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writingwithciara · 8 months

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18 ~Matt Sturniolo~

summary: y/n’s family wants her home for the holidays and this year, they’re expecting her to bring a guest. she struggles to find someone who her parents will love so she settles on someone who doesn’t fit the image her parents have for her, or so she thinks

word count: 7.9k (she’s a long one)

pairing: matt sturniolo x reader

notes: loosely based off the song ‘18’ by anarbor (that was the goal but it changed halfway through) also was supposed to post this around christmas but i never got around to it. also might post a part 2 for valentine’s day but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️

part 2 !

“Yes, dad. I’ll be there Saturday morning.”

“With a special friend I hope.”

“Yeah. A special friend indeed.” y/n began chewing on her fingernails. She knew her dad really wanted her to find someone and she had been trying a lot recently. But nobody she went out with fit her dads perfect image. He wanted her to find someone who was not only a gentleman but someone she could easily get along with. There was only 1 person she could think of who fit that but he’s gay so she knew that wouldn’t fool her dad.

“Okay sweetie. We’ll see you Saturday morning.” Her dad chuckled and hung up the phone. y/n dropped her phone and laid on her bed, slowly losing faith.

After a few moments, she dialed Nick’s number and waited for him to pick up the FaceTime request.

“Hey. What’s up?” he smiled at her and noticed her expression. “Everything okay?”

“Not really. I’m having a crisis that I don’t know how to handle.” She sighed and noticed his background. “Are you filming right now?”

“No. I’m just in the car waiting for Chris and Matt.” He looked out the window. “What’s your crisis?”

“I told dad this year would be the year I came home to visit and right before he hung up just now, I promised to bring a ‘special friend’ this time. The problem is, I don’t have a special friend to bring home and I don’t want to break my father’s heart. What am I going to do?”

“I can help if you want.”

“That’s lovely, Nicolas but you’re gay and even though you do fit my dad’s perfect image-“

“Aww, thank you.”

“I just can’t bring you home with me. Sorry.”

“I was suggesting that I help find someone for you.” he looked back out the window. “Oh, Matt could work.”

“No, I don’t think so. Matt is the complete opposite of what my dad wants for my future.” y/n sighed. “What about Chris?”

“Honesy, if Matt is the complete opposite of what your dad wants for you, then Chris ain’t what you’re looking for.”

“You’re right. Maybe I’ll just have to disappoint him this year.”

“How long do you have to find someone?”

“I told my dad I’d be there Saturday morning so the flight leaves Friday.”

“That gives us 3 days to find the perfect guy for you.” Nick set his phone down. “The boys are coming back and we’re going to be filming so I’m gonna have to let you go.”

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later then.” y/n went to hang up but Nick stopped her.

“Come by the house later and we can discuss this some more. I’m sure we’ll find someone.”

“Alright. See you later.” y/n hung up and looked up at her ceiling. Maybe she had to rethink her options.

Later that night, y/n found herself in the same position but this time she was on Nick’s bed. He was laying next to her as they went through a list of possible guys.

“How about Jordan?” Nick shot up and looked at his best friend.

“No way in hell. I never want to see that jerk again.”

“Okay. Um, maybe we can get Nate to do it.”

“I love Nate but he’s not exactly ideal for the occasion.” y/n picked up her phone. “We’ve gone through all the possibilities. There’s nobody good enough to bring home to my dad.”

“Maybe we need to think outside the box.”

“And what do you mean exactly?”

“Maybe you need to bring home the opposite of what your dad wants for you.”

“Then we would have to narrow that down to who’d be most willing to go and someone who I can actually stand being around for 3 days.” y/n looked through the list and none of the names stuck out. “This is hopeless.”

“Wait, hold on.” Nick put his finger to his lips for a second and then smiled. “You said earlier that Matt was the complete opposite, right?”

“Yeah.” y/n matched his smile. “And I actually enjoy spending time with him. I should ask him.”

“The worst he could say is no.” Nick opened his bedroom door and the duo ventured into the living room together. Matt looked up from his phone and smiled.

“Hey, Matt. Can I ask you for a favor?”

“That depends. Is it dangerous and/ or disgusting?”

“No, of course not.” y/n sat in the open seat next to him and took a deep breath. “I promised my dad I’d be bringing someone home for the holidays and I don’t want to disappoint him so I was wondering-“

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to be the one who disappoints your dad. I hate disappointing people. I’m sorry.”

“It’s totally fine.” y/n stood up and grabbed her phone. “Well, Nick. Thanks for trying to help me. This has been fun but I think I’m going to head home and start packing.”

Matt went to walk back to his bedroom but Nick stopped him and silently pleaded with is younger brother. Matt just rolled his eyes and headed back to the living room. “Wait. I’ll go with you.”

“You will?”

“On one condition.”

“What is that?”

“If your dad finds out we’re not actually dating, you have to take all the blame.”

Thursday night rolled around and y/n found herself back in Nick’s bedroom, doing a final check to make sure she had everything she would need.

“I can’t believe you got Matt to agree to come with me.”

“It wasn’t difficult, really. All I did was give him a look.”

“And he just gave in? That’s odd.”

“Maybe he likes you.”

“No. Don’t even think about that. Gross. Not my type at all.” y/n protested.

“You don’t have to like him that way. I’m just saying it is a possibility.” Nick shrugged his shoulders and looked down at y/n. “Anyway, do you have everything?”

“Yes. And even if I didn’t, I could always grab stuff when I get there.” y/n smiled and looked at Nick’s computer. “I think I should probably get some sleep soon. I know the flight is tomorrow night but I don’t want to wake up too late.”

“Can you manage to stay up for a movie?” Nick pleaded and y/n knew she couldn’t say no to him.

“Fine. Just one.”

The one movie turned into 3 and they ended up staying up all night. By the next afternoon, Matt was fully rested while y/n was moving around slowly.

“This is why you’re supposed to go to bed at a decent hour, y/n.” Matt chuckled as he handed her a cup of her favorite coffee. “I know the flight doesn’t leave until later tonight but I was thinking we go early & beat the traffic. And maybe we can rehearse our story on the plane.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s a plan that can work.” y/n took a sip of the coffee. “But how early are we talking?”

“I’m planning on leaving in about an hour.” Matt looked at his phone. “It’ll be about 2:30 then and it takes an hour to get to the airport. Flight leaves at 6. It’s about a 5 hour flight so we’d be getting there pretty late so I booked us a hotel room for the night. Of course, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh my goodness. That thought was running through my head after I got off the phone with my dad but I completely forgot to do that. Thanks, Matthew.”

“No problem. I figured you’d be dealing with other stuff so I figured I could take care of this one little thing.” Matt smiled and began heading to his room. “Oh. The room has 2 beds, because I figured it would be weird for you.”

When he disappeared behind his door, Nick looked at y/n with a knowing smirk. “He’s been thinking about you. How sweet.”

“Shut up, Nicolas.” y/n turned to Chris. “I know you two like to fight a lot so please don’t kill my best friend while I’m gone.”

“I can’t guarantee anything.” Chris chuckled and threw his hands up. “But I will try my absolute best while you’re gone.”

“That’s all I ask, Christopher.” y/n smiled and went to grab her bag from Nick’s room. When she returned, Matt was packing some food into a bag. She gave him a look and he shrugged.

“Snacks for the trip because, like Nick, you like to snack a lot. Thought it’d be best to be prepared.” He set the bag down on the counter and looked at her. “This was supposed to be a surprise. Thought I would have it all done by the time you got out of the room.”

“Sorry for spoiling the wonderful surprise.”

“I’m just doing what a good boyfriend would do.” He chuckled, mostly to himself and grabbed the bag. “I’ll meet you out in the car.”

“Guess I’ll see you guys in a few days.” y/n hugged each boy quickly and headed out to the car.

The car ride was faster than they thought it would be and they arrived at the airport almost 3 hours early. When they boarded the flight, Matt did some more time calculations and estimated that they would be arriving in Miami around midnight.

So, when they landed in Miami and 11:57, Matt couldn’t help but be proud of his estimation. He smirked and y/n laughed at his excitement.

“Okay wise guy. Let’s head to the hotel so we can finish going over the story. My dad wants to meet for breakfast in the morning and he’s gonna have a lot of questions.”

Matt lead her to the rental car and held the door for her. When she got in, he took a brief moment to think about details for the story that would be believable before he got in the car and headed to the hotel.

At the hotel, y/n was relieved to actually see 2 beds and not have a cliché mix up where they’d have to share a bed. It felt weird sharing a room with Matt, though she supposed she would have to get used to it, seeing as she’d be doing it for 3 days.

“Okay, so I was thinking about the length of this ‘relationship’ and I think it’d be believable if we say it’s been 10 months.”

“Coincidentally, I was thinking the same thing. Maybe we say I asked you out for Valentine’s Day and it blossomed from there.” Matt smiled and sat on the empty bed. “How romantic should we say the date was?”

“On a scale of 1 to 10, I’d say a 7. Not too romantic for a first date but just romantic enough to be believable.”

“Got it.” Matt pulled his notebook out and jotted some notes down. “Okay, what else do we need to discuss?”

“Hmm.” y/n pondered the question for a moment. “Who should we say fell in love first? That’ll definitely get my dad hooked onto the story.”

“Well in that case, we should say I fell first. We can say that when Nick introduced us over a year ago, it was instant for me but you took a while longer to warm up to the idea. Maybe we could also say that I finally won you over when you saw how much I really cared about my brothers.”

“Sounds cheesy, but I actually like it.” y/n leaned against her headboard. “So far, the story is that when we met, you were instantly in love with me. But I didn’t care much for you at first. Then, I saw how caring you could be and when you asked me out on Valentine’s Day, I said yes. And we’ve been together ever since.”

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

“What if my dad asks about your future?”

“Then I’ll say that I want to marry you, but only when the time is right. And that I want at least 2 kids so they’ll always have a lifelong best friend. Siblings are the best thing you could ever have in life.”

“Perfect answer. I’m an only child but my dad has 3 brothers and they’re super close so he’ll love that answer. He’ll probably tell you how much he feels bad about not giving me a sibling.”

“And I can just say that my brothers already treat you like family, so you get to experience all of the sibling stuff in LA. Albeit, a little late in life, but that they would do anything for you if you asked them to and that you guys also fight like real siblings sometimes.”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Matthew?” y/n looked over at him and saw the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. “Are you real?” she reached across the gap to poke at him but he swatted her hand away and finished writing the notes down.

“I’m 100% real, baby.” He smirked playfully and set the notebook down on the table. “Are we all set for the story?”

“Yes. I believe so.” y/n got under the covers and looked at him one last time before turning off the lamp. “Goodnight, Matt.”

The next morning, Matt woke up first and almost forgot where he was. But then he looked at the bed next to him and saw y/n sleeping peacefully and he remembered they were in Miami. He glanced back at y/n after checking the time and noticed her stirring. When her eyes opened, she smiled.

“Good morning, Matthew.”

“Good morning, sleepy head.” He chuckled and climbed out of bed. “We have to meet your dad in an hour.”

“Dad and his girlfriend.” y/n stretched and went to her bag to grab an outfit.

“You want first shower?” Matt asked her, causing y/n to nearly drop her phone in shock.

“Yes.” she grabbed her stuff and ran to the bathroom. Matt chuckled and went on his phone. There was a missed call from Nick and a few hundred texts from both of his brothers. He clicked on Nick’s contact and waited for the answer.

“Oh thank god you’re not dead!” was the first thing that came out of Nick’s mouth. “You need to answer your phone more often, asshole. We were worried.”

“Yeah. Really worried, jackass.” Matt heard Chris’ voice in the background. “How’s Miami?”

“It’s actually going really well. We got so many details for our ‘relationship’ story that her dad is going to love.”

“That’s awesome. Can I talk to y/n?”

“She’s in the shower but when she comes out, I’ll tell her to call you while i take my turn.”

“You let her have first shower? Who are you?” Nick joked. “Okay. Just tell her to call me when she’s done. I have something important to tell her.”

“And not me?”

“It’s about you, actually.” Matt could hear Chris laughing in the background, no doubt because he said something he wasn’t supposed to. He just chuckled and said a quick goodbye before hanging up on his brother. Y/n walked out of the bathroom a few moments later and smiled. “Hey. Nick wants you to call him while I’m in the shower.”

“Okay.” She immediately clicked on his name while Matt disappeared. When Nick’s face flashed on her screen, she smiled.

“Glad to see you’re not dead. Do you ever answer your phone?”

“I was in the shower.” She giggled and looked at the bathroom door. “What’s up?”

“I have something super important to talk to you about. It involves Matthew.”

“What is it?” she looked at the 2 boys on her screen and when they kept exchanging looks, it started worrying her. “If you guys don’t say anything, I’m going to freak out.”

“Apparently some girl has been going around LA saying she’s dating Matt. Thought I’d let you know, just in case it comes up at some point while you guys are away.”

“Oh. That’s not that big of a deal. It’s not like it’s a real relationship between us. If he is dating her, that’s alright.”

“Just don’t let your dad hear about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t be too happy that his daughter is getting ‘cheated’ on.”

“I’ll do my best to keep him of the internet.” y/n smiled and looked back at the bathroom. “I’ll talk to you guys later tonight.” She ended the call just as Matt emerged from the bathroom. “How was your shower?”

“Refreshing.” He chuckled and picked up his phone. “So what did Nick have to talk to you about?”

“Apparently some girl has been going around LA saying that you guys are dating. He just told me to keep the news away from my dad.”

“Oh, must be Jessica.”

“Who the hell is Jessica?” y/n raised an eyebrow and suddenly realized how jealous that sounded so she dialed it back a bit. “I mean, who’s Jessica?”

“I went on one date with her 6 months ago and she’s been stalking me ever since. Nothing to be worried about. I only have eyes for you.” he playfully winked at her and grabbed the car keys. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Let’s do this.” y/n followed him out to the car. As they parked at the restaurant they’d be meeting her dad at, y/n looked at Matt. “How are you feeling?”

“Honestly, a little nervous. I never met a girls dad before. What if he hates me?”

“Matthew Bernard,” y/n paused her sentence and squeezed his hand. “he will not hate you. I promise. You have nothing to be nervous about. I’m going to be with you the entire time.”

“Thanks.” He looked out the window. “Should we head in now?”

“Yeah. Let’s do it!” y/n got out of the car and grabbed Matt’s hand again when he approached her. They walked in and Matt followed y/n to a table where another couple sat. He stayed a little behind her as she greeted the man and woman with hugs.

“It’s good to see you sweetheart. It’s been too long.” The woman beamed brightly.

“I know. I’ve just been really busy out in LA these last few months.” y/n looked back at Matt. “Speaking of busy, I would like you guys to meet my boyfriend. Dad, Crystal, this is Matt. Matt, this is my dad and his girlfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard nothing but wonderful things about you two.”

“I wish I could say the same but y/n has failed to tell me anything about you.”

“I’m sorry about that, Dad. But I didn’t want to oversell him and have him not meet your expectations.”

“Well, is he treating you good?”

“Absolutely. The most perfect gentleman.”

“Then my expectations are met.” y/n’s dad smiled at Matt and they sat back at the table. As they ate, Matt found himself warming up to y/n’s dad and his girlfriend. She was right. He really had nothing to worry about.

“So since you two have been dating for quite some time, I would assume you know a lot about my daughter.”

“Well, dad, Matt doesn’t-“

“I know lots about her.” Matt looked at y/n and smiled. “What questions do you have for me, sir?”

“What is her favorite color?”

“Her favorite color is green. That was an easy one.”

“Okay. Um, what is her favorite meal?”

