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vadersassistant · 8 months

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Hiiii

wo dering if you could do an enemies to lover anakin imagine. kind of like friends to enemies to lovers or something like that and it ends in them making out o whatever you are comfortable with.

Anyways thank youuu

Denial One Shot (Darth Vader x Reader)

Summary: After venturing into a Sith Temple to try and find an edge on the current war, (Y/N) meets her enemy, Lord Vader, the man who killed her best friend and secret lover. He has been hunting both her and her alias down for months, following her across the galaxy, but little does she know, he has no plans to kill her. Takes place in the temple seen in the Star Wars Rebels season two finale. Reader was previously a Jedi and is in hiding due to order 66.

Warnings: Make out session

A/N: (Y/N) does not know Vader is Anakin, and Vader does not know (Y/N) is the Fugitive he has been searching for. This is once again a mix of suited Vader and nightfall Vader. In which, Vader wears the suit and mask, but he can take it off and looks like the Anakin we know and love.

The temple was eerie, an odd feeling passing by with each step you took. It was the opposite of the one I grew up in, representing everything I was told to dislike, and yet I was here anyways. I had made up my mind to fight instead of continuing to run from the problem. I wasn’t a rebel, but I wasn’t an imperial either. I was the middle ground, a former Jedi with a new identity, a mask to shield my face so that I could live freely, but the saber still gave it away. I was good, too good to be a civilian having fun with an old relic, even though some still used them publicly. Some, as in him.

The Jedi fell and Lord Vader rose out of thin air. There was no preface, no foreshadowing, he just came, and everyone bowed their heads.

To outsiders he was a military leader trained in combat, who happened to use an imaginary power. To force users, like Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, and I, he was a Sith. We all knew it the second he began hunting us down. He wanted the Jedi dead and made it clear when he began searching for my alias as well. Everyone knew who she was, I was put on every single imperial security watch available, but I evaded it all I could. I forged a new saber, so that they couldn’t track me that way, and told people about how the female jedi on the Holonets from the clone wars died. The only people who truly knew were Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, since they too had done something similar. He was Ben, she was Ashla, and I gained the name Fugitive, a mask being the only way to keep track of my identity.

I couldn’t count how many storm-troopers I had killed by now, just that I did. I was forced to, to keep myself alive, because he wanted me turned in. I was always told to run, to flee from Vader because of what he’s done, but all I wanted was for the man to wind up dead. A lust for revenge had developed ever since I learned what he did to my best friend, Anakin Skywalker.

I don’t even know how he could have killed a warrior like him, but he did and now he’s gone. Slaughtered like any other while trying to save people in the temple, something someone with his character would have done naturally. The worst part is that everyone he was trying to save is dead too, and that he could have escaped with us, had he not done what he did. He had a wife, Senator Amidala, a good friend of mine, who also died that night, although I wasn’t sure if they ended on good terms.

The two had been arguing for a while, he believed she was cheating on him with Obi Wan, although she continued to deny it along with everyone else. I was the only one who he talked to about his problems willingly, even Kenobi would have to go through reading his mind to talk about personal issues. It was only when Anakin died that the truth came out, that being that Anakin was right, and she was seeing Kenobi.

I hadn’t recognized him after that point. I knew he was afraid he would be kicked out of the Jedi order if we found out he was dating another woman. Even further, the fact he knowingly was allowing the affair to happen, but it occurred anyways, and he lost everything with it. That was consequence enough, he didn’t need me to yell at him any further for going that far.

Still, I was angry, because I cared about Anakin.

And also loved him.

I denied it for years, the helpless prodding’s from Ahsoka when the two of us would spend hours upon hours with each other. We carried out the entire war effort, working extremely close together on missions. It was no surprise that I liked him, he had even mentioned subtly what things would be like if he hadn’t met her. It sounded like he regretted it, but I had no clue, due to us being force users.

I now stood in front of the man who took him away, the one that gutted him in the chest like a fish with no care whatsoever. The man that had been hunting me down under both my names since the night of the fall, the one that was known for murdering everyone in his path. I don’t know how he found me, I had a feeling we were being followed, but I didn’t care. We needed the Holocron inside of the temple, and Ahsoka now had it in hand. I could sense their distraught, both behind me looking at the Sith in front of us. They didn’t want to fight him; they were afraid to fight him. I felt differently, looking at his mask through the visors of my own.

“It was foretold that you would be here, our long-awaited meeting has come at last."

“This meeting is over,” Ahsoka said.

“Are you so sure?” the Sith questioned through the modulated voice his mask provided him, as I stepped forward.

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asked me, his breath becoming short.

“Leave."

“No," he shook his head. "Don’t do this."

“Leave. Now.”

I looked up at the temple’s ceiling as the walls started to drop down. It was collapsing on itself, since the Holocron had been taken from the Obelisk. There wasn’t much to do, but I knew I didn’t want to pull them into this. I turned around and outstretched a hand.

Ahsoka screamed as I force pushed both her and Obi-Wan back while the temple’s walls crashed down. I saw her figure fly back just before the drop and felt her gently land. There was a ship, they could leave, I would worry about myself after I killed him.

“We’re finishing this here,” I said. "I know you've been hunting me for the past months."

“You are courageous, unlike your friends,” the Sith mused. “Hateful.”

“You killed my best friend," I pointed out. "I want you to experience that same pain."

“Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he reminded. "Your confidence dilutes your ability to make rational decisions."

“I am no Jedi.”

“Then who are you? Your saber is unlike any I have ever seen, an identity successfully hidden behind a helm.”

