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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

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Meeting your alien husband

General Plot: You've been sold to aliens so you are taking the bus to meet your new husband, only you are attacked and a kind alien steps in to help.

A/N: this is a longish multi part one that I'm editing and posting as I edit it. I've been wanting to do some yandere vs. yandere so that's kinda what this is, lol

Kherae alien x female reader with glasses

💕 SFW MASTERPOST 💕

Word Count: 4K

W: kidnapping, forced marriage, sfw alien fluff, yandere vs. yandere

Prince Levell grasped Elaine’s thin wrist, drawing her towards him.

“You are the jewel of this court, my love, I’ll never let you go,” his tenor whispered in her ear.

Your heart fluttered. You were almost finished with The Prince and the Dawn and it was even better than the prequel, The Thief and the Dusk.

The villain, the first prince from the previous novel, having lost the object of his desire to the dashing hero, finally gets his happy ending with a blind hermit who softens his cold heart. Your eyes prickled with tears.

Their love story…the way she changed the prince from a cold tyrant to a sensitive, benevolent ruler and brings happiness to the kingdom was incredibly romantic. You sighed, sniffling a little. If only such romances were real. Instead, you were trapped in a tragedy.

The bus you were riding came to a stop and you hopped up to get off. You took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. You were on your way to greet your fate.

You had been sold to the Kherae, the aliens that had descended on Earth and saved humans from the horrible Golt. There had been a long and brutal war, but finally it seemed as if The Golt had retreated and the galaxy was safe-er. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. When the Kherae discovered human females could breed with them, they promised humanity they only wanted voluntary relationships...mates, they said. They would not take.

Maybe that was true for 98% of the handsome aliens, but there was a rotten apple in every bunch and you were about to meet one of them. Your father owed some nasty people a lot of money and they’d facilitated your sale to the corrupt Kherae archduke to clear the debt.

You could have run away, disappeared and started a new life somewhere else. You didn’t owe your father anything, but you had a soft heart and you loved him. He’d built his business as a single dad with his blood, sweat, and tears. When organized crime moved into the neighborhood he wasn’t immune to their influence. Your father wasn’t a bad man and you wouldn’t let him lose everything he built or his life over mistakes he couldn’t have avoided. That’s why despite his protests, you were turning yourself in to your future husband.

You steadied your breath as with each step your future came closer.

A shriek escaped your lips as large hands latched onto your arms. You looked around to find you were surrounded by three or four human men.

“This the one?” one of them said.

“Yeah, (Y/C) hair, glasses, this is her,” another said.

You struggled and tried to break free but they were thugs and there were more of them than you. You tried to scream for help, but a large hand clamped over your mouth and your glasses flew off of your face.You heard the glass crunch under someone’s foot. Your world had gone blurry. You were basically blind without them.

Disoriented and terrified you kicked and scratched, but it was no use, the group was dragging you towards an alleyway.

Suddenly there was a THUNK and the hands holding you released. Around you blurry figures moved and you could hear bone breaking, but you couldn’t process what was happening and just stood there clutching the hem of your skirt. Before long it was quiet and a large purple blur approached you.

You held out your hands, trying to orient yourself and met firm forearms.

“Are you okay, miss?” a deep voice asked in Kherae. The translator you all had installed since the Kherae came to integrate worked out his words for you. His large fingers twined with yours to steady you.

“I’m fine. I just can’t see without my glasses,” you said, clinging to his strong fingers, “do you see them anywhere?”

You heard the tinkle of glass.

“I don’t think you will be able to use these,” he said and you knew your precious lifeline was destroyed.

“Where are you going? I can help you get there,” he offered.

You gave him a wan smile.

“That’s really kind, but I couldn’t trouble you,” you said.

He chuckled.

“You aren’t going to make it very far on your own, let me help. Where are you going?”

“The Zovith building,” you explained. You were headed to the building owned by your future husband, a brand new glass and steel monstrosity in the middle of downtown.

He halted.

“Why are you going there?” he asked.

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you thought better of it.

“I’m going to meet my future husband,” you explained.

“You look frightened,” he commented.

“I committed to this and I want to make a good impression but I can’t go back home to get new glasses. I’m already late and if I don’t show up there are consequences.”

He paused for a moment.

“Then let’s get you there quickly,” he said and swept you up in his arms.

You shouted in surprise, but he took off at a jog down the street. When you arrived he gently set you in a chair in the waiting room.

“I’ll let someone know you’ve arrived. Just wait here,” he said.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Almost being kidnapped had started the beat and now you panted as you waited for your fate. It was even worse because you couldn’t see anything. You wouldn’t even know what your husband looked like.

–

“I don’t want to marry a filthy human,” Idreod’s brother sneered for the thirtieth time.

Idreod ordered him to marry so that their family name would continue on. He had no interest in a wife, but if Dessin wanted to keep his monthly stipend he’d demanded that he would seed his family an heir. A wife seemed like a lot of trouble to him that could easily be delegated to a lesser, Dessin. He wouldn’t have their name be associated with a slew of bastard children, either. He would have a proper wife and represent the Zovith family well.

Unfortunately for him, Dessin had a thing for Elians and had no interest in children. He planned on falling in love with a pleasure worker and pulling her out of destitution to earn her love. Elians weren’t biologically compatible with Kherae, so they would never bear children, but he didn’t care. It was a foolish plan, but at least he had romantic dreams.

Up until that day Idreod’s plan for him was to buy him a wife, force them to marry, and take their child as his heir to hand down the Zovith duchy. He wasn’t a kind or benevolent Kherae. He made demands and his lessers followed them.

Dessin did nothing but throw money away at pleasure houses, he could take on the small responsibility of fucking a human to pay for his good fortune to be born his brother. He’d never have to worry over the child. Idreod would continue to pay his stipend and raise it in his image. He and his wife could spend his money and take as many lovers as they liked as long as they were discreet. That was the cost of doing business.

When the Kherae females had been extinguished all hope had been lost for a future for his family, but now that he’d learned that humans were universal breeders, the legacy he’d built could live on. The Zovith would become a dynasty. That was his vision. Human females could have two handfuls of children. He would herald in a prosperous generation.

“Fine,” Idreod said, “you don’t have to marry her.”

“What?” Dessin asked, looking at him, “what game are you playing at? I’m not donating my sperm if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

He walked across his office to a drink tray one of the maids had provided and took a sip of some nutty alcohol. He poured some for his brother and handed him a glass, winking at him.

“No game. I’m releasing you from your duty,” he said, smiling.

He was in a good mood. That day had been productive. He’d almost made an egregious mistake marrying the beautiful woman he’d met on the street off to his idiot brother. He could already see his kits running around with his black horns and your (Y/EC) eyes.

Dessin took a step towards him.

“So you’re cutting me off then,” he said in a low voice.

Idreod chuckled to himself. Of course he would be worried about that. Dessin couldn’t do anything for himself. If he were on his own, he’d already be living on the street. He relied on Idreod for everything. Fortunately, as the only other surviving member of the Zovith family, his brother indulged him. Someone should enjoy the wealth he accumulated and he had enough to last lifetimes.

“Don’t panic. I’m not cutting you off. I’ve just had a change of heart. I’ve decided to take a wife after all,” he explained.

He snorted.

“You? Goddess, poor woman,” he chortled.

“Well you can express your sympathy yourself when you meet her,” he hit a button on the tablet on his desk, “Airies, bring up Miss (Y/LN).”

Dessin grinned.

“This I’ve got to see,” he laughed, taking a seat in one of the plush chairs in his brother’s office, “what hideous shrew were you trying to stick me with?”

A few minutes later Idreod’s secretary, Airies led the woman who would be his wife, you, in by the hand.

You still couldn’t see and you were a bit unsteady on your feet, like a doe taking its first steps. You’d dressed for the occasion, wearing a chaste navy dress. You wore sensible, low navy heels. Idreod appreciated that you were demure. You’d make a perfect wife to an archduke. In front of you, you could only make out the brown of the office walls and a tall purple blob in front of you.

“Um, hello,” you said, waving vaguely in the blob’s direction, “I was told to come here to meet my husband.”

There was a thunk as a glass hit the table. A blob, who happened to be Dessin, rose from his chair and you looked at him startled, narrowing your eyes as you tried to focus.

“You have to forgive me,” you said, “my glasses were broken in an attack on the way here. I can’t really see anything. I’m legally blind without them.”

“That’s all right, beautiful,” Dessin said, taking your hand. Idreod glared at him, unsure what game he was playing. Was he trying to goad him?

He led you to the chair he’d just risen from.

“Take a seat, I wouldn’t want my precious fiance to hurt herself stumbling around,” he went on, “you had a difficult time, please rest.”

“You’re my husband?” you asked quietly, shaking a little.

“No, he is not.” Idreod snapped, crossing the room and yanking Dessin away from you.

“My brother is playing a little joke on you,” he said, “I am your fiance.”

“Now wait a minute,” Dessin said, putting his hand on your shoulder, “I think I pushed my future wife away too easily. Now that I see her-”

“No.” he bit out, “she is mine.”

“But you promised her to me! Now I’m agreeing to it and you’re changing your mind. I’ll do it, okay? It’s fine!”

“Absolutely not, if you are going to keep playing this game, get out,” he boomed.

“I want her!” Dessin shouted like a petulant child.

“That’s a shame, because. She. Is. Mine.” Idreod replied, slowly so he would understand. Dessin didn’t dare defy his brother. His whole life hung on his whims.

You trembled openly in front of them and you couldn’t see it but Dessin glared, before storming out and slamming the door behind him.

Your husband didn’t seem quite as nice as the male he had driven off. Of course, you would have that sort of luck. If only he could be more like that Kherae on the street who saved me. I didn’t even get a chance to thank him.

“We’ll get you new glasses tomorrow,” he said curtly.

“I didn’t bring anything with me, I wasn’t sure if I would be allowed to go home for my things,” you said, “they just told me to show up here.”

“We will buy you new things,” he assured you.

So no, then.

He walked across the room, back to his desk and pressed a button on the tablet pad.

“Airies, bring tea for Miss (Y/LN),” he said in a clipped tone.

A minute later the shorter Kherae came in with a tray of tea, which he set down in front of you. You fumbled around the tray with your hands for the cup.

You heard a chair scrape the floor and the blob was in front of you.

“Here,” he said, his large fingers gingerly guiding you to the cup. They were a bit familiar, but you were too nervous to worry about it.

You drew the tea to your lips and took a shaky sip. The warm water and jasmine scent was a blessing. You felt like you were walking a tightrope. You could feel the heat of his body near you and just barely caught the scent of familiar cologne. Maybe you had smelled it in a shop before. What will he do with me? The teacup hit the saucer with a rattle. He rose and retreated across the room, back to his desk.

“Our wedding will be in a month,” he said, getting right to the point.

No, “let’s get to know each other.” Just, “We’re getting married.”

“It will be a large event because of my status as archduke, so I will need to prepare you. It’s likely the king will attend and you cannot offend him,” he stated crisply.

He’s quite arrogant.

“Sure,” you said, looking at your shoes, “I’ll do my best.”

“You will be perfect because I will prepare you,” he said.

Great.

You tried not to groan in front of him. He didn’t seem like a male who tolerated attitude.

“Can I ask you something?” you said, still looking at your feet.

“You can ask me anything,” he said, which surprised you.

“Will you be gentle with me? You know…when it’s the first time…?”

There was a pause.

“We’ll speak more about bedroom matters when we are better acquainted. I have no interest in taking a stranger between my sheets,” he said and you felt silly for saying anything.

Your new husband surprised you again. You assumed he would be cold when it came to passion, but he seemed a bit sentimental.

“What should I call you?” you asked, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Idreod, you will be my wife so you may call me by my first name,” he said.

“I’m (Y/N),” you offered.

He paused.

“I know.”

“Oh.”

There was a bit of an awkward pause.

“Um…so what do you do for fun?” you asked the first thing that popped into your mind.

“Fun?” he asked in a chilly tenor.

“Right, you probably don’t-” you trailed off and blushed.

“I’ve never done anything in my life for fun,” he said blandly.

“Of course not,” you agreed.

“I do like training…” he offered, sounding suspiciously shy.

“Do you think I could train with you?” you asked.

There was silence.

“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, “you’ll hold me back. You are nowhere near my skill level.”

You blushed.

“You’re right. That was stupid of me…I just thought…”

You paused.

“You thought…? Don’t leave sentences unfinished. It’s a sign of poor will.”

You gulped.

“I just wanted to get to know you better since you’re going to be my husband and all,” you said the words all in one rushed breath.

“Ah, that’s wise. You’re quite clever. You should know what pleases me. I will compose a document of my likes and dislikes and have Airies pass it to you when it’s complete. You can study it,” he said.

You blinked.

“Um…okay, then,” you mumbled. That wasn’t exactly what you’d meant.

“Do you have any aptitude for mathematics?” he asked.

“I’m sorry?” you asked, unsure where this was going.

“You are a Zovith now. Starting today I will need to train you to be my replacement as head of the family in the case of my untimely death. As you saw, my brother is an idiot. If you are remotely competent, I’ll need to show the basics of running the estate.

“You came here, unsure of what to expect on your own two feet, so I know you have enough spine for it. Of course, your main role here is mother to my heirs, but it is always a good idea to prepare contingencies and I am very thorough.”

Your mouth hung open. You weren't sure if you were being complimented or insulted. Were you a broodmare or future head of the family?

“I worked in finance,” you said, “I can handle a bit of business arithmetic.”

“Hmph,” he said to himself, “she can’t be worse than Dessin.”

“Allright,” he went on, “tomorrow I will bring your father to the estate and you will begin working with me on it.”

“My father?” you gasped. You were sure you’d never see him again. A bit of the ice in your heart melted in relief.

His tone got stern.

“Yes, (Y/N), I am an archduke. I can’t be associated with street level criminals. Your father will be brought here and given some frivolous role to disconnect him from organized crime. It can’t get out that he sold you to me, so it must appear that we are in some way associated. He can be vice president of a vineyard or something. I’m told we have some in our portfolio.”

You stood up, annoyed.

“But my father built his business from the ground up!” you snapped, “you can’t just yank him away from it. That was the whole point of all this!”

“Being father of the archduchess of Akhet is a far more important role than some silly laundry shop!” he barked back.

“You don’t know anything about what’s important,” you griped.

“I will educate you on that,” he said firmly.

You huffed, but you couldn’t even see him to give him a proper stink eye.

“I think we’ve all had enough excitement for today,” he said, sounding a bit tired, “I’ll have Airies take you to your room.”

You took a deep breath, trying to gather control over my emotions.

The shorter blob that was Airies came a moment later and escorted you out, by the hand.

“Please excuse the archduke, my lady. I can see he’s upset you,” Aries said as your heels clicked on the marble floor, “he’s never been in the company of a female for more than a paid hour. We’ve all gotten used to his prickly attitude, but it must be shocking to someone new.”

You snickered a little and pressed your lips together to try and hide it, but you could hear the smile in Airies’ voice.

He led you to a room and helped you find the bed.

“I’ll have the optometrist come see you in the morning and we will have your prescription prepared,” he said, handing you a soft, folded negligee. He guided your hands over to a small tablet screen. His fingers were much more soft and narrow than the archduke’s.

“Press one of these buttons if you would like a maid to come help you,” he said.

He paused at the door.

“If you don’t mind me saying this, my lady, it’s been a long time since we Kherae have had someone fair and soft to care for, please take full advantage of that. If you want anything at all, you only need to ask.”

You nodded and thanked him and he left you to change into your nightgown. You wished you could have seen it properly, because it was very soft and cozy. You were just tucking yourself into the covers when there was a knock at the door.

“Hello?” you asked, “come in…”

The door wasn’t locked. You wondered if it was a maid. Instead a purple figure filled the doorway. It wasn’t Airies, because he was shorter, but it wasn’t quite as tall as the duke.

“It’s me Dessin,” the archduke’s brother said, “we didn’t have a chance to be properly introduced.”

You blushed.

“It’s a little strange for you to come so late,” you said, a little frightened.

He chuckled.

“I have no ill intentions. I just wanted to say something to you privately without my brother around,” he said, “since you will be my sister soon, there are things you should know about him.”

“Oh?” you asked, “well then say it quickly. I was just going to sleep.”

“It’s just that…I want you to know I’m on your side (Y/N). My brother is a monster. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t know anything about love or passion, he just wants another pawn to play with. If you need help or a confidant…just know you can rely on me,” he said.

You chewed your lip. You weren’t sure what to make of that, but there is one thing you needed help with.

“Well there is one thing. You probably know everyone in the building, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he said.

“When I was attacked today, I was saved by a kind Kherae. I didn’t have my glasses on so I couldn’t see him and I was frightened so I hardly remember anything about him. Do you think you could ask around? I’d like to thank him personally.”

There was a pause.

“Oh…(Y/N). You don’t recognize me?” he asked.

You blinked, confused.

“You?”

You could have sworn your protector had been taller, but you’d been frightened, you may have inflated his assets.

“Yes, I was the one who found you today,” he said, “and I brought you back here.”

That didn’t sound quite right, but who would lie about something like that? You must have just remembered him incorrectly.

“Oh, silly me. I must have really been frightened,” you said and wobbled across the room to him. You leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed him on his cheek. He didn’t smell quite right either, but you brushed it off. Perhaps he’d had a shower.

“Really, Thank you,” you said, “I think I’ll head to bed now, if you don’t mind.”

Dessin was silent for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“Right,” he said, “well…goodnight (Y/N). Remember what I said. If you need me, I’m here.”When you were under the covers, you sighed. What luck did you have that the brother of your soon to be husband was the nice one? What would your life be like if he had been the one to win the fight over you earlier? This was a tragedy of course, not a romance, you reminded yourself as you fell asleep.

#alien fluff #sfw alien fluff #monster fluff #sfw monster fluff #exophelia #x reader #monster x reader #alien oc #alien x reader #yandere male #yandere fluff #yandere x reader

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powderblueblood · 5 months

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HELLFIRE & ICE — eddie munson x f!oc as enemies to star-crossed lovers

CHAPTER TWO — VIOLENT DELIGHTS at HARRINGTON’S HOUSE

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summary: it's a rager at the harrington household! you attempt to reconnect with carol, tommy and the gang (it goes horribly, but they started it), accidentally connect with robin buckley and inadvertently have your life saved by eddie munson and his stupid van. you swear, this guy is following you. content warnings: NSFW / MINORS DNI swearing boots the house down, underage drinking, good old fashioned 80s homophobia and slut shaming, mean mom moment, implied attempted sexual assault, billy hargrove haters club (sorry) word count: 4.7k

Dear reader, I know you think of yourself as a harsh person.

Cold and exacting, surgical in the way you deal with people. You put on a good show, though, masking it all up with quiet confidence and pretty smiles. The prettiest smiles. And you’re never too mean. At least, not out loud.

It’s different when it comes to him, though. With him, you’ve got all the reason in the world to be mean. Vicious, even.