“Okay, that’s a little tougher. But I know it really depends on her mood. If she’s sad, she prefers chili with shredded cheese. If she’s happy, her favorite meal is a nice juicy cheeseburger with a side of french fries. If she’s angry, the best food to give her is a crunchy taco so she can take out her frustration by breaking the shell.” Matt glanced over at y/n and smiled. “And her comfort food is vanilla ice cream topped with hundreds of sprinkles and drizzled with warm, not hot, caramel sauce.”

“I think it would’ve been best if you just told us everything you know about her instead of me asking, huh?”

“Dad, stop.” y/n giggled and hid her face in Matt’s arm. “You’re lucky I love you guys.”

“We love you too, honey.” y/n’s dad smiled as he reached for the bill. Matt was faster and already had his wallet out.

“Please, allow me.” Matt placed the money on the table, along with a generous tip for the waitress, before y/n’s dad could fight against him. Her dad just smiled and watched as Matt’s arm found its way around y/n’s waist. He was pleased knowing that his daughter had found someone so caring and attentive.

“Well, sweetheart, we’re going head off. Are you gonna be staying at the house tonight?”

“That’s what I was originally planning. If Matt is okay with it.”

“Of course. That sounds like fun.” Matt stood up from the booth and took y/n’s hand.

“We’ll meet you guys there in a bit. There’s something I wanna show Matt.”

“Okay. See you lovebirds later.” Crystal hugged y/n and waved to Matt before heading out to the car. Y/n turned to Matt and smiled.

“I had no idea you knew that much about me.”

“Well, most of it is from being very attentive but I had to get a few bits of information from Nick and Chris.”

“Still. You remembered it and I think my dad likes you.”

“Good. Then our plan is working.” He continued to hold her hand even as they got in the car. “So where did you want me to go? What did you want to show me?”

“When I was 9, my cousins and I found this really cool tree but that’s that not the cool part. The best part about it is that it leads to this really cool spot and I only bring the best people there. So you better feel lucky.”

“Oh, I do.” He smiled and listened to her directions. Within minutes, he was pulling up to an odd looking tree. “Is this it?”

“Yes.” y/n happily jumped out of the car and ran to the tree. Matt followed slowly behind her and chuckled to himself as she danced around the field. She never cared what anyone thought of her and that was why Matt admired her so much. He would never admit it, but he just found her incredibly attractive and fascinating. “Come on, Matthew. We haven’t even made it to the best part.”

“Right behind you.” he chuckled and followed her further. When they finally stopped, Matt was staring at one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. It was a hidden waterfall that pooled out into the most mesmerizingly blue body of water. Y/n stood at the edge of the water and looked around.

“It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

“Mesmerizingly so.” He took a step towards her and when she looked up at him, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Wanna take a dip in the water?”

“We’re not exactly dressed for the occasion.” Matt chuckled. “Besides, we promised to meet your dad back at his house.”

“Okay fine. But we should come back tonight. It’s even more magical at night.” She wiggled her eyebrows and headed back towards the car before Matt could give her an answer.

For the rest of the day, Matt got a tour from y/n and a big speech from her dad about their future. When everyone had gone to bed for the night, y/n convinced Matt to sneak out of the house and head back to the waterfall. She was right when she said it was magical at night.

However, Matt couldn’t bring himself to look at the water. He was instead focused on the way y/n had stripped down to almost nothing and was encouraging him to do the same. Not knowing what came over him, Matt quickly rid himself of all his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. Y/n smiled and held his hand.

“Ready do go for a swim?” she winked and pulled him into the water with her before he could say yes. Her impulsiveness was another thing he admired about her. As she swam around, she felt Matt’s gaze on her. “What are you thinking about, Matthew?”

“Just thinking about how cool this place is and how lucky I am that you chose to show it to me. Never have I felt so lucky in my life.”

“Well after today, I feel like you deserve to have a little fun. Hope my dad didn’t scare you too much.”

“It was actually really nice getting to know him. He’s a really good guy and he raised a really great daughter.”

“He’s not around. You don’t have to suck up to him, Matt.” y/n rolled her eyes playfully and splashed a little water at him. “But I do appreciate the compliment.”

Matt splashed her back and his smile only grew when she began to laugh. “You know, I thought I was going to hate this trip but it’s only the first night and I am already enjoying it. Makes me excited for what’s to come.”

“You’re going to absolutely love meeting my cousins. They watch your videos like 24/7 and they’re 12 so when they see you, they’re going to be so excited.”

“Oh, wow. I can’t wait.” Matt smiled and swam cover to where y/n was. “The moon is bright tonight. Really brings out the green in your eyes.”

“Really? I think it makes my eyes look dull.” She tried looking away from him but he grabbed her chin and made her look directly into his eyes.

“Your eyes are so beautiful and I’m trying really hard not to kiss you right now.”

“Same.” y/n’s eyes widened as she spoke. She was not expecting to hear that come out of her mouth ever.

“Well, maybe we should’ve added it to the list of details for the story. Make something up, or something.”

“Or we could get the pesky ‘first kiss’ story out of the way and have something true about our history.”

Just as their lips were about to connect, Matt backed away. “I think we should head back to the house before someone realizes we snuck out.”

“Oh. Okay.” y/n tried to not let her disappointment show in her tone as she swam towards the edge of the water. Matt followed and got dressed silently. The car ride back was slow and silent, not to mention incredibly awkward. Whatever moment they were having at the waterfall was clearly over and didn’t seem like it would happen again anytime soon.

As they slowly climbed back into y/n’s bedroom, there was a heavy tension between them. Matt looked at her and felt so stupid for not kissing her when he had the opportunity.

“I’m sorry about that.” He looked down at his feet.

“It’s okay.” She turned her back to him and sighed. Matt noticed it as an anxiety breath. He wanted to go over and comfort her but he didn’t want to cross any boundaries. “We should get some sleep.”

“Yeah we should.” Matt took a step towards the bed but stopped. “Should I sleep on the floor so it’s not uncomfortable sharing a bed?”

“No. You can sleep up here with me.” y/n turned to look at him and for a second, Matt had hope he hadn’t fucked everything up. “I have enough pillows to put between us. It’ll be fine.” She began to build a small wall down the middle of the bed. Matt watched her carefully. He could tell she didn’t want to do it but they both knew they needed something to keep them from getting too close.

“I know you said it’s okay but I truly am sorry.” Matt slowly climbed onto one side of the bed while y/n got in the other side. “Good night, y/n.”

“Good night, Matthew.”

When Matt woke up the next morning, the pillow wall was completely demolished and y/n was wrapped up in his arms. He smiled and pretended to be asleep when he felt her stir.

Y/n opened one eye and noticed how close she had gotten to Matt overnight. A small smile spread across her face and she couldn’t help but get closer. He was so warm. He subconsciously pulled her closer and when he opened his eyes again, he caught her looking at him.

“Morning.” He smiled. Even though they were both awake and there was no need to be cuddled together, neither of them wanted to let go. It was as if the almost-kiss last night didn’t happen and everything was alright between them.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” y/n smiled and finally rolled out of his grasp. She checked her phone and noticed they had slept later than either of them had wanted. “Crap. We slept in. My family is gonna be here any minute.”

“You’re right.” He slowly turned away as y/n got out of bed and began to change in front of him without thinking. When she was done, she turned towards him and giggled.

“You didn’t have to look away, Matt. It’s not like you haven’t seen me like this before.”

“All those times were accidents. And besides, it’s not polite to watch a lady change.”

“You’ve been acting differently since we started this trip. Are you feeling alright?” y/n approached him and placed her hand on his forehead. Suddenly aware of the close proximity, Matt held his breath. “Well, you’re a little warm but that’s nothing to be concerned about.” y/n dropped her hand to his shoulder. “You should get dressed now.”

“Right.” He stood up awkwardly and grabbed some clothes. Y/n noticed his internal struggle and she went to the door.

“You can get changed in here. I’ll be downstairs.”

“Wait. You can stay. It’ll just take a second.” Matt slowly slipped his sweatpants on and quickly replaced his shirt. As he did so, y/n noticed the way his arms flexed as he raised them above his head. She tried to look away before he noticed but when he smirked, she knew she had been caught. “Like what you see?” he teased.

“Shut up.” y/n rolled her eyes and walked out of the room with Matt following closely behind. They made their way to the kitchen where Crystal was busy preparing stuff for lunch.

“Well, good morning lovebirds.” She smiled. “I was going to wake you earlier but you guys looked so cute all cuddled up in bed. Figured I would let you sleep a little longer.”

“Thanks, Crystal.” y/n smiled and sat on the stool at the island. Matt took the seat next to her and smiled. “What’s for lunch?”

“We’re just going to do a basic barbecue since your cousins are coming over soon. We know how picky they are.”

“And you can never go wrong with a good old fashioned barbecue.” Matt looked up and smiled.

“Yes, exactly.” Crystal grabbed a few things from the fridge and put them on a tray. “Your father is outside working on getting the grill started.”

“I think I’m gonna go talk to him.” Matt stood up and headed outside. Crystal turned to y/n with a wide smile.

“He’s so cute and such a gentleman.”

“Yeah, I suppose he is.” y/n watched the door as if Matt would reappear any second.

“You should’ve heard all the nice things he was saying to your dad last night. That boy is head over heels for you, y/n.”

“It’s not real.” y/n blurted out, quickly turning to Crystal with wide eyes. Crystal herself was just as shocked.

“What are you talking about?”

“The relationship. It’s not real. Not even close.” She sighed. Why was she suddenly so upset?

“I’m still not following, dear.” Crystal had a little bit of a clue as to what was being said but she wasn’t believing any of it.

“I didn’t want to disappoint you guys this year so when dad called and asked if I was bringing someone home for Christmas, I panicked and said yes. Then I was struggling to find someone to agree to come here with me so I got my best friend’s brother to do it.”

“Honey, you could never disappoint us. And honestly, from what I saw, it doesn’t seem so fake to me.”

“Huh?”

“When that boy talks about you, he gets a sparkle in his eye that lights up every feature of his face. I’ve known you for quite some time and I know some of the boys you actually dated and none of them ever looked that way when talking about you. Hell, they never really talked that much about you or knew anything about you. But Matt does. He truly cares for you, sweetheart. And whether it’s actual love or plain admiration, it’s there and it’s real.”

“No. He doesn’t.” y/n sighed. “Please don’t tell dad or anyone else that I told you. Not yet anyway.”

“You got it, honey. My lips are sealed.” Crystal winked just as Matt walked back inside. He slid his arm around y/n’s waist with a smile.

“How are you lovely ladies doing?”

“We’re doing just fine.” Crystal picked up the tray and headed for the door. “Talk to you two later.”

Matt looked down at y/n when Crystal left and noticed she was tense. “hey. You alright, pretty girl?”

“What?” she shook her head and looked down at where his arm was still sitting then looked back up at him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I was just thinking.”

“What about? What’s going on in that pretty little mind, huh?”

“I told Crystal this relationship is fake.” y/n ignored the compliment and focused on something different.

“Oh.” Matt dropped his arm and took a step back. “What did she say about it?”

“She didn’t understand what I was saying at first and then I told her that I only did it to not disappoint her and my dad. She told me that I could never disappoint them. And then she said something I never really thought about until now.”

“What was that?”

“She said that whenever you were talking about me last night, your eyes sparkled and lit up every feature of your face. She then told me that, even though the relationship is fake, there’s some real feelings going on.” y/n took a second to glance up at Matt, catching how he was already staring at her. “So, I need to know. Is she telling the truth? Do you have any feelings for me?”

“Um…about that. I, uh-“

Matt was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. As y/n went to answer it, he let out a sigh of relief. Seconds later, he was face to face with y/n and some of her cousins. The younger girls began to squeal as they approached him.

“I can’t believe that our y/n is dating a Sturniolo triplet. This is absolutely insane.” The little blonde girl hugged him and he smiled, instantly hugging her back. The boy looked at him and smirked.

“Don’t mind her. She’s been watching your videos for years.”

“It’s perfectly fine. I love meeting fans.” He looked at y/n and smiled.

“Brooke, you can let him go now.” the young boy chuckled and tried to pry his sister off of Matt to no avail.

“But Jackson, I have so much to ask him.”

“Why don’t we let him breathe for a minute before you attack with the questions?” Jackson finally pulled his little sister off and smiled.

“You alright, Matt?” y/n offered him a small smile, which he gladly returned.

“Yeah.” He chuckled and looked at Brooke. “What questions do you have for me?”

“Oh, so many.” Brooke grabbed Matt’s hand and dragged him into the living room. Y/n was about to follow but Jackson stopped her.

“I don’t think you’re going to get very much time with Matt while we’re here.” He chuckled and y/n glanced at the doorway.

“That’s okay. I get plenty of time with him any other day. Plus, he’s really good with kids so this is actually really heartwarming to watch.” y/n walked into the living room and took a seat next to Matt. He was quick to put his arm around her as he listened intently to Brooke’s questions and answered what he could.

They were like that for another hour before the rest of the family arrived. Matt was introduced to everyone while Brooke and a few more cousins stuck to his side. By the time they were all called outside to eat, Matt looked almost exhausted from answering all the questions but he smiled through it all.

While the kids all hurried out to the backyard, Matt and y/n hung back in the kitchen.

“I told you that you were going to be bombarded with questions.”

“That’s alright. I really don’t mind. Your family is amazing.”

“I know they are.” y/n smiled and looked at him. Her smile started fading when she remembered their conversation from before everyone arrived. “Can we talk later?”

“Yeah, of course.” Matt instinctively placed a kiss on the top of her head and went outside, leaving y/n to wonder what just happened.

Later that night, y/n and Matt were back in their hotel room, away from the chaos that was her family. Matt was on his bed while y/n was searching through her suitcase for something.

“What did you want to talk about?” Matt asked, remembering the conversation. He knew what she wanted to talk about but he needed her to ask the question again.

“Honestly, I don’t remember. Maybe I’ll think of it again and ask you in the morning. Oh, that reminds me. Christmas dinner is taking place at my dad’s house around 2 but I told him and Crystal that we’d be there around 10, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah that works.” Matt pulled the covers over him and looked at her. He knew she didn’t really forget the question but he didn’t want to bring it up again, in fear of making things more awkward than they already were. Instead, he plugged his phone in and smiled. “Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight.” She headed to the bathroom and Matt slowly fell asleep.

The next morning while they were at her dad’s house, Crystal pulled Matt aside for a ‘talk’ that wasn’t really a talk.

“Look, I know the relationship is fake and everything and y/n may never admit this but there’s clearly something real between you two. I know it and maybe you know it too so if you truly do love her, you need to tell her before she slips away from you and ends up with someone else. And believe me when I say this, none of the other boys she has dated have ever made her smile the way you do, or even talked about her like you do. So please, for the sake of everyone’s sanity, just tell her how you feel.”

Matt went to respond but she was gone before he could blink. He found y/n talking with Brooke and Jackson so he decided to join them. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah sure.” She followed him into the kitchen and watched him lean against the counter. “What’s up, Matty bear?”

“I just, uh, had a talk with Crystal. Well it was more like she talked to me then disappeared.” He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“What exactly did she say?” y/n raised her eyebrow and subconsciously leaned closer to hear what he was about to say.

“She said that-“

“Everyone, can you please come into the living room?” y/n’s dad called out to everyone in the house. Everyone gathered in the living room and y/n watched her dad pull out a ring and propose to Crystal. Matt didn’t pay attention to the whole speech. His focus was on y/n’s reaction. When Crystal said yes, y/n’s eyes welled up with tears and she hugged her dad and Crystal tightly. She noticed Matt watching her and pulled him into the hug as well. Soon enough, everyone was joining in. It was a joyous celebration.

