things got picked up even if you weren’t sure you wanted them to be. This was sometimes. “They said that they had something important to tell me now that they were no longer responsible for me.” Another pause, another deep breath. “They told me that they’d lied to me and convinced me when I was around four or five that I’d simply had an imaginary friend named Nathaniel. Turns out, I’d had a twin that they’d taken along on a work trip and abandoned at a random orphanage because I was doing slightly better in school, and they weren’t seeing enough of a return on their investment.” Tim spit the last word, talking about the situation, even the bare bones of it, was making him just as disgusted with the people who’d brought him into this world as he’d felt that day. “I’ve been looking for Neil since then, but I haven’t been able to find anything. I didn’t want to bring it up to anyone because it felt too personal, but I just. Can’t. Find. Anything.” Tim couldn’t bring himself to look up and find out what anyone’s face looked like, it would just make everything far too real… again.

The silence stretched on for a long time. “Did Janet and Jack say they left your twin at an orphanage, or did they just say they left him in the care of the town they were at?” Danny’s thoughtful voice prompted Tim to look up and see his face looking just as thoughtful, head tilted slightly and one hand on the chin.

“I think it was, care of the town, why?” Tim asked hesitantly, wondering where Danny’s thoughts were.

“I thought as much.” Danny sighed. “Janet and Jack sound like the kind of jerks who make themselves sound better no matter who they’re talking to. It’s much more likely that they simply abandoned Nathaniel somewhere close to the orphanage, maybe even with no warning or explanation to the child. I have someone I could talk to about this while I’m out of town soon, but it’ll likely take him a while to get any results about this.”

The family looked like Tim felt, horrified. He hadn’t even considered that the two would even do something like that to their own flesh and blood. Then again, look at all they’d done to him. They hadn’t even noticed when he started running away from the house to go be Robin, they hadn’t known anything about him except for the things the public could know, and they only told him about his sibling when he was no longer legally their problem. It was exactly the kind of thing they’d do. Tim knew his expression was probably sinking even more with his thoughts, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about that with the new, awful revelation about two people he was increasingly disgusted to be related to.

“They-” Jason cut himself off, sounding absolutely furious. “You know someone who could find information better than the Bats?” It was clear to Tim what Jason was doing. He was focusing on the safer topic to avoid triggering one of his Green Fits, as the family sometimes called them.

Danny shocked everyone by laughing. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t laugh when you don’t know. I know a person who knows quite a bit more than all of you combined, but he doesn’t always like to tell me things because I accidentally lost one of his books once. We’re on much better terms now that I’ve somehow added to his collection, but he might delay my information request just because of that. Also,” Danny eyed Bruce, amusement still clear on their face despite the fact that Bruce was starting to glare at them, clearly annoyed at how well Danny seemed to know what he was thinking, “I don’t question his methods because I don’t want to get on his bad side again, once was bad enough.”

“What happened when you got on his bad side?” Dick questioned, clearly, to Tim at least, cutting off Bruce before he could ask any insensitive questions.

“Hmm?” Danny seemed slightly thrown by the question, which didn’t happen very often. Now that Tim thought of it, that might be a sign that Danny had something going on with his emotional state, possibly even due to the whole situation with Jack Fenton. He’d have to ask Jason about that later. “Oh, he used my trauma around Christmas to basically torture me by mind controlling the town into acting out one of the Christmas classics.” Everyone who’d already met Danny was already used to Danny dropping absolutely insane facts about life before Gotham because he didn’t seem to know what normal was. Bruce and Alfred looked pretty shocked and at least mildly horrified.

“He did what?” Jason sounded like he was holding back laughter, and Bruce and Alfred turned horrified looks onto him, which he obviously noticed and just as obviously ignored.

Danny laughed out loud, a big, full laugh that a person usually does when they’re really happy or going insane. It wasn’t a sound often heard in Gotham because of the Joker, but this laugh sounded so distant from the Joker that Tim barely even thought of the comparison. This time Babs and Duke, those of them who hadn’t hung around Danny as much, joined Alfred and Bruce, those who’d never met Danny before this, in turning shocked and stunned looks at Danny.

“He somehow mind controlled the entire town to act out a Christmas Classic, rhyming and all, just because I lost one of his books. Turns out that he isn’t such a bad guy when his library isn’t messed with, but I’d rather not get into all the mess that went into our meeting and stuff like that.” Danny wiped at their eyes because the laughter had actually made Danny start crying. Tim hadn’t seen that happen before, at least, not with Danny.

“How do you know so much about us when it’s only been a few months since you arrived?” Bruce asked the question quickly, like he’d lost control of his mouth. The Bats, and likely Danny too, knew that he’d asked the question purposefully. Tim reasoned that Bruce probably waited for so long to get a read on Danny’s character, and, by doing it the way he did, Bruce had made it appear like he’d lost patience instead of the truth which was that he’d waited for Danny to feel comfortable enough that it was less likely for him to lie.

Instead of looking shocked or losing the amusement that had been dancing in Danny’s eyes since the mysterious informant had been brought up Danny simply smiled wider and said, “My sister is in training to become either a therapist or a psychiatrist, and she used to spend time with me by having me learn psychology along with her. I did the same for my hobby as a way to show that we care for each other. This means that I’m very good at reading people. On top of that, I’d figured out your identities before ever reaching Gotham, but I didn’t do very much digging until it might have been vital to my survival here. On top of that, my sister would constantly ask for my help proofreading papers she’d written about vigilantes and how their work impacted their lives, often using the Bats as people she’d study to fuel said papers. She hasn’t published them, but I still read them. I’ve always been good at reading people, this is just a step up from that.”

“So you’re saying you don’t exactly know a lot about us, you just know what we’re most likely to do based on what our behavior has been.” Bruce said it in a calm voice, but Tim could see the shock that he was hiding behind the calm facade. He understood it, no one had ever done anything like that before, never figured them out to that level.

“Yes and no. I know a decent amount about those of you who have hung out with me a lot because we’ve been talking about ourselves and all that jazz, but I don’t know too much about those of you who haven’t hung out with me as much, met me at all, or told me about themselves. I may be observant, but I try to stay away from assumptions as much as possible.” Danny seemed to be relaxed now, not as stiff or harsh.

Damian shifted slightly, drawing Tim’s attention. There was an odd look on Damian’s face that vanished too quickly for Tim to get a good look at. When Damian noticed Tim staring at him, Damian sent him an aggressive “What?” type of look. Tim just shrugged his shoulders while rolling his eyes before refocusing on the main conversation.

Bruce nodded in understanding. “I see. Why did you decide to work at Arkham Asylum?” Tim rolled his eyes again at the interrogation tone all the Bats and Birds knew so well.

“I didn’t.” Tim blinked in shock at the simple answer said in one of Danny’s most neutral voices. “When I decided to move here I was handed an application and told to fill it out so that I could get a job lined up for me because I don’t do well with being idle, never have. It was only as I was filling it out that I learned it was for Arkham, and when I brought up concerns about working there the response I received was filled with reasons to work there, the least of which being I might be able to beat up a clown with no real repercussions.”

