#Laura watches Last Shift | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

misty-caligula · 1 year

Text

Okay this is gonna be long, but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover so please bear with me. In a real way, this is my series thesis.

I’ve said before, many times now (like a cycle) that for me the most important scene is ep 1 act 1 scene 1. There’s something There that I have been struggling to see clearly, struggling to articulate, and s2e9 really finally gave me the last pieces for it.

I think that Pit Girl is the point of the entire story. But not in the way that I thought going in. I feel like I’m rambling, so I’m going to try to structure my thoughts.

Imagine you’re a new viewer. You haven’t watched yj start to finish 30 times, you’ve never even buzzed before. You turn on the tv and the FIRST thing that happens is you see ... brutality. A half dressed girl chased through the freezing woods, murdered without a chance. They drag her through the snow, string her up, pour her blood on the ground. Hack her into unrecognisable chunks. Sit around in scary outfits and rip at her, with a huge focus on the teeth, as horror music plays. Then, Misty takes off her mask, puts on her glasses, and does the worst possible thing. She smiles. Directly at you.

Again, forget everything you know and go on vibes. You’re seeing the teens pre-crash, and you’re seeing them in the third timeline, fully formed, with horror motifs and covered in fur. You’d be mistaken for thinking that you were seeing start and end. Except that... we know, and you know, that Pit Girl is the middle. These monsters somehow came back from this. How? When they’re so so so far gone?

Hence the show. I know I’m not breaking new ground here, but bear with me. I’m going somewhere.

(Edit: Readmore added because honestly, LONG post)

You’d be forgiven, fresh-faced new viewer, for thinking you were watching some kind of gross-out slasher. But what happens in S1? Restraint. Laura Lee, the first non-crash victim dies at the end of episode eight. Jackie end of ep 10. (For the sake of this thesis we’re going to be almost exclusively focused on the teens.)

And yet there’s this tonal shift, It’s like ... inevitability. Like watching a crack in a window that’s very slowly spreading. Everything is steadily Getting Worse. The weather is slowly getting colder, the days are getting darker, food’s getting scarcer, life is getting harder. But so much of this difficulty is coming from external events and pressure. Yes, cracks start to show in the internal relationship dynamics, of course, but if food was plentiful, if shrooms were less so, if the weather were better, then they could probably work out a very long term stable situation. Sadly for them, things are not stable, and the pressure is building.

Then Jackie dies and the glass gets a really big break.

It’s worth mentioning at this moment that Jackie at any time could’ve come the fuck inside. Safety and warmth and even love were available to her. All it would’ve required was for her not to be the centre of the world. To make actual goddamn concessions and join the team. Which is why she couldn’t possibly make that choice, because she had to be invited, she had to be apologised to, she had to be accommodated. She couldn’t see the rest of the ‘jackets as being people who just like her were in a really shitty situation. She saw them as being external, as being in cahoots against her, as being part of some Thing that she wasn’t in on. She couldn’t let go of the society they’d left, and she preferred to die. Which sure is a choice...

Keep all of that in mind though. We’re taught to blame Shauna for Jackie’s choices. Let’s stop with that. Jackie chose not to assimilate, she looked around the cabin at the team eating the bear and praying to the wilderness and instead of just paying lip service to fit in, like Tai, she decided to put her foot down and make a Thing of it. She decided that being Right was more important than being Included.

Seriously, keep that in mind, we’re coming back to it. Cycles, you know...

Season 2, everyone’s hungry and hey we have this spare Jackie lying around. And we joke like “ha, you gonna eat that?” Only...

No. They WEREN’T going to eat her.

Really think about that for a second. They put her in the meat shed. With the bear. Think about what that does, psychologically. Linguistically. The meat shed is made to store food. The bear has a word: carcass. Day after day after week after month they carve progressively more pathetic chunks from it, subsisting on what little it offers. In the EXACT same room, sitting right there is Jackie. Her body has a different name. Corpse. With many different connotations. At NO point does ANY of them raise the fact that they’ve taken their friend and added her to their meat stockpile.

Because they haven’t. Instead, they’ve added a new sub-room. The meat shed is now also a morgue. And nobody ever once had to say it. They got it. We got it. You got it. And while they starved and their bodies BEGGED for food, Jackie’s corpse lay there, frozen and fresh, and stubbornly refused to become a carcass, because they wouldn’t let it. They knew that there were more important things than meat, even when they were starving.

The bacchanal was a mistake. A literal error. It simply wasn’t planned, wasn’t meant to go down that way. Maybe if they HAD considered that route earlier and had a discussion about it they’d have been prepared, psychologically, maybe if they weren’t so starved. Who knows. But in the middle of the night they were offered a way out, and they took it.

But Shauna took it first.

Even in their state, even faced with an ideal roasted feast infront of them, they waited until Shauna said it was okay. Because Jackie was Shauna’s friend, and they knew that she was still a person. That this was still a corpse first. It was Shauna who was able to give them permission to survive. To turn a friend into a meal. It was not their place to take that step. To shoulder that guilt. So Shauna did it for them.

The next day they’re devastated. The heavy reality sets in, now the hunger is settled. And Jackie’s carcass is far too real, they can’t change her back into a corpse. Nat tries, bless her heart. But Tai’s screaming reaction at having eaten Jackie’s face is only an externalisation of the grief and horror and agony they’re all going through.

And after Jackie they starve again. Hope and heat and light dwindles further. Every single day they all take another step towards death. That’s what starvation is, it’s the same thing as dying, you die a little bit every day until you can’t die anymore.

Kristen falls. Misty doesn’t even consider that she might bring her back as meat. If she had’ve, she might think, maybe she’d be considered like ... heroic. It doesn’t even occur to her. She’s not going to LET those bitches eat her one and only friend, and she goes out of her way to protect her.

Shauna has her horror show birth. And, no matter WHAT the context is, she produces.... meat. In the most awful, brutal way. And while the fandom made so many jokes and stuff, the reality is that yes... at least to an extent there was real nutrients there. And it was never once even brought up as an option, by these desperate, starving girls.

When Coach tries to kill himself, here’s a ready source of willing meat. And Misty uses it as a threat to stop him. But it’s hollow, she’s just putting on fake fangs to try to keep him safe. She’s not actually that vicious thing that she’s pretending to be, just like she’s not actually homophobic.

When Lottie tells Misty to eat her if she dies, Misty fights her on it. Lottie has to insist. Then when she tells the rest of the team, they are so overwhelmed with the selflessness of the gesture that it inspires them to twist it into their first hunt. That’s what it takes. The hunt is an act of self-sacrifice and love.

And so we get to the hunt. The proto-pit-girl, we’ve come full circle and we start to learn all these answers to questions posed in act 1 scene 1. And they’re not the answers that were assumed.

How do they get to the point of eating each other? They sacrifice themselves willingly, for the sake of each other’s survival.

Why do they hunt the way they do? Because Shauna just can’t stand to murder a friend in cold blood, a friend she cares for and has no reason to hate.

Why the spike pit? Because it keeps the blood off their hands. Because it lets them blame It and preserve a tiny fragment of their innocence.

Why the weird symbols? The ritual itself? Because they need SOMETHING to hold onto, to make it all make sense.

Why so brutal? Is it? We THINK it’s brutal. It’s certainly bloody. But Pit Girl dies almost instantly. Her pain is over fast. She doesn’t have a good time going into it, obviously, none of them want to die. But she chose to run, she could’ve taken the knife instead. And the spike trap was efficient. Yes they drag her through the snow and string her up, but it’s mechanical and just part of the process and she’s dead already. Her pain is over fast, it’s not sadistic.

Why do they chop her up into chunks like that? Because nobody wants to eat her face. Because nobody wants to struggle with her humanity, they want her to look just like any other meat. So that they might be having deer or bear or ... friend. They’re eating because they are biological machines that need to eat, that NEED death to survive. They didn’t ask to be made the way they are, and they’re doing their best to cope. Shauna, probably blindly, takes on that responsibility, to transform their friend into unrecognisable meat to change a corpse into a carcass. She takes that pain for them, holds that sin for them, out of love. So they can eat, so they can survive.

What’s with the creepy horror masks? During the ritual they can’t handle being themselves. They create alternate versions of themselves to hold what must be done. The masks aren’t there to scare anyone, because there IS NO AUDIENCE. The masks are there to hide behind. That’s why Misty takes hers off at the end of the scene. The ritual is over and they can go back to being people again.

Why is Misty fucking Quigley in charge? Because she CAN be. Because she’s strong enough. If Lott/Nat/The AQ is the goddess/queen, Misty is the priestess/handmaiden, tasked with actually carrying out her orders. She interprets the queens words when she’s too weak, she provides counsel when she needs it, she tells the team what they need to hear in the moment, she gives out the micromanagement. Misty’s the power behind the throne, because when she says she’ll do something she fucking follows through. No matter the cost. And what the team NEEDS, whether they choose to admit it or not, is a backbone.

So...

They bring home Javi. The music uses a reference that’s never been done before. It uses the spiritual powerballad that was playing when Laura Lee tried to fly away. It builds the expectation of Great Things, of big, potent ...

And then it just stops. As the girls are faced with the reality of what’s laying on the table. The cold, blue corpse of a soft child who never hurt anyone. No matter what they do, no matter how hard they try they just cannot make him a carcass. But they have made the choice already, and if they turn back now it’s not like it’ll bring him back. They’ll just be starving and regretful as he rots.

So Shauna, blind and shaking, does the best she can. And when she brings in the meat, she - of all people - understands EXACTLY what Travis is going through. She knows what he needs. Because she’s been here. With Jackie. So she brings him Javi’s heart. His core. His love. His soul.

(She doesn’t bring him Javi’s head. She cuts that off and puts it aside so nobody has to eat his face... Some things are worth more than pure nutritional survival.)

And Travis, god bless him, does the only thing he can do left to respect Javi. He takes his heart, and he bites it, raw and bloody.

It hurts him to do so. It disgusts him so much, but he manages not to throw up. It disgusts the girls too, but they watch on, horrified. And that’s the POINT. Travis makes sure that before they do this, before they do what they have to... that they all remember this is Javi, this is human, this is a person. And he preserves the horror. For all their sakes. And only then, after he’s given his blessing, after he’s done his human acts, do these starving, ravenous girls allow themselves to reach for their food.

S1E1. Act 1, scene 1. We do not know who Pit Girl is. We do not know the exact circumstances that get us there. But we do know where we started now. What the original meaning is behind each of these little things. And it’s not brutality, not barbarism. It’s love. It’s not lord of the flies, a bunch of monstrous human-shaped creatures giving in to their primal nature and predating on each other. It’s a team of terrified people desperately clutching at their own humanity as hard as they can. Trying SO hard not to let that glass break, to not become the thing that the framing of act 1 scene 1 tried so VERY hard to convince us they were. Context changes everything.

And the proof is in the pudding. After they eat Jackie the shock explodes throughout the cabin. The atmosphere is thick, and horrific. Now with Javi, reduced to simple meat, carefully and lovingly seperated from what made him human, so they can grieve him while they sate their natural needs, the mood post-eating is calm and soft and warm and loving. For once they’re all together, with grateful full stomachs and in a time of peace and plenty. They’ve done the impossible and maintained their humanity and love for each other and their respect for Javi in a nearly impossible situation.

*takes a deep breath*

Which brings us to THIS asshole.

Right from the start, Jackie is only kind of part of the team. She’s the team captain, put up there by Coach Martinez, but not because she’s the best of them but because she can maybe wrangle them into doing better. And they KNOW that she’s not really one of them. They plot around her, and just don’t bring her in on it. They put up with her, more than loving her, she’s just kind of forced upon them. But she does her best, to try to maintain some semblance of order, giving pep talks and the like.

Wait, Jackie? I mean coach. My bad.

Anyway, so Jackie has one friend, Shauna. She SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to her, but Shauna’s the only one who actually likes her. And Shauna’s her connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn as to where her real loyalties lie.

Sorry I’m talking about Jackie again.... weird.

In S1E9/10 Shauna finally chooses the team, for real. And Jackie tries to pull her back away, but Shauna puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, you’re the odd one out. Why don’t YOU leave, Jackie? Jackie looks around at the burgeoning cult, she thinks “Look at these evil monstrous bitches, and now Shauna’s one of them TOO?” And instead of finding a compromise, instead of doing introspection, instead of anything like that, Jackie goes and freezes to death because it turns out that sheer rage won’t keep you warm in sub zero temperatures. Because no matter what happens, Jackie’s Right and it’s more important to her to be Right than Included. If she’s not in charge than why is she even THERE?

Hold on, I see my mistake. Let me backtrack.

Right from the start, Coach is only kind of part of the team. He’s trying to hide from his real life, from Paul and the complexities of being genuine in society by taking on the job of coaching the ‘jackets. And they KNOW that he’s not really one of them. He’s just the guy they have to listen to, because society put him there. But he tries his best, giving pep talks and the like.

So Coach has one friend, Natalie. He SEEMS popular, and everyone talks to him, but Nat’s the only one who actually likes him. (Ignore Misty, a schoolgirl comphet crush is not the same thing). And Nat’s his connection point to the team. She’s got one foot on each side, and is torn to where her real loyalties lie. Sometimes she’s on the bench with Coach, complaining about the state of things. Sometimes she’s in the thick of it with them all, and Coach is nowhere to be found.

In S2E9, Nat finally chooses the team, for real. And Coach tries to pull her back, but Nat puts her foot down. No way, she counters, I’m ON the team, I’m worse than them, you’re the odd one out. Go, save yourself, you don’t belong in this place. Coach looks at a table covered in blood and gore, at Nat’s face, at the rest of the team pledging fealty to her. And instead of looking for context, or looking for compromise, or even remotely trying to understand what he’s looking at he thinks

Look at these evil monstrous bitches. They’re eating each other. They’ve all gone mad. They’ve even gotten Nat now. There’s no hope for them, there’s no hope for anyone out here.

And he decides that they’re corrupt. That the way you deal with that is fire. And he’s wrong.

(I have a theory that he’s gone and jumped off the cliff, that he set the fire to clear the corruption, and now like Jackie, unable to live in this situation any longer, he’s decided to die himself. I’d not be surprised to find him in s3e1 that way)

Jackie was a frustrating, difficult person. Because no matter how things went she just COULDN’T let go of the fact that she was trying to fit a mold that just didn’t suit her. She was raised with super high expectations, when she was really just kind of mid. And that’s fine, honestly, most people ARE mid, that’s why it’s mid. But she refused to see that those around her were shedding their social pressures, were adapting to the wilderness. They weren’t having a good time, they weren’t hunting and foraging because they were out there, camping for fun. Nobody wanted to be there. They were just trying not to complain about it, because they were all in the same boat.

Coach is similar. He simply won’t adapt. Refuses to. I mean this is a guy who’s STILL trying to live in the closet when there’s open lesbians making out in public around him. Who thinks of others as inherently monstrous when he himself, as a gay man, should know better. Because that’s what trying to fit your society-assigned role does to you.

It’s no accident that he and Jackie both spend a long time in the woods and neither of them can do something as basic as start a fucking campfire. Javi, a little kid, survived for MONTHS on his own in that cave. Coach couldn’t make it a day alone. Jackie couldn’t get through a night. They both rely so heavily on the team without ever once recognising it. Because SOMEONE was keeping the fires going. They both just ... refused to engage.

And just like Jackie can’t see that they’re not having fun out there in the woods, on the knifes edge of survival, Coach can’t see that they’re not having fun when they are so desperate they feel it’s warranted to sacrifice one of their own. He always thought of them as monsters, and he just sees what he expects to: a bunch of stupid useless teenage girls, finally doing what he always expected they would.

At any point... At ANY point he could’ve come in from the cold. He could’ve just accepted reality as they have. He could’ve taken some meat and accepted the price, as they have, joined them in their GRIEF about it, shared their humanity, and survived. Just as Jackie could’ve come in from the cold, and become part of the whole. But instead, they sit in the cold, consumed by their bitter hate, and decide that no, it’s everyone ELSE who’s wrong.

