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yikesharringrove · 3 years ago

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Egg the Cat

Chapter 1

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“Egg! Dinner!”

Steve shook the container of dry food. The sound usually had Egg sprinting into him, yelling loudly through the house for her food.

But she wasn’t coming.

“Eggy!” He shook it again, heading out of the kitchen to see if maybe she couldn’t quite hear it.

But still, no screeching, no pattering of little paws.

“ Egg! ” He was beginning to feel, not good.

She always came. Usually didn’t even let Steve out of her sight.

He put down the container, racing up the stairs.

He tore apart his bed, hoping to find big eyes staring at him, hoping to hear disgruntled mewing.

“Egg, where are you girl?”

Billy kicked at a rock on the side of the road.

The sun was beginning to set as he meandered down the main street, looking at the pitiful downtown.

They had arrived a few days ago, spending all that time unpacking the moving truck, setting up their little house.

Fuck Hawkins.

He hated being landlocked.

Hated being stuck in a shitty town.

Hated that three days in, three days, and his dad has already taken his keys, has already slammed him against several of the walls in that house, has already kicked him out for the evening.

He kicked the rock as hard as he could down an alleyway.

He was met with a fucking scream.

“Uh, hello?” It sounded like, like a kid was down there.

He was cautious, squinting into the shadowed alley.

There was another shriek, and then yellow eyes peering at him.

“ Oh .”

It was a cat, a tiny little black cat.

It yelled again.

“Loud baby, aren’t ya.” He crouched down, let the cat sniff around him. It had a collar on, and Billy got a look at the name. Egg Harrington.

“Okay, who names a fucking cat Egg .” The cat looked at him. Meowing softly.

He scooped it up, setting back down main street.

“Egg!”

Steve didn’t give a fuck anymore.

He had his head sticking out his driver’s side window, driving slowly through town with his headlights as bright as possible, yelling her name.

He was far beyond panicked, he had settled nicely in losing his shit.

He needed to find her, needed to find her before someone else-some thing else- found her.

He pulled over abruptly, parking his car. His baseball bat was tucked in his backpack as he set off on foot, armed with two flashlights and lots of batteries.

The sun had set, and Steve was out here, looking for a black cat in the dark.

“Egg! Please just come here. Come home with me, Honey, come on!”

He looked down each alleyway, shouting his head off like a fucking lunatic.

But he had to find her.

He had called Nancy to help him look, nearly in tears over the phone, begging for her to come out with him, only to be met with a flimsy excuse of watching her sister after dinner.

He couldn’t really fault her, as he had to get out and search for his girl.

He slumped against the diner wall, itching for a cigarette. But he had promised Nancy he’d quit, hadn’t had one in months. He settled for coffee, pushing his way into the diner.

The waitress smiled brightly at him. Her name was Sylvia. She’d worked here since Steve was a kid.

“Just you, Hun?”

“Yeah, Sylvia. Thanks.” She led him to a booth, tucked back in the corner.

“Weird to see you here before midnight. You gonna actually get some food tonight?” The all-night diner had been Steve’s go to sanctuary for coffee after a particularly shitty nightmare.

Which meant he was in there a few times a week.

“Probably not. I’m just out looking for-”

His heart fucking stopped.

He heard her.

He heard his Egg.

Her yells were unmistakable, and he whipped around, saw her wriggling and writhing in some guy’s arms. She was looking right at Steve with those big yellow eyes, pupils wide and round.

Steve didn’t even register himself moving, just slid his arms around Egg, and held her close to his chest, burying his face in her fur.

She purred loudly, relaxing immediately against him.

“I take it you’re the fucker that named him Egg .”

Steve blinked slowly, finally registering who he had stolen his cat back from.

“Named her Egg.” The guy just raised one sharp eyebrow.

Yeah, Steve has never seen this guy in his life.

He’d remember if he had.

“Still a dumb name.”

“I was a kid, okay?” The guy just studied him for a bit, before his face cracked, smirk settling on his lips.

“She’s cute.” Steve smiled back, settled himself in the booth opposite. “Loud as all fuck.”

“Yeah, she’s always been a yeller.” Steve leaned over the table, holding out his hand. “I’m Steve Harrington.”

“Billy Hargrove.”

Billy shook his hand.

Steve Harrington.

Billy liked his name.

Well, honestly, he’d probably like any name as long as it was attached to this guy. Billy shook his head.

None of that here.

“Thanks for taking care of her.” Steve was looking down at Egg, scratching between her ears.

She was perched on his lap, looking up at him like he was the whole world.

It was the softest shit Billy had ever seen.

“She’s sweet. Lost her damn mind when she saw you, though.” And then warm brown eyes were back on Billy, and it was genuinely difficult not to cow under them.

“We’re very best friends.” Steve’s smile was sunshine. Just as warm and bright as his stupid fucking eyes. His stupid cheeks had a smattering of moles on them. Billy could see them dotting his neck too.

He wrenched his eyes away from them.

“That’s a little bit lame there, Harrington.” Billy couldn’t bring himself to call him Steve.

He’s not allowed to be on first name basis with this guy.

Steve raised one eyebrow, pursing his perfect pink lips-

Fucking come on, Billy. Don’t look at the fucker’s lips.

“How very rude of you. I’ll inform you, I used to be hot shit at the old high school.”

“You graduated?”

“No, I’m a senior. Just, you know, not hot shit anymore. Cold shit.” Billy barked a laugh, the cat looking wildly at him.

“Fuckin’ cold shit .” He shook his head, fiddling with the laminated menu in front of him. “I’m gonna be a junior. Just like, by the way.”

“You new in town?” Steve smiled brightly at the waitress as she poured him a cup of coffee. Billy wrinkled his nose as he proceeded to dump sugar into it, rounding it off with four creams.

Billy just kept his plain.

“Moved here a few days ago. From California.”

“Jesus, why ?” Egg was currently staring back at Steve, pawing at his stomach.

Billy’s heart nearly fell outta his asshole as Steve lifted up the hem of his sweatshirt, Egg tucking herself close to his body as he pulled it back down.

He had smooth pale skin. Had even more fuckin’ moles, and sweet God, the fucking hair. His happy trail was dark, sinking down into the waistband of his jeans.

Billy’s mouth was dry.

Egg meowed softly from under his sweater.

“My, uh, my dad remarried. He wanted to have a fresh start, or whatever.”

“No, I just mean, why here? This town is a shithole.”

“Yeah, I could see that.” Steve kicked him under the table. Billy ignored the way his stomach flopped.

“Don’t be rude .”

“You just said it was a shithole.”

“I’ve lived here my whole life. I’m allowed to say that.” Steve broke off a small piece of one of Billy’s strips of bacon, holding it down the collar of his sweater.

Egg meowed at him, no doubt taking the bacon.

“Besides, you didn’t answer my question. Why here ?” Billy shrugged.

He doesn’t really think telling Steve the truth would completely fly.

After all, his dad’s a lot smarter than Billy has ever wanted to give him credit for.

“Something about small towns having nice communities.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, they’re nice until everyone talks shit behind your back.” He picked off another piece of bacon, dropping it down his sweatshirt as well. His tone had shifted, his body slumping forward a little bit. The cat in his sweatshirt squirmed a little.

“You say that like you know from experience.” Steve shot him a glare.

“Remember how I said I’ve lived here my whole life?” He rolled his coffee mug between his hands.

“That bad, huh?” Steve shrugged.

“Might be better for you.”

“Doubt it.”

Steve’s sweater gave a sharp mreow. He put one hand against her, jostling her like one would a baby.

“I should get her home. She needs dinner.” He pulled out the neck of his sweater, smiling at the cat in there. “Thank you for taking care of her. Scared the shit outta me when I realized she was gone.” Billy’s breath caught in his chest when Steve looked back at him. “Let me pay for your dinner.”

Billy had the no ready on his lips, but Steve was already digging into his wallet, pulling out a crisp twenty, placing it under his mug.

He stood up, holding beneath the lump still in his sweatshirt, cradling Egg close to him as she curled tighter.

“Thanks again. I really woulda lost my shit if anything bad had happened to her.” And he gave Billy another smile, one so sweet and full of fucking sunshine it only made him fucking ache for California.

Billy just nodded at him, pointedly didn’t look at his ass as he walked away.

Because his dad uprooted the whole family to deposit them here. Where Billy would probably be hunted like Frankenstein’s fuckin’ monster by an angry mob of villagers if he let himself look at other boys’ asses as they walked away.

He just finished his food.

Left the bacon Steve had picked pieces off of for last.

#i did it!#egg the cat #here she is #this whole ass fic about a fictional cat of a fictional character thanks #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #nice

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p4lparker · 3 years ago

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I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

For who knows what purpose, but still at four sacrifices, we were beginning to worry. I'd try to go through the school day- learning as normal, but all of my focus laid with a blurred face of a mutilated teenager. The next victim. Scott was worried, we had no idea who was behind this, and anyone could be next. Well not just anyone, only people who hadn't done the do just yet. I'd been keeping my eyes and ears peeled for any sign of a clue or something to help us protect people, but I had nothing. Stiles was working over drive, writing on his crime board and furiously trying to figure out a pattern or a way to put an end to it all. But no dice, and I could tell he was becoming increasingly upset by that. We were in his room. I watched as he wrote something on his board then wiped it off moments later, I watched as he tapped his pen against his teeth. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, he tugged at the ends and groaned from the lack of inspiration and partially the pain I'm guessing. I stayed studying him from my position on the bed.

"Hey, we'll work it out- don't worry.." I said to him, trying to soothe his obviously frayed nerves. As he turned d to face me; I took my chance to really look at him. His face was pale, his skin looking as if he were ill, the bags under his eyes looked as if they had bags. I could see the stubble decorating the bottom half of his face, him being so focused on trying to keep people alive- shaving had slipped his mind. I saw the rumpled clothes covering his body, as if he'd just grabbed them from the floor, I saw the twinkle that was usually in his chocolatey gaze- was missing. All in all, Stiles Stilinski was a mess.

"Yeah, we'll figure it out Y/N. But how many others have to die. Be sacrifices before we do. It might be someone we know next time... One of our friends! And we can’t do shit, cause we're a bunch of scared kids who are in over our heads. We can't protect anyone, especially not ourselves!" Was the snapped answer I received. I just stayed frozen in my place. My eyes wide and head angled back slightly in shock. I bit my lip, before I looked away from him. Not wanting him to see how hurt his words and tone of voice had made me feel. It was kind of lame, to be so upset by frustrated words; but Stiles had never, ever spoken to me like that. And it was a shock to the system to say the least. I looked down at the book in my lap, my fingers brushing against the page absent minded manner- trying to distract myself.

"You're right. I guess we should stop bothering then yeah? Let whatever it is take kids and murder them for no reason.. Other than them being virgins. Cause we're useless and can't win right?" I hissed, as an anger bubbled up inside me. Stiles had never spoken to me like that, and I wasn't going to let him start now. I let my eyes lift to watch as his shoulders tensed. “Maybe we should just throw all of this away and turn our backs on everything huh?” I stated, my voice getting stronger with each word- the anger fuelling me. As I shoved all of the books covering Stiles’ bed and my legs onto the floor. I stood up and stared at him-trying to prove a point before yanking up my bag and jacket. I flung open the door and stormed out. With each step I felt anger surging me further out of the house- it burned fiercely and forced me into my car, I drove myself home and settled in for the night. Slamming open the door, giving it the same treatment to close it. I stomped to my room- flinging clothes off as I went. Yanking on sleep clothes and throwing myself into bed for the night. I drifted off eventually, but it was into a fitful nights sleep.

The next morning I woke up in a similar mood to the one I went to bed in. I could still feel the rage simmering underneath my skin. Going through the motions of getting ready for the day; I soon arrived at school and was able to ignore Stiles in person, instead of just avoiding his messages and calls. Every chance I got, I avoided him. Not wanting to be near him until I calmed down. At the end of the day, he approached me cautiously; head bowed sheepishly, hands fidgeting with each other and his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. And it made my heart stutter at how he presented himself. His body language screamed that he was asking for forgiveness, and I thought I’d let him stew a little longer for my own selfish enjoyment before granting the reconciliation I’d already planned to give him. I looked at him from the corner of my eye and with my books and bag; waltzed from the building and to the parking lot. I smiled to myself as I rest against Stiles’ jeep and waited for him to make an appearance. I watched as he walked to the car, head still bowed and fingers still fidgeting- but now with the keys, he hadn’t noticed me yet.

“Stilinski!” I called, watching as his body jerked in surprise. His arms flying out to ward off an oncoming attacker; not that it would do much good. His head swinging up at a pace that obviously gave him a crick in his neck from the way he gripped it. His gaze was wide and worried until he spotted me leaning against the hood of the car. I smiled slightly and moved forwards until I could wrap my arms around him- the sadness on his face made me wish I could squeeze it from his body, once his own arms squeezed me back. I finally sighed and pulled back from him. Nodding my head to the car stood beside us, Stiles smiled slightly and let us both in. He drove us slowly to his house, and parked in the driveway before he led us both into the house. We dumped our bags by the end of his bed, when we finally made it to his room.

"Hey nerd, I forgive you. I get it. This whole sitch is messed up. And maybe you're right, maybe we can't help people or save them or protect them. But we can try!" I murmured as I noticed his hunched body. I ruffled his already messy hair as I walked past him on my way to throw myself at his computer. I let my fingers dance over the keys- I tried to delve into why virgins would be sacrificed. But at every turn I was stonewalled. Most of the websites or 'research' was made by hacks who were probably still in their Goth phase. It had been the same thing for the last hour. Either Stiles or I groaning in frustration, as we each hit another dead end in the research. We were getting nowhere and it was beginning to make me lose hope and my mind. I looked over to see Stiles slumped, his head hanging off the side of the bed and the book he was reading was lying on top of his head. He was defeated as his tired eyes looked up at me.

"Any luck?" He all but sighed out, gesturing to the computer behind me. I shook my head and he growled tugging at his hair. I stood from his desk chair and flopped onto the bed landing on him. He let out an 'Ooof' as I landed on his back. I giggled lightly before rolling off him and landing beside him with a bounce. He turned his face to look at my own. His eyes still looked sad, his whole demeanour was that of a stranger- and it was beginning to drive me crazier than the failed researching.

"Alright Stilinski. You're moping is making me want to punch you.. Spill." I stated poking his cheek with my finger, it following all of the freckles and moles that were scattered about his skin. He frowned before glaring at my prodding appendage.

"Gee, I don't think punching me will help. It would probably make me feel worse, I mean then I'd be in physical pain and I may even get a black eye or something, and that would just make my mood worse. Cause then I'd have to explain how I got beat up by you to everyone.. And that is just embarrassing..." Stiles began to ramble, his words flowing out of his mouth quickly, so quickly they made me dizzy. I cut him off before my head could explode by pressing my hand over his mouth and stopping his words escaping. His eyes were wide as I felt my own narrow. One of his eye lids dropped into a wink, which made me narrow my eyes further wondering what he had planned. Until I felt something wet settle into the palm of my hand and make a trail up it. I realised with a grimace, that it was his tongue. He'd licked my hand. He'd licked my hand like a 5th grader.

"Ewww! You licked me!" I called out, whipping my hand from his face in disgust. Stiles just smirked sticking his tongue out at me in victory. I glared at him before talking him from the bed all together. We rolled until we landed in a heap on the floor. As we tumbled, he’d miraculously managed to twist and turn until he was situated underneath me- it was impressive, and he let out another huff of air as it was forced from his body by my weight landing on him. I stared at him from above and smiled brightly at his slightly pained grimace- before shoving myself off of him and pulling him up after me.

“How about we watch a movie.. Forget about the research that is taking us nowhere for now and just relax. It looks like you need it..” I suggested pointing to the Tv in the room. I’d already decided what we’d watch, all I needed was for him to agree and to actually relax for a while; maybe then he’s tell me what was bugging him so much. He just stared at me and nodded, a faint smile painting his lips. I pushed all of the books onto the floor and from his comfy bed; much like I had done the night before, but this time I was slightly more gentle about it. I grinned and gestured for him to leave the room- meaning he was to make the popcorn whilst I set up in the bedroom. I watched as he walked from the room, he was muttering under his breath as he went. I smiled and set to making the bed comfy, I scanned the wrack of DVD’s on his walls grinning as the exact one I was looking for was in a prized position in the centre. Pulling it from the shelf and placing it delicately in the side of his TV- I let it play through until it got to the menu and selected the play movie section. I waited until he trundled back up the stairs and plonked himself down on the bed next to me. I heard a gasp and turned my head to face him, his face was covered in a broad grin- his eyes were lit up and sparkling, his teeth were showing and his dimples looked deeper than ever. Just looking at the happiness on his face was contagious, I couldn’t help but grin back at him. We both settled in for the movie, not long into it I noticed Stiles wasn’t as into it as he usually would be. And my mind drifted back to worrying for him. I gently gripped his hand between both of my own, squeezing softly.

“What’s wrong Robin?” I whispered softly, still squeezing his hand. He turned to look at me, but this time a grin wasn’t covering his face. A frown was; a deep frown that furrowed his eyebrows, one that made his chocolatey gaze appear muddy, one that made my heart ache slightly.