His dad is the reason your dad is in prison. That simple fact makes you want to grab his ridiculous hair and slam his head against the lockers so his ears ring.

Al Munson probably has no bearing on the way Eddie Munson lives his life, because he’s a deadbeat the way his son is destined to be a deadbeat. But the mere genetic suggestion of that piece of shit is enough for you to want to cut the brake lines in his little boy’s van.

You’re trying not to think about it too much, but it’s harder and harder when he’s right across the fucking lot, playing the same pedantic guitar riff over and over and over and–

Ssskrrrp.

The pressure you’ve been putting on your poor fountain pen tears through the lined paper, interrupting your line of thinking.

What doesn’t interrupt, what has no sign of stopping, is Munson’s incessant fretboard shredding coupled with–Christ almighty–an ear piercing harmonica. And look, you’re not one to ignore technique– he’s fine, you suppose, as much as anyone who can adequately handle an instrument can be fine, but it’s the fact that he keeps going. He’s relentless.

Doesn’t this place get noise complaints?

You almost yank up your window and aim the nearest heavy thing in reach–a commemorative Indianapolis Christmapolis snowglobe from 1981–toward Munson’s window in the hope that it sails clean in and puts a hole right through his amp, but you stop yourself short.

You do not exist to me and I better not exist to you.

You’re a woman of your word.

And you’ve got a party to get ready for.

You’ll admit, the trepidation factor of showing up to Steve Harrington’s house after your trailer trash makeunder is major. This is why every element of your look has to be just meticulously so, from your hot roller curls to the angle your off-the-shoulder dress sits at.

“Are you going somewhere?” your mom mumbles from the doorway.

It almost make you draw a jagged edge in your lip liner– you’d forgot you left the door ajar and she moves like a ninja nowadays. Silent and deadly, or not at all. At the very least she’s not slurring her words; she’d heavily upped the intake of Beaujolais since she had to appear on the witness stand. You wonder what she’ll do when the contents of her old wine cellar that’s now living in the trailer’s living room runs out.

You wonder what number glass is the one she’s currently clutching.

“It’s Friday night,” you say, like that’s a sufficient response.

“Whatever happened to keeping a low profile, hon?” she says, perching on your dinky twin bed. She pokes around the measly few pieces of jewelry you’ve scattered there, the only ones you have left. The rest went to the pawn shop, then that went to the legal fund.

Fat lot of good that did us, you think.

“I get that you’re probably… upset by all this change, but,” she continues, sighing deep, “Going out and making a fool of us isn’t going to help anything.”

You cap your lip liner and wonder just who the fuck your mother thinks she’s talking to.

“And drinking yourself into a stupor in front of cable TV is?” you bite, “--scratch that. We can’t afford cable anymore, can we, Mommy?”

Your mother’s purple-tinged lips peel over her teeth in a sickened smile. “Don’t be a bitch, Lacy. No one likes a bitch.”

“I’m not,” you assure, unrolling the first of your hot rollers, “I’m being pragmatic. Game face, right? That’s what Daddy said. We’re not going to let this town of gossip mongering wannabes tell us who we are,” you say, rendering a pitch-perfect impression of your dad that makes your mom shudder. “I’m going out. I’m going to a party. I’m going to act like nothing has changed because it hasn’t–”

It’s eerie how easily you can lie to yourself.

“--you’re the one who’s not being a team player.” You don’t exactly say that your mother is the one that’s bringing extracurricular shame to the family name, but that’s what the reality is. If there’s not whispers flying about your incarcerated father, there’s mumblings about your mother showing up blotto in Melvald’s with more than one run in her stockings.

Getting up from your makeshift dressing table to pick your jewelry from the bed, you turn– and run chest-first into your mother’s wine glass. She lets the wine spill down the front of your dress–your white dress–with just enough manufactured shock to let you know it wasn’t an accident. You gasp– is she serious?! The stain spreads just like her smile does; slow and languid and completely immovable.

“Oh, baby, look at that mess,” she pouts mirthlessly, “Do you know how difficult it is to get red wine stains out?”

You just about keep your composure as she leaves your bedroom, slamming the door behind her. It might appear that your mother has nothing left in this world, but she still has the ability to make you feel two feet tall.

Blinking away the hornet’s sting of tears in your freshly mascara’d eyes, you glance to the clock radio– no! You had planned on a bus route that included a fifteen minute walk from the park to get you to Steve’s on time (and to avoid another car ride full of ribbing with Carol, Tommy et al) and there’s no way you’re going to make it now. Plus, you now need a full outfit revamp and you still weren’t organized enough for that.

Panic runs a trail of hot spikes up the back of your neck as you rifle through the nearest suitcase for anything remotely appropriate and you come up with– something.

Something slightly risque, that you weren’t counting on debuting at a party where you needed to convince people that I’m normal and nothing’s different and everything is fine.

Your new outfit requires you to be practically hermetically sealed into it, it’s so tight, but it matches your shoes at least– you’re a stickler for details. You’re also a stickler for multitasking, so you drum up a last ditch attempt at hitching a ride to Harrington’s house and barrel out the trailer door without so much as a Don’t wait up, Mom!

A sharp left is your first move, and you nearly swear you see Munson drop a note in his hard rock symphony as you dash past his window. Good. Hope you can’t nail that intro for the rest of the night, just like you can’t nail anything else.

You’re sure, no, you’re positive that you’ve seen that car around here somewhere… and just like a very dangerous North Star, the Chevy Camaro sits askew in front of a nearby trailer home. The front door pops open, there’s some incoherent yelling, and a shadowy figure identifiable only by a trail of cigarette smoke and an ever-present cloud of too-strong drugstore cologne swaggers towards the vehicle.

Someone up there’s looking out for me.

“Billy!” you call, teetering his way on your heels, “Hey.”

Or wants me dead.

Billy Hargrove pauses in his tracks, tossing the dying ember of his cigarette into some nearby, extremely dead and extremely flammable, shrubbery. He drinks you in, top of the lid to the bottom of the label, and you want to fidget with your outfit. A black waistcoat with nothing but a bra underneath hitches your breasts to your clavicle. The matching skirt feels suddenly illicitly short. He’s regarding you with a newfound if sleazy appreciation– then again, you daresay Billy Hargrove eyes up froyo with the same lascivious look. Guy has a chronic case of eyeball nymphomania.

“Lacy, right?” he drawls, like you haven’t been in the same social sphere at least a dozen different times. You nod, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear in an effort to out-cute yourself. This is very not you behavior, but– needs must. “Fresh meat.”

Again, like you haven’t met a billion times before, but trailer park politics change everything.

“Yeah,” you say, skipping over that particular prelude to a come-on, “Um, no way you’re going to Harrington’s party, are you?”

Billy heel-toes his way toward you, slow like molasses (or slurry, or tar), giving you his best half-lidded come-hither shit. Look, you get what Tina and Carol and the rest of the girls see in him– it’s the whole greased up dirtbag, fuelled by chauvinism, sponsored by Pall Mall thing that is designed to piss off their parents and give them bacterial vaginosis. It’s their first taste of adulthood. You, on the other hand, have tastes in the opposite sex that are as-yet unmet by this half-assed corn maze of a town.

“I was thinkin’ about it,” he smirks, barely a breath away from you. And you play right up into it, even if you want to recoil from his ratty moustache.

“Well, think I could ride shotgun?” you ask, and tack on, “With you?”

“What’s in it for me?”

Oh, Jesus Christ, does it ever end. You have to swallow in order not to roll your eyes and ask him if he ever thinks about changing that broken flirting record.

“The most impeccable company in Hawkins, of course,” you simper, amping up the princess angle. Though you were pretty sure that dynamic played better when you weren’t living on the edge of civilization.

Billy folds easily, but doesn’t go so far as to open the passenger door for you. He jams the radio on as soon as the key’s in ignition, speed metal rattling through the car’s interior. Another cigarette lit and he’s revving up and out, while you’re still struggling to find the non-existent seatbelt. You give up and reach for a smoke from the open soft pack on the dash– it’s not a regular habit outside of parties and stealing your mom’s every once in a while, but again, needs must.

Billy flicks a Zippo dangerously close to your face. “What’s your deal.”

Despite the monotone delivery, you’re sure it’s the closest thing to an honest-to-god question Billy’s ever asked you– or any girl, for that matter.

“That’s a vague line of questioning, Billy,” you say, cracking a window so the smoke can escape.

“You’re like, bad now or something?” he scoffs, “Shunned from the suburbs so you’re acting all edgy?”

By hitching a ride with you, you mean. God, how pathetic to uphold yourself as the standard of bad behavior– as far as bad goes, I could do a lot better.

“Thaaat’s it,” you nod animatedly, half-yelling over the din of 'The Four Horsemen', “I figured with my father in the big house, I might as well commit to the bit. I might even get a tattoo. How’s that make you feel?”

Billy barely emotes an answer, his himbot expression set on seduce mode. He’s just smirking, lashes low. “If you wanna let loose, I know someplace we could do that.”

His free hand, the one that isn’t oh-so-casually resting on the wheel, reaches over to brush a lock of hair from your cheek. The knuckle trails down to your jawline, skips to your shoulder, your forearm, until his palm comes to cup your knee. Your skin feels like it hardens under his touch.

You’ve seen this movie before. Rebel Without a Condom: Skull Rock Edition.

Your hand closes over Billy’s, holding it firmly in place. He has a hair-trigger temper. You know that. You're attempting to handle it delicately.

“So do I. Harrington’s party.”

His tongue runs along the edge of his bottom lip, and you wonder what’s fundamentally missing in you that this shit doesn’t have you trembling. He grips tighter, fingers edging up your thigh under your vice. Your stomach seizes. “I mean really loosen up, Lacy. You wanna be bad, let’s go be bad.”

And suddenly, as his foot edges the gas to push you down the dirt road faster, you are trembling. But for all the wrong reasons.

Then– an ungodly rumble from behind, headlights blaring through the rear window as a vehicle zooms almost bumper-to-bumper with Billy’s. The horn honks and each car’s sound system wages a war to be heard– Metallica versus Black Sabbath.

Your neck snaps around. You don’t even need to see past the blinding light into the driver’s seat to know who the hell that is.

The van hits a dangerous swerve in order to come neck and neck with Billy’s car, spooking him enough that he snaps his hand off of your leg. The van boisterously overtakes you and Billy slams on the horn, revving the engine from his position behind. The sign of relief you breathe is barely contained, but can’t be heard over metal-on-metal drums.

“What the fuck is this freak’s problem?!”

“At least he’s bringing party favors.”

–

While Billy Hargrove’s admittedly sick Camaro sure can burn rubber, she’s no match for Eddie’s old lady in the arena of sheer bull-in-a-china-shop obnoxiousness. She hauls a lotta ass and takes up a lotta road, which is perfect for raising the blood pressure of an asshole like this.

And before you think it, before you even imagine it– he’s not fucking up Billy’s cruising hours because of you.

Not entirely, anyway.

Truth is, his uncle’s hours have been cut at the plant, as have Eddie’s shifts at the Hideout so he’s seizing opportunity wherever he can. Keep the lights on, right? And if that means palming off dimebags and powder to some drunk kids who are overzealous with their unpetty cash, then fine. He’d got the word from a couple of meatheads that his services might be useful, so it’s not as if he’s planning on gatecrashing Harrington’s. Gatecrashing a Quaker meeting would be more entertaining, if you ask Eddie.

But, gun to his head? Alarm bells started ringing when he saw you bowl out of your trailer in that ho–... that outfit and head towards Hargrove’s. Well, Mayfield’s, technically– the only time Hargrove shows up there is to cool off when his dad kicks him out. Hargrove’s dad and the redhead kid’s mom have split, and she is not taking it well, so add in the macho madness of Billy and you’ve got a maelstrom of disaster.

Sometimes he sees Little Red sneak out in the middle of the night and he’s gotten in the habit of keeping an eye on her.

From a safe distance, of course. That kid’s like a rabid dog, jumpy and paranoid. He’s positive she bites.

Anyway, that’s how come he came to spot you. Activity in the Hargrove enclosure. And again, if he’s to believe any kind of insidious gossip, girls that slide into the passenger seat of Hargrove’s ride are not necessarily safe.

So, he figures, it’s time to peel out and get to work.

Eddie manages to keep Billy entertained on his tail right until the turn to Harrington’s, so you don’t swerve off onto an unlit dirt road with him. What can he say, he loves the chase!

Billy’s car almost blocks him in when he pulls up, you clambering out of the passenger side unassisted. Douchebag. The minute Eddie’s sneakers hit the pavement, Billy is just about nose to nose with him, frothing at the mouth. Rabid dog must run in the family.

“Fuck was that about, huh?”

“Jeez, Hargrove, a little early to be scamming on your date already,” Eddie teases, drawing up to his full height– he’s got a couple of inches on Hargrove, which he knows is a sore spot. “But I’m flattered.”

On instinct, not insistence, Eddie’s eyes snap to you– but you don’t give him so much as a glance, just huff, “Thanks for the ride, Hargrove,” and head into the party. His eyes follow you, watching you stalk inside with your shoulders all hunched and your ankles about ready to give out in those dumb shoes.

Billy shoves him, hard, as if to draw his attention back. “Fucking wanna go, huh?”

But Eddie, at this point, is beyond over it. He’s done all the dick measuring he wants to do tonight. He digs a joint out of his pocket and slaps it into Billy’s hand.

“Christ, Scrappy Doo, hit the brakes already. Have one on me.”

–

The one time in your life you’ll be thankful for the bottomless pit of the male ego is tonight. Billy completely rerouted his fucking pea brain to dog Munson all the way to Steve’s house, and all you had to endure was motion sickness.

Could have been a lot worse.

You’re still regaining your land legs by the time you cross the Harringtons’ porch and are instantly cornered by Tina and Nicole.

“Lacy,” they say, in unison and almost gravely. Very the twins from The Shining. “We didn’t think you’d make it.”

“Wait, did you come here with–”

“--Billy Hargrove,” you supply before anyone can make any stupid assumptions. “Almost died in a game of chicken in the process, but that’s that Forest Hills life for ya.”

Tina looks past you, distracted and distant. “I always forget he lives there,” Nicole shrugs. You don’t bother to correct her, because you don’t think he does. Whatever.

“Wish I could forget I live there!” you chirp, “In fact, that’s exactly what I’d like to do– forget. What are we drinking, ladies?”

You push past the hovering bodies and make your way to the kitchen, the girls bringing up the rear but real slowly. Something’s wrong– something’s off with them. But then again, maybe something’s just off with you. You choose to forget about it, forcing your party mode switch to on.

“Jesus, what is Robin Dykely doing here?” Nicole scoffs over your shoulder as you search the kitchen island for anything you can free pour, and fast. You purse your lips– Nicole’s obviously started early, because when she’s tipsy, she’s got no volume control nor spatial awareness. The Robin Buckley in question is lingering by a punch bowl and definitely in ear shot.

“Looks like she’s drinking punch at a party, Nic,” you say flatly, pulling a bottle of vodka from the gaggle of glassware. That’ll do fine.

“Probably hoping Tam Thompson will finally join the softball team.”

“Doesn’t Steve work with her?”

“Yeah, they’re like, buddy-buddy right?” you non-committally muse, grabbing a shot glass; in fact, you had seen the mousy girl mousing around Family Video with Steve. He’d even given her a ride to school a couple of times, whatever the hell that dynamic was. You didn’t know much about Robin, other than she was in band so you matriculated in the same gym space what with due to your spot on the cheerleading squad. Well, that, and the obvious rumors.

But largely and absolutely, you didn’t care. She’s a relative nobody.

You knock back a searing shot of vodka.

“That’s proof Harrington’s exhibiting early signs of dementia, I’m sure,” Tina grimaces. “Like, doesn’t he know she’s a carpet muncher?”

“Like Harrington can’t have a girl within three feet of him without wanting to bang her?” you say, matching Tina’s grimace with a strained voice after the shot. “Yet here you are, Tina.”

It’s a little meaner than Tina is used to from you– and it shows. She blinks, once, twice, three times, visibly hurt because she knows that you know that she’s had a thing for Steve Harrington since the dawn of forever.

Well, fucking get in line.

Then she scoffs, recovering herself. “Have another drink, Lace. ‘bout time you loosened up.”

Tina slinks by you toward the patio and you almost call after her, but don’t. Nicole, starting after her with a roll of her eyes, tells you, “We’ll be by the pool. See you out there, maybe?”

Your mouth curls into a sarcastic smile and you wave the bottle of vodka. “Soon as I catch up, girl!”

The vodka lands with a clunk on the counter after you line up another shooter. You look up, and catch Robin Buckley staring at you, right before she has the chance to avert her eyes. She’s gripping onto that solo cup for dear life. You can see the cracking dents in the plastic.

“You want a shot?” you yell over the music and the people and the claustrophobia of it all.

“Uh,” she says– too damn slow. You grab another glass and fill it, passing it her way.

“I’ve, um, I’ve never really done this before. What’s, like, the custom, should we cheers?” Robin half-yells over the kitchen island.

You shrug. Fuck it. “Sure– here’s to being in places we think we belong with people we secretly hate!”

“Oh, I for sure don’t belong here!”

Robin sinks the vodka and chokes on it, spluttering up the shot. You gulp yours like a fish gulping water and dash around the island to slap her on the back. She recovers pretty quickly, wiping the dribbled booze off her face with the back of her hand. She wheezes gratefully when you pass her a sticky dishcloth. “Gross.”

“I know, right? Party.”

“I get it, though, by the way,” Robin says, husk in her voice more pronounced after she’s coughed a lung up. She dabs awkwardly at her argyle printed shirt, doing nothing. “The secretly hating people thing.”

Fuck, had you really said that? That’s way too personal. That’s way too revealing, especially to someone like her. Reverse, reverse, abort abort abort! “Well, it’s not that, y’know how it gets with your friends sometimes–”

“Because I know Steve. Like, I really know Steve– but not, not in like a sexual way because that’s not– more in like a paternal, fraternal, we were worms together in another lifetime sort of way– I just, I know Steve,” Robin steamrolls you, nodding. From the glassy look in her eye, that punch is finally hitting her. And she really does mean what she says, from the timbre of her voice. She gives a real fuck about Harrington, which is more than you can say for ninety percent of the people in this house. “He, y’know, he’s not exactly made for this crowd either.”

You unscrew the bottle of vodka and take a cursory swig, then another, which makes Robin’s eyes widen and makes you feel a little bit like a pirate. “Then why are we all here, band girl? At his house? Why am I drinking his father’s Stoli?”

She casts her eyes down and shrugs, looking back up with a sour smile. “Party?”

Your shoulders drop and your head lolls back. Maybe you shouldn’t have come here after all. “Ffffffuck.”

“I totally hate drinking. I hate that wobbly out-of-control thing,” Robin says, scooping more punch into her half-crushed cup. It occurs to you that she might not realize the punch is alcoholic.