“Why do you hate clowns so much?” Tim found himself asking. Oops, he’d meant to keep that thought to himself to look over later. That always seemed to happen around Danny though, Tim speaking his thoughts before he’d fully processed that he was going to.

“Let’s just say an event in my childhood that nearly resulted in the deaths of myself, my best friends, and several of the other people in my hometown was orchestrated by a clown looking ringmaster who only further leaned into the clown vibes as time went on. Moving on from that though, this is your conversation Tim, so do you want help with the search for Nathaniel? What do you want out of this conversation?” Danny seemed very uncomfortable with the topic of conversation before he switched it, so Tim wasn’t too frustrated at the abrupt topic shift.

“I would like some help with the search. Any information is a good thing, and I hope to one day reunite with Nathaniel. That being said, I don’t know how much you guys can help because I’ve already covered a lot of ground in this investigation.” Tim kept his voice neutral, not wanting to show how badly the lack of progress was damaging his hope, any more than he already had.

Jason hummed thoughtfully. “Which town did they desert your twin in?”

“I don’t know, they never told me. The majority of their work trips the year they left Neil were in the state of Illinois, so that’s where I’ve been focusing most of my efforts.” Tim settled in for a long conversation about the ground he’d already covered, but it would all be worth it in the end if only he got to see Neil again. He only hoped he hadn’t made the wrong decision by including more people in the search, too many cooks in the kitchen and all that. Maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t have tried to keep all of this to himself. His was a family of detectives after all. Now wasn’t the time to wallow in the mistakes of the past, at least, not his past mistakes. Now was time to tear apart the mistakes of Janet and Jack’s pasts, and he couldn’t wait for their reactions to him disowning and disavowing them. Or wait, maybe he could, they were less important than Neil any day.

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married2myphone · 2 years

Text

Chapter Three: Girls Night Out

Life As The Avengers' House Keeper

Pairings: Platonic! Avengers x Female Reader

Tags & Warnings: humour, fluff, found family, domestic avengers, violence, slight angst

Chapter Summary: The team has to leave for a last minute mission on the day of their monthly movie marathon, leaving Y/n alone. So, Y/n decides to have a girls night out with her favorite Avenger instead, but things take a turn and the night ends up bloodier than Y/n intended it to be.

Word Count: 5.7k

Tag List: @olsensnpm, @natasha-belova, @caroldanvers2, @matchat3a, @venomsvl, @glxwingrxse

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

—

Y/n walked into the living room with a bowl of popcorn in her hands, humming along to get ready for the movie binge she and the rest of the Avengers were supposed to do. It was something they did once every few weeks, sometimes months, to relax and take some proper time off to bond.

But when she walked into the living room, expecting to see everyone in their usual positions wearing pajamas, Y/n was shocked to see that everyone was suiting up in a huge rush.

“What’s going on?” She asked, setting the popcorn on the table.

“There was a sudden HYDRA attack in Milan and they’re going full force on it. It came out of nowhere, we were just informed now.” Natasha said as he rushed to put on his helmet, when Steve barged in.

“Every second we waste, the worse the situation is gonna get, so work faster, people.” The man said, fully in his suit as he stormed out, followed by everyone else who wasn’t rushing.

“We’re sorry we have to cancel today.” Bucky said, holding onto Y/n’s shoulder and Y/n gave him a smile.

“I get it, now go save Milan.” Y/n said, giving the man a quick hug before he ran off.

“We’ll make it up to you next time!” Bruce called out and in the blink of an eye, the compound was empty.

Y/n took a deep breath before grabbing the popcorn and slumping down onto the couch, lazily shoving some into her mouth as she grabbed the remote and turned the tv on.

She spent the next few minutes scrolling through the various streaming services Tony paid for before throwing the remote aside and slumping even further down the couch. She knew this position would make her neck and back hurt, but she didn’t care.

“You seem upset.” The voice of Friday came up in the intercom and Y/n let out a sigh.

“No, no. Being upset that my superhero friends are doing their job and saving people from being killed instead of watching dumb movies with their house keeper would be selfish. I’m not upset.” Y/n said as she shifted into a position that wouldn’t hurt her body.

“If you are worried, rest assured that the Avengers will stop this threat in no time and come back safe and sound.” Friday spoke and Y/n smiled weakly up at the ceiling, wondering if Friday could see it.

“I don’t have a doubt in my mind that they’ll come back safe, they’re the most capable group of people I’ve ever met. I just…” Y/n let out a sigh, sitting up and grabbing one of the throw pillows and hugging it tightly against her chest.

“It’s very rare that we’re all present to spend time together. Of course everyone can’t share the same day off because at least three Avengers have to be working to keep the world intact. In the few moments where nobody is working, a lot of them want to rest or spend some time with themselves and have a life outside of the Avengers, which I absolutely understand.” Y/n started, not needing a response from the AI to know that she was listening.

“But my life is the Avengers. They’re the people who gave me a real life to begin with, and I’d like to spend time with the people who got me here. It’s a lot to ask though, I understand. Worldly troubles aren’t going to pause just because I want to spend time with everyone. I would never ask them to put their work on hold to make me feel better because that’s not something I want. I guess I’m just upset that I don’t get to spend as much time with them as I would like.” Y/n said with a frown on her face.

“Have you ever considered making connections outside the Avengers? Maybe it will help.” Friday suggested and Y/n let out a snort.

“No. Not happening. Friday, I am a recluse and I’ve never interacted with anyone outside of the people I already know now, and you know how hard it is for me to get used to new people.” Y/n explained.

“That is factually incorrect as you make trips outside for basic necessities, meaning you’ve spoken to various store clerks.” Friday said and Y/n let out a groan.

“That’s different. I’m basically forced to talk to those people or else I can’t get what I need.” Y/n retorted.

“I suggest starting there. Online sources say that creating small talk with the people you see everyday can help build connections and relationships.” Friday said and Y/n rolled her eyes.

“I don’t need any more connections or relationships, I have plenty here.” Y/n said, raising her arms out, only to realize that she was alone. She lowered her arms and hugged the pillow tight against her chest again.

“Well, I have you, at least.” Y/n said.

“It is a pleasure to be here for you, Ms. Y/n.” A small smile made its way on Y/n’s face at the words.

“You know what? Who needs them when I have you, Friday? We’re having a girls night out! Well, day, I guess, but it’ll last all the way until night, just you and me!” Y/n said, regaining some energy as she sat up with a determined look on her face.

“I am not sure how that would work seeing as I do not have a physical form.” Friday commented and Y/n rolled her eyes playfully.

“We don’t need any of that to have fun. We’ll find our own way.” Y/n said with a big smile on her face, trying to make the most out of the situation.

“What do people usually do on a girls night out? I don’t know, Nat and Wanda aren’t really the super girly types.” Y/n asked after realizing she didn’t know what to do.