At the dinner table an hour later, y/n’s leg bounced a little more than normal. Matt noticed and he held her hand underneath the table, hoping to calm her down. It worked and she thanked him by squeezing his hand tightly. They were both silent about what they each knew and neither one of them wanted to cross the friendship line, in fear of screwing up possibly the best relationship either of them ever had.

By the time everyone was leaving, y/n found herself talking with Brooke and Jackson again while Matt watched silently.

“You guys are so cute together.” Brooke gushed. “Matt is so cute. OH my goodness. I forgot to ask you how it feels to be dating THE Matthew Sturniolo.”

“It feels different. Better than anything I’ve experienced before. He’s a great guy.” y/n smiled down at Brooke.

“So, do you love him?” Jackson questioned, cocking an eyebrow in anticipation.

“Yeah. Of course. He’s my best friend.” y/n smiled in Matt’s direction. “He’s the best thing that has ever happened to me, honestly. And he treats me so good.”

“Good. Because you’re my favorite cousin and I would hate to find out he hasn’t been treating you well.” Jackson hugged her and followed the rest of his family out the door. Y/n turned to Matt and smiled. As she approached him, he had a big smile on his face.

“What’s up, Mr. Sturniolo? What’s got you so smiley tonight?”

“Your family is absolutely amazing.”

“I agree.” She leaned against the opposite wall in the doorway. “What did you think of my dad proposing to Crystal?”

“I didn’t really hear the speech. Honestly, I was completely zoned out and staring at you the entire time, just watching your reaction.”

“Why?” she was interested to know. It could be the answer she had been looking for since yesterday afternoon.

“It was a beautiful moment. Just had to see your reaction.” He shrugged. “Besides, in a crowded room, my eyes always find you.”

“Oh.” y/n smiled.

“I didn’t get to give you my present!” he exclaimed suddenly, grabbing her hand and dragging her up to her bedroom. He pulled out a box and handed it to her. “M-merry Christmas.”

Y/n opened the box and nearly sobbed at the beautiful necklace before her. She had been wanting this specific necklace for the last 6 months but whenever she went to buy it herself, they happened to be sold out. She never told anyone so how did Matt know and how did he suddenly end up with one?

Matt took the necklace out of the box and moved her hair to the side so he could place it around her neck. As she turned back towards him, her hand went up to play with the charm.

“How did you know?” she looked up into his eyes.

“I saw the way you looked at it that one time we passed it at the store. While you went to go with Chris to that one store, I went back to buy it for you. I figured you would want something that was as beautiful as you.” he moved a piece of hair out of her face and she subconsciously leaned into his touch before she knew what she was doing. But just as fast as that happened, she pulled away just as fast.

“Matt, don’t do this. Please?”

“Do what? Listen to Crystal?”

“What did she tell you to do?” y/n took a step back but Matt walked closer.

“She told me to tell you how I felt or risk losing you to someone else.” He sighed “Look, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what, Matt?” y/n looked down at her feet.

“I should’ve just fucking kissed you at the damn waterfall. It’s been eating me up inside that I skipped over possibly one of the greatest opportunities of my life because I didn’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Matt stepped back and ran his hands through his hair anxiously. “Crystal was right, y/n. I do have feelings for you. I have for so damn long and that was why I didn’t initially want to come on this trip with you. I was afraid. Afraid I was going to fuck something up and turns out, it’s exactly what I’m doing. I could tell how upset you were when we left the waterfall that night. And that seriously fucking crushed me. Like, how could I be so damn stupid?” he looked at her. and sighed. “Please tell me I didn’t mess our friendship up by completely backing out of that kiss.”

“Matt, take a breath. Just relax.” y/n rubbed his arm up and down before squeezing his hand. “You didn’t mess anything up. I am right here and I am always going to be right here. You could yell at me and call me every possible name you could think of and I would still love you. Because you’re my best friend and that love stretches beyond any human comprehension. You stand out from every single person I know and that makes me love you so much more. And every single detail we came up with for our ‘relationship’ suddenly seems incredibly true. Yeah, maybe you fell in love with me first but I can guarantee that this love right here,” she gestured between them and stepped impossibly closer. “this love is real. As real as you and me, Matt. So no. You didn’t screw up by backing out of the kiss. You just delayed the most perfect moment between us because now, it won’t be a kiss that was just random. It’s going to mean something.”

“What kiss?” Matt questioned, his eyes flicking down to her lips before going back up. Before he had time to register what was going on, she grabbed his face gently and placed her lips on his. Her hands wrapped around the back of his neck while his gripped her waist tightly, as if at any moment, she would slip away like Crystal said. But he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Not anytime soon.

Y/n was the first to break the kiss but her arms stayed around his neck while her fingers danced delicately on the little hairs that were there.

“I know we’re all the way in Florida right now but a part of me keeps thinking that one of your brothers is gonna come bursting through that door to ruin our moment.”

And as if on cue, Matt’s phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and showed the screen to y/n. She laughed when she saw Chris’ face pop up.

“Merry Christmas, bitches. How was your day?” he smirked, somehow knowing that he interrupted an intimate moment. “How’s Miami?”

“It’s great here. Don’t have to put up with you idiots in person.” Matt chuckled and held y/n close.

“I was just calling to wish you both a Merry Christmas but I’m sensing that I interrupted a moment so I’m gonna go before the Mattitude kicks in. Buh-bye.” He abruptly ended the call and Matt shoved his phone back into his pocket.

“Now where were we?” he smirked and kissed y/n again.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @carolinasamattgirl

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader

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pompadourpink · 1 month

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hi ive always wanted to learn french but i dont have a lot of time and not really discipline either what is your advice? thank you, love your blog

Hello,

About the time: you don't need that much. Fifteen minutes every day is better than five hours once a year.

About the discipline: you don't need that much if you know why you're here. Make a list of small goals and try to hit one every week (read an article about fashion, translate a chapter of your favourite children's book, watch a Bluey episode, write a diary entry). Have a bigger one, like chatting with natives when you visit in Year X, get a picture of the city you're going to, frame it, put it up.

If feasible, book me! If you are a student, I take 25 euros (or US$27 or £21) an hour - and if your currency makes it hard, I'm always open to discussion! I have been blogging since 2016 so reading the blog and exploring tags will help but having someone experienced signal the right direction is very valuable to avoid learning blindly or memorising the wrong rule or pronunciation, etc.

What fifteen minutes look like:

1/ Re-read what you read yesterday, study your notes: read them out lout (la chaise - the chair), repeat them while looking away, write them down again, hide one half then the other, from top to bottom then from bottom to top. I recommend Notion for this, handwritten notes get messy.

Do an activity: the Linguno A1 crossword in level, theme and present conjugation (move up when you get bored) is great. When you get better, you can write down what you did yesterday or record yourself summarising something out.

Reading: anything you like as long as it's fun, whether it is a Reddit post, a newspaper article, your daily horoscope, or a few pages from a children's book or comic.

I understand that a lot of reading may seem like a narrow way to learn but I have been doing this job for almost four and a half years and one thing is clear: trying to simultaneously learn every aspect of another language, let along one that has very little to do with your own, is the best way to get discouraged.

Reading will get you to learn vocabulary, understand how syntax word, memorise conjugation, get you an idea of when to use what tense, which will then make your life easy when you start listening, speaking, or writing, because you know how the choreography goes, you just need a minute to put your feet down.

Hope this helps and good luck! x

#ask #practicing

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deusvervewrites · 7 months

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The First Line

A lot of people out there will tell you that the first line of a novel is the most important. I've seen the wisdom that the first line must grab the readers attention, be some kind of a "hook" to draw them in deeper, or to tonally reflect the main themes. That the first line needs to throw the reader into the thick of it!

But how true is that really? It's been nagging me for a while now as someone who has started more fics than I've completed.

Out of curiosity, I grabbed a handful of my favorite novels and compiled their first lines.

"There are many legends about my mother." Daughter of the Moon Goddess, Sue Lynn Tan

This line doesn't really establish much about the plot of this book. Not the narrator's name, goal, conflict, or even the setting. We can make some inferences from the existence of legends around someone, but 'legendary' only narrows anything down because of the book's title. It is, however, indicative of the narration style and the novel's prose.

"Mary Jekyll stared down at her mother's coffin." The Strange Case of the Alchemist's Daughter, Theodora Cross

This line puts us right into a scene. Some real In Medias Res. Except... it's not really an action scene. It's a somber affair. And from Mary's staring, it's safe to say she has some heavy thoughts on the matter.

We can also make some assumptions from the wording choice. Looking down at the coffin suggests that she is standing over it, so we know at once this takes place during the funeral.

Interestingly--and I'm going to break my soft rule of not addressing the rest of the text here--this line does not allude to the novel's framing device.

"The temperature of the room dropped fast." Bartimaeus: The Amulet of Samarkand, Jonathan Stroud

This is another opening that's setting a scene instead of trying to introduce us to the cast or conflict, or even to the setting. Why is it getting colder? We can infer from the fact that the temperature is dropping fast that this probably isn't a good thing or at least not a normal thing.

"I've seen Steelheart bleed." Steelheart, Brandon Sanderson

This line fascinates me. It says a lot and, at the same time, very little. We know that someone named Steelheart exists, obviously. However, the narrator is giving gravitas to the sight of them bleeding. So we've already learned that Steelheart doesn't bleed very often, and seeing it was worth remembering. But who Steelheart is and why the narrator cares? Nothing in this line indicates that.

"Kendra stared out the side window of the SUV, watching foliage blur past." Fablehaven, Brandon Mull

I think this is the most relatable opening line I have listed here, since I can instantly in my mind picture the expression on Kendra's face knowing nothing else about her, or where she's going. We can guess she's probably not happy to be going there since she's staring out the window with what I would assume to be boredom. That's some conflict there. But, like, extremely minor conflict.

"The tired old carriage, pulled by two tired old horses, rumbled onto the wharf, its creaky wheels bumpety-bumping on the uneven planks, waking Peter from his restless slumber." Peter and the Starcatchers, Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson

Well this sentence rambled on a bit didn't it? But it's very evocative. It tells us very little about the story (beyond Peter's name) but it sets the scene beautifully. Not only is it evocative of the scenery, but the time period (from the horse-drawn carriage) and the tone as well. We also know that Peter wasn't sleeping very well, which indicates that he's either anxious about something or that sleeping in this carriage wasn't very easy. Or both.

"In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit." J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

This is the kind of line that would get me murdered by a lot of writing advice that I've seen over the years. This line tells you next to nothing, not even whether or not its weird for hobbits to live in holes. What this line does do is ease us into the narration style that Tolkien employs, which is generally slow and descriptive.

Okay...?

So what was the point of all of that?

Well, this experiment has solidified my opinion on something. As I said, I've been having thoughts about opening lines, but I think that the actual first line of the book is not as important as the first scene of the book. None of these lines out of context are that good. Sure, The Hobbit is iconic, but that's not because that line itself is phenomenal. It's practically "Once Upon A Time."

But it works for the scene.

The first scene is far more interesting to me than the first line. I'm not so impatient that if the first line fails to captivate me I'll toss the book aside. And I know that's true for other people because H. Bomberguy posted a four-hour video on plagiarism and we all watched it.

What this means, I think, is that we don't need to treat our audience as if we're in an arms race against their dwindling attention spans as if we'll lose them forever to TikTok if the first sentence isn't the pinnacle of literature.

People will give a work a chance. That's what the summary is for; to tell people if they'll like it so they can know to give it a try.

If you were afraid to write, or to share your writing, because you didn't think the first line was good enough... I don't think that matters. I think that people won't hate it. Won't turn up their noses in disgust.

#writing advice

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stargirlwritingjourney · 6 months

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Running Wild

Fandom: Descendants

Pairing: Jay/Carlos de Vil

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warning/Tag(s): Graphic Description of Violence, Forbidden Love

Summary: What if Carlos had never been taken in by the core four, instead left to squalor for a few years longer before Uma discovered him? Taken in by the pirates of the Isle, chains of events are altered and certain VKs are left to run wild for a few years unaffiliated before being swooped up and shipped over to Auradon. In saying this, certain friendships--maybe even relationships--are left forbidden.

Event(s): @fandom-free-bingo with 'mutual pining' | @multifandom-flash with Beehive: 'forbidden friendship' and Double Flash with 'after action patch-up' | @eclipsingbingo with 'slammed into a wall'

Can be read here

Carlos whirled through the streets of the Isle, never trying to stay in one spot for too long. If living on the Isle had taught him one thing, it was either stand out and make sure everyone knew you were there so they would cower, or blend into the crowd as much as you possibly could until you could get back to your crew and have safety in numbers.

So that was exactly what Carlos was doing, hiding within the crowd as he made his way from his mother’s manor to the other side of the Isle with hurried steps so no one had the chance to recognise him where Ursula’s fish and chip store was located.

Though his name held weight with it, both from the insanity his mother had dissolved into and the recent growth in Uma’s name, and therefore his own. Though it had never been on his list of goals to be a recognisable figure on the Isle, rather sticking to the shadows as much as possible as he got by, he couldn’t say it was terrible to have an extra few seconds of hesitation when people ran into him and realised who he was. That didn’t mean he liked to hang around when he didn’t have the comfort of his allies.

He had become quite skilled at avoiding unwanted eyes even though everything about his presence seemed to scream for them. From his pearly white hair to the red, black and white leather jacket he wore, in most cases, you would expect Carlos to stick out, but when on an Isle where almost every second person was wearing something similar it became easier.

So Carlos believed that the surprise he felt as he was yanked from the street by the scruff of his jacket and pulled into one of the many backstreets was warranted, as well as the humiliating yelp that he let slip. Blind as to who had grabbed onto him, Carlos flailed his limbs around, trying to both hit his attacker and dislodge himself from their grip at the same time. It seemed nothing Carlos did work though as he was pulled further into the alleyway with only a grunt being pulled from the person who had dragged him.

It was only when a wickedly familiar laugh ran out around him, bouncing off the walls as Carlos was flipped around, his eyes landing on Harry Hook moments before he was slammed back, going crashing into the wall behind him as the air was knocked out of him and his vision went foggy for a few short moments.

“What the hell, Harry?” Carlos spluttered once he was able to suck a proper breath of air into his lungs, his brows narrowing down into a glare as he did so. In the few years that Carlos had been aligned with Harry, he had become accustomed to his out-of-pocket actions, all of which were rough and without much warning, but that didn’t mean he favoured any of them.

“Don’t act so surprised, Pup,” The nickname was whipped at him with a hiss, making him flinch back at the words. His reaction seemed to pull another laugh from Harry’s lips, knowing all the right ways on how to get under Carlos’ skin. Pulling Carlos from the wall and tucking him into his side with an arm hooked over his shoulders, Harry began to lead them in a new direction, helping them weave their way to whatever end destination Harry had in mind. “Uma wanted yer now and yer were takin’ too long to get yer boney arse over to the fish an’ chip shop. Someone had to come and get yer.”

“I was literally five minutes away. You’ve probably wasted more time going out of your way to do all this,” Carlos bit out, trying and failing to shoulder his side into Harry’s, the taller and bulkier simply smiling sharkishly down at him for his attempt. Though the two of them had come to tolerate one another, it didn’t mean Carlos could put up with him most days. “What’s so important anyway? Normally Uma would just scoff at me if I was late.”

“She wants the lot of us to go onto little ol’ Mal’s territory and stir up some trouble,” A bark of laughter shot out of Harry, echoing off the walls as if he were a hyena. It only worsened when he got a glance at Carlos’ face. “Don’t give me that look. We aren’t goin’ to kill anyone, just lightly wound. Besides, you’ll hopefully get to just sit pretty for us since Jay will be there.”