“That’s none of your business, why have you been hunting me?” I asked. I felt the pressure of the Dark Side creeping against my mind's barriers, he was trying to invade.

“You would make a wonderful apprentice in the dark side,” Vader said. "You have already abandoned your training as a Jedi."

“I don’t side with murderers.”

“And yet you are one. I have seen your way of fighting Fugitive; you have killed countless of our troops and inquisitors.”

“Your Inquisitorious is an embarrassment, and I will never join you, not after what you did,” I called my saber to my hand, igniting it.

“Then you will die.”

There was this feeling of fear that attempted to wash over me, like he was attempting to throw me off, but I wasn't thinking about it anymore.

I ran full speed at him, force pushing myself up off the ground and into the air to try and put myself on the offensive. My blade met his right over his helmet, as he angled me back and I landed behind him. My automatic response was to try and swing for his legs, a move he evaded but had been surprised by. I knew I needed to be careful with how I played things. He would try and tire me out by just playing the defensive, but I also didn’t get that tired frow much stamina I built up during the war. Vader was also bigger, and stronger, meaning I’d need to use his weight to my advantage. I was quick, less stable, and grounded, and more agile in my movements.

We continued to take shots at each other, as he seemingly began to test me. It was a constant switch from the right to the left, bashing at each other from different angles and walking along with it. It was something Anakin and I always did, and it almost felt familiar. For whatever reason, I could feel myself getting into the rhythm Skywalker and I got into when we would train every day. After a certain point I would always switch my grip and force him to back off, and I did it purely out of muscle memory, shoving the Sith back.

“Your anger focuses you,” he commented. “Join me and I can enhance that power.”

“You killed him, the man I loved, do you truly believe I would ever consider that?”

“He is gone for a reason,” Vader said.

“He was the chosen one!” I shouted, interlocking lightsabers in a pursuit for power over the other. "You know why he lost his life?! Because he was trying to save everyone else, instead of actually caring for himself for once."

“(Y/N)."

I stumbled back immediately, hearing that name leave his mouth,

"What?"

My eyes widened beneath the visors, letting my guard down for just a moment.

It was all he needed.

I felt his immense force break through my walls and invade my mind, clawing through my memories and thoughts like a file. Not only that, but he immediately took me to the ground. It was quick, as he now straddled me, muscular thighs resting over my lower waist. Both my arms were pinned to either side with by the force, my saber in his hand.

I grunted, struggling under him and thrusting against his cod piece hoping it would make him budge but it barely made a difference. I couldn’t do a thing, as the Sith reached for my mask and pressed down on the sides. I felt it depressurize, as his gloved digits lifted it off my head, and I looked into his mask with my own eyes.

"How do you know my name?" I asked angrily as I fought underneath him to free myself.

There was no way of telling what he truly felt in that moment, holding the helm silently, breathing being the only indication he was still alive. I continued to try and do everything to get out of his grasp, but the Sith only sat there and took me in, his body heat lingering over my own. I felt like a mess, wondering where Ahsoka and Obi-Wan might be right now, realizing why Anakin lost his life to this man. I didn’t know how he knew my name, my real name, the one that no one had called me in months. I was fully pinned down, not giving up until I saw him reach for his own helmet.

"What are you do—"

My throat ran dry, amber eyes piercing through my body like a blade.

"Anakin."

It was him, with brown hair that held golden streaks just above his armor.

"(Y/N)."

Hearing his voice sent a shiver down my entire back, as I shuddered underneath him.

“I thought you died—they said Vader killed you—" there were tears welling up in my eyes, looking up at him.

“I am alive."

“Why did you turn?"

“The Jedi council was using us, Obi-Wan lied to me about Padme (Y/N), they were having an affair. But you know that already.”

“Obi Wan told us,” I trailed off.

“I know.”

“Do you plan to kill me?”

“No, that was never my intent," he emphasized lowly.

“So, what will you do?” I questioned.

“After separating myself from the order, I reflected much upon it,” Anakin started. "And came to terms with several of my mistakes."

“What mistakes?”

Still straddling me Anakin leaned down, placing his hands by either sides of my head and lowering himself to my ear.

“I was blindly dating filthy senator, when I had the love of my life right next to me the entire time."

"What do you mean?" I emphasized each word, my abdomen tensing as he got so close to me.

"There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't think of my future and imagine you by my side. I told myself it was our strong bond causing me to think of you constantly, due to the amount of time we spent together, but now, I feel completely different."

"Anakin," my heart was racing, as he continued to whisper into my ear.

"Maker, I missed you so much."

He was just trying to be friendly, that's all this was.

"Now, I know you are not that naive," he let out a deep chuckle, reading my mind.

"Is this your way of coercing me into joining the dark side?" I said softly, trying to play it off.

"There is no need to coerce you (Y/N), your heart is already doing all the work," Anakin told me. "All there is to do is to make up for lost time."

"No.."

"Continuing to deny it is only stalling the inevitable," he spoke in a playful way. "Your hatred towards the one you believed to be my killer only proves it more."

"I—" I cut myself off, as Anakin moved his head, now right over mine.

"What is it?" he asked me, his golden eyes flicking from my lips up to my eyes in quick fashion.

I gave in, nodding to his silent question and feeling the force lift off my hands.

Anakin pressed his lips to mine as I lifted my head up and met him midway. His robotic hand came down to my waist, the other combing through my hair as he helped hold my head steady. It was delicate and prepared, goosebumps crawling over my skin as his weight pressed me onto the cold temple floors. He was an expert in the way he worked around my mouth, the first time I had ever kissed anyone to begin with.