“I’m scared Y/N.” Was all he whispered back, I nodded and wrapped my arms around his shoulders- pulling him towards me and into a slightly awkward hug. I could hear him sigh softly, as his head rested on my shoulder. I wondered how I could make thing better for him, and my mind was coming up empty; his cool breath was causing goose-bumps to raise on the exposed skin. Biting my lip to ensure he couldn’t tell of the change in my body, I could feel the shivers wanting to wrack my body. Ignoring the feeling, and deciding to pull him closer to me- slipping one leg over his hips, one leg on each side of his hips. I let my arm circle around his shoulders, running my fingers through his growing hair- as he wrapped his arms around my waist and kept his head resting against my collarbone. “I’m terrified I’m next..” he whispered so lowly, I struggled to hear his words. I pulled back slightly, causing him to lift his head and look me directly in the eyes; his caramel gaze was solemn, and I thought I could see unshed tears shining within the depths.

“Scott wouldn’t let that happen. And neither would I…” I stated firmly, looking him in the eyes- I could feel the determined expression on my face. I watched as he shook his head, obviously not believing my words. I frowned, I would save him. I wouldn’t let anything happen to this beautiful boy I was wrapped around. An idea burst through my mind, and before I could comprehend my actions. His face was turned to the side, avoiding me- I moved my face in line with his own. Gently letting my lips press against his own softly; I could feel the uncertainty in his pouted lips, his head turning to face me once more. I pulled back slowly, looking to his frowned face to see his reaction. It was apparent after a couple minutes of silence and Stiles sitting completely still- which was a feat in itself, that he wasn’t going to make a move to either stop this or push it onwards. Taking in a deep breath, and settling my shaken resolve- I pressed forwards again. My lips pushed against his own, the fusion of our lips just as gentle as before. We kissed gently for what felt like eternity; neither of us pushing it, wanting to stay in that moment for as long as possible- lips moving with each other delicately. Our lips parted for seconds- allowing for breath, but they soon met again. It was like were both addicted to one another’s lips; his were plump and smooth, as they danced with my own. Stiles left a lingering kiss on my mouth, pulling back just slightly.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He whispered, his plush lips brushing against my own with every word he spoke- sending my mind fuzzy with the sensation, I tried to concentrate on what he’d said; but my mind was spinning quickly and slowly all at once.

“I’m kissing you.” I stated simply, before pushing my lips that last millimetre to meet his own. I wasn’t sure what he made of my response, but he didn’t stop kissing me. His hold on my waist was tight, his large hands squeezing gently, holding me to him as if he was worried I’d disappear. Shifting myself in his lap to get more comfortable, my centre coming into contact with his own. A whiny moan escaped our lips, I wasn’t sure who it came from- but it seemed like the sound had flicked some kind of switch in my brain. Gasping as his lips left my own, grazing over my chin and down to the skin of my neck. He pressed a kiss on the column- as if testing out some scientific theory, pulling back to see my reaction. I could feel my eyes were closed, and my mouth was open in a silent moan. He surged forwards and let his lips trace kisses down the delicate skin- leading towards my collarbone. When he made contact with the skin there, I let out the moan that was desperately clawing at my vocal chords to be released. He chuckled against my skin, before pressing one last kiss to it- his lips searching for my own. Finding their home against them, and pulling me into a passionate kiss. His tongue poking out to tickle against my bottom lip, I giggled at the feeling and let him in. Letting him map out my mouth, his tongue touching and tasting- dancing with my own. My fingers tangled themselves in his soft hair, pressing him more firmly against me.

His dexterous fingers traced over my sides, before settling on my hips- he pushed me down further onto him. Unconsciously pushing my hips back and forth on him, giving us both a delicious friction that had me wanting more; but I remembered this was for him. But as things progressed, I realised I needed this too. I needed to feel him and see him come undone- passion and lust shining on his face as euphoria washed over him. Pulling my fingers from his hair, settling them on his shoulders- feeling the soft material of his checked shirt beneath my excited fingers; I pushed the material to fall from his broad shoulders, revealing the white cotton t-shirt beneath. I pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes, tugging gently on his over shirt until it reached his wrists; he promptly let go of my hips, allowing me to pull it from his hands, letting my fingers wander to the hem of his t-shirt- I gently tugged it up. Stiles got the message, and aided me in pulling it up his lean torso; with each centimetre of skin that was revealed, I could see the smooth skin, taut and lean over the visible muscles- which jumped when my fingers made contact. Stiles tried to reach up and connect our lips again, but I denied him in favour of just staring at him. His pale skin, unmarked and tempting. His lean frame, tucking in towards his waist but broadening at his shoulders, his biceps bunched slightly as they gripped at my own t-shirt. His veiny forearms; which had stared in many of my day dreams, leading down to his nimble fingers. I could see a faint blush lighting his speckled cheeks, when I turned my glance to his face. Hi bottom lip was being wet by his tongue as it poked out of his mouth. I could feel his fingers delving under the fabric of my top, discovering the skin of my stomach. He tugged slightly at the material, and I lifted my arms above my head; allowing him to remove the top and drop it next to our bodies. His fingers traced over the skin softly, so softly it tickled and caused a giggle to bubble from my lips. He smiled at the reaction, before pressing his fingertips more firmly into the skin- he tickled me quicker, causing our joined laughter to ring out and drown the sounds from the tv playing in the background.

I pushed my lips to his, distracting his fingers from their task. They still rest against my waist and hips, but had ceased their movements; as his lips took over the movements. One of his hands runs up my body and lands on my neck- his thumb bracing my jaw as our lips move in synchronicity. I let my fingers trail over his torso; feeling the soft, smooth skin, tracing them further down until they rest against the buckle of his belt. I slipped the leather through the metal and let it fall open, before gently wiggling the button of his jeans through the hole- dragging the zip down it’s track. Stroking over the band of his boxers delicately- it was then that he gasped and pulled back from my lips; his caramel eyes dark with lust, holding a look of uncertainty as he stared from his open trousers and my eager hand- to my face.

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“I’m going to make you feel good..” I muttered against his lips, before pushing gently on his chest. Forcing him to lie on the bed he was sat on- I lifted myself from his slightly and heard a disappointed groan erupt from him. I looked up at his face, before dropping my lips to the skin I was desperate to touch. Kissing over his neck, biting at it and sucking a mark into his skin- proving he was mine. Before trailing lower, grazing over his chest- licking at the lines of his body. Gradually dipping over the definition on his stomach, licking lower until it traced over the waistband of his boxers. I placed my fingers in the front pockets of his jeans and tugged them down; them getting stuck on his hips, and thighs, and finally his knees. I struggled to pull them from his body for laughing so hard- his chuckles joined my own as he raised his hips and manoeuvred his legs around to help me. Once I had the material in my hands, I huffed out a breath before throwing the fabric away as if it offended me. Stiles was leaning up on his elbows and watching as I tossed the jeans away from me- sticking my tongue out as they went sailing across the room. I turned to face him again; and gasped at the sight of him, sat there and waiting for me to join him once more. I moved back over to him, straddling him once more and connecting our lips. He was more confident now, and let his own tongue play with mine quickly, I rest my weight on one hand before allowing my other to feel over his heated skin. Finally coming to a stop at the bulge in his boxers, pressing against it lightly- only to feel his jolt up to meet it more fully. I squeezed him through the thin fabric, trying to get used to the size of him with my hand. A needy whine bubbled from his throat, that made my hand take hold of him through the material and pump him gently. A strangled sound came from him, as wetness leaked onto the fabric and my hand slightly- a wetness pooled in my own underwear at the desperate sounds he was making.

Palming him with one hand, and letting the other pull at the waistband of his boxers- tugging them down and letting him spring free. His cock resting on his stomach heavily- drops of pre-come leaking from the pink tip, the colour almost matching the dusting on his cheeks. I cast my eyes back up his body- seeing his almost black eyes focused solely on me; watching me marvel at him and his nakedness. Not being able to hold back any longer- my tongue licked up the underside of him- tracing along the prominent vein, feeling every ridge before licking over the head. All I could hear was growling and groaning from above me; my eyes rolled up to watch him. His eyes were screwed shut tightly, his bottom lip was being bitten by his teeth and his arm was thrown over his forehead- fist clenched in mid-air, his other was fisting the sheets. I opened my lips, holding him at the base and slipped him inside.

“Oooh..” Stiles whined out. I let him get used to the feeling of being wrapped in my mouth, I gently sucked the head- and was rewarded with more pre-come leaking out onto my waiting tongue. I slowly slipped my lips further over him, taking more of him into my waiting mouth. Bobbing up and down his heavy cock slowly, the parts of him I couldn’t fit into my greedy mouth, I massaged with my hand. My pace quickened just slightly, moving over him at a steady rate. Tasting him more and more as he leaked, I flickered my eyes back up his body as my mouth moved up and down him. His hands were flapping in the air- almost awkwardly, and his eyes were wide staring down at me in wonder, his mouth was dropped open as noises continued to fall from his pouted lips. Growls, groans, moans and whines. All eliciting my own moans as I continued my work, I pulled from him slowly with a pop. Grabbing onto his hand- with the one of mine that wasn’t rubbing over him- and tangling his delicious fingers with my hair, securing it there before moving my lips back over him; his answering whine was needy and made me push myself further down on him before coming back up at a quicker pace. I could feel him thrusting into my mouth, trying to match pace- but he was struggling his lips stuttering when the pleasure got to much- our rhythm didn’t match, but from the desperate calls coming from him I wasn’t sure he minded entirely. His hips jolted more quickly, forcing himself further into my mouth; my throat gagging on him slightly, swallowing the tip of him- I let him thrust into my mouth until finally he filled my mouth with a loud shout. Swallowing his taste down, I moved up his cock gently- knowing he’d be sensitive until he left my lips softly.

I stared down at him; his chest heaving, stomach muscles twitching rapidly as he panted in and out. I watched his face, still scrunched in pleasure and slick with sweat, then I let my eyes drop lower to look at his still erect cock. I felt my eyes widen, a smile tugging at my lips to see him so eager and ready; resting hard and heavy against his lower stomach. I stood from my knees, Stiles opened his eyes and watched; as I reached behind me, flicking the clasp of my bra open, I slid one strap down one shoulder- then the other and let the fabric cage fall from my chest. I watched as Stiles sat up fully; his hungry eyes wandering all over the newly expose flesh, devouring the sight before him. Moving my hands to the fastening on my jeans and popping the button, forcing the zip down its track. And pushing the jeans over my hips and bottom; bending at the hips and tracing them down my legs- all the while not taking my eyes from Stiles’ awe-struck face. I was stood before him in some owl printed underwear; but I wasn’t embarrassed, I had never felt more sexy- than that moment with his desperate eyes tracing over my near bare body. Slipping my thumbs in the elasticated waistband and tugging them from my body- I stood before the Stillinski boy completely naked. His eyes were still wide and dark, and he raised his hands for me. I intertwined our fingers as he pulled me over him- legs either side of his waiting body. Pressing his eager lips against my own and beginning another bout of endless kissing; soft and gentle, yet hard and passionate all at the same time, it was confusing and addictive. I let my fingers find his weighty member again, stroking him up and down- moving him between our bodies. He was poised in front of my folds, I raised myself up; preparing to plunge him deep within me, completely lost in the moment. Stiles ripped his lips from me, panting and staring at me surprised.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

“I’m protecting you..” I mumbled, pressing a kiss to his pouted lips. Pulling away from him slightly, I stood from the bed and stumbled over to his bedside table; my trembling hands searched for the protection we needed- the protection I had almost forgotten in the rush of Stiles Stilinski. I stared down into the open drawer; desperate eyes searching in an almost panic. Before calming with my racing heart and laboured breathing as they spotted; and untouched and unopened package, extra large and waiting. Furiously ripping into the box and digging one out; I tore the foil packaging open before stumbling back to Stiles who was waiting on the bed. I pushed back on his chest again, sliding one of my legs over his hips and kneeling above him. I watched as he breathed out a shaky breath, my fingers finding his already leaking cock once more. Pulling the latex from the foil, I rolled it down him almost impatiently. Once he was covered and we were safe, I positioned him between us once more. Rubbing the head of him between my folds and gathering the wetness that was dripping down my thighs and onto his lap. His eyes were wide, and one of his fingers rubbed through the moisture that had leaked from my centre curiously. I held my position, his cock almost pressing into me- as he raised that hand to his face. He rubbed his thumb and fingertip together, as if testing the consistency of the liquid. I giggled slightly and his eyes widened to the point I was worried they’d pop from his face.

“Is this from you? Are you..w-wet?!” He asked amazed, as he watched me grin and nod my head. Before my brain could keep up with his movements; his fingers were pushing his cock out of the way and delving into my folds themselves. They played with the moisture gathered, smoothing it all around my core. Making me moan loudly and embarrassingly. His face was full of wonder as he continued to feel around within me, his fingers coming into contact with the sensitive bud within. The tip of his finger tickled at it inquisitively, rubbing experimentally in circles. I groaned and ground my hips onto his hand eagerly. The sounds of lightsabers colliding in the back ground was drowned out by the sound of his laughter.

“You’re really wet.. Wow.” He mumbled almost to himself, I laughed to, moaning towards the end of it as his fingers picked up their pace. It took all I had to grip onto his wrist and stop his movements; when all I wanted was to sub myself against him until I could feel myself quiver from the pleasure. I breathed out shakily, before pushing his hand away from my centre- I let my other hand pick up his heavy cock once more- positioning him at my entrance. Before surging down on him slowly. A strangled whine came from the beautiful, blissful boy beneath me. My mouth dropped open in a silent moan; a wide ‘O’ shape as he bottomed out within me. I held still, moments pacing as I could feel him pulse inside me; trying to get used to the feeling. I let him settle, before lifting up from him slightly- pushing myself down onto him slowly. Moving at a pace to allow us both the most pleasure, and to allow him to become accommodated with being within someone. Grinding my hips slowly in circles, his hands grasped at my neck- one cupping my jaw and the other pulling on the back of it. Forcing my lips to his in a desperate kiss, and manipulating my body so I was flush against him. Stomach to stomach. Chest to chest. Lips against lips. Kissing furiously as my hips rode him at a leisurely pace. One of his hands slipped from my neck, sliding down my body and squeezing at my naked ass- palming at the fleshy cheek; before sliding back up my body and giving my breast the same treatment. It was then I was forced to move quicker on him, forcing my hips to canter forwards and backwards; pushing us both closer towards the edge.

As our pace increased, our kiss broke. His mouth was wide open and he was groaning uncontrollably, I knew it wouldn’t take too much longer until he would be spent. I pushed my body up, hands resting against his heaving chest; before I pushed my hips as quickly as I could, whines slipping from my mouth to match his. Stiles, lifted his hips and thrust into me.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

Before his hips stuttered and he called out loudly, his cock pulsing within me- and he was filling the condom. I continued to ride him through it, trying to prolong that feeling of ecstasy for him. Once he’d finished, his hands gripped at my hips and ceased their slow grinding. He was breathing quickly, his breath fanning against my sweaty skin- cooling it instantly, before heating it up again as his fingers caressed over it. We laid in silence for a few moments, neither of us moving- apart from Stiles connecting out hands and intertwining our fingers mid-air.

“Oh my God!” He murmured out. I smiled down at him, his face was red and covered in sweat; but I didn’t mind, it made him more beautiful to me, I’d just seen him experience euphoria, and it was all because of me. “Oh Jesus.. Th-that was amazing..” He laughed, a grin beaming from his tired face, I just nodded and squeezed his hands. “Wait.. You didn’t y’know.. finish?” Stiles stated, his face morphing from a gorgeous grin to a frown- that almost hurt my heart. I smiled gently and shook my head at him. Stiles’ face was set in a scowl, and he pushed his lips against my own- kissing me heatedly, making my pulse rise quickly. I was too wrapped up in the feeling of his lips almost bruising my own; to notice that he’d let one of my hands drop. And his fingers were working themselves between us. I didn’t know what was happening until I felt his fingers press and circle at the neglected bud with my still slicked folds, I was still wet- and getting wetter by the second as his fingers played with my core. He was experimenting mostly; seeing what would happen if he moved in a certain, figuring out which movement of his fingers would make me moan the loudest. Soon enough under his attentions, I was grinding myself into his hand- he was rubbing me to my end quickly and efficiently. Soon enough my hips were jerking quickly against his hand; quivering as I came. I whined as I felt the shocks running through my body. I breathed heavily into Stile’s neck, coming down from my high- he ran a hand through my sweaty and knotty hair,. “That’s better..” Stiles whispered, before dropping a kiss to my head. He held my hands again, supporting my weight on his elbows and helped me to roll from his body in shaky knees. When I was situated, he sat up on the bed, with his legs falling over the side. He pulled the filled condom from himself and disposed of it in the bin by his desk.

He picked up his marvel printed boxers and tugged them on, before grabbing onto his red plaid shirt I’d discarded earlier. When he came back to the bed, he helped me to pull the shirt onto my tired but satisfied body, before tugging me back to him. Wrapping his arms around me and snuggling me close to his body- pulling the covers over both of us as we cuddled in silence.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

“I told you I’d save you.” I whispered as I watched him doze into a peaceful sleep, following not too long after him. Cuddled close to his body, with his mouth pressed against my hair. Stiles was safe, and that was all I could ask for.

#repost #stiles x reader #stiles smut #stiles stilinski #stiles fanfiction #stiles x y/n

102 notes · View notes

deniigi · 4 years ago

Note

my supervisor fucked me over with all my other coworkers present. can I request a one shot from you to cheer me up featuring Sammy?

Did I give y’all the fic about the hotpot?

Well if I didn’t, I’m giving it to you now.

Title: hotpot

Summary: Ganke checks the comments for the Blindspot comic daily and there’s this one asshole anon who keeps talking shit about BT.

The Blindspot comic went live in the fall and Ganke couldn’t stop checking the hit count every five seconds. All night there had only been ten hits.