And who emerges from the burning cabin? A bunch of scared kids. Shauna, the FIRST cannibal, who saves Jackie’s prom dress before anything else. Travis, who grabs Javi’s wolf. Nat who grabs the ammunition - that they NEVER use on each other - because if they lost that they’d get SERIOUSLY desperate. And they protect each other, they make sure everyone makes it out. These supposed monsters who are so far gone they don’t even care about eating each other go out of their way to save each other, not just themselves.

Because Coach is wrong. Just like Jackie was wrong. Just like WE were wrong, in s1e1. Which brings me to my actual point.

This question is asked so many times in S1 it’s almost a mantra. And the ‘jackets’ oath of silence really builds up that it must’ve been something REALLY bad, right? But S2E9 has really made me recognise that fundamentally... Act 1 Scene 1 is entirely what everyone who asks this question is expecting.

Imagine they DID know what really happened out there. With that bloodthirsty fucking look in their eyes...

They’re not looking for an answer. They’re looking for a story. For an exciting spooky nightmare they didn’t take part in, so they can get a shiver and a thrill they didn’t earn.

They’re not looking for a love story. They’re not looking to hear how HARD these scared, tragic, broken people fought to hold onto their morals and their humanity and their sanity even against their own survival. They’re not interested in Shauna blinding herself just to try to stop her hands from shaking. They’re not looking to hear about Travis choking down the blood of his brother just to make sure that he can really FEEL it. So he can share the guilt, and never ever pretend like it’s Just Meat. The look in his eye when he can’t think of any good response to Van’s arguments that he needs to let Javi save him. What they want is...

They don’t want the context. And if the ‘jackets ever did try to tell anybody what actually DID happen out there, all they would see is ... Episode 1, Act 1, Scene 1. A bunch of monsters. Eating each other. Just like Jackie. Just like Coach. Just like we did, on first glance.

I’ve been saying this whole time that Yellowjackets is doing something really special. That it’s letting us see behind the curtain, that while everyone’s asking this big question, “what really happened?”, we’re the ones who get to know. Because it can’t be told. It can’t be spoken. It can only be seen. Experienced. I think that S2 has finally finished the first major arc in the teen timeline, that we now have the context to understand what comes next. And I do believe that it will get messy, it will devolve. Into fighting and screaming and battles. It’s tragic, but it looks like that’s the downward spiral, spiraling. As Travis and Nat deal with the guilt of what they did with Javi for each other. As Shauna and Nat butt heads and people pick sides. As Misty Mistys. As resources get even more desperate now their shelter is gone. As potentially new people (hikers? other cabin people?) get brought into conflict with them (I believe the cabin is a smoke signal, personally).

But don’t ever forget that we got here with love. Expect that the downward spiral will be lubricated with toxic, broken, codependant, self-destructive love as well. Watch them love each other to death... they’ve already begun.

#yellowjackets #spoilers #theories #Long post #no really long post

2K notes · View notes

faithshouseofchaos · 3 months

Text

Little Wolff x Oscar piastri

Tagged- @ashy-kit @astraeaworld @67-angelofthelordme-67 @alwayzbeenale @a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life @badassturtle13 @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @faithsotherhouseofchaos @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @formulas-bitch @hangmandruigandmav @hrts4scarr @hollie911 @ironcowboycopnickel @jeffs77 @kimiracing07 @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @norrisleclercf1 @purplephantomwolf @omgsuperstarg @otako5811 @toasttt11 @vellicora @venusisnothere @vivwritesfics

A year after you and Oscar had gotten married you had begun to feel off. You couldn’t keep food down, your emotions were more heightened than normal and you snapped at everything and everyone. You didn’t know what was going on.it was until your brother Logan was visiting when you figured it out. Well more like Logan figured it out. You both were sitting on the couch eating and watching movies catching up on some serious brother sister time.

Logan was driving you crazy. He kept staring at you and shaking his head like he was debating something.

“Do you hear that?” Logan asked, pausing the tv.

“Hear what?” You asked, groaning in frustration.

“Heartbeats” Logan says

“Yeah mine and yours” you said looking at him

“No well yes but there’s two others coming from inside the house” Logan says looking at you.

“Your crazy and you're hearing things Logan”

“No I’m not crazy or hearing things” he said.

“You have to be hearing things Logan because of your hearing two extra heart beats then that means I’m—“ you stop mid sentence.

“Oh my god!” You and Logan yell out standing up.

“You're pregnant!” “I’m pregnant” you both yell out.

Suddenly everything you had been feeling over the last week started to make sense. For some reason you hadn’t realized that you could be pregnant. All the symptoms were pointing towards pregnancy but you for some reason hadn’t thought of the possibility. Now that you think about it you’re wondering how you never realized the fact because you didn’t get your period last month and there was the matter of your clothes being a little bit more snug than usual.

Immediately after the epiphany, a flood of different emotions washed over you. Excitement, stress, anxiety, worry, joy, all of it hitting you all at the same time. You felt your heart start to race as you thought about all the things that comes with being pregnant.

“I can’t believe this” you say, your voice a mix between excitement and anxiety, but Logan says nothing and instead just wraps his arms around you, embracing you. You look up at him as this overwhelming feeling of joy filled you as you buried yourself into his arms.

“My sister is pregnant and I’m going to be an uncle” Logan says

“I’m gonna be a mother” you say as you hug him tighter.

“I know, you’re gonna be a great mom” Logan says as he rubs your back comfortingly.

“Oh my god Oscar I can’t wait to tell Oscar” you said.

“I know, I know he’s gonna be excited” Logan says as he gently pulls you off of him to look at you.

“My sister and best friend are going to be parents!” Logan says smiling

“I know, I still can’t believe it” you say as you smile and then suddenly remember something else and you get a concerned look on your face. “Logan what if the babies inherited our werewolf traits” you ask as a mixture of fear and more excitement fill you.

“I don’t know but if that happens then they’ll be the cutest werewolf babies ever” Logan says trying to calm you down.

“There’s a chance” Logan says “but if they did, they wouldn’t do full transformations yet. They wouldn’t for a few years” he says.

“Logan we were six when we first shifted” you said reminding him

“I know but that was an extreme situation” Logan says “normally it can take a few years until the first transformation” he says as you hear your husband Oscar walking down the hall towards you.

“Hey,what are you two talking about?” Oscar asks as he leans against the doorway and looks at the both of you.

“Your wife has something to tell you” Logan says looking at you as he raises his eyebrows.

“And what’s that?” Oscar asks as he looks directly at you.

“I’m pregnant” you say as your heart speeds up a bit as you wait for his reaction.

Oscar’s eyes widened as the words hit him. For a moment it seemed like he almost couldn’t process what you had just said. His shock was evident on his face as he stood there, trying to process what you had told him.

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Oscar’s face went through a series of different emotions. Surprise, joy, but there was also a tinge of anxiety. After a few seconds of just standing there, Oscar finally spoke.

“Wait, really?” He asks as his eyes search yours.

“Yes, I’m really pregnant” you say as you feel a sigh of relief as the weight that had been growing since you found out was finally lifted.

“Oh my god” he says as he steps towards you and wraps both his arms around you “you're really going to be a mom” he says “I’m gonna be a dad… oh my god” he smiles broadly as his hands go to your growing belly.

“I know!” You say as you feel excitement run through your entire body. “I can’t believe… I can’t believe that I’m going to be a mom” you pause as you bury your face in his neck as he holds you.

He leans his head down and kisses the top of your head as he holds you in his arms. “I’m so excited” he says as he rocks you back and forth slightly. You feel the movement of his chest rise and fall as you notice that his excitement is just as pronounced as yours.

He pulls back a bit and looks at you, studying your face as he takes in your growing belly. He gently places his hands on your stomach before saying “I can’t believe we’re gonna be parents… I can’t believe it”.

Seeing how happy all this is making him just makes you feel so happy. Your heart is filled with joy at his reaction and the thought that you and him are about to create a life together. “I know, I still can’t believe it either” you say as you look up at him.

“My little wolf and I are gonna have wolf pups” Oscar says.

Hearing him say that, you feel yourself smile as you laugh a little at the thought of you having werewolf babies. “I guess we’re gonna have two lil fur balls running around then” you say as he gives you a playful smile.

The two of you stay like that for a while, you in his arms and your forehead pressed up against his chest. You hear his heartbeat thumping gently against your face, matching your own rhythm. As you think about the two of you being parents, you feel a wave of calmness wash over you as you feel nothing but pure contentment in your husband's arms.

109 notes · View notes

shaunamilfman · 7 months

Text

Everything Has Changed

Summary: "You’ve never really been close to Nat, but the two of you strike up a surprising friendship after sitting next to each other on the game bus one day. The more you hang out the more you realize that you want more from her, but does she want the same?"

You're practically wheezing by the time you reach the bus. You don’t know why Jackie insists on the team leaving five minutes after the last bell, but in the back of your mind you wish she stubs her toe for it. Fucking calculus always had to be clear on the other side of campus, and 3 flights of stairs away. You think Jackie should count herself lucky you decided to walk all the way over in the first place.

You slow down to a stop next to Lottie, breathing heavily. She turns her head to look at you, a pleased expression on her face. “We can’t lose now! Y/N’s brought their best Michael Myers impression!” Van jokes, shooting you a quick grin. You go still and hold your hand up as if you were holding a particularly large knife. Van laughs so hard that you almost miss it. You can faintly hear muffled laughter and you glance around to find it. You’re strangely pleased when you realize it was Natalie. You grin at her but she quickly hides her own beneath her patented cool girl look.

Your jaws clenched tight when Jackie shows up five minutes late to her own bus schedule with Shauna in tow. Deep breaths. You remind yourself. “You’re late, Jackie.” Natalie says wryly. “Did someone forget to tell you what time we’re leaving?” You decide to skip the inevitable confrontation and quickly step on the bus after Lottie, intending on taking your usual seat next to her

You can faintly hear Jackie scoff and make, what you assume to be, a disparaging comment towards Natalie. You aren’t particularly concerned about it. You’ve had a long day and you can’t wait to sit do-. Your eyes narrow when you realize that Laura Lee is sitting in your seat. You speed up intending to take your seat back when Lottie shoots you a pleading glance, eyes moving between the two of you. You give your best friend a hard look but she pouts up at you from her seat. You sigh and turn around to look for another seat.

Of course, the only seat left is next to a fuming Natalie. Even Misty had snagged a seat next to Coach Ben at the front. You slip into the seat next to her and she looks over you and gives you an assessing look before deciding not to bother with you. She stares out the window with her jaw clenched hard.

You zone out for a while as the bus pulls out of the parking lot thinking about your upcoming game. After a while you notice that the sun keeps reflecting off your watch to the other side of the bus. You watch the beam for a second and start to smirk as you come to an important realization.

You slump down a little further in your seat, trying to get the angle just right. Shift a little left, a little more… There! You Think. You nudge Natalie in the side gently and she turns her head to look at you, her expression stiff. You make quick eye contact with her and glance down at your watch. She follows and looks at you a little confused.

You nudge your head over towards Jackie. She looks over just as Jackie groans in annoyance, holding her hand over her eye. It seems that someone was reflecting sunlight in her eyes. She shifts positions thinking it’s from the window, but you just change the angle of your watch. Natalie shakes with silent laughter next to you and turns her face towards the window to stifle her cheeky grin.

You don’t speak for the rest of the drive, but when you catch her eye later she nods at you in greeting. You’re pretty content with it, to be honest. It’s the most contact you think the two of you have ever shared. You put it out of your mind and don’t think about it for a long time. It didn’t seem all that important at the time.

…

“There’s no way,” You argue.

“No! I’m telling you it’s true!” Lottie says excitedly. The two of you walk out of the building with your arms linked at the elbow.

“Mari’s boyfriend seriously left her for her cousin?” You ask incredulously.

“No,” Lottie draws out dramatically. “He left her for his cousin!” You can’t even stifle your surprised gasp.

“His own cousin?” You ask laughing hard against her shoulder. Lottie’s grin is so wide that it splits her face. She starts to reply when she looks around and stops curiously.

“Why is Nat waiting for you by your car?” She asks. You lift your head and look confused.

“I mean surely she’s just waiting near my ca-” You start. Huh. You think. She’s leaning against your car, unmistakably waiting for you. “I don’t know. I should probably go find out though.” You say.

Lottie hums in agreement and gently runs her hand down your arm as she lets go of you. She pulls you into a tight hug for a long moment before letting go. “My parents are still out of town,” She says darkly. “Call me later?” You nod quickly and squeeze her hand before the two of you separate to your cars. Or, rather, she goes to her driver's car. Rich people.

“Hey,” Natalie says cautiously as you walk up to her.

You flash her a quick smile. “Hey.”

The look on her face is unreadable as she carefully says, “Do you wanna like… Hang out, maybe?” The surprise must be clear on your face because she scoffs and immediately pushes away from your car as if it burnt her. “Whatev-” She starts.

“Sure.” You interrupt, unlocking the doors to your car. “I’d really like that, Natalie.” She reaches for the handle and plops down in the passenger seat next to you.

“It’s Nat. None of that Natalie bullshit,” Nat warns, waving her finger at you in a mocking threat.

“Nat.” You repeat softly. Louder you say, “It suits you.” She looks at you unsurely before shrugging.

“If you say so,” She says, leaning back in her seat.

You start the car and gesture towards the glove compartment. “CD’s are in there if you want to pick one.” She looks you up and down and snickers, but opens the glove compartment anyways. She riffles through it for a bit, looking bored until she finds it.

Her eyes light up as she pulls it out to look at it. “You like Nirvana?” She asks, grinning at you. “I do too.” You can’t help but laugh at her.

“No,” You say, as if astonished. “Nat Scatorrcio, liking Nirvana? There’s just no way. I don’t believe it.” She scoffs and turns to look out the window, but you can see that she’s blushing a bit out of the corner of your eye. You grin at her and hold your hand out for the CD.

“What if I don’t want to listen to it now?” She says as she moves the CD out of your reach. You shrug.

“Suppose we could talk about our feelings. Any special boys in your life, Nat?” You ask mockingly. She huffs a laugh as she hurries to put the CD in, effectively ending that particular line of questioning. You can’t hide the smug look of satisfaction on your face, but choose not to acknowledge it aloud. Judging by the way she crosses her arms moodily, you think she’s got the point anyways.

“So…” You say as you unlock the door, “Was there anything in particular you wanted to do?” Nat walks in with the strap of her bag on one shoulder and looks around your house slowly. She steps towards the wall of family photos and seems to fixate on it for a while before she can tear her eyes away.

She looks a little unsure, like she feels out of place. “Not really,” She admits dryly, “Didn’t really plan that far ahead.” You smile softly at her as you try to seem welcoming. She relaxes and seems to appreciate the gesture.

“A movie then?” You ask. She grins mockingly at you.

“How about,” She says slowly, like she’s deep in thought “We watch Halloween?” You scoff and push gently at her shoulder in reproach.

“Oh great,” You say, “She’s funny.” You start to reach for her arm to drag her off to the living room, but quickly stop the motion when you notice the wary way she watches your hand. “Hope you're committed to it, Nat. We’re definitely watching it now.” You say as you gesture towards the living room. She grins quickly as she smugly walks off.

…

You're laughing so hard it's turned into wheezing as you desperately try to stay upright. Van, who's laughing just as hard, grabs onto your forearm to steady herself. Tai stands there grinning smugly, happy to have made the both of you lose it so completely. You're not sure that you could explain the joke if prompted, but you swear it's one of the best you've ever heard. Van clearly agrees, but she thinks all of Tai's jokes are funny.

You're trying to catch your breath when you get the sudden feeling someone's looking at you. You glance curiously at Nat as you catch her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's watching you with an unreadable expression and turns away the second you look back at her. You've noticed her looking at you like that the last few weeks since you've become friends. You're not sure what her deal is, but you figure she'll bring it up when she's ready.

You and Lottie are arguing in low tones by your car as Nat walks over. You snap out of the argument immediately when you see her. "Hey," You say.

"Hey," She returns. Lottie gives you a significant look as she glances towards Nat. You shake your head quickly and pull her into a quick hug before walking off with Nat.