“Looking up girls night out.” Friday asked and the tv switched from a streaming platform to a web browser with the words “girls night out” written in the search bar.

“Oh, I didn’t realize girl’s night out meant literally going out. I thought that was just a figure of expression. Well, it’s a girls night in then!” Y/n said as Friday continued to scroll down.

“Go to images, I don’t have the energy to read right now.” Y/n said and Friday was quick to move to the images tab.

“That is a lot of alcohol. I imagine you can’t really drink, Friday?” Y/n asked.

“I’m afraid not, no.” The AI answered and Y/n shrugged in response.

“It’s all just women drinking alcohol. How sad are these girls?” Y/n asked with a scrunched up face.

“I could look up articles on what other activities women might do on a girls night in and read them out for you if you’d like?” Friday asked and Y/n nodded, leaning back on the couch.

“Please do.” She said and the screen quickly changed.

“Group cooking class. You enjoy cooking, don’t you, Ms. Y/n?” Friday asked and Y/n let out a hum in response.

“I do, but you can’t eat and I’m not feeling hungry right now.” Y/n said and Friday continued scrolling down.

“Tips and Tricks To Create Mood and Ambiance at Your House.” Friday read out.

“Ooh, that might be fun. Wanna do some decorating, Friday? You could help me come up with some ideas.” Y/n said.

“Looking up party decorations.” Friday said as the screen changed once more.

“Oh, go to the Pinterest thing. Pepper told us about how great it is to find inspiration for decorating.” Y/n said, pointing at the link when it came up. Pinterest loaded for a moment before it filled the screen and Y/n let out a gasp of excitement.

“Oh my god, those are all so pretty!” Y/n said, getting up from the couch and sitting on the floor directly in front of the tv like a small child watching their favorite cartoon.

“They’re so nice! Friday I want to make those! Oh, wait, but it’s only the two of us, it may be too extravagant.” Y/n said, though she continued to gaze excitedly at the photos, eyes wide and mouth agape as Friday continued to scroll.

“We could set up a surprise for the team when they come back from their mission.” Friday suggested and Y/n gasped once more.

“Friday, you’re a genius! I’m going to pick out a few photos and order whatever is on there so we can recreate them. Make sure they’re priority deliveries too, I want them here asap so we can get started.” Y/n said and Friday agreed, the two spending the next few minutes choosing out some decorations before Friday put in the order, putting the payment on Tony’s card.

“Alright, Friday, what should we start with first?” Y/n asked once everything they ordered was laid out on the living room floor, hands on her waist as she looked back at the tv screen where her reference photos were.

“After performing the necessary calculations, I have determined that blowing up the balloons will take the longest, so it is best to start with that.” Friday spoke and Y/n grinned as she took the pack of pink, white, and silver balloons and the helium tank.

“Alright, let’s get started.”

It took awhile with Friday helping Y/n learn how to tie a balloon and use the helium tank. There were a lot of fallen balloons that Y/n had to say goodbye to, but she got the hang of it quickly. She was always praised for being a fast learner.

Music was playing loudly in the background from the speakers, a bottle of champagne was opened that Y/n had been drinking bits of throughout the day. A little day drinking alone indoors wouldn’t hurt anyone, right?

“I, and various medical professionals, would not recommend doing that, Ms. Y/n.” Friday spoke when she saw Y/n put her mouth on the pump of the helium tank.

“Oh, come on, Friday. What’s it gonna do, kill me?” Y/n asked as she put her mouth on it once more.

“Yes. Though breathing the helium from the balloon is much safer and will get the same desired effect.” Friday spoke, causing Y/n to pull away and furrowed her eyebrows.

“Oh. Guess I’ll just do that then.” Y/n said with a shrug as she filled a balloon with helium before sucking it out.

“Did my voice change? Oh my god, I sound like one of those singing chipmunk things!” Y/n said, laughing in wonder as she sucked in some more.

“Friday, raise the pitch of your voice so it’s like we’re both on helium together!” Y/n said.

“Raising pitch now. Is this satisfactory?” Friday asked, her voice getting higher and higher as she talked until she matched Y/n’s pitch.

“Yes! This is the best girls night in ever!” Y/n cheered with a laugh.

After a while, Y/n took a step back to admire her work. She had filled around six of the giant balloons with helium, confetti, and fairy lights inside. Getting them in was a challenge, but if those women on Tiktok could do it, then damn it, so could she.

They were tied down by these long ribbons that were attached by these cement blocks Y/n got outside but bedazzled with glitter and such. She was planning on putting them outside by the field. Seeing as they couldn’t do a complete movie binge, she didn’t see why they still couldn’t watch a couple movies.

So she wanted to do an outdoor theater with a huge projector with lights and balloons and stuff.

She had also gotten carried away and made these little light up jars with the empty mason jars they had in the pantry. Each one was designed specifically for each member. Then she also made some snacks for everyone to eat while they were watching movies.

And by snacks, she means an entire cheese board with slices of meat intricately laid out into shapes and such with a bunch of little napkins folded into nice origami looking designs. Needless to say, Y/n got really excited.

“Oh! We have extra fairy lights, maybe we should set those up outside as well! I think Steve still has that old outdoor tent in his room from when we went camping that one time. I’m gonna get it real quick!” Y/n said as she got up and ran to Steve’s room.

While she was away, Friday stayed silent until a ringing sound rang through her system. It was a call from Tony. Actually, it was the thirteenth call from Tony in the last two hours. Friday has never missed a call in her life, but perhaps she had gotten carried away as well.

“Mr. Stark.” Friday answered and was instantly met with the sound of gunshots, grunts, screams, and explosions.

“Friday, I have been trying to contact you for hours now! Is there something wrong with your system or something? God!” Tony asked angrily.

“Apologies, Mr. Stark. I have been accompanying Y/n-”

“Nevermind that! Listen, the whole Milan attack was a ruse. They lead us out here to get the compound empty and infiltrate it. They’ve been keeping us in this facility for god knows how long now, but a bunch of HYDRA Agents are coming your way right now. They don’t know Y/n is there, so be prepared for a fight. Y/n can handle her own fine, but keep her as safe as best as you possibly can.” Tony said in a serious tone as another round of gunshots could be heard in the background.

“I have to go. We’re close to wrapping this thing up, just make sure Y/n’s safe until we come back.” Tony said before the call ended.

“Y/n.” Friday called out to Steve’s room, knowing that the familiar urgency in Tony’s voice meant that there would be no delay informing Y/n of the information she had just received.

“I found it!” Y/n shouted, running back to the living room and carrying the box where the tent was in her hands.

Just as she arrived, the door was bust open and around five HYDRA Agents stormed the room, all armed and ready to go against anybody who posed a threat to their operation.

“Someone’s here!”

“This place was supposed to be empty!”

“Open fire!”