To think such a sacred place would be ruined due to our own shenanigans.

A Jedi and a Sith, making out in a temple with no care for sentiment.

His lips were chapped yet soft, and the more breaths we took between kissing the more swollen they became. Anakin didn’t seem to care though, continuing to go down on my neck allowing me to breath. He wasn’t going too far, but it was enough for the occasion, leaving marks I that wouldn’t leave for days.

It was madness.

Everything around us screamed in pleasure, the force happily chiming along with the two sides agreeing on something, even if it wasn’t an argument. Anakin had changed, and I couldn’t decide if it was for better or for worse.

If only those two could see me now, making love to the man that we had been running from for months. The copious amounts of rage had turned to attraction in a blink of an eye, rejoicing in his presence as my hand pressed against his tunic and I felt his abdomen underneath the fabric. He was such light and yet the darkness itself, drowning me in it as we sunk into a pool of ecstasy.

The cold stone floors were soon heated, as the temple grew humid and we both simultaneously agreed to take our tops off. It was the definition of multitasking, as I took off his armor and tunic, leaving behind a black pair of pants, and his boots. With the force he slipped my top off, gaining access to my collar bone and gracing it with his mouth. There was a possessive feeling in the air, as he took in my body for the first time with his own eyes as I did to him.

"You are so beautiful, it is intoxicating."

I felt myself smiling, sitting up and wrapping my arms around his neck, the both of us kissing deeply. This was it, holding our breath as we enjoyed one another, but the force was warning the both of us.

The temple shook, I almost forgot it was collapsing.

"We need to escape before we become trapped inside," Anakin said. "My ship is outside."

"And you assume I'm coming?"

"I know you are."

I laughed, acknowledging his foresight. We put on our clothes hurriedly yet thoroughly, as someone trained to handle life or death would. In truth, that was what we stood for, as Jedi and Sith both came together as one, in ways that would be frowned upon.

Except we didn't care.

We weren't denying it any longer.

Back in business since the recent Ahsoka episode. Hope you all enjoyed!

#darth vader x reader #darth vader imagine #darth vader x y/n #darth vader x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin x reader #suitless darth vader x reader

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tinandabin · 1 year

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Sagau but the reader is the ACTUAL creator part 3

Part 2 part 4

ngl, I was kind of scared to post this cause there were so many people to tag 😭😭

____

It's been what? 2 days? A week? Or perhaps a month without seeing you. The Vision Hunt Decree got stricter, they now used more violent methods to seize the vision under Ei's command. Ei hasn't left Plane Of Euthymia ever since she last heard your voice, all she does is meditate and drown herself in her sorrow.

Morax isolated himself, busying himself in the Wangshen Funeral Parlour, it is rare to see him even talk about Osmanthus wine now. He's trying his best to not think of you, but his mind just can't help but wander to your lovely face.

All Barbatos does is spend his time away at the tavern, drinking away till he no longer can. Drinking as much as he can so he can forget about his miserable life without you.

Oh, how long till they get to see you? Are you really doing all this for a mere mortal? Are they of such value to you? Would you place a mortal above them, your devoted acolytes? This is too cruel for their poor souls, they rather would die a hundred times, no, a thousand times than spend another second without seeing you. They can't live like this. They need you.

_____

"Um-uh, Your Grace, I was wondering if we could go to..Liyue? I would like to sight-see, if that is okay with you," The girl, whose name you found out is Revelyn, asked.

You found out that Revelyn doesn't really have any family, if she did then you would have returned her there. However, she grew up in an orphanage and then was left to fend for herself when she was old enough. You had even initiated the idea of her returning to the mortal realm, but she says she is too scared, for everyone probably hates her, I mean, they took their Divine Creator's attention away from them.

"Hesitate not dear, Seraphina will escort you," You replied, reading some documents and quickly filling out some slots.

Revelyn's body tensed up as she responded swiftly, "I was wondering whether you could come with me!" She ended with a loud huff, both of you surprised at her outburst.

"Oh, I do apologise; however I do not seem to have any free time today," You glanced at your clock and started to skim over the documents again.

"..I see, that's fine. We can go another day," Revelyn slowly got up and took her leave from your office.

Just as you were about to get up, you saw a letter settled neatly upon your desk. Opening it, you read it.

“Hello, Your Divinity, how are you? It has been quite a long time since I last saw you. You make me worried sick, I will not lie.

As for why I am contacting you, ever since you declared the punishment of the archons, Ei hasn't come out of Plane Of Euthymia and it looks like she is slipping into insanity.

As her familiar, it is my duty to make sure she is in her best state, no? I was perhaps hoping for you to end her punishment and we could also have some tea together.

Your Dearest,

Yae Miko ♡. ”

You settled the letter on a stack of books and smiled to yourself, noticing Yae Miko's little attempt to spend time with you. Oh well, you might as well amuse yourself.

That reminds you, didn't Revelyn want to go to Liyue? Let's hope she is fine heading to Inazuma. Inazuma sure is a beautiful place on its own, dangerous nonetheless.

Perhaps you have been too cruel on your acolytes? Ah, let's hope they learnt their lesson.

____

taglist: @shizunxie @dearloonies @iruiji @yani-dere @kiraisastay @fauxizs @salvationprodigy @thetruepair @lunalily19

do y'all like revelyn? I feel like making her the enemy somewhat. the archons vs revelyn who will win.