You drive mostly in silence as Nat is clearly deep in thought. You're just about to turn off onto the side road when she turns to you and asks, "Do you wanna come over?" You stiffen in shock, unable to hide your surprise. You nod slowly and keep driving.

You've taken Nat home plenty of times since that bus ride, but she's never allowed you near her home. She always made you drop her off on the side road. You're interrupted from your musings as you pull into the grass near her trailer and turn the car off.

You're undeniably curious but quietly follow behind Nat as she leads you inside. You fight hard to keep your eyes level even though you're burning with morbid curiosity. You knew her dad was shot right outside. Everyone did, even if no one was brave enough to mention it to her face. You got the strangest sense that she was testing you though, so no matter how curious you were you didn't let it show on your face.

You couldn't help the way your lips quirked up as you surveyed the posters on her walls. It was so undeniably Nat. You flopped down on her bed dramatically, throwing your limbs out so she had nowhere to sit. She scoffed as she pushed your legs off the bed and nearly took you with them.

"Were you raised in a barn?" She asks with a grin. You hold your hand over your heart as if shocked and make an offended gasp.

"I'm telling my mom you said that." You say. Her eyes widen.

"Don't! Don't tell Mrs. L/N." She complains, looking a little panicked. You smile softly at her. She'd taken a real liking to your mom the few times she's met her, and your mom felt the same.

"I won't." You promise. "It would be fine. She probably wouldn't believe me. I think she likes you more than me, anyways." Nat shakes her head but looks strangely pleased nonetheless.

You shift a little awkwardly on her bed, trying to get comfortable with only half your body on it. She watches you quietly with that same strange look as earlier. "What is it?" You ask.

"Why don't you touch me?" She asks quickly, like she had to spit it out. You sit up and cross your legs so you can see her better. You tilt your head to the side in an expression of confusion. She shifts uncomfortably as your continued silence makes her anxious.

"You don't touch me, ever. You touch Van, you touch Lottie, but you don't touch me. You went full contortionist rather than put your legs in my lap just then, which I've seen you do with Lottie." She says, seemingly gathering steam the longer she talks uninterrupted.

"Am I not good enough for you to touch or something? Too afraid to get your hands dirty?" She accuses. You stare at her in utter shock.

"What," You say slowly. "Are you even talking about?" She seems to deflate right before your eyes as her righteous anger leaving her in the face of your disbelief.

"You don't touch me, ever. But you touch them." She says softly, right on the verge of a whisper.

"I didn't think you liked to be touched. So I didn't." You say simply.

"I don't." She says frustratedly. You give her an exasperated look. She sighs loudly and says slowly, "I want you to touch me. Just you. Okay?"

You lean forward and place a calming hand on her forearm. She inhales sharply at the contact, watching your hand closely. She nods, slow and unsure, seemingly surprised by her own reaction. You laugh quietly at her and she looks up quickly. "Were you going to tell me you were upset? Or was I just expected to know that, Nat?" You question.

She hums in acknowledgement. "Maybe I could work on… communicating better." She admits as if it pains her. You pat her arm gently in reward and flop back against her bed. You exaggeratedly throw your legs in her lap this time and she rolls her eyes. She tentatively sets a hand down on your lower leg and gently strokes her thumb back and forth. You close your eyes and listen peacefully as Nat starts talking.

…

You storm down to the living room, undeniably pissed. When you got your hands on whatever fucking loser has called your house three times in a row at 2 AM you were going to kill someone. "Y/N?" Nat asks as you pick up the phone.

You instantly let go of your anger at the sound of the obvious fear in her voice. "Hey, Nat." You say cautiously.

"Are you busy?" She asks unsurely. You laugh softly as you answer.

"I can 100% promise I don't have any plans." You answer, leaning against the wall as you twirl the phone cord between your fingers.

"I'm on a payphone. At a gas station." She says slowly. Your eyes widen as your body tenses. What the fuck is she doing at a gas station alone this late?

"Which gas station?" You ask. "I'll come get you." She sighs loudly, relief obvious.

"I was hoping you would." She admits. "It's why I called you." She gives you the address and you rush out to get her, still in your pajamas.

You unlock the front door and Nat walks in quietly behind you. You watch her closely, the concern evident on your face. You knew she wouldn't call you like this if it wasn't an emergency. She's been so despondent though that you haven't bothered to ask her. By the time you got there she was soaked from the rain and shaking from the cold.

She stands in the middle of the living room looking uncharacteristically like a lost child. You reach for her hand and gently tug her up the stairs behind you. She lets you pull her without a fight up into your bathroom.

You push her gently back and she takes the hint and lifts herself up to sit on the bathroom counter. You step back to look through the cabinet and hand Nat a makeup wipe. She grasps it as you set it in her hand but makes no move to use it.

You watch her for a moment, considering. You take it back and start to gently remove her ruined mascara yourself. She doesn't react to it one way or the other as she stays deep in thought.

You're in the process of blow drying her hair when she seems to be more responsive. She watches you with an unreadable expression as you turn the hair dryer off and start running a brush through her hair to straighten it out. "See?" You say comfortingly. "All better."

You step out of the bathroom to go get her something to change into. She really does need to get out of those wet clothes. She's watching you with an almost desperate expression when you walk back in, as if she's surprised you came back.

You step up to her and pull her into a tight hug. You trace your fingers gently over a faint bruise that's slowly appearing on her face. "Does it still hurt?" You ask softly as you look into her eyes. She's sitting unnaturally still as she watches you.

"No." She says quietly. You think it must still hurt, but you allow her to have this lie. You nod slowly and set the clothes on the counter top. You gesture towards them and walk back to your room.

She steps into the room after you a few minutes later and you barely manage to stifle your gasp. Nat stands unsurely in the middle of the room in a big t-shirt and shorts of yours, her face lacking her usual makeup.

This is a Nat you've never seen before. You think she looks so much smaller without her usual armor. You've always thought Nat was beautiful, but she looks almost ethereal right now. She starts to fidget anxiously when you snap yourself out of it and lift the corner of your blanket invitingly.

She slides in and lays on her back shifting uncomfortably. "I don't know how to do this." She confesses shyly. You laugh.

"Not the sleepover type?" You ask.

She scoffs. "You could say that." You scoot closer towards her and push gently against her arm.

"You've got to face the other way if you want to cuddle, Nat." You say. She hesitates before slowly moving to lay on her side.

"Who said I wanted to cuddle?" She says grumpily, but makes no move to escape you when you throw an arm around her and pull her against your body.

She's quiet for a long while before she says, "Just get it over with, Y/N?"

"Get it over with?" You ask.

"Ask me what happened. I know you want to." She mutters.

"Do you want to tell me?" You ask. You can feel, rather than see the way she shakes her head. "Then I won't ask." You say.

"Stupid of you, being that nice." She says, but invites no further comment on it.

You tentatively reach a hand toward her hair, remembering all too well how brittle it looked after she first bleached it. You worried for naught as it was surprisingly soft. You smile softly as you begin to stroke her hair. She makes a quiet noise of contentment as she wiggles further into you.

"Goodnight," She murmurs sleepily.

…

You're sitting at a party a few weeks later broodily sipping your soda. You promised Nat you'd drive her home afterwards as you knew she always got wasted at parties. Your feelings for Nat had decidedly changed the more time you spent with her, but you weren't sure what you should do with them. It didn't seem to stop her, You think jealously, From letting fucking Kevyn Tan flirt with her. You sigh sullenly and decide that you might as well put yourself out there.

You catch Lottie's eye as you leave the kitchen. She raises an eyebrow in an expectant look, but you just roll your eyes at her. She's tried to convince you for weeks just to talk to Nat. It's easy for her to say, when she already has a girlfriend. You think, glancing at Laura Lee on the couch next to her.

Laura Lee waves exuberantly at you as soon as she sees you. You can't help the way the corners of your lips quirk up as you raise your hand to wave back at her. You were pretty surprised when she started tagging along to Lottie's parties, but she seemed to have a really good time with the team even if she never drank.

"Hey," You hear a quiet voice from behind you say. You turn around curiously to see Shauna standing behind you.

"Hey," You answer a little cautiously. You can't say that you've ever really spoken that much too Shauna; You can't say that anyone beside Jackie has ever really spoken much to Shauna. She's always struck you as the broody poet type so it wasn't surprising that she mostly kept to herself.

"I think you look really nice, tonight." She says awkwardly. Her eyes widen slightly and she adds in a rush, "Not that you don't always look nice." You stare at her blankly, unable to hide your surprise.

"You… You look nice too, Shauna." You offer carefully. "I like your flannel. It's a really nice pattern. Brings out your eyes." Shauna smiles genuinely at you.

"Thanks," She says. "Jackie picked it out." Jackie's head turns towards you from across the room, almost as if she could sense her name being spoken. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly in anger as she watches the two of you. You glance at Shauna and see the subtle twitch of her lips that's hidden from Jackie. Ah, You think. That's what this is.

You slap Shauna's bicep playfully as you give her a flirtatious grin. "Are you using me to make Jackie jealous? You could have just asked, you know." You say, always happy to piss off your favorite captain. Shauna looks surprised that you caught her that quickly but nods embarrassedly, the blush on her face only adding to the illusion that you're flirting with each other.

You spend the rest of the party making Jackie jealous, both of you blissfully unaware of the scathing glare being sent Shauna's way by Nat.

…

You reach a hand out to steady Nat as she nearly trips for a second time on the walk from your car to your house. "Jesus, Nat." You say fondly. "Got really fucked up tonight, huh?"

Needless to say you're pretty surprised when she rips her arm out of your grasp with a scoff and sharply says, "Whatever. You're not my mom." You stand there slack-jawed as you watch her storm up the stairs to your room.

You hesitantly follow her up the stairs and stand unsurely in the doorway as she sits on your bed fuming. "Nat?" You ask tentatively. She looks up at you. "I was just joking, you know? I don't mind taking care of you if you get too drunk." You say.

She softens and sighs loudly. "Why do you always have to be so…" She trails off.

"So what?" You ask.

"I was being such a bitch and you're still being so nice." She says honestly.

You shrug. "I wouldn't say it like that, but." You tease and she gives you a meaningless glare. "Why are you mad?" You ask.

"Saw you." She admits. "You and Shauna, I mean." She adds at your confused look.

You can't help the way you tense up at her words. "You didn't strike me as the homophobic type, Nat." You say softly.

She nearly gasps in surprise. "What?" She asks incredulously. "I was jealous, loser. Not homophobic." She looks as surprised as you do as she says it. Clearly you had shocked her so much that she spoke without meaning to.

"We weren't seriously flirting." You admit. "But Shauna likes Jackie, Nat." She groans as she buries her head in her hands.

"I was jealous of Shauna." She says tiredly. "How much clearer do I need to be?" She mutters quietly to herself.

You watch her desperately. There's nothing in the world you want more right now than for her to mean it. "I only did it because I was jealous of Kevyn." You admit. Her face splits in that cocky grin of hers.

"Do you wanna kiss about it then?" She asks happily, her voice right on the edge of slurring Maybe Lottie was right. You think. She does always seem to have a sense for these things. Still.

"You're drunk." You deflect. "Probably won't remember this tomorrow, anyways." She lets out a long exhale as she flops back against your bed.

"Kiss you in the morning then." She mutters moodily. You shrug and climb into bed next to her, watching her for a long moment.

"If you want." You say simply.

…

You're startled awake by someone shaking your arm. Your eyes open blearily as the early morning sun peers through your window. "Whatsit?" You ask drowsily. You feel the bed move as Nat shifts her weight.

"Look, here." She says. You turn to her sleepily. "See? Very sober." She teases as she leans down to kiss you. You hold still for a moment as you try to surmise if you're really awake or not. You surge forward as she starts to uncertainly pull away and continue it.

You pull back panting after a few long minutes. Flopping back against your pillow and laughing deliriously. You squeeze her hand softly as she grins down at you, shifting to straddle your hips.

"How was that?" She asks with a look just a touch more smug than she has a right to.

"Mm, I don't know." You say playfully. "I think you might still be drunk. Should try a few more times just in case."

She sighs dramatically as if assigned hard labor. "If I must." She murmurs, leaning down to meet you.

#nat scatorccio x reader #natalie scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x reader

205 notes · View notes

katelynnwrites · 9 months

Text

You With The Dark Curls (You With The Watercolour Eyes) | Laura Freigang

warnings: my subpar writing cause i really am not happy with how this turned out 🥴

word count: 1451

summary: you’re the one with the dark curls and laura’s the one with the watercolour eyes, she loves your curls and you love her eyes

a/n: requested

Laura’s watercolour eyes are what first drew you to her.

They are precisely the same shade as the ocean on a cloudy day. The prettiest of greys with the tiniest touch of blue. You think you would be happy to drown in them.

Three years of being with her and they still have the same effect on you.

Honestly, you would say that they have an even greater effect on you because you now well and truly know her.

In the clear grey blue of your girlfriend’s eyes, you can read every emotion that she is experiencing. You know when she is happy, sad or frustrated.

And you know that she is completely in love with you, just as you are with her.

You see it now, as she gently combs her fingers through your hair. She plays with the ends of it, letting your dark curls wrap around her finger.

Your girlfriend’s adoration is obvious, when her eyes meet yours in the mirror.

She smiles as she notices you watching her and presses a kiss onto your neck, to convey her affection.

The smile stays on both your faces as she reaches for your hand and leads you towards the shower.

Once inside, you switch the water setting to one that you know the blonde prefers.

She picks up on it the moment she steps under the water spray and thanks you by pulling you flush against her.

‘Laura!’ You gasp, grabbing onto her waist in fear of falling.

The Eintracht Frankfurt forward laughs, ‘Don’t worry schatz. Did you really think I would let you fall?’

‘No…’ You murmur and Laura presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades.

You shiver and she eagerly kisses you in the same spot again.

‘Lau.’ You breathe and you can feel her smile against your skin.

‘Good. Cause I would never let you fall. Except for me of course.’

She adds the last part confidently and you roll your eyes.

Your girlfriend giggles at her own silliness a moment later and you find yourself turning around to face her and blinking water out of your eyes just so that you can see her eyes properly.

Her eyes that you adore.

They’re ever changing, the grey blue shifting between minuscule shades depending on the lighting and her mood.

You think she must know of your adoration that almost borders on obsession by now but for good measure, you lean in and Laura’s infinitely alluring eyes flutter close in anticipation.

The blonde is not disappointed when you place two very delicate kisses against her eyelids.

‘Ich liebe dich.’ She promises.

‘I love you too.’ You whisper and Laura lets her hands wander across your body appreciatively.

You do the same to your girlfriend, eliciting a soft hum from her.

It’s only for a few brief moments because the both of you are tired from playing the full ninety minutes but it’s enough to assure you that she wants you and you her.

Then she just tucks your head under her chin and wraps her arms loosely around your waist while the two of you enjoy the hot water.

Unfortunately the intimate moment can’t last forever and both of you begin to actually get clean.

Laura does quietly ask if she can wash your hair though.

And as always, you say yes.

So your girlfriend squeezes out a generous portion of her own shampoo and carefully works it into your hair. Her fingers are soothing as they lightly massage your scalp.

While she does so, you can’t help but smile a secret smile to yourself at how possesive she is. Her habit of wanting you to smell like her is endearing.

The German forward helps you rinse the citrus smelling shampoo clean before repeating the process, this time with conditioner.

‘All done schatz.’ Laura tells you, leaving a kiss on the back of your neck.

You turn around to face her, tiptoeing so that you can kiss her gratefully. The way your girlfriend melts into you in response gives you butterflies inside.

‘Do you want me to wash your hair?’

‘No it’s okay, I can do it myself.’ Laura assures you.

‘You sure?’ You check and she nods.

‘Just look pretty for me while I do so okay?’ She teases and you giggle.

Your girlfriend washes her hair quickly, all the while sneaking glances at you. You chide her lightly for that, telling her that she is going to get shampoo in her eyes.

Laura does not listen to you but it does make her laugh.

When she finishes and the previously hot water runs out and begins to cool, you and the German forward step out of the shower hand in hand.