He told himself not to be disappointed. The only person who really mattered had read and loved the comic.

Miles said that BT had even forced everyone on the team to read an abridged version of Journey to the West, and had gone as far as to make a quiz to determine everyone’s character.

Miles refused to disclose who he’d gotten.

BT had clearly rigged the game to make himself Sun Wukong and Ganke was proud of him.

That kind of enthusiasm was exactly what he’d been hoping for, anything else now was just icing on the cake.

Even though it would be cool if it wasn’t just BT reading his own comics.

That would be pretty cool, right? Like. If people online all started reading BT’s comic. That would be sort of amazing.

Kind of excellent.

Definitely worthy of an A+ and double pats on the back.

Right?

The hit counter didn’t think so. But hey, five more people had opened the page since last night. That was something, wasn’t it?

MM: dude why not just ask Sam to tweet out the link?

How dare you, Miles Morales.

How dare you waltz into this place with logical thought.

GL: I can’t do that. That’s like. Idk. Inflating the views.

MM: okay yeah explain to me how appealing to the person in control of the largest part of his own fandom is inflating the views

GL: I see your logic and I’m banishing it

MM: I’m messaging him

GL: DON’T

MM: too late

MM: he says ‘gimme link’

GL: asdksjsjdks

@blindspot: hi I know y’all can’t get enough of me to the point of asking shockingly invasive questions and for you I say good news! Some amazing folks have gone through the trouble of making a Blindspot comic. it’s good guys check it out [link]

It helped.

A lot.

It helped a lot.

People, on the whole, had great things to say. The panels were screenshotted and tagged and sent all over social media and even though Miles was pretending to be chill and aloof about the whole thing, Ganke could imagine him smiling big and bright and white at his phone non-stop.

Mom and Auntie saw a few of the bits on Twitter and tittered over them in the kitchen like pigeons.

The pride rose like a wave. Ganke kept waiting for the crash.

It came two days later in the form of a comment that read ‘Christ, look at all this fuss. BT is fine. I hate his brother.’

It felt like someone punching the wind out of Ganke’s lungs.

He took comfort in the handful of people who leapt in to shout down the commenter. They emphasized that if the anonymous commenter didn’t like the story or the characters, then they didn’t have to read it and they, especially, didn’t have to say anything about it.

Ganke appreciated those guys. He got the feeling that a lot of the people on there knew that the whole thing had been done but a couple of kids.

Not that Anon cared.

Anon replied to all these comments ‘No, I’m gonna keep reading, thanks. Anyways, the brother is lame. The smart part is cool, but why’s it always gotta be a guy?’

The part that haunted Ganke even after he’d shut his laptop and had gone to stick his head out the window for some big breaths of cleansing air was that Anon was kind of right.

GL: should we have made Guotin’s brother a sister?

MM: no

GL: why not?

MM: cause BT’s always wanted a brother

Oh.

Okay. Then it was fine?

MM: yeah man ignore them. it’s chill.

GL: k thanks my ego is huge and fragile

MM: trust me I know

Asshole. Fine, moving right along.

It didn’t stop. Anon commented on every page. Every. Single. Page.

Ganke didn’t know what to do or say. On the one hand, clearly this person was dedicated and deeply engaged with the comic, on the other hand, they needed a Rude Alert button. Ganke wondered if Ned could code one for them and them only.

The latest of their fury was directed at the big reveal in the second issue—BT’s face.

Having now met Sam, BT, Blindspot, Ganke’s whole image of him had changed.

He was not conventionally attractive as far as like, K-Pop idols and famous Chinese dudes went. His eyes were puffy and narrow and his face was round everywhere but the jaw. He leaned more towards ‘cute’ than ‘sexy,’ which Ganke sort of loved about him.

He was friendly. Stressed and grumpy and feisty as hell, yeah, but first and foremost friendly.

Miles claimed that he called it his ‘number one asset in employability.’ Which was wild because hello, Blindspot.

Obviously, BT couldn’t help his face. But Miles and Ganke could help Guotin’s.

Ganke had sent Miles about fifteen different images of Chinese celebrities and had told him to do his worst. They’d reviewed the final few drafts and had picked one that was most like a young Chen Kun. His face was more oval-shaped than BT’s. His chin and lips were slimmer but more defined. He was pretty, but not so pretty as to be called ‘feminine,’ which Ganke thought was a solid compromise between ‘handsome as sin’ and ‘looks like he’s got a quirky sense of humor.’

Anon hated him.

Anon thought that he looked like an idol, and they were not here for it.

They told ‘the artist’ to give him a mole or something, anything to make him look ‘less pristine. God, I can smell him from here and he smells like Dior and staph habitat.’

Ganke had to look up what a staph infection was. He regretted it. He asked Miles if they should censor Anon.

Miles said ‘mmmmm, idk it’s not like they aren’t saying anything that isn’t true.’

Ganke resented that. Clearly this was defamation of BT. This person hated him and was taking their feeling out on the comic.

MM: I mean yeah but it’s not like they’re talking about the comic, man. They’re talking about the style and like, thinking about it, a mole or smth to help you tell him apart from other folks would kind of be helpful. Like, especially if we ever put him in a crowd, you know?

HHHHHH.

Fine.

Anon could stay. But they were on thin ice.

It was hard not to be bitter about Anon’s comments, especially when they arrived daily, as though Anon knew exactly what they were doing and which page they’d left off at. They couldn’t possibly be reading the comic one page at a time, this was intentional.

Ganke’s jaw hurt from all the tooth grinding he’d endured as of late.

This latest one read ‘yo, has BT ever mentioned fighting with a sword? I don’t recall him mentioning. Someone should take that thing away from him before someone loses an eye—or maybe even two.’

That felt like a pointed jibe.

That turned the churning irritation in Ganke’s gut into something much, much colder.

Did Anon know about BT’s black and blue eyes? How could they know? Was it a coincidence? It seemed to be more than a coincidence.

The pile of critiques was growing bigger and bigger, and now that Ganke thought about it, they all seemed to take issue with things that didn’t match the real Blindspot’s personality.

It was as if they knew him.

GL: miles did you read the new comment from AnonTheAsshole?

MM: lol yeah

GL: tell me if I’m talking out my ass or whatever but like

GL: you don’t think they could be Muse, could they?

Silence.

MM: oh no

Yeah. Fuck.

MM: chances are low.

GL: they know so much tho??

MM: might be stalker? Maybe someone who’s over-invested in BT’s social media pages?

GL: maybe.

MM: hold on let me ask Spidey to screen it

GL: does he know Muse?

MM: no, but he’s paranoid and he’ll get Wade to be paranoid with him, and then they can decide whether its worth giving to DD for verification. He knows Muse.

Ganke’s head was spinning. His fingers shook with guilt and the thought of Muse’s pale body hunched over a secret, cracked cell phone in a high security prison who knew where.

In Ganke’s head, he smiled wider and wider, until the skin on his cheeks cracked. He dug out scraps of paper and redrew Blindspot—Sam—with gaping holes for eyes and a screaming mouth and he drew dismembered corpses in black lakes and he laughed.

He just kept laughing.

MM: hey ganke

MM: it’s going to be okay. It’s just a comic. I’m sure AnonTheAsshole is a stalker. They’re not threatening anyone.

MM: Sam can deal with a stalker. And we can too, okay?

There was a reason that Miles was a hero. Ganke wiped at his eyes and swallowed.

GL: okay. Thanks for doing that.

MM: 👍🏾

It took a few hours because Spidey and Deadpool had lives outside of being Spidey and Deadpool, but not so long that Ganke ran out of nails to chew.

Miles messaged him back and said that Spidey had read through everything and ‘escalated it.’ This meant that whatever he’d seen had caused him enough concern to take it to DP.

Miles said that he’d get back to Ganke with DP’s verdict as soon as he had it. In the meantime, he’d run the comments by the other Spideypeople and they thought that it most likely wasn’t malevolent but was maybe something to keep an eye on in the meantime. He tacked onto all, somewhat stiltedly, that he had a weird feeling all of the sudden. The pink Spidey’s tone had changed. She’d shut down and gone cagey, which allegedly wasn’t like her at all. Then she’d told the taller guy to DM her and they’d vanished from the chat. Miles wasn’t sure what was going on there or if maybe they knew something about stuff going on that he didn’t, but he wasn’t super comfortable with it.

GL: crossing my fingers its nothing?

MM: same man, same.

DP escalated it.

Ganke couldn’t stay still in his room. There was no comfortable place to sit or stand or lay. There was nothing to do that would make him stop thinking about everything.

MM: It’s gonna be fine, man, DD always knows what to do.

Miles kept saying that for every step of the way, and yet here they were. Double escalated. Ganke wasn’t so sure he even knew what was happening anymore.

That was scary. Miles was supposed to be part of the in-crowd.

MM: Wade doesn’t think it’s anything that can’t be nipped in the bud.

That was easy for a contract assassin to say, wasn’t it?

MM: he says that you and I are fine. Doesn’t see any links there. Waiting on DD for confirmation of tone.

Hurry up, Daredevil. Your apprentice’s life might be about to take a nosedive into a heap of trash.

Two hours. One text.

MM: >:/

Ganke couldn’t contain the bubble of laughter.

GL: good news?

MM: [image]

He opened it.

SC: HANNAH YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE. STOP BEING A BITCH ON MAIN

HC: You can’t tell me what to do

SC: I CAN

HC: Mom he’s being MEAN

SC: Mom she’s scaring children online

HC: I scare children everywhere I go why are these ones special???

SC: Because I said so

HC: that doesn’t fucking work Samuel you’re not her

SC: I am your older brother

SC: your ELDEST brother

HC: YOU AINT SHIT

SC: THEY DON’T COUNT

SC: HALFSIES COUNT

What.

MM: so.

MM: she’s not Muse.

MM: Red’s laughing his ass off at all of us for taking this to a level three

GL: wait I don’t understand

MM: Hannah is Sam’s little sister. She’s found a new hobby in our website.

Blindspot’s little sister was reading the comic??? Holy shit.

GL: she hates him?

MM: no I’ve been informed that they would literally commit murder for each other but this is how they express love.

No way. Siblings were wild.

GL: so we’re good?

MM: [image]

SC: apologize 🔪

HC: eat my ass

SC: apologize or else

HC: or else what? You gonna come in here and sit on me? Huh? Huh????

SC: I know your email password. All 3 you cycle through. What was his name? Uuuuuuuuuh Jing?

HC: you fucking bastard

SC: Hi Jing, it’s me, Hannah. I’ve been in mad crush with you since sophomore year. Please notice me senpai 😖

HC: Die

SC: kill me

HC: I will.

The giggles that came this time were a mix of relief and genuine intrigue. This lady read the comic every day. She took the time to scroll through pictures of her brother being an absolute lunatic and fighting with a huge monkey. Then she hopped into that comment box and took him—not Miles, not Ganke, specifically Blindspot--down a peg.

She must miss him a lot. Ganke wondered if this was her way of keeping him in her thoughts.

MM: I don’t think we’re getting a sorry, man. DD says Sam’s been at this all morning and has been tricked into apologizing himself twice

GL: so you’re saying that she’s an evil genius

MM: idk but she’s def Sam’s main nemesis. I always thought that older siblings got like, rights or something over younger ones, but idk anymore. Angel says this is normal.

GL: do you think she misses him?

Miles took a long time to respond.

MM: yeah

Yeah, Ganke thought so, too.

GL: should we change Guo tin’s brother’s name to ‘hamish?’

MM: ASDLDSDSFKdsjf

MM: one moment.

MM: sam says yes. Hannah says that she thinks our comic is shit and we need to draw everything uglier

GL: she’s kind of funny

MM: 👀perhaps she would like to be a consultant?

GL: 👀👀👀👀

MM: brb asking

MM: sam says no. Hannah says she’s got better things to do than proofread comics on the internet. She’s also not sorry. She wants that to be clear. DD says that the conversation has moved from English to Chinese and to maybe duck and cover for now. He says all is good tho. Thanks for checking in.

MM: Muse doesn’t use punctuation and talks in riddles, so if we get any of that, we’re supposed to send it to DP right away.

Oh, nice. That was a relief.

MM: oh

MM: sam wants to put us in a chat. Can I give him your number?

Uh, only if he wanted Ganke to hyperventilate.

GL: sure

[GL has been added to a Secure Chat]

It was a page of characters and emojis that were somehow more menacing than Ganke had ever seen them before. Miles popped a little waving hand into the fray, as though testing the waters, but the characters just carried on scrawling around it.

Ganke wasn’t quite sure what to do.

GL: hi? Are y’all okay?

There was finally a pause. Then a few shorter lines of characters. And then finally, Blindspot switched from Chinese to English.

SC: yes we’re FINE. We’re GREAT. Aren’t we, sibling from hell?

HC: who’re you? Why are you in our family chat? This is a family only zone, can’t you read?

SC: God Hannah he’s Korean don’t be a dick

HC: I can’t not be I learned it from you

SC: fair but pretend in the face of company

HC: okay fine. Hello losers.

MM: adksadfadsdfldfsldf

MM: hi

GL: hi?

SC: go on

HC: UGH

HC: fine

HC: I didn’t mean to shit talk your creation. Only my brother.

SC: also a sin, we’ll get to that later

HC: no one cares about you Samuel, stop spreading lies

SC: you first. We both know this is no lie, my white dad cares about me a whole lot

HC: well we can’t all have white dads now can we

SC: don’t be jealous

MM: lol you really call Matt your white dad??

HC: who is this person and how do they know our mutual parent’s name?

SC: this is not a mutual parent situation how many times have we been through this. He’s mine. Get your own.

MM: hi! 👋🏾I’m Bitsy! Spidey no. 4

GL: I’m his friend. He draws the comic. I write it.

HC: oh. nerd children x2

HC: anyways yeah Matt is our dad

SC: ffs

MM: he’s sort of dadly ig.

HC: ?? oho

SC: mind your face. Think about your face. Think about how much you like your face.

HC: little spider, did you not hear?

SC: kay everyone out. We’re done here

MM: hear what?

HC: lol Sammy you didn’t tell them about how Matthew Mcconaughey adopted you in all ways but paperwork?

Ganke held his phone away from his face as far as it would go.

MM: …wait are you for real?

SC: no. okay out.

HC: awwww Sammy so shy now. What are you embarrassed about? It’s cute.

SC: Hannah literally shut up I’m not playing

HC: damn okay sorry

MM: can I be honest?

SC: no

MM: I’m going to be anyways: I think we all sorta knew.

SC: …

HC: right?

SC: what does that even mean?

MM: idk, it just felt right, you know? You two are always fussing at each other and red lost his shit that time you got shot. He doesn’t treat you the way he treats the rest of us and we’re his teammates. He doesn’t even treat spidey like he treats you. So like, yeah. It fits.

MM: I’m really happy for you guys.

MM: is there a reason it’s a secret?

Ganke eased himself back down onto the mattress. This was real. This was like, actual, real information. Something that he and like, four other people in the world now knew.

He kind of wanted to forget it. It didn’t feel right to know.

SC: I dunno.

HC: if sam has an honest emotion towards anything he has to calculate its weight so he can make space for it in his collection of satellites.

MM: wh

SC: you’re so not funny.

HC: it’s called emotional repression, darling. It’s all the rage in this family.

MM: oh

MM: so that’s why you and Red get on so well

SC: HHHHHHH

HC: HA

SC: okay but listen his is different, I’ve only seen him cry at his wedding. I cry at least 4 times a week. Obviously under the bed, but that can’t be emotional repression. That’s expression. That’s clearly expression

HC: I can make the old man cry watch me

SC: please don’t I’ll die

MM: awwwww

SC: shut up it doesn’t even matter.

MM: AWWWWWW

SC: LEAVE ALREADY

MM: no I like it here. I want to hear you talk about how much you love your white dad

SC: I don’t. He loves me. I’m fine with this because it results in food, shelter, and continued employment.

HC: uh huh

SC: I’m using him

HC: yeah because you’re like the most manipulative person I know.

SC: thank you

HC: /sarcasm

SC: I know I ignored it.

MM: so wait why do you actually pretend like you hate him tho?

SC: wh

SC: what the fuck am I supposed to do? Just go on up for a cuddle? Have you met Matt? The second someone starts crying, he finds trash to take out to the bins. Hell no. Life is easier for everyone if I stab him with a stick and he kicks my ass in training. It’s fine.

HC: Sam is learning how to be a Manly Man. This is step one.

SC: I’m plenty manly

HC: you’re what mom imagined as manly

SC: which is perfect. That’s all I need.

HC: mama’s boy

SC: must suck to suck, no one’s kid.

Wow. Ganke had never been more glad that he didn’t have a sister.

GL: That’s kind of cool, though.

GL: that you and DD are close like that I mean.

GL: Its different from all the other mentor/mentee superheroes we see who like, sort of hate each other.

SC: wh

SC: OH. you mean Peter and Kate. Peter doesn’t actually hate Stark, fyi. And Kate calls Hawkeye the Old bi-weekly to make sure he’s still breathing. It’s actually pretty normal.

MM: he doesn’t mean like that Sam. I mean, like those guys don’t associate with their Olds now that they’re grown up and stuff, but you and DD stick together. It’s like you’re family.

MM: and that’s super cool. Idk if Spidey would ever consider me family. I don’t think he wants that for us.

SC: I?

SC: oh shit

HC: CLARITY ON THIS FINE DAY. What was your name again, tiny spider?