“You said it, sister.”

“I like your outfit, by the way. It’s like if a librarian was… a slut.”

God, if this is the way she flirts, I hope Sarah Lawrence is kind to her.

“You said it, sister,” you repeat, hitting the bottle again.

When you perform a quick scan of the room, you spot Billy advancing through the crowd, lighting a cigarette with another cigarette like he’s about to just smoke both cigarettes because that would be double badass.

And then, veering in from the right just like he did on the way here, is Eddie Munson. He looks as if he’s looking… for you.

Well, not the fuck anymore!

“Pleasure doing business with you, band girl,” you mutter, grabbing the solo cup from her hand and chugging the rest of the contents, “Don’t drink any more of that shit, it’s three quarters peach schnapps.”

You maneuver yourself (just barely) to the patio, where the gang, your gang, are all holding court on the pool loungers. There’s Carol, Tommy Hagan, Tina, Nicole, Cass, even Tammy Thompson if Robin’s still looking, but no Harrington in sight. Maybe it’s because of what Robin just told you, but you feel like this would feel less bad if he was here.

A hush falls over the group as you approach– you know, the kind where you know people have just been talking about you? That lead feeling in your gut makes you take another sip of vodka.

“Well, hello there,” you say, and it comes out as one slurred-up noise. Wellyellothur. Not ideal.

Tina gestures to the bottle. “Washing something down, Lacy?”

“A shot of Hargrove spunk?” Carol drawls.

“With a Buckley bush chaser,” Hagan sniggers. Fucking Statler and Waldorf over here.

“You guys, c’mon,” Nicole starts– and it sounds like a defense, but she’s the meanest motherfucker of them all when you give her some leash. “Lacy’s way too frigid for that.”

“Guess that tracks,” Hagan shrugs, leaning forward to flick his cigarette into the pool. He looks at you in a way that drills a hole, only the way ugly, empty-eyed bastards know how to do. “I mean, if it’s true that your dad was pimping you out to Al Munson, it makes sense he’s in the slammer. No one got their fuckin’ money’s worth in that deal.”

“Shit, that is so true, Tommy,” you start, before you even know where it’s going. All you know? It’s going to be bad. Real bad. So bad that you set the bottle on the ground next to you and clasp your hands behind your back. Debate team stance is what you used to call this. “About me being frigid, I mean. Because I sure remember turning you down a lot– like, a lot.”

Hagan scoffs and lights another cigarette. Something electric in you makes you lean over and grab it, “Lemme have this one. –but like, you don’t remember that? Because I remember you begging–like hands and knees begging–me to fuck you the night of junior prom.”

“Bullshit,” he scoffs again, like ‘scoff’ and ‘chauvinist insult’ are the only retorts he’s wired for.

“And on the last lake trip,” you go on, taking a drag of the cigarette. “Oh! And on the night of Carol’s eighteenth birthday! Which was like, what? Two months ago? And every time, I said no. Do you remember why I said no, Tommy?”

This Greek chorus of Brat Pack wannabes, they just sit there and stare at you. And you don’t even notice the hush that’s crawled over the crowd assembled on the patio. The party rages on indoors, but those who are out here are rapt.

Tina emits a nervous snort, which makes you bend at the waist and cup your ear, like you’re in the goddamn elementary school production of Horton Hears a What the Fuck Have You Got to Say.

“Bet you could tell me why, Tins,” you grin, big and houndlike. “I drove you to the clinic, remember? I fronted you the money for the lice cream– which you never paid me back for, by the way! Not even when I got all poo–oor!”

Tina reacts in a scramble, gasping unto herself and darting her eyes away from everyone. She doesn’t know where to look– no one knows where to look! No one but Carol, dear awful honeybun Carol, who has gone so pale it looks like her blush was painted on by Bozo the Clown. She stares you right down and you stare back. One of you is the barrel of the gun, and one of you is the poor loser looking right down it.

“You’re a fucking dirty liar, Lacy!” The sound of her voice feels like it’s ricocheting off every stony surface on Steve Harrington’s patio, that’s how deadly silent it’s gotten.

In a flourish, you throw the cigarette on the ground and stamp on it, hard and heavy!

“Only one way to know for sure, Caroline!” you holler, flinging your arms out, “Feelin’ itchy lately?!”

All you know is you’re cackling louder than the thundering crowd rush that erupts when Carol fucking lunges for you.

author's notes: CLIFFHANGER ALERT! everyone fucking dies. jk but thank you so much for reading this chapter that i had so much fucking fun writing. and thank you for showing love for chapter one! i'm posting this one a little sooner than i planned because i want to get this show on the road for y'all. so, a few bits: - the song eddie is playing is the wizard by black sabbath which goes so incredibly hard. he also definitely learned how to shred on harmonica from wayne which is a piece of fanon i think i picked up from chrissy and eddie’s infinite mixtape, the preeminent hellcheer fic by @little-scribblers-heart (i don’t even go in for hellcheer like that but Now That’s What I Call Characterization) - never heard of Indianapolis Christmapolis before? check out the history here! - there is nothing i love more on this planet than making fun of a swaggerlicious shitbag character like billy hargrove. anyway he was blasting the four horsemen by metallica in the car which he canonically listens to in the show! you know, the scene where he puts cologne on his balls. i like to think billy only knows one song and this is it - rebel without a condom: skull rock edition is a reference to rebel without a cause and goes out to all the failed threesomes that have happened at skull rock - scrappy doo found dead in miami after one hit of eddie munson's ditch weed - i also have to say, i feel like more people knew robin was a lesbian than robin realizes, which is truly The Gay Experience. absolutely no one will be surprised that she's fucking crushing puss at a liberal arts college once stranger things 5 comes out in 2038 - anyway, crabs are a real threat, be safe and get tested! thanks so much for reading, pls reblog, like and comment to show support and i will throw things around my enclosure with the wild abandon of a dopamine rush. ur everything to me

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #hellfire & ice #in progress #published by powder #e. munson by powder

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hana-no-seiiki · 1 year

Text

MATCHBREAKER

inspired by TAWOG’s “The Matchmaker”episode. aka damian asserting his dominance the prequel. everyone is aged up and legal.

pairing: yan! batfam/teen titans x kitsune! reader

status: unedited

[ prequel to this fic ]

Damian had finally come to terms that he may have a crush on you. As evidenced by his large collection of photos, clothing and drawings. But, along with this came a slew of obstacles.

Now you see the biggest problem about his crush on you was that a lot of people also had an obsession with your magnificent self, mainly Garfield and Rachel. In addition to your newfound relationship with the former, Damian was in shambles.

And Rachel, not realizing Garfield was actually serious about his flirtations towards you, may or may not have created a love potion that he ended up stealing and dosing you with.

“So you’re saying that the reason why I’ve been suffering these past few days weren’t because they genuinely loved each-other, but because you. screwed. up?!”

Dick shook the magic-user back and forth. You had been outright rejecting his advances these past few days in favor of actually being loyal to your boyfriend and it hurt his poor ego; shattered his heart. Not only that but the two of you would engage in such aggressive PDA he wouldn’t be surprised if you two started boning during a fight.

“No, it’s because they’re just destined to be together— yes, Grayson! I screwed up!” Rachel shoved him off of her. Dusting her cape before readjusting it to cover her entire body again.

“And Garfield didn’t consume any of this Love Potion, you speak of?” Kori thought back to the times Garfield outright said how much he loved you. He was quite shameless but he never got serious or confident enough to properly pursue you when the entire team was after your affections.

“That’s. . . all on him. The Love Potion works with just one recipient.”

“That little—“

Damian interrupted Jamie from swearing, an even graver look on his face as he commander. “Titans. It’s time to play Matchbreaker.”

PLAN A: FE[A]R OF COMMITMENT

The plan of attack included several strategies. Each carefully thought out before hand. Well, for the most part.

“[Y/N] hates commitment. What if we scare them by making Garfield propose?” Jamie proposed, the beetle behind him pulses its lights in agreement.

“On it.” Tim got to working. In just an hour he had a site and link to lure you in. Running on pure determination to keep you away from Beast Boy, it wasn’t a challenge to make an elaborate trap by hacking into Garfield’s account and messaging you. That, and considering you’re a bit of a boomer. You didn’t really question much of what was happening.

“. . . You’re invited to a wedding with Garfield?” You read aloud as everyone watched with bated breaths.

But instead of reeling in disgust, it’s almost as if hearts started growing out of your eyes as you squealed, “Awe~! A-ccept!”

Everyone deflated in defeat. Some looked to Rachel in scorn. “I may or may not have increased the dosage to . . . almost unbreakable levels.”

“Why?!”

“As . . . practice. . .” Rachel looked away, using her cape to partially cover her face.

The rest of the titans collectively sigh.

“Nothing a little finesse can’t fix.” Dick cracked his knuckles.

PLAN C: [C]RIME OF PASSION

“[Y/N]. You look stunning today.” Nightwing approached you. A smirk on his face that would look menacing if it wasn’t from your friend.

“Thanks, Dick — I— “ You waved at him only for your lips to meet his seconds after. You struggled to push him away, but that only worsened the situation and prompted him to insert his tongue.

The worst part of the whole situation being that Garfield just walked in to witness that.

Rachel and Damian appeared behind him, courtesy of the former’s magic and with the latter holding a baton in his hands. “What’s this?”

“A crime of passion.”

The two were prepared to knock out Garfield if he did seriously attempt hurting you. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all, and since he wasn’t affected by magic everything should go according to pla-

“But they’re too good not to be shared!”

“Alright folks, get the big bird off of them!”

Dick was knocked out by Jason and Victor, effectively putting him out of commission for the next . . . several plans.

PLAN F: [F]URRY LOVE

“Okay who named this plan, exactly?”

Rachel questioned as she looked through the blueprints and diagrams on the board (Yes, they were being that thorough).

Victor coughed at her comment.

“Before we start this properly I can at least make one of his transformations last a while so they don’t . . . “ Do the hanky panky. Everyone thought in different levels of crassness in their head.

“Do it.” The entire team wordlessly agreed, if there was anything they’d do everything to stop it was you getting down and dirty with the green young adult.

After an intense mission and just as Rachel’s spell dictated, Garfield was stuck in his gorilla form. “I- I can’t turn back!”

But the heroes seemed to forget that you also had a furry form and did not mind Garfield’s in the slightest, even cheering him up by saying, “It’s fine, honey. It just means there’s more to love!“

“GET THEM AWAY FROM EACHOTHER, NOW!” Victor screeched in horror, circuits frying from the terrifying sight he’s witnessing.

After promptly blasting the two of you apart for a bit, the team members hurried into their positions for the second half of the plan.

“Quick, get the lice!” Kori hollered at Jamie who was fumbling around with the box of lice he bought online. She then lifted him overhead, allowing the blue suited man to cover his former friend (he didn’t consider him a friend anymore at this point) with the insects.

“Ack! Why am I feeling so itchy?”

“Let me help you with that—“

You two are swiftly sent to different parts of the state before things get too nasty.

PLAN L: JEA[L]OUS DAMIAN (actual name: [L]eft Nut)

It has been almost a week since they started unleashing their plans upon the couple but the Titans and co. didn’t gain much ground. Your infatuation almost worsened as the days went by, and keeping you away from Beast Boy was close to impossible when your specialty in the team was stealth and espionage.

“Demonspawn? Hang on — what are you-“ Jason, who had a perfect line up for Garfield’s scrotum raised his hands in annoyance, watching through his scope as his younger brother suddenly swooped in to grab you from your boyfriend and ruining his shot.

“Well . . . That works.”

Once Damian had you secured in his room, he slammed you unto his bed.

May it be from the shock of sudden movements or seeing your own crush hovering over you, the effects of the Love Potion broke and you leaned upwards to kiss your leader.

You two spent hours tied up together before you eventually pulled away. Meeting the youngest Robin’s still angered face you laughed awkwardly,

“Ahaha . . . I’m screwed aren’t I?”

“Oh Habibti, you can’t even imagine.”

Damian was unsure of his future with you. What he was sure of was that this little fox needed a leash, and what leader would he be if he didn’t assert his authority?

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hoshologies · 1 year

Text

2:47 am, vernon c.

genres &&. warnings — timestamp, fluff, established relationship &&. lapslock intended, vernon being a sweetheart.

word count — 1.1k

you’re woken up rather gently, as though the person brushing soft hands against you is intentionally trying to keep you in dreamland. of course, you don’t even need to open your eyes to know who it is because you have him mapped down to the callouses of his fingertips and the faded scent of the cologne he put on this morning before he left (not to mention he’s the only person who has the spare key to your apartment).

“vernon…?” you ask quietly, drawing in a breath to yawn. you stretch deeply and notice the weight and feel of the fabric of the duvet over your legs where it hadn’t been when you’d fallen asleep a while ago.

“hey, baby.” vernon’s voice is quiet and his breath is warm on your face, a physical manifestation of his words.

when you open your eyes, he’s knelt beside the bed, using one arm as a cushion for his chin while the other strokes gentle lines over your cheek, his palm warm and threatening to lull you back to sleep.

“what time is it?”

“almost three am. what time did you go to sleep?”

you shrug as best you can with one of your shoulders pressed into the mattress. “only about an hour or so ago i think. i was waiting for you to come home, but i guess i fell asleep.”

vernon’s sigh is quiet with something akin to remorse. his fingers press a little tighter into your cheek like he’s trying to physically convey whatever it is he’s feeling. “i meant to come home a lot earlier, but the guys wanted to stay out later than planned and someone had to help get them home. if hoshi hadn’t been requiring constant supervision, i would have let you know.”

you shake your head, doing your best to lean your cheek into his palm. vernon was always good about messaging you when plans changed or something happened, so while you’d been a little anxious when he didn’t text you that he was heading home, you figured it had been for a good reason; and, as expected, a drunk hoshi was always a good reason.

“it’s okay,” you whisper, letting your eyes fall shut, reveling in the rough warmth of vernon’s hand against you, thumb still painting those hypnotically comforting lines into you. “i guessed something came up, so i wasn’t too worried.”

you hear him let out an exhale that doubles as a laugh, that breathy chuckle of his. “were you planning on falling asleep? when i walked in, your phone was playing a random youtube video and you weren’t even under the covers.”

he laughs again when you shake your head and mumble “s’n accident. i really wanted to wait for you.” he mutters his own answer under his breath, something that sounds strangely like “so cute.”

silence settles over the two of you, broken only by the sound of your breath rustling the duvet cover and the soft brush of skin against skin. you’re not quite sure how much time passes, too focused on fighting off sleep to enjoy more time with your boyfriend because truthfully, you can never get enough time with him. alas, eventually his hand departs, leaving a chill in its wake, and when you whine a little, he leans forward to press his forehead to yours.

“i’ll be right back, ‘kay? i just need to get ready for bed. i’ll make it quick, promise.”

and his word is always his bond; if he promises something, he always follows through. again, you’re not sure how long vernon is away because you’re caught floating somewhere between total consciousness and temporary oblivion. but he does return at some point because the lights turn off and then, with all the gentleness possible in the world, he slides into bed next to you. he scoots in close, draping one arm around your waist and tucking his nose into the crook of your neck.

“you waiting for me to get back so you can finally go back to bed?” he asks, his voice already heavy and rough with sleep. his breath sinks through the thick cotton of his sweater you “borrowed” (see: stole) when you had gotten ready for bed earlier in the night and that alone lulls you closer to slumber’s welcoming embrace.

you hum quietly in assent, looping your arm over his and intertwining your fingers against your sternum. he presses in impossibly closer, not a single part of the back of you that goes untouched. it’s as if he can’t get close enough to you and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s simply feeling more affectionate than usual or there’s still a little bit of alcohol lingering in his system. but with the weight and warmth of him against you, you can’t even complain.

“well, ‘m here now, so go back to sleep, baby.”

his fingers flex around yours, squeezing tight into your palm before relaxing a little. a way to say “i love you” without vocalizing it. he’s out like a light almost immediately, his breathing slow and steady at the nape of your neck, but while you’re exhausted too, you stay awake long enough to notice that between the time vernon came home and the moment you woke up, he’d plugged your cellphone in to charge it, covered you with the duvet, taken off the hairband you’d had on your wrist, rearranged your pillows just the way you like.

it’s always the little things with him, things that only he remembers and responds to. out of every person you’ve been in a relationship with, it’s vernon who has shown you what love, real love, looks and feels like. just the thought of everything he did for you tonight in fifteen minutes of being home is enough to have your heart swelling with unadulterated adoration.

you tighten your fingers around his for just a moment, a reciprocal “i love you.” because how could you not love him when you were his first priority upon arriving home or when he holds you the way he’s holding you now, gentle and warm with his chest rising in shallow breaths against you.

you’ve discussed it before, the idea of being “it” for each other, but right now, as you’re finally allowing sleep to take over, you know with absolute certainty that he’s it. there is no other person on earth who could love you the way vernon does; this is what you want for the rest of your life, this is who you want to fall asleep and wake up with. it could never be anybody else.

#vernon x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #chwe vernon x reader #kpop x reader #svt.fic #vernon.fic #timestamp.fic #writing.fic

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teacookiesandpeace · 4 months

Text

( Sounds of pencils doodling, students talking )

Part 5

... Mr Garrison: Okay yall, any questions? ?: Craig is drawing Craig: What- Mr Garrison: Sigh Let me see Craig: That was literally a few minutes ago, I've already stopped Mr Garrison: I don't care, give me your notebook Craig. Craig: ( Damned snitch... ) Mr Garrison: What did you say?? Craig: Nothing ...

Mr Garrison: … Craig: ... Mr Garrison: ... Okay Craig I ain't going to deal with your today, go see Mr Mackey- DID YOU JUST FLIP ME OFF?? Craig: No ... Mr Garrison: GET OUT OF HERE. Craig: Ok ...

I need to stop doing these things, when father Maxi finds out he's going to throw me out the window. ?: ..H...Hey Craig: ...What? ?: Are you in trouble too? Craig: Yeah, I was distracted in class ?: With what? Craig: Personal Stuff ?: I s...se...see Craig: What about you? What did you do? ?: Hahah, s...so...some atrocities, w-with my... pals Craig: ... You don't seem like a bad guy ?: I'm not

?: But m-make no m...mis...mistake, I'm t-tough Craig: … Okay, okay, I believe in you Jimmy: I'm Ji...Jimmy, what about you? S-Sorry, I've seen you a few times, but I don't think w...we ever got to t-t..talk, right? Craig: Yeah, I'm Craig Jimmy: It's good to meet you C...Craig, wa...wanna do something cool? Craig: ...Huh Jimmy: D-Do you want to escape school wi...with ...me? I don't feel like going to detention today Craig: ... You're kinda nuts, Jimmy Craig: ... Jimmy: ... Craig: ... Jimmy: ... Craig: Okay, I'm in Jimmy: :D Jimmy: But first, c-can you do me a f...favor? Craig: Ok? Jimmy: C...Can you get those things on the flo...flo...floor for m-me? ...