Y/n’s eyes widened and she quickly ducked and crawled behind the counter of the kitchen. Shots fired throughout the compound and Y/n looked up when she saw some of the mason jars she had made for the team got hit by bullets and shattered into pieces.

“Friday? Cut the lights.” Y/n mumbled, knowing that Friday would be able to hear her, and hear her she did.

In an instant, all the lights shut off and the entire room filled with darkness. Y/n moved quietly but quickly on her feet, swiftly evading the HYDRA agents like a leaf floating through the wind.

She had worked incredibly hard on those mason jars, and she’ll be damned if she let them get away with destroying her work. Grabbing one of the balloons by the ribbon with a tight grip in both hands, Y/n wrapped it around one of the agents’ necks and pulled back as hard as she could, causing the man to drop his gun and reach up to try and pull the woman off of him.

The noise caught the attention of the other agents, and Y/n quickly ducked her head behind the back of the agent she was holding. The bullet proof vest that the agent was wearing protected her from being shot, but the blood splattering on Y/n’s back told her that the agent she was using as a meat shield wasn’t as lucky as she was.

Y/n tossed his limp body to the side, grabbed the gun they were holding onto, and quickly moved around the agents who were still trying to find her. Wow, HYDRA really downgraded with their agents since she left, huh? She almost felt bad for them.

As she was thinking, Y/n had accidentally stumbled, causing a bit of noise. Okay, so maybe she was a bit rusty. But she immediately ducked to the ground as shots were fired and her eyes widened when she heard the sound of various balloons popping.

Yeah, fuck feeling bad for them. None of them were coming out alive after this.

“Friday! Lights on!” Y/n shouted as she got herself up, not caring if she was giving away her position to seven armed agents who could shoot her down within a second. They should know who they were messing with, because it would make their demise all the more satisfying.

“I-It’s her!” One of the agents shouted in fear once their eyes adjusted to the light.

“I thought she was dead!” Another shouted and they all started backing away with wide scared eyes and shaking hands.

Y/n didn’t hesitate to take this opportunity and shoot one of the agents that was armed in the head, instantly making them fall to the ground, unmoving.

One of the agents turned to the fallen one with shock, not noticing that Y/n was approaching them with fire in her eyes. Once they looked back and saw Y/n only a few feet away, they quickly raised their gun to fire, but Y/n was faster.

She grabbed their wrists and raised it up, causing them to waste their bullets on the ceiling. Y/n raised her foot and kicked the agent right in the stomach before pouncing on them, slamming the gun down repeatedly on their face, not stopping until it was entirely covered in red.

Arms grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off, roughly shoving her onto the counter before slamming her head down and dragging her head across it and throwing it aside. All Y/n could taste was cheese and blood, and the sound of something clattering and falling to the ground made her heart pound in her ears.

Y/n screamed in anger at the sight of her charcuterie board on the ground and she grabbed the champagne sitting on the table next to her, smashing it onto the table’s edge and threatening the agent with it as she approached.

“Y/n, duck.” Friday spoke and Y/n was quick to do so, turning around and stabbing the champagne bottle into the person, but grunted in anger when she was met with protection.

“Left.” Y/n swerved to the left like Friday said and elbowed the agent in the head.

“Duck again.” Y/n ducked, causing the agent behind her to hit the agent she just elbowed and Y/n stepped to the side before grabbing the back of the heads of the two agents and smashing them together as hard as she could. She swore she heard a crack.

“Right step.” Y/n stepped to the right when one of the agents recovered and took a swing at her, effectively dodging their attack.

Y/n stepped back into the kitchen as the agent walked towards her. Hearing footsteps behind her, Y/n glanced in the direction to see that she was now cornered behind the counter by these two goons.

Forgetting that the music was playing, Y/n perked up when the sound of “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” by Whitney Houston started suddenly playing from the speakers.

“Shit, I love this song.” Y/n muttered before surging forward and aiming her fist at the agent. Though it was a simple faint as when the agent ducked to avoid it, she raised her other fist and had it go straight up the agent’s jaw.

“Duck.” Friday said and Y/n did before her hand shot up and grabbed the agent’s wrist, twisting it and pulling it behind them before grabbing the back of their head and pushing it down onto the stove.

“Friday, on, please!” Y/n shouted.

“Turning the stove on high heat.” Friday spoke and the agent suddenly started screaming as they felt the side of their face start to burn.

Y/n grunted when she felt someone smash something on the back of her head and she looked down to see remnants of a mason jar that was painted red.

“That was for Wanda, you son of a bitch!” Y/n shouted, pulling the agent she was holding back then throwing them to their partner. Y/n didn’t give them time as she hopped over the counter and grabbed one of the handguns on the ground.

She went back over to the two and roughly stepped on the back of the agent before aiming the gun at their head and shooting them. The bullet went through the back of their head, going straight to the other one’s as well.

When everything fell silent, Y/n took the time to catch her breath before letting out a groan, hand falling to her lower back as she sank to the floor.

“I’m getting too old for this shit.” She mumbled as she looked around her. Ignoring all the bodies on the ground, Y/n focused on the things that really mattered.

The balloons were popped, the confetti was all over the ground, all the mason jars she had made were broken into pieces, the charcuterie board with all of Tony’s expensive cheese and meats were on the ground with blood on them. Everything was ruined.

“Friday, can you call someone to clean this all up? I’m gonna take an ice bath.” Y/n mumbled sadly as she got up and went over to the freezer, taking a couple of packs of ice and carrying them over to her bathroom.

Around twenty minutes or so passed and the Avengers came back to the compound bloody, sweaty, and tired. But they were still incredibly alert. They were aware that HYDRA very much infiltrated the compound, and though they had massive faith in Y/n’s abilities to protect herself, they still couldn’t help but worry.

When they entered, they were surprised to see a bunch of people inside dragging a bunch of bodies, putting them into bags and cleaning up some of the mess that was made during the battle.

“What the?” Steve asked in confusion as one of the cleaners excused themselves as they pushed past the Avengers, dragging a body bag behind them.

“Friday, can you pull up footage of what happened while we were gone?” Tony asked and they all turned their attention to the tv which showed footage of Y/n battling it out with the five agents.

“At least we know she’s still got it.” Bucky said and Pietro let out a whistle, impressed with the damage that five foot two woman could do.

“Where’s Y/n right now?” Wanda asked as everyone continued looking around at the mess.

“She’s currently in her bathroom taking an ice bath.” Friday said. Usually no normal person would be able to handle an ice bath for that long, but Y/n wasn’t a normal person.

“What’s with all the confetti and the… Is that cheese?” Natasha asked in confusion as she crouched down and lifted the wooden board off the ground to see the array of cheese and meats smushed on the ground.

“Y/n was planning on surprising you all when you came back from the mission with an outdoor movie theater. She had spent the whole day making decorations for everyone’s enjoyment. They had gotten destroyed during the battle.” Friday said as she showed footage of Y/n working on all the decorations on the tv.