Masterlist

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avengersfantasies · 7 months

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A Night With Him in Bucharest - 12

Summary: You, Bucky, and James make a big decision.

Taglist:

@pattiemac1 @justsebstan @crist1216@kandis-mom @winterslove1917 @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @vonalyn @gojoismysensei @mavrellover91 @natashasilverfox @ilovetaquitosmmmm @casa-boiardi

Bucky has a Tumblr! @bucharestbuckybarnes

Series masterlist: Here

Author's note: I'm sorry it's a short chapter. Writer's block is starting to take over, so if you have ANY ideas you'd like to see in this series, please let me know!

Also, thank you to @nicoline1998enilocin for the help! It is greatly appreciated!

James looked at the two of you in complete confusion.

“Dere’s a baby in momma’s tummy?!” he exclaimed.

You and Bucky chuckled at the toddler’s reaction. “Yes, buddy,” you confirmed, picking him up and placing a kiss on his cheek. “There’s a baby in here.” You touched your belly, showing the little boy where his younger sibling was growing.

“When it be here?” he asked, looking back and forth at you and Bucky.

“About nine months,” Bucky smiled. “So, we don’t have long to get ready.”

James squirmed to get down, so you let him down. “I gots to get ready for da baby!”

Without another word, the toddler ran off to his room. You and Bucky chuckled at his excitement. “What do you think he’s doing?” Bucky asked as he pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head.

“Getting ready,” you laughed, looking at the young boy standing in the entrance of the living room holding out his toys.

“Da baby can have these!”

You and Bucky sat in the living room of the apartment you shared, looking at the ultrasound that proved that there was, in fact, a little person growing inside you.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” Bucky smiled and kissed your head, smiling against your hair. “We’re actually doing this.”

You smiled and rubbed your finger over the small bean-shaped being on the paper. “You’re already an amazing dad,” you smiled up at him.

“And you’re an amazing mom,” he replied, kissing you softly. “We do need to talk about something, though.”

You exhaled. “Right. Madripoor versus New York.”

“I’ll live anywhere,” Bucky told you. “As long as I have you and our little ones, I’m happy to call anywhere home. I just need to know if we need to start moving your stuff to New York, or if I should get my stuff sent here. I can’t keep buying clothes every week.” He let out a soft chuckle.

You nodded. You understood where he was coming from, and it was something that needed to be figured out. “This is the only home that James has known,” you told Bucky. “As silly as it might sound, I’d like for him to have some sort of say.”

“That makes sense,” he agreed with a soft smile. “Might cause some sort of issue if we just uproot him from where he’s grown up.”

You lay down with your head in his lap. “Well, if we do decide to move to New York, I’d prefer to do it before I get big,” you stated, watching Bucky rub your belly with his flesh hand. “If this pregnancy is gonna be anything like the one before, I am gonna to be exhausted.”

Bucky smiled down at you. “We’ll talk to him about it while we eat dinner.”

That night at dinner, you, Bucky, and James were eating homemade chili. Not knowing how to start the conversation, you glanced over to your lover.

“Hey, buddy?” Bucky said to get James’ attention.

The toddler looked up at his dad. “Yea, daddy?”

Bucky cleared his throat. “So, your momma and I were talking earlier, and we wanted to ask you something.” James nodded and Bucky continued. “How would you feel about moving to another big city?”

“Another big city?” James questioned, looking at the two of you. “What wrong with here?”

“Daddy lives in Brooklyn, in New York,” you told him. “And now that there’s a baby on the way, we need to figure out where we’re going to live.”

The toddler seemed to understand. “So we gonna have to move?”

“If you’re okay with it, buddy,” you promised. “We didn’t want to make any decision without telling you and knowing what you think about it.”

James thought for a moment, eating the peas on his plate. “Is it a real big city?”

“It is,” Bucky smiled.

“It’s where daddy’s from,” you said. “Remember how old daddy is?”

“Yeah!” James exclaimed.

“So daddy knows all the fun places to go,” you smiled. “You could have a new giant world to explore!”

“I wanna go!” James excitedly bounced. “Daddy, you show me all the fun tings?”

Bucky chuckled. “Yes, buddy…I’ll take you to all the best places that I loved going to as a child.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #the winter soldier fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #pregnant reader #pregnant!reader #dad!bucky #dad!bucky barnes

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54prowl · 6 months

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!!! Halloween Murals !!! 🎃👻🍬

Ghost 👻💀⚰

Trick-or-Treat 🍬🍭🍫

inspired by kuu-chan studio

Potion Bottle ✨🔮🧹

Happy Halloween to you all!!

Looking forward to seeing you in the holiday season. 👀

twt | ig | ko-fi | past comms | spicy comms

—

Thank you to everyone who participated in the event over the past month and a half.

Ghost Mural:

@antique-remains @arvandus @bluebellhairpin @chaoticmoonave @chaotic-on-main @chosofied @crowned-peony @crybaby-ink @dabisqueen @duckykisaki @echari3 @happybird16 @jingyuan @kaiapaia @kaidabakugou @kailthefailwhale @kweenkatsuki-main @margumis @massivementalitynut @meggsngrits @michellenero @minninugget @moshimochis @potionpeddlerpatchy @princess-okkotsu @puppmarolover2195 @pussydrunkfyodor @sailorstrawberi @saintshitposts @shockinglysubmissive @smolrandomblog @spacelabrathor @strawberrystepmom @tetzoro @thecatfather @the-milk-anon @twisteddaydreams1135 @tyga-lily @weird-dere @whats-her-quirk

Trick-or-treat:

@chaoticmoonave @chosofied @jeschalynn @kaiapaia @kailthefailwhale @strawberrystepmom @twisteddaydreams1135

Potion Bottle:

@jeschalynn @kailthefailwhale @tyga-lily

ily ily ily

#halloween #artists on tumblr #halloween2023 #happy halloween #prart #prowlle art #prowlle #ghost2023 #btw it's accurate that the moon is at a waning gibbous tonight

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maidoftheday · 1 year

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Today’s Kuudere of the Day: Eucliwood Hellscythe from Kore wa Zombie desu ka?