...

I've never noticed how agonizing being hidden is, this wardrobe is pretty small… I wonder what Craig is doing now At least I'm safe, It's good not to be in danger, at least not as much as before, at least I'm... Free

... I wouldn't be sure about that

Tweek: ... What-

?: Greetings Tweak

Tweek: … HOW... THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE??- ?: Speak softly, in case you want to stay there like a frightened rodent hiding inside a hole Tweek: ..AGH!- G...Go away!, I already told you I don't want n-nothing to do with you guys anymore!... ?: I know, I remember you're a coward

Tweek: ...I'm not a coward, I'm just not going to let these guys go back to using me the same way they're using you and others ?: I'm not being used, I'm just following the rules, you should do the same, we were all doing so well until you escaped and threw it all down the drain Tweek: All I've done is get out of the place that hurts me, and another, you're no punisher! I don't care about dumb spells, I don't want to be a part of it anymore, I finally had the chance to have a better life, not normally, but at least happier ?: I feel sorry for you, you really think you've finally got control of something Tweek: ... What do you mean ?: Mccormick thought he could have a normal life too, he really thought, you know what happened to him, don't you? Tweek: ... ?: Do you recognize the jacket you're wearing right now? ...

?: ...

?: Now you don't want it anymore Tweek: Why are you doing this to me? Tweek: I'm not doing this to hurt anyone, I just want to have a happy life, we were friends before, Red Red: Don't try to be my friend now, and your life is over, it's not my problem if you're a traitor. Red: You still have a chance to patch things up, if we're really friends, think about it

Jimmy: This was easier than I ...t..t..thought! Craig: Hey man, like, thanks, you saved my life Jimmy: You are welcome! That was f-fun, I know a lot of shortcuts, and thank you for... h-helping me jump o...over the wall Craig: No problem Jimmy: So, where are you g...going now? Craig: Home Jimmy: That's cool! I'm going to tell my gang not to mess with you, we're friends now Craig Craig: Okay, uh… Wait, what the hell do you mean gang, where you're going?

Jimmy: Going to m..mess ar...around! ;D Craig: I'm getting scared of you Jimmy, I'm gonna kick your crutch Jimmy: Please don't Craig: Ok Jimmy: B...B..Byeee! See you t...tomo...tomorrow! Craig: Bye

Craig: ... I'm home Craig: ... Craig: Tweek?

Craig: I left school early, you can get out of there if you want to ...

... Craig: ...You can talk to me if you need to, I'll be out here

Red: Mccormick, can you hear me? ... Red: That coward really got on my nerves, I don't want to waste time

Red: ... Red: There you are

Red: I don't need your filthy coat anymore, you can take it back if you want

Red: How do you feel now? Kenny: Mhhpr mhhrp Red: I didn't understand a word.

Red: ... Red: … You look like an Inuit *sigh* Red: Anyways, it's getting dark, let's go back to the barn, where the hell is Kevin?

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wyst3r1a · 1 year

Text

Pairing: Graves/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Suggestions of mental illness, fluff n comfort folks.

Summary: Stupid self indulgent Graves comforting you during a breakdown bc fuck I could go for that rn HAHA. Enjoy tho. He’s a tootie.

-.-.-.-

Normally, the sound of the front door opening and your boyfriend announcing his arrival home sets off a plethora of positive feelings inside you. Whether he be coming home from a trip out of town that kept him from you for only a few days, or coming home after months away deployed on a mission, the excitement of having him home safe was consistent. Especially if he was coming home earlier than expected.

But today, the sound of the door and his distinct voice heralding his early arrival made dread wash over you in such an enormous wave, you could’ve vomited on the spot.

The tears soaking your face and making your skin puffy and blotchy would not be concealed by the time he saw you, neither would the suffocating emotions that had overwhelmed you from the inside out. He was going to walk right in on your dirty little secret, something you had kept from him since you first met, and the panic of that knowledge made it hard to stand.

Still, you tried. Using the heels of your hands to wipe furiously at your face as you turn your back to the kitchen’s open entrance, if only to give yourself a few more seconds of time to compose before he saw you.

“Where you at, hon’?”

“Kitchen!”

It’s meek and your voice warbles and fuck, the anxiety is making the tears come harder. You can hear him traverse through the foyer, into the living room, discarding his coat and shoes and whatever else as he goes, until the sound of his steps are loud enough to deduce he’s in the same room.

“Hey, dollface. Miss me?”

The lump in your throat is impossible to talk around, and you cringe internally as the weak “mhm,” you have to settle for in response definitely sells you out.

“Hon’? You okay?”

There it is.

You can’t look at him as you bury your face in your hands, trying to muffle the vicious cries that are wrenched from you at his innocent question.

If Philip was taken aback by your outburst, he recovers quickly.

It seems like he’s in your personal space instantly, gently insisting you look at him with soft hands and a worried tone. The concern in his blue eyes is breathtaking, eyebrows upturned, forehead wrinkled. Calloused hands cup your cheeks, smooth away your tears.

“Oh, sweetheart, what’sa matter? Did somethin’ happen while I was gone?”

You shake your head in his hold, sniffing out a pathetic little, “n-no, I’m okay, I’m sorry,” that he tuts at, tilting his head and flashing a small smile that’s both parts amused and a bit scandalised.

“C’mon now, sugar, I might not be the best at picking up on someone’s feelin’s, but I’d like to think I have the brain to recognise when my girl is upset; especially when she’s cryin’, huh?”

You have to laugh at that. You look at your feet, embarrassment colouring your cheeks at you shift on the spot. He doesn’t push you. Just holds your face like he has all the time in the world, waits as you take a deep breath when you’re ready and look at him again.

“It’s um… Things are… Hard.”

“What things, baby? Can I help?”

You shake your head, worrying your lip between your teeth before mustering up a bleak, “I just… struggle? With my thoughts sometimes? A-And there’s not a lot I can do about it.”

Understanding crosses his face before his jaw sets, lips pursing together. He looks truly worried about you in that moment, and you want to bury yourself alive. This is exactly what you were hoping to avoid.

“I’m sorry, this is why I haven’t said anything about it.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, especially when you’re already dealing with so much-“

Philip sighs, muttering a quiet, “baby,” before he pulls you into an embrace. His arms are strong, warm and comforting around you as you allow yourself to bury away in his chest. His heartbeat is steady and soothing, his thumbs drawing circles on your back as his voice vibrates through his being and into your own.

“I don’t want you hidin’ shit like this from me, okay? I’m here for you, honey,” he says, “correct me if I’m wrong, but you worry ‘bout me when I’m away, right?”

You nod.

“‘Xactly. Two way street, doll. Let me worry about you too.”

He pulls you away then, smoothing your hair from your face and looking into your watery eyes. You feel warm in the way he looks at you. A little bit silly for ever thinking he’d take your struggles as diminishing to his own. Your voice is breathy and taut when you respond in compliance, and Philip smiles again, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good. Do you need to talk about anythin’?”

“Mn-nn. Just wanna enjoy you being here.”

He chuckles, nodding and stooping to catch your lips this time.

“I think I want a nice, hot bath. Wanna join?”

You giggle despite the hotness of your emotions still high in your cheeks, “sure.”

“”Sure?”” He parrots dramatically, swooping his arms under your legs, relishing in the little squeal and laugh you give as he hoists you up into his arms, “sure”, ain’t gonna cut it, angelface, I want a “yes Commander.”

You plant a kiss on his stubbly cheek, “Yes Commander Graves.”

“Mm. More like it.”

#call of duty mwii #cod #philip graves #alejandro vargas #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #könig mw2 #simon ghost riley #x reader #phillip graves #philip graves x reader

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nohoney · 9 months

Note

you're last c&c drabble was so cute!!!!

how about c&c reader using their safeword during sex bc it was getting too intense for her and dabi comforting her??? i just love seeing dabi be all sweet and gentle

（｡>‿‿<｡）

loving the requests for coffee & cigs lately (っ˘ω˘ς )

Touya makes you a mess. He makes you feel like the most wonderful, beautiful piece of mess ever. He knows when to add in the perfect mix of pain to pleasure. There’s a little bit of pride in him to know your physical limits and how you respond to things. What’s a little bit more of a mystery is your emotions sometimes.

It’s not that he doesn’t know your emotions, he does. It’s you that needs the space and time to explore them.

He’s always kept a watchful gaze on you and it’s why he handles you so well, because he can read you. Sometimes you do get mad at him for knowing you so well but overall, you’re grateful to him. It’s taken a lot of communication between the two of you to have the sense of stability in the relationship.

Touya always expects you to communicate to him, no matter the situation.

“C’mon, you got another for me!” Touya grunts as he thrusts harshly into you, “Cum on my fucking cock again!”

You’re shaking your head but your body is telling you different. It knows that you can cum again and Touya is drawing another orgasm out of you. You’ve already lost count with how many he’s gotten out of you. It’s insane how he can do this to you.

His cock fills you up, he fucks you to tears, and he’s going to make you cum again.

“I said cum again!” Touya grunts, this time stimulating your clit with his hand. He’s craving for it, he wants to see you unwind and unravel at the seams and fall apart.

“I can’t!” You whimper but your body is already building up for another one.

“If you love me then you will.”

Something in his words start to undo you but not in the pleasant way. Your body can definitely cum again but if you don’t, then that means that you don’t love him enough. At first you try to keep it down and remember that it’s just a line he’s saying. His words and your feelings start to conflict within you. Even though you know fully well that he does love you, your mind in the moment is telling you very differently. You bat away the bad thoughts and try to focus on cumming again for him.

However his words repeat over and over and it’s not your physical limit that’s been reached.

It’s the emotional one.

Touya stops when you cry out your safeword. He’s pulling out of you and immediately pulling you into a hug, letting you sob into his shoulder. His arms wind tightly around you and he tells you it’s okay. He waits patiently for you to calm down so that he can talk to you.

The tears stop and you sniffle, looking so wore down and needing to rest.

“Lie down, alright?”

He lays you back onto bed, putting you on your side and he lays facing you. You take his hands clasp them in yours, needing his touch still to ground you. There’s residual feelings leftover and you’re finding it difficult to separate them in the moment.

Touya asks if you’re ready to speak because he senses that there was something internal that made you use the safe word. You speak softly, stuttering a little and trying to find some sense of yourself. When he sees you fumbling, Touya reminds you to take it slow. He just wants to know what your limit was reached.

It takes a little time to draw it out of you but you finally tell him what happened that made you stop.

“Okay, I won’t say that again. I’m sorry.” Touya pulls you into another tight hug. He’s relieved that you were able to tell him how you felt. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” you sigh, now feeling your body relax and your mind at peace.

#dabi x reader #todoroki touya x reader #dabi smut

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themirokai · 1 year

Text

I saw this very cute raven video and it made me think Matthew the Emotional Support Raven thoughts. So please enjoy another 1200 words of fluffy Dream & Matthew ficlet. (My first one is over here.)

“Why is this dream so c-cold?” Matthew asked, hopping from foot to foot in the snow.

“It is meant for those who live in the coldest climes,” Lord Morpheus replied, looking around.

Matthew had to admit there was a lot to look at: a soaring snow-capped mountain range in the distance, a glittering frozen waterfall, the edge of a forest of beautiful pine trees. But he was starting to shiver. “D-don’t you th-think they m-might want to d-dream of somewhere warm?”

“That is not the purpose of this dream.” Lord Morpheus looked down at him. “Are you cold, Matthew?”

“J-just a b-bit.”

Lord Morpheus reached down his hand, palm up, in the gesture that invited Matthew to perch. With one flap of his wings Matthew gratefully flew onto Lord Morpheus’s hand and out of the snow. The Dream King lifted him up and placed him on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Boss.” The guy didn’t radiate warmth or anything, but it was much better than standing in the snow.

“You are welcome, Matthew.”

“So, uh, what are we doing here?”

“Wait,” Lord Morpheus said quietly, “and watch.”

Just then a dreamer stepped out of the woods and their jaw dropped at the vista in front of them. Matthew prided himself on the fact that he could tell dreamers from dreams in an instant now. When he first started this gig and was in a dream, it wasn’t always clear to him which of the cast of characters was the one having the dream. But now he’d been at it long enough that he could immediately sense who would be returning to the waking world.

The sun began to move. The sky remained bright blue all over, but the sun began drawing closer to the dreamer, staying the same size it had been, like you could cover it up with your thumb.

“There are places on this world, and others, where the sun is not seen for months at a time. I made this dream for the people living there,” Lord Morpheus said quietly.

The dreamer frowned at the approaching ball of light.

“Is this a dream or a nightmare?” Matthew asked in an undertone.

“A dream. Watch.”

Now hovering a foot away from the dreamer’s face, the sun seemed to give a soft, reassuring tone.

The dreamer frowned more deeply. The sun made another gentle sound, this one in the intonation of a question.

“What?” the dreamer said. “No, that’s weird! Go in the sky if you want to warm me.”

Lord Morpheus sighed and his shoulders drooped a little under Matthew’s feet. He gestured with two fingers and the dreamer became insubstantial and then disappeared.

“I - uh - take it that’s n-not what’s s-supposed to happen?” Matthew asked, ruffling his feathers against the cold.

“No. The sun is meant to enter the dreamer’s heart, to warm them and brighten their spirits through the days of darkness.”

“I c-could use an int-ternal sun right ab-about now,” Matthew said, shivering again.

Lord Morpheus turned to him. “You are still cold, Matthew.”

“S-sorry, B-boss. I d-don’t think-k ravens are m-made for this weather.”

“Hm.” Lord Morpheus held up his hand for Matthew to perch on and Matthew stepped on carefully.

With his other hand, Lord Morpheus made a pulling gesture and out of thin air produced a thick, red, woolen scarf. He quickly wound it around Matthew’s body. Matthew thought about mentioning that he wouldn’t be able to fly like this, but as soon as the scarf was in place, Lord Morpheus tucked him into the crook of his arm. Oh that was good. He already felt warmer.

“Better?” Lord Morpheus asked.

“Yeah, much.” Matthew quickly rubbed his beak against Lord Morpheus’s hand. “Thanks, Boss.”

“Good. Now, this failed dream.”

“Failed?” Matthew asked, looking around from his cozy perch. “It’s beautiful, Boss.”

“Yes, but its purpose is not beauty. At least not scenic beauty.” Lord Morpheus sighed. “None of the dreamers who have come here have accepted the gift of the sun. Be honest, Matthew, as a somewhat recent human, is it an unappealing or… a weird idea? Should I destroy this dream?”

“No!” Matthew squawked quickly. “Don’t destroy it! It’s a lovely idea.” He clicked his beak in thought. “I think people may be more skeptical… less trusting than they were 130 years ago.” Matthew stopped himself. Mentioning Lord Morpheus’s captivity was always touchy.

“Go on,” Lord Morpheus said quietly, “I believe you are correct.”

“Well, is there a way to show dreamers that this is really a good thing and not a trick or something that will hurt them?”

Matthew craned his neck to see Lord Morpheus’s face, and found him deep in thought. He took a deep breath and began to move the hand that was not holding Matthew.

Matthew narrowed his eyes as everything began to feel… nicer. The frozen waterfall seemed more glittery and there was a feeling pushing at his mind of safety and relaxation. Matthew frowned.

“Did you just… turn up the emotion on a landscape?”

“Dreamscape,” Lord Morpheus corrected, “and yes. You can feel it?”

“Yeah, it feels like it’s trying to invade my head.”

“That is because you are a creature of the Dreaming. It should feel natural to the dreamers.”

Matthew adjusted his position, which may have taken the form of snuggling into Lord Morpheus’s side a little closer. “So how long do we have to wait for another dreamer?”

“I can draw one in now,” Lord Morpheus said, gesturing again with his free hand.

Another dreamer stepped out of the forest and looked around in wonder, grinning broadly. This time when the sun began approaching them they gave a delighted gasp and when it stopped and gave its first hum, their eyes filled with happy tears. The dreamer reached out to the ball of the sun, then nodded enthusiastically as it asked its question.

Matthew watched as the dream sun traveled up the dreamer’s arm and then into their chest. The dreamer’s face was blissfully peaceful as they faded away back to the waking world.

Matthew couldn’t help a joyful caw. “You did it!”

Lord Morpheus’s smile was minuscule but Matthew could still tell that he was very pleased.

“I thank you for your assistance, Matthew,” he said, running his finger over Matthew’s beak.

“That’s what I’m here for!” Matthew replied cheerfully.

Lord Morpheus made a sweeping gesture and the space in front of them was suddenly the throne room. He stepped from snow onto stone and Matthew felt the temperature immediately rise.

He was quiet as Lord Morpheus began unwinding the scarf from around him. He wanted his wings free, of course he did, but… well it had been nice and cozy.

Matthew shook himself as the last length of scarf came away.

“Wait!” he cawed, seeing Lord Morpheus about to dismiss the dreamstuff that made up the scarf.

Lord Morpheus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Could I keep that?” Matthew pointed at the scarf with his beak.

Lord Morpheus regarded him with a curious expression and a subtle lift to one corner of his mouth. “If that is what you wish.”

“Yeah, uh, for the cave, you know. I think Eve might like it.”

Lord Morpheus smiled more broadly, then quickly schooled expression. “Certainly.” He folded the scarf over, making it much easier for Matthew to carry.

“Thanks, Boss.” Matthew took the scarf in his beak, bumped his head against Lord Morpheus’s hand, and took off.

Hey, did you like this? I had a lot of fun using a real raven for inspiration and I’d like to try something… if you send me a raven, I’ll write you a ficlet. Send me an ask or a DM with a picture or a video of a real raven and I’ll use it as inspiration for a little Matthew story. I’m excited to see what people come up with!

Update: the master post of my Matthew the Emotional Support Raven ficlets is here.

#mathew the emotional support raven #dream of the endless #lord morpheus #matthew the raven #the sandman #the sandman netflix #miro does sandman #mirokai writes #inspired by a video #send me a raven and I'll write you a ficlet #taking prompts #in a very limited fashion

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only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are · 11 months

Text

Day 13: Surgery - Medi Whumpy May

Medi Whump May Masterlist

Just a little.. bit... further...' Hero told themselves, clutching their side and drawing in another painful, wheezing breath.

The world was spinning in front of them and their vision was starting to become obscured with small dots.

They could barely see the doors of their base, and had to slam their palms against the doors to keep themselves upright.

"Hey!" They gasped. "Help!"

They blinked, and found themselves on the floor as the sounds of footsteps came rushing towards them.

"Hero, you're injured!"

"Hero, is that you?!"

"Quick, get me a gurney. They're hurt!"

The noise was overwhelming, but a familiar face swam in front of theirs.

"M-medic?"

"Yeah, it's me. We're going to take care of you, okay? Can you tell me what's wrong, where are you hurt?" Medic asked, instantly checking over Hero's body.