While everyone was watching Y/n make all the decorations for them, Tony found himself confused, but also impressed. Friday never called anyone by their first name alone. It was always their last names and some formalities. But for Y/n, it was just Y/n.

“Worldly troubles aren’t going to pause just because I want to spend time with everyone. I would never ask them to put their work on hold to make me feel better because that’s not something I want. I guess I’m just upset that I don’t get to spend as much time with them as I would like.”

Everyone stopped as Friday replayed the conversation she had with Y/n earlier that morning when the team left. They all looked around them once more and took in just how much work Y/n must have put into creating those decorations for them.

Without a word, Bruce moved over to a small pile of things that the cleaners had put in the corner to throw. He crouched down and took a small packet of balloons and inspected them.

“Who’s gonna help me on balloon duty?” Bruce asked, turning to the rest of them while raising the pack in his hands.

“I’ll help. I can probably speed the process up.” Pietro said, stepping forward and going over to Bruce.

“I’ll do the charcuterie board!” Wanda said as she picked up the board and went over to the sink to wash it.

“Ooh, I want to help too!” Sam said in excitement as she went over to Wanda who narrowed her eyes at him.

“You just want to eat them while I’m preparing.” Sam simply grinned, not wanting to confirm nor deny.

“Oh, hey, it’s my tent.” Steve said with a smile when he saw the box on the ground. It was a bit squashed, but after opening it and looking inside, the tent itself seemed to be fine.

“I’ll help you set it up. Friday, she wanted fairy lights, right?” Tony asked as the tv screen shifted.

“Here is a reference photo of what Y/n wanted to recreate.” She said, showing Tony and Steve the picture of an outdoor tent with fairy lights hanging from it, pillows and blankets laid out on the grass with a giant projector screen in front of it.

“Download that into my phone, will you, Friday?” Tony asked and his phone instantly got a notification. The two grabbed the fairy lights, the screen, and the projector that Y/n had bought before moving out.

“Friday, what was all this glass?” Natasha asked as she looked at all the multicolored glass on the ground which was suddenly swept away by one of the cleaners.

“Y/n saw these colored mason jars with fairy lights inside them, but she made up her own design to match every Avenger’s theme and color.” Friday said, showing another reference photo on the screen.

“What do you say, Barnes? Up for some arts and crafts?” Natasha asked, turning to Bucky who stared at the photo before shrugging.

“Eh, why not?” And just like that, the Avengers got to work.

Bruce was desperately trying to keep up with the balloons, only having made six while Pietro had already burnt through fourteen. Though when comparing the two, Bruce’s balloons were definitely more consistently sized than Pietro’s.

“Pietro, grab it! It’s about to fly away!” Bruce exclaimed when one of the helium balloons managed to float across the roof and out the door.

“Shit! Not again!” Pietro shouted as he sped after it.

Tony and Steve were outside bickering about how everything was supposed to be with Tony constantly looking at the reference photo while Steve took some creative liberties.

“This was the photo she chose, that means this is exactly how she wanted it to be!” Tony exclaimed while Steve shook his head.

“She’d appreciate it more if we put some thought into it and used our own creativity.” Steve retorted.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Wanda was organizing all the cheese and the meat on the board. Tony had ordered a few more and Wanda even decided to add a few berries and even made dipping sauce. Sam simply watched and handed Wanda whatever she needed, helping her slice the meat and cheese every now and again.

“No eating.” Wanda said as she harshly slapped Sam’s hand away when she saw him try to sneak a cracker off the board. The man pouted and cradled his hand before going back to cutting, quickly shoving a thin slice of cheese in his mouth before Wanda noticed.

In the living room having a more peaceful time was Natasha and Bucky who were casually painting a bunch of other mason jars. Natasha settled with printing out stencils so she wouldn’t mess up, but Bucky had created his own designs.

“How the hell did you do that? Actually, no, when the hell did you even learn to do that?” Nat asked in frustration when she saw how intricate Bucky’s paintings were.

“Y/n told me to get a hobby and she taught me how to do a bunch of arts.” Bucky said simply as he focused back onto his jar.

Y/n had finally gotten out of her ice bath, legs a bit numb but it didn’t take long for her to regain feeling in them. When she got out of her bathroom, fully changed, she was ready to just pass out on her bed and call it a day.

But the sound of music had caught her ears along with the voices of the rest of the Avengers. Curious, Y/n walked out of the room and hesitantly walked into the main area where everyone seemed to be.

“I’m just saying that I could’ve very well ordered one of those big balloon archways and got it here in thirty minutes.” Tony said while Natasha let out a scoff.

“You would really make some poor soul create a huge balloon archway at midnight just because it was in Y/n’s Pinterest recommendations?” Natasha asked with crossed arms.

“It’s in her recommendations for a reason.”

“Guys?” Every Avenger looked to the hallway in surprise at suddenly hearing Y/n’s voice.

“Oh, Y/n, put this on!” Bruce said, handing Pietro a scarf and the boy sped over behind Y/n and quickly covered her eyes with it and tied it to keep it on.

“Woah, what’s going on? What happened during the Milan attack? Also, we got infiltrated, but I took care of it and-”

“Y/n, please.” Steve said as he stepped towards her and grabbed her shoulders, gently pushing her forward and Y/n simply shut up, trusting them enough to lead her somewhere that wouldn’t kill her.

Y/n shivered a bit when she felt the cold air hit her skin, biting her lip to stop herself from asking them where they were taking her.

“Alright, time for your surprise.” Steve said as he gently untied the scarf and pulled it off of Y/n’s eyes.

The girl had to squint for a moment so she could adjust to the light, but when she did, a gasp left her mouth as she gazed at the sight before her.

There the white tent was set up with fairy lights hanging from the bars above it, pillows and blankets laid out neatly with a beautiful charcuterie board in the middle along with folded napkins holding utensils and colorful mason jars next to each pillow. In front was a giant screen with a bunch of movies being projected onto it. All around them as well were large and colorful balloons looking prettier than the original ones that Y/n made.

It was exactly like how Y/n imagined it.

“Wha- I- How did you all do this?” Y/n asked, turning to her friends with wide eyes as they all sent her a smile.

“Friday told us about what you were planning and we felt bad that it was all messed up from the fight. Good job by the way, you handled yourself amazingly like you always do.” Bruce said and Y/n let out a light chuckle.

“I’m still pretty sore from that, actually. Haven’t done that in a while, I’m kind of rusty.” She said and Sam scoffed.

“If that’s what you call rusty then I might as well put myself out of a job.” He said and Y/n laughed as she looked back to the view before her.

“Do you like it? I told them the balloon arch would’ve added more pizazz to it. Also for some reason, Captain “America” over here was against the idea of fireworks. I mean, how can you-” Y/n cut Tony off from his tangent by walking over him and wrapping her arms around him, holding him tight against her in a hug.

“Thank you. All of you, really. This is perfect.” Y/n said before unwrapping one arm and extending it to everyone else who walked forward and joined the hug.