You towel dry together contentedly and then your girlfriend guides you back in front of steamed up the bathroom mirror.

She pauses for a moment to draw a smiley face on it. The action is just so Laura that you can’t stop the way your heart warms, filling with so much affection for your girl.

The blonde picks up your hairbrush, running it through your dark curls carefully.

After that, she combs her fingers through the wet strands, separating it into three sections before beginning to braid it.

She always does so when you shower together.

Laura is an expert at braiding your hair at this point, her fingers working efficiently. However your girlfriend does take her time to braid your hair.

You know she’ll say that she wants to do it for you but you know that that’s only part of the reason. It may be the main motivation but you know that she really just loves the feel of running her fingers through your dark and curly hair.

‘Love you Lau.’ You murmur as she ties off the braid.

‘I love you too.’ She whispers and then her eyes meet yours in the mirror and you’re caught off guard by how emotional they are.

They’re a beautiful claret grey now.

She means the simple sentence with her whole heart, you can see it in her gaze.

Turning around, you press a chaste kiss against her lips.

Laura lets out a soft exhale, her hands coming up to rest on your bare waist.

You can’t hide the way you shiver or the way goosebumps clearly form on your skin.

Your girlfriend notices immediately and smirks. She does however cradle your face with one hand and kiss you sweetly.

It takes some effort but you refocus your attention on getting your toothbrush out and brushing your teeth.

Laura is doing the same next to you but when you look up, at the mirror that has cleared up slightly, your girlfriend’s brilliantly stunning eyes meet yours.

And it’s like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again.

Light blonde hair that she’d joke and say is all hair dye these days, a sharp jawline that only accentuates her beauty, pink lips that feel like heaven when pressed against yours and above all, the passion that she so easily shows for the things she loves.

You’re beyond lucky to be one of those things.

The German forward quirks an eyebrow at the sudden way you fall silent.

If only she knew it was because of her. Just her being there, rinsing her mouth beside you.

You never want the domesticity of it all to end, never want to be able to stop coming home with or to Laura.

You want to do the laundry with her forever, clean the kitchen counters with her forever, pack for international camps with her forever.

Forever has a nice ring to it you decide as you wash up and put your toothbrush back beside Laura’s.

She has been waiting for you patiently.

‘Come on.’ She whispers and you follow her out into the bedroom.

You dress easily enough, Laura doing the same.

She finishes first and pulls back the covers on your shared bed.

‘I like your shirt.’ She compliments, making you chuckle.

‘Of course you do, it’s yours.’

‘Maybe I might be a little biased but I can’t help it when you’re wearing my last name on your back.’ Laura concedes.

You grin, slipping into bed, next to your girlfriend.

She spoons you close, once again tucking your head under her chin.

You’re wrapped up in everything that is Laura, her comforting smell, her clothes, her legs tangled up with yours and basically just her.

Her damp blonde hair tickles your cheek and you reach for her hand.

Your girlfriend squeezes it back gently and the reassuring pressure of it as well as her presence are the last things you register before drifting off to sleep.

German Translations:

ich liebe dich - i love you

schatz - sweetheart

#laura freigang #laura freigang x reader #laura freigang imagine #dfb frauen x reader #dfb frauen imagine #gerwnt imagine #gerwnt x reader #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso #katelynnwrites #uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader

362 notes · View notes

buckybarnesss · 8 months

Note

Something that frustrates me is that Theo can full transform into a wolf and it’s never talked about. Like how is it a big enlightenment thing for the Hales and then the evil 17 year old test tube were-creature can just do it casually and he doesn’t even USE IT FOR ANYTHING

lol fucking theo.

okay.

here we go.

i can understand how this would be frustrating and yeah it kind of is but the thing about theo is that narratively he's a derek mirror.

especially for scott and stiles.

read more because i had thoughts on this subject.

for the two of them, derek has always been there. it started with the three of them and for the type of shit they dealt with on a regular basis derek being there was comforting. even when they were actively being deeply annoyed by him because derek was safe to them in so many ways that i think that like a lot of teenagers they took for granted that he'd always be around because it's derek.

than he wasn't.

and argent left too.

it's the moment where the paradigm shifts and says "you're on your own kids".

it really pulled a rug out from under the two of them.

derek's departure at the end of season 4 in smoke and mirrors was so significant but also understated. i think people really do dismiss the amount of growth that occurred in the derek and scott relationship. fandom gets so hung up on their antagonism in seasons 1 and 2 they don't look much deeper for why they were like that and sort of ignore that season 3 spends a lot of time showing them moving away from that.

stiles and derek are more difficult to parse for some. their relationship whether you ship it or not is mostly in subtext. stiles is fucking attached by season 4.

stiles fears change. it's a huge part of his season 5 and 6a arcs. it terrifies him to lose people he cares about or have his relationship with them change.

i think it's important to remember that in smoke and mirrors, derek is all but dying in front of stiles. he's bleeding out. it doesn't look good. no one knows the dumbass is gonna evolve or whatever werewolf magic he pulled out his ass. he is dying and his last words to stiles are to go save scott.

this is after a season of where derek's been messed with magically by kate, where he's been losing his werewolf powers and lydia predicted his death.

when derek's lying there bleeding out stiles hesitates. twice.

he gets more focus than peter or braeden does in this moment. the focus is derek and stiles. we get like six close up shots of stiles being deeply affected by this and by affected i mean fucked up.

sure, derek doesn't end up actually dying but he leaves with braeden. we have no idea if they've really spoken all that much in the in-between.

stiles's face as they watch derek and argent leave does not give the vibe that he has had closure.

derek being unable to give stiles a proper goodbye is a whole other post.

it's really significant that derek leaving unmoors stiles emotionally even months later and that scott recognizes it. we are shown stiles getting sentimental and gooey over the initials d.h for a reason in creatures of the night. he misses derek.

why all this background when this post is about theo? it's because derek's absence in season 5 is glaring and tangible. it's an unsaid thing that theo is able to take advantage of.

it's a compare and contrast but sort of in opposite directions for stiles and scott.

both derek and theo grew up in beacon hills but left for a period of time before returning.

derek is immediately recognized by stiles and theo is recognized by scott.

both are accused of killing their sister. derek didn't kill laura but theo did kill tara.

derek is a born werewolf who earns his full shift which is an inherited rare gift whereas theo is a chimera artificially created by the dread doctors.

derek rejects the influence of peter and duecalion whereas theo is a tool of the dread doctors.

derek's desperation in building a pack and losing them versus theo's desperation to build a pack and killing them himself using deucalion's teachings about taking power.

derek wanting to kill lydia because he thought she was the kanima versus theo wanting lydia because he wanted her knowledge and she was the key to the hellhound

scott wanting to trust theo is an obvious course correction of how he mistrusted derek in the beginning and how he misses the connection he had with derek.

scott's just desperate for something to work out.

stiles's mistrust of theo is in contrast of how he trusted derek despite scott's insistence that derek wasn't trust worthy.

it also highlights that stiles's is on edge. he cannot afford to trust someone. not again. he cannot let another person close.

which brings us to parasomnia and the benefit of a doubt conversation.

there's a lot happening with stiles and scott during season 5. there's nogitsune fall out, them growing up and the pain that comes with it but also how stiles's behavior is increasingly paranoid and irritable. it's why theo is able to take such advantage.

but i think on some level scott misunderstands that stiles never really distrusted derek the same way he did.

stiles: "yes. okay? we followed him out here. what do you want me to say? that i'm a stalker? huh? that i'm crazy? totally paranoid? none of this is new information!" scott: "now you're gonna try to at least give him the benefit of the doubt?" stiles: "i give people benefit of the doubt! i've given a lot of benefit to a lot of people." scott: "like derek? ...kira? ...liam?"

i can not post scott's face when he's about to bring up derek to stiles.

scott may not know all the details, he may not understand them but what he does understand is derek leaving has stiles fucked up and bringing him up is going to poke at sore spot. bringing up derek was his entire point. adding kira and liam weren't the important part of this segment of conversation. i don't even think stiles ever mistrusted kira prior to when she begins to lose control of her fox.

scott is trying to appeal to stiles's derek feels and stiles just ends up super mad about it.

so to me in the end, a lot of scott and stiles's whole theo issue was really about derek.

(here's how i can make everything about derek hale lol).

theo being able to shift really was only to compare him to derek lol and who knows if he can even still accomplish this after he was returned from hell. he kind of went back to factory settings. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

tl;dr season 5 theo is derek-lite.

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #teen wolf #theo raeken #sterek #just in case

90 notes · View notes

danwhobrowses · 2 months

Text

Okay so we are doing a very rare third post about the events of Critical Role campaign 3 episode 91 so avoid if you still haven't watched it because there will be spoilers again

Right. So I'm not gonna talk more about the Reincarnate vs Stay Dead debate with FCG, I still prefer Reincarnate for reasons I put in my last post but now I'm gonna talk about the other route, if FCG stays dead, what becomes of his remains?

It is almost ironic that a PC death happened a few episodes after Matt created the Ruidian custom of making weapons from a loved one's remains, something Ashton and Fearne were quite intrigued by, so I wonder if the Hells would do the same - in a way carrying a little bit of FCG with them to continue the fight. Outside of his loot it's hard to tell what the Hells can use, if it were me I'd have each of the Hells have a bracelet from his hair at the least, but the rest would probably need to be left in the hands of tinkerers to create things that may enhance the Hells' combat; maybe a conductive whip for Imogen to use for her more lightning-based magic for instance, I can also see Ashton fixing FCG's head onto their outfit or hammer and Chetney and Laudna maybe making little FCG dolls for each of them too.

Loot-wise I had to look at the wiki to remind myself of all the stuff FCG had on them, as well as see what Otohan had but outside of the backpack and swords it wasn't quite descriptive at this point, and even then there's no guarantee it'll all be undamaged from the blast, but there were some notable things that could end up in the Hells' hands to use. I feel like we're all in agreement that if FCG doesn't come back that Ashton keeps the Coin of the Changebringer, perhaps even have it affixed to their hammer so to feel like FCG is still fighting with them. The full extent of its magical properties were not shown outside of the Yes/No question and 1 bout of Lucky per day, but on Ashton's hammer the daily reroll might end up being helpful, though they are not a fan of the gods a little FCG-aided divine buffing could go a long way. Other than that, Ashton probably should claim the two Potions of Possibility FCG had, my earlier post mentioned my belief that Otohan's backpack should go to them because Dunamancy (I didn't however mention how echoes can work as temporary meat shields for Ashton to better negate enemy attacks that'd otherwise be aimed at the party) and the logic is the same here, Matt would probably have to try and balance Ashton's Dunamancy and Titan buffs so to not take all four potions (or more, think Fearne and Orym have one too right? *checks* oh and Laudna so that's 7 potions!) at once but those seem to be key loot Ashton should keep a hold of.

Outside of combat FCG would be helpful in using Identify when the Hells came across new objects. While Chetney has Grim Psychometry to do something similar, the Goggles of Object Reading that FCG used could be taken by Imogen - which in turn may provide Laura and the fandom a means to canonize glasses on the character - along with the Staff of Dark Odyssey that she has used before.

Fearne is another who could hold the Staff, but I find it unlikely. She would probably take the rod used to plane-shift to the Fey Realm, in a way being a key to home if she needs it. I can see her taking the Ivory Branch as well, albeit temporarily until a new healer presents themselves, due to the +1 Spell attack and +1d4 Healing. She might keep the Ruidian mood ring but I feel like that wouldn't survive the blast, same with the recipes FCG collected, though it'd be nice if someone were able to carry on his memory that way; Fearne, Ashton or Orym would be likely candidates for that.

Laudna would perhaps be able to use most of the scrap remains of FCG for her constructs, perhaps a little buffing for Pate is in order plus she doesn't use Sashimi often. Chetney only really works in wood so he probably won't take the remains, stuff such as his saws and propeller could be used to empower Laudna's own creations, maybe even the fake legs too.

One weapon I think will not end in Laudna's hands however is the Grapple cannon, which could suit either Orym or Chetney. Orym is the better candidate to use it though, given the 20 Dexterity compared to Chetney's 14, additionally there is the +1 Mithril Half-Plate Armor, which could be an improvement for either.

If Orym were to get both I could see it being a trade for Chetney not getting anything, in turn granting Chetney both of Otohan's swords to use - since Orym may want nothing to do with her equipment given her role in killing their family. Otherwise I can see Chetney maybe grabbing the saws ahead of Laudna, maybe the goggles but he does already have the monocle, and any utensils he can repurpose for crafting. There is also the possibility of him getting the Aeoran Scrambling Devices that we know little about, maybe adding a little 'this wouldn't happen if it were wooden' catharsis for Chet if he used them on machines.

The only other thing that is left from FCG are the bolt thrower and the All-Minds-Burn drugs. The latter could go to anyone but Ashton, Fearne and Imogen are more likely (she still needs to plant that seed), the bolt thrower could go to Laudna, she never used Bor'dor's slingshot with the Draconic Rune that Prism added to it, or to Chetney to fire a chisel. His coat he designed like FRIDA's would probably be kept for her to be given too. Outside of that the only other specific loot we currently know from Otohan is the Fake Treshi Ring for Scrying (not its official name), which won't be of use to the Hells since the next time they get close to a major enemy they will be fighting, but perhaps it could be placed in the hands of Liliana Temult, either to keep track of her or to plant on Ludinus so the Hells can track his movements instead.

31 notes · View notes

verysium · 4 months

Note

what do you read in your spare time? you’re one of the most eloquent users i know, id love to hear how you find the media you consume and what your favorites are

omg ei 😊 welcome back to the inbox! thank you for your sweet words although i'm probably not qualified enough to be considered the full definition of eloquent. i am going to preface this post by saying that i definitely don't read as much as i should, so this list is not going to be comprehensive whatsoever. the last time i even visited an in-person library was like half a decade ago, and since then my spare time has been nonexistent lmao. anyways, here are some of my favorite/most recent reads as listed by author:

POETRY

richard siken: i think siken is already well-known both in the literary world and in whatever booktok deems is popular culture. if you don't already know him though, he is best known for his poetry collection crush, which delves into themes of obsession, gay love, and violent eroticism. i actually read this chapbook unknowingly. as in i was hounding sketchy pdf download sites at 3 AM and saw a man with bloodied lips on the cover and decided to read it. he basically became my summer fever dream after that. the way he juxtaposes images is seamless, smoother than water. only richard siken can talk about violence without making it sound violent. i also enjoyed his other poetry collection war of the foxes, especially "portrait of fryderyk in shifting light." i think light is a common motif throughout most of his poems, and he manipulates it effortlessly. the most recent piece i read from him is "piano lesson." i have nothing left to say that he didn't already say, so i would just recommend reading it for yourself. he is the og big brain when it comes to word play.

ocean vuong: he's unforgettable, and i mean that literally because nobody forgets a person named ocean. time is a mother was exactly what the name suggests: an exploration of grief, loss, and the rewind of time after his mother's death. some of the poems are almost cinematic in quality. "künstlerroman" is my favorite because it feels exactly like watching a video tape in reverse. i think his most famous work is "someday i'll love ocean vuong." it was the first piece i ever read from him, and to this day, it remains my comfort poem.

silas denver melvin: i only recently discovered him through his chapbook grit. i think he's also on tumblr @/sweatermuppet. he writes a lot on the trans experience, and his work gives me a mix of southern gothic and country vibes. would definitely read his other publications if i had the time.

chen chen: one thing about chen chen is that he always comes to devour. my favorite works from him are "self-portrait as so much potential" and "song of the anti-sisyphus." you have to put on your thinking cap for some of his poems, but once you grasp the meaning, everything makes sense all at once.

franny choi: "disaster means without a star" was the entire inspiration behind my first rin fic. i relate to her more personally in regards to the diaspora experience, but her collections are worth reading in general because of the sheer quality.

pages matam: his poem "piñata" was what got me into slam poetry. his work mostly consists of political commentary which i feel is particularly relevant in today's social climate. "on learning america's english" also resonates with people who have encountered the entire losing/learning immigrant tongues experience.

laura lamb brown-lavolie: i've only read one spoken word poem from her, and tbh i only needed to read one. "on this the 100th anniversary of the sinking of the titanic, we reconsider the buoyancy of the human heart" is my two-headed calf poem. one day i will get this tattooed.

brendan constantine: once again, this was the result of me being chronically online coupled with the boredom of an august heat wave. i found "the opposites game" through TED. honestly, i was a bit unsure about it at first, but it's a cute little poem that makes you really delve into the intricacies of craft.