"My chest.. can't.. breathe.." Hero panted.

A gurney was pushed up against the wall, and Medic and the rest of the team began to lift Hero onto it. Hero cried out at the movement, tears springing to their eyes.

"It's okay, Hero. You've got a punctured lung, but I can fix it, alright?" Medic said above them as they wheeled the gurney inside the base, heading straight towards the med bay.

The team members helped get Hero to the bay and into the surgical suite, where Medic's assistants took over. They placed Hero on the operating table and began cutting the clothing away from the wound.

Hero whimpered as the open wound was revealed, their chest looking depressed on that side. "That's bad, right?" They whispered.

"I'm not going to lie to you, Hero. It's bad. Lie back for me, okay?" Medic said.

The team of assitants bustled around the operating table. One inserted an IV into Hero's arm, and other handed Medic a mask.

"I need you to breathe this in for me. I'm going to put you to sleep so I can operate. When you wake up, you'll feel a lot better." Medic said.

Hero shook their head and tried to move away, despite the pain burning through their chest. "Don't! Please, don't, I c-"

Medic clapped the mask over Hero's face and held it there, even as Hero thrashed in their grasp.

"Shh.. It's going to be alright, Hero. Just go to sleep." Medic whispered, in a desperate attempt to soothe their patient.

Hero's movements became sluggish, their attempts to free themselves abandoned as their limbs hung limply at their side, and their eyes drifted closed.

When Hero came back to consciousness, they were lying on their back, propped up on pillows in a bed in Med Bay.

They panicked momentarily, seeing the tube coming out of the wound in their side.

"Hey, hey." Medic said. "Leave the chest tube alone, I worked hard to get that in you." They scolded.

Hero sighed. They felt no pain as they used their lungs, which was likely due to the medication running through the IV port in their hand. "Medic.. what- what happened?"

"What happened is you got yourself impaled on something, and then showed up to Base half dead in the doorway." Medic retorted, arms crossed over their chest. "

"I'm sorry." Hero replied softly.

You get your ass back to sleep now. You took a fair beating, and I know the chest tube isn't pleasant to see." Medic's voice was more gentle now. "We'll talk more about this when you feel better."

With that, Hero fell back into a semi-drug induced, uneasy sleep.

@mediwhumpmay

#mediwhumpmay #medicalwhump #medical whump #whump community #whumblr

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strangerstilinski · 1 year

Text

SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter eight

fic summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

chapter word count; 12,376

chapter notes; when their admittedly underdeveloped plan to lure the alpha goes awry, amber is forced to spend a terrifying night trapped in the high school with her friends.

masterlist

c h a p t e r e i g h t

night school

It started out a generally uneventful evening. Amber ate dinner with her brother before he patted her lovingly on the head and left for the fire station for the night. After he'd gone into work, the sudden solitude of the quiet house eventually lulled her to sleep, her head tipped over against the back of the couch.

The alert tone of an incoming call roused her a little while later and she sleepily looked around the dark room in nap-induced confusion before remembering her cell phone in her pocket and pulling it out while it continued to ring loudly.

"Hello?" She answered, blinking her eyes in an attempt to clear the sleep from them.

"Amber, hey! Were you asleep already?" Scott's voice asked her in confusion.

"Scott, who's phone are you calling me from?" She asked, looking at the unfamiliar number on the screen.

"I'm calling from work. Just- Just meet me in the parking lot at school, okay?"

"Uh, okay-" She said slowly, "Is Stiles picking me up?"

"He's already on his way to get me from the clinic," Scott told her, "I debated calling you because I don't think he wants you there, what with.. You getting hurt and everything. But I think you should meet us there."

"I'll be there." She promised, already rising from the couch and heading toward the front door.

Scott ended the call quickly and she grabbed the large flannel that had been hanging untouched on a hook at the front door for the last couple weeks — one that she'd borrowed the night they'd snuck out to the Hale house to dig up Laura's body. She threw it over her tank top, grabbed the small set of keys her brother had given her only the night before, and drove to the school.

She succeeded in getting there with the car only jerking a couple of times when she let off the clutch too quickly or fumbled between gears. She parked in the side lot where the brawl with the Senior boys had taken place only a few hours before and exited the car.

Looking around the dark lot in confusion, she dropped her keys into the pocket of her over shirt. Her house was significantly farther from the school than Stiles' or even the clinic, but the blue Jeep was nowhere to be found. With a sigh, she set off to figure out which lot Stiles and Scott had parked in.

As she approached the rear parking lot, where the mountain lion chaos had taken place the night before, she spotted the Jeep as well as the dark sports car sitting directly behind it, both parked along the curb.

Stiles was holding a large pair of bolt cutters in his hands and Amber's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she wondered what exactly the plan was for the night.

"Guys!" She called out, jogging up to the group and coming to stand beside Scott and Stiles, looking over the hood of the other parked car at Derek.

"What is she doing here?" Both Derek and Stiles asked in sync, voices taking on very different emotions.

"I called her." Scott told them.

"Yeah, he called me," She repeated, "-Some people don't think I should be left out of important things. Things like werewolf business, or breaking and entering, for example. Which, I assume.. At least one of those things is about to happen?"

Stiles nodded reluctantly and readjusted the bolt cutters in his hands, the movement drawing her attention to the open window of the Camaro behind him.

"I'm sorry, wh-" She started, leaning closer to peer at the beaten unconscious man who was tied up in the backseat of the car, "Is that Dr. Deaton?"

"Derek thinks he's the Alpha." Scott told her, directing a small glare toward Derek.

"Oh." She said, taking a large step back from the vehicle to put distance between herself and Scott's boss. She wasn't taking any risks if Derek suspected him.

"Anyway-" Stiles said, turning to head toward the school, bolt cutters ready. Amber and Scott both turned to follow behind him immediately.

"W- Hey-" Derek called out to them, "What're you doing?"

"You said I was linked with the Alpha," Scott told him before turning back to the school and placing a hand on Amber's shoulder to guide her away with him, "I'm gonna see if you're right."

Stiles easily snapped the chains that locked the large metal doors to the school and he abandoned the heavy bolt cutters on the stairs outside. The three made their way inside and the flashlight in Stiles' hands lit up a path through the dark hallways as they walked to the other side of the building and made their way into the front office.

"Okay, one question," Stiles said to Scott as he rounded the secretary's desk, "What are you gonna do if the Alpha doesn't show up?"

"I don't know." Scott told them.

"And if he does show up?" Stiles questioned.

"I don't know." Scott said again.

"Good plan." Stiles told him sarcastically with a shake of his head.

Amber leaned to sit on the side of the desk against her unbruised hip and turned to Scott with a question of her own, "Okay, and if your boss is the Alpha like Derek thinks he is, how long exactly do you think it'll take him to rip through the rope and tape that are currently keeping him all tied up? Because I don't know if you recall, but you tore through like seven layers of duct tape this afternoon in about two seconds."

Neither boy responded to her question. Scott just looked nervous and Stiles was busy fiddling with the PA system, flicking knobs and pressing buttons in a methodical way that made Amber wonder how he even knew how to turn the ancient thing on.

"All right. You guys said that a wolf howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack, right?" Scott asked nervously as he watched Stiles work.

"Yeah, I- Essentially, yeah." Amber told him with a shrug.

"Right, but if you bring him here, does that make you a part of his pack?" Stiles questioned as he seemed to finally get the system set up correctly, lifting the large microphone and placing it on the counter in front of Scott.

"I hope not." Scott told them with a gulp, leaning in toward the microphone to simply stare at it nervously for a moment.

Stiles flicked the button to turn on the mic and nodded toward Scott encouragingly, "All you." Stiles said quietly.

Scott looked between his friends and Amber gave him a reassuring nod, waving in gesture for him to get on with it. Scott took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and opened his mouth before letting out a high-pitched screech that in no way resembled an animal's howl. He drew it out and the sound whined loudly over the speakers throughout the school. Amber and Stiles both winced.

When he finished, Scott opened his eyes slowly and looked at his friends again, "Was that okay?" He asked them, "I mean, that was a howl right?"

"No." Amber told him quickly.

"I-Yeah, technically." Stiles grimaced.

"No." Amber repeated seriously with a shake of her head.

"Well, what did it sound like to you guys?" Scott asked them frantically.

"Like.. A cat being choked to death, Scott." Stiles admitted loudly in frustration.

"Scott, I don't know what that was but I promise you, it wasn't a howl." Amber told him.

"What do I do? How am I supposed to do this?" Scott shouted anxiously, looking between his friends.

Amber watched as Stiles moved around the desk and came to stand behind their friend, he rubbed at Scott's neck as if he were imitating a boxing coach while he began to give him a pep talk, "Hey, listen to me. You're calling the Alpha, right?" Stiles asked as he massaged at Scott's shoulders deeply, "Be a man."

"Be a werewolf." Amber supplied helpfully, trying to match Stiles' inspiring speech. He nodded at her and continued to work at Scott.

"Don't be a teen wolf. Be a werewolf." Stiles told him slowly. He smacked Scott on the arm and took a step back, "Do it."

Scott took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, closing his eyes in careful concentration for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, Amber gasped in a quiet breath at the sight of his golden wolfy eyes glowing bright in the dark room. When he opened his mouth this time, the noise that came out was loud and rumbling. It also didn't necessarily resemble a howl, but was instead a deep full-bodied growl. The amplified sound over the PA system shook the building with the reverberation of it.

Amber was wide-eyed when Scott finished, "Oh my god." She whispered.

"That was better?" Scott asked with a grin.

"That was freaking insane!" Stiles yelled from behind him.

The three bounded back outside of the school with new-found enthusiasm and headed back in the direction of the two parked cars where they'd left Derek and Deaton.

"I'm gonna kill all three of you." Derek told them loudly once they were in sight, "What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?"

They came to stand beside the older wolf and Amber frowned at the worry laced in Derek's voice.

Scott shrugged beside her, "Sorry, I didn't know it would be that loud." He said with a pleased smile still on his face.

"It was loud," Stiles agreed with a wide grin, "And it was awesome!"

"Shut up." Derek said coldly.

"Oh, don't be such a sourwolf." Stiles told him, leaning to press his shoulder into Amber's happily.

There was a brief moment of silence before Scott peeked into the backseat of the Camaro, "What did you do with him?" He asked Derek worriedly.

Amber stepped forward to peek into the empty backseat herself with a cold feeling of dread in her stomach. She looked up at Derek with wide eyes.

"What?" Derek asked quickly in confusion, turning around to look into the car behind him before turning to face them again, "I didn't do anything-"

Amber watched in horror as a large, familiar figure appeared out from the darkness behind Derek. The Alpha thrust its clawed hand out toward Derek's back and the sharp points pierced all the way through to the front of his chest, blood instantly pooling and dripping from Derek's mouth as he sagged, knees weak.

"Derek!" Amber screamed, reaching out for him and just managing to brush her fingers over the soft fabric of his shirt before the Alpha began to lift him from the ground as she was pulled in the other direction by two sets of hands on her arms and shoulders. "No!" She screamed again, her voice cracking as Scott and Stiles both tugged her backwards, running in the direction of the school.

The Alpha tossed Derek through the air and his body hit the brick wall of the school building with a loud thump before he landed limply on the ground. Amber made a high, keening noise of protest as she was dragged away and spun around to rush up the stairs to the building.

Scott wrenched open the doors and Stiles shoved her inside the school before the boys pulled the doors closed again and peered out of the tiny windows.

"Lock it! Lock it!" Scott shouted, holding the handlebar on the door tightly in his grip.

"Do I look like I have a key!" Stiles yelled back frantically.

"Grab something!" Scott told him in a rush.

"What!"

"Anything!" Scott shouted. Amber was frozen behind them. She looked at the way Stiles was staring out the window and her stomach dropped when Scott spoke again, "No." He told Stiles firmly.

"Yes."

"No, Stiles. Don't-" Scott started, but Stiles had wrenched the heavy doors open again.

Amber choked on a gasp as she watched Stiles disappear outside. She felt her airways closing off in panic, attempting to pull in choppy breaths. It was a long ten seconds before Scott yelled again and her heart clenched nervously as she listened to him frantically pounding on the metal doors, screaming for Stiles to hurry up.

"Run!" Scott yelled, "Stiles, run!"

After a few more seconds, the doors were pulled open once again and Stiles dashed through with the bolt cutters in his hands. Amber's chest sagged in relief at the sight of him and she watched him wrap the handles of the tool over the door handles to lock it into place.

The boys both peered out of the small windows again and looked out into the dark, Stiles shining the flashlight outside and pointing it out over the lot. The boys both backed away from the doors slowly and they nearly tripped over Amber when they reached the place where she was still standing, frozen in shock.

"Is that gonna hold it?" She asked quietly.

Stiles turned to look at her terrified face, "Probably not." He told her honestly.

"Derek's dead." She whispered suddenly, eyes dropping to the floor, "Derek's dead. It-It killed Derek." She repeated the words frantically. She took a shaky breath when she spotted a smudge of dark blood coating the fingertips of her right hand, where she'd reached out for him. "It killed Derek." She repeated hoarsely.

Scott dropped a hand onto her shoulder as Stiles stepped in front of her, taking her blood coated fingers into his grip. He quickly wiped away the warm dark liquid with the inside of his shirt before cupping her face between his hands.

"Amber, listen to me. I need you to redirect that adrenaline into something useful, okay? Like staying alive." Stiles told her urgently.

She nodded weakly as she looked at him with wide eyes, "Okay." She said, gaze flicking over toward Scott's frightened face, "Okay."

"Alright, then, we need to go-" Stiles started, words cutting off when a loud howl pierced through the night.

The three of them took off in a sprint, running down the hallway and ducking into an empty classroom. Stiles slammed the door closed behind them and Scott and Amber ran to the large teacher's desk at the front of the room to begin dragging it over to barricade the door.

"Stop, stop-" Stiles said after they'd moved it only a few inches, coming up to stand behind Amber, "The door's not gonna keep it out."

Scott sighed, "We know." He shook his head and leaned onto his hands over the desk.

"It's your boss." Amber said in realization, eyes rising to look at Scott in alarm.

"What?" Scott questioned her.

"Your boss." Stiles cut in, "Deaton? The Alpha. Your boss."

"No."

"Yes," Stiles told him sharply before speaking quietly, "Murdering psycho werewolf-"

"That can't be-" Scott insisted weakly, looking between Stiles and Amber.

"Then where did he go, Scott?" She snapped.

"I mean, come on! He disappears and that thing shows up ten seconds later to toss Derek twenty feet through the air?" Stiles recounted. Amber whimpered quietly at the reminder and Stiles patted her shoulder in apology without taking his eyes off of Scott, "That's not convenient timing, to you?"

"It's not him." Scott insisted.

"He killed Derek." Amber said venomously.

"No, Derek's not dead." Scott protested, looking to her for backup, "You know he can't be dead-"

"He is. He's dead." She choked out weakly.

"Don't do that to her, Scott." Stiles snapped, "Don't try and give her hope, alright? Blood spurted out of his mouth. That doesn't exactly qualify as a minor injury." He ranted, his hands gesturing around them wildly, "He's dead, and we're next."

"Okay-" Scott finally acquiesced, "Just- What do we do?"

"We have to get out of here." Amber said quietly, looking at her best friends, "Right?"

"Yes," Stiles agreed firmly, listing off the steps to his plan, "We get to my Jeep. We get out of here." He turned to Scott, "And you- You seriously consider quitting your job. Good?"

As the argument came to an end, Amber and Scott rushed over to the large wall of windows at the far side of the classroom. The two teens both went to the edges of the window frames to feel around for a lock, running their hands along the metal in search.

"No," Stiles said from behind them as he pulled Amber's hands away from the window, "They don't open. The school's climate-controlled."

She sighed heavily at the reminder, looking around them frantically to try and come up with a plan.

"Then we break them." Scott announced, looking back out the windows.

"Which will make a lot of noise." Stiles said nervously.

"Way too much noise." Amber agreed quickly.

"Then we run." Scott defended.

Amber peered out the window to determine the distance between them and the place where the Jeep was parked. Her eyes trailed along the path they would need to take before she squinted in confusion at the dark smudge on the hood of the vehicle.

"Stiles? What's wrong with your Jeep?" She questioned.

"What?" He asked in confusion, "What do you mean? Nothings wrong."

"I-I think it's... Bent." She said quietly, trying to focus her eyes in the dark.

"What, like dented?" He asked frantically, coming up behind her to look out over her shoulder.

As her eyes adjusted slowly, she realized the dark smudge was the place where the hood had been ripped upwards, the metal torn violently. "No.. I mean bent." She clarified.

Stiles looked out at his car in confusion, "What the hell happen-"

The glass of the window to their left suddenly shattered as an object was thrown through it. Amber turned away from the flying glass and grabbed onto Stiles as she ducked down to the ground, pulling him down roughly by his shoulder.

The three of them all crouched underneath the windows and Stiles squinted across the room before fumbling to shine his flashlight over the object that had broken through. A car battery was laying in the pile of glass ten feet away with a large, three pronged, claw-like scratch down its side, the wires torn and frayed.

"That's my battery." Stiles announced, beginning to rise to his feet until Amber forcefully pulled him back down onto the floor.

"Don't." Scott told him in warning.

"We have to move." Stiles told them in a panic.

Amber shook her head in fear, "No."

"He could be right outside." Scott pointed out.

"He is right outside." Stiles said obviously.

"Just let me take a look." Scott pleaded, waiting for both of them to nod in agreement before he slowly began to rise up to peek out the windows, whipping his head back and forth as he scanned the parking lot slowly.

"Anything?" Amber asked impatiently.

He shook his head, looking at his friends, "No."

"Leave now?" Stiles asked them quietly.

Amber nodded and Scott pulled her up by her sleeve, "Leave now," He agreed, tugging them both out the door. They separated as they came to a stop in the dark hallway, looking around themselves desperately for a heading, "This way-" Scott said, moving toward the north end of the school.

Amber went to follow him but Stiles pulled her back roughly, "No, no, no, no," He told them frantically, "Somewhere without windows."

"Every room in this building has windows, Stiles." Amber said quickly.

"Or somewhere with less windows." He simplified, looking between them with wide eyes as they all tried to come up with something.

"What, like a closet-?" Scott started, eyes drifting to the tiny janitor's closet a few feet away.

"Or the locker room." Amber said suddenly, picturing the tiny six inch tall windows that lined the ceiling inside the locker rooms.

"Yeah." Stiles agreed quickly.

They sprinted down the hallways to the locker room, skidding around corners and bumping into one another as they ran. When they reached the locker room, Scott pulled the door open and the three filed in, letting the door latch softly behind them.

"Call your dad." Scott told Stiles as they made it to the back end of the room outside of Coach Finstock's office.

"And tell him what?" Stiles questioned.

"I don't know! Anything!" Scott said, "Gas leak, a fire, whatever! If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it'll take off."