MM: miles

HC: PRAISE BE TO MILES

HC: AN EMOTION WAS HAD

SC: get fucked

HC: An epiphany was obtained!

SC: would you shut up

HC: Something has finally permeated that non-porous, two-inch thick skull of my esteemed eldest brother

SC: I’m your only brother

HC: you’re not

SC: they don’t fucking count

HC: now will you FINALLY invite our mutual dad to hotpot?

SC: Hannah he doesn’t want to come to hot pot we’ve talked about this. it’s too spicy for him.

HC: I’ll make it 1/3 less spicy

SC: that’s still too spicy

HC: I’ll make it 2/5 less spicy

SC: 3/5

HC: listen

HC: I have all this fucking equipment that SOMEONE left here callously

MM: what’s hotpot?

SC: 👀

HC: 👀

GL: 👀

SC: well fuck

HC: EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

GL: have we never taken you with us for hotpot???

MM: no?? is this the sticks?

HC: can be. Where do you live?

SC: Hannah no

HC: Hannah yes. We’ll make one here. You’ll make one there.

SC: do you know how much shit I’ll have to buy? Where are we gonna put it?

HC: this wouldn’t be a problem if you’d taken your goddamn inheritance with you to SF

SC: HHHHHH

MM: you guys are actually being serious?

HC: I am. I am here all on my lonesome. Abandoned by my only kin. I require enrichment.

SC: try doing your fucking homework

HC: did anyone hear something?

MM: lololololol I like you

HC: 😊

SC: wh

SC: oh no. No no no.

SC: you two don’t get to be friends

HC: come here bb pspspspspspsps

MM: I’m here

HC: got ‘im. Let’s have hotpot. Sammy send me resippy. We’ll do it together over video so I don’t fuck it up.

SC: I’ve got to go. This has been traumatizing.

HC: byeeeeeeeeeeee

HC: is he gone? Hell yeah, he’s gone.

HC: hey thanks for making that comic thing. It’s hella rad. He loves it. Mom used to call him Monkey when he was little.

GL: omg aw

HC: ikr? P cute. He misses her a lot so I think it brought back good memories. Anyways, I’m actually going to make hotpot. Come over and have some with me, it’s more fun with more people.

MM: you’re not joking

HC: nope, it’s been ages since your whole team has gotten together, right? Ask them to do it. I’m a shit cook, but Sam’ll show us how not to screw it up. And he’s playin’, he’s totally down to hang out with us. We never had more than three people. It’ll be new. Exciting. Enriching even.

MM: are you secretly a nice person, Hannah?

HC: the fuck do you mean ‘secret’??? I’m a delight.

MM: Okay I’ll ask the team and my mom

MM: ganke?

HC: 👀

That—

Sounded kind of nice?

GL: I’ll ask my mom.

HC: nice. You can tell them that it’s a friends dinner or whatever. Idc. I promise I’m not going to kidnap and murder you. I’ve got like, class and work and shit. I don’t have time for that.

MM: 👍🏾

GL: 👍🏼

HC: great here I’ll message you my number. This is legit our sibs chat so Sam’ll freak if you’re still here when he gets back.

MM: thank you! And sorry for thinking you were muse!!

GL: yeah that too

HC: lol np ttyl

That…had really just happened, hadn’t it?

Ganke needed to sit down even though he was already sitting down.

GL: they’re so nice???

MM: ikr?

GL: are you actually going to ask your mom?

MM: Im gonna ask BT if its cool first. Then yeah. Why not? Our team really hasn’t gotten together in a minute. Everyone’s been super busy. It would be a nice change of pace, and if everyone brings smth then Hannah doesn’t have to pay for anything.

MM: ah, Sam says it’s okay. He says sorry his sister is weird and that he’ll make sure she doesn’t poison us.

GL: I kind of love her

MM: same

MM: okay will check in with the others. Talk to you later.

GL: yeah see you later

Damn, at this rate, Ganke’s family was going to triple in size, and all thanks to a comic.

Before he left for downstairs, he made a note to make Guo tin’s brother snarkier.

#fic #inimitable verse #blindspot #samuel chung #miles morales #ganke lee

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moon-lixie · 4 years ago

Text

a guide for people who are too afraid to love, scared of getting their heart broken, or simply don't know where their heart can rest.

or alternatively: in which you rate all the boys that have made their way into your heart according to how safe it was to love them.

word count: 2.367k

genre: fluff

song: Bubble Gum - Clairo

Yang Jeongin — 3.5 stars out of 5.

Jeongin, at the age of five, was already a heartbreaker despite having only broken your heart.

Looking past his dimpled smile, raven black hair and adorably expressive eyes had been a task that proved to be even harder than keeping your hands from getting sticky after an hour of spontaneous crafting.

In your head he had been nothing short of a prince charming, which looking back to, seemed like exaggerating since you would never dare call someone that again, except for a particular tall boy whose rating you will get to in a bit.

Soaked in childish infatuation you had gathered all your courage and walked to him on a particular hot day after school.

Both waited to be picked up from school, carrying your all too small school bags on your back as if they were the biggest burden in the world, with hands sweating and minds daydreaming of a cone of ice cream to quench the thirst of having played without restrain all day.

A couple of steps kept you away from him and you were quick to send them all flying into oblivion as you stood next to him and took his tiny hand in yours.

Round cheeks of his were pushed downwards as his eyes opened wide in surprise, only to go back to their respective place when the kid broke out in wails that left you… horrified, there was no other word to describe how you felt.

At the age of five he broke your heart as he cried his eyes out for what seemed like hours after you had just slipped your hand in his. Of course it hadn't been on purpose and that’s why you wouldn’t dare give him a bad rating because of it.

The low rating was the result of the particular mix of that distant memory to which you both laughed amused whenever it came up in a conversation, and the many times that he hadn’t even noticed your eyes glued to his hand that only wished to hold his hand on yours one more time.

So, if one looked to make their heart ache in a subtle yet tender way, then Jeongin’s obliviousness was the best option.

Lee Felix — 4 stars out of 5.

With Felix there’s not much risk of getting your heart broken, that’s something that could only happen as often as a solar eclipse.

When the boy wasn’t leaving everyone blind with his smile and seemingly infinite cheerfulness, he was uplifting the rest of the world with sweet words and kind actions.

If only, the only thing you could risk with the sunshine boy was getting a toothache from how awfully sweet his existence was; that was if you didn’t fall in love.

The tricky part of having such a loyal and attentive friend was that hearts are foolish, and yours was the foolishest one of them all; the longer you stayed by his side the faster you fell for him without him having to do anything apart from being himself.

At one point his platonic hand holding turned into something that would only make your heart beat faster, and his hugs turned into a weapon that made your knees weak and your cheeks to try imitating the shade of roses he gifted you for your birthday once.

Felix was and is a safe place to leave your heart at, if you understand from the beginning that you will ever just be friends. Because he can break hearts if you give him yours with the wrong intention, even if he doesn’t mean to.

Seo Changbin — 4.8 stars out of 5.

The first thing that made you stare at him from across the classroom was how awfully sincere his smiles are; the way that his eyes were pushed by his round cheeks and the loud laughs that would escape his lips, were both things that made you want to be around him.

Changbin being the friendly and warm person he is, accepted your presence in no time, wasting not even a second in including you in all the plans he had with his friends and always going an extra mile for you to feel as comfortable with him as humanly possible.

It was no wonder that your heart developed a special fondness for the boy after a semester spent practically solely by his side, evolving into an unbreakable adoration after those months turned to years.

Passionate, dedicated, easy to distract, goofy, terribly adorable, honest, sweet and attentive were some of the words you would use to describe the boy who turned into your best friend without making too much of a fuss.

And it had been exactly his passion what drove him kilometers away from you, literally.

You still vividly remember when you hugged him goodbye on the gloomy day he moved away. His hug was warm and draped over your figure like a blanket of comfort that to this day you could still conjure if only you closed your eyes tight enough and concentrated.

Changbin was the best friend you could’ve ever asked for and the only time he made your heart ache was when he drove away to pursue his dreams; lucky for you he fixed it right away with his silly texts and visits on Christmas that almost tempted you to give him five stars, if only he didn’t annoy you so much.

Han Jisung — 5 stars out of 5.

Han Jisung, also known as the owner of your first kiss, had made you fall hard and fast.

You seemed to have a certain something for round and squishy cheeks because yet again there you were, falling in love with a boy whose cheeks would most probably function as pillows and in that case you would love to sleep there.

He was awkward and shy but when you got to know him that faded away only to leave space for his confident self to appear and leave you in awe.

There wasn’t a moment you could recall in which your perspective of him shifted, all you were aware of was that the boy that one day had been just a friend quickly turned into your last thought at night and the first one right after you woke up.

Lucky for you he had seemed to experience the same as you as without a warning he had held your hand in his with a confidence that made you feel at ease and never want to let go.

His laugh filled your mind and your heart, the mole on his cheek turned into your favourite place to plant your goodbye pecks, and his hands became your anchor to happiness.

It had been the night of prom in which he had kissed you so softly and tenderly that you felt like you could die from it, melting in between his hands and ascending to heaven.

The lame excuse of being bothered by the music that he had been excitedly dancing to mere seconds ago had slipped his lips and you didn’t think much of it, not even when he took you to the back of the school gym and gave you a shy smile.

His hands were cold in yours but that’s something you had gotten used to a long time ago, and without a warning he told you he loved you; Han jisung could never be a heartbreaker, not in your books.

Seconds later after you confessed your love for him he had asked you for permission to kiss you and even though you were nervous beyond words you had given him permission because with his hand in yours you always felt safe.

Just as expected the first kiss had been a little bit of a mess, neither of you were quite sure of what you were doing but seemed to quickly get the grasp of it the second time and that was one of the memories you would always keep close to your heart about the person who had been your first love.

Time passed and even though you would never say you fell out of love, things dissolved until what was left of it were memories and a fond smile that the two of you would share when you found yourselves alone and in utter silence.

Jisung, the most tender first love, a safe place to let your heart rest from the outside world.

Hwang Hyunjin — 3 stars out of 5.

Hyunjin, or should you say, prince charming incarnated.

Three, four, five stars would never do him justice and still you settled for less because everything you had left of him were the memories and a million questions.

It was at the beginning of college and in a party so grand that caused half of the people there not to even know who the host was, you included.

From afar you had caught sight of him and felt yourself not being able to move after it; he was —or is— one of the most breathtaking people you had ever had the pleasure to witness in real life. And when he returned your smiles from across the room and finally walked up to you, there was no denying you felt like you were floating.

His hands were like fire against your skin while still having a tender aura to them that warmed your heart. His mouth had been your end and your beginning and to this day you would still go back to it contentedly if given the chance. His eyes had disappeared behind a smile more times that you could count, creeping his way to your heart perhaps forever.

If one night was all it took to give someone your all then that’s exactly what you had experienced that time by his side.

Sadly for you, words didn’t seem to come out the way you wanted and hesitation had turned into a lot of regret as time went by.

You parted ways and weren’t brave enough to ask for his number or at least suggest that he walked you back home; back then and today you wished you had been as brave as your five year old self and just walked a couple steps towards him to grab his hand.

But you didn’t and with that Hyunjin turned into a face you never had the pleasure to see again.

Lee Minho — 2 stars out of 5.

You were going to give him one and a half stars but he agreed to buy you a chocolate muffin this morning while you went with him to buy coffee.

In all honesty, the two stars were just for you to be able to laugh; if there was someone who definitely did not deserve a low rating it was your trustworthy and always responsible roommate Minho.

He had saved you from the hell of staying in the dorms when he offered three months, and three months only, of sparing you from paying rent to stay with him in the two bedroom apartment. Of course you had to start paying after but at least he had made the moving process easy for you and your broke student self.

Through it all he stayed, always present and as annoying as the day before. Someone who cooked for you when he wasn’t feeling lazy, the owner of three cats that more often than not thought it was okay to steal your bed, your support when you weren’t having a great time.

Minho didn’t look friendly at first but god was it a privilege to have a friend like him. You couldn't think of the possibility of ever letting him go and he never showed signs of wanting to leave.

Kim Seungmin — 3 stars out of 5.

When it comes to how safe and easy it was to love him then you do have to settle for a big and round three, because he could be seriously hard to deal with sometimes.

You would give him the most annoying coworker award of the year but that would make him scowl which wasn’t at all the purpose.

At first when you both began working it felt like a competition that nobody agreed upon but ended up taking place nevertheless, and so you began sending defiant looks across the room and laughing silently when victory grazed your actions.

It had been easy to get annoyed at his attitude but once you looked past that and really got to know the guy of the puppy like excitement, there was a sort of alliance that surged.

He would help you when you weren’t helping him, bringing coffee for the other or just a small snack became routine and then before you knew you were leaving work together and hanging out from time to time.

Seungmin goes to show that you can find a friend even in the competitive person you want to defeat or in any other situation or person that looks unlikely. And even though it wasn’t always easy, you thought it was lovely to banter and tease each other.

Bang Chan —

Last but not least is the man that you can’t rate just yet, because even though you are well aware that you love him you’re still not sure how things could develop.

Still, he feels like the last person on your list, as in the last person, ever.

It had something to do with the sweet giggles he would let out while embarrassed, his habit of hugging you out of nowhere and staying there as long as it took to melt your heart into a puddle, the way he hums in content when you press a kiss on his forehead or simply anything else that made him himself.

After what felt like a whole life lived you found him, rogue curls dancing with the wind and a smile that created two endearing pools in his face, and you fell in love, slow and steady.

And even though you’re not sure how safe it is to leave your heart in his hands, you are more than eager to discover it as time passes by.

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bellygunnr · 4 years ago

Text

Status Light Amber

The young man is shaking. His hands tremble as they clear muck, blood, and mechanical fluid away from the joints in the Mjolnir armor. He uses a strong-smelling solution to break down the worst of it, then a scraper, followed by a cloth to pick up any remaining fluid and debris. A polishing cloth follows, which has the Master Chief smiling ever so slightly beneath his polarized mask.

“Do you take care of all your weapons this well?” the Master Chief says quietly, voice low.

“I-- I try to, sir,” the man stammers. Then his gaze hardens. He locks eyes with the Master Chief. “But you’re not a weapon, sir. You’re-- I know you’re a person. Seen it,” he finishes lamely.

“You’ve seen it,” he repeats.

The Master Chief doesn’t know what to do with the information, truthfully. He doesn’t know how to comprehend the notion that he isn’t a weapon. What else was the armor for? The training?

The augmentations?

Whatever he was going to say next dies on his lips as the young man stretches around his hulking frame to chip away at a dried lump of mud and muck clinging like a wreath around his neck. He lifts his chin and angles his posture to give the man the best access possible.

Silence falls between them, like water trickling into a basin. It’s not that the Chief has nothing to say-- he just doesn’t know how to say it. The young man is focused elsewhere, anyway, scraping off dirt to reveal the dull green armor underneath. His brows are furrowed with concentration, but the Chief watches them drop lower, mouth twisting into some unnamable emotion.

It clears a second later. Dutifully, the man applies more solution, scrubbing the armor clean. It gleams under the harsh fluorescent lighting. For a second, the Chief thinks something is missing-- then remembers.

His shields aren’t active, so of course his armor looks off.

“Why are you letting me do this?” the young man asks, not looking up.

“Do what?” the Master Chief responds, tilting his helmet.

“This,” he repeats and thumps his chest plate.

The man scrubs at the black skin of the Mjolnir tech suit, apparently determined to keep himself busy while the Master Chief yet again finds himself at a loss. He can’t feel the liquid, but his armor does tell him the composition, the name of it, so he commits it to memory, temporarily dwelling on the random significance of such a mundane material.

“You asked,” he says finally. “Is that not enough?”

Their faces are inches apart from each other. The Master Chief can see his nose scrunch as he huffs a nervous laugh. He can count the number of moles and freckles on his skin, though he chooses not to. Impulsively, he reaches up to brush a bead of sweat off the man’s brow with the pad of his thumb.

The Chief can feel the breath catch in the man’s throat, the shocked tension winding his whole body up like a spring. His jaw clicks shut as he swallows hard, eyes flicking back and forth across the impassive, expressionless expanse of the Mjolnir’s polarized face.

“Is that all it takes?” the young man murmurs. “A question?”

“You’re the first to ever ask,” the Chief admits. “Besides, I could use the downtime.”

“Remind me to take my time, then,” he says under his breath.

Gradually, the man relaxes, but his face remains pink with a blush. It makes the scattering of freckles stand out. It outlines the thin scar drawing a short line across his temple and the Chief finally allows himself to study the soldier in full, pondering on nothing in particular. The man was a pilot, an officer, even.

And the name...

“Heh,” the Chief vocalizes, his mic crackling with the laugh. “Last time-- you were just a cadet.”

“You remember, then,” the man replies, surprised.

He remembered it clear as day. Augmentations didn’t just enhance his strength, after all, but permitted him to recall things with far too sharp a clarity.

“How could I forget?”

#halo #master chief #if you can guess who the soldier is #good on you #what the hell did i just write #oh my god

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catharrington · 4 years ago

Text

I surrender, I surrender to you. (T, 2.9k words)

@harringroveweekoflove day 4: TEACHER AU, SCHOOL DANCE. Featuring aged up, and friends in love seriously pining. Lame flirting and lame dancing. Please listen to the song Surrender by Suicide on repeat 🖤thanks.

***

The door to the roof was emergency access only. If you opened it, a silent alarm would go off in half a minute if you didn’t have the code to disarm it. This kept all the students from wandering. But the code that sat readily available on a bulletin board in the teachers lounge, didn’t stop them from wandering.