“Alright, who’s picking the movie?” Tony asked as they all separated.

“Dibs!” Pietro said as he rushed to the remote.

“No, I don’t want to watch Die Hard again!” Wanda exclaimed as she chased after her brother.

“Oh, wait! I need to get something inside, but you guys go on.” Y/n said and they all nodded, taking their places on the blankets as Y/n ran back inside the compound.

She went over to her room and looked through her cabinets before taking out the IPad that Tony bought her months ago that she never used.

“Friday? Can you connect yourself onto my IPad, please?” Y/n called out and in an instant, the IPad turned on and the screen lit up with the color blue, a straight line going across from it.

“Do you need any assistance, Y/n?” Friday asked, the white line moving to match her volume levels.

“No, I just wanted you to join us. You saved my ass there earlier. Who knew we could make such a good team.” Y/n said, holding the IPad to her chest as she went back with everyone else, happy that she was able to have her movie night with everyone in the end.

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers x you #mcu x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #bruce banner x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #sam wilson x reader #bucky barnes x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

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slytherinshua · 4 months

Text

KISS AND MAKE UP

genre. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort ig. warnings. crying. fighting. kissing. pairing. fiancé!sejun x fem!reader. wc. 1.4k. request. requested by @nyukyujs: arguing over the phone and you end up crying which makes lim sejun rush over to your place. a/n. the victon brainrot is back folks... what if sejun was my bias (skdjsk IM JOKING IM JOKING)

“How am I supposed to know when you don’t communicate, Sejun?! I scheduled the date for tonight 2 weeks ago! You didn’t say a word about extra practices until 10 minutes ago! I thought you’d be home an hour ago.” You yelled through the phone. You were getting frustrated with the situation, which was unfortunately translating into bursting out at your fiance. This didn’t happen often with Sejun, but it had started to happen more and more recently, and you hated it. Usually he was good with his schedule. Things hadn’t popped up out of nowhere like this in 2 years. You weren’t sure why you were unable to handle it right now.

You heard a tired sigh from the other side of the phone, “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/n. The guys are waiting for me.” He sounded annoyed. In the back of your head, you knew he had every right to be.

You had texted him after you had gotten ready for the date, asking when he would get home. The week had been extremely busy for him, and the date that you had so carefully planned had completely slipped his mind. Extra dance practices and song recording sessions were scheduled for the entire night. You knew that Sejun couldn’t just drop them to go on a silly dinner date with you.

“If you had just said something yesterday then I could’ve cancelled the reservations! I’m already at the restaurant.” You gulped down an uncomfortable itch in your throat. Your nose burned and you knew that tears would be next. Fighting with Sejun was hands down your least favourite activity. You wanted to sink into the ground and never come up again.

“Did you see how fucking tired I was yesterday!? I barely had energy to take a shower before bed!” His response rang in your ear uncomfortably and you let out a shaky sigh. He was right. Of course he was right. You were being unreasonable for expecting this date to happen after his busy schedule all week.

“I… I don’t know, Sejun.” You mumbled, breaking down a little. You tried to hide your shaky breath and sniffles, but you were sure he caught onto them. “I missed you so much— I just wanted tonight to be for us.” You choked out, a sob ringing through the air. You had already hailed a cab amidst your tears. You just wanted to get home as quickly as possible. There was no use waiting at the restaurant when your fiance would be a no-show.

“Are you crying, Y/n?” This question came a little softer than the previous ones. The sound of your sniffles must have been enough to alert him to your distress. You cried pretty easily, and Sejun was used to it— but he could definitely decipher when the situation was serious.

Though he wasn’t sure if you knew or not, he was worried about you. How could he not be? He hadn’t really been able to spend time with you for days on end; and for two people whose relationship 70% of the time consisted of clinging to each other, he had felt the toll as much as you had. You said you missed him, and he missed you as well. So, so much.

The question— the worry in his voice— had you crying even harder. You still tried to keep it quiet for the sake of the taxi driver, but you didn’t hide it from Sejun. You held the phone up to your ear, squishing it right against your skin.

“Please talk to me. Please.” You whispered through broken sobs, yearning to hear his voice calming you down instead of yelling at you.

“Baby.” He spoke through the phone immediately, ignoring Byungchan’s questions about what was taking so long from the other room. You realized it had been too long since he had last called you that. Just him saying that much was enough to get your breathing more even.

“You know I care about you more than this stupid practice, right? I’m gonna be there as soon as I can.” You heard a door shut and some keys clash against each other.

“No- Sejun, it’s fine, you should stay at practice.” You urged, suddenly panicked that you had made a big deal out of things when you shouldn’t have.

“I’ll make it up later. I’ll be okay. Just wanna be back with you right now.” He reassured you. You didn’t have the energy to fight with him again— just wanting to agree to anything and everything he suggested. So you found yourself humming, mumbling an “I love you” and an “I’ll see you soon” to him.

Sejun arrived home soon after you did, and he wrapped his arms around you as soon as he walked through the door. With your face buried in his chest, arms wrapped around his waist and his around your shoulders, you finally felt relaxed. He rubbed his hand up and down your back, soothing you further.

“My sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, kissing your forehead gently. You looked up at him, eyes shiny still from crying earlier. The way he looked down at you, worry and sorry and love all swimming in his eyes, you felt like you could drown if you looked at him for a second longer. You weren’t sure how he looked so pretty. He had been working hard all day, and rushed over as soon as he heard you crying. You probably looked like a mess beside him. As if he could hear your negative thoughts, he hugged you closer and whispered in your ear.

“You look so gorgeous, angel.” The whisper was soft, a little bit raspy from his spent vocal cords having recorded almost all week; but it was sincere. You knew that he could never be disingenuous with you when you were the most precious thing in his life, and your heart still raced a little faster knowing that he found you attractive.

He found you attractive despite the mascara stains near your eyes, despite your hair that you haphazardly took down as soon as you arrived home. He thought you were gorgeous even though you had changed out of your black dress and into sweats.

Though you knew he was being serious, the thought still made you laugh. A quiet giggle escaped your throat, triggering Sejun’s heartier laughter. The sound made his heart leap, and again, he squeezed you just a bit tighter, rocking you back and forth in his arms like you were the most precious thing.

“What do you want to do tonight? The dinner date failed.” You asked.

Sejun hummed, “I think we should order in. I should take a shower and get dressed all cozy like you so that we can cuddle. And then we should look through your Pinterest board for wedding dresses. But first…”

“First?”

“First I’m going to kiss you.” He completed with a contented smile, leaning down quickly to fulfil his wish. Your lips tasted as soft and sweet as ever, and Sejun practically melted at the feeling after being deprived of it for so long. It really had been days since he had kissed you properly— not a fleeting peck on your lips, but something longer and sweeter. Something more vulnerable and precious. Something that left you both breathless and euphoric when it was over— a kiss that he wished would never end because he knew nothing felt better than your lips on his.