TEEN POETRY & PROSE

yasmeen khan: she could mouth her words onto every square inch of my body, and i would still be coming back for more. ingraining them into flesh is not enough. "movie stars" is by far my favorite work from her. she writes about femininity and womanhood so profoundly. it's tragic, but really i wouldn't have it end any other way.

kaya dierks: her writing is basically middle-of-nowhere small town stoner teenage life but personified. "crushed" is my favorite piece from her. the soundtrack for this work was definitely by ethel cain, and you cannot convince me otherwise.

FICTION

madeline miller: i was first introduced to her when i read the song of achilles. let's just say that book had me nonverbal for the greater half of three months. it was my metaphorical hatchet. i buried it once, and i never want to dig it up again. i read circe a few years later. the first time was during the blue hour at an airport, right between one red-eye flight and another transfer. i don't even remember that experience because i was heavily sleep-deprived. i read it again recently for a literature course, this time for academic analysis. overall, i enjoy the the heroine-centric narrative. typically, i'm a bit wary of novels with heavy feminist themes because they either project their agenda too strongly or they run the risk of misrepresentation. circe doesn't exactly have that problem. it was more about empowerment and less about exercising power over others.

charlotte brontë: as a historical figure, brontë was questionable, but jane eyre most certainly was not. that book rewired my brain, and that is saying something because i have never read any classic by choice. and it is so important to me that jane was the ugliest, plainest girl you could ever imagine. also cus i unironically enjoy angst, and this book was full of dramatic misunderstandings.

yoko ogawa: i love japanese literature, so there is no reason not to include this one here. "a peddler of tears" is one of my favorite short stories. i did not expect the ending at all, but it was welcome. something about violence, body gore, and dismemberment being framed as romantic and semi-erotic just gets to me. sign me the hell up. hotel iris is a hit-or-miss with some people. either you like the fact that art makes you uncomfortable or you shut it down completely. for me, i was alright with exploring some of its darker themes, but read at your own discretion.

NONFICTION

ross gay: he lives up to his name both in optimism and in carefree joy. probably one of my favorite creative nonfiction authors simply based off the accessibility of his writing style. easy to read and understand but still hits you with the full force of a semi-truck. i would recommend his book inciting joy. it's a collection of essays that delve into grief, but since this is ross gay, he makes it seem like a quintessential part of life.

paul kalanithi: sixteen-year-old me was mind blown by him cus before that doctors were shrewish old men with bald spots and sterile coats, not poetic surgeons who dissected the anatomy of word and recited t.s. eliot in the most heart-wrenching way possible. he is everything i want to become in both life and death. when breath becomes air literally does take your breath away.

#asks #moots ♡

31 notes · View notes

lauralot89 · 20 days

Text

well that was a thing

#Laura watches Last Shift

0 notes

randomficrecss · 11 months

Note

Hi!! Can you recommend some of your favourite sterek fics?

sorry it’s taken so long but yes absolutely!! one of my favorite ships to read about :) lmk if you’ve read all of these already

Sterek Fic Rec

first of all i would recommend reading anything by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella)

We've Written Volumes (in Blood and Scars and Ink) by notthequiettype

E | 25.9k | 1/1 | hurt/comfort, injuries, sexual content

Stiles is on his back on hard-packed dirt. He's cold and there are leaves stuck to his neck and there's a four inch gash in his side that he thinks he can feel his ribs through. There's so much blood around him he feels like he's floating on a pond and everything is so much dimmer above him than it was a minute ago, which is saying something because he's in the dark center of the forest in the middle of the night. And the worst of it is that he's alone, totally alone with the smell of his own blood drowning him and the soft side of him run through by a tree.

As his eyes slip shut, the last thing he thinks is, "This is going to kill my dad."

Illuminated by ZainClaw

T | 5k | 1/1 | hurt/comfort, love confessions, first kiss, fluff

"Because I'm falling in love with you and it's scaring the hell out of me.”

Hallowed Grounds by damnfancyscotch

M | 109.5k | 16/16 | full shift werewolves, hurt stiles, slow burn, alive laura hale, magical stiles, BAMF stiles

Everything in Beacon Hills is the same when Stiles comes home from college.

Well, except for the fact that he's a published author now, Scott is halfway across the world with a travelling circus, Erica's epilepsy has been cured, her boss offers him a job too, and there's this weird black dog that seems to be following him around just to judge him.

Oh, and the murders, of course.

But other than that stuff... totally the same old BH.

Suspicious Minds by HaleHole (SweetFanfics)

E | 40.1k | 1/1 | wolf derek, single parent stiles, alive laura hale

“Don’t feed Balto your pizza,” Stiles mildly warns his daughter.

“Derek.”

Stiles pauses, mouth open and cheese sliding off the pizza as he parrots, “Derek? Who’s Derek?”

His daughter rolls her eyes, like Stiles has just asked her the dumbest question ever. “The wolf, Daddy!”

“You changed his name?” Stiles asks in surprise. Usually she’s pretty set about naming things. Her doll’s name was decided two seconds after receiving it, the car has been Alonzo for three years now, and the toaster ‘Pop’ for the last six months.

Meg nods, prodding the sliding cheese back on top of her slice. “Yeah. He told me his name is Derek. And that he doesn’t really like Balto.”

“Is that right?” he asks, eyeing the wolf who seems far too interested in watching a pair of animated moose arguing. It’s official. This wolf is weird. This whole situation is weird.

Separated from Laura after being cornered by some hunters, an injured Derek finds himself being rescued by Stiles and his young daughter. In more than one way.

After The Storm by matildajones

M | 41.3k | 4/4 | kid fic, werewolf reveal, slow build, police officer stiles, hurt/comfort

Derek's mind flits to Stiles’ face. It’s a hard face to forget and for some reason Stiles is one of the only things Derek can think about without feeling like he’s lost something.

Erica grins. “When are you going to see him next?”

“He’s a cop,” Derek says gruffly.

“So?”

Derek remembers being at the station, he remembers all those fucking people who thought he had killed his own sister. Laura. He hates all of them, and says as much aloud.

Erica hums. “Sounded like you didn’t hate him.”

Dealing with the death of his sister, Derek spends most of his time helping out his family. He meets Stiles and as soon as Derek's willing to admit his attraction towards him, he discovers that Stiles is dealing with his own problems at work. He needs help - help that Derek's all too willing to give. There's something about Derek with his strange, glowing eyes and quick ability to heal that makes Stiles trust him when maybe he shouldn't.

#sterek #sterek fics #fanfic #fanfic rec #derek hale x stiles stilinski #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf fic rec #teen wolf #fanfiction

140 notes · View notes

cellard0ors · 6 months

Text

Fic: Bare

Fandom: The Quarry

Pairing: Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

Rating: EXPLICIT

Summary: Travis discovers Laura has a surprise.

Warning(s): SEX. Creampie. Waxed body parts. Rough sex. Language.

Notes: While technically this falls within 'The Full Deck series' it is probably the least connected one - i.e., anyone could read this without having read anything else in the series.

Travis would never dream of taking advantage of his fiancée.

...that being said.

It's hard to resist the temptation Laura presents, especially when she's asleep. It's in the very early hours of the morning and Travis had actually been enjoying some time off. The new sheriff of North Kill has been so busy with his re-election campaign and not wanting Travis to be a part of it, that he approved of Travis having a little leave with pay.

Travis isn't going to complain. He deserves the rest, never mind it's only being given to him because Sheriff Malloy doesn't want to remind the townsfolk of who used to be in his position - as if seeing Travis will cause them to riot and ask for his reinstatement. Travis isn't interested in being reinstated. He isn't interested in anything save the lovely young blonde currently sleeping in his bed - their bed.

The thought warms his heart and he recognizes how watching her in this moment is probably creepy, but - again - hard not to. His future wife, Laura Kearney, adorable and vulnerable in sleep.

She worked a hard, late shift last night and she's clearly exhausted. He didn't even feel her get into bed with him, just woke up to find her next to him - deliciously unclothed save a pair of red and black plaid boy shorts on. It was tempting this morning to wake her (in a sexy fashion) but his need for the restroom and breakfast had taken over. So, Travis got up and did his normal morning routine.

Now?

Now he can get back to his original idea - after all, he's still in his pajamas - no reason not to crawl right back into bed with her. He carefully pulls back the sheets enough to climb under, kissing her naked left shoulder as he does so.

Laura murmurs in her sleep, but doesn't wake and Travis is gentle as he eases the curves of her body up against his, cuddling her close. Again, slight noises from deep within her throat, but nothing to signal her as fully conscious.

Travis's lips rest against the nape of her neck, tiny golden curls tickling his nose as one of his hands spans over her left hip, squeezing it with the breadth of his palm before his clever fingers ease their way down the front elastic of her underwear, his hand intent on cupping her sex.

Only as his fingers descend downwards, he finds an unexpected path of smooth skin. Very smooth skin. His eyes widen and a startled gasp escapes him. It's not terribly loud, but between the gasp and his actions, he feels Laura go stiff in his grip and hears her loud intake of breath as she fully wakens, "Travis?"

"Laura, what-?"

"Um, remember when my old school friend Becky visited last week?"

It's an odd transition, but he allows it, "Yeah?"

"Well-?" He can hear her licking her lips nervously, "Like I told you, we went to a spa in Gravestone and got all these fancy treatments done and one of the ones they offered was waxing so I-? Um? Got waxed?"

It's stated as a question, but there's no question about it - Laura got waxed. Down there. 'There' being said body part he has in one hand. Her pussy...it's been waxed, it's hairless.

Gravestone, the next town over, has always offered more than North Kill. They used to be considered 'the big city' in some ways, boasting a mall, a movie theater, and all kinds of entertainment venues long before North Kill did. Travis didn't know they had a spa until Laura told him.

And now, touching what he is, he's glad they do as he slowly removes his hand, as he husks, "I have to see it. Let me see..."

He urges her to roll over on to her back as he quickly slides down the length of her, intent on removing her underwear. He does so easily and is greeted by an unbelievably erotic sight.

Laura naked is always a joy to behold - but right now...

Her eyelids are still heavy from sleep and her gorgeous, small breasts are on full display - their pink tips beckoning him as always, but for once he shuns them in favor of something far more enticing. His eyes scan down her midriff, her soft belly, the little dip of her navel and the width of her hips, eyes going lower and lower until he can feast on the sight of her bare cunt.

Travis remembers the hair from before - well trimmed, almost a landing strip, but this...

Laura presses her thighs closer together, as if embarrassed, but he lets out shushing sounds, the same way he would if he was trying to calm a wary animal. He reaches out and draws his fingertips lightly over the tops of her thighs, running them up and down reassuringly before going to her knees, gently tapping them in a silent request for her to lift them up, for her to bend her legs, and while he notices her idly chewing on one of her thumbnails, she does as asked.

Travis recognizes her anxious habit, but there's no reason for her to be, as he darkly intones, "You're so beautiful. So goddamn lovely..."

Laura draws in a loud breath, but doesn't respond, at least not with words. Instead she lets her legs fall open more and he groans, "Fuck, sweetheart...how did I get so lucky?"

It's a question he's asked himself more than once, but especially now as he gets a full view of her rosy pussy. He's heard all the flowery descriptors - calling it a peach, the lips petals, and so on and now he understands them. Mainly from the sweet gentle colors - mixtures of pink and violet and he reaches out to trace one exposed lip with his right forefinger, moaning at the feeling, "So soft..."

Laura whispers his name, her tone tremulous, but he's too lost in his own world as he traces the other lip. Then, as carefully as he can, he uses his thumbs to part them, to look deeper. She squirms beneath him, clearly a little disconcerted by his open perusal of such a sensitive and secret part of her.

Granted, Travis has buried his face between her legs more times than he can count, but he understands her hesitation. After all, he's never just stared at her before. But how can he not? With her hair gone, it's almost like he's witnessing something new. An unknown facet of her body, one he thought he had mapped out so well.

A nervous, giddy sound escapes Laura as she mumbles something under her breath and he releases his hold as he asks her to repeat it. She blushes even as she says, "Becky said you'd like it. This was my first time, but she's done it before. Said guys love it and she said you wouldn't be able to get enough of, um, my 'shiny, new pussy'."

The last is said with no small amount of embarrassment on Laura's part, but it just makes him grin wickedly, "Did she now?"

Laura simply hums and Travis tilts his head in assent, "Smart girl."

"So...you like it?" Laura asks, an uncharacteristically self-conscious vibe around her, "It-? It was supposed to be a surprise-"

"It was." He promises, but she rolls her eyes, clearly not done, "-but not yet. I had it all planned out. Besides, I know this isn't what you're used to."

His eyebrows rise, his confusion obvious, only for her to sigh, "I've seen your Playboys, remember? The women of your fantasies had bush and I imagine the other women you were with had-!"

"I don't care about that." He answers succinctly, even as he starts using his thumbs to tenderly stroke the outer folds of her downy cunt, "I don't care about them. Only you. I love you."

Laura's nostrils flare, her pupils dilating at his actions as he whispers, "And you can have as much or as little hair down here as you like...so long as you'll still let me in."

His hands move to grasp her beneath her knees, lifting her slim legs so that they fall over his shoulders as he lowers himself, his eyes level with her pussy as he rasps, "Please, Laura. Can I come in?"

Travis moves his mouth closer to her bare, quivering mound, his breath caressing her intimately, "Can I taste you?"

Laura whimpers 'Yes' even as Travis's tongue slickly parts her folds. He delves the silken point of it deep into her and god. He's done this before, but somehow this feels as if it's his first time. With so much of her exposed it feels easier to go lower, to sink deeper, to draw her pussy farther into his mouth, to pull it against his tongue, his lips. He's both openly kissing and devouring her, and she's crying out, back arching at the contact.

Each flick of his tongue seems wired to some electrical nerve ending in her body that makes her gasp, makes her jerk, but never once does he let up. Fuck, she tastes so good. Better than ever - succulent and sweet and he could happily drown in her juices. The scent of her arousal is strong and floral, the aroma of it filling his lungs, his dick - cock hard and trapped beneath him and his own hips thrust against the mattress in an effort to alleviate some of the ache building there and in his balls.

Travis stops kissing and licking at her only so he can press one finger up into her - or, better to say - so he can watch himself press one finger up into her and it glides in and out so easily, her channel wet and warm as he growls, "Jesus...I can see you so much better now. Can watch you taking me so well."

Laura can only answer with a whine before she turns over to tortured cries, his actions becoming rabid as he starts fucking her in earnest with that finger, as she starts riding it, her hips pressing downwards. But it's even better seeing it.

Without the hair, at his current vantage point, Travis can actually watch as her body swallows that finger whole. He adds another, carefully stretching her and her inner walls are drawing him in so lovingly. Travis lets out another desperate moan, the visual so heartbreakingly stunning as to make him feel as if he can cum from this alone. As if just watching her ride on two of his fingers with her shiny new pussy will take him there.

As a younger man, it no doubt would have. Thankfully age does have some benefits as he's able to easily hold out, able to add his tongue back into the equation enough to tickle it across the tender nub of her clit, making her shriek as an orgasm rolls through her. Her nails tear at his shoulder blades, his back, his hair, and Travis treasures every sharp scratch as she undulates beneath him, her climax a long, toe-curling one.

Satisfaction coils in his belly as he hears her wild wails slowly fall in volume, as she shudders beautifully beneath him and he withdraws his soaking hands, his sopping wet mouth. No doubt his chin and the tip of his nose are glistening just as much as his lips from his delectable mouthful and he cautiously rises up, his back not what it used to be.

In one of his few sexual fails, he'd actually pulled a muscle in his back one time when she'd been on top of him. It had been both humbling and humiliating. Laura, for her part, was equal parts amused and worried and while she'd assured him it was no big deal, he’s still sensitive about the issue.