It was the best place to come for a smoke break. Hands down. Sure beat sneaking around the bushes in the back of school, and way more space than the janitors closet. Didn’t feel haunted like the basement did with all its rustling, moaning furnaces.

Billy pushed the door open and punched in the alarm code with his middle finger. Using the rest to clutch a reliable zippo lighter to his palm.

As soon as the door closed with a metallic hiss, and the light above the flat plastic box on the handle flicked to green, Billy was reaching into his suit’s inner pockets. Felt along the silk inside until he found the crinkled pack of smokes he kept.

Inside, the school’s prom was raging just fine. Billy had spent all night watching over it from the edge of the dance floor. Looking the other way as some dancers let their hands wander, as scared lips searched out for a romantic first kiss.

He had been to all his own back in sunny California, spent them doing a lot more than cute kisses pressed to shoulders.

The night brought back lots of memories of bruised wrists hidden by satin shirts, fast cars with wide back seats.

Billy lit his cigarette quickly, pulling until his lungs were filled to the brim with ash. With burning and black and red things that messed him up inside.

He exhaled the day from his lungs, but kept the ash. Let his eyes drift closed as he savored it.

From the other side of the roof he didn’t notice he wasn’t alone until it was far too apparently late. As his eyes fluttered back open, Billy followed the heated gaze on his skin. Turned until he found the farthest corner of the roof and the brick half-wall edge.

Firstly, he noticed the black suit jacket thrown over the brick. As if it weren’t expensive and the texture could ruin it. As if he didn’t care if it were to tumble off the edge to the ground.

Then Billy’s eyes drifted up along a smoke trail that wafted just above the suit jacket. A thin line of white smoke that lead back from over the edge towards a pair of pretty lips.

“Mr. Harrington,” Billy greeted.

The man just smiled. His lips holding that damn smoke curled around it like some blue-collared Cheshire Cat.

Steve, Steve Harrington, was the resident music teacher. His class room was underfunded and made of things he mostly brought in on donation. The children loved him, even if he was hardly over their own age, self-taught, and said crazy things like he didn’t believe in homework.

A large grand piano sat in the middle of his classroom. And Steve usually sat at it. At least, he did when Billy would find some excuse to come in and steal a glance.

Billy couldn’t get over those long legs kicked out, his dress slacks lifting up to show off his ankles. The sweater he wore that day, because he always complained about the old building being too drafty, pushed up to his elbows. And his moles. All the moles dotting up and down the back of his arms. Over his skinny, vein covered hands as they danced across the ivory keys of his grand piano.

Billy wasn’t blind. He knew he lingered too long and too obviously at Steve’s door for his own liking, but he couldn’t help it.

Between his melted chocolate colored sexy mess of a hairstyle and his vintage movie star good looks, Steve was something else. Effortlessly funny, and gentle with the firm understanding of a father. He was amazing to watch or simply be around.

And that smile, that wide real smile that reached up all the way to create crows feet next to his pretty brown eyes.

It took Billy’s breath away. It was, something else.

“Didn’t think you of all people would be skippin’ out on that shindig down there?” Billy kept his voice low. As quiet as the fading night around them. But his throat couldn’t help the gravel laughter that joined his words.

Steve shrugged. Lifting his arms to around his elbows so his whole body moved.

Steve turned and Billy noticed then that he must had been worrying at his long, coffee brown hair all night long. It had gone oily under his fingers. There were some strands coming free of how he had it pushed back. Mostly on the sides, right behind his ear, some were springing free. Reaching out for those mole covered cheeks like vines wanting to kiss. Curls of feather soft hair just out on display, and tempting billy to his edge.

The view off the side of the school roof was pretty, long lines of Indiana forests stretching below them. And the colors of the nights was a water color swirl of navy blue and royal purple twinkling with stars as they turned on one by one.

But, Billy was looking at the curly pieces of hair behind Steve’s ears.

“Just needed a break,” Steve spoke softly. “Headache. I don’t do well with lights and loud, loud music. I’ve had one too many concussions as a teenager.” And as he explained he chuckled. Like it was simply life and didn’t make Billy’s blood boil in his veins at the idea of Steve getting hurt.

But Steve just shrugged again. Flicking the butt of his spent smoke off the edge before he lit up another one. Trying to chain smoke away a headache.

“What about you, Hargrove? Thought you were enjoying enabling all those troublemakers down there?”

Billy whistled low. His shoes kicked up the tiny pieces of gravel across the roof as he walked closer to the edge. “That obvious?” He asked.

“Might of well have spiked the punch yourself,” Steve smiled, wonderfully wide and real, it made Billy’s heart swell up into his throat.

“Damn, I might get in trouble then,” Billy said in a laugh and an exhale of smoke. Mostly about the comment. Mostly about that damn smile.

He pressed his hip to the edge of the brick wall. Steve was standing a bit back away from it. His body turned to look out over the view. Billy didn’t want all that. Leaned back casually on the wall facing inwards as if they best view was Steve’s pretty face itself.

A minute of comfortable relaxation ticked by. Their senses going dark and black and burnt as they created a designs of clouds around their heads. Watching them gather and fade as the smoke cloud was too weak to carry rain. So it drifted up into the night sky to join the hidden mass of starlight under all the polluting lights of the school building.

Billy was stealing glances at Steve. Trying to make it not obvious.

Finally, Billy thinks he’s supposed to be the one to talk. He wipes his cigarette across the brick to make a line of black. Watches it for a second as he mutters, “What is he going to do? Fire me? Who else is going to teach these pipsqueaks how to understand poetry?”

“Good point, no one in their right mind actually enjoys poetry,” Steve shoots back.

Billy’s laugher from that is from deep in his chest. Rolling out through his ribs in a way he hasn’t felt tonight. In a way he wants to bottle and keep forever.

“Ya'know,” he starts slowly. Thinking about his words carefully. “I’ve got a bottle of aspirin in my desk. If that headache is still bothering you, Harrington?”

And Steve’s eyes flick towards him quickly. Searching the space between for any meaning to those words other than kindness. There’s a worry etched into Steve’s brows. And again, Billy’s griped with a certain anger for whoever put it there.

He gives himself a moment to think about it. Looking from between Billy’s face to the ground below them. Kicking his fancy brown dress shoe into the dirt.

“We’ve been away for a while. Really should be getting back?” Steve’s whisper is so quiet. Even he must know that ain’t an option.

Reaching forward, across the little space left between them, Billy brushes his hand across the slumped fabric of Steve’s jacket. He pets it once, twice, his fingers lingering on the well-loved softness that’s been put into the expensive suit, before he gathers it up in his fist. Lifting it from the brick so he can drape it over his arm.

He’s watching Steve the whole time. Wondering what the pretty boy is going to do about it.

“Mr. Hargrove,” Steve talks around the last puff of his cigarette. It’s tobacco burning bright orange to the filter before he flicks that one too over the side of the building.

Turning then to level a playful glare towards Billy.

“What’s another minute?” Billy scoffs. “Well, another 30 minutes?”

“We’ve got to get back!” Steve hisses. “If the principal notices they are down two chaperones then he will crucify us!”

“That’s a pretty poetic way of saying we’re dead if we get caught.” Billy laid his hand over Steve’s jacket. Pulling it so that it was on the other side of his body from Steve. So that if he had to leave, if he really didn’t want to take Billy up on his so generous offer of aspirin, he’d have to brush up along Billy’s side to fetch his jacket.

Crossing his arms back over his chest, Steve worried his bottom lip. Thinking, gears turning, under that head of perfectly disheveled hair.

Billy couldn’t help but follow the motion of his worrying. Swiping his tongue over his own bottom lip as he thought about how Steve’s teeth worked. How they brought the blood to the top layer of skin. How it looked cherry red and wet, as if it were stained from the punch bowl at the prom still dancing below their feet.

“20 minutes,” Steve haggled. His eyebrow quirking up in a challenge.

Billy shook his head. “Says right on the bottle takes 30 minutes to kick in. Wouldn’t want to take you back to the party still hurting, pretty boy.”

And he let that slip. That wasn’t supposed to come out. Billy’s eyes widened in reflex at his old behavior. If he could reach out and pluck those words out of the air he would. It wasn’t poetic, it wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t the best way to flirt with the music teacher he has been silently crushing on for the past year.

But then, he noticed that Steve didn’t pull back. Or sneer, or draw his sword in a one on one combat for the disgrace of his honor.

He kept standing on the roof of their school. Kept his arms crossed over his chest to combat the cold. His button up shirt pulled tightly across his broad shoulders.

Kept smiling under the glow of the moon and the artificial yellow lights dotting around them. And just like his Cupid bow shaped lips, his cheeks were flushed a brilliant red blush.

“Okay, yeah. Sure, Hargrove,” he stuttered out. Lifting one hand to wave towards the door.

Billy’s smirk was wide and wolffish, brilliant and happy.

He followed where Steve was gesturing. Opening the heavy metal door with a creaking groan of the hinges. Stepping aside to let him pass. Steve’s shoulder brushed along the fatty part of Billy’s bicep as he went

Down the steps they start picking up the quiet notes of the prom music still going on. Now that it was later on into the night, starting to become too late to be out, the music has mellowed out to softer love songs.

The staircase to the roof wasn’t decorated like the rest of the school. None of the red steamers or sweetheart pink balloons.

But as the gentle rhythm trickled up the steps, it sure felt like Billy was right back on that floor. And he had never felt it before the way he had now. When he was a kid he was a rebel without a cause. Driving fast cars and leaving hearts broken behind him.

Valentine’s days were always something to get done. To get to the end of so he could jump in bed with his prize.

Now, as the melody of the song so slowly so softly floated by, he finally was felling those butterflies.

Was thinking this is how it felt being a kid and timidly kissing the shoulder of your dance partner. Your heart so swollen and raw just wishing they feel the same way. That they will smile at your lame attempt to get their attention, and bend down to give you a real kiss.

Billy felt his feet stop at a halfway platform. A shiny metal thing that groaned dangerously under them. It wasn’t a dance floor. Wasn’t painted wood of a basket ball court either, but it felt like it. Gods, did it feel like it.

The song echoes all around them. Distorting the voices and pianos and making it ethereal in a way he didn’t want to ever end. A spell he never wanted broken.

Then, so gently it was almost startling. Almost made him jump from his vibrating skin. Steve sipped his hand into the one Billy was using to hold his coat.

Billy jerked to watch him. Thinking this was it, Steve had changed his mind and was going back to play babysitter for the rest of night like a responsible teacher.

But, he instead wrapped those gorgeous piano player fingers around Billy’s own and claimed them. Moved them so they were wrapped up too busy to hold the jacket anymore.

It tumbled down to the metal floor below them.

“Tell me if I’m reading the room wrong,” Steve whispered. Trying not to be louder than the song. Trying to stay in the moment of the reverberating chorus. “I’m not good with poetry, but I know a romantic moment when it plays on the radio.”

And he lead Billy’s hand to his waist. Leaving his hand touching ever so softly on the sensitive skin of the back of Billy’s hand.

And he used his other hand to cradle the back of Billy’s neck. Those fingers playing over the shaved short hairs there like ivory. As skilled as he is in every instrument he touches.

Making Billy completely breathless. Making him an audience to the way Steve begins to sway to the song. Following along as their teacher’s dress shoes click against the floor.

“I think you’re better at reading than you let on, Harrington,” he breaths. So low, so gentle, just like his hands as he wills up the courage to rest them on Steve’s hips.

His thumbs find the brown leather belt Steve wears all the time. And he worries circles into the leather. Round and round.

The same circle that Steve’s leading them in. Swaying back and forth to the music so damn easily it’s mesmerizing. It’s easy to follow right along where he’s lead.

Steve’s hands come up to wrap around Billy’s shoulders. Takes a step even closer.

His face is handsome in the low light of the staircase to the rooftop. His whole face, from his hair to the tip of his thin nose, is sparkling more than even the sky they just left behind. His eyes are intoxicating to watch. Half lidded and dark.

Billy feels his fingers grip harder on Steve’s belt as he dips close to his face to talk right into the blushing parts of his cheek.

“You’ve cured my headache,” his breath is warm across Billy’s skin. It makes him shiver.

Steve leans back to watch for a reaction. A playful quirk that makes his nose scrunch up.

Billy swoops forward the inches between them to catch those perfect lips in a kiss.

It’s slow, and soft, and it takes every damn thing Billy’s got in his whole body not to melt into the floor right there. Not to give into the way Steve’s lips are so warm pressed to his own. How he tastes like a more expensive brand of cigarettes. And how Billy can feel the way Steve’s smiling still into his kiss.

It makes him whimper low, a pleading thing that sounds much more broken than he feels.

Billy actually feels a lot more whole than he has in a long time. Like a piece of him he’s been ignoring has finally come to dance. Feels like a side of him he wants to look in the mirror and see. Not the rebel, or the self assured ass who’s got so many walls up he can’t see what’s in front of him.

No, this was a kid who’s gotten his first kiss at a school dance. And, to make it perfect, from the guy he’s been crushing on all year long. From the prom king himself.

They part with a smile and a low laugh. Listen as the song switches to something just as slow and perfect for another cheek to cheek dance.

Billy lays his head down on Steve’s shoulder. Pulls him in even closer. But leaving enough space for their feet to keep swaying back and forth to the music.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #my fic #steve/billy #harringrove fanfic #harringroveweekoflove #harringrove week of love

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maybedefinitely404 · 4 years ago

Text

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely.

Most of the time, that is.

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those.

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did.

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his.

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started.

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him.

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now.

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter.

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer.

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut.

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin.

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit.

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him.

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things.

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum.

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough.

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile.

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet.

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water.

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes.

He was art, plain and simple.

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?”

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop.

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO!

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands.

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that.

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly.

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused.

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?”

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would.

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break.

‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly.

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to.

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed.

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable.

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay.

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay.

This is all going to be okay.

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #demus #prinxiety #logicality #autistic janus #sanders sides college au

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kattfisherr · 3 years ago

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ALYSSA'S DREAM~ EPISODE 5

Part one; episode five

I SAW THAT

????

What am I doing? I'm crazy. Yeah, that has to be it. There has to be some logical explanation why felt this way. Wishful thinking. I really wanted to believe something, anything.

"Hey...could you help me with my zipper. Kate insists I wear this," she said with a small giggle as she turned around to show me the wide expanse of her exposed back. I stood up from her bed, I'd been helping her pick outfits. Incase it's still unclear, she is the cause of my distress. I know she'll never see me like that...more than her friend. She with Kanito anyway. I hated that douchebag so much. As I walked up behind her I sniffed her without making it too obvious. She smelled so good. My hands shook as I zipped up her dress and the those of me kissing the little mole I saw on her back didn't help me any.

"Do you always do what Kate says?" I ask trying to distract myself. She smiled at me in the mirror and turned to face me.

"Not all the time. I just take her recommendations once in a while," she said in her sweet voice.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her she fucked the campus asshole at Kate's bidding but I couldn't bring myself to put a frown on her angelic face. Instead I smiled at her.

"Lyssa. Lyssa. Girl are you dressing up for a ball. You should be done," we heard Kate call out. Alyssa giggled. I loved that sound. I am really going insane. Kate walked in and they started talking about what they wanted to do. Alyssa not really saying much. She didn't even ask where we were all going. When I accidentally said she looked hot in the dress, she turned her beautiful eyes to me and flung her arms around me, hugging me tightly. I was startled but I held her, I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them Kate looked at me with an arched eyebrow. Oh freaking shit! She could sense it. I pulled back from the hug and excused myself lamely.

KATE

If everyone was as dumb and naive as Alyssa is at times, the world would have ended a long time ago. Did she not see what just happened?

ROD

"No," Lexy said with the most stern look she could muster.

"But I haven't even asked anything?" I replied grinning at her.

"Yeah well what I gave you is enough. I need to meet the girls for a night out so you'll have to be satisfied," she went about moving around my house like she lived there. Well, in sense she did. My bathroom cupboard had some of her soaps I don't understand and my room had a couple of her clothes. I was enjoying the fuck outta teasing her. For example...

"Oh you mean sex," I teased and her face immediately went red. I wanted to laugh but she'd get mad at me. Though I enjoyed that shit, I wasn't going to ruin her night.

"Do you always have to mock me?" She said lifting her little nose up.

"No. I ALWAYS have to tease you. You look pretty cute like that," I responded and moved to kiss her cheek. She relaxed and I left the room to give her space and time to get dressed.

She was just from the shower, probably still looking for something to wear. One day I'm gonna make her walk naked in the house. She's incredibly attractive just in her skin. Maybe I could catch s glimpse of her, but I promised to leave her alone... Fuck it.

I stood up and walked slowly towards the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar. I peeped through and she had on leg up, rubbing lotion into her skin. Dammit!

My rugged breathing probably sold me out because the next thing I heard was...

"RODNEY! Is having sex all you think about?" I could tell she wasn't upset. There was a laugh in her voice. I walked in and moved behind her.

"I occasionally think about food," I buried my face in her neck. She smelled so good. I held the edges of the towel and moved them slowly over her thighs.

"I won't take long babe. Quickie?" I licked her pulse and she melted.

"Okay...but hurry," I smirked as I bent her over the bed.

LEXY

"Oh guys I'm sorry I'm late," I said nervously.

"Cause of this mystery boyfriend that you don't want to tell us about, right?" Fay said in a calm voice. Very calm. Something was bothering her.

"Just tell us who he is Shmexy," Alyssa made up this endearment for me... Lexi Shmexy. It made me laugh like crazy but I loved it.