“What does Jay have anything to do with me being there,” Carlos grumbled, already feeling his face heat.

“Because that boy seems to be infatuated with yer,” There was an obvious amount of disgust in Harry’s words as he spoke, the ‘infatuation’ between the two bringing up vile into the back of Harry’s throat, the very idea of it being almost blasphemous. “Yer just have to bat yer eye and he’ll be rendered useless for a few minutes. Now come on, Gil and the others are goin’ to meet us there.”

Carlos wanted to say more, object to his words about Jay and even his presence at whatever this clash was meant to be, but instead swallowed his words and allowed Harry to pull him along. The best-case scenario was they didn’t run into Mal and her crew, or he was able to slip away when they did, hopefully, if Harry’s words were true, Jay would let him do so easily. Worst-case scenario Carlos was forced to fight and hopefully not get his arse kicked too much.

The closer the two of them got, the more Carlos doubted anything good would come from this. When they met up with Gil and some more of Uma’s crew it only solidified Carlos’ worse hopes.

It didn’t take long to locate Mal, Jay and Evie, the three of them with some kids their age that Carlos hadn’t seen before, a rare occasion due to how small the Isle was. He was sure if he had learnt their names he would recognise them more easily.

He didn’t pay attention to the words spoken between the two groups, his focus set on slipping away until his eyes landed on Jay. It seemed he had been staring at him since Carlos had first arrived since he seemed shocked that their eyes had finally met, his widening a little bit more. Taking him in quickly, Carlos seemed to notice every minor detail that made Jay up, seemed to not be able to pull his eyes away until someone’s fist came knocking into his arm, telling him to get ready.

That easily tore his eyes away, sending Carlos whirling back as he got prepared to back away. He didn’t mind if Jay noticed since he seemed to always have his eyes on him. It was the rest of the people he was met with that mattered. If someone on Mal’s side noticed him trying to dip out then they would surely point him out or try to go after him. If Harry or someone in Uma’s crew noticed they would either pull him back in or would make him pay for it later. Sneaking away had started to become more of a challenge than it had once been.

But as the VKs started getting fired up, each side only taunting the other more and getting ready to bring the worst out of one another, Carlos used this opportunity to slip away, making his moves quick and dashing as he slunk back, disappearing just before everything had gone to shit.

Slipping in between buildings and reaching for a fire escape that was haphazardly attached to the brick wall, Carlos had all of seventeen seconds before two large hands were gripping his shoulders. A hiss was the first thing that escaped his lips as he tried craning his shoulder away from the hold as fingers dug into some newly arising bruises thanks to Harry. It only occurred to him that he should try and figure out who had grabbed him when both hands had quickly vanished, reattaching themselves lower and around his waist.

“What are you-” Carlos cut himself off as he turned around, his eyes meeting with Jay’s almost instantly. Having to crane his neck back to meet his face, Carlos couldn’t help but stare as he felt the warmth from Jay’s hands spread across his midsection, almost burning. In a breathless whisper, Carlos said, “Jay.”

“Carlos,” Jay greeted with a nod. It looked as if his lips wanted to curve upwards but Jay had to stop himself. His hands didn’t leave their perch even as Carlos stared at him with questioning eyes. Jay should be worried that he was this close to Carlos since he was part of Uma’s crew, but he couldn’t help but not feel the slightest bit threatened as he stared into Carlos’ eyes. “Funny seeing you here. I thought you tended to keep your nose out of turf wars.”

“Normally I would,” Carlos agreed, his voice slightly spooked from the proximity, though he did nothing to change it. “You just happened to catch me at a bad time.”

“Really?” Jay asked, earning a hum in return. The white-haired boy seemed to almost lean into him as they stood close, breathing in each other's space.

Jay had so much he wanted to say, words waiting to spill out of him as they burst at the seams. For someone he should’ve hated, Jay couldn’t help but be interested in the shorter stray. At every opportunity he would steal glances at him in the crowd, would purposely not start anything just so he could attempt to steal some moments with him, most of which didn’t work out.

He wanted to say more to Carlos but didn’t have the opportunity as some imploding voices rang out around them, silencing him.

“Where’s Carlos?”

“He must have gone after Jay since that meathead went missing.”

“If that’s the case then I’m sure we’re going to hear some very entertainin’ stories from the Pup when he gets back.”

Harry’s voice was easily recognisable, making Jay’s teeth grind together. They seemed to have a similar effect on Carlos as he took some hurried steps back, both hiding from the voice even though they were out of sight and dislodging him from Jay’s light hold.

“I have to go,” The words rushed out of Carlos as he began looking for an escape room. Jay couldn’t help but wish he would stay longer. Once his eyes locked on a way out, he almost began running immediately, though he took a few seconds to turn to Jay, a half smile that looked both a little too strained but genuine. Carlos said before racing off, not waiting for Jay’s response, “I’ll see you around Jay. It was nice seeing you.”

“Bye Carlos,” Jay couldn’t help but whisper, a smile splitting across his face as he did so.

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hiemaldesirae · 3 months

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picked up this book called 'murder your employee: the mcmasters guide to homicide vol 1' from my local bookstore and . Hmmm. am i hearing murder academy radiostatic au... (<- delusional)

quick rundown of the books setting (time period vaguely 1950s, before 1962 at the latest) is that there's this murder academy (i say that but its closer to a uni than a boarding school which is typically what i think of when i read academy) open to applicants of all ages to train their students to murder. the admissions fee is an extremely high price, but regular people can enter in via sponsorships (like scholarships, sort of, but its more like a specific rich person sponsoring the candidate). the students don't operate on a regular year by year schedule because 1) no one knows where the school is and thus cannot always tell even what season it is much less the month 2) students are informed of their graduation basically the day of, when the faculty decides theyre ready to leave and complete their thesis project (AKA the murder). anyway its a very fun book and so of course i had to be insane about its premise

For what it was worth, Alastor hadn't meant at all to end up studying at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners.

Which, in fairness, was just a fancier way of saying that he hadn't meant to get caught.

It had been a situation entirely out of his control. For whatever reason, that night, the swamp had been especially difficult to navigate- even alone, much less with a bloodied and battered body slung over his shoulder, he's quite certain it would have been a struggle to work his way around the place. And while that had never been a problem the few dozen or so times he'd made the trek before (granted, they were without the actual body in his hands, but it didn't make much of a difference when he'd been carrying heavy sacks of sand to offset the weight), there was an unfortunate caveat in his plan.

He hadn't banked on being seen and followed by a truly infuriating pair of 'detectives' (though surely whatever idea they'd held of a detective was truly and fully siphoned from one of those insipid moving pictures his dear Mimzy was ever so obsessed with), and he hadn't expected to be offered a spot as a student at this... interesting facility.

The smiley man sitting in front of him nods emphatically as Alastor finishes his little cajoling speech. The nametag on his black and red suitjacket reads Dean Morningstar, and a half-poured cup of brandy sits on the side of his table. Alastor eyes the alcohol with interest, if only because looking anywhere else in the room might make him lose composure and attack the bothersome man sitting across from him.

"So, then... Mr. Hartfelt, is it true that your next target was to be your father?"

Alastor narrows his eyes at the dean. The room's atmosphere seems to drop as he holds his gaze, both of them wearing smiles that convey vastly different emotions. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to."

Of course, such a lousy comeback isn't tantamount to a proper argument (unless you're the type who enjoys messing with people, which Alastor is in all moments except this one) and the dean smiles when he realizes Alastor's slip up.

"See, you have an extremely generous patron backing you on your goal... not only to take down your father, who, by the way, seems to owe you quite a lot, considering your less than stellar upbringing and childhood, so good luck with that one, but also in relation to the other bodies that have been found half-submerged in the swamp." The little devil smiles merrily. "Sorry about that one, by the way. But we had to be sure you were a good candidate for our very highly revered course list. I mean... your sponsor is paying a lot of money to see you succeed, so... we had to be pretty thorough. Again, sorry, but it's just standard protocol."

Alastor clenches his jaw, feeling his eye twitch. He'd more or less tuned out whatever else Dean Morningstar had said after he admitted to resurfacing the already weeks old bodies in the swamp- Alastor's very first targets- as a means of... assessing him, apparently. "So you're the reason the bodies have started turning up in the bayou...?"

"Not entirely," Dean Morningstar shrugs, providing no further context. "In any case, this is sort-of a caught with pants down situation, I think. You don't have many options, Mr. Hartfelt. Either you stay as a student, or we let the truth out- and let your mother know first, before getting rid of you."

He grins sunnily at Alastor. "What will it be, young man?"

So, that was that.

Following that conversation (blackmailing session) Alastor finds himself being the unwitting recipient of a campus guide by the dean himself, who, despite his short stature and seemingly accomodating personality, had already managed to make himself an enemy in the form of one (1) incredibly vexed young radio host slash serial killer in the making.

"...And that's the Music Hall, where my vice-dean and most beloved wife holds her concerts and lectures on Murder, as a Fine Arts- you may notice the ingenious references there to one Mr. Thomas De Quincey, the famed opium eater of the 1800s London..." Alastor turns a blind eye to the dean as the man just kept on talking, choosing instead to focus on the surroundings instead of the urge to strangle the annoyance beside him.

The trip to the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners- a mouthful and an incredibly unnecessary one at that- had been less a trip to a school and more like a kidnapping, in which Alastor had been more or less blackmailed into going with the two detectives who'd found him in the bayou that day and then drugged to high hell from some sort of tampered liquor, then promptly deposited in front of the school gates and almost fed broken glass twice before nearly being poisoned and then having to sit through another blackmailing session with the Dean (the guy who'd tried to poison him in the first place). So... all in all, a rather unpleasant experience on his end.

Still, the scenery almost made up for it.

The campus was almost the size of his town back home, and towering gothic buildings from before his time populated the grounds. Signs in different languages were littered around the campus grounds, and exotic foliage grew in just the right places to make the patchwork of cobbled streets and oddly vintage buildings look uniform.

"Oh, Vox! How are you this afternoon?"

Alastor's attention is drawn back to the dean as the man greets a young man dressed in formal evening attire, complete with a pocket square boutonniere and sleek black gloves. The man in question has short-ish black hair, tied back into a small ponytail with a deep blue ribbon, and two striking eyes: one a glassy larimar blue and the other the deep brown of axinite gems. Alastor finds himself regarding the other while he and the dean make simple conversation. Something about him strikes him as familiar, though he can't quite put a finger on it exactly. "Going to the Music Hall, I presume?"

"That would be correct, Sir," Vox inclines his head respectfully. "Professor Leviathan asked us to dress for the occasion, since we would be doing another ballroom class."

"Ballroom class?" Alastor raises an eyebrow, and the man startles, seemingly not having noticed he was there. Rather inept for an assassin-to-be, Alastor frowns. Were these really the sorts of students they were training? Pretty-faced civilians knowing nothing of killing, who dressed up in evening gather for afternoon classes?

"A-ah, yes..." Vox looks off to the side, seemingly nervous. His cheeks redden slightly, like a child caught in the act of stealing candy. "Uh. You're new here, right? I haven't seen you around before..."

"He is," Dean Morningstar confirms, beaming. "Just arrived this morning, with a very generous sponsor backing him. In fact, he's going to be rooming at Pride House because of the sponsor!"

"Oh, is that so?"

Vox's easy confidence seems to come back to him as he turns to Alastor, seemingly mollified by the Dean's interference. Something inside of Alastor wants to see the man nervous again, if only because the uneasy approach of the man with the gemstone eyes reminded him of the shaky-footed does he would fake out during hunts. "Well, in that case, we might be roommates. It's nice to meet you, Mister...?"

"Hartfelt. Alastor Hartfelt," Dean Morningstar says before Alastor can introduce himself, smiling even when Alastor directs a glare at the man. "He's quite the upstart, I'll have you know- Hell, I think he may have set more fires on his first day here than you did!"

Vox chuckles awkwardly, a reaction that has Alastor's eyebrows raising with curiosity. "Well, I'd sure hope not. I really wouldn't want to cause Professor Leviathan any more trouble than we already have. He deserves a bit of a break from troublemakers like us, I'd say."

While Alastor is... okay, not really all that sure what exactly Dean Morningstar was referring to with 'fires started'- in his case, they were all non literal, considering his first arrival here had ended with him on the wrong end of a shotgun (its irony was not lost to him now, three hours later and standing in the middle of what looked to be a town square plucked straight out of Vienna's bustling populace despite the fact that they were in a location completely unknown to the rest of the world)... but whatever this man had done... it intrigued him, especially given Vox's reaction to it.

"Anyway..." Vox smiles once more, inclining his head in a bow. "I really do have to get going now. If I don't, I'm afraid I may be late, and Professor Asmodeus always picks on the latecomers to answer questions first."

"Ah, we won't keep you any longer, then," Dean Morningstar agrees genially. "Have a good afternoon, Mister Vanhal!"

"You too, Dean Morningstar, Mister Hartfelt," Vox bows once more, before turning off and heading in the direction of the Music Hall. Alastor regards the other man's retreating silhouette carefully.

"Is there something you want to say, young man?" Dean Morningstar snaps him out of his reverie, covering the faint smirk on his face with a gloved hand.

While Alastor wishes he could simply meet the other with simple derision, there is a question he had been meaning to ask. "What was the evening get up for?"

Dean Morningstar shrugs, but there's a glint of something Alastor doesn't quite like in his eyes. "Why don't you go and ask Vox yourself, if you're so interested?"

"...I'm surprised your staff haven't tried to murder you yet," Alastor responds shortly. He's much too tired and frustrated to entertain the man, and- well, frankly put, his mind is a little distracted at the moment at the thought of the man with the mismatched eyes.

Dean Morningstar laughs. "They're certainly welcome to try, as are you. After all, you're now a student of the Hazbin Instution for Homicide Practitioners- and we pride ourselves on our hands-on, engaging curriculum. Hopefully, your sponsor finds what they're looking for by sending you here."

"Hopefully," Alastor agrees. After all, there's nothing else to say: from here on out, it seems to be do or die.

Student Report written with input and conference from Dean Lucifer Morningstar

Student: Alastor Hartfelt, 29 years old, Sponsor

Sponsor: [REDACTED]

To the esteemed and generous sponsor of one Mister Alastor Hartfelt,

Enclosed is a report of your charge's first day at our esteemed institution. Please dispose of this report as soon as you are finished reading it for privacy insurances. We at the Hazbin Institution for Homicide Practitioners thank you for your interest and your patronage.

Sincerely, Dean Lucifer Morningstar.

#oops i got a bit carried away with this one #ill be honest i originally noticed the book because it sounded like something mk would like #and then i had to purchase it because the cashier didnt have any change for me when i was purchasing the 7 husbands of evelyn hugo . So.#i mean i dont regret it i guess ill just wait for the next volume #btw for anyone interested in why vox dressed in evening wear is for the ballroom dancing occasion + gloves can be used to hide prints #its a rule in the book to always be dressed for the occasion. or well not a rule but like . a general guide for when youre committing murde #also im duly aware of the fact that they call it deleting and not murdering but thats just soooo fucking stupid im not calling it deleting #i am also aware of the fact fhat they are not training serial killers at mcmasters but this is hazbin and u know what #they Can train serial killers. as a treat #ran rambles #radiostatic #hazbin hotel #chai writes #the hazbin institution for homicide practitioners

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dreamsinarcadia · 8 months

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Mistletoe

In which Heungmin and his best friend find themselves under the mistletoe over the years (and he’s pretty much to blame for it)

pairing: sonny x bestfriend!reader

warning: fluff fluff fluff

Part 2 ➡️

8 years old

“Heungmin,” she ground out with barely concealed annoyance. “Give it back.”