#anime #eucliwood hellscythe #kore wa zombie desu ka?#kuudere #kuudere week #dere month

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hermannish · 3 months

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the saltburn review

saltburn hit pretty close to home. largely because i lived it. at times it was personal and surreal, shocking and true. but in the end it was just another misguided attempt at understanding the misunderstood.

and whom are the misunderstood? the middle class and the one percent? or the soul searching queer? according to emerald fennell, it’s the latter.

for the most part i felt that oliver was created and portrayed accurately, though i was ultimately disappointed by his character arc. while the idea of him m*dering Felix and his family is darkly humorous and seems like an appropriate conclusion, i think it actually misrepresented his character entirely. simultaneously, it absolutely destroyed any sense of romanticism the film spent close to three acts persuading the audience on. instead of the psycho-erotic masterpiece you think just might serve as the male counterpart for killing eve, you get just another fuck you to the LGBTQ community and the one-percent economy. which i might add is grotesquely overdone in media, and the audience knows it by the time they reach the film’s stale ending.

and it is stale. every scene plays like a fever dream of conversations one has already heard before. with the most cliché monologues coming from Farleigh and Venetia. every word seems so painstakingly familiar one can’t help but draw the similarities to F. Scott’s Jay Gatsby. Though where Fitzgerald cuts his dreamy romance and imagination short before any nightmare can begin, Fennell embraces the demons of the night, dragging her Gatsby through the mud and the blood until he’s so unrecognizable she has to provide an alternate origin story to make up for Oliver’s unnatural behavior.

and it is unnatural. so unnatrual that by the credit roll, you’re not quite sure who Oliver is, or what his motives are. on the pretense of reality, it seems pretty rigid for a guy who grew up in a decent neighborhood to go from erotically obsessed with his classmate to a murderous usurper. a conclusion so categorically absurd, it’s impossible to believe- largely because anyone on Oliver’s spectrum would never be able to sustain the public image it takes to uphold Saltburn let alone the ghost of Felix. His nude dance around the estate might as well be his seven seconds of heaven before the vultures descend at Farleigh’s call. And who would Farleigh find? Venetia claims her family believes Oliver to be a spider while she herself is partial to the idea that he’s a moth. [though ultimately she decides he’s a freaky nobody.] i personally concluded he was a werewolf. Normal when the prodigal *son is out, but absolutely possessed at night. Oliver himself professes that he is in fact a vampire. but much to every viewers dismay, we’re not entirely sure why.

3/5 stars: guess it’s just an oliver Quick Horror movie for the rich and famous.

bonus:

which saltburn plague are you?

let me know in the comments

the vampire: dead. cold hearted. bloodsucking. manipulative. stealing the life out of everyone and everything after they invite you in. guaranteed to love you forever or your money back.

the spider: the silent observer, hiding in corners, working in the shadows, whispering half-truths to make your bed of lies. and once you’ve captured your lovely guest, up up and away they go. down your throat for dinner.

the moth: addicted to the light, and the money, and the scene, and the shiny diamond irresistible things. you do nothing but eat holes into everything and everyone until the light is yours alone.

the freaky nobody: you have an erotic obsession with the guy you met in chem class, or the 60 year old lead actress on an emmy award winning tv show. you spend your days, weeks, months admiring from afar and planning how you’ll end up being together. you like to spy on them while they masturbate and after they’re dead you wear their aromas and old underwear.

the werewolf: an absolute darling pet during the day. someone's best friend and best mate. you wait by their side and do everything they ask in complete and utter obedience and loyalty. but as soon as the full moon comes out you can't be trusted. the demon inside comes out, no one is safe, and everything is considered dinner.

would you / did you / never ever

let me know in the comments

1. lend your bike to your secret crush

I WOULD ABSOLUTELY. wouldn’t go so far as pre-sabotaging the bicycle, but if she needed a ride, i’d give her mine.

2. watch your crush sleep with another person

never ever. i don’t think i could. it’s one of those things that i think i never would want to see. I think i would black out. I think I would get jealous in a way that i’ve never been jealous before. and i think it would haunt me in a way that nothing’s ever haunted me before. i can’t see it being healthy.

3. make out with your crushes love interest

there’s a duplicity to this. maybe even a triplicity given the nature of the game. would I? yes. if the circumstances were right. have i? I have - sort of. not really. there was a guy that i knew who had worked with her previously. and they weren’t romantically linked at all. but i remember thinking when we made out, this guy has been near her. they've touched. because of my circumstances, it felt mystical and urgent, but i never allowed it to happen again. mainly because deep down i knew i was using him. and all i would ever do was use him for precisely that reason. and that wasn’t fair. so i never talked to him again. never ever? she’s married. her husband is this guy. i don’t think i could kiss him. i don’t think i would. but if i did i would imagine it being for the sole reason of missing her because she was no longer with us.