Thus, he's begun to take more care when it comes to their lovemaking, especially in regard to his own movements. He moves leisurely to his knees on the mattress as he draws off his shirt, as he removes his underwear and pj's. Once he's as naked as she is, he looks down at her in admiration. She's glowing from head to toe - the expanse of her skin delightfully bright as he openly stares at her once more.

Her heavy breathing has dwindled since her release, but it still holds a breathless, smoky quality, "You really do like it, huh?"

He nods and physically draws her towards him, urging her legs to wrap up around his hips. She does so without pause, her heels pressing against his bare ass even though he has had yet to enter her. And he's going to, but Jesus fucking Christ, the sight of his dick near her bald pussy…

It's practically unbearable.

He takes himself in hand and rubs the plush head of his dick along her slit, then each lip, the feeling exquisite. Laura whines his name - twisty and impatient - and she's biting her bottom lip with her cute little white teeth and he lets out a hefty sigh, "Pretty sure this is how I'm going to die someday."

"That a bad thing?" She asks it with such naughty delight it's hard not to laugh, so he does, a rumbling sound that's always such a surprise to him. Only she can make him laugh now. After everything he'd been through, he thought he'd never laugh again. So the action always surprises him, always comes across as rusty.

But Laura is making it less so each time she manages to bring it forth and he kisses her quickly, before intoning, "Think you might have to keep it like this. Naked-"

Travis snaps his hips forward, his cock surging into her without mercy making her shout even as he growls, “-filled with my dick. Would you like that, baby?”

Her head tosses, blonde hair a cloud, her mouth hanging open as she pants, and Travis has never seen a more beautiful sight in all his life. Yet it miraculously grows in beauty as he begins drilling her with force and he watches her petite breasts jiggle with movement.

He feels unhinged as he finds the right rhythm, the perfect tempo, his speed neigh brutal and Laura’s features are twisted between pleasure and pain as she answers him, as she arches her back and draws him in deeper.

They’ve had sex multiple times, yet somehow she remains so hot, so tight, so perfect. Her inner walls pulse around him, drag on him as if trying to keep him inside, and that only spurs him on, only makes him fuck her with more ferocity. Especially when he looks down and sees the hot, sweet spot where they’re connected.

The sight of her bare cunt swallowing him, taking every single thick inch of him again and again is more than he can handle. His grip on her hips is punishing and he can hear a wet, slick sound that isn’t just that of their bodies meeting, but of his balls slapping against her ass and the sheer filthy knowledge of it knocks him over the edge.

Travis’s slamming, heavy thrusts stop as he goes rigid, as he lets out a gut-wrenching groan and starts spilling into her. A spill that seems endless as her body responds with an answering stiffness, her second climax making Laura shudder, his name a teeth clenching, high-pitched hiss. They both unravel against one another, in one another.

Eventually some of Travis’s sanity returns, but only some, because as he pulls his cock from the trembling sheath of her body, he goes back to lowering himself between her legs once more. His mouth returns to her mound, returns to her well used pussy and he can taste his release and hers and he’s ravenous as he kisses and licks at her.

Laura's a shivering, overstimulated mess beneath him and her fingers curl like claws into Travis’s shoulders as she begs for mercy. A cruel, slightly sadistic streak runs through him as he continues, even despite her pleas. Travis can bring her off again. He knows he can.

But while it’s tempting to truly tear her apart, at the end of the day, he can never deny Laura anything she wants, so he carefully pulls away, carefully rises up and kisses her trembling mouth. Laura truly is the most gorgeous girl on the planet to him - she looks so well used, so well loved.

Which is fitting, considering Travis has never loved nor will he ever love, anyone as much as he loves, Laura. His future wife...

Feeling dopey with the knowledge and the gentle hum of his afterglow, Travis kisses each of her cheeks, her lips, his voice crushed glass on asphalt, “Too much?”

Her blue eyes flash and he can’t help but give a truly malicious grin as he knows the answer all too well. Travis kisses the tip of Laura's nose as an apology, “T’be fair – you started it.”

Blonde eyebrows rise incredulously, and he brushes some fingers lightly over her plush sex, “Keeping this a secret from me.”

“Told you…” Her voice is a whisper, her vocal chords clearly recovering from her screams of ecstasy, “Was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Hmm, 's a good one.”

Suddenly she looks a little cagey and Travis zeroes in on it as any good cop would, “What?”

“Um – well? There is a bit more to it.”

“Yeah?” It’s asked harmlessly, but Laura is suddenly scarlet red, and Travis has no idea why until she manages a weak, “They also waxed my, um-?”

Her hips make a weak rise and Travis is lost, confused. What? They waxed her legs too? That doesn’t seem very-?

Then Travis’s eyes go wide. Large. Dinner plate sized. She lifted her hips specifically. He knows her pussy has been waxed. She can’t possibly mean…

“It’s-? My-? Ah-?” Laura ducks her head and she’s so quiet as to be nearly silent. But he hears it.

‘Other hole’.

…her other…

Travis didn’t think it was possible, yet, apparently it is.

He’s hard again.

Fully.

Laura. Bare. At both ends.

This truly is how he’s going to die. But what a way to go…

#hackearney #travis x laura #my writing #filthy flithy!!!#sorry but also not sorry

32 notes · View notes

sweeter-innocence-fics · 1 year

Text

My Sweetest Downfall - Chapter Six

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Work Summary:

Eddie’s back from the Upside Down, but things aren’t exactly how he left them. Hawkins is in pieces, his friends are scattered and the love of his life is… pregnant?

Eddie Munson x Harrington!Reader

Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 Epilogue

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3326

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye @eddiesgirlforever @harrys-tittie @munsonmoonshine86

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

Notes:

warnings for medical stuff, pregnancy stuff, allusions to King Steve, bullying, drug mentions, choking, mind control, violence

---

~ TWO MONTHS EARLIER ~

You were in a car again, driving to a clinic, although under much better circumstances than last time, because Steve was behind the wheel. You were going to find out your baby’s gender today.

After the stunt your parents tried to pull, Steve had taken you over to Hopper and Joyce’s place. You had stayed with Joyce and the kids, while Hop, Steve and Jonathan, as well as Hopper’s Russian friend Dmitri, went back to your house to talk to your parents.

None of them would tell you what happened, just that your parents were leaving town again. You couldn’t help but be grateful.

The two of you had stayed the night (Steve taking the couch, you commandeering Will’s room while Will shared with Eleven) and when you went home the next day, your parents were long gone.

With your parents gone, and unlikely to be coming back any time soon, you and Steve made a decision. You would stay at your parents’ house for a few more months, just to give you time to save up some extra money, since your parents were undoubtedly about to cut you off.

You had picked up some part-time secretarial work at the police station, while Steve took on more Family Video shifts.

Once he’d told Robin about your plan to move out, she had decided to throw her lot in with you as well. That was good. Splitting rent three ways was cheaper than two, and she’d be able to help out once the baby came.

It was strange. Your baby was becoming more and more real by the minute. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would look like, but every time you pictured it, you could only see Eddie’s face. You wondered how you would bear it.

What if you couldn’t care for your baby because looking at it only reminded you of your grief? Or worse, what if your baby looked nothing like Eddie, and over time every memory of his face faded?

“Are you okay?” asked Steve, making you jump. The car was parked in the parking lot of the clinic – your clinic, not the one your parents had taken you to – and Steve was watching you with concern.

You swallowed. “I don’t know.”

“Well, we don’t wanna be late, but we can talk about it after, if you want? I’ll buy you lunch?” he offered, as if he wasn’t paying for all your food anyway. He insisted that all the money you were earning should be for you to spend on yourself and the baby.

“That sounds nice.”

The nurse bustled into the examination room, where you were already settled, lying back on the bed with your tummy exposed. She was an older woman, with a kind face.

“Hello dear, my name is Laura. I need to ask you a few questions before we get started.” She glanced at Steve, who was sitting in the chair beside you. “Is this the father?”

“No,” you both said, very quickly.

“I’m her brother,” said Steve, at the same time that you said, “The father is…” You trailed off, feeling your eyes begin to sting.

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “The father is dead. He died shortly after the baby was conceived.”

The nurse gave you a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry. The earthquakes?” You swallowed, and nodded. “Well, I don’t want to make this any more traumatic for you than it needs to be, so I’ll try to be quick about it.”

She took a brief medical history from you, filling out information on a clipboard. You answered robotically, wanting to get to the important part.

“Alright, this is going to feel quite cold. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Despite her warning, you winced as the cool gel was spread over your bump. As she pressed the ultrasound wand to your tummy, you looked at Steve, but he was staring at the screen.

There was your baby. It looked like a peanut. The nurse pointed out the baby’s head to you, but you couldn’t respond. Your mouth was too dry.

“And do you want to know the baby’s sex?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She examined the image on the screen, shifting the wand slightly. “It looks like you’re having a little baby girl.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You looked at Steve, and saw that he was crying.

“A girl,” you breathed, picturing a child with long dark curls and big brown eyes. Steve squeezed your hand, letting out a shaky laugh. Tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you weren’t even trying to wipe them away anymore.

The first time that you ever interacted with Eddie Munson, you were in your sophomore year.

You were the polar opposite of your brother. He was cool, and popular, and had a different girl hanging off his arm every week. You were dorky and shy, and the mean girls in your class could smell blood in the water from a mile away.

You had just closed your locker and turned to walk to your next class when a foot caught around your ankle, sending you headlong, your books flying out of your hands. From behind you, you could hear your bullies tittering as they walked away.

Your knees stung where they had scraped along the floor. As you started to gather up your books, you couldn’t seem to get your hands to move fast enough. The idea of going to your next class, of having to sit in front of those girls, filled you with dread.

It wasn’t as if you had many friends at high school. You were quiet and nerdy and kept to yourself. Steve, who had always been there to protect you throughout your childhood, was distant now. He was almost an adult, and he didn’t have time to hang out with his kid sister.

You’d probably cramp his style anyway. As you began stuffing your textbooks into your bag, a pair of scruffy sneakers entered your line of sight.

“You okay?” came a voice from above you. You looked up into the eyes of Eddie Munson, local drug dealer and drop-out waiting to happen. Or least, that’s what people said.

“I, uh… Yeah.” Your voice cracked embarrassingly, and you realised you were about ten seconds away from bursting into tears.

Eddie held out his hand to you, and you let him help you to your feet.

“It’s Harrington, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. And you’re Eddie Munson.”

He flashed you a grin. “I see my reputation precedes me. But what is a goody two shoes like you still doing here? Aren’t you gonna be late for class?” He drummed his fingers against a locker. He seemed unable to keep still.

You blew out some air from between your lips. You were already late, and the thought filled you with an anxiety that hit you like pain in the chest. The image of your bully sneering at you as you stumbled in, five minutes late, was unbearable. “Fuck going to class. The bitch who tripped me is in that class.”

Eddie’s eyes widened mischievously. “In that case, I know a spot that none of the teachers know about. You wanna hang out?”

You looked at him. He was smiling at you, but there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes. You realised that he was putting himself out on a limb here.

“Fuck it. Lead the way.”

His eyes glinted as he beckoned you to follow him.

That evening, you’d had to take the bus home, because Steve was hanging out with his asshole friends after school. You didn’t mind it. It was nice to have the house to yourself. Hanging out with your brother wasn’t as fun as it used to be.

It was after 11pm by the time he got home. You were eating pizza while watching a movie. He stopped in the doorway and regarded you.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, and he sighed.

“Tommy said he saw you walking into the woods with Eddie Munson earlier.”

Your heart sank. “And?”

Steve bit his lip. “I’m not telling you what to do, but be careful, alright? That guy is bad news. And he’s way too old to be hanging out with you anyway.” You scoffed, but Steve continued. “I’m serious, okay? The guy’s a freak.”

“He’s really nice, actually,” you snapped back at him. “I’m done with this conversation.”

You had never been happier to prove Steve wrong. Eddie was never anything short of a gentleman to you. He was almost too much of a gentleman.

It took a few months for you to realise that you were developing a bit of a crush on Eddie Munson. By that point, you hung out all the time, getting high and avoiding doing homework.

You got the sense that he was holding you at arm’s length. He would never sit too close to you, would never touch you if he could avoid it.

At the time, you had assumed he just didn’t like you that way, but in retrospect, it was probably because he was two years older than you.

You had no idea that he might’ve felt in any way the same as you did until that one night at Reefer Rick’s. You had a feeling that Steve had known before you had.

“I just don’t like you hanging around with him,” he’d said one evening after Eddie had dropped you off in his van.

“Oh, so now you care?” you’d snapped back at him, and he’d flushed.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

You’d rolled your eyes. “We’re just friends.”

“Look.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what guys are like. I’m just trying to look out for you, okay?”

“If you got your way, I wouldn’t have any friends at all.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he’d said, but you were done having the conversation. You’d stormed off up to your room and slammed the door behind you.

But Steve now was nothing like Steve then. He was still protective of you, but he was kinder. Maturity, grief, and the years of being an unwilling babysitter had softened his sharp edges.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked you. Again, you found yourself sitting in the passenger seat of Steve’s car, except this time you were in the parking lot of the motel that Wayne Munson was staying in. It was two days since you’d found out you were having a baby girl, and in those two days, you had realised that Wayne deserved an opportunity to be a part of that little girl’s life.

You liked Wayne plenty, although you barely knew him. He was always civil and courteous to you, but you knew from Eddie that he was a whole lot more than that. Eddie idolised him. You knew that Eddie would want Wayne in his daughter’s life.

You looked down at the photocopy of the sonogram that showed your baby girl.

“I already told him that I’m pregnant on the phone. That was the hard part,” you said.

Steve squeezed your shoulder. “I’m here with you.”

Wayne met you in front of his motel room. There was a moment’s hesitation from both of you, but you decided to hug him. He smelled clean, like soap and a trace of engine oil.

It was a warm evening, so the three of you sat at a little picnic table on a patch of grass beside the parking lot. Before any of you could speak, you slid the photocopy of the sonogram across the table to Wayne.

“I want you to have this,” you said as he picked it up. “The first picture of my baby girl.”

“A girl, huh?” Wayne wiped his eyes on a handkerchief, and you tactfully didn’t acknowledge the fact that he was crying. “Have you thought of any names for her yet? I know it’s early days.”

You hesitated. You hadn’t even told Steve what you wanted to name the baby.

“Melody,” you said. “Because Eddie was a musician.” Was. It still stung to say.

“Little Melody,” Wayne mused. A smile flickered across his face. “I like it.”

~ PRESENT DAY ~

Eddie released you and you sucked in a breath, your hands flying to your throat.

“Let go! Let go of her!” shouted Lucas, pulling on his arm. Eddie may have been bigger, but Lucas was athletic. Now that Eddie was no longer resisting, Lucas was able to drag him off you.

Your hands were covering your neck, mercifully hiding the bruises he knew were forming. His stomach was churning hard.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

You looked back at him, your eyes wet with tears, and Eddie’s heart shattered into a million pieces. He’d hurt you. He’d never meant to hurt you, but he had.

Dimly, he realised Dustin was yelling into the microphone attached to the switchboard, trying to get someone to help.

“I’m coming,” came Steve’s voice. “I never should’ve left her alone.”

“Steve, no-” Your voice came out weak, and you coughed. Instinctively, Eddie reached for you to comfort you, but pulled back suddenly, realising you may not want his comfort right now. Pushing yourself up using the coffee table, you went over to the switchboard and commandeered the mic. “Steve?”

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “Did he hurt you?”

“Don’t come here,” you said. “Stick to the plan.”

“But-”

“Look, whatever just happened, happened because Vecna wanted it to. He’s trying to draw you away. Don’t give him what he wants.”

“Screw Vecna, I just need to know that you’re okay.”

You turned and looked at Eddie. There was a burning sensation in his chest, like shame he had never felt before. The evidence of violence – unwilling as it had been – was written into the bruises on your neck. If there was anything he could do to fix this, he would.

“Vecna isn’t controlling him right now.”

“But what’s to stop him from doing it again?”