"Why would it take off at the sight of a bunch of very human police officers?" Amber asked.

"Yeah." Stiles agreed, "Yeah and what if it doesn't? What if it goes completely Terminator and just kills every cop in sight, including my dad?"

"They have guns!" Scott defended.

"And guns won't hurt it!" Amber frantically whispered.

"Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane laced bullet to even slow him down. You remember that, Scott?" Stiles questioned in frustration.

Scott seemed to deflate, looking away and raking his eyes over the room around them, "Then we- We have to.. We have to find a way out and just run for it."

"Run where?" Stiles asked incredulously, shaking his head.

"There's nothing near the school for at least a mile," Amber reminded Scott, but soon as the words were out of her mouth, she suddenly remembered the keys in the pocket of her borrowed shirt. Her eyes widened as she brought a hand up to feel them through the fabric, "We can take my car."

"Your car?" Scott and Stiles both asked in confusion.

"Since when do you have a car?" Stiles questioned.

"Last night." She told them. They both continued to look at her incredulously and she continued, "Things have been just a little bit crazy. So, I'm sorry if it slipped my mind." She hissed, shaking her head at them.

"Okay! Okay. We get outside. We get to Amber's car. We get the hell out of here." Stiles said slowly, nodding at his own forming plan.

"And Derek," She added, "We get Derek."

Stiles sighed and shook his hands out in frustration, "Fine. Whatever."

Without another word, they turned to weave back toward the front of the room. When they reached the exit, Stiles brought his hand to open the door but Scott snatched his hand away, grabbing onto the back of Amber's shirt collar and pulling both her and Stiles back a few steps.

"What?" They both whispered in question.

Scott squinted his eyes for a moment as he remained focused on the door, "I thought I heard something.." He told them. There was a small scuffling noise from the other side of the door and they all took another several steps back into the room with wide eyes. "Hide." Scott ordered quietly, watching as Stiles began to look around frantically before the boy seemed to pause with an idea, "No, no-"

Stiles didn't listen, immediately turning to the padlock-free locker beside him and throwing it open before closing himself inside.

"Stiles!" Amber hissed quietly.

Scott winced and grabbed the handle to the locker beside him that was also unused and without a lock, pulling it open and following suit by climbing inside.

"Scott!" Amber called in quiet panic, looking around at the rest of the lockers.

They all had locks.

Every other locker had a padlock and she rushed forward to pull hopelessly at a couple, praying for one of them to magically come undone. Her heart rate was picking up again in fear and she could feel the heavy thumping beneath her ribs as she tugged uselessly at another lock, "Guys, I don't-"

There was a quiet noise from the door to the locker room and she silenced, turning to the door with wide eyes. Just as the door handle began to move, Stiles threw open the door to his own locker behind her and pulled her inside with him with an arm curled around her stomach. He swung the metal door to the locker shut quietly just as the door to the room creaked open.

The space in the locker was incredibly tight. Though the lockers were tall enough that they were able to stand up inside, their bodies were forced snugly together. Amber was standing on top of one of Stiles' sneakers, her back pressed firmly against the warmth of his front, and there wasn't enough room to readjust. His arms were still wrapped around her, one at the front of her waist and the other over her chest where he had pulled the door shut.

Stiles huffed a nervous breath over the back of her neck as footsteps crept further into the room and she released a quiet whine in nervousness. The hand he had across her sternum rose to cover her mouth firmly and the breath that followed came out quietly through her nose as it puffed out over his fingers. She felt him muffle his own next breath into the back of her hair as he attempted to slow his breathing.

She peeked out of the tiny slats in the metal door and Stiles tilted his head to look too, his front still glued tightly against her backside and his breath puffing out into the hair at the top of her head.

They watched a dark shadow cross in front of the light streaming through the slats in the locker door and Amber breathed out another harsh breath through her nose in fear, grateful for the way Stiles' palm was pressed over her mouth.

The shadow stopped in front of Scott's locker across from them and the door was pulled open roughly, a loud scream following shortly after, but the scream hadn't come from Scott.

Amber flinched at the sound, her hand on the locker door knocking against the latch and causing her and Stiles to both tumble out in a tangled heap.

"Quiet!" Stiles quickly hushed the janitor standing at the center of the group.

He pulled Amber upright with the arm he still had wrapped around the front of her waist. She got her feet back underneath herself again with a hand on Scott's arm and the help of Stiles behind her, worriedly glancing at the locker room door and watching for any movement to indicate whether the Alpha had been drawn to all of the screaming.

The janitor looked back and forth between the three of them, his fear melting away into anger, "Quiet my ass!" He yelled at them, "What the hell are you all doing in here! No, you know what? I don't want to know, okay- Get out!"

"Just listen for half a second, okay?" Stiles said urgently.

"Not okay!" The janitor told them, "Take this perverted little threesome out of here right now!"

He circled around to the other side of them and gave the group a steady push as he led them toward the locker room door, shoving the three of them stumbling out into the hallway as soon as they were at the front of the room.

Amber looked around the dark hall worriedly, "No, we were-" She started as Stiles' voice yelled over hers.

"God, just one second to explain-!" He pleaded with the man.

"Just shut up and go-" The janitor began before he was pulled roughly back into the locker room by something behind him.

The door slammed shut as soon as the man was yanked across the threshold and they all watched in horror as he was thrown aggressively against the frosted glass window. The janitor screamed and clawed at the glass, smearing dark streaks of blood with his fingers. He dropped to the ground and out of view for only a moment before he was scraping his hands desperately at the glass again as he screamed in a mix of agony and fear.

Scott pushed Amber to the side as he took a step back toward the door with the intention of doing something to help but the man's screams were piercing. Amber and Stiles reached forward to pry Scott away from the door and down the hallway again.

They ran through the dark school once more, weaving through the halls stumbling in a tight cluster in an effort to stick together. Amber pushed her legs as they sprinted the final stretch toward the back doors of the school. When they approached the exit, the three of them reached to push down on the bar to open the door without slowing and they all rammed into the metal doors painfully and with a loud bang.

"Ow." Amber complained as they all pushed at the doors desperately again.

"What the hell?" Stiles asked when the doors still refused to open more than a couple of inches.

Scott peered through the tiny crack that they had been able to open the door, "It's a dumpster." He told them.

"He pushed it in front of the doors to block us in." Stiles realized suddenly, beginning to desperately slam himself against the door in an effort to push it open, "Come on, help me-" He told them.

"Stiles, stop." Amber said gently, pulling him back before he could hurt himself and tugging him along with her so they could find somewhere else to hide.

"I'm not dying here. I am not dying at school." Stiles told them frantically as they moved down the hallway and into the stairwell to go up. Amber reached out to grip his arm as she pulled him to move his feet quicker.

"We're not going to die." Scott promised them.

"What is it even doing? Why is it herding us?" Amber asked fearfully, looking between them as they continued to look for somewhere to take cover.

"What does it want?" Stiles asked in a high voice.

"Me." Scott told them, "It wants me. Derek said it's stronger with a pack."

"Well it can't have you!" Amber told him hurriedly.

"Great. It's great. A psychotic werewolf who's into teamwork." Stiles said sarcastically, "That- That's beautiful."

Scott suddenly reached out to stop them as he looked out the wall of second story windows beside them. Amber and Stiles both turned to see what had caught his attention and they spotted the Alpha perched on the roof at the other side of the courtyard. It crouched where it was looking at the group through the windows, red eyes glowing against the black sky. The Alpha suddenly bounded forward and took off in a sprint, racing across the roof to get to the side of the building they were on.

Amber yelped and three of them rushed back in the direction they'd come, running away as the Alpha crashed through the windows, glass flying as it landed with a thump in the hallway behind them. They didn't slow, cutting into a stairwell and gripping onto one another's arms as they all tumbled back down the steps. Scott continued on past the door that led to the first floor and went down to the basement, Amber and Stiles following close behind him.

They turned a corner toward the boiler room and Scott came to a stop at a set of old rusted lockers, leaning back against it as he took in labored breaths. Amber watched him, waiting for him to tell them what the plan was, but he just closed his eyes and continued to lean against the wall and rest.

"What?" Stiles asked him urgently after a moment.

Scott didn't respond, simply cracked open his eyes to look between his friends in fear.

"I- We have to do something." Amber told them, feeling reassured when Stiles nodded in agreement.

"Do what?" Scott asked anxiously.

Stiles waved his arms around frantically, "I don't know. Kill it. Hurt it. Inflict mental anguish on it. Something."

Ominous noises sounded from the end of the dark basement hallway and Amber gulped and took a step back into Stiles' space as they peered around the doorway that led to the boiler room. Stiles reached up a hand to pull her back into his chest, his arm curling around her sternum once again, and his hand brushed against the keys in her breast pocket with a quiet tinkling sound. He reached into the pocket and pulled the keys out, quieting them in his fist.

"Wait. Stiles, what are you-" She started in a whisper before being hushed violently by him.

She looked up at him in the dark and watched him peer down the hallway as a growl sounded out from the darkness. Before she could tell him not to, Stiles lifted the keys and tossed them away into a dark storage space with a loud clatter. The Alpha immediately ran toward the noise, sprinting past them and into the small room and the three of them rushed forward to slam the door shut behind it.

"The desk! Come on, the desk-" Stiles yelled at Scott, pointing to a large metal desk sitting a few feet away.

Amber took one step toward it but Scott grabbed at it without a word and pushed it over toward them to barricade the door. The moment it was blocked off, there was a loud growl of rage from the other side of the door and Amber flinched at the sound, talking a step back toward the wall behind her and Scott while the three of them kept their eyes glued on the makeshift cage.

The Alpha thumped against the backside of the door in outrage and caused the desk to jolt a few inches away, but Stiles was quick to push it back into position.

"Come on," Stiles told them urgently, gesturing for Scott and Amber to climb over to his side of the large desk that now separated them in the small space, "Get across, come on."

Scott hopped over first and slid over to the other side. Amber followed, climbing up after him and both boys reached out to pull her away from the windowed door faster. She slid down the surface and landed on her feet, stumbling into her friends before she managed to regain her footing.

They all leaned against the stone wall to the side of the door for a moment and took heavy panting breaths. Amber turned her head to the side when she saw Stiles creeping back toward the door with slow steps and her heart lurched in panic.

"What are you doing?" She asked quickly, reaching out to grab his jacket to pull him back from the caged beast.

"I just wanna get a look at it." He told her, moving to step toward the door again.

"Are you crazy?" Scott asked him in a rush.

"It's trapped, okay? It's not gonna get out." Stiles assured them, stepping up to the door again and tugging his jacket out of Amber's fist before climbing up on the desk to peek through the tiny chain-link window.

Amber watched him amble up fearfully, "Stiles, don't-"

"Yeah, that's right. We got you." Stiles taunted at the door.

"Will you shut up?" Scott hissed.

"I'm not scared of this thing alright?" Stiles told them, turning his head back to the window just as a loud growl sounded at the door, causing him to flinch back and roll off of the desk.

"Well, I am so can you please-" Amber pleaded, reaching out to grab his wrist and give it a useless tug.

"I'm not scared of you!" Stiles taunted louder, yelling at the door and remaining in place beside the desk despite the way Amber was pulling at his arm, "Right. 'Cause you're in there, and we're out here. You're not going anywh-"

There was a sudden crash as the Alpha broke through something to escape its cage and Amber took a step away and bumped into Scott, tripping over his feet as she pulled Stiles back with her. The crashing and thumping continued and moved until it sounded out directly above them. They all turned their heads to the ceiling in fear, watching as the metal over their heads bent and warped under the Alpha's weight.

There was only a moment of hesitation before they all took off again, turning and running before the Alpha could break through. Amber kept a tight grip on the sleeves of her best friend's jackets as they moved through the basement, all of them breathing heavily.

"Wait," Scott suddenly paused, "Do you hear that?"

"Oh god, is it coming for us again?" Amber asked quietly.

"What? Hear what?" Stiles questioned nervously.

"It sounds like a phone ringing." Scott said, looking between them.

"Well it's not mine," Amber told him as she pressed her fingers against the phone in her back pocket. She leaned over to reach around Stiles and pat her hand over his pocket as well and he swatted her hand away with an aborted noise but she'd felt his the rectangle of his phone beneath the fabric, "And it's not Stiles' either-"

"No. I know that ring," Scott interrupted with wide eyes, "It's Allison's phone."

"Allison?" Stiles asked incredulously.

"I- Why would Allison be here?" Amber asked Scott.

"I don't know!" Scott said worriedly, "Just- One of you just give me your phone!"

She and Stiles both fumbled for a moment but Amber managed to get her cell phone into Scott's outstretched hand without dropping it. They watched as Scott clicked Allison's contact at the top of the list and waited for her to pick up.

"Amber?" Allison's distant voice asked through the tiny speaker pressed against Scott's ear.

"No, it's me. Where are you?" Scott asked frantically.

"I'm at the school looking for you." Allison told him, "Why weren't you at my place?"

"You didn't think to cancel plans with your girlfriend before you decided to call the Alpha?" Amber hissed at Scott, only to be hushed by him and pulled back half a step by Stiles' hand on her arm.

"Where are you right now?" Scott asked Allison.

"On the first floor." Her tiny voice came through.

"Where?" Scott questioned her quickly, "Where are you exactly?"

"The swimming pools.." Allison clarified with confusion in her voice.

"Get to the lobby," Scott told her, "Go now."

Before he'd even hung up the phone, Scott was rushing off toward the stairwell. Amber and Stiles chased after him as the three ran to meet Allison, and they found her waiting in front of the trophy case in the front hall, phone in hand.

"Why did you come? Wh-What are you doing here?" Scott asked frantically as they approached.

"Because you asked me to-?" Allison told him slowly, eyes flicking between the three of them. Amber's eyes narrowed in confusion and she found the same look on Stiles and Scott's faces in response to the information.

"I asked you to?" Scott repeated, looking at his friends with wide eyes before returning his attention to Allison. The girl in question flicked through her phone for a few seconds before displaying an incoming text message from an unknown number.

Meet me at the school. URGENT -Scott

Amber read the message over Scott's shoulder with a sick feeling in her stomach, eyes meeting Allison's for a moment and causing the girl's face to fall further.

"Why do I get the feeling you didn't send this message?" Allison asked quietly, looking between them again.

"Because I didn't." Scott confirmed quickly.

Amber took a shaky breath, "Did you drive here?" She asked Allison suddenly.

"I thought we were taking your car?" Scott interrupted.

"We were," Amber told him, "Until Stiles threw my keys."

"Those were your keys?!" Scott asked in distress, shifting his focus to the other boy, "Stiles, what the hell, man-"

"It doesn't matter!" Amber interrupted, eyeing Allison intently, "Did you drive here?" She repeated.

Allison looked between them somewhat suspiciously, "Jackson did."

"Jackson's here too?" Scott asked, voice gaining in volume.

"And Lydia," Allison told them, eyes narrowing when Amber gasped quietly, "What's going on? Who sent this text?"

Amber stumbled a small step to the side and leaned her weight against Stiles when his arm came up to support her. Lydia was here. All of her friends were here. And so was the Alpha. She felt sick as her mind replayed the words Derek had told her the day before.

"Just because it left you and your friends alive last night, doesn't mean you'll be so lucky next time."

Allison's phone rang out loudly in the quiet and she answered it quickly, "Where are you?" She asked the person on the other line.

Just as quickly as she had asked the question, the metal doors that led to the next hallway over slammed open and Lydia and Jackson strolled through. Lydia's eyes caught on Amber and she sighed at her presence with a small eye roll, as if thinking that she should've figured she'd find Amber there, before turning toward Allison.

"Finally. Can we go now?" Lydia asked Allison.

Before anyone could answer her question, there was an all too familiar sound of metal creaking as it bent and stretched in the ceiling above them. Their heads all snapped up to the ceiling tiles as they moved beneath the weight of the Alpha.

Amber shook her head in denial before whispering, "No, no! We were in the basement! How did-"

"Run!" Scott told the group, interlocking his fingers with Allison's and pushing Amber and Stiles forward with his free hand.

They took off just as the Alpha broke through and dropped down from the ceiling behind them. Amber gripped Stiles' hand tightly in hers and peeked over her shoulder as they ran to find the Alpha trailing close behind the group. Lydia was running half a step behind Jackson in her high-heels and Amber reached her free hand back to grab her by the wrist, pulling the redhead forward to fall into step beside Stiles and herself.

There was a quiet growl from behind them as the Alpha gave chase, and they all seemed to push that much harder at the sound.

Stiles released Amber's hand so he could push open the double doors to the Cafeteria and the group burst through the doors and into the lunchroom. Amber watched Scott immediately reach to the top of the doors as he frantically began to latch and lock them into place.

Lydia pulled her arm from Amber's grip to huddle beside Jackson in the sudden silence and Amber was left breathing heavily in the center of the room, heart pounding with adrenaline and fear. Scott looked toward the tables and chairs stacked up against the wall and began to grab them and barricade the door shut.

"Help me get this in front of the door." Scott told the others loudly as he worked.

"Scott, wait. Not here." Stiles cut in.

Scott continued to block the door and Amber turned to Stiles with the intention of asking what was wrong. She found him looking up at the large wall of windows with worried eyes and she immediately moved forward to pull him away from the vulnerable spot, her hand wrapping firmly around his bicep.

"What was that?" Allison asked in a shaky voice, "Scott! What was that?"

"What came out of the ceiling?" Lydia questioned hysterically.

Amber was at a loss for what to tell them and Scott turned to the group in frustration, "Will you just help me? The chairs! Stack the chairs." He directed.

"Guys, wait-" Amber pleaded as they all began to work together to barricade the doors.

"Can we just wait a second-" Stiles started, stepping forward and pulling Amber along with him, "You guys, listen to me. We- Can we wait a second?"

Every chair and table in the room was being moved to block the doorway and Amber squeezed her fingers that much tighter around Stiles' arm as her eyes flicked worriedly between the doorway and the large windows behind them.

"Guys-?" She tried again, but no one was listening.

"Hello? Stiles talking." Stiles continued, "Can we hang on one second, please? Hello!" He finished in a shout.

Everyone's attention finally ripped away from their task and they turned to look back at Stiles and Amber.

"Okay, nice work," Stiles told them sarcastically, pointing to the thoroughly barricaded doors, "Really. Beautiful job, everyone. Now, what should we do about the twenty foot wall of windows?" He asked, turning to grandly gesture behind Amber and himself.

There was a moment of silence and Amber could feel her heart continuing to pound against her ribcage violently with adrenaline. All of her friend's faces wore frightened looks to match her own and her mind raced to find an escape, her eyes flicking around the lunchroom.

"Can somebody please explain to me what's going on?" Allison interrupted frantically, looking between Amber and Stiles before eventually settling on Scott, "Because I am really freaking out here and I would like to know why. Scott?"

Scott pulled away from Allison's grip and moved to the other side of the room, settling his hands on one of the remaining tables to take a few deep breaths. He looked up at his best friends, silently pleading for help.