"Oh she won't. But I gotta tell ya Lex if he doesn't want nobody knowing bout you he don't love you," Kate said as sassy as ever. I wanted to cry.

"Stop being a bitch Kate," Fay said angrily to Kate. Then she turned to me and said, "Don't listen to her Lexi. You probably have good reason for it." I smiled at her but I couldn't help but worry. I mean I was the one that told Rod to wait but it's not like he ever put up a fight about it. Only his friend Bob knew of us and not cause we told him. Everytime he makes love to me I always blurt out the three stupid words hoping he'd say them back. No luck though. Tough!

ALYSSA

I was having the time of my life. I was happy. I finally had things in order and my life seemed better. My mom called and she actually sounded happy and sad cause she missed me. My dad was fixing things with her. And Kanito...he was perfect. I was starting to care for him but I didn't put much thought into it. I didn't want to ruin my good fortune. My friends though, they weren't as happy as me. Well except for Kate. Fay and Kate had been acting weird to each other ever since we got here. I didn't even know why because they both kept saying "What? Pfft we're cool"

After Kate's comment, Lexi didn't look fine. She was chugging down alcohol like she was a pro alcoholic. It was weird to me because I've never seen her drunk. I've seen her tipsy or a little high but not flat out drunk. The rate she was going she was gonna black. She stood up and said she needed to go to the little ladies room and I offered to take her. Kate was off dancing with some guy and Fay said she was hungry so she went upstairs to get something to eat. You see, Club 9T had an exclusive party themed area downstairs and upstairs was a pool area, a restaurant and some private rooms.

As I held Lexi's arm, I heard her sniffling. I didn't say anything until we were at the privacy of the bathroom. We got in and I locked the door.

"What's wrong Shmexy?" I asked cupping her face. She'd started wearing make up recently and I found a lot of tutorial videos on her laptop.

"Why doesn't he love me?" she looked up at me and although her eyes were glassy from the alcohol, I could still see the pain and fear in them. I didn't bother to ask who because I already guessed she meant her boyfriend.

"I keep letting him do this to me," she began hiccuping as she sobbed, "before I came, he... he told me he wanted a quickie and I l..let him because I love him. I t...told him but he just kissed me an...and said 'I know'," I felt awful. Kate can be a bitch at times. This was all her fault. I hugged Lexi to me as she cried. She started gagging and I pulled back and turned her to the sink. She threw up miserably, crying as I held her hair back.

"Don't let Kate get to you like this," I whispered as I rubbed her back. She gaggled with some of the sink water then we went back to the club. I was a little tipsy myself but Lexi was terrible. I'd noticed some guys from campus but wasn't surprised it was s common hang out spot for most of the people there. Especially on weekends like this Friday night.

I left Lexi at our booth to go get her some water. I was only gone for a while but when I came back there was some ugly ass guy bothering her. She looked scared as he kept yanking on her arm. Now You See, other than Fay, we were all pretty short people and not quite heavy at all so even as Lexi fought back she didn't quite make an impact.

I rushed over to her, so furious I couldn't think. I ran up to her and confronted the man.

"Hey what do you think you're doing? Get the hell away from her," I yelled. He pushed me aside and let go of Lexi's arm.

"Oh look at the princess saving the ugly duckling," he said with a smirk. His breath was so bad I could smell it from where I stood.

"Oh look at Shrek coming to kidnap the princess," I said that as I grabbed Lexi's arm. I was referring to her as the princess and she knew it. I felt it in the tightening of her hand in mine. A guy from our campus who was much older than us came up with a bodyguard. I'd seen him before with Kanito.

"What's going on here?" he asked and I quickly filled them in on what the smelly toad had done. The bodyguard drugged the shitstain away and the guy who had brought him made sure we were okay.

I sat down with Lexi and she thanked me and lay her head on my shoulder.

I saw Bob and I was confused he seemed to be looking for someone and then he spotted Kate dancing and moved to her. He said something to her and she pointed at us. Bob walked over and I asked him why he was here.

"I'm here for Lexi. I got a call that she was drunk and she ran into some trouble," he turned to look at her.

"Did he send you?" Lexi asked angrily. I could only arch my eyebrow in confusion. In the back I saw Kate leave with a guy and didn't care.

"Yes he did. Come on let me get you somewhere safe," Bob said taking a hold of her hand. She began crying again and to my utter shock and disbelief he moved closer and hugged her. In a way a brother might hug his sister.

"He's going to be mad at me," she whispered.

"Yes but you know him. He's just over protective," I asked if she was okay and she turned to me and smiled weakly.

"Bob is a good friend I just don't like disappointing my boyfriend it just makes me sad," I smiled and kissed her on the cheek. I offered to help her walk to the car. When she got in and they drove off I turned around and bumped into someone.

"Whoa there shawtie, " the man said. It was Kanito. For some reason I got mad.

"Oh it's you," I said emotionless.

"Wow don't sound too excited," he said sarcastically.

"I guess you have a hot date tonight," I snapped. I was being stupid but still.

"I will fucking spank your ass in front of all these motherfuckers," he said angrily and with that pulled me towards his car. I just got in without much of a fight. He revved up the engine and it roared to life. As he drove, we sat in silence thick enough to cut through glass until he spoke.

"I was checking on you. Bob told me what happened. Are you okay?" he asked as he rounded the corner to his apartment.

"I'm fine. Just worried about Lexi,"

"She'll be fine. She's in good hands trust me," it was a weird thing to say but I took his assurance anyway.

As he helped me out of the car and up the stairs I realized that again, I was with Kanito. I thought I wouldn't have to see him again but I always do. I had my purse on a strap across me and my phone was in it so I was good.

Once we got in I sat calmly at his couch but deep down I wanted to cry. Kate had left without even a backward glance not caring what happened or even wondering why Bob came for Lexi.

"She's going to be fine," Kanito said as he walked up to me with a glass of water.

"Do you know who she's dating?" I asked as I took a sip of the water.

"Yes," he said nonchalantly.

"Who is it?" I asked my curiosity peeked.

"That, my love, is a matter of her telling you," he said as he leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.

"I missed you," he whispered against my ear. I thought it was the alcohol speaking. He'd never said that to me. I didn't want to ruin the moment though so I didn't say anything. He asked me if I wanted to take a shower, and I said yes. I took a shower, my mind racing, there's something I forgot but I couldn't even remember what it was. When I walked in to Kanito's room I saw he'd laid out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. They'd probably swallow me but beggars don't get to choose. He was in the kitchen by the time I was done and I walked in to see what he was doing. He moved back and forth between the fridge and the counter looking for something to cook and I offered to help.

"Hey, are you sure you're okay Lyssa?" He asked as I moved to the sink to wash the red onions.

"I am. I've just never seen Lexi like that and Kate...she didn't even come to see what was wrong or even text that she was leaving," even saying that made my blood boil. Kanito moved really close to me. He placed his hands on my shoulders and leaned in closer to my ear.

"With time Lyssa, you'll come to see Kate as the rest of us see her," he kissed my head and moved back to the counter to pass me some tomatoes.

"Do you really think she's a good friend? You stayed back for Lexi. You helped her, made sure she was okay. Kate left you both. Besides you said it was Kate's words that sent Lexi into a drinking spring," he said idly breaking the pasta in half and putting them in a bowl.

I didn't know what to say, I wanted to defend Kate but she didn't give me much to stand on. Well we made dinner in silence and ate while watching some TV.

When we went to bed though, I expected he'd just move on over me and get on with it but...he just held me and sighed. I was confused. It didn't even seem like him.

"Won't we have sex?" I asked in a small voice, mostly to myself.

"Lyssa," he sat up, "I don't want to stress you. You've had a really bad night..." He left his statement dwindling in the air.

"But I want to," well that was all that was needed to rev him up.

EDITOR: Nesh Driller (@nesh_driller)

WRITER: Katt Fisherr (@official_.katt)

Find out more about me and my work using this link

#creative writing #erotizm #x reader headcanons #writing #books & libraries #currently reading #black girl magic

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sodium-h · 4 years ago

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Hide and seek

Hide and seek should go in different ways, but who would complain about that outcome?

Warnings: slight anxiety attack, but other than that there's none

Rating: fluff(?) I think is fluff... I mean... I'm not really good at understanding the rating, so...

Masterlist and rules

It should have been a fun game. Every kid likes hide and seek and it was a good way to not have a screaming kid attached to you every second of the day.

And it was fun, until almost five minutes later she still didn't found her little sister.

She pressed her lips together and averted her eyes to the side, where the sound of steps could be heard.

To her dismay, it was just another kid.

Her breath itched as tears welled up in her eyes.

She frantically looked around with her heart pounding in her head.

Where was she?

She began to walk around, calling her name again and again.

Where was she?

Turning her head once again she got a glance of a little black spot near a silver one.

Her eyes widened as she recognized her little sister near a gray haired guy who was pointing at her with a little smile.

The kid started running towards her with tears streaming down her face.

She kneeled to the ground and embraced the little girl, gripping her head to keep her as near as possible.

-Don't you ever try to do it again. You almost gave me a heart attack.

She kissed the little girl's cheek and wiped away her tears.

-It's okay now. You're with me and you're fine, okay?

She looked up to see the approaching male with gray hair. The smile tugging his lips was gentle and genuine.

She observed him a bit better. Brown eyes with a gold tone framed by long lashes and a cute little mole near his left eye.

She pressed her lips together, slightly embarassed by her little dramatic scene.

Caressing her sister's head once again she stood up and smiled at the cute guy.

As she did so she noted a little kid, around her sister's age hiding behind him.

-Thank you for finding her. I don't know what I would have done if I were to lose her.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head a little, resting his hands on his hips.

-It's nothing really. It happened with my brother too. - he stopped talking and stroked the little kid's head, massing his hair - I'm Sugawara Koushi.

He raised his hand for her to shake.

His long, slender fingers brushed on her skin, giving her goosebumps. His skin was warm against her usually cold hands.

While saying her name, she observed her sister trying to get Sugawara's brother to play with her.

She chuckled at the little picture of the two kids, Sugawara doing the same.

-Why don't you kids go ply together? It will be more fun than staying with two old guys like us wouldn't it?

His gentle voice made the kids look at him. His brother was clearly against it, preferring to stay with his brother instead of making a new friend, while the little girl looked at him in awe.

After a bit more of convincing the two kids went to play together - well, more like her sister dragged and forced the kid to play with her - leaving the two teenagers alone.

-Your sister is really outgoing. I hope my brother gets something from her.

He smiled, looking to the girl on his right.

She was looking forward, her eyes watching her every step, so he could see her sweet features.

They began to talk, walking around the playground and never darting their eyes from the kids.

Their conversation when back and forth, from their favorite food to their least favorite subject and so on.

To her it was mesmerizing finding a guy she managed to connect so fast.

He was gentle and sweet, but he could also give that crackhead energy she loved to feel.

He would make her laugh and she would do the same with some lame joke that wasn't even funny. But he laughed nonetheless.

-What were you thinking, love?

The gray haired man beside her stroked her shoulder, resting his arm around her.

He looked at her with curious brown eyes. She always found them mesmerizing. How they would shine under the sun light and how he would look like a child every time he was curious about something.

-Just how much of a crack head you are.

He chuckled and closed his eyes, squeezing her towards him a bit more.

-And you're stuck with me for a long time.

He pressed his lips on her temple while the TV showed a show none of them were interested into.

#haikyuu #sugawara koushi #sugawara fic #sugawara imagine #haikyū!!#haikyuu fic #karasuno

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joon-bugs · 5 years ago

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Crush

~I’m late (as usual) but this is in commemoration of Jungkook’s birthday! No matter what age he will always be our baby Kookie. Let me know if there are any ideas you guys have for future stories, and enjoy!~

‘He looked so small kneeling at your feet. His grown out hair was pulled back into a low bun, a detail you had overseen previously. A few shorter strands hadn’t made the cut and were haphazardly strewn over his forehead, covering his wide doe eyes. The image would have been so innocent if not for your nakedness.’

word count: 3,268

pairing: Jungkook/Reader

genre: smut

warnings: swearing, first time oral (male giving, female receiving), Taehyung being an ass, (more) couch staining, slight violence, baby boi Jungkook, slightly submissive Jungkook, unprotected sex

If there was anything nice to say about Kim Taehyung, it was that he gave good head. Okay scratch that. He gave phenomenal head. He delivered toe curling pleasure like it was his damn job and knew it. The only flaw with him was the fact he was a major ass. Taehyung or 'Taehoney' as he was dubbed, was a cocky bastard with a pretty face. He reveled in getting off men and women, collecting in the reward of bragging about it while receiving reverence and sometimes money from his classmates. Getting on his knees was a hobby that benefited him in more ways than one, and he was perfectly content to break down the recipient of his efforts. Today, it just so happened to be you.

Honestly, you didn't know why Taehyung had given you the time of day. You weren't his type by any standard, preferring the silence and seclusion of the library to the rowdy atmosphere of your apartment. Having three roommates only sounded like a good idea from a money perspective. It didn't help they all liked to smoke and drink, which usually led to them inviting friends over. And being really really loud. So the library had thus become your hideaway, away from the world.

Maybe one of your roommates had told him about you, put you on his radar, painting a target on your back. That could have been the only explanation as to why he weaved through the rows of paperbacks, only to plop down at the furthest table, which you happened to be seated. All he had to do was smile and extend his hand.

"I'm Taehyung. Nice to meet you."

You were done for, caught in his net the moment he opened his mouth.

Somehow in the span of an hour Taehyung convinced you to study at his place, ensuring you that his roommate would be out. Like a lamb to slaughter you agreed, your backpack seeming heavier as you followed him home.

Taehyung was sly, quick to offer you a seat on the small loveseat, making no move to squeeze next to you. He instead crossed his legs, sinking to the floor by your feet. You were grateful for the space, the air already suffocating in the emptiness of the apartment.

You'd just started to take out your things when a touch startled you, and you looked down only to see the red haired boy grinning, his fingers inching up your shorts. Maybe the whole situation would have been avoided if it was colder, if the weather called for sweatpants or a parka. Or maybe it was ineffable, fated by some twisted deity. Either way Taehyung had gotten between your legs, and it was taking all of your willpower not to scream.

"Tae-Taehyung...I don't-understand." You panted through clenched teeth, tossing your head to the ceiling, your fists balled. He came up for air to bite a chunk of your thigh, and you released a sound between a shriek and a gasp.

"There’s nothing to understand Y/N. Enjoy the ride baby." He laughed, enjoying himself. You canted your hips when he resumed his actions and latched onto his hair unconsciously. You glanced down to watch him work and marveled at the contrast between your skin and his fiery locks. The scarlet letter came to mind and you scoffed, thinking of the symbolism. Guess that made Taehyung a harlot.

“What’s so funny hmm?” His eyes met yours and you turned red, noticing his dripping chin. Was all that really from you?

“N-nothing. Just thinking.” You gave a half hearted reply, hoping it was enough. His lips poked out in a pout.

“I would hope you were thinking about me..and I don’t think what I’m doing is very funny. I’d rather have you begging than laughing.” He sounded upset.

“Tae-“

“Time to work more of my magic then.”

Taehyung grabbed your butt and yanked you closer, your thighs cradling his skull. He wrapped his lips around your clit suddenly and sucked hard. You yelped, back bowing off the couch, mouth open, eyes wide. He chuckled, the air stimulating you further.

“That’s more like it sweetheart. Show me how you fall apart.” He lowered his voice, sending chills up your spine. The noises that followed were absolutely sinful, loud and obscene. Your legs were beginning to shake, the coil in your belly tightening. Taehyung’s nails dug into your thighs and you just knew there would be marks. You took in a big breath, the pressure rising.

“I think I’m-“

“What the hell?!

You shot up, pulling Taehyung’s hair to get him off. He resisted at first, content to continue despite the audience, until he realized you weren’t letting up. He sighed loudly and looked over his shoulder, still holding you spread eagle.

“Oh you’re back early. Game finish early Kook?” Taehyung had a bored tone, a complete 180 from his earlier persona. You furrowed your brow at the nickname. Why did it sound so familiar..? You slowly scanned your eyes up the newcomer’s legs, taking in the toned definition of their thighs, all the way up to a pronounced chest and wide neck. You noticed the scar on his cheek and the small mole on his chin. Oh god. It was Jeon Jungkook. The best athlete on campus who so happened to be your biggest crush. Your crush who had just witnessed you getting tongue fucked by his roommate. You should’ve ran. If not for the mortification burning through your blood, you would have.

Jungkook grit his teeth, glaring daggers at Taehyung who gave him a cheeky grin.

“Sorry you caught me in the middle of something. Let me finish up then we can get lunch.” He talked as if he were discussing the weather. Jungkook dropped the duffel bag he'd been holding and charged forward to wrench Taehyung back by his shoulders. He fell on his back with a thud, the impact hard enough for a side table to shake.

“What the f-”

“You’re a real piece of shit ya know that?!” Jungkook yelled, standing over Taehyung with his hands in tight fists. You’d never seen the younger look so angry before. Taehyung scowled before standing to brush off his pants.

“What’s the problem man? You act like this is the first time you’ve walked in on me working.” Working? It's not like I’m paying him.

“That’s what this is? Bullshit. You’re telling me she came to you? That’s low even for you.” Jungkook got in his roommate’s face, breathing heavily. You wondered why he was so upset.

“What? Hard to believe miss goody two shoes would ask for my services? I mean-” Taehyung scoffed, looking proud, “Could you blame her?” The situation was getting way out of hand and you chatised yourself for ever coming to the apartment. You crossed your ankles and shivered, debating on snatching up your shorts, but too afraid to move.