The wishlist that had been oh so carefully curated was currently in the grubby hands of the bane of her existence - the neighborhood’s spawn of satan himself, Son Heungmin.

Okay, maybe that was a little unfair. But she was certain that the boy had made it his life’s purpose to grate her nerves from the moment they had met.

“I think the address is wrong,” he muttered, scanning the paper with narrowed eyes. “Doesn’t Santa live in the South Pole?”

“It’s the North Pole!” she snapped, reaching forward to try and snatch it from his grasp. The entirety of her morning had been spent scribbling furiously in the garden, ignoring her father’s witty comment about smoke practically pouring from her ears. There was no room for error - she would be competing with countless other children for a place in Santa’s list! This had to be perfect.

Of course, perfection was hard to achieve with Heungmin looming over like a storm cloud waiting to unleash a torrential downpour on her. Not to mention his cheeky smile almost sent her over the edge. Clearly he’d accomplished his task of annoying her for the day.

Ambling forward as smoothly as he could (a difficult task when wrapped in dozens of layers upon the insistence of his mother), he plopped down beside her and peered down at the list again.

“A book?” he balked. “Of all the things you could ask for, a book?” He’d grown to hate her newfound hobby of reading books. Ever since the new library had opened in their town, she’d been holed up between shelves of pristine books for hours on end. Heungmin wasn’t exactly fond of the new-found silence he'd become accustomed to; he always looked forward to her sarcastic commentary that always accompanied weekend night football. He missed having someone to stand in the unforgiving winter cold, clad in goalkeeper gloves (her mother’s oven mitts), and endure goal after goal as he practiced his penalty kicks and headers.

“Give it back!”

"No, I don’t think I will," he sang merrily, legs carrying him out of the porch and into the warmth of her home, dashing down the hallway up the staircase, narrowly missing a near collision with the family cat sprawled on one of the steps. He was much faster than she was and he knew it. He was faster than everyone in their grade, his height granting him an entirely unfair advantage over their peers.

"Heungmin, I’m telling your mother!" She warned as he skidded to a halt on the landing, arm practically stretched up to the heavens with her letter to Santa firmly grasped in his hand. With his other hand, he begun to rummage around in his pocket for something.

“Just give it back,” she whined pitifully, realising that her previous threats just fell on deaf ears. From beside him, she tried in vain to jump up and grab the letter from between his stupid fingers.

Grinning widely, Heungmin quickly pulled the letter away from her to hide it behind his back and replaced it with whatever he had managed to finally find in his pocket. “For the price of one kiss, you can have it back,” he offered with a cheeky smile, bringing a basil sprig between their heads.

She looked up at it, physically unable to hold back the eye roll. She’d seen plenty of adults on television sharing an intimate moment below a certain type of greenery during the holiday season. While it was a lovely tradition, it required a specific kind of a leathery-leaved plant. “That’s not even mistletoe.”

“You try finding mistletoe in Chuncheon,” he said with a shrug. “I had to make do with the next best thing.”

“Oh great, so you attacked my mother’s pot of basil leaves?”

“… please don’t tell her.”

Her brows arched in a look of defiance. “Try me.”

He wiggled the basil leaves. “Then say goodbye to your precious letter to Santa.”

Taking a step back, she cocked her head and peered up at the makeshift mistletoe in a moment of contemplation. Her options were limited, true, but it was hardly the end of the world. Just the thought of redoing the list brought her a bigger headache than Heungmin could ever induce.

And so, with tiny hands balled into fists, she took a decisive step forward and stood on her tiptoes to level their gaze.

Heungmin tried his best to mask his excitement, he really did, but nothing could have stopped the immediate bolt of lightning that struck his very being and coloured his cheeks and ears an adorable shade of pink when she yanked him forward to place a kiss on his cheek.

Taking advantage of his moment of disbelief, she reached behind him to snatch the letter from his grasp, call him an idiot and dash down the stairs with a speed that rivalled his own.

Heungmin, watching her disappear around the corner with a dopey little smile on his face, pressed the basil sprig close to his chest.

Christmas was fun.

•

Christmas fics in January? Why not? Truly a product of my own laziness. Part 2 awaits you 🥹

#son heungmin #heungmin son #heung min son #son heung min #footballer x reader #son heung min fanfic #son heung min fic #son heung min fluff #son heung min imagine #footballer imagine #son heung min scenario #son heung min drabble #son heung min x you #son heung min x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x you #mistletoe

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meetinginsamarra · 1 year

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My fave Sherlock BBC tropes: Enemies to Friends to Lovers

Around mid-month I’ll do a fic rec list with my fave AU genres or tropes. Summaries are taken from OP on AO3.

Enemy Number One by lookupkate

When Anderson finally crosses a line and gets fired a new pathologist takes his place. Sherlock isn't happy to find that the new doctor is almost as good at his job as Sherlock is. Said new doctor, John Watson, wants to woo the genius until he finds out what a prick he can be. Then he's just amused. And maybe a bit fond. And kind of smitten. Then he falls in love with the prick. Bloody hell.

Oscillation by lookupkate

John and Mary have been together for two years and John thinks they should probably settle down. John is happy with Mary. It's the only way their situation makes sense, so it must be happiness. Sherlock sees a flaw in that logic. What does John do then, when the strange man brings parts of his life into question and refuses to just bloody go away? Well, fall in love with him, of course.

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 @alexxphoenix42

John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Mistletoe and Misdemeanours by Robottko

When Victor Trevor backs out of the Holmes family Christmas at the last minute, Sherlock panics because he has no way to impress his parents. Thankfully there is a handsome army doctor with nowhere to go in his coffee shop, though it would be more helpful if he were a bit more willing.

An Everlasting Inferno by thatawkwardfriend

Sherlock and John are both men who operate outside the law. John works for Mary and her hitmen in order to keep a roof over his head. Sherlock does anything his drug dealer asks of him in exchange for free drugs and housing.

They meet one night in a darkened garage to negotiate a deal. But they soon find out that neither of their bosses are being entirely honest with them about their goals or motives. With a little poking around, they stumble upon something much bigger than themselves and discover that perhaps, it might be in their best interests to work together.

(Loosely inspired by StartUp and Little Favour)

The Key to Castles in the Air by LadyKailitha

John is a clerk (and writing a book on the side) at a bookshop run by Mrs Hudson. The one downside to this perfect job is Sherlock Darling, Mrs Hudson's friend who loves to rile John up. About everything.

All that changes when they are forced to spend a week together in the country when bad weather hits. Sherlock's got secrets. What will John do once he finds them out?

Pencil Through My Heart by elwinglyre @elwinglyre

What’s worse? Sharing a byline with an arrogant consulting reporter or falling for him? Seasoned section editor John Watson faces this impossible choice. But first John must find him. Of course Holmes is out chasing the story of the century without him! In the process, Watson must reassess who and what he is, and even worse, admit he cares.

Aim for the Head by Breath4Soul

Sometimes you don't really find yourself until everything has ended. A fic about finding love, healing, and purpose after everything has gone to hell.

As if the doctor can read Sherlock's thoughts, he holds out a protein bar in the space between them. Sherlock’s eyes narrow on the man and flick to the bar with an expression of disgust. “You're at least one stone underweight,” the soldier states matter-of-factly, confirming for Sherlock, in yet another way, that he is a doctor. “Eating slows me down,” Sherlock grumbles. “No, fainting does.” The army doctor smiles kindly, patiently. Sherlock looks at him with confusion. “What do you care?” Sherlock snaps. The soldier’s smile deepens and he gives a casual shrug, turning his eyes to the road a moment. “You faint; we crash.” The soldier’s eyes slide back to Sherlock with their placid expression.

A Further Sea by i_ship_an_armada, ShinySherlock @ishipanarmada

(also on pirate and mermaid AU rec list)

Here be a tale of adventure for both body and soul, but beware if ye be not of stout heart, for this be piratelock, ya savvy? Luckless ship's surgeon John Watson takes a chance, and finds himself eye to eye with The Ghost, the scourge of the seven seas and a definite thorn in the side of the blaggard, James Moriarty. But when John finds there's more to this most cunning pirate than be meetin' the eye, he has to choose--is it a pirate's life for him?

Dive by FinAmour @finamour

It’s John’s third year of studying abroad at Harvard, and he’s still struggling to fit in. On a cold night in December, he finds his girlfriend with another man—and meets a tall, gorgeous bartender with horrible manners that he can’t stop thinking about. Just as John falls for him, madly, swiftly, deeply—the bartender disappears, and the bar unexpectedly shuts down. Unexplained occurrences begin to happen to John and his friends, and he slowly discovers the truth about the one he loves. Will he find him in time to tell him how he feels, and more importantly—can he keep him safe?

Synchronicity by Calais_Reno @calaisreno

Excerpt: John is just muttering some nonsense about bit different from my day when they enter the lab. A tall fellow with dark, curly hair is using a pipette to drop some liquid into a Petri dish. Hearing John’s voice, he looks up. Sherlock Holmes. They both freeze for a moment. He stares into those grey eyes that haven’t changed, still seeing every detail. Holmes gives a tiny smirk. “Afghanistan or Iraq?” It’s been years, and he is surprised at how much it still hurts. Realising that he’s staring, he clears his throat, shuffles his feet, and mumbles something about an appointment he’s forgotten.

OR: John and Sherlock meet again, years after they were school boys together. John hasn't forgotten why he still hates Sherlock Holmes.

The Company He Keeps by wibblywobblytimeywimeystuff

At his lowest point, John Watson met Sherlock Holmes. And Sherlock saved him. At Sherlock's lowest point, he met Greg Lestrade. And they saved each other. This is how Greg met Sherlock, how he met Mycroft, and how he became important to them both.

Toe to Toe by standbygo @blogstandbygo

(also on soldier and spy AU rec list)

Sherlock Holmes is an international ballet star. After a favour for his brother goes south, he finds himself trapped in a foreign country, with a man named John Watson who could be an enemy... or an ally. A crossover of sorts with White Nights, the 1985 film with Mikhail Baryshnikov and Gregory Hines.

If Baker Street Could Talk by a_different_equation @adifferentequation

There is a thin wall between 221b and 221c. As if by fate, it has separated two sitting rooms that now are almost morphing back into one. One of the sitting rooms belongs to Sherlock Holmes (43), a pianist, while the other one belongs to Dr John H. Watson (45), whatever he might be after everything. John is a war hero, an ex-surgeon and a widower; John tells everyone that he is developing a game that might take a lifetime. There might be a wall between them, but Sherlock Holmes and John Watson cannot be separated.

#my fanfic recs #my fave Sherlock BBC AUs #my fave Sherlock BBC tropes #my fave AUs #enemies to friends to lovers

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novankenn · 2 months

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Spirits of Vengeance...

(2)- the Punisher (Jaune)

He watched the comings and goings through the side door of the dilapidated and boarded up store front, from the driver side mirror of his battered black panel van.

It had been five months since the loss of his wife and children to a White Fang firebombing in Atlas. Four months since he used his incomplete Special Operations training to hunt down those vermin. Four months since he did what Atlas' authorities seemed impotent to do.

At twenty-years of age, Jaune Arc had thrown his promising military career, the connections to his still living parents and sisters... for a singular driving goal. To end those that hurt others. To punish those that preyed on the innocent.

"I've seen enough. It's a safe house." he mumbled to himself as he rose from the driver's seat and climbed into the cluttered back of his mobile home. Removing his coat he proceeded to prepare himself.

The first was his tactical vest, followed by several magazines and clips in their proper places, ending with his armaments. A sawed off pump-cation shotgun, a .44 caliber pistol, and finally a well modified military issued assault rifle.

"It's time." he mumbled to no one as he took one final look at his intended target through the back windows of his van. The pair of doors swung open and he stepped out. His highly polished combat boots splashing muddy stale water as his feet made contact with the pavement.

He moved quickly, and with purpose. Reaching the unguarded entrance in just a few seconds. With his back against the wall on the opening side of the door, he pulled a small cylinder like object from a side pocket of his cargo pants. The door squeaked feebly as he pulled it open just enough. Propping it ajar with the toe of his boot, he pulled the pin... and tossed the object into the entryway.

The door swung closed and he turned his head to the side. A couple of seconds later there was a muffled bang, followed by pained and startled shouts. Viciously yanking the door open he stepped inside.

With practiced precision he brought his weapon up and into position. His left index finger ghosting over the trigger of the AR. He moved through the lower floor of the building, his head on a swivel, his weapon up and ready. His finger tapping the trigger.

The AR barked at his commend, unleashing short bursts of brass jacketed rounds into any and every figure he encountered. Blood splattered walls and the floor. Faunus wearing the signature White Fang mask fell along side suited men and women wearing red ties.

In the space of three minutes Jaune had pacified the first floor of the building. Finding the door to the basement, he lobbed another flash-bang down the narrow flight of stairs. With a muffled thump it went off... followed by silence.

Finding the door to the stairwell to the upper floors boarded off, told him he was done. Letting his AR hanging from it's combat sling he moved through the macabre scene of slaughter without pause. Finding a over turned folding table, he knelt down and began to sort through the scatter papers, and maps.

"Now what's all this?" he mumbled to himself as he scanned each piece with his cold remorseless eyes. Finding the marked up maps of Vale interesting, he gathered them. Standing he stepped over the corpses he had created and walked out of the building.

A couple minutes later the van started up, and slowly rolled off, vanishing into the dimly lit streets of Vale's waterfront district.

(Master List)

#rwby #jaune arc #yang xiao long #ghost rider #the punisher #idea test post #origin stories

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isabella-kr · 2 months

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Chapter Thirteen: Old Comrades

This story will include mature themes, please only read if you are 18 years old or over.

If you are underage, you can read the Wattpad version instead as it will include no smut.

This is a work of fiction and does not represent the real Army.

Synopsis: No-Face meets Nik for the first time on a mission and has conflicting feelings about her role.

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, death, mentions of human trafficking, mention of suicide.

Word Count: 7.5k

Note: Heartfelt apologies for those who waited months for the update. Switching from formal writing and back to creative has been a nightmare after so long, so bear with me. Please let me know if you would like to be added or taken off the tag list!

Series Masterlist I COD:MWII Masterlist

Previous Chapter I Next Chapter

GIF not mine

The wolf was dead.

Hadir has not been captured.

Farah's forces were put on the Foreign Terror Organisations list.

Alex was now considered a 'traitor' for joining said forces.

What were once their allies, were now considered hostiles.

Their friends, now enemies, though only legally. They were not above breaking the law to aid those they trusted. But until then, they were to go their separate ways; reach their own goals and complete their own missions.

The sun was scorching, even the gentle breeze of the evening air not helping the soldiers to cool down on the quiet base. His hat cast a shadow over his eyes, shielding them from the blinding light like a fire blanket would from the blistering flames. The years of service made the tactical vest seem almost weightless on his chest despite its heavy weight; its presence now more familiar than its absence.

The ground crunched under his footsteps, the brittle stones falling apart underneath his thick boots. He cleared his throat, his eyes narrowed as the gentle wind blew coarse particles into his face, irritating his eyes and skin.

"Twenty years of Civil War," Laswell spoke, a sharp exhale leaving her lips as she walked beside him.

With a gruff voice, Price responded, "Eh, there's nothing civil about it."

"Hadir's well trained..." Laswell said, briefly looking over at the captain, "...teamed up, kidnapped, it doesn't matter. He took the gas to Russia, John."