And that was exactly what he got, as you were just as eager to feel him so close after so long. Your hands slipped into his hair, feeling the long strands flow through your fingers. You sighed when he squeezed your hip gently, a smile creeping onto his lips at the elated feeling in his chest.

You pulled him as close to you as possible, in hopes that he would never leave the position. And he didn’t want to; but he didn’t have a choice. He was running out of breath, and he was sure that you were just as worse, having a smaller lung capacity than he did. He compensated the kiss ending by cradling your head and placing several smaller kisses to the top of it.

“I love you so much.” He confessed— probably for the millionth time since he had met you.

You giggled, still catching your breath, “I know. I love you too. Let’s complete that plan you had now, hm?”

He hummed happily in response, pecking your lips one more time before grabbing a towel for a quick shower.

↳ victon taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @edensgardenn,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @weird-bookworm

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gutterballgt · 10 months

Text

So I did a thing.

A weird and expensive thing. Let me explain.

No. There is too much. Let me sum up.

I’ve always wanted to go to a big fandom conference, just once. I know it’s too much (not to mention too expensive) to ever go again, but I always wanted to go the once. Experience all the things. ComicCon San Diego was my dream con, but I knew that one was out of reach. And all the local ones (I live in the middle, where there’s practically nothing) are small-time and not worth the money unless you’re just REALLY into the thing you’re going to see. Like Pacific Rim, which had no cons anywhere even remotely near here.

So I figured it was a bucket list tick that might never get checked off. No big, right?

Fast forward to Season 14 of Supernatural. I heard they were finally ending the series in the 15th season and thought, “Hey, they’re actually getting to wrap it up right instead of being cancelled. Maybe I should finally watch it.”

Yes. I didn’t start watching Supernatural until the last season was in the works. Sue me. Those TV bastards have burned me too many times on too many cut-off series, okay?

So I started watching and then... COVID hit. They stopped filming. The bastards got me anyway, dammit.

And then, after they started filming again, I found out how the show actually ended and balked. HARD. I’d already watched enough to know who was my favorite lead character, and I was not pleased. What was even the point? Why did I start this, anyway?

So I struggled through Season 7 (my least favorite except for all the Dick jokes and the introduction of Charlie), enjoyed the Mark of Cain and Demon!Dean and, of course, Rowena, etc. etc. But by about Season 13 or so, it started being so unrelentingly grim that I eventually stopped watching about halfway through 14. Especially knowing how it ended, I was just burnt out. Couldn’t do it.

Fast forward again to earlier this year. I’ve had a lot of big changes this year, as I mentioned a while ago. New job, new house, new insurance (which meant running out of my meds because it didn’t kick in fast enough to cover the gap, which meant me having a very bad month in there somewhere). In all the hubbub, I got to wondering about that last season of Supernatural.

I’m not a completionist. I’m really not. But I hate leaving something I’ve invested so much time in unfinished. I wasn’t a superfan or anything, but I do like the characters and the monster-of-the-week format and most of the overarching storylines, etc. It’s solid entertainment, and one hell of an accomplishment to have lasted that long and still have such a huge fandom.

So I went back to the beginning and started over. And this time, I got all the way through.

I won’t talk about the ending. It is what it is.

But because I just watched it again, my Instagram feed has been filled with Supernatural ads and posts, and I saw that there’s a Supernatural con in Austin, TX in August 2024.

Austin isn’t THAT far away. It’s the closest one all year, anyway. Driving distance, even.

And there was a sale on all ticket purchases before the weekend.

And I’ve always wanted to go to a con.

So I slept on it, then did the thing. I bought a ticket to go to a Supernatural con in 2024. I’M GOING TO A CON. FINALLY.

I’m trying not to be too excited too fast. It’s a long way off. Over a year. And I’ll have to miss the July writer’s con next year because I don’t want to take off too much time at the new job, even though I’ll have been there over a year by then.

But I’m still pretty stoked. I’m going to a con.

It’s not Pacific Rim, but it’ll do.

#supernatural #creationcon #supernatural convention #is 47 too old for a first con?#TOO BAD #I'm going anyway

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copperbadge · 2 years

Note

Hi! I have a fundraising question for you, after I accidentally donated to a charity via check instead of Paypal. What are the consequences of someone agreeing to pledge a certain amount and then not giving the money to the charity? Can that have legal repercussions? At what point can someone still ask for their donation back, if the money hasn't been transferred but was pledged? 1/2

Mailing a check obviously means there's a delay between agreeing to donate the money and the money being processed, and I was thinking about all the potential ways that could go wrong. Like the check bouncing by the time it arrives to be processed, or being lost, or someone claiming they'd mailed it when they hadn't. Is that a major issue at your charity? Thanks! 2/2

So, the simplest answer is that it’s not a particular issue; if an ordinary everyday person pledges an amount, even after the amount is paid they can still request it be returned, within a reasonable timeline.

(This got long, so I'm putting it under a cut...)

I'm not sure what the time limit is but I know we've had people who had a payment taken out of their account by mistake and it took them a week to notice, and we've sent the refund. We don't want to be dicks, and until you get at least above ten thousand dollars, the amount you gave and took back doesn't have significant impact on 99% of nonprofits. A bounced check is irritating, so it'd be good manners to call the nonprofit and say "Hey I sent you a check, it's going to bounce," but I've never heard of that happening at ours (I'm sure it happens occasionally).

In terms of donations being lost in the mail, we're usually not aware those donations were incoming because most people who mail checks put the form in with the check, they don't tell us ahead of time. If a check is lost, whether the person did mail it or simply claims they did, we ask them to cancel the check and send a new one, then make a note that if the old check shows up, shred it. If they sent the check, it was cashed, and we have no record of it, we dig back through the paperwork and if we can find no evidence of it, we advise them to start a fraud complaint with their bank. This is rare; generally if they paid us and the check got cashed, if they're not getting credit for it, it's a data entry issue on our end.

In the nonprofit world, "pledge" has a specific meaning; it means a promise of payment, and generally involves some kind of structured plan (ie you can't "pledge" $20 by sending a $20 check, that's just a gift, but you can "pledge" to pay $20 monthly for the next year). Pledges are not legally binding until big, big sums of money get involved, because at that level you're signing legal paperwork about them. Even for high-level donors, if they can't or won't pay, litigation is generally not the first option. Unless you deliberately knew you didn't have the money and used the promise of it to defraud the organization, there's no criminal consequence, and most nonprofits won't bother suing over smaller-level accidental over-pledging. It's bad optics, and generally a waste of time, and also I think we consider it rather cruel.

My old nonprofit once had a guy who had pledged $500K ($100K/yr for five years) fifteen years ago. We still have the pledge active in his database entry, we just added a note saying "unlikely to pay" and "do not accept further pledges". We would still accept a gift from him, we simply wouldn't accept any structured payment promises.