“Im gonna beat your ass.” Jungkook’s threat was quiet and firm. Despite only being able to see the back of Taehyung’s head you imagined the giant eye roll he gave Jungkook.

“Oooo what a tough guy. Grow up Jeon. Tell me the real reason you're mad. It's because I can do what you can't. Make a girl come on my tong-” Taehyung’s head quickly connected with the drywall as his body was slammed up against it. You felt the weight of the attack as if it was aimed at you. Fistfuls of Taehyung’s shirt was bunched and twisted in Jungkook’s grasp, the two roommate's faces nose to nose.

“You knew damn well I would be home early, I should-”

“What? Hit me? C’mon show us what a real man you are.” Taehyung licked his lips, enjoying his taunting. You saw Jungkook’s jaw twitch and knew you had to step in.

“Wait! Don’t..don’t.” You pleaded lamely, becoming red as the two men turned to stare. Jungkook seemed to soften and hesitated a moment before shoving himself away from Taehyung.

“Cute Jeon. Real cute.” Taehyung chuckled, adjusting his clothes. He fixed up the mussed section of his hair and tossed you a wink, before turning towards the door.

“Sorry I couldn’t finish you off Y/N. But maybe Kook could help you out..” He threw the words over his shoulder, slamming the door behind him, leaving the apartment silent once more. Jungkook’s gaze was glued to Taehyung’s disappearing form for a moment and you took this time to bend down to grab your pants, trying to be as subtle as possible. You began to undo the row of buttons on the front but paused after hearing Jungkook mutter.

“Are you..okay?” You were hesitant to ask and flinched when the boy’s head whipped around and his eyes bore into yours. Your earlier task forgotten, all you could do was stare back, watching as Jungkook mumbled something else under his breath, seeming distracted.

“S-sorry for being here, I’ll just go.” His attention was making you nervous and it didn’t help that your lower half was exposed. It was not how you wanted your first encounter with him to go. His look turned hard then and he clenched his jaw, approaching you swiftly. You jumped back, pressing your body further into the couch, head dizzy at the unexpected move. Oh god he must be really mad. You anticipated that he would yell and throw you out, never to speak to you again. Clenching your eyes you waited, breath held.

“I’ll show him.” The words were soft, quiet. You slowly opened your eyes, confused for a second, not seeing Jungkook in front of you. It was only when you felt a waft of warm air graze your legs, did you realize where he had gone.

He looked so small kneeling at your feet. His grown out hair was pulled back into a low bun, a detail you had overseen previously. A few shorter strands hadn’t made the cut and were haphazardly strewn over his forehead, covering his wide doe eyes. The image would have been so innocent if not for your nakedness. And his staring. Right at your crotch.

“Um..Jungkook?”

“He did this to get back at me.” He said, leaning forward, letting his fingertips travel up your legs. You clenched them, keeping them closed for modesty’s sake. Omg Jeon Jungkook is touching me omg omg. You were internally losing your cool. Jungkook continued.

“He can never just take an apology, always gotta act like a dick-”

“Taehyung?” You were baffled at the lack of context to his rambling. He paused in his exploration, but his eyes never moved.

“He knew I liked you Y/N. That’s why he wanted to get you here alone.” Shame flooded your face and you gasped audibly, realizing just how big of a dumbass you were.

“You..like me?” Probably not anymore you whore.

He looked up at you then and gave you a shy smile, looking much younger than you knew he was.

“Y-Yeah. I was..too shy to tell you.” He looked away, reverting his attention back to your closed privates. Who would have thought someone as outgoing and sporty as Jungkook would actually be bashful?

“I like you too Jungkook.” The confession escaped your mouth faster than you could think and you waited with baited breath, wondering how he might react. What you weren’t expecting was for him to heave a huge sigh and plant a kiss to the top of your leg.

“Good.” He breathed, warming your skin, while his free hands circled your knees. You bit your bottom lip, trying not to release any noises. The warmth moved high, dangerously close to your core. You wrapped your arms around yourself, both embarrassed and turned on.

“Can I make you feel good Y/N? Can I touch you?” Jungkook seemed nervous himself now, his voice wavering. Yes. God yes. Is what you wanted to say. You ended up with something a little less eloquent.

“Um..sure. Make me feel good Kookie.” His eyes flashed at the nickname and he parted your legs open in a single move. Cold air assaulted your nether regions and you shivered, feeling your wetness already cooling. Jungkook hesitantly ran a finger up your folds, swiping some of the arousal pooling there. You flinched at his touch, watching as he brought the coated limb to his lips, poking his tongue out to taste.

“Wow. That’s how you taste.” With his voice neutral you were unsure whether he was complimenting you or if he was disgusted. You soon got an idea of what his answer would be when Jungkook lowered his head, picking up where Taehyung left off.

His inexperience was obvious by the hesitant flicks of his tongue and by the lack of rhythm in his ‘technique.’ Nevertheless tingles started to surface within you and you squirmed at the feeling.

“Am I hurting you?” Jungkook looked up at you with a concerned expression, eyelashes nearly brushing the bottom of his eyebrow. You swallowed and shook your head, unbelieving of what was happening. How he could manage to look so cute while he was going down on you was a mystery.

“I’ve never..done this before.” He admitted after a pause, his cheeks dusting with color.

“I could help you, if-if that’s cool. You can stop-”

“No. I want too Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” God you shouldn’t have felt such a rush at his compliance but you did. You guided him back down, finding enough confidence to place your hand on his head. A sudden thought popped into your mind.

“Hey Jungkook? Could you maybe undo your bun? I want to touch your hair.” He’s gonna think you’re a freaking weirdo now great.

Wordlessly he removed the elastic without pause, flinging the tie across the room without coming up for air. You let out a trembling breath, weaving your fingers through his hair, marveling at its softness. Jungkook hummed, sending a shock of vibrations and you bucked into his face, nails digging into his scalp.

“Oh!” Gasping for breath you tried to control the rocking of your hips, eyes swiveling in every direction to find something to lock onto too, until they settled on the man on the ground. His own body was reacting similar to yours, lower part pressing up against the couch. He was humping the furniture like a dog in heat and you felt your arousal grow at his neediness. When his lips discovered the small bundle of nerves and started sucking you hissed through your teeth, clenching your jaw so tight it hurt. At this rate you were going to come hard and fast.

Jung-ah! Kook!” The heaving of your chest distorted your exclamation but he seemed to hear you.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His pupils were blown, dark enough to match his hair. The ceiling light caught the reflection of your juices on his chin and you could only conjure up images of everywhere else you wanted his mouth to be.

“N-no. Please Jungkook. I need you up here.” Now who’s the needy one?

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea I’m..” Hard.

“I know. I know.” You grasped his face and coaxed him to join you, bringing your lips together messily, not minding the taste of yourself on him. He was still before coming alive, grasping the back of your neck to intensify the kiss. It was sloppy and loud but you were burning from the inside out, Jungkook a craving you had dreamed of indulging in. You pulled him down on top of you, your head meeting the armrest. In this position you could feel his straining length on your bare thigh and you were grateful you were already prepped. Otherwise there was no way he was fitting inside you without it being painful. You reached down to palm him through the joggers, feeling him twitch and lean into your touch.

“I know this is so sudden and I literally just confessed but can I-ah-fuck you?” He was huffing, breath raspy and hot on the shell of your ear. His politeness only made him more endearing, and you laughed.

“Yes. Please.”

With your spoken consent Jungkook hastily shimmied his pants off, revealing he wasn’t wearing any underwear. You stared at the mass before you, watching as it curved to rest on his hoodie. The tip was leaking, the rest of him red and ready. Jungkook saw your expression and froze.

“If you aren’t sure Y/N-”

You wrapped a hand around him to silence him and he choked, only coming back into himself when you positioned him at your entrance.

“Fuck me or I’ll call Taehyung to do it for you.”

Jungkook slammed home, spurned on by your taunting and your mouth fell open in a silent scream. He was big. Bigger than you initially thought, and tears sprang in the corner of your eyes at the harsh intrusion. Jungkook began to thrust sharply, couch groaning under the fast movements. He had his eyes closed, lip captured between his teeth, completely lost in the moment. You hit his arm until he refocused on you, blinking away the wetness in your eyes.

“Ah-let me-ah-on top. You’re too big.” Jungkook looked apologetic and pulled out, rolling over quickly. His whole body twitched, as if he was still inside you, sweat caked on his skin.

You brought your knees onto the side of his and took him in your hands once more, easing yourself down inch by excruciating inch until he was bottomed out, and you were full. Jungkook jerked then, hitting a spot that had you cry out and you begged for him to do it again. He grabbed your hips hesitantly, only gripping you tighter when you rocked against him, desperate for the friction. Soon the two of you were panting and grinding, tugging on the tops that remained but eventually giving up because neither of you could stand to be any more patient. Jungkook watched through lidded eyes as you bounced on him, letting on high whines that mimicked your own. You were getting tired, nowhere near as athletic as he was and started to slow, panting but trying to reach your end. Jungkook seemed to know of your dilemma because he planted his feet and increased his pace, ramming into you harder and faster than before. You held on to the front of his hoodie, unable to meet his thrusts anymore, only holding on as he brought you both to climax.

You came first, your inner walls fluttering around him as you threw your head back, letting the intense orgasm wash over you. You collapsed on Jungkook’s chest, body spasming as he let out a yell, thrusting two, three more times, before finishing deep inside you. You felt the warmth of his seed and thanked god for the birth control you had started taking on a whim. Not that having a child with Jeon Jungkook was an unappealing idea.

Your mouth was lead, thick and dry in your mouth, your limbs jelly. Holy shit I just slept with my crush and it was amazing. You cuddled his hoodie, despite how hot you felt , sighing in content when his arm came to pull you closer.

“Hey Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“Want to grab lunch after this?”

“Is this you asking me on a date?” You smiled, suppressing a chuckle. There was a pause.

“Yeah. I am.” He did laugh, and you silently thanked Taehyung for bringing you two together, even if it hadn’t been under the best circumstances.

Written by Rose

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histoirerose · 5 years ago

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I think about this susan sontag essay every single day of my life

For the Greeks, beauty was a virtue: a kind of excellence. Persons then were assumed to be what we now have to call—lamely, enviously—whole persons. If it did occur to the Greeks to distinguish between a person's “inside” and “outside,” they still expected that inner beauty would be matched by beauty of the other kind. The well-born young Athenians who gathered around Socrates found it quite paradoxical that their hero was so intelligent, so brave, so honorable, so seductive—and so ugly. One of Socrates' main pedagogical acts was to be ugly—and teach those innocent, no doubt splendid-looking disciples of his how full of paradoxes life really was.

They may have resisted Socrates' lesson. We do not. Several thousand years later, we are more wary of the enchantments of beauty. We not only split off—with the greatest facility—the “inside” (character, intellect) from the “outside” (looks); but we are actually surprised when someone who is beautiful is also intelligent, talented, good.

It was principally the influence of Christianity that deprived beauty of the central place it had in classical ideals of human excellence. By limiting excellence (virtues in Latin) to moral virtue only, Christianity set beauty adrift—as an alienated, arbitrary, superficial enchantment. And beauty has continued to lose prestige. For close to two centuries it has become a convention to attribute beauty to only one of the two sexes: the sex which, however Fair, is always Second. Associating beauty with women had put beauty even further on the defensive, morally.

A beautiful woman, we say in English. But a handsome man. “Handsome” is the masculine equivalent of—and refusal of—a compliment which has accumulated certain demeaning overtones, by being reserved for women only. That one can call a man “beautiful” in French and in Italian suggests that Catholic countries—unlike those countries shaped by the Protestant version of Christianity—still retain some vestiges of the pagan admiration for beauty. But the difference, if one exists, is of degree only. In every modern country that is Christian or post-Christian, women are the beautiful sex— to the detriment of the notion of beauty as well as of women.

To be called beautiful is thought to name something essential to women's character and concerns. (In contrast to men—whose essence is to be strong, or effective, or competent.) It does not take someone in the throes of advanced feminist awareness to perceive that the way women are taught to be involved with beauty encourages narcissism, reinforces dependence and immaturity. Everybody (women and men) knows that. For it is “everybody,” a whole society, that has identified being feminine with caring about how one looks. (In contrast to being masculine—which is identified with caring about what one is and does and only secondarily, if at all, about how one looks.) Given these stereotypes, it is no wonder that beauty enjoys, at best, a rather mixed reputation.

It is not, of course, the desire to be beautiful that is wrong but the obligation to be—or to try. What is accepted by most women as a flattering idealization of their sex is a way of making women feel inferior to what they actually are—or normally grow to be. For the ideal of beauty is administered as a form of self-oppression. Women are taught to see their bodies in parts, and to evaluate each part separately. Breasts, feet, hips, waistline, neck, eyes, nose, complexion, hair, and so on—each in turn is submitted to an anxious, fretful, often despairing scrutiny. Even if some pass muster, some will always be found wanting. Nothing less than perfection will do.

In men, good looks is a whole, something taken in at a glance. It does not need to be confirmed by giving measurements of different regions of the body; nobody encourages a man to dissect his appearance, feature by feature. As for perfection, that is considered trivial—almost unmanly. Indeed, in the ideally good-looking man a small imperfection or blemish is considered positively desirable. According to one movie critic (a woman) who is a declared Robert Redford fan, it is having that cluster of skin-colored moles on one cheek that saves Redford from being merely a “pretty face.” Think of the depreciation of women—as well as of beauty—that is implied in that judgment.

“The privileges of beauty are immense,” said Cocteau. To be sure, beauty is a form of power. And deservedly so. What is lamentable is that it is the only form of power that most women are encouraged to seek. This power is always conceived in relation to men; it is not the power to do but the power to attract. It is a power that negates itself. For this power is not one that can be chosen freely—at least, not by women—or renounced without social censure.

To preen, for a woman, can never be just a pleasure. It is also a duty. It is her work. If a woman does real work—and even if she has clambered up to a leading position in politics, law, medicine, business, or whatever—she is always under pressure to confess that she still works at being attractive. But in so far as she is keeping up as one of the Fair Sex, she brings under suspicion her very capacity to be objective, professional, authoritative, thoughtful. Damned if they do—women are. And damned if they don't.

One could hardly ask for more important evidence of the dangers of considering persons as split between what is “inside” and what is “outside” than that interminable half-comic half-tragic tale, the oppression of women. How easy it is to start off by defining women as caretakers of their surfaces, and then to disparage them (or find them adorable) for being “superficial.” It is a crude trap, and it has worked for too long. But to get out of the trap requires that women get some critical distance from that excellence and privilege which is beauty, enough distance to see how much beauty itself has been abridged in order to prop up the mythology of the “feminine.” There should be a way of saving beauty from women—and for them.

#reading this in my ap lang class changed me forever #like the way she perfectly explains what it's like #idk why im posting this i just can't stop thinking about it #sry :/#mine #susan sontag

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p4lparker · 5 years ago

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I’ll Save You

It was scary. After everything we'd been through; Crazy Peter Hale, Hunters and a Kanima. This was by far the worst threat we'd faced.

Virgin sacrifices.

“What’re you doing?” He repeated, his voice cracking. I looked at his face; his eyebrows were furrowed as they tried to comprehend what was happening.

“What’re you doing Y/N?” He repeated for the third time, hands squeezing at my hips and halting my movements.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

Four times.

“Thank you.” He whispered against my lips, we settled again. Smiling against his chest- listening to his heart beat which was beginning to slow to a normal pace now.

#stiles x reader #stiles smut

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leo-lucid · 5 years ago

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Bewitching Which Monster Chapter 2: The Monsters

I pushed the intruder off of my bed as hard as I could. There was a large thumping sound as the intruder landed on the hardwood floors. They hissed as the pain from the fall set in and I made my way out of bed. I ran out the bedroom, shutting the door behind me to buy some time.

My mind was running haywire, trying to figure out what to do. There weren't any weapons that I could use in the house. At least, not within my reach or within a few feet. I was pretty sure that the intruder wasn't human either so mundane weapons wouldn't work that well.

Magic was the only way I could defend myself. I didn't want to use it because mustering up all of that energy without any tools can be exhausting but I rather be tired than dead.

As I ran down the stairs I began to conjure up some energy within myself. I could hear heavy footsteps close behind me. Just as I was about to turn and cast my fire spell I ran into something hard. I began to fall back from the collision but something caught me just before I hit the ground. Or should I say someone.

I looked up to face a well-built man with a silver side-part hairstyle, an eyepatch over his right eye and some scruff on his chin. His skin seemed to be deathly pale almost to the point that it seemed green.

"I'm very sorry about this, Ms. Devane. I told Draugh that he would scare you like this if he tried to introduce himself the way that he just did." The man apologized. I didn't respond. I was completely frozen.

The stranger that bared fangs and was chasing after me was breathing in heavily from the run. "I thought that she was already asleep, alright? If she hadn't opened her eyes then my plan would've worked."

The man that stopped me from falling loosened his grip on my waist and backed up to give me some air. "Are you okay, Ms. Devane? Draugh didn't hurt you, did he?"

"Quit calling me by my last name! My first name is Endrian and doesn't sound as lame and outdated as Draugh." Endrian raised his voice. "And I didn't hurt her. Not yet at least."

I shuddered at the foreshadowing threat. A new pair of hands were placed on my shoulders from behind me and I jumped. "Aw, did my little Anise get scared by the ugly vampire? Should Cassi comfort you?"