"He did that with Al-Qatala's help," Price pointed out.

Kate took a deep breath, "He's got the Network and the manpower."

"Yeah, well, can you blame him?"

"Unofficially, no, but this is bigger than Hadir now," Laswell beathed out a heavy, burdened sigh, "We've got two options."

"What?" Price questioned, "We warn Moscow?"

"Or we let Mother Russia have a taste of her own medicine."

"A lot of innocent people are gonna die."

"At the hands of a Western asset." Laswell added, stopping in her tracks.

"Okay, so let's cut to the chase," Price grumbled, hands at the straps of his vest as he looked out aimlessly through the mesh fence.

"What do you suggest?"

"A business trip."

"Unsanctioned?"

"Black."

"Who's your team?"

He turned to face her, his voice growing softer, quieter, "Some old comrades."

"And the Sergeant?"

They both turned to look over at Kyle, his hands and mind busy, too preoccupied with his gun to notice them looking his way.

"He's ready."

Laswell took in a breath, giving him a look before, ultimately, nodding in agreement, "I can get you in. After that you're on your own. Host nation weapons only."

"Leave it to me," he responded with an understanding nod, "And, Kate..."

She hummed questioningly, and was quick to follow his line of sight when she caught him looking over his shoulder. Their eyes settled on No-Face who, with her elbows digging into her knees, stared ahead with a blank look in her eyes. Southwick was beside her, holding out a packet of chocolates for her to take, but she swiftly refused with a swat of her hand.

"She's ready, too."

Kate was apprehensive. She didn't respond at first, and after a moment she shook her head in disagreement. Yet when she saw the seriousness – the certainty –in his eyes, she had no choice but to agree, "If you're sure."

"I am," he said flatly, his voice deep and gruff.

There was another small pause, the two standing together in silence, eyes settled on the horizon; the yellows and oranges painted the evening sky as the sun began to settle. It was a pleasant sight. One neither of them got to admire much these days.

"You should've told me," John eventually spoke again.

"Told you what?" She questioned, her arms crossing over her chest as she stared ahead and took in a sharp and heavy inhale.

"Everything, Kate." He murmured, "Everything."

"About No-Face?" she raised her brows, to which he nodded, "I told you, John, I needed you to-"

"Build trust, yeah," he scoffed, "But I didn't know what I was working with, Kate. This is bigger than a group of hitmen killing for money. She doesn't even have a proper name for fucks sake."

"Well, she does now-"

"Right, Jane Doe. I'll Have Morris' fuckin' head for that," he grumbled, clenching his hands around the vest straps.

"John-"

"She can do nothing with it, Kate. Can't open her own bank account, can't get a loan, can't buy a... can't do anything with it. No-one will believe it's her real name. It's useless."

"Yeah, that's the point," Kate muttered, "You-"

"Pissed him off, yeah I know."

He pulled out a cigar then, and swiftly lit it up with a lighter. The smoke was quick to envelop him like a fog, and he sighed as he felt the burn of it as it entered his airways and filled up his lungs.

"D'you know anything else?" he eventually asked, his tone calmer than it was just a few seconds ago, "Something she might... not? About the compounds, the 'management', the trafficking? Anything?"

A frown, followed by a disappointed shake of her head.

"We've tried," She told him, "Had some leads, but never anything solid that would lead us to the root; matched some of the ones we've captured, or found dead, with missing persons cases, intervened before a group of kids could get trafficked... but every time we feel we're getting close..."

"You get pushed back," he spoke gruffly, to which she confirmed with a grim nod, "Have you... found her family?"

Their eyes locked, hers holding a hint of disappointment as she spoke, "No, we couldn't get a match. As far as we can tell, she's got no family."

A pause.

A tense pause.

"I've already told No-Face this..." Kate spoke again, "But you should know, too. They're planning something for her."

His brows knit, "Like?"

"I'm not certain," she admitted, "Definitely something to do with her past. I told her she'd be the first to know if I found out, but John..."

She took in a deep breath, and a sharp exhale followed.

"I don't think she'll be your problem for much longer."

He hummed, clearing his throat before he spoke out, "She's not a problem."

"You know what I meant," she retorted, "She won't be under your direct order... under your supervision."

"Kate, I don't think..." he shook his head, eyes drifting down to the ground, focusing on a sharp rock by the edge of the fence, "I don't think she's ready for that yet."

"I doubt this is up for debate," she told him with a serious look in her eyes, a heavy exhale following before she added, "Leave Southwick here."

"Why?"

"They're close," Kate spoke as though it was obvious.

She looked over her shoulder, eyes settling on the duo as Thomas pressed a chocolate star against her lips, practically forcing her to eat the sweet treat. She sent him a bothered look, yet took the chocolate anyway, and popped it into her mouth.

"He's always around; she'd grown dependant on him," She explained, "He won't always be with her, so... see how she does without him."

Their boots echoed off the brick walls as they climbed up a chilly staircase, the stomping echoing against the run-down walls. A smell of mildew and something she couldn't quite put her finger on was thick in the air; an old scent. The type of scent you would smell in decades-old buildings, the type that would tickle your nose, and make you clear your throat before an irritated cough escaped your lips.

She stopped behind Gaz, her arms crossing as the captain lightly knocked on a wooden door. Her eyes drifted for a moment, as if taking the place in; the holes in the concrete wall, the grey paint on the bottom half of the walls, which she had no doubt was once a pristine white.

There was a sheet of a paper taped onto it. Half of it was ripped, no doubt having spent days, or perhaps even weeks in the cold corridor. The Cyrillic writing on it was faded, some of it smudged, but she could still read it somewhat.

A missing poster.

A missing poster of an older black cat with two white patches on its little head. The picture was hand-drawn, no doubt by a broken-hearted child desperate to find its friend. A light frown pulled at her corners of her lips, the corridor growing a little colder as they stood there... waiting.

Eventually, the door opened, and a tall man let them through, the Russian accent thick on his tongue as he spoke his greetings, "Captain," he nodded his head at Price.

"Nik," John returned with familiarity in his tone, and reached out to shake the other man's hand.

The friendly nature of their exchange was enough to tell her that not only were the two men familiar with one another, no doubt sharing a rich past, but they were also friends; they were close. At least as close as soldiers from two different nations could be.

After exchanging pleasantries, John turned back towards his subordinates and first gestured at Gaz, who stood straight beside her, the thick coat keeping his body safe from the cold of the winter season.

"Sergeant Garrick," Price introduced Kyle to the Russian, who then reached forward and shook his hand in a pleasant greeting.

Price's eyes then settled on her, a small nod spared her way, "No-Face."

"Pleasure to meet you," Nik's strong accent echoed in the small room, the grip of his hand firm when he reached forward, and shook hers too.

He was tall with slick back hair, the gel he smoothed it over with reflecting the light from the lamp above him. His face was creased with wrinkles that came with the job; the stress, the near-death experiences, and harsh environments were sure to leave their marks. The creases and cracks like a maze of experiences on his skin – sad, but also beautiful in their own way.

The flat they were in wasn't big, the rooms barely big enough to fit the four of them, but it did its job. They weren't there for a holiday, they were there to work, and the run-down walls, nor the struggling heater wouldn't get in their way of completing their assignment.

"Likewise," she responded, the Russian language rolling off her tongue in an almost natural manner.

"Ah," Nik laughed, "You speak Russian!"

"A bit," she responded with a brief smile, "I was taught when I was a child, but I haven't used it in years."

"Still good," he complimented with a soft chuckle, and gave her a firm pat on the side of her arm.

A friendly gesture.

One she often received from her captain, forcing a brief and light smile to pull at her lips. She gave the man a nod, and then looked to John, as if expecting a briefing, or an order of some kind.

"Could be some time before we see anything," he said, his voice low and eyes on his subordinates, "Get some rest, you two. Might be a while before you get the chance again."

There was no arguing or questioning his order. Not that anyone wished to; they were both exhausted after a long journey, and although she doubted she would get a healthy, full 8-hour's worth of sleep (Not that she ever did in the first place), resting her eyes for even a moment would be beneficial in the long-run.

And as she took her place on a less than comfortable arm-chair, and the minutes ticked her by, she watched silently as the moon moved along the night sky. Kyle's soft breathing as filled the room as he slept, an occasional snore causing her to send him a frustrated look at ruining the most pleasant silence. Hushed words travelled from the kitchen area, where the captain and his old friend discussed the mission at hand.

There was a brief tapping against the old window as small spatters of rain fell against the glass, the wooden frames creaking from the soft wind, a gentle whistling coming through the cracks. Sleep came briefly to her that night, allowing her rest, but not enough to sustain her the entire day.

Her eyes closed, soothing the sting that settled on her corneas, though not for long. The female assassin she murdered was haunting her dreams; her voice, her youthful face, the dreaded mark on the back of her neck. The moment the light went out of her eyes, the way she fell to the floor with that lifeless thud.

Her past was ingrained on the inside of her eyelids, torturing her.

No-Face's eyes snapped open, staring up at the boring, white ceiling and doing her best to distract herself. But when it wasn't the girl she was thinking of... it was those eyes.

She recognised them.

She knew him. Personally.

And yet she could not figure out how.

A passing face at the compound? No, it was more than that.

Her head hurt from the thoughts as she tried to make herself remember. But her attempts were fruitless.

She reckoned it was her mind blocking it out. She remembered her therapist saying something about that years ago; about how our own minds would block out hurtful memories in order to protect ourselves.

It was a pain in the ass, though, and it was really working against her at that moment.

The already existing circles were more apparent around her eyes when the morning came, an obvious exhaustion painted on her features. Her arms crossed over her chest, shoulder leaning against the threshold of the kitchen door, a protein bar crunching between her teeth as she watched the men move outside the building.

"I got two on the door," Kyle's low voice echoed in the cramped room, the soldiers watching from behind an old floral net curtain as the terrorists stood armed in front of a closed, metal gate.

"More Al-Qatala inside," Nikolai grumbled.

A vehicle approached the two, armed men, it's engine purring, the tires scraping against the pavement as the car slowed, quieting before finally coming to a halt.

"Good spot," Nik spoke, a sense of acknowledgement in his tone, "The parking here sucks."

Two more men exited the car, quick and eager to pull out their weapons, pistols in hands before their feet even hit the ground. Like loyal guards, they opened the back door for their leader, the man jumping out in a carefree fashion.

"There's the butcher in the yellow shirt," Price stated, his eyes narrowing slightly, the crow's feet intensifying on his skin.

Kyle exhaled in a sharp and frustrated manner, "Bastard from the embassy."

"No Gas," Nik pointed out, recognising the lack of cannisters in the back of the vehicle.

The Butcher pointed his finger at one of his men, spewing orders at his subordinates. No-Face's eye twitched, the protein bar crunching between her teeth as she took another bite, the sweetness almost sickly on her tastebuds.

"No Hadir." A sigh escaped the captain.

"Easy shot," Kyle spoke, his voice light.

"Tempting," Nikolai agreed.

"Four of us, five of them," No-Face said with a monotone voice, "One of us could take two. They'd be out before they knew what hit them."

"Hold fast." Price interrupted, "The Butcher gets us to Hadir."

"Or the gas attack goes off," Garrick countered, having a valid point.

Just because they could not see the gas, does not mean it wasn't there.

Price crossed his arms over his chest, his voice low and grumbly, "Well, if that happens then we're all fucked."

The captain took in a sharp breath, sharing quick looks with his comrades.

"Let's gear up," he motioned, "get evil – clock's ticking."

"This way," Nik gestured for them to follow, and lead them into a room they had not previously entered. There, on a round table covered in greying table cloth, was a large black weapons box, "Best I could do on a short notice..."

He opened up the box, the thick metal heavy in his hands. A series of weapons were inside, large and small, but all deadly, the beautiful black reflecting the headlight above.

"Suppressors, ammo – no flashbangs," the Russian soldier told them, gesturing at the weapons.

The three reached inside, each grabbing a pistol. No-Face felt the weight of it in her hands, the cold of the metal seeping through her leather gloves, the motion of loading the weapon like second-nature, the ammo sliding easily into the compartment.

"Nice job, Nik," Price gave his old friend a thankful nod, inspecting the gun in his hands, ".40 cal hollow points."

"150 grain," Nik pointed out, "Your favourite."

Price gave a deep and gruff chuckle, nodding appreciatively.

The captain concealed the gun in its holster by his hip, hiding underneath his coat. No-Face was quick to do the same, hiding the gun from any peering eyes under the comfort of the coat she was wearing, the material trapping heat underneath it.

Heat that she would have appreciated in the night, but now, as she had to be wide awake, her eyes stinging and lacking sleep, it did not do well in keeping her awake. She shook off the feeling, the pads of her fingertips briefly rubbing at her eyes.

This was no time for exhaustion.

No time for weakness.

With a last nod spared for the new addition to the team, she took her leave. Her footsteps loud against the creaking floor, an echo following when she stepped out of the flat, the cement tough underneath the soles of her shoes.

Garrick spared her a look over his shoulder, his eyes momentarily meeting hers before they moved, trailing behind the captain, taking quick yet careful steps down the old staircase, their footsteps echoing in the old block.

"I know you want another shot at the butcher," Price spoke, his words directed at the sergeant.

"No grave deep enough for that sick bastard, sir," Gaz responded, his voice deep and full of ambition, focused on only one goal.

"You'll have your chance," Price's voice came out gruff as it echoed in the corridor, "but right now, we need the Butcher alive."

As their boots stomped against the hard floors of the old building, a door opened before them, and a civilian with a pleasant smile stepped out of his home.

"Hello," the man spoke in Russian, his tone friendly and smooth.

Price was quick to answer, responding in like manner and sparing the man a nod, before a chorus of 'good morning's came from behind him, Kyle's accent clearly foreign, his pronunciation of the unfamiliar language lacking.

"That's not bad," the captain complimented.

"That's all I got..."

No-Face breathed out a light laugh as they neared the end of the staircase, "Need a tutor?"

Kyle spared her a brief look as their journey continued, "Might just take you up on that."

Price's deep voice interrupted them then, the light old and dusty light flickering above him, "We sweep the guards up so they can't alert the others, then move in on the rear door..."

He pushed the door open with a creak, the unpleasant noise bouncing off the cement walls and ricocheting throughout the building. The light from the morning sun infiltrated the cold corridor, its presence welcome in the barely lit building.

"Guns on my signal," he ordered, stepping out into the yard, "not before..."

They followed behind, the chilly air hitting their skin. Their arms were at their sides, trying to look casual, but she could see the tension under their coats, and she was sure the hostiles could, too.

An Al-Qatala soldier screamed at them, the group stalking in their direction, their brows furrowed and lips pulled into a grimace. Fierce looks grew on their faces, their backs straight and hands on their guns in an intimidating manner in an attempt to scare them off; back them into a corner.

"Easy, mate," The captain spoke, pretending to be nothing more than a civilian, "we've got permits, alright?"

The shouting didn't cease, the soldiers only growing more frustrated with their guests. The leader of the group pointed an accusatory finger at Price, speaking quickly in his mother tongue, spewing orders and trying to control the situation.

"Show him, Kyle – Now!"

They were down before they could even blink.

The three had pulled their weapons out in a matter of seconds, bullets flying across the yard and lodging in the enemies' skulls. They fell like flies, heavy heads hitting the concrete ground, a crack or two echoing between the old buildings.

She almost winced at the sound, imagining the split scalps and bloody puddles that were bound to flood the ground, deep red painting the stone beneath.

The next moments were of chaos and death.

Weapons raised, gunshots echoing in the air, bodies falling to the floor.