4. tell your crush you suffered a traumatic event to get them to befriend you even more

no. not to the extent that Ollie lied. that was pretty big even for me. i’d tell a white lie. I have told a white lie to get my crush to befriend me even more, but to lie about trauma is diabolical. [the lie i told, was about not having a twitter account in my crushes honorum. in truth, i really did. and i didn’t want her to know about it because it was my place to be transparent. and curious, and sexually fluid. it was my place to be absolutely mental. but i never lied about traumas. [that’s gnarly.]

5. spend the night over your super rich friend’s house

never ever. for precisely the reasons detailed in this film, however parody the script may have been, there’s a lot of truth to the scenario. to the reactions. I always did my best to avoid putting myself into those situations. when you’re in social settings like that i think it’s important to realize and establish your role early on. if they’re fire, you’ve got to position yourself as water, or earth, or wind and be realistic about that. if you’re not, you’re just setting yourself up for failure. you just seem delusional. you've got to be strong. be your own character. set your boundaries and don’t apologize for them. if you don't you''ll only ever be a play thing. you want to make an impression? you want to be memorable? my advice is to keep networking. don't limit yourself to one person just because they're so and so and they have connections. keep networking. make your own connections. and make connections that are outside of their circle. that way if things do go south, the most you lose is an understanding, but never your newly earned position. when you limit yourself you become dependent on others for your happiness and growth. you don't just come off as a moth, but a leech. [that's your que pamela!] it's just not attractive.

6. slurp your crushes masturbation bathwater

abso-fucking-lutely - on second thought it might be a bit too soapy for my tasting. but i’d definitely do a finger dip.

7. perform oral sex during someone’s menstrual cycle

like a full session? probably not. some people try and justify it and make it acceptable but the fact is it’s unsanitary, unhealthy, and unclean. there’s even risk of giving your partner a bacterial infection. so no. not exactly. but i know it’s possible for some women to become aroused. i’d be open to fingering long term, but nothing oral. i have nothing to prove in doing that.

8. play psychological mind games with your competition

i did. don’t recommend it at all. it’s enough to make a person go insane. and there are so many other wonderful things you could be doing. like being kind and being genuine. that’s not to say that being that way will inherently make you exempt from offensive behaviors- and by offensive behaviors i am referring to the unmentionable hazing experience wealthy young adults play on middle class young adults. that's the ugly side of ambition. the part that you’re unprepared for because no one really expects it. you're so focused on socially advancing that once you've gotten your foot in the door the only thing you can process is the success of it. the next steps of it. it's a lot. one minute you think you've just secured generational wealth for your family and the next you're standing in an arena with a sword while all the advanced gather for entertainment. it can just be impossible and manipulative, and jealous for no reason. they’ll hurt you just because they can, just because they’re not having a good day. and it can cost you everything. so don't go in it with the expectation you're going to win. the game is rigged. go in with the intention to survive. you never know, you might get lucky.

9. kill your crush after they found out about your deception and decided they no longer wanted to be in a relationship with you

nooooo!!!! never ever! if anything, i’d kill myself before i had the nerve to kill my crush. to ruin those eyes? and that hair? and those legs? and that ass? and those lips?! PLEASE. the last thing i’d want to do is kill someone i’m in love with! it's just unfathomable. i can't even imagine it. life just wouldn't have meaning without my crush. even if she is married. i don't care. i still want her alive and breathing. if anything i want her to live forever.

10. masturbate on your crushes grave.

this one made me laugh. in hindsight no. maybe you know, i’d think about us being together when i go to lay some flowers, but full on, naked and thrashing against the dirt? i can’t say that’s for me. I can’t speak for what happens in the car though- especially if the grave just happens to be by the beach...

#saltburn #gatsby #killing eve #love:andie #parasite #barry keoghan #jacob elordi #jacob elrodis bath water #rosamund pike #felix catton #oliver quick #psych:andie

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ky-tumbles · 2 years

Text

Me and All My Heathens - Rhett Abbott

I do love all the incredible smut that’s been posted for this sexy cowboy 🤠

But I wanted some soft family man Rhett, and this popped into my head while working!

Summary: good ol’ Abbott family fun

Warnings: just mind melting fluff, maybe a mention or smidge of smut

His hand rests on your thigh, and his other hand is on the steering wheel. There's some love song playing softly, you can barely make out the lyrics over the soft snoring coming from the middle of the van.

You look over your shoulder for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. Your two year old is sleeping, and your 11 month old is swatting at his toy with one hand with his other stuffed in his mouth.

“They’re fine,” Rhett grumbles, he squeezes your thigh playfully before moving his hand up to your stomach. His thumb rubs up and down against the fabric of your sweater dress.

“Just wanted to check on my boys,” you shoot him a look. “I don’t think they’ve ever been this relaxed in the car before.”

Rhett just hums, eyes focusing on the road ahead. You stifle a yawn, hand going to your seat adjuster. Your chair reclines back a bit and you adjust your hips to a comfortable position. From your new position, it’s easier to admire your husband.

His hair is ruffled from his hat. He’d taken it off before he began driving. Theres a layer of scruff on his face, and his lips are pursed in thought. Your hand reaches out to tuck some hair back out of his face.

He catches your hand in his and presses a quick kiss to your palm before releasing it. There’s a glint in his eye and you chuckle.

“What?” He questions gruffly, sounding very much like his father for a millisecond.

“I just realized I forgot to check on my big boy,” you tease, leaning across the console to kiss his cheek.