"Somebody killed the janitor." Amber explained in a shaky murmur, pulling some of the focus away from Scott.

"What?" Lydia asked with tears in her voice.

"Yeah. It's true." Stiles said quietly, settling a hand over Amber's on his arm and taking a few steps toward the group of newcomers, "The janitor's dead."

"What are they talking about?" Allison asked Scott with a hysterical laugh, "Is this a joke?"

"What-? Who killed him?" Jackson cut in after a moment of silence.

"I don't know." Amber told him with a shake of her head.

"No, no, no, no, no-" Lydia pleaded, "This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion killed-"

"No," Jackson interrupted her harshly, "Don't you get it? There was never a mountain lion."

"W- Who was it?" Allison cried to Scott, "What does he want? What's happening?" When she got no response she clenched her jaw and shouted across the room, "Scott!"

"I-I don't know." Scott told them, "I just- I-If we go out there he's gonna kill us."

"Us?" Lydia repeated frantically, "He's gonna kill us?"

"Who? Who is it?" Allison questioned, turning her attention between the three of them again.

Amber squeezed Stiles' arm as they struggled to come up with an answer, gnawing on her lower lip painfully as she fought to think of something, anything.

Scott shook his head anxiously before seemingly coming up with an answer, "It's Derek. Derek Hale."

Amber's head snapped to Scott with a deadly glare, and she released Stiles to step toward Scott with venom in her voice, "Scott, what the hell are you-"

"Derek killed the janitor?" Jackson interrupted for clarification.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked Scott, her eyes flicking between her boyfriend and the clear rage that Amber was having trouble disguising.

"I saw him!" Scott told them, still refusing to look anywhere but at the table in front of him.

Lydia swallowed, "The mountain lio-"

"No!" Scott interrupted, "Derek killed them."

"All of them?" Allison questioned.

"Yeah," Scott told them, "Starting with his own sister."

A low growl-like noise crept up from Amber's throat but she was pulled back when she made a move to continue toward Scott. She spun around sharply with angry tears in her eyes to see Stiles pulling her toward him gently, shaking his head at her. He rubbed her arms in sympathy while Scott continued to list off the recent murders, explaining them all away as Derek's doing. She tried to focus on the feeling of Stiles' hands dragging back and forth over her biceps as she looked around at her friends and took a couple of shaky breaths.

"-If we don't get out now, he's going to kill us too." Scott finished.

"Call the cops." Jackson loudly reasoned.

Stiles' attention was torn from the girl in front of him at the suggestion, his head whipping back around sharply, "No." He told the other boy immediately.

"Wh- What do you mean, 'no'?" Jackson asked in disbelief.

"I mean no," Stiles repeated, "You want to hear it in Spanish? 'No.'"

"Look," Amber started, fighting to keep her voice steady, "Three people are dead already, okay? We shouldn't call anybody yet because.. Whoever it is, we don't know what they're armed with, right?"

"His dad is armed with the entire Sheriff's station." Jackson told her incredulously, "Call him."

"I'm calling." Lydia announced, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

"Wh- No, Lydia-" Amber stepped forward to stop her.

"Lydia, would you hold on a sec-" Stiles tried, also moving toward after the girl.

Jackson stepped into their path and shoved Amber and Stiles toward the windows and away from Lydia. Scott stepped toward his friends defensively and placed himself protectively between Jackson and Amber's bodies.

"Yes, we're at Beacon Hills High School." Lydia was saying frantically into her cellphone, "We're trapped and we need you to- But-" She listened to the person on the other line for a moment before looking down at her phone, with wide eyes, "She hung up on me."

"The police hung up on you?" Allison repeated in confusion.

Lydia nodded slowly, "She said they got a tip warning them that there are gonna be prank calls about a break-in at the high school. She-She said if I call back again they're gonna trace it and have me arrested."

"Holy shit." Amber whispered in a fearful realization. They had thought they'd been calling the Alpha here, but it seemed as if it were actually the other way around, between the text to Allison and the tip to the police station, the Alpha was somehow five steps ahead of them.

"Okay, then call them again and let them trace it." Allison reasoned.

"No, they won't trace a cell. They'll send a car to your home address before they send anyone here." Stiles explained disparagingly.

Amber watched Jackson's jaw clench in annoyance and Lydia and Allison both just looked terrified.

"Wh-what the.. What is this?" Allison asked, hands running agitatedly through her hair, "Why does Derek want to kill us? Why is he killing anyone?"

Everyone's gaze drifted over to Scott for an answer and he startled when he noticed their attention after a few seconds, "Why is everyone looking at me?" He squeaked.

"Well, you're the one who says you saw Derek." Amber told her friend coldly.

"Is he the one who sent Allison the text?" Lydia asked him worriedly.

"No!" Scott denied immediately before backtracking, "I mean.. I don't know."

"Is he the one that called the police?" Allison asked quickly.

"I don't know!" Scott shouted the words at her and Allison's face tightened in response before she turned away from him.

"Alright, let's ease back on the throttle a little here, yeah?" Stiles insisted, placing one hand on Scott's arm and the other at the center of Amber's back to lead them both a few steps away, moving to the other side of the lunchroom for privacy.

Amber took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself and focussed on the two boys in front of her.

Stiles turned to Scott in a whisper, "Okay. First off, throwing Derek under the bus? Nicely done."

Scott looked at Amber with regret in his eyes, "I didn't know what to say. I-I had to say something. And if he's dead then it doesn't matter, right?" At the glare he received from Amber he carried on, "Except if he's not.. And, oh god, I totally just bit her head off." Scott looked over Amber's shoulder worriedly at Allison.

"And she'll totally get over it." Stiles assured him, trying to refocus the conversation.

"There are bigger issues, right now." Amber whispered in frustration.

"-Like, how do we get out alive?" Stiles continued.

Scott looked at them with wide eyes, "But we are alive. It could've killed us already.. It's like it's cornering us or something."

"So, what? It wants to eat us all at the same time?" Stiles questioned.

"Great!" Amber whispered sarcastically, "So it-it's just playing with-"

"No!" Scott interrupted quietly, "Derek said it wants revenge."

"Revenge?" Stiles repeated, "Revenge for what?"

"And against who?" Amber questioned.

"Allison's family?" Scott wondered aloud, looking between the two of them.

"Maybe that's what the text was about," Stiles pondered aloud, "I mean, someone had to send it."

"God. What else have the Argents done?" Amber bemoaned.

"Hey, assheads one, two, and three." Jackson's voice interrupted loudly, "New plan. Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?"

"God. Do you have to be such an unbelievably insufferable asshole every second of every day?" Amber snapped at him, rage burning in her chest.

"He's right." Scott announced. His best friends both snapped their heads around to look at him in disbelief and he continued, "Tell him the truth if you have to, just.. Just call him."

At Scott's sudden shift in opinion, Amber attempted to sneak Stiles' phone from his pocket to hide it away from the rest of their friends. She gripped it protectively and let the long sleeve of the flannel she was wearing drop down to cover the device in her hand.

"I am not watching my dad get eaten alive." Stiles whispered, his eyes dropping to where Amber was holding his phone and nudging her a step further away from the group without another word.

"Alright. Give me the phone-" Jackson demanded angrily, grabbing onto Amber's shoulder roughly and jerking her back in an attempt to get the cellphone.

"Ah, Ow-" She yelped in response to his grip on her shoulder as she stumbled back a few steps, continuing to hold the phone away from Jackson.

Before she could even regain her footing, Stiles had stepped into the space between her and Jackson, his hand tightened into a fist and immediately made contact with Jackson's nose, the punch emitting a loud crunch.

"Jackson!" Allison rushed to check if he was okay while he clutched at his nose.

Amber's eyes widened and she grabbed Stiles by his shoulders to spin him around to face her. She watched him take a deep breath and unclench his fingers from their tight fist as he continued to glare at the boy behind her. Stiles' eyes were dark with anger and she reached up to cup his cheek softly in an attempt to pull his focus away from Jackson.

She continued to look at him worriedly, hazel eyes flicking over his face, "Sti, what-"

He clenched his jaw and pulled his phone from Amber's grip, stepping back out of her reach and thumbing at his phone screen as he scrolled down to his dad's contact. He brought the phone up to his ear and his stiff shoulders relaxed a fraction when it rang through to his dad's voicemail.

"Dad. Hey, it's me. And it's your voicemail.." Stiles sighed, "Look I need you to call me back, now. Like, right now." There was a sudden crash at the barricaded doors and everyone turned toward the sound in fear, collectively moving a step further back into the Cafeteria, "We're at the school. Dad. We're at the school." He finished quickly and ended the call.

As soon as Stiles slid his cell phone back into his pocket, his clammy hand grabbed Amber's and he held onto it tightly. They all watched the doors wide-eyed as they shook from the impact of the Alpha ramming into them, Amber and Lydia both letting out a small scream at a particularly loud bang against the doors.

"The kitchen," Stiles said suddenly, tightening his grip on Amber's hand, "The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell."

"Those stairs only go up." Amber told him as the doors shook violently again.

"Up is better than here." Stiles reasoned, pulling her back a step toward the kitchens.

Screws began popping loose from the door hinges due to the creature violently bashing against them from the other side and the group of teens all took a few steps away in response.

"Okay, yeah. Kitchens." Amber told everyone quickly.

They raced back into the kitchen and through the stairwell, stumbling up the steps as they ran to the second floor. When they spilled out into the hallway, the group split off in opposite directions as they searched for an unlocked door. They tried three before Lydia got the door to the Chemistry classroom open and they all piled in after her.

Once the door slammed shut, Scott quickly propped a chair up underneath the door handle in a weak attempt to keep them safe and the sound of their heavily breathing was loud in the sudden silence. Amber watched Scott pinch his eyes shut as he tried to focus on the location of the Alpha and she stepped in front of him, creating a wall and blocking him off from the rest of the group.

Only a few seconds later, even their human ears could pick up on the Alpha stomping loudly down the hallway. As it approached the classroom, it growled lowly as its shadow fell over the frosted glass of the small window on the door, stopping in front of the room for only a moment before it continued on down the hall with heavy footsteps.

Amber looked up at Stiles and Scott in confusion as the sound of the Alpha faded away and they both looked as relieved and surprised about the surprising turn of events as she did.

"Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?" Scott whispered quickly.

"We could fit all six if someone squeezes on someone's lap." Jackson told them.

"Six?" Allison whispered incredulously, "I barely fit in the back."

"I will go in the trunk if it means getting out of here." Amber said quickly.

"It doesn't matter," Stiles cut in, "There's no getting out without drawing attention."

"What about this?" Scott asked, rushing over to a door at the other side of the room, "This leads to the roof. We can go down the fire escape to the parking lot in like, seconds."

Amber pulled at the handle and it turned, but the door remained locked firmly in place. Her eyes went up to the keyhole higher up on the door and she sighed, "There's a deadbolt." She told him, releasing the handle.

Scott furrowed his brows in thought for a moment before his head snapped up to look between her and Stiles, "The janitor has a key."

"You mean his body has it." Stiles corrected with a frown.

"I can get it," Scott whispered to the two of them, "I can find him by scent. By blood."

"Well, gee. That sounds like an incredibly terrible idea." Stiles told him, "What else you got?"

"Scott, you can't be serious." Amber whispered.

"I'm serious." Scott whispered determinedly. He walked back toward the door to the classroom and spoke more loudly to the entire group, "I'm getting the key."

"Are you serious?" Allison repeated Amber's previous question.

"It's the best plan," Scott reasoned, "Someone has to get the key if we wanna get out of here."

"You can't go out there unarmed." Allison told him sharply.

Scott looked around the front of the room for a moment before grabbing a thin wooden pointing stick that Mr. Harris sometimes used against the blackboard.

"No." Amber said immediately, grabbing the ridiculous excuse for a weapon from his hands and throwing it on the floor behind the teacher's desk with a quiet clatter.

"Wh- It's better than nothing." Scott defended, looking longingly at where the stick lay on the floor behind her.

"There's gotta be something else." Stiles reasoned.

"There is." Lydia said quickly, unsubtly eying the chemical cabinet against the wall beside them.

"What are we gonna do, Lyds?" Amber asked, "Throw acid on him?"

"No." Lydia said slowly, looking at her friend in disappointment before explaining, "Like a fire bomb. In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov Cocktail."

"A self-igniting.." Stiles repeated slowly.

"-Molotov Cocktail." Lydia finished and Amber nodded slowly, trusting her friend's intelligence, while the rest of the group was looking at Lydia in hesitant disbelief, "What? I read it somewhere." Lydia defended.

Stiles looked at the glass cabinet again and sighed, "We don't have a key for that either."

Amber grabbed the stapler from the desk and moved to break the glass without hesitation, but Jackson gently eased her back a step before she could follow through and thrust his leather jacket covered elbow through the window, shattering the window and prompting shards of glass to rain down onto the floor at their feet.

Lydia began directing them, listing of what chemicals and beakers she needed, and Amber and Jackson pulled them out and moved them all to a lab station where Lydia began to measure carefully and pour the ingredients into a conical flask.

"Jackson, hand me the sulphuric acid." Lydia demanded as she swirled the chemicals carefully around the wide bottom of the narrow necked glass.

His hand reached out immediately to a container before hesitating and repositioning to grab the one beside it. He handed it over to Lydia silently and she slowly poured the liquid into the beaker before closing it off with a cork and handing the weapon over to Scott.

"No," Allison's voice cracked as she turned to Scott, "No, this is insane. You can't do this. You cannot go out there."

"We can't just sit here waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages." He told her.

"You could die." Allison cried, "Don't you get that? He's killed three people."

"And we're next." Scott tried to reason as she sighed and shook her head, "Somebody has to do something."

"Scott, just stop." Allison hissed, "Do you remember when you told me you knew whether or not I was lying? That I had a tell?" She cried quietly, "Well so do you. You're a horrible liar, and you've been lying all night. Just-Just please don't go. Please don't leave us. Please." Allison begged.

Scott looked at Allison with guilt swimming in his eyes before his gaze traveled over to where Amber was standing beside Stiles, "Lock it behind me." He told them.

Amber nodded nervously, her fear for Scott's safety causing her hands to tremble as she stepped forward to follow his order, "Let me come with you." She pleaded quietly.

Stiles made a noise of protest behind her and Scott shook his head, "You know why I can't let you do that, Amber." He said quietly.

She nodded once dejectedly as they stepped up to the door. Scott moved the chair from underneath the handle and peeked into the hallway cautiously before he stepped out of the room with the beaker clasped tightly in his right hand.

"Be safe. Please." Amber whispered.

He nodded and she closed the door behind him and flicked the lock with a lump in her throat, propping the chair back up underneath the doorknob with a shaky breath.

Stiles stepped up behind her and pulled her away from the door with a finger through the belt loop on the back of her jeans. He guided her over to where the rest of the group had congregated at a countertop along the wall between lab stations and he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the surface, tugging her back to stand between his legs. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her back into his chest, squeezing her in a tight embrace as his chin dropped onto the top of her head.

They all waited silently, nerves and anxiety filling the room as the minutes passed slowly.

"I don't get this," Allison spoke after several long minutes of silence, "I don't get why he's out there. Why he left us. And I can't- I can't stop my hands from shaking."

They all watched as Jackson took Allison's trembling hands into his own, "It's okay," He assured her, "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

Lydia crossed her arms silently as Jackson comforted Allison and Amber reached out a hand to pull Lydia over toward Stiles and herself. She reluctantly allowed herself to be pulled and Amber took one of her hands in her own.

Amber took slow breaths as she focussed on the warmth from Stiles' chest and arms. She intently thought about the firmness of his thighs on either side of her. Thought about Lydia's hand in hers.

Amber watched Lydia look distractedly at the messy lab station at the front of the room for a few moments before redhead's eyebrows furrowed, "Jackson, you handed me the sulfuric acid, right?" Lydia questioned, "It has to be sulfuric acid. It won't ignite if it's not."

Amber thought back to the way he had hesitated before handing the chemical over and she frowned in confusion.

"I gave you exactly what you asked for tonight." Jackson told her quickly.

"Yeah." Lydia agreed unconvincingly, "Yeah, I'm sure you did."

Amber looked over toward the lab station again and her stomach churned with fear at the thought of Scott being out there with the Alpha, completely unprotected. Stiles' grip around her shoulders tightened as if he was having the same panicked thought and she leaned back into his space more firmly as she took another trembling breath.

There was a sudden echoing roar from somewhere in the school, the walls shaking with it the same way they had when Scott had called out for the Alpha earlier in the night, and Amber's skin erupted into goosebumps at the chilling sound.

Jackson gasped suddenly and reached up to cover the scabs on the back of his neck, dropping to his knees at Amber's feet as the loud noise faded away. He screamed in pain and Amber flinched back, eyes wide.

When his hand fell away from his neck to grip at the floor, Amber looked at the wound up close for the first time since the video store. The light filtering in through the windows gave a better view and she could now see that the small scabs looked almost like puncture marks. From a set of claws.

Stiles held Amber back, arms still curled tightly around her chest as Allison and Lydia squatted down to pull Jackson up to his feet while he groaned.

"No, I'm fine." Jackson said suddenly as he pulled away, his voice clearing of the pain that had laced it before, "Seriously. I'm fine."

"No offense, but that sounded far from okay." Amber told him quietly.

Stiles reached out past Amber to extend his fingers toward Jackson, "What's on the back of your neck-"

Jackson flinched away from Stiles' outstretched hand, "I said I'm fine."

"Well, it's been there for days but he won't tell me what happened." Lydia told them with a knowing tilt of her head.

Jackson spun toward her with a glare, "As if you actually care."

"Hey! What did I say about being a dick?" Amber cut in, scowling at Jackson.

"Alright, can we not argue for half a second here?" Stiles asked, jumping down from the counter to place himself between the two.

"Where's Scott?" Allison wondered aloud, "He should be back by now."

There was a sudden sound of metal snapping at the door of the classroom, quiet but distinct, like that of a key being broken off in a lock, and they all spun toward the door.

"Scott?" Allison called out, beginning to pull the chair away from the door again, "Scott!"

"Where is he going?" Lydia asked in worried confusion.

Amber took a breath and attempted to speak over the sounds of Allison pounding on the door and shouting for Scott, "I- He-"

"Stop-" Lydia cut in, shouting over Allison, "Stop!" The girl finally quieted and Lydia spoke quietly, "Do you hear that? Listen."

Sirens were wailing quietly in the distance, gaining in volume as they got closer, and the group of teens all rushed toward the windows in time to watch a cluster of police vehicles pull up behind Stiles' Jeep in the parking lot.

Amber took Stiles' hand reassuringly and they waited at the door to the classroom until they heard someone approach. They explained through the closed door about the broken key and the lock was removed to free them just a few moments later.