“Tie me up,” Eddie cut in. You looked at him, wide-eyed. “I can’t hurt you if I’m tied up.”

“What if you need to fight?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“It’s too risky. I can’t hurt you. I won’t. Please. Just tie me up.”

You swallowed. “Okay.” You turned back to the microphone. “We’re gonna tie Eddie up.”

“I heard.” The disapproval in Steve’s voice was evident.

“Please, just…” You took a deep breath. “Please just stick to the plan, okay? We’ve got to do this on our terms, not Vecna’s.”

There was a long pause, and then Steve sighed. “Fine.”

Fortunately, Hopper had anticipated the need to keep someone incapacitated. There were a couple of sets of handcuffs, as well as a closet with a sturdy, lockable door.

Eddie held out his hands to you so that you could cuff him. You decided to cuff his hands in front of him rather than behind, for his comfort. In spite of everything, you didn’t want to hurt him.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured to you as he walked into the closet, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You cleared your throat, which still stung. “Not your fault.”

“Still.” He swung around to look at you, a pleading look in his eyes. “I’m sorry. Not just for this.” He gestured at your neck. “For all of it. Dying. Leaving you. Hurting you. I never wanted any of that for you.”

“You didn’t die,” you said, wiping away a few stray tears. You’d taken a couple of cushions from the sofa, so you busied yourself arranging them, and then set a bottle of water on the floor for him.

“I think I did. I don’t know what I am now.” You could only stare at him. There was a long pause, and then he said, “you should probably close the door. Before… you know…”

“Right.”

You were just about to close the door when he said, “Wait.” You hesitated, and immediately regretted it when he lunged at you, a sickening grin on his face.

You slammed the closet door just in time to hear him collide with it and then curse loudly. Eddie was gone. Vecna had him again.

From the living room, you heard shouting. Your fingers were trembling as you locked the closet using the three deadbolts Hopper had installed.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie whined, sounding so unlike himself. “I just wanna have fun. Can’t we have fun?”

“Get out of his head,” you hissed.

“I love you, you know that?” You stopped in your tracks. “You’re my dream girl. I’ve been in love with you for years.” Your heart was hammering in your chest. These weren’t Eddie’s words, as much as you wanted them to be.

Footsteps were rushing towards you. Dustin was calling your name. You turned to see him looking frantic. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Will. And Max. They- They’re-”

Blood ice cold in your veins, you sprinted past him, back into the living room. To your horror, the front door was wide open. You ran to close it, but Dustin blocked you.

“Will ran out there. Mike followed him.”

“Shit.” You rushed to the door and looked outside, but it was pitch dark. “Why did he do that?” Shadows danced in between the trees, too fast for you to make out.

“He was in some kind of trance, and-”

Lucas shouted your name. You had to resist the urge to put your hands over your ears.

“I need your help,” he shouted. The terror in his voice made you turn around. He was holding Max, but her body was limp, her eyes rolled back into her head. You saw that he had put her headphones on.

“Let’s get her into the bedroom,” you said. The bedroom had been prepared as a last resort. It was where the weapons were, and was even more heavily fortified than the rest of the cabin. “Close the door, but keep watch for Mike and Will. Don’t do anything without me,” you said to Dustin and Erica.

Between you, you and Lucas managed to lift Max into her wheelchair, wheel her into the bedroom and manoeuvre her onto the bed. You checked that her music was still playing, and thankfully, it was. You hoped against hope that it would still work.

From next door, you heard a huge, horrifying crash. Everything was happening so fast, and despite being surrounded by people, you had never felt so alone.

“Stay with her,” you said to Lucas, although you knew that there wasn’t a force on this earth that could tear him away from her now.

The living room was carnage, even worse than how you’d just left it. You almost tripped over a sofa cushion on the ground. Dustin was lying in the shattered remains of the switchboard, and Erica was trying to hold the front door shut by herself.

There was a strange hissing, and then you realised what Erica was trying to hold off. Trapped with its head in the doorframe, its body outside, was a demodog. It was trying to wrap its head around her legs, and she was kicking at it ineffectually.

Something slammed into the door hard, almost knocking Erica off balance. That snapped you into action.

You ran to her side and grabbed the baseball bat that was by the front door. You brought down the bat with all your strength on the creature’s head, and then continued beating it until its head slipped back through the gap.

Adding your strength to Erica’s, you shoved the door back into place. You held it shut while she fumbled with all the locks, and at last, it stopped shaking.

“What happened?” you asked, out of breath.

“Eddie,” she said, her big eyes shiny with tears. “He escaped.”

Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x harrington!reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x sister!reader

89 notes · View notes

cunninghamchrissie · 11 months

Note

Talk to me about Hellcheer sneaking out (at least sneaking Chrissy out of her house) to do something wholesome like getting ice cream or watching fireworks.

yes it's been over a month since this ask i wasn't ignoring it time is just meaningless atp

when eddie first suggested it, chrissy had immediately scoffed.

she couldn't just sneak out of her house, not with laura cunningham's ears trained to catch any nightly noise lest chrissy should try and grab a midnight snack from the kitchen (that was a mistake she'd made only once, when her stomach hurt so bad she was bent over in pain. and though laura had missed chrissy's light steps on the staircase, she heard the crunch of the dry, wholegrain toast chrissy was scarfing down as if it was the best meal she'd ever had. the finger-shaped bruises on her arm from being dragged back upstairs didn't fade for weeks).

but the seed has been planted despite herself. it's wednesday night, and her body can't lie still in bed.

kicking the covers off herself, chrissy quietly gets dressed, then sits back down on her bed to call eddie. she has to take a few deep breaths after picking up the receiver, the adrenaline at the possibility of doing something so forbidden already coursing through her. should she even be calling him? she knows wayne works the night shift at the plant, but what if eddie's sleeping and she'll disturb him?

but then she glances at her bedside table alarm clock, the bright red 9:17 p.m. on the display mocking her. eddie would never go to bed that early.

chrissy finally dials eddie's number, and he picks up on the third ring.

"munson manor, this is the butler speaking."

"eddie?"

"hey, princess! to what do i owe the honor?"

"uhm, well. i-i just wanted to let you know that i'm sneaking out tonight."

eddie snorts, leaning his shoulder on the wall by the phone.

"y'know," he starts, biting down on a smirk, "people don't usually announce when they're gonna sneak out. kinda defeats the whole purpose."

"oh."

he can almost hear the cogs in chrissy's brain turning through the silence on her end, and he can't help himself from picturing the cute confused face she must be making.

"okay. so, i guess i'll see you tom-"

"i'm kidding! i'll be there in 15."

---

eddie does his best to drive slowly when he gets to chrissy's neighborhood so the van doesn't wake up half of the uptight, must-be-in-bed-by-nine people that live there, and it's just about the hardest thing he's ever done.

this thing they have is pretty new, and his brain hasn't quite caught up with the fact that he gets to call chrissy his girlfriend and pick her up when she suddenly decides to sneak out of the house in the middle of the week. so, excuse him if he gets a little hyper about it and wants to drive around at 90 miles per hour screaming at the top of his lungs.

instead, he parks the van a couple houses down, kills the engine and the light, and waits for a little blonde jellybean of a person to poke her head out of her front door, look around as if she's in a spy movie, and scurry to him.

---

"so why did you want me to sneak out?"

becauseiwannahangoutwithyouallthetime is the answer that really wants to come out of eddie's mouth, but he actually does have a legitimate reason this time.

"oh, uhm, rick decided to buy an ice cream truck."

"who's going to buy ice cream from reefer rick?"

"hah, no, he's not actually gonna sell ice cream. he's just gonna use it as a front. but, uhm, he didn't actually realize that the previous owner left it fully stocked, so…"

chrissy's eyes sparkle at that. she can't remember the last time she had ice cream, only being allowed half a snow cone with one drizzle of syrup during summer since she was 10.

eddie drives them out to rick's (who's laying low out of town for a couple weeks) and even in the darkness chrissy can see the bright blue and pink stripes covering the entire truck. the image of a mean-looking drug dealer driving it makes her giggle; at least eddie's van is a little more subtle than that.

letting himself into the truck, eddie opens the hatch and tries to put on a ratty, once-white ice cream man hat over his curls, but gives up when it won't stay on.

"so, what will it be, sweetness?"

chrissy's stomach does a little swoop both at the term of endearment she's still not used to hearing, and at the sheer amount of options on the hanging menu. how is she supposed to know what to pick? and what if she picks something she doesn't like and is forced to finish it (because it's just rude to throw it away like that, not to mention a waste of food)? and what if she picks something that eddie doesn't like, and then he won't want to kiss her afterwa--

"chrissy."

eddie breaks her out of the anxiety spiral, seeing through to the heart of her like always.

"i'll pick one so we can share, yeah?"

eddie chooses a king cone, and ends up eating most of the ice cream at chrissy's request, but she nibbles on the crunchy cone, and giggles when eddie makes a show of inhaling the rest of it when chrissy hands it to him, declaring she's full.

he drives her home just before 1 a.m. and chrissy doesn't even bother brushing her teeth before bed, not wanting to wash away the feeling of his sticky vanilla kisses of her lips.

#hellcheer #eddissy #edissy #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #mine*fic #ask #i still have all the other asks i swear i'll get to them im sorry i suck at this #i wish i could keep the povs straight but alas it's a mess

89 notes · View notes

halevetica · 2 years

Text

Feels Like Home

Derek sat outside of the small coffee shop watching young couples, overworked mothers, and tired college students come and go. He held his own steaming cup in his hands. His jacket pulled tightly around him, his scarf wrapped around his neck. It was a bit too cold to be sitting outside. Not many others were and not for long, but Derek needed this. He needed something to kill the whirring in his chest. It felt like a hurricane under his skin. At first he thought it was him being homesick but when he visited Beacon Hills, nothing was the same. Stiles had joined the FBI. Isaac had moved to France. Lydia went off to some fancy school. Scott became a vet in Los Angeles. His house had been torn down and was now being turned into a park.

The feeling only continued to get worse. He felt restless. He had been traveling since he split from Braden almost four years ago. He never stayed anywhere long because it felt wrong. Nowhere felt like home anymore. He was a drifter with nothing to root him into place. He'd even visited Cora for a few months before having to move on.

Now he sat at a small coffee shop in New York City seeking comfort in the faint memories he'd made here years ago with Laura. They'd sit at this very table and people watch for hours. Laura would make up stories about the bickering couple that walked by, or the teenagers seeking their caffeine high for the day.

Derek watched a mother with their teenage daughter walk by. He imagined what Laura would say about them.

Perhaps she'd claim the mother was lecturing her daughter about choosing boys over her grades while the daughter ignored her in favor of texting her friends.

The thought brought a smile to his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The cold November air burned his lungs. The sun would be setting soon and it would be too cold to people watch. He tipped back the last of his coffee and stood to make his way...somewhere. Back to the hotel he was staying in? That thought made his chest tighten. Perhaps he'd find something to occupy himself on the way.

He tossed his empty cup into the nearby trash and headed down the busy sidewalk. He was never a fan of big cities. It had too many scents and noises. Laura said that was what made it the perfect place to live until they knew they were safe from hunters.

Derek tried not to breath too deep as he continued down the sidewalk. He let his feet carry him aimlessly through the crowded streets, navigating traffic and pedestrians with ease, until he found himself standing at the entrance of central park.

Laura loved to go running here. It was the closest thing to home at the time. Derek had rolled his eyes claiming the handful of trees didn't compare to the reserve. He stood by that even now. Though lately even the reserve didn't feel like home.

He closed his eyes and imagined Laura's laughter as she taunted him for lagging behind. She had always been faster and stronger than him.

"Derek?" A familiar voice yanked him from his memory.

He opened his eyes to see Stiles Stilinski walking towards him from the park's entrance. He looked older than the last time Derek had seen him. His hair was longer and his jaw more chiseled. He had stubble that shadowed his chin and cheeks. It was a good look.

"Dude, what are you doing here?" Stiles asked, coming in for a hug.

Derek reciprocated the hug awkwardly, still caught off guard by the sudden appearance of an old pack member.

"I uh, I'm in town for a bit," Derek answered lamely. He didn't know what he was doing here. Chasing old memories in search of comfort? That wasn't something he wanted to admit to.

"How long?" Stiles asked shifting a bag on his shoulder.

"I'm not sure. What are you doing here?" Derek had thought Stiles was in Virgina.

"I took a job here about six months ago, working with the local FBI."

"Oh. That's great." Derek forced a smile. Stiles seemed different. Happy maybe.

"Are you busy?" Stiles glanced around as if expecting to see someone else with Derek.

"No, I was just..." Derek gestured to the park.

Stiles raised a brow but didn't pry when Derek didn't elaborate.

Derek's chest warmed. He forgot how understanding Stiles was. He never had to explain himself to him.

"Well, I was thinking of grabbing something to eat. If you have the time...you should join me."

Derek smelled the caution in Stiles' scent. He smiled. "I'd like that."

Stiles beamed. He'd clearly been expecting a rejection.

As they walked, Stiles caught Derek up on his life. Derek listened intently being sure to ask questions to keep the conversation on Stiles.

It wasn't until they were seated at the table in the small Italian restaurant that Stiles gave Derek a pointed look.

"So are we going to continue to avoid talking about you or are you gonna tell me what you're doing in New York?"

Derek dropped his eyes to his lap where he had laid his napkin. He smoothed the creases of it before looking back up at Stiles.

"Is something wrong?" Stiles' tone dropped into worry as he leaned forward.

"No. I'm fine." Derek gave a small smile at Stiles' concern.

Stiles narrowed his eyes but didn't argue. Instead he waited for Derek to continue.

"I've been here about a month. Laura and I lived here for a while after the fire."

Stiles nodded. "Right. I remember."

"I umm, guess I'm just missing her." Derek dropped his gaze back to his napkin. He plucked at a loose thread as he continued. "I've been traveling a bit. Just came from visiting Cora actually."

"I figured you'd settle down somewhere, build a pack." Stiles frowned.

Derek's lips pulled into a line. "I haven't found anywhere that feels...right. Ya know?" his eyes came up to meet Stiles'.

Stiles shifted in his seat. "Yeah. It's hard to find where you belong when everyone you know is scattered to the wind."

Derek nodded. "I went back to Beacon Hills recently."

"Nothing is the same." Stiles shook his head.

"Yeah, it felt...strange," Derek agreed.

"Do you talk to anyone from Beacon Hills anymore?" Stiles asked.

"Not really, no. Cora is the only one. You?"

Stiles nodded sadly. "I talk to Scott on occasion. Lydia sends emails sometimes. I even got a postcard from Isaac once though that was three years ago now. Haven't heard from Cora or Malia in several years. I actually ran into Jackson and Ethan while on a case last year, but I didn't have time to catch up."

"I should have reached out." Derek smelled the disappointment on Stiles. It was familiar. It reminded him of the early days in Beacon Hills. Stiles usually smelled upset or disappointed or worried.

"I uh...thought about reaching out myself. I looked you up in the database but..." Stiles trailed off.

"Why didn't you?" Derek pressed. He wondered how he would have reacted to a random call from Stiles Stilinski. He imagined he'd have been pleased.

"I figured if you wanted to talk you'd reach out. I know how important your privacy is to you," Stiles shrugged, reaching for the water in front of him.

Derek's chest warmed once again.

"I would have liked to hear from you," Derek admitted.

"Why didn't you reach out?" Stiles dared ask, his eyes lifting to meet Derek's.

"I heard you got out. I had a lot of demons chasing me for a while. Once I finally shook them...I realized you were probably better off."

Stiles gave a derisive snort.

"It's good to see you though," Derek said with a sincerity in his tone that caused Stiles to look up with a frown. "It's nice to see someone...familiar."

"Yeah. It feels...comfortable." Stiles smiled.

Derek cleared his throat. "So you live nearby or..."

Stiles allowed the subject change. He knew Derek would say more when he wanted to. For now he'd allow him to avoid whatever he was trying to avoid.

After dinner, Stiles and Derek stepped back into the cold air. The sun had set well beneath the horizon, making the cold bite through their clothes, sending shivers down their spines.