Very rarely, a large nonprofit might get into litigation with a donor, but even then usually it's the donor suing to get money back rather than the nonprofit suing for full payment. A nonprofit at that level usually just shrugs, takes their name off the building, and finds a new donor to fill their place. If the donor demands back money they've already paid, the org might enter into mediation or litigation, in which case the donor may be blacklisted from further giving.

It takes a lot to get a donor to do this; one reason people give large sums is that it's good PR, and suing for money back from a nonprofit is extremely bad PR, so generally it's only done when the nonprofit has committed extreme malfeasance with the money or the donor believes they have. There are a couple of very wealthy people in Chicago and New York who now find it extremely hard to give at the higher levels because they've made gifts, then demanded the money back for various and generally specious reasons; they're known to have that pattern and a lot of places either won't touch them because they don't want the legal headache, or will only accept gifts under extremely strict contracts that the donors generally refuse to sign.

So yeah...TLDR it’s usually not a problem, and when it is, it’s a problem only for billionaires, who could use to have a few more problems in my opinion :D

#nonprofit #giving #philanthropy

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kaldurcalm · 3 months

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Hey correct me if I'm wrong but I shouldn't have to babysit my dog's medication situation. I should be able to place an order and have the company call my vet and my vet should be able to have an actual human conversation with the company to verify what the correct dosage is instead of just fucking canceling it.

I should not have to fucking micromanage grownass adults who are running entire businesses.

I have tried three times now. With two different companies. All the vet had to say way "this is the actual dosage, proceed." All the company had to do was say, "the vet said this is the actual dosage, may we proceed?"

I try to be as patient and understanding as I can but signing up for Vetco was a mistake. Idk why I let myself do it, I knew better. They have the prescription as 2.5 mg for a fuckign 12 pound dog because for some fucking goddamn reason they do not carry more than one size of fucking vetmedin, so instead of telling me I can order the actual fucking dosage for my actual fucking dog they're like, nope, the actual prescription is 2.5, you have to order that.

I have to break up the 2.5 mg tab because it's too much for her. The actual dosage is 1.25 mg.

Allivet kept telling me they couldn't even get ahold of the vet, which I don't fucking understand because I gave them the fucking address. I do not know how the number was wrong when I called them to see if it was correct because I had to input it myself and I looked it up to check myself.

Allivet also says the order is pending. It is not pending. They cannot get their shit together.

Chewy is at least a lot more prompt about informing me that something is wrong. I know the customer service reps were heavily coached, but it is genuinely nice to hear them say to give Lil Bit some love. They helped clarify WHY it went wrong, at least.

I promise I'm nicer on the phone. I'm cussing here because I need to get it out so I don't fucking goddamn lambast the fucking goddamn vet that won't fucking goddamn fill my dog's fucking goddamn prescription.

The last vet gave us a quad tab. You break a 5 mg into fourths, so it ends up being 1.25 mg per piece. It lasts for like six months. It costs like $45 or so??

The singular size that the fucking goddamn vetco carries only has 30 fucking goddamn tabs, and it costs 80 fucking goddam dollars.

I am being given the runaround because a fucking vet made a fucking prescription based on the fucking goddamn product shortage in his office instead of based on dog's actual fucking goddamn dosage.

I am going to have to call them AGAIN tomorrow and try not to fucking lose it.

You know what normally happens in this scenario? The supplier makes one goddamn phone call, the vet sends one goddamn fax, and I get my dog's fucking goddamn meds.

#it is possible i am being too harsh but i am pretty certain that it should not!! be!! this!! hard!!!

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fizzingwizard · 1 year

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Today on things I IMMEDIATELY turned off, lol...

But first, props to tumblr for at least making sure we all knew about the change, not just silently adding it and making some random tumblr user release a psa. And for making it customizable/easy to disable.

I get how this could be fun. I hate blaze, but if you've got cash to burn and you really think so-and-so's video of a hamster in a party hat is the funniest thing ever, sure, it's your money, waste it how you want. Better to throw some coins to tumblr for hamsters in party hats than treat us to more mainstream ad content.

Of course, out of all the blazed posts that have ended up on my dash, very few have been hamsters-in-party-hats worthy. Most have just been stuff I didn't care about or something mildly insulting. But maybe the hamsters-in-party-hats crowd just don't have money.

Biggest concern is whether you get to consent first to someone else choosing to blaze your post. Tumblr says if someone blazes our post we'll be informed, and have the option to cancel it. It's an opt out instead of opt in. That's what bugs me. I hate opt out. I'd rather that if someone wanted to blaze my post, I had to definitively say "Yes." What if someone blazes my post and I'm in the hospital and don't see it before it's live? You CAN pull it after, which is great, but why not skip that whole song and dance by requiring people to opt in before the post can go live?

Lol. I don't agree. But we'll see.

Also disagree. Blazing is not the same as reblogging. I can't control what other people reblog which ends up on my dash, but I CAN choose who I follow, and if their content becomes something I'm not interested in, I can unfollow them. Only way out of Blaze is to cough up money for ad-free browsing. A while ago I tried blocking blogs that put blazed posts on my dash, but the blazed posts continued to appear. Maybe that has been fixed, I don't know.

The sticking point really is a matter of consent. I've been on tumblr for ten years. I don't freaking remember most of what I posted back then. There's probably something embarrassing someone who really disliked me could dig up if they wanted to. If this option MUST be opt-out, then I wish at least all posts made before the change were opt-in only. If the approval process before someone is allowed to blaze your post is more robust than I anticipate, I won't mind as much though. Basically just let people have the MAIN say in whether or not their post gets blazed, instead of treating the informing of the OP like it's a courtesy.

Tumblr should keep in mind that a lot of original content here is diary-like, personal, meant for a small group of followers who feel comfortable with each other. It's not a site many people use to make their BRAND. That's ALSO one of the good things about tumblr - I don't sit around worrying about how fake everyone is like I do almost anywhere else. That's why I'm not interested in this feature. I can see it being used for good - blazing a gofundme for someone in need, for example - but I just don't want to wade through even more cringe I didn't ask for on my dash. Sigh.

Anyway, hopefully everyone who doesn't want this opts out without a hitch (for side blogs too).

#tumblr

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evanesdust · 10 months

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The Rental Boyfriend

written for @sterekbros and the @sterek-exchange summer event, @sterekweekly word prompt: pillow, and @sterekbingo square: anniversary

Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Lydia Martin Additional Tags: POV Stiles Stilinski, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Alpha Derek Hale, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Pining Stiles Stilinski, Virgin Stiles Stilinski, First Kiss, Fluff, Light Angst, Explicit Sexual Content, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Knotting, Frottage, Getting Together, Happy Ending

Summary:

It wasn’t part of Stiles’s plan to actually get a rental boyfriend just to experience a first date. It also wasn’t part of his plan to stumble upon Derek Hale’s page and hire him for a few hours every week. And Stiles definitely hadn't meant to actually start falling for the guy. …or the one where Stiles hired Derek to be his boyfriend and promptly fell in love. Oops.