They charged through the buildings, a trail of bodies behind them. Their blood spluttering from their enemies' lips, bones breaking, hearts stopping.

No-Face jumped over a bar counter, broken glass cracking as it littered the floor, spilled alcohol sticking to the soles of her boots. Her eyes were on a hostile, whose furious gaze was on the captain, gun aimed at his head. She was quick in grasping a knife from a chopping board, the sharp blade wedged into a lemon, its juices running down the silver when she pulled it out and threw it. The blade whirred in the air, flying quickly across the room until the cold, silver metal impaled itself into the hostile's temple, blood trickling down his cheek in an instant.

He fell to the floor, hand grasping at the knife as his fingers attempted to wrap around the handle; to pull the damned thing out of his head. His eyes were almost pleading. Scared.

Crash.

She could've sworn she felt something crack within her chest when her back was forcefully slammed against the wall. The air was punched out of her lungs, and before she could replenish them, a thick hand wrapped around her neck, rough fingers squeezing her throat.

She scratched at his hand in shock, fingernails digging painfully into his wrist. She kicked at his legs, almost bending his knees the other way, but his hold only tightened, and he slammed the back of her head against the wall in retaliation.

Choking on the air she couldn't take in, her eyes narrowed, the moment of shock quickly passing as she tried to reach for the belt around her waist, the stupidly thick coat only getting in her way. She stomped harshly on his foot, taking the chance to pull the knife out of its sheath when he grunted in pain, his hold briefly loosening around her throat.

Blood splattered on their faces as she plunged it into his wrist, splitting his skin apart as she cut deep into his flesh. He screamed in pain, rage and adrenaline burning in his eyes.

He pulled that very same arm back, and punched her hard in the face, fist colliding with her nose. The blood was quick to trickle down her lips, scent of iron strong in the air. There was a ringing in her ears, the high-pitched type that made you feel like your ear drums were about to explode, the pain that caused her face to go almost numb only worsening it.

She spat the blood out onto the floor, grabbing his fist with her hands before he could land another blow. She pulled the bloodied blade out of his flesh, his blood mixing with hers as it sprayed onto their clothes, painting their skin red.

Before she could stab him again and again, he grabbed her hand with his, their arms creating a cross between them as they fought over the blade. Droplets of red fell from the tip of the knife as she pushed, her arms stinging as she used all her strength against him, the blade close to his cheek, yet not yet close enough to hurt him.

Just as she was coming out the victor, the bloody tip cutting into the soft flesh of his cheek – bang.

A splutter of hot liquid.

Her eyes were stuck together by the thick blood that painted her face, the sound of a whizzing bullet almost making her flinch. The metal lodged itself into the wall beside her, missing her head by a mere inch.

The blood squelched underneath her fingertips as she wiped it off, smearing it around her eyes just in time to watch as he fell, a see-through hole now in his temple. His head bounced off the sticky floor, shards of broken glass imbedding into his skin.

"Fuck," Price's voce caught her attention, his lips pulled into a grimace when he saw the bloody state she was in, "You alright?"

A white cloth turned red when she grabbed it, wiping the thick, drying fluid off her leather gloves. She groaned in disgust, the damned blood stuck underneath her fingernails.

She spared him a nod, throwing the dirty cloth to the side as she sheathed the wiped blade back in its place at her hip. "Nice aim," was what she told him, the lack of emotion in her voice causing his brows to knit.

For the briefest of moments, they stood there in silence. Just staring before more bullets were shot in the distance, and the chaos of the mission resumed.

She zigzagged between old cars, her legs swift against the pavement as she ran through the loud city, her bullets echoing, bouncing between the buildings as they killed off their enemies. One by one, Butcher's men fell to the ground like ragdolls.

Speak of the devil.

The man was barely metres away, his yellow shirt like a target in the monotone city. They rushed towards him, Kyle most eager to reach the terrorist before he could, once again, escape their grasp.

A squeak of tires. A thud.

An old, grey van crashed into him. his body fell and slid painfully onto the road, the gun slipping from his limp fingers. No-Face was surprised he hadn't left a bloody trail behind him, or a faceprint on the pavement. But aside for potential brain damage, he seemed to be physically sound.

The van door opened, and out jumped Nikolai, his footsteps quick as he rushed to secure the hostile's body before any of his friends could save him.

"Is hard to run with concussion, no?" the Russian chuckled as he picked up Butcher by his arms, dragging his body backwards towards the old vehicle.

"Ah, it's only a scratch," The captain joked, "Get him in the fucking van...."

The Russian threw the unconscious butcher in the van, his body almost bouncing off the dirty flooring before stilling in the corner, bunched up against the wall.

"Who are you?" he grumbled out, waking from his sudden and unwelcome slumber, his tone growing angry and frustrated, "So my men can send your heads home to your families."

"Fuck off, shit-pouch." Kyle spat as he and No-Face jumped in after him, locking themselves in the van with guns at the ready, guarding the back of the vehicle from incoming enemies.

Her knee popped as she crouched, her gun aimed out of the smashed window, eyes narrowed as gunmen and armed vehicles headed in their direction. She looked back at Gaz, who gave her a determined look in return.

The engine sputtered. Sirens wailed in the distance.

Her lips parted, ready to question the men at the front of the car, when Nik's voice echoed throughout the vehicle.

"Uh, small problem!" he announced.

"What?" The captain was quick to question.

"The engine," He began, his voice almost apologetic, "... is a little cranky."

Tires screeched against the road as more and more vehicles joined, men jumping out the cars with guns raised and aiming their way. Bullets whistled as they flew past, lodging in the metal of the van, a loud clang following.

"Ah, sing it a bloody lullaby, we gotta go!" Price's frustrated groan echoed throughout the old car; desperation clear in his tone as the hostiles swarmed around them.

Her finger squeezed the trigger, bullets flying back at the attacking hostiles. It penetrated one's head, the force throwing him back, his eyes going lifeless as blood trickled down his bruised temple. Another bullet lodged itself in a hostile's shoulder, sending him backward and into a car door, his back smashing hard against it, his breath knocked out of his lungs. She shot at the man again, bullet flying through him and smashing the window behind him, glass raining down in small, sharp pieces.

An explosion caused her arm to fly in front of her, shielding her eyes and face from the sudden heat, the light almost blinding as one of the cars lit on fire.

Kyle was beside her, an RPG resting heavily against his shoulder as he aimed the weapon at another car. She covered herself, hiding behind the van doors as he shot another round, another explosion following, the flames lighting up the dull street as bodies of their hostiles were thrown to the side.

A loud groan echoed, the van rumbling when the engine finally revved, and Nik's happy laugh reached her even through the chaos of the outside world, "There she is!"

"Floor it!" The captain yelled, "Go!"

The cold, evening air prickled at her skin, elbows digging into her knees as she sat sideways on the old car seat. The door was wide open, one of her feet dangling above the ground, specks of blood still littering the fine leather. The smell of smoke tickled her nose as it danced in the air, the tip of Nik's cigarette bright in the dark of the night.

It was a quiet night, the crescent moon hanging proudly in the sky, surrounded by faint specks of light. The starts were dimmed by the brightness of the city lights, but their beauty not erased completely.

Only faint chatter and laughter disturbed the otherwise peaceful moment, cutting through the silence of the night. It was distant, a group of friends sharing a pleasant night out, their voices cheerful and carefree, drunken singing echoing between the buildings.

It was almost pleasant to listen to.

She leaned her head against the cold metal of the car, an almost relaxed breath escaping her lips. She allowed her eyes to close, the quiet soothing, the cold night air a reminder of her childhood, of the cold nights she endured, and yet... it was almost comforting.

"Smoke?" Nik interrupted the silence that settled upon them.

"No," she spoke in a quiet tone, "I don't smoke."

"You're stressed," he pointed out as though it was obvious, "Smoke. It will relax you."

A surprised laugh had escaped her in response. Her eyes ventured to the sky, gazing upon the many stars which sparkled like glitter in the night sky.

"Really," he added, holding the cigarette out towards her.

She held a look of disbelief, though couldn't help the curiosity that quickly grew.

Her childhood was... sterile. The scent of antiseptic common in the four walls she grew up in. The smell of bland food during lunch, the metallic scent of blood and itchy gunpowder on her fingers.

Smoke brought a scratch to her throat, cigarettes a rare sight during missions. Yet in the recent years grew more common; from the foul-smelling soldiers who smoked like their life depended on it, to the captain himself, who often held a thick cigar between her fingers.

It was a scent she grew to detest, but reached for the thin stick anyway.

She held it between her index and middle finger, the smoke swirling around her hand in a slow dance, its scent settling on the bloody leather of her gloves.

Placing it between her lips, she took a hesitant drag, the smoke settling on her throat like falling soot and scratching painfully as it ventured further, choking her as it filled up her lungs. A harsh cough escaped her, the sound coming from deep within her chest as her body rejected the intrusion.

She handed the cigarette back to Nik, who only laughed as she coughed into the inside of her elbow. He took another inhale of the smoke before throwing it on the pavement, and putting it out with his thick boot.

"Trained all your life to stand anything but not a little cigarette smoke," he commented with a chuckle, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned his back against the side of the van, "Funny, no?"

She took a few moments to rid her lungs of any remaining smoke, small coughs rattling her chest and throat. She looked at him, her eyes analysing him; his words, his stature, his expression, before she shook her head and almost rolled her eyes at him in response.

"Very," she said sarcastically, the Russian accent thick on her tongue, "This is how you and Price became friends? You took smoking breaks together?"

The soldier laughed, his arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back against the side of the cold van. He gave her a knowing look, sensing her words held more than just sarcasm. They stunk of curiosity, and were perhaps even a little nosy as well.

"We met on a mission," he told her honestly, "Years ago. We have a... common enemy."

"A common enemy." She repeated, raising a brow in further question.

He pulled out a lighter, and lit up another cigarette, the tip bright as he inhaled the thick smoke, "Yes."

She sent him a look. Her expression enough for him to know she wanted to know more, her interest about the captain's past piqued.

"No, no, no," He told her plainly, but with a brief laugh, "If he wants to tell... he will."

She almost huffed, her arms crossing over her chest as she leaned back against the chair in defeat. She wanted to know more about the captain; about his past and present.

She guessed it would come in time, but aside for knowing what the inside of his home looked like, and brief mentions of his life here and there, she didn't know much. It was her past that had been slowly revealed, tales of her childhood shared, but when it came to him... she still had a lot to learn.

Perhaps it was still early, not even a full year passing since she was forcibly placed on his team. They had come a long way, there was no denying it. But there was still a long way to go, though she reckoned patience really was the key in this instance.

"What are we doing here?" She eventually questioned, breathing in the thick smoke that swam around them in circles.

She was quiet on the way here. After Garrick and the captain took Butcher with them into a secure room, her order was to remain with Nik, who swiftly took the van back on the road, successfully evading any Police cars or hostiles who could have been lurking about. There was a sense of confusion when he parked in a seemingly ordinary neighbourhood, civilians none the wiser as they went about their day.

He cleared his throat, tapping the soot off the tip of his cigarette.

"Picking up a package," he explained, sparing the watch on his wrist a brief glance.

He stomped the cigarette out, the burning tip sizzling as it was met with the wet snow on the pavement. He gestured for her to follow, and no-face did so without question, slamming the car door behind her as she walked beside him, doing her best to appear as casual as possible.

Blending in was never her strong suit.

The large, wooden doors creaked as they were pushed open, the cold following behind them as they stepped inside the old building. He led them through the cramped corridors, the lights dull as they swayed above them.

He reached for the gun in his holster, having it at the ready as he lifted his arm, and knocked three times on a stranger's door. There was a series of whispers on the other side, soft footsteps echoing as people moved about.

The lock clicked and hinges squeaked as it was pulled ajar. Barely open, allowing only a slither of light to pass through. Nikolai pushed the door open, sending the woman on the other side backwards, her back almost hitting the circular table behind her.

Her eyes were wide, and upon seeing the gun in his hands, she didn't even try to run away, the thought of fighting him off seemingly not even crossing her mind. She lifted her hands up in a defeated position, her arms shaky and breathing heavy, fear clear in her eyes.

"Where is the other one?" Nikolai questioned the frightened woman.

She shook her head frantically, eyes briefly landing on no-face before she spoke, "No... No one is here. Just me."

She was a bad liar.

"Watch her."

No-Face held her own pistol her way, aiming at the woman despite knowing she had no intention of escaping. No intention of making this difficult for them.

"Please..." a whisper left her lips, her eyes almost begging as Nik made a ruckus in another part of the flat, "Don't..."

"I won't hurt you," No-Face spoke flatly, her tone not meant to comfort her in any way, "As long as you do as we ask."

A minute or two ticked by before Nikolai finally returned. The woman's face growing even more frightened when she saw her son guided forward, Nik's finger not on the trigger, but the gun still aimed at the boy's back.

She could see the tears welling up in the woman's eyes, her breathing growing shakier and more frightened as the boy ran into her arms. A sob escaped her, bouncing off the walls in the small room.

"No screaming," Nik warned, "No running. Do what I say and you will be okay. Yes?"

She nodded frantically, desperately clawing at her son, holding him close to her as though she was his shield. She held his hand, fingers grasping his own tightly as she guided him behind her, her breathing erratic and eyes wet with tears.

Nick was at the front, leading them out the flat and the building, his walk casual and nonchalant, not looking any different from the civilians that passed them by. One even sent them a stiff smile and nodded in a greeting, but the tired marks on his face had him lacking in focus, not giving the frightened woman a second glance before he disappeared from view.

The van door was pulled open, and with no fight at all, the woman and her son climbed into the back, curled together, his mother's arms wrapped protectively around the boy's frame. He wept in a frightened manner, his quiet sobs muffled by his mother's body shielding his own.

Nik pulled the door closed, the lock clicking as metal slammed against metal.

Getting back in the car, a tense silence grew. No-Face said nothing, looking numbly out the window, unable to tune out the boy's crying, and his mother's gentle whispers as she tried to soothe him. They didn't seem to know what was truly happening; the boy, she wasn't surprised by, but his mother seemed to be in the dark as well.

The car drove smoothly down the road, occasionally bumping as they drove over a pothole. The radio was turned off, and the silence uncomfortable.

Nik cleared his throat, but remained silent, his eyes focused on the road ahead.

She took in a sharp and heavy breath, "They didn't do anything..."

"No," Nik agreed, his tone low as he spoke, "You were trained for this, no?"

Confusion brewed on her face. Were soldiers trained for this? To kidnap innocent people, to traumatise children with their guns? She definitely couldn't see Thomas doing something like this. He was too kind, she thought. But maybe he didn't mean them.

He meant her.

She turned to look at him, her brows knit, "Price told you?"

A moment passed before he shook his head and spoke in his mother tongue, "He didn't have to... I met a few of you before. First one was young boy, no older than 17... and leading a fucking trafficking operation. He had this... look in his eyes. Empty. Cold. Back then I thought it was the usual case of falling into company with the wrong people. Common more with drug dealers and gangs, but still possible."

A burdened sigh left his lips, the muscles in his face tensing.

"He had those gloves, but I never gave them a second thought," he said, "Until I saw them again. On a girl, maybe in her mind-twenties. Then another, and another. All killed before I got to them. I knew there had to be something more to it, but I was younger and inexperienced, so all my efforts to raise the concern with my superiors were shut down."

A brief silence settled upon them. He cleared his throat, rubbing at his face before his voice filled the van again.

"There was one I had the chance to question," he told her, "I was alone, and thought taking a... kinder... approach might work. But the more I tried to assure her, tell her I could help her, the more scared she became. She shot herself right in front of me... She was no older than 15."