Rhett’s cheeks flush, he wants so desperately to turn his head and kiss you so passionately your socks will fall off, but he also knows there’s three extra lives in the car he’s responsible for now. Three years ago, he would’ve pulled the vehicle over and had you the way he wanted but it’s hard with two little ones in the back and your belly in the way.

He’s full on lost in thought, eyes glinting in a familiar way. He’s definitely thinking about that one time two years ago. He’s got a coy smile on his face, the kind he gets before he bends you over the nearest surface.

“Remember that one time?” Rhett smirks, being as vague as possible to elicit a reaction from you.

You rest your head on your chin. You’re pretending to think about his question, it’s impossible to know what time he’s talking about. “No, babes, I have no idea what time you’re thinking of.”

His blue eyes leave the road for the briefest second, sparkling wildly. The look reminds you of a younger Rhett, one that had just put a ring on your finger and wanted nothing more than you by his side. He’s interrupted before he can indulge you in the dalliance that occupies his mind.

“Dada? We dere yet?” Ryder inquires, the two year old’s eyes are fighting to stay open. He lets out a large yawn as you peak your head over your shoulder.

His voice startles his little brother, you can see Colt in the baby mirror. His hand is no longer in his mouth, eyes wide threatening crocodile tears.

“Almost there, buddy,” Rhett reassures just as he pulls off the road and down the Abbott driveway. The normally yellow driveway is covered in a layer of snow.

You smile as the house comes into view. Royal had hung Christmas lights recently, something he’d taken to doing once Amy came along.

You can see Perry standing on the porch, eagle eyes watching your van pull in slowly.

Rhett groans. “He’s going to give me shit about the van.”

You roll your eyes as he pulls to a stop in front of the house. “He’s your older brother, he gives you shit for everything.”

Rhett just scoffs, playfully annoyed as he puts the van in park. He’s quick to get his seat belt off and get around to your door.

Perry is just as quick, bounding down the steps and walking to the car with fervour only an uncle who hasn’t seen his nephews in days has.

The door behind yours is pulled open at the same time as yours. Rhett helps you out and on your feet as Perry unclips Ryder. You can hear the giggles from your oldest as his uncle tickles his belly.

“Getting so big buddy!” Perry laughs, placing the boy on his hip and walking him towards the porch.

Your husband places a hand on your lower back as he leads you behind Perry towards the house, you hesitate. Colt is still in his car seat, he’s whining and the sound breaks your heart.

“Can’t leave the baby in the car,” you say, turning back to go get him.

“I will get the baby. The gorgeous pregnant lady is going to get her cute little butt in the house where she’ll be comfortable.” Rhett reasons back, eyes intense as they stare you down. He means business and who are you to argue with him, he looks especially sexy when he bosses you around, but you'll wait until everyone else is asleep to tell him.

Perry hands you Ryder as he goes to assist his brother. “I’ll help you grab the bags.”

Ryder yawns as he leans his head against your shoulder. You rub a hand up his back as you open the front door.

“Nice mini van by the way,” Perry snarks as you slip into the warm house. You giggle to yourself, brothers.

You don’t hear Rhett’s reply as you walk into the warmth of the Abbott family home. Your in-laws are seated on the couch, a holiday movie playing quietly on the TV. Amy sits on a lounger beside them, looking the ever bored teenager she recently became.

She’s the first to notice you as you set Ryder down on the ground. The little Abbott boy runs past his grandparents and straight to the farm dog that is sleeping like it's dead in the corner.

Royal and Cecelia both lift themselves from the couch, they each embrace you. Cecelia presses a kiss to your forehead, cupping your belly lovingly.

"You are absolutely glowing!" She smiles, you can see the excitement behind her eyes. She loves having little Abbott's running around the ranch. "How are your parents? You had a nice visit?"

"They're doing well, they say hi. They sent us back with pie." You laugh pointing to the bag that Perry has appeared in the kitchen with.

Royal is quick to inspect the contents, and Cecelia follows him, shaking her head and mumbling something about his health. You chuckle watching the two, it amazes you how after all these years they are still those two kids that fell in love.

A yip from the dog draws your eyes to your oldest boy. Ryder is pulling his tail and it's clear the dog is unhappy.

"Ryder William Abbott, you leave that dog alone right now." You project sternly, eyes narrowing at the little boy.

His gaze drops as he releases the dog's tail and mopes over to you. Rhett is suddenly at your side, with no idea what's going on but ready to back you up at any moment. Ryder's lip juts out as he wraps his arms around your legs.

"Sworry, momma," his bright eyes shine up at you. This face makes him look just like his father and you melt a little inside.

Rhett, sensing your resolve crumbling with the look given to you by your oldest baby, steps in. He crouches to the ground and holds on to your son's shoulder.

"You don't like it when Colt hits you, do you?" Rhett questions, face deadly serious.

The whole house has gone quiet, the family in the kitchen pretending to keep themselves busy while definitely listening in.

Ryder nods, shifting back and forth on his feet. He looks at his father and then back to you, trying to win your empathy.

"We can't go around hurting other people or animals, buddy. It's not nice." Rhett lectures, it's hot when he goes into full-on dad mode.

Ryder nods, his dad lets him go and he runs off to play with some toys. Colt's little footsteps can be heard behind you, you turn to catch the little boy but he blasts right past you towards his older brother.

"Wow," Perry laughs, as he joins you and Rhett in the living room, beer in hand. "You've got a little handful there."

Both the Abbott parents chuckle deviously at that.

"Reminds me of you boys when you were that little," Royal says as he sits back down on the couch.