"So are you staying nearby?" Stiles asked, pulling his coat tighter around him.

"Uh," Derek glanced to the Hilton Garden Inn. "Yeah. Not far."

Stiles blinked at Derek. "I'm sorry, are you staying in a hotel?"

Derek dropped his chin to his chest.

"Oh my god, Derek." Stiles threw his arms up. "You've been here a month."

Derek shrugged. He hadn't even planned to stay here that long but he didn't know where to go next and he hoped that if he stuck around long enough it would start to feel like home. It didn't.

"Come on, you're staying with me. I have a spare room you can use." Stiles turned to walk down the sidewalk but Derek didn't follow.

"What?" Stiles frowned when he noticed Derek wasn't behind him.

"I haven't seen you in years."

"So?"

"So we're not friends anymore."

Stiles' brows raised. "I'm offended."

"I just meant..." Derek trailed off with a sigh.

"If you're worried about me taking you back to my place, I bought you dinner first." Stiles gave a teasing grin.

Derek rolled his eyes but couldn't help the smile that pulled at his lips.

"Come on, you'll have your own bathroom. I won't hog the TV and you get the house to yourself while I'm at work," Stiles pressed.

Derek squinted at Stiles. "You're serious."

"Dude, yes. Now come on, it's freezing. We can swing through and get your stuff on the way." Stiles started down the sidewalk again. This time Derek followed suit.

Derek wasn't sure what he expected when he walked into Stiles' apartment, but it was not this. The small living room was decorated in warm browns and deep reds. The microfiber couch was a chocolate brown, draped in a dark red blanket. The walnut coffee table sat between the couch and the fake fireplace where the TV hung. On the walls were framed pictures of Stiles' FBI certifications and his dad in uniform. The room smelled strongly of Stiles and sandalwood.

"Make yourself comfortable." Stiles hung his keys on a hook by the door before laying his bag on a small table below them.

"It's nice." Derek's eyed trailed to the small kitchen where a bar with two stools separated the living room from the stove. On it sat a bowl with two overripe bananas and a single apple. The fridge held pictures of Scott and Stiles from years ago along with a wedding invitation for a couple Derek didn't know. The sink was void of dirty dishes minus a single solo cup.

"This is the bathroom," Stiles gestured to a door just inside the hall. "And this is your room." He pointed to a spacious room with a queen size bed in the middle. It was decorated in deep blues with baseball pictures on the wall.

Derek thought he recognized a couple of the posters from Stiles' room back in Beacon Hills.

"My room is there." Stiles pointed to the other end of the short hallway.

"You're sure you don't mind?" Derek asked.

"Stay as long as you like." Stiles held his arms out. "Mi casa es tu casa."

Derek couldn't help the frown that tugged on his brows. He didn't even know what home felt like anymore.

"So yeah, the bed is good to go cause I never have company. Uh...there are towels in the bathroom closet. I don't have any soap or shampoo but I can get mine if you-"

"I stole the hotel toiletries," Derek interrupted.

Stiles blinked at Derek. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I took the shampoo and soap from the hotel." Derek held up his duffel bag.

"I was already concerned by the severe lack of luggage but now you're telling me you've just been using hotel soap?"

"What's wrong with that?" Derek frowned.

"Nothing. I just...you've been in town for a month."

Derek shrugged.

Stiles cocked his head in a way that Derek remembered well. It was something he did when he was putting together clues to solve a case. "Okay, well I'll let you settle in." He took a step back as if to show he was giving Derek space.

"Thank you, Stiles," Derek said, a sincerity to his tone that Stiles didn't hear often.

"Course." Stiles smiled but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Derek watched him close himself in his room, leaving Derek standing in the hall.

Derek woke late the next morning. He'd slept better than he had in weeks. His muscles were less sore than usual. He padded into Stiles kitchen in his pajama pants to see the apartment empty. Laid on the counter was a note from Stiles.

'Had to be at work early. Should be back by five. Hope you slept well. Make yourself at home.'

Derek smiled down at the note before opening the fridge. His smile grew at the sight of a pack of Pepsi, a jar of pickles and an old box of cold pizza. He should have guessed Stiles' fridge wouldn't be stocked. He shook his head before heading back to his room. If Stiles was going to allow him to stay, the least he could do was buy groceries.

Two hours later Derek had hauled all the groceries up to Stiles' apartment, covering his kitchen counter in jars of pasta sauce and boxes of noodles. Bags of rice and chicken stock. Anything he thought Stiles might need or use.

He put all the food away in what seemed like the correct places before checking the time. Stiles wouldn't be home for a few more hours.

The whirring in Derek's chest made him close his eyes. He recalled what he would do when he was bored at home while Laura was at work. Cook.

"Well I did just go shopping," he muttered to himself.

He pulled out a couple pots and pans that he'd come across while searching through Stiles' cabinets. They looked almost brand new.

Stiles stepped out of the elevator and was hit with a smell so good his stomach rumbled. He realized he was starving. He'd skipped lunch in favor of trying to solve his latest problem. He would have to see if Derek wanted to grab dinner with him because he was certain he didn't have anything to make.

He opened the door, only to be hit in the face with the smell from the hallway. Derek was in his kitchen with a towel tossed over his shoulder and a spread of several different dishes laid out in front of him.

"Just in time. Hungry?" Derek asked, pulling the towel from his shoulder and wringing it between his hands.

Stiles stood stunned. "What—"

"You didn't really have anything so I went to the store and then I was feeling...well I thought maybe you wouldn't mind." Derek gestured to the dinner he'd made.

"Wow. This is...Derek...I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"I didn't know what you liked so I made a few different things. This is Cheese stuffed mushrooms. This is butternut squash gnocchi with sage brown sugar. This is pork tenderloins with caramelized pears in a pear brandy cream sauce. And these are sautéed baby root vegetables." Derek pointed to each dish.

"Dude." Stiles hung his keys and dropped his bag. "One, what did I do to deserve this? And two, when did you learn to cook like this?"

Derek pulled out two plates. "My mom taught me and Laura. I used to cook for Laura when she was at work. It helped keep my mind busy. And as far as deserving it..." he spooned the different dishes onto one of the plates before setting it in front of Stiles. "You gave me a place to stay."

Stiles' stomach rumbled once again.

"Sounds like you're hungry," Derek held back a smile.

"Dude, I could kiss you, this is amazing," Stiles said around a bite of mushroom.

Derek's head dipped bashfully. "Glad you like it." He reached for a bag on the counter and pulled two bottles out.

"You'd be proud, I bought shampoo." he held up one of the bottles that was indeed labeled 'Shampoo'.

Stiles laughed, a pleased look on his face.

Through dinner Derek listened to Stiles' day, happy to have company. He missed Stiles' ramblings and fun facts. It took him back to long days researching at the loft.

"So I would ask how your day was but..." Stiles gestured to the kitchen. "I think I know."

"I hope you don't mind." Derek set his fork on his now empty plate.

"Are you kidding? If I had known you could cook, I would have hunted your ass down way earlier." Stiles took his and Derek's plate to the sink.

Derek's chest warmed at Stiles' words. He liked that Stiles enjoyed his cooking. He hadn't cooked for anyone since Laura. It felt good.

After dinner, Stiles worked on his case so Derek busied himself with a Sudoku book he'd bought from the store earlier.

Stiles, who was flipping through the pages of his file, paused and looked over at Derek who was sitting cross legged on the end of the couch. He wore a plain white tank top and grey sweatpants. The sudoku book was folded in his left hand. It was the most domestic he'd ever seen Derek. His stomach fluttered. It was strange having Derek in his space but he enjoyed it. It felt right.

"You're staring," Derek said, not looking up from his book.

"I was just think how odd this is, having you here."

Derek looked up, his shoulders straightening.

"But also it's so...natural. Almost like...you belong? I dunno, sorry if that's weird." Stiles turned back to his file.

"It's not weird. I know what you mean. It's familiar but also...not." Derek relaxed his shoulders. The scent on Stiles was contentment. He had worried he'd been too quick to fall into the comfort of Stiles' house. But something about being in Stiles' space was...relaxing.

Stiles walked into his apartment to the smell of garlic and onions cooking. "Honey I'm home," he called playfully.

Derek turned around, the towel tossed over his shoulder like it so often was. "Hey, you're home early."

"It smells amazing." Stiles peered over Derek's shoulder where he was sautéing garlic and onions in a pan of oil.

"It won't be ready for another thirty minutes," Derek apologized.

"Dude, you don't have to have it ready when I get home." Stiles laughed shaking his head.

"I like to though." Derek shrugged, pushing the vegetables across the pan with his wooden spoon.

"Well I appreciate it." Stiles stepped back and grabbed a pepper from the cutting board. "Can't wait to see what you're gonna create tonight, Gordon Ramsey."

Derek chuckled, shaking his head.

"Gonna go shower."

Derek turned to watch Stiles retreat into the apartment. It had been almost two weeks since Derek had started staying with Stiles. He'd settled in quickly and found that he wasn't waiting for his next move.

He glanced around. His favorite mug had a place on Stiles' counter next to the coffee maker. His books had made a home on the new bookcase Stiles bought. A second hook had been hung next to Stiles' keys for his own. His clothes were folded next to Stiles' on the dryer. His herb plants lined the balcony.

Their lives had intertwined so easily. Derek found he enjoyed gardening and cooking while Stiles was at work. On weekends the two would get coffee and take walks through central park.

Derek placed a hand on his chest. The whirring force of the hurricane that had taken up residency under his skin had simmered. Being here with Stiles was the first time that feeling had gone away. He wondered at what point it had started to dissipate. Had it been when Stiles gave Derek a spare key? Had it been when Stiles started leaving notes regularly for him in the morning? Had it been when Stiles asked Derek's opinion on the new couch cushions he bought?

Derek considered what it was about Stiles' space that made him so comfortable as he finished dinner. By the time Stiles had finished showering and joined him in the kitchen he'd decided that it was just Stiles. He'd always been comfortable around him and felt safe. Stiles had even at one point been his anchor.

Suddenly Derek whipped around to face Stiles who was taking his seat at the counter.

"What's wrong?" Stiles frowned at Derek's panicked expression.

Derek didn't know how he hadn't realized it sooner. Stiles was his anchor. He'd been searching for something to ground him for years. And the entire time it was Stiles.

"Derek?" Stiles slid off the chair and reached for Derek's forearm.

Derek closed his eyes as Stiles' soothing touch washed over him. A warmth spread through him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Stiles squeezed Derek's arm gently.

Derek opened his eyes, collecting himself. "Nothing. I just forgot an ingredient for dinner. But it's fine." He turned away from Stiles.

He tried to push down the panic but now that he realized that Stiles was what had been missing from his life he didn't know how he could leave. He knew it was only a matter of time before Stiles wanted Derek to move out. But Derek didn't want to leave. Stiles felt like home, something he'd been searching for for a long time.

"You sure?" Stiles pressed, his eyes narrowed.

"Yeah. Come on, let's eat." Derek put on a soft smile and made Stiles' plate.

Stiles reclaimed his seat.

Derek was thankful Stiles didn't pry. He guessed though by the frown on his face that he didn't believe Derek.

Stiles told Derek about his day over dinner like he did every night. Derek did his best to pay attention but all he could think about was how much he'd miss this.

"Dinner was amazing as usual." Stiles took his and Derek's plates to the sink.

"I'm thinking of getting my own place," Derek blurted. He'd seen a neighbor down the hall moving out the day before. Perhaps if he could stay close to Stiles he would remain grounded.

The plates slipped from Stiles' grip and clattered loudly in the sink. He cleared his throat.

"Oh?" Stiles turned on the water.

"An apartment down the hall opened up." Derek swallowed.

Stiles took in a shaky breath. He knew this day would come, he'd just hoped it wouldn't be so soon. "Okay." He fought to keep his tone even.

Derek tried to decipher the different scents on Stiles. Disappointment. Anger. Understanding.

"I've taken up enough of your space and—"

Stiles cut the water off and turned to face Derek, causing him to cut his sentence short.

"You're not taking up my space Derek. This is your space too." Stiles' tone was sharper than he'd intended.

Derek didn't respond.

Stiles wiped his hands on a towel and sighed. "If that's really what you want then okay, but please don't feel like you're doing me any favors by moving out."

Derek's brows furrowed. Did Stiles really want him to stay?

"Look, I get it; you don't stay in one place long. But don't move into the apartment down the hall for a few months if you're just planning on leaving again. Stay here. When you're ready to move on, then...okay. But it's stupid to get another apartment temporarily," Stiles continued.

"I didn't mean to upset you." Derek couldn't ignore the irritation in Stiles' scent.

"You didn't."

Derek noted the lack of skips in Stiles' heartbeat. He wasn't lying.

"Then what did?"

Stiles looked at Derek and sighed. "I did."

Derek's frown deepened.

"I got comfortable having you here. I knew you wouldn't stay and yet I still..." Stiles trailed off. "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me." Derek took a step towards Stiles.

"Having you here has been..." Stiles licked at his licks. "Honestly, it's been incredible."

Derek's chest warmed at Stiles' words.

"It feels like you belong here and I don't know why. I love having you here. I love your coffee cup next to mine. I love your books on my shelf. I love your sudoku puzzles. I love your herb plants on my balcony. I love watching the game with you. I love getting coffee and watching the pigeons on our walks. I love—" Stiles cut himself off.

Derek took another step towards Stiles. "I love those things too. But what happens when you tire of my things in your space? Or when you..." he swallowed. "Meet someone."

Stiles scoffed. "Yeah."

"I'm serious, Stiles."

"What are you running from?" Stiles snapped, catching Derek off guard.

"What?"

"You've been all over the place. You never stay in one place long. You were staying in a hotel." Stiles threw his arms up.

"I'm not running from anything."

"Then what are you looking for?"

Derek's lips pulled into a tight line.

Stiles would normally back off, sensing Derek didn't want to talk about it, but this time he pushed.

"You've been searching for something. What is it?"

"Home." Derek said, barely above a whisper.

Stiles wasn't sure what he'd been expecting Derek to say but it wasn't that.

"Oh. Well...I don't want to stop you from finding that." He spoke just as quietly.

"Stiles." Derek took a step forward.

Stiles took a step back, bumping into the counter behind him.

"I'm gonna be honest with you because you deserve to know." Derek pulled in a slow breath. "I found my home. Here with you."

Stiles' mouth fell open.

"I realized it earlier and...it scared me."

Stiles didn't dare move or speak.

"You're my anchor. Have been for years. I just never realized that this torrent that I've been trying to quell wasn't a storm at all. It was a hole."

Stiles swallowed. This had to be a dream.

"This." Derek gestured around the apartment. "You. It feels like home."

"Then why are you trying to leave?" Stiles dared ask. His voice a whisper.

"Because I'm afraid if I don't leave now, I won't be able to later."

"Then don't ever leave."

Derek frowned.

"I didn't realize what was missing in my life until you showed up. When you're here I feel...better."

Derek's ears pricked for any hint of a lie.

"When you left all those years ago, you took a piece of me with you. Now that you're back...I don't want you to go."

"Really?" Derek searched Stiles face for any doubt, listened for any hesitation.

"Derek." Stiles stepped forward and the smell of worry, and anxiety singed Derek's nose. "I don't want your shampoo bottles to be in the spare bathroom. I want them to be in mine."

Derek's lips pulled into a fond smile before surging forward. His fingers clutched at the sides of Stiles' face as their lips connected gently.

Stiles' hands gripped at the t-shirt Derek wore, holding him close. Dizziness swept over him. This wasn't real. There was no way Derek Hale was kissing him.

Derek pulled back, keeping their foreheads together.

"Does this mean you'll stay?" Stiles asked between them, his hands still gripping at Derek's shirt.

"As long as you'll have me." Derek closed his eyes relishing in the comfort and warmth of Stiles' presence.

Derek's shampoo fit perfectly on the shelf next to Stiles', much like the rest of his things did in Stiles' apartment.

Consider buying me a coffee, I would really appreciate it!

#sterek #sterekweek2022 #sterekhome #one shot #ficlet #my writing-h

340 notes · View notes