"Stop it! Don't touch me!" I screamed, pulling out of the stranger's grasp. This person had long, flowing purple hair and alluring pink eyes. His skin was fair and clear except for a small mole that decorated the bottom corner on the far side of his left eye. The detail that gave away that he wasn't from this world was the two, light brown horns that grew from his head. The left was sloped down and lifted up at the tip, the other was broken closer to the base.

"Who's the ugly one now, Mister Pretty Boy?" Endrian mocked. He had short, fire-red hair and sharp blood-red eyes. He was pale as well but not like a sickly pale, more like albino pale. A beauty mark sat just under the arch of his left eyebrow.

"Everyone just shut up!" I yelled once more. "Who are you people? What are you doing in my house?"

They all grew silent and didn't make eye contact with me. "Someone answer me before I cast my fire spell towards all of you!"

The eye-patch guy held up his hands to try to calm me down. "That won't be necessary, Ms. Devane. We'll- Or should I say I will explain everything. Shall we sit in a living room while I make us some tea?"

Despite his shady and overall appearance, I couldn't help but feel calm and grateful for his suggestion. I nodded and made my way to one of the nearest living rooms. Endrian sighed. "I guess I'll get the dog and Phantom of the Opera."

"I'm here." I quiet voice spoke up from out of nowhere. A boy floated into the room and hovered just a few inches above the couch. His white bangs covered his left eye, leaving only a gentle lilac eye for me to see. He didn't meet anyone's gaze and placed his hands politely in his lap. Upon further inspection I came to the realization that he was also slightly transparent.

This boy was a ghost.

I turned to the guy who called himself Cassi. "Seriously, what is going on here?"

He gave a seductive smirk and draped his arm around me. "You are one very special girl, My Angel." He simply said. I shrugged off his arm and sat down in an armchair adjacent to the couch.

Endrian returned to the room with a tall, shaggy haired guy with two wolf ears sticking out among his chocolate brown locks. He yawned and took the seat on the couch that was closest to me. When his friendly forest green eyes met my sapphire ones he lit up and a tail behind him began to wag.

That would explain the fur I found outside my bathroom door.

Eye-patch Guy came back with a silver tray and seven cups of tea. I looked around, searching for a seventh guest.

A window facing the garden opened up slowly and a girl with sepia skin, lavish rose pink hair and sunflower yellow eyes peeked in. I was shocked that she made an appearance considering that this living room and window was on the third floor of the house. She was handed a cup of tea and she gave a warm smile. "Thank you, Zamuel."

Eye-patch Guy who I finally learned was called Zamuel nodded and passed some more teacups around. As soon as I was handed my cup I cut right to the chase. "Who are you guys? Why are you all in my house?"

Zamuel started to answer me. "To spare you all of our backstories I'll answer you with simple answers. We are all monsters of some form or another that are trapped within this house or town. Some of us were cursed, some of us simply died and some of us just grew up here and may never leave. Your grandmother was trying to find a way to help us all until she suddenly passed away."

"She was using a lot of her own energy for her magic in order to save us. She was already old so it was no surprise when she finally kicked the bucket." Endrian crudely spoke.

Zamuel frowned at him but didn't scold him. "Before she passed away she mentioned that she had an idea but it would involve you, her granddaughter. We all waited for your arrival to ask if you have any information regarding the idea your grandmother had. Our introductions weren't ideal and for that I apologize."

I set my teacup down to let the information settle in. "This wasn't expected, I have to admit. But, I suppose that all that matters now is finishing my grandmother's work to help you all. She didn't mention this to me at all so of course I was surprised. She may have something written in one of her books in the Witch Room."

"Great!" The werewolf boy exclaimed, jumping up from the couch. "We can just go down there right now and grab all of the book from the shelves to see if there's a last message! You're so smart, Anise!"

"Wulf, please calm yourself. That may wait until tomorrow when Ms. Devane has a chance to settle in. It's already late and she must've been through a lot tonight."

Wulf suddenly sat back down and pouted. "Yeah, I guess you're right, Zam."

"I am really tired and all of the chaos that happened before this meeting didn't exactly help me feel refreshed. I would still like a more formal introduction though." I admitted.

"Of course." Zamuel responded. He bowed like a gentleman and took my hand. "I am Zamuel, a butler that works around here. I'm a zombie but I would prefer it if you don't use that term to describe me. Zamuel or Zam are fine names to call me by."

I could feel a shy smile form on my face. His uncovered steel-grey eye was kind and comforting. "Nice to meet you, Zamuel."

"I'm Beofur Wulf! Beo is just fine though. I'm a werewolf and I don't do much around here except running and talking with the locals." Beo excitedly presented himself. His tail was wagging as fast as a race car.

The ghost cleared his throat and spoke with a soft voice. "Danton Ghothel. I'm a ghost. I-"

"Cassius Faren!" Cassius interrupted. "But you can call me Cassi, My Angel. I'm an incubus so that means that I'm the hottest one around here and the most fun to be around, if you know what I mean."

Endrian rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb towards himself. "Endrian Draugh. Vampire. Don't bother getting to know me because I'm not interested in making friends."

There was a tisk from the girl from the window. "You shouldn't be so mean, Endrian. I'll show you how to make a nice greeting."

She turned towards me and gave me a bright smile. "Hello, I'm Mystis Lodyga. I'm a nymph that resides in the garden. It's a pleasure to meet you, Anise."

I gave her a small wave from my seat. "Likewise. Well, it's only polite if I present myself too even though you all know who I am already. I'm Anise Devane. I'm a witch and I hope that living with all of you until I find the way to free you all is peaceful and enjoyable."

As all eyes were focused on me I could feel my heart quicken its pace. I gulped and chugged the rest of my tea. "I think it's time for me to go to bed now! I'll see you all tomorrow! Bye."

I rushed out of the room to head to my bedroom. A sigh of relief escaped me as I closed and locked the door. The idea of living with a bunch of strangers that were mostly men was finally settling in. My nerves were beginning to get the best of me as soon as they all stared at me. I could tell that they were already judging me and forming expectations.

I hoped that my grandma left some note for me, otherwise I would have no clue how to start helping them.

That was for tomorrow. Or at least in a few hours. For now it was best to get some sleep and be ready to get to work as soon as the moving truck comes in.

Waking up a few hours later was hard for me to do since I ended up staying up so late. Part of it was because I was thinking about my new monster roommates and the other part of it was about me thinking of places where grandma may have an answer to restore their humanity.

I rubbed my eyes and knocked the blanket off with my legs. A thought suddenly popped into my head and I looked down. Heat rushed over my cheeks as I realized that I was having the conversation last night in only a long shirt.

A knock sounded from my door and I subconsciously pulled my shirt over my legs. "Y-yes?"

"Excuse me, Ms. Devane. I have breakfast ready for you and your moving truck is here. I told them that they can get started with the unloading and you will be down shortly." Zamuel informed.

"Okay! Just give me a second to get ready to come down." I dismissed. The idea that I had a butler made me feel weird. Even if it was only for a short time and this was his job I still felt guilty for making him wait for me and feeling obligated to make breakfast.

I got out of bed and began to get dressed in some old jeans and a black tank top. It was best to dress in something comfy and allowed me to be flexible while moving furniture. Once I was dressed, I grabbed my hair tie from last night and fixed my hair up into a loose bun.

Before I left the room I examined myself in the mirror. My taupe brown skin was clear of pimples and zits. I looked at my freckles on across my nose and cheeks. Was I getting more freckles? Maybe I should apply some sunscreen before helped unload the truck.

A loud bang on my door startled me. "Hey, Princess! Get your butt out here! Zam won't let any of us eat until you're at the table!" Endrian shouted. Judging by his tone it was best not to keep him waiting.

I left my room as Endrian was already heading down to the first floor kitchen and dining room. I followed behind him, making sure I was several feet back. Out of all of my new roommates Endrian was the most intimidating by far. Him being a vampire and the fact that he was ready to drink my blood last night made it worse.

My eyes landed on the dining table that Zamuel set up for breakfast. I had no idea where he got all the ingredients to make such a scrumptious breakfast but I was glad that he found them. Zamuel pulled out a chair for me to sit in at the head of the table.

"Good morning, Anise!" Beo cheerfully greeted me. "If you don't want your bacon I'll be more than happy to take care of it for you!"

I suppressed a giggle. "Noted. You guys didn't have to wait for me. I don't usually eat breakfast all that often so if you were all waiting for me on a day that I don't eat I'd feel terrible."

"Nonsense, Ms. Devane. From now on as long as I'm in this house then you'll eat a breakfast every morning. It's the most important meal of the day and you'll need the energy to search for any notes your grandmother left behind. I'll take care of the moving truck and movers so you can focus on what's most important. Would you like tea or coffee to go with your french toast and bacon?" Zamuel explained.

"Coffee please." I simply answered.

While my coffee was being prepared for me I noticed how full the table was. Almost everyone was seated at the table, even Danton who I think couldn't actually eat. Still, he sat with everyone, reading a book. Mystis was enjoying breakfast outside the open window across from us.

I didn't think I would have so many people in my life so soon. I thought that I was going to be eating alone. Despite my nervousness and my introverted personality, I was a little happy to be surrounded like this.

I couldn't help but think that it would be nice if everyone could be like this for a while.

#creative writing #novel #romance #writeblr #reverse harem

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lets-talk-story · 6 years ago

Text

Pied Piper of Hamelin

Hamelin town's in Brunswick, By famous Hanover city; The River Weser, deep and wide, Washes its wall on the southern side; A pleasanter spot you never spied; But, when begins my ditty, Almost five hundred years ago, To see townsfolk suffer so From vermin, was a pity.

Rats! They fought the dogs, and killed the cats, And bit the babies in the cradles, And ate the cheeses out of the vats, And licked the soup from the cook's own ladles, Split open the kegs of salted sprats, Made nests inside men's Sunday hats, And even spoiled the women's chats, By drowning their speaking With shrieking and squeaking In fifty different sharps and flats.

At last the people in a body To the Town Hall came flocking: "'Tis clear," cried they, "our Mayor's a noddy; And as for our Corporation -- shocking To think we buy gowns lined with ermine For dolts that can't or won't determine What's best to rid us of our vermin! You hope, because you're old and obese, To find in the furry civic robe ease? Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking To find the remedy we're lacking, Or, sure as fate, we'll send you packing!" At this the Mayor and Corporation Quaked with a mighty consternation.

An hour they sate in council, At length the Mayor broke silence: "For a guilder I'd my ermine gown sell, I wish I were a mile hence! It's easy to bid one rack one's brain -- I'm sure my poor head aches again I've scratched it so, and all in vain. Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!" Just as he said this, what should hap At the chamber-door but a gentle tap? "Bless us," cried the Mayor, "What's that?" (With the Corporation as he sat, Looking little though wondrous fat; Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister Than a too-long-opened oyster, Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous For a plate of turtle, green and glutinous.) "Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? Anything like the sound of a rat Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!"

"Come in!" -- the Mayor cried, looking bigger: And in did come the strangest figure! His queer long coat from heel to head Was half of yellow and half of red; And he himself was tall and thin, With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, No tuft on cheek nor beard on chin, But lips where smiles went out and in -- There was no guessing his kith and kin! And nobody could enough admire The tall man and his quaint attire. Quoth one: "It's as my great-grandsire, Starting up at the Trump of Doom's tone, Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!"

He advanced to the council-table: And, "Please your honors," said he, "I'm able, By means of a secret charm, to draw All creatures living beneath the sun, That creep, or swim, or fly, or run, After me so as you never saw! And I chiefly use my charm On creatures that do people harm, The mole, and toad, and newt, and viper; And people call me the Pied Piper." (And here they noticed round his neck A scarf of red and yellow stripe, To match with his coat of selfsame cheque; And at the scarf's end hung a pipe; And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying As if impatient to be playing Upon this pipe, as low it dangled Over his vesture, so old-fangled.) "Yet," said he "poor piper as I am, In Tartary I freed the Cham, Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; I eased in Asia the Nizam Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats: And, as for what your brain bewilders, If I can rid your town of rats Will you give me a thousand guilders?" "One? fifty thousand!" -- was the exclamation Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.

Into the street the Piper stept, Smiling first a little smile, As if he knew what magic slept In his quiet pipe the while; Then, like a musical adept, To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled Like a candle flame where salt is sprinkled; And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, You heard as if an army muttered; And the muttering grew to a grumbling; And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; And out of the houses the rats came tumbling: Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, Brown rats, black rats, grey rats, tawny rats, Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, Cocking tails and pricking whiskers, Families by tens and dozens, Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives -- Followed the Piper for their lives. From street to street he piped, advancing, And step for step, they followed, dancing, Until they came to the river Weser Wherein all plunged and perished -- Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, Swam across and lived to carry (As he the manuscript he cherished) To Rat-land home his commentary: Which was, "At the first shrill notes of the pipe, I heard a sound as of scraping tripe, And putting apples, wondrous ripe, Into a cider press's gripe: And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, And the drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; And it seemed as if a voice (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery Is breathed) called out, Oh rats, rejoice! The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon! And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, All ready staved, like a great sun shone Glorious scarce an inch before me, Just as methought it said, 'Come, bore me!' -- I found the Weser rolling o'er me."

You should have heard the Hamelin people Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple. "Go," cried the Mayor, "and get long poles! Poke out the nests and block up the holes! Consult with carpenters and builders, And leave in our town not even a trace Of the rats!" -- when suddenly up the face Of the Piper perked in the market-place, With a, "First, if you please, my thousand guilders!"

A thousand guilders! The Mayor looked blue; So did the Corporation, too. For council dinners made rare havoc With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; And half the money would replenish Their cellar's biggest butt with Rhenish. To pay this sum to a wandering fellow With a gypsy coat of red and yellow! "Beside," quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink, "Our business was done at the river's brink; We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, And what's dead can't come to life, I think. So, friend, we're not the folks to shrink From the duty of giving you something for drink, And a matter of money to put in your poke; But, as for the guilders, what we spoke Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. Beside, our losses have made us thrifty: A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!"

The Piper's face fell, and he cried, "No trifling! I can't wait, beside! I've promised to visit, by dinner-time Bagdat, and accept the prime Of the Head Cook's pottage, all he's rich in, For having left, in the Caliph's kitchen, Of a nest of scorpions no survivor: With him I proved no bargain-driver, With you, don't think I'll bait a stiver! And folks who put me in a passion May find me pipe to another fashion."

"How?" cried the Mayor, "d'ye think I brook Being worse treated than a cook? Insulted by a lazy ribald With idle pipe and vesture piebald? You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, Blow your pipe there till you burst!"

Once more he stept into the street; And to his lips again Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; And ere he blew three notes (such sweet Soft notes as yet musician's cunning Never gave the enraptured air) There was a rustling, that seemed like a bustling Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling, Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering, And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, Out came the children running. All the little boys and girls, With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.

The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood As if they were changed into blocks of wood, Unable to move a step, or cry To the children merrily skipping by, -- Could only follow with the eye That joyous crowd at the Piper's back. But how the Mayor was on the rack, And the wretched Council's bosoms beat, As the Piper turned from the High Street To where the Weser rolled its waters Right in the way of their sons and daughters! However he turned from South to West, And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, And after him the children pressed; Great was the joy in every breast. "He never can cross that mighty top! He's forced to let the piping drop, And we shall see our children stop!" When, lo! as they reached the mountain-side, A wondrous portal opened wide, As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; And the Piper advanced and the children followed, And when all were in to the very last, The door in the mountain-side shut fast. Did I say, all? No! One was lame, And could not dance the whole of the way; And in after years, if you would blame His sadness, he was used to say, -- "It's dull in our town since my playmates left! I can't forget that I'm bereft Of all the pleasant sights they see, Which the Piper also promised me; For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, Joining the town and just at hand, Where waters gushed and fruit-trees grew, And flowers put forth a fairer hue, And everything was strange and new; The sparrows were brighter than the peacocks here, And their dogs outran our fallow deer, And honey-bees had lost their stings, And horses were born with eagles' wings; And just as I became assured My lame foot would be speedily cured, The music stopped and I stood still, And found myself outside the hill, Left alone against my will, To go now limping as before, And never hear of that country more!"

Alas, alas for Hamelin! There came into many a burgher's pate A text which says, that heaven's Gate Opes to the rich at as easy rate As the needle's eye takes a camel in! The Mayor sent East, West, North, and South To offer the Piper by word of mouth, Wherever it was men's lot to find him, Silver and gold to his heart's content, If he'd only return the way he went, And bring the children behind him. But when they saw 'twas a lost endeavor, And Piper and dancers were gone forever, They made a decree that lawyers never Should think their records dated duly If, after the day of the month and year, These words did not as well appear, "And so long after what happened here On the Twenty-second of July, Thirteen hundred and Seventy-six;" And the better in memory to fix The place of the children's last retreat, They called it, the Pied Piper's Street -- Where any one playing on pipe or tabor Was sure for the future to lose his labor. Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern To shock with mirth a street so solemn; But opposite the place of the cavern They wrote the story on a column, And on the great church-window painted The same, to make the world acquainted How their children were stolen away, And there it stands to this very day. And I must not omit to say That in Transylvania there's a tribe Of alien people that ascribe The outlandish ways and dress On which their neighbors lay such stress, To their fathers and mothers having risen Out of some subterraneous prison Into which they were trepanned Long time ago in a mighty band Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, But how or why, they don't understand.

So, Willy, let you and me be wipers Of scores out with all men -- especially pipers; And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, If we've promised them aught, let us keep our promise.

#pied piper #pied piper of hamelin #poem #nursery rhymes #poetry #mice #children #music

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