Rhett leads you to the other couch, letting you perch yourself there before he sits as well. He pulls your back against his body and you lean into him. His hand splays itself over your stomach, sending the baby within into a kicking fit.

"Uncle Rhett," Amy sings, her voice going up an octave. She wants something.

He looks up at her, eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Yes?" He questions, not trying to let her hear his hesitation.

"Are we going to have our usual sleepover?" She inquires, shooting her dad a dirty look when he laughs out loud.

It was a tradition they'd started years ago when you and Rhett had first started dating. At the start of every school holiday, Rhett, Amy, Perry and yourself would camp out on the living room floor and watch movies. With the boys being so little last year, neither joined but you imagine that Ryder will throw a hissyfit if he's not allowed to join.

"Of course, kiddo." He smiles, his face lighting up genuinely. He loves that his teenage niece still wants to keep up their little traditions. "but aunt Y/N won't be joining us."

You can't even bring yourself to be sad about it. With the size of your stomach, there's no way that the living room floor would be comfortable. Not to mention how your back is sore in a normal bed, god forbid you sleep without your pregnancy pillow.

"That's fair," Amy replies, smiling happily.

#rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott #rhett abbott imagine #rhett abbott x you #outer range #lewis pullman

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little-murmaider · 8 months

Text

(A little WIP Wednesday (On A Thursday) because moments after completing AOTD for the first time I launched into an intense in-depth Skwisgaar character study, Obviously.)

“I know what’cher doin’.”

“De works of t’ree men? Ja, what else ams new, cans we fockus?” He pushes Nathan’s reading glasses up the slope of his nose and into his hair. “Dere’s somet’ings abouts dis chords progression dat’s not gelling for mes…”

Skwisgaar glances up. Pickles has pivoted to face away from his kit, hunched over, forearms resting on his thighs. His Rock Talk pose. Goddamnit.

“Whats.”

“Yer checkin’ in on everybahdy.” He flicks his wrist in the space between them. “Dis is a check-in.”

“De songs gots to gets done, does it nots?” He dodges. Pickles doesn’t buy it. He rises, idly scratching the side of his neck with the end of his drumstick.

“Sure,” he drawls, ambling over to where Skwisgaar is cross-legged on the ground. “Butcha saught me out t’work on th’sahng right after Nathan screamed at me t’go fuck myself.”

“Did dat happens?” Skwisgaar shoots for airy innocence and misses by a mile.

Pickles plops down in front of him. “I’m just sayin’ yer timin’s nyeeeehhhhhhhh a l’il suspect.”

“Mine timings am imppecables,” he snaps. “Ams always where I needs to bes.”

Pickles’s mouth stretches in that stupid, sideways, Cheshire Cat-like grin, polishing his front teeth his tongue—FUCK Skwisgaar walked right into that one.

“Musickallys,” he adds, pathetically.

“Dood, y’wanna talk about naht new? Dis is naht new. You actin’ all—”

He extends his arms out to full length and tips back, dropping his voice and crossing his eyes.

“YYYYYUUUUUUEEEEEGHHHHHHHH Gets Away From Mes I Hates You Peoples while sneakin’ around makin’ sure all’a us are okey? Y’think I don’ notice dat?”

“I t’inks de lack of access to drugs ams giving you brain damage.”

“Y’might be able t’fool dese other dooshbeegs, but y’ceen’t fool me. I’ve had ya klocked—and I’m sayin’ clock wit’ a k, t’be clear—since ya braught det Norwegian riff-raff into our lives.”

“When dids you becomes de type of guys what say riff-raff?”

“I see ya, Skwis. I’ve always seen ya.”

“Ooooooh does yous?” There was a time where the one-two punch of his withering tone and devastating eye roll would reduce a man to ash. But it’s been a rough few years. He’s gotten soft. His roller shoulders and rapid-fire arpeggios betray him. “And whats eggs-acktly ams you seeing wif dem beady littles badger eyes?”

The toe of Pickles sneaker brushes Skwisgaar’s ankle and he fights off a flinch.

“Dat despite yer best efforts.” His voice is too familiar, too fond. He scooches closer. “Yer a good guy, Skwigelf.”

Skwisgaar scoffs. The metal strings sting against his callouses, blood pooling hot in the ends of his fingers, and something must be wrong with his hookup because there’s a high pitch whine in his ears and a buzz in his chest and they need to finish the song the song’s not done they need to get it done—

“Skwisgaar.”

The pinch of Pickles’s thumb and forefinger on Skwisgaar’s jaw shocks a gasp out of him, the guitar clattering to the ground with a CLANG. Skwisgaar’s jolts, involuntary, but Pickles’s hold is firm.

“Look at me.” His voice is level, his gaze bright and a little watery, pinning him to the spot. “You are good, Skwisgaar.”

And, well.

He doesn’t know why this, out of everything, is what gets him. He’s been more than a little unnerved by the Pickles is Band Mom thing, mostly because he already has a mom and he actually likes Pickles, but here is his friend, at the end of the world, saying the words he has always, always wanted to hear, and the gossamer bubble of emotion that’s been swelling against his ribs these last few months, at last, bursts.

Distantly he hears his breath hitch, feels tears stream down his cheeks. He’s an embarrassingly ugly crier so when so when he’s crushed into Pickles’s chest, when he inhales that familiar scent of hair wax and old weed and something uniquely Pickles (how does he smell wet he always smells wet) he curls his arms around his waist and sobs.

#metalocalypse #skwisgaar skwigelf #pickles the drummer #aotd spoilers #not really but let’s be safe #my fanfic

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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

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