Nik looked at her, his eyes glancing down to the red scythe embroidered into her leather gloves.

"And now you..."

Her finger covered the red symbol, feeling the rough material underneath her fingertips. She leaned her head back against the stiff seat, her eyes falling shut as a heavy breath escaped her lips.

"We were," she admitted with a nod, "Trained for this... kind of. It depended on your strengths. Some were great at manipulating others, some blended in well, some spied, some were the muscle, and some... seduced."

She breathed out heavily, her breath fogging up on the cold glass of the car window.

"I was the muscle. The perfect soldier," she chuckled, albeit humourlessly, "And I was fucking good at it. Still am. Blending in and doing undercover work was not my strong suit; the one of the few times I was sent on a mission like that, it was in a hospital... and I ended up looking straight into a camera. Then, because I was actively trying not to, I ended up looking more suspicious than I initially did."

Despite the anger Nik felt moments ago when telling her of his experiences, he laughed. A soft chuckle, but still an amused one, his muscled slowly losing the tension they held.

"The boy I met first, he did seem... charismatic," he said, and she nodded, aware it was a common trait shared between those who specialised in more 'social' departments. "Which... no offence, but, you're not."

She raised her brows, though didn't take any offence to his statement. He wasn't exactly wrong, and it was definitely what played a huge part in her role in the organisation. But that wasn't to say she completely lacked in those skills; if it came down to it, she was taught enough to know how to blend in, or manipulate, even if it didn't come as naturally to her as it did to others.

"Yeah," She sighed, "I just killed."

There was a brief pause that settled between them. She pressed her forehead against the glass, the cold numbing her skin.

"So many innocent people," Her voice came out in a soft and faint tone, almost a whisper, "Which I... don't want to do anymore. Not that woman in the back... not the kid."

Nik exhaled. Sharply.

"Speak with the captain," he told her, shooting her a sympathetic glance before adding, his tone lighter, as if his next words were supposed to make her feel any better, "You are the lucky one, you know that, yes?"

She supposed she was.

She wasn't murdered or sold.

She wasn't still stuck in that compound, nameless and cold as she was forced to blindly follow every single order she was given. No questions asked or you're out.

She was given a second chance... kind of.

She met new people, made new friends. Shared some laughs, tried new foods.

She saw the coast. Watched the way the sunlight sparkled on the gentle waves of the sea.

She felt the sand beneath her feet.

But still... she couldn't escape the fate of a soldier.

The gunpowder. The blood.... the smell of death.

It was ingrained into her being.

Impossible to escape.

"Doesn't feel like it."

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rowretro · 7 months

Text

✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

WARNINGS:

✧tag list✧:@chlorinecake @nikisdubblchococake @enhypensccstarlight @strwberrydinosaur @sunghoonsbeautymark @strawbsj @who-tf-is-sodhi @addictedtohobi (pls tell me if i'm missing any tags)

✧CHAPTER 19✧

5 years have passed and those 5 years have been filled with more fights and drug cartels trying to attack the Nishimura family. Riki was trying to let go of the drug business, with his hands stained with so much blood and his family constantly being under attack. However, once you pick up a gun there’s no letting go of it. Kyle was now 10, still somewhat unaware of the drug business. Now he is 10, he does understand what’s good and bad, Which just makes Yeonjun’s job much easier.

“Well aren’t you a little cutie~” y/n cooed as Kyle sighed “Mom I’m not cute anymore- I’m literally the coolest kid in my school- stop emba-” he cut himself when he saw y/n go to Yeseol who was playing with her toys “what is my little expert doing today?” y/n asked as the girl smiled up at her “I’m making pasghetti!” She squealed, as Kyle frowned. “Awww pasghettti- you’re so cute~” Y/n cooed, cradling the 5 year old as she kisses her forehead. “Kyle, I packed your bag for football sweetie, daddy will drop you off kay?” the girl adds before heading to the kitchen.

Kyle walks over to Yeseol, his arms crossed as he stared down at her. “Want sum pasghetti?” the girl asked as the boy frowned “We all know you can say it! Even I could when I was 5” Kyle said as Yeseol pouted. “Kyle are you ready to go?” Riki asked as he grabs his keys. “Yeah- I’ll be in the car-” He said before running to the front seat. “Daddy!” Yeseol squealed, making grabby hands at Riki, smiling, he picked her up and twirled the little girl around. “Daddy will be back soon sweetie, go play with mommy for now~” Riki said, before placing a soft kiss on the little girl’s forehead.

“Mommy…. Happy buwfday!” the 5 year old said as she gave y/n a cute little drawing of the 4 of them, in pink, smiling, she picked up the girl, kissing her cheek, she sat on the sofa with Yeseol in her lap. “You drew this on yourself? No wayyy…. Daddy helped you didn’t he?” she playfully narrowed her eyes as the 5 year old started whining. “No no sweetie I’m joking, it’s just so beautiful~” she complimented, hugging her softly.

Meanwhile, Riki was driving Kyle to football. “Kyle, score some goals and come home a proud footballer, and don’t forget, have fun. It’s not all about winning” he pointed out as the boy shrugged “But you do know I will end up winning anyway right?” the boy asked as Riki snickered. Just as Riki was going to go in for a hug, Kyle held his hand up.

“We don’t hug we high five or fist bump.” He said as Riki rolled his eyes playfully. “Also please don’t tell mom about the lost sweater… she thinks it was stolen, and my pencil case, and my old glasses, and my-” “Kyle it’s ok- I won’t snitch on you for losing those things, as long as you back me up about that lost shirt, She got it for me on valentines day…” Riki trailed off as Kyle nodded, heading off to the pitch.

Riki bid him goodbye before driving home, the scene he was met with was already horrifying as is, smashed, gunshot windows. He didn’t bother parking in the garage, he left his vehicle and ran inside the building, feather stuffing from the pillows, smashed furniture, and trickles of blood. “y/n, Yeseol?! Please tell me you’re ok-” he called out, with hopes that none of them were hurt. To his luck he found them, in a corner, Yeseol safely hidden in y/n’s arms.

“Are they gone?” Y/n asked as Riki nodded, bending down to their level. God it was heartbreaking to see his 5 year old covering her ears, as she snuggled into y/n, the little girl probably confused about what was happening. Crying, she walked over to Riki, hugging him, the male carried her, gently rocking her and reassuring that everything was ok while Y/n just glared at him. She helped the maids around a little with the cleaning, as the windows get replaced by bulletproof ones, more than just one window on each windowspace.

Riki walked into the living room that evening, a first aid kit in his hand as he approached y/n. She had been ignoring him since the incident, her heart still pounding every time she thinks about Yeseol, or what could’ve happened if it wasn’t for her fast actions. “Show me.” he simply said as he opened the box, the girl frowned “What is there to show? I'm perfectly fine, no thanks to you.” She said as Riki sighed. “Honey, running your wounds under cold water won’t solve it. Just show me them please…” he asked as the girl did so.

There were no major wounds, just a few pretty deep cuts, a big one across her palm. Every little cut and drip of blood was a reminder that Riki was a danger to the woman he loves, and the kids he holds dearly to his heart. It fucking hurt his heart as he hear her soft hisses and whimpers from pain. Why was he like this? Why can’t he just stop? Wasn’t Kyle holding onto his dear life as a baby enough of a reminder. Running away from his gang life clearly put him in more danger, but embracing this life still puts his family in danger.

“I know you’re mad at me… but… I’m sorry, also Yeseol is in the garden” he said nonchalantly as y/n glared at him “YOU LET OUR 5 YEAR OLD IN THE GARDEN IN THIS DARK???” She asked, maddened, before running to open the door, as she did so, she froze in her step.

“Happy Birthday babe~” Riki said with a mischievous smile as he back-hugged her. Both kids were there with Heeseung, the boys, Riki’s parents. A beautiful birthday cake, and the most ethereal view she had ever seen, her eyes on the beautiful pink lanterns flying up, along with balloons. “God I hate that I can’t stay mad at you” she pouted as Riki kissed her nose.

✧𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓✧

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 2 years

Note

hiii

do you know about any looong slowburn sterek fics preferably with smut? optional magic stiles👀

hehe thank you❤️

Hi anon. @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Actions Speak Louder Than Words by isthatbloodonhisshirt (25/25 | 434,625 | Explicit | Sterek) “I apologize.” The cop finally looked back up at his face, seeming thrilled. “It’s just—it’s been so long. And we finally have you.”

That was a bad word. Not found.

Have.

Stiles wrenched his hand free and took a step back, but before he could even think up a gameplan, he felt a prick in his neck and jerked away, reaching up to slap one hand against it and twisting in the same moment.

One of the others had come up behind him while he hadn’t been paying attention, and his vision began to swim even as his eyes caught sight of the half-empty syringe the guy was holding.

Put Down in Words by paintedrecs (31/31 | 203,776 | Mature | Sterek) “Oh,” Stiles said, his voice coming out low and breathy, “fuck me.”

“I don’t think that’s on the syllabus, but we can check to see if there’s a spot open in any of his classes,” Scott said, grinning.

“This isn’t an actual professor, though,” Stiles insisted, unable to resist brushing his thumb over the sharp line of the man’s bearded jaw. He was laughing at something off-camera, the shot taken in three-quarters view, his coat collar casually rumpled and opened to reveal a sliver of a simple grey t-shirt. The whole thing was deliberately calculated to lend him a more accessible feel, and god help him, Stiles was falling for it.

When Stiles signed up for Dr. Hale’s intro to history class, he had two goals: knock out the credits his advisor was bugging him to complete before he graduated, and spend a few hours a week daydreaming about his sexy professor’s salt and pepper beard.

Derek, a few months away from turning forty and not sure when his life had started feeling so damn lonely, had never encountered someone like Stiles before. Bright-eyed, sharp-tongued, determined to throw Derek’s carefully cultivated world into disarray…and absolutely the last person Derek should be falling in love with.

Most (Im)Proper Proposal by Welsh_Woman (72/72 | 200,136 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski has not seen his childhood friend for going on ten years when Derek Hale insists on meeting him in a barely reputable inn to make a rather startling proposal…

The Hollow Moon by thepsychicclam (10/10 | 180,079 | Explicit | Sterek) It's the summer after Stiles' first year of college, and he's working a crappy job and dealing with nightmares and anxiety - but he's okay, he swears. He makes it through most days without too much trouble. Then, a certain werewolf comes back into town. Which Stiles doesn't care about, nope, not at all.

After two and a half years, Derek returns to Beacon Hills with his small Pack. Though he tried to move on, something just kept drawing him back to Beacon Hills, he's just not sure what. Now, he figures he can start building something like a life - but he keeps getting distracted by Stiles Stilinski of all people.

Teenage Love Song by HaleHathNoFury (26/26 | 155,834 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles is sick and tired of how much he fucks up. His dad is disappointed, his step-mom judges and his step-brother can do no wrong. It's not that he doesn't love them, he just gets so tired of being different. Now he's being moved lock, stock and barrel to Beacon Hills aka the town his mom grew up in so they can go live in his grandma's house and his father can get him back on the straight and narrow.

It's going to suck.

B.E.A.C.O.N. by Mythological_Compendium (43/43 | 140,691 | Explicit | Sterek) "What better situation could there possibly be? We'll be pretty much stuck together, we can talk, drink and maybe later even…”

A scoff. “What? Have reunion sex?”

He shrugs. “It's been four years.”

Same Old Song and Dance by Halevetica (91/91 | 125,721 | Explicit | Sterek) Raised in the hunter life after his father was killed, Stiles hates werewolves. So when he lands a contract to kill the alpha of the pack that killed his father, he's elated. Until he runs into complications. The alpha is smart and strong and playing a game Stiles can't figure out. When secrets are revealed and new enemies made, Stiles must decide for himself what side he's on and who he can trust.

Bruises and Bitemarks by orphan_account (27/27 | 121,566 | Explicit | Sterek) Biologically, Stiles is weak. When he presented as an omega, he knew that to be the truth but that never stopped him from running his mouth as a defense mechanism. However, it could only save him so many times before he ended up pissing off the wrong person. After he's attacked in the parking lot outside of school, Stiles realizes he can no longer protect himself with just pure wit and sarcasm. When the attack lands him in the hospital, his dad forces him to pick between two options, report the alphas who attacked him or join a kickboxing gym run by omega rights activist and alpha, Derek Hale, a man Stiles has been in love with for many years.

Strip by Fessst (23/23 | 117,194 | Explicit | Sterek) "Singletail whip. Your favorite, isn't it?"

Red. Stiles felt nauseated as he bent over the bench. Red. The tremble only increased when his wrists and ankles were secured with leather straps. Red. He heard the Dom behind him give a sample crack of the whip in the air. Red. This would likely pierce his skin. So fucking Red.

"What's your safeword?"

Red.

"Stiles?"

"The... the stoplights, Sir."

Stiles's first introduction to the world of BDSM was a complete fiasco. You see, he had a crush on this ridiculously hot Dom and might have slightly exaggerated (ahem, lied blatantly) a few things on his questionnaire. Five years later the two meet again under a different set of circumstances.

A rare Alphahole by Fessst (27/27 | 110,538 | Mature | Sterek) Weed sale goes wrong and leaves Stiles with a dilemma of either facing prison or enrolling himself in Beta Rehabilitation Program for the next 6 months.

Anything beats prison, right?

Well...

Once he finds out that his assigned Responsible Alpha is the asshole who landed him in trouble, to begin with, Stiles is not so sure anymore. Especially since he has to fucking marry the guy!

the trees call your name by spaceprincessem (2/2 | 107,656 | Mature | Sterek) “That was a long time ago,” Derek finally said, his face falling into its usual cool facade.

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Two worlds, right? Except, it had never really been two worlds at all. If they lived in two worlds, Stiles wouldn’t feel this unexplainable ache that ran deep in his bones. It had always been one world, with water slipping into the cracks, until there was an ocean between them. Stiles was always caught in the riptides, dragged out to sea where he was left to drown, sinking below the surface as Derek grew further and further out of his reach.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, forcing his lips to turn up in the corners, noting the slight crack in his voice, “long time ago."

aka the high school friends to lovers ranch au that no one asked for, but the one that i wrote anyway. This fic is finished, I will just be posting it in two parts!

Far From Any Road by doctorkaitlyn (28/28 | 103,835 | Explicit | Sterek) Stiles Stilinski is a young, chronically sleep-deprived detective who's manipulative and morally dubious at best. He's fairly certain that, in the years since he started working for the California Bureau of Investigation, he's seen most of the horrible things that the world could possibly throw at him.

But that's before a body turns up in an alley in Beacon Hills, brutally tortured, with a symbol burned into its back. It's quickly followed by a second and third, and when Stiles is unable to find any hint as to who the culprits might be, his father decides to bring in some outside help.

His name is Derek Hale, and he too has seen some truly horrible things, only some of them on the job.

Stiles hates him immediately. But Derek may be their only hope for solving the case, so Stiles reluctantly agrees to accept his help.

As it turns out, neither of them have seen anything close to the depths of human depravity that await them in the woods and down the back roads surrounding Beacon Hills.

All a Pack Needs is a Little Spark by thornconnelly (21/21 | 82,884 | Mature | Sterek) Fork in the road fix-it that basically changes everything starting... an hour before the show actually starts. idk.

Stiles has a premonition that he NEEDS to go into the forest on a random night and saves Laura before Peter can kill her. Stiles doesn't know what he's gotten himself into, but he decides to help out the stray dog he finds in the woods, and then ends up joining a werewolf pack... as their Spark... because apparently he's got magic.

What ensues is my whole-hearted desire for the Hales to have nice things.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #magic!stiles #anon

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