The group was separated to give their statements and Amber watched over the shoulder of the deputy in front of her with wide eyes as her friends recounted the events of the night. She rushed through the questions and ran over to Scott and Stiles just as the Sheriff began to lead them out of the building.

"You're sure it was Derek Hale?" Sheriff Stilinski was asking them.

"No." Amber said at the same time Scott answered, "Yes."

"No." She repeated adamantly.

"I saw him too." Stiles verified with a wince, reaching up to pat her on the shoulder in apology.

"What about the janitor?" Scott asked the Sheriff.

"We're still looking," Sheriff Stilinski told them as they made their way down the stairs and into the parking lot.

"Did you check under the bleachers?" Scott clarified, "Under them."

The Sheriff sighed, "Yeah, Scott. We looked. We pulled 'em out just like you asked. There's nothing."

"I'm not making this up." Scott defended.

"I know. I believe you, I do." Sheriff Stilinski assured him.

"No, you don't." Scott snapped, coming to a stop just before they reached the parking lot, "You have this look like you feel bad for me. Like you wanna believe us but I know you don't."

Amber paused beside them and reached out to grip Scott's arm comfortingly.

"Listen," The Sheriff said, looking between the three of them, "We're gonna search this whole school. We're gonna find him, okay? I promise."

"Sheriff!" Someone called from the back of the parking lot in the cluster of police vehicles.

Stiles' dad nodded and gave them all a sad smile before he took off toward where he was needed, turning around at the last second to point an accusing finger at his son, "Stay." Stiles raised his arms in surrender before his father focussed on Amber and Scott, "All three of you."

Stiles watched until his father was a safe distance away before he spoke, "Well, we survived." He reached a hand up to rest on each of their shoulders, "Y'know? We outlasted the Alpha. It's good, right? Being alive?"

Scott shook his head, "When we were in the Chemistry room, he walked right past us." He told them, "You don't think he heard us? You don't think it knew exactly where we were?"

"Then why didn't it break in and kill us?" Amber asked quietly.

"Yeah, how come we're still alive?" Stiles questioned.

"It wants me in its pack." Scott told them loudly, looking around to be sure no one heard before he continued, "But, I think.. First I have to get rid of my old pack."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, "What old pack?"

"Is that why it killed Derek?" Amber questioned, feeling sick.

"Allison, Jackson, Lydia, both of you. You're my pack." Scott explained.

"The- The Alpha doesn't want to kill us.." Amber said slowly in realization.

Stiles sighed, "It wants you-"

"It wants me to do it." Scott confirmed. "And that's not the worst part."

"How in holy hell is that not the worst part, Scott?" Stiles bemoaned with a shake of his head.

"Because," Scott started, "When he called out and made me shift, I-I wanted to do it. I wanted to kill you. Both of you.. All of you." He told them in a hushed whisper.

Amber gulped as she processed the information and looked at Scott sadly, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Stiles stepped behind her and wrapped his forearm protectively across her collarbones, tugging her back a couple of steps until she was leaning against his chest and further away from Scott. She reached her hand up to grip his arm where it rested over her chest and the three were silent for a moment as they thought about what it all meant.

"Scott," Amber finally spoke quietly, drawing the attention of both boys, "It's gonna be okay." He looked at her with a sad pitying look, as if he didn't believe her, and she continued, "It will. We- We'll figure it out, okay?"

He shook his head but aborted the movement when something behind her and Stiles caught his eye. He immediately stepped past them and began walking away, both of his friends trailing behind him in confusion until they saw who was sitting at the back of the ambulance in the parking lot.

"There you are." Dr. Deaton greeted where he was wrapped up in a blanket with a bandage on his forehead.

Amber resolutely remained a few steps away, keeping Stiles beside her as she eyed the man distrustfully.

"How- How did you-" Scott started.

"Get out?" Dr. Deaton finished, "Not easily. And from what they tell me, I'm alive because of you." He smiled at Scott, and Amber narrowed her eyes at the man, "I think I owe you a raise."

"Guys, c'mon," Sheriff Stilinski suddenly spoke from beside them, tugging her and Stiles a few steps away, "Let's let the EMTs do their job. You can talk to him later."

"Fat chance." Amber muttered under her breath, receiving a soft elbow to the side from Stiles in response.

She suddenly caught sight of a familiar pickup truck driving through from the back of the parking lot and she sighed woefully, squeezing Stiles' shoulder before heading over. Her brother threw himself from the vehicle in a regretfully similar way to two nights before and she allowed herself to be wrapped up in a hug when he reached her.

He began to pull back and she spoke quickly, "Jason, wait. Before you say anything- Just, know that I'm so insanely sorry and I know I promised that this wouldn't happen again and I feel awful for making you worry and leave the station but-" She paused to take a shaky breath, "But please don't tell me that I have to sleep at home alone tonight, okay? Because if you do, I-I don't know if I can-"

"Hey, hey-" He pulled her back into his chest and hugged her tight, "You know I just want you to be safe, right?" He muttered into her hair, "That's all I want, bud. I- I'm so glad you're okay."

She nodded into his muscular chest and took a shaky breath, her mind flashing to all of the similarities her brother shared with Derek physically. She couldn't help but think about the long list of ways that he and Jason had been so alike. Her eyes burned with unshed tears and she tightened her arms around her brother's back, finally letting go of a breath she felt like she'd been holding in as she sobbed quietly into her brother's tshirt, mourning Derek Hale.

Later that night, Amber laid in the center of her bed with red puffy eyes, the warmth of Scott and Stiles' arms pressed lightly against either side of her in the dark room.

"I meant what I said earlier, y'know," She told them quietly, looking up at the ceiling, "We're gonna figure this out. I-I mean, we have to. I won't lose either of you."

She reached out underneath the blankets to take one of Stiles' hands into her own and wrapped the fingers of her free hand around Scott's forearm.

Stiles automatically tightened his grip in silent reassurance, "Yeah, we've got this," He announced in a low voice, "I mean, we figured out the whole control thing in like six hours. What's stopping us from figuring out how to tell the stupid Alpha 'no means no' and all that."

"I mean we-" Amber started with a heavy heart, "We had Derek's advice last time." She said quietly, her mind flashing back to the way that the police had searched the school grounds up and down, looking for any sign of their suspect, only to come up empty-handed.

"And if Allison was the key to my control, I think it's safe to say we're pretty much screwed considering she broke up with me." Scott whispered sadly.

"Hey, no-" Stiles cut in, "None of that. From either of you. If we're gonna do this we're gonna need to do it together, alright? As a team."

"No, you're right," Amber agreed, squeezing his hand softly. She released Scott to curl her arm underneath her head, rolling onto her side to face him. The movement pulled Stiles along with her and he rolled onto his side behind her, their joined hands resting on her hip, "We'll figure it out.. As a team."

#stiles stilinski x oc #stiles #selenophiles #stilesfic #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien fanfic #teen wolf season one #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf rewrite #1x07 #*

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momodoesposts · 1 year

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shark week, a hendery fanfic

Hendery x reader

Afab reader

Word count: 1,620

Tw: period cramps, mention of pain,curse words, hendery is a jack ass, sexual jokes, mention of oral (nothing happens), ten is a cockblock, kun is embarrassed

You groan in pain at what feels like a knife twisting in your stomach. Every month you underestimate how badly cramps hurt and regret not going to the doctor's office for prescribed medicine because you're curled up on the bed, groaning and shivering in agony. You grip the plushie that your boyfriend got you, cursing yourself for letting the pain get to you.

Suddenly the door bursts open, an excitable Hendery bursting in. You squint at him, confused at the sudden intrusion.

As soon as he catches your eyes, he jumps on the bed and wraps his arms around you, tickling your sides. "Pookie! I missed you-!" there he goes again, using that god-awful nickname again.

You push your boyfriend off of you, glaring daggers at him. Hendery holds his hands up defensively. "Woah, who peed in your cereal?" he teases, poking at your sides again.

"Babe, I'm just in a lot of pain, okay? So, please, for the love of god, stop-!" you shove his hands off you, resulting in him pouting at you.

"Just take an Advil or something? I want to put plastic wrap in front of Xiaojun's door; come on!" he grabs your hand and pulls you towards him, and you smack his hands.

"Leave me alone, please!" you retreat under the blankets, groaning in pain.

He quirks an eyebrow, leaning over you and hovering his face a few inches from yours with wide eyes. "Babbyyy, what's wrong? Just tell meee."

You sigh, turning away from him. "I'm on my period."

His mouth forms an 'o' shape as he drapes his arm over your body and lays behind you, effectively spooning you. "I see…" he mumbles. "So… you're in pain."

"No shit dumbass."

He sighs. "When did you get it?"

"Today, the first day is always the worst."

"Ah, when did you get it for the first time?"

"I was eleven or twelve, why?" you question.

"Just wondering."

So you stayed there with your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you, his presence helping you cope. You were drifting off when he suddenly gasped.

"Y/N…." he whispered, turning you around to face him. He held your shoulders and stared at you with wide eyes.

"Baby? What's wrong?" you felt worried seeing his face like this.

He took a few deep breaths.

"I-I'm 23…" he whispered.

“Yeah..?" you countered, even more, confused now.

"Babe. I'm late."

"…for what?"

"I'm twelve years late! I was supposed to get my period twelve years ago! Do you know what this means?!"

You opened your mouth to scold him, but he clasped his hand over your mouth.

“Babe, we're pregnant!" he said, eyes sparkling. "I can't wait for us to raise our first child," he pretends to wipe a tear from his eye as he puts your hand on his stomach.

"Do you feel it kicking?"

You shoved his hand off of your mouth. "You dumb ass!" you throw the plushie at him, pulling him off the bed while he yelps.

"Babe- wait-I'm sorry it was a joke-!"

You slam the door on him, locking it behind his figure. Then, with a deep sigh, you return to your bed, curling up in a ball. You lay your head down to close your eyes and go to sleep when you hear your phone buzz.

dumbass <3

-Babbyyyyy immm sorrrryyy let me innnn

-I miss u

-pls

-I was just so excited abt our baby

- TT

You scoff at his messages and watch as more come flooding in.

dumbass <3

-u r making me sad

-come on pookie

-don't make daddy angy

-grrrr

"WONG KUN-HANG, DO NOT MAKE ME BLOCK YOUR NUMBER!" you scream at him through the door, sighing.

You lay on your back and stare at the ceiling. He could be such a pain, but you loved him. Even though he was such a stupid, stupid guy who took every opportunity to get on your nerves.

You hear a scraping at the door and over as a note slides through the bottom. In scribbled handwriting, it says, "I am sorry, really. Please let me in.", complete with an awful drawing of what you can only assume is him crying.

With a groan, you get up and open the door, staring at your boyfriend with a blank face.

He smiles wide and barges in, arms full of what he will refer to as "supplies."

"Okay baby, just lay down and nurse Hendery will take care of you!"

"You could have been a doctor, and yet you chose to be a nurse," you question, returning to bed and staring at him.

He presses a heating pack to your belly, making sure to be gentle with you.

"Don't underestimate the nurses of this world, Y/N, they're angels on earth and here you are disrespecting them." he wiped a piece of hair out of your face.

"Listen, listen, my sisters taught me how to care for a girl when she's enduring shark week. So I'm basically an expert." he uses his fingers to gently turn your chin to face him as he sits in bed next to you.

"You do realize I kicked you out just a few minutes ago, right?"

"Shhh," he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, but before you could reciprocate, he pressed a piece of chocolate against your lips, making you furrow your brows before biting.

"Good girl!" he teased, snuggling into your side, taking the remote, and turning on your favorite movie.

You didn't mind this; you were feeling better thanks to the heating pad and his snuggles. Not that you would admit it.

"I heard that getting head relieves period cramps," he suddenly said, chin high in the air as though he was proud to know this fact.

You just stared ahead in shock, not at all expecting that.

"Come on baby, let's try it!" he began quickly kissing your jawline, trailing up and nibbling at your ear.

You shuddered in response, a soft gasp leaving your lips as he trailed kisses down your neck, gently moving the blanket off your legs.

"Hendery, stop… the others are home, don't…." you whisper.

"What was that baby? Are you afraid I'll make you feel too good?" he said, smirking as he lowered his head between your legs, pulling at the hem of your shorts.

Though your body said yes, your mind knew the other members were home. Yet, there he was, smiling up at you.

The door creaking open made you both turn your heads toward the sound. There stood Ten, holding Louis. You can vaguely see what looks like a mortified Kun behind him, but he quickly retreats after seeing the two of you in such a lewd position.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" he asked calmly, looking between you two.

"Ye-"

"No, not at all." you gently push Hendery's head away with your knee.

"What's up?", you asked.

Ten walks in and sits down next to you, showing off the cat he is so proud of. "Look, I got him a hat!" he says, grinning as he cuddles into your side, Louis retreating into your lap.

"Ooh, we're watching a movie?" Ten asks, somehow making himself even more comfortable.

"No, my girlfriend and I are watching a movie."

Ten stares at the TV, "Right, and now your girlfriend, you and I are watching a movie.", he restates with a cheeky grin.

Hendery takes up his spot on your other side, petting Louis with a permanent frown. You should be leaning on him, not Ten; he's your boyfriend, him, Hendery!

You hear another meow and see Leon opening the door, jumping up and curling up in your frustrated boyfriend's lap as Ten coos at sight.

"This is not the kind of pussy I wanted.", Hendery groans, leaning his head back.

You and Ten shares a look before laughing at his frustration. You kiss his cheek, which he quickly redirects to his lips. The two of you spend a moment with your mouths moving against each other before Ten tells you two to get a room.

"We tried to!", Hendery says, swatting at the older boy.

BONUS

After a few hours, the two boys had fallen asleep, and you left the room to get a glass of water. You see the other members on the couch, playing a console game you didn't care to check on. As you remove the cup from the cabinet, you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

You turn to see Kun, whose ears have turned bright red.

"Hey!" you greet him.

He shifts awkwardly. "Listen, um, I saw you and Hendery earlier and… I just want to like make sure you know that you guys are staying safe and using protection."

You turn bright red and are rendered speechless.

"Especially if Ten is going to be joining you—"

You hear a gasp and watch Yangyang enter your room, finding the two sleeping boys.

Next thing you know, Hendery runs into the kitchen, half asleep but ready to fight, as he holds his fists up to Kun.

"Are you after my girl, Qian, huh?! Are you?!" he says, circling him and jumping around like a madman. "You pervert! Talking to my girlfriend about sex!"

Kun holds his hands up, looking at you for help. Meanwhile, Xiaojun and Winwin stare at the scene in shock as Ten takes a video of the scene in front of him, and Yangyang cackles.

You pull your boyfriend away, smacking him gently.

That video would end up in the hands of Johnny, who would send it to Mark, and the next thing you knew, Sungchan was texting you asking why Hendery was so mad.

God, those boys were nosy gossips.

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friendshipsbracelet · 2 months

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squip more like um kiss ;3; - kylie x simon fan fic

summary: a light fluffy fic about simon and kylies first few interactions and love confessions as well as first kisses ^_^ words: 3791 a03 link if u don't wanna read it on tumblr :3 notes: i haven't wrote in awhile...and i just wanted to have fun so that's why there is random emoticons :D

It had only been a few months since Kylie had gotten her SQUIP so far it gave her nothing but headaches, body aches, and more stress than ever about the thought of a supercomputer living in her head. She only got the thing to get better at games and a part of her deep down wanted someone to talk to. The moment she got so swept up, first she heard about it while on a gaming forum as someone was reporting someone for cheating and swore up and down it was a SQUIP-related matter. She couldn't help but ask about it…a SQUIP sounds like a misspelling or some new gaming term she didn't know about. She asked just to get nothing but one reply stating it's a weird computer pill that can help you do whatever which piqued her interest. If it's just a pill then why not probably a 24-hour thing and she couldn't help but try to find sellers to see if this thing was real even if that meant going to sketchy websites and paying a high price.

Her life was boring. This was the perfect thing to spice it up, it wouldn't hurt. Which she was wrong about. She was already nervous enough to buy a computer pill from the dark web but now the instructions said something about Mountain Dew. All of this was so random and weird. But she did it after a lot of hesitation in her empty dark room, nothing really happened, if anything the taste of Mountain Dew just lingered in her mouth and a wintergreen taste. Yucky :(...She was scared someone ripped her off with a tic tac.

She felt a sharp pain in her nerves, she couldn't help but yell and whine in pain as she fell to the floor, hearing random sounds and weird voices in her head. It went on for a good few minutes before stopping just to start up again and stop. She didn't want to get off her floor and was clinging to the legs of her desk with her life. She couldn't even process the voice but just knew he said something about accessing or something, she heard a robotic and nerdy-sounding voice of someone in her head and almost a blue shadowy figure in front of her which was very visibly glitching horribly.

“Kylie Mitchells..Welcome to your Super Intel Quantum Processor, your Squip.” said the random figure standing above her, she couldn't help but notice it was in her head.

She looked up and tried to readjust herself but everything hurt like her body just got hit with a hammer, she used her desk to help her up as she looked around. No one was there, fear struck her face as she said nothing before looking again, it was a bluish-teal figure standing before her. It was slightly taller and had a human silhouette but no facial features like a bad shadow puppet show. Her eyes went wide as she wasn't really informed on any of this..she just thought after the pill she would be magically good at everything.

“W-What?” She said quickly.

“I am your SQUIP.” It sounded sarcastic but just robotic.

“Are you real O_O…” She looked around it and debated sticking her hand in him, he looked like a weird hologram. She couldn't help her curiosity.

“Yes..? I look like nothing right now..because you haven't chosen who you wanted to have instructions from. I can speak and only appear to you in a telepathic way.” She didn't know what to pick, the ideas were endless, her head was still in alot of pain too.

“Why c-cant you pick!” She said in an annoyed tone but was just curious if he could think out of the box.

“That's not how that works really, unless you want me to be nothing.”

He had an angry tone to his voice as he sighed and disappeared once more. She got out a small pen in a little notebook beside her desk and started to draw and scribble. She wanted to humanize this voice, he sounded nerdy and was blue..he already sounded like a boy and he was a computer. She smiled at herself for having such a good idea as she got to work. What was the word again? She was gijinka-ing.. :3!

She just drew a nerd in the coolest clothes she could think of, he did look like a ghost so she made sure to add that. A total dweeb :B..She happily looked up to show off her creation but he was gone. She was freaked out before speaking out loud to see if he would say anything.

“I drew you ^_^! Is this good..? How do you turn into this? Should she say it out loud? I am not good at making descriptions..”. She waited for a reply till she heard some buzzing.

She thought about the design really hard in her head like what he said, she felt like her brain was gonna explode! She turned around in her little spinny chair to try to see if her weird little drawing would come to life already. It's not like this will be long term. She saw her design basically appear from thin air! Exciting :D!

She was in shock at it all and saw the hologram finally look a bit more noticeable. She was in awe about how spot on it was O_o.. He looked at his appearance and scoffed about how nerdy it was, fitting but it didn't make him feel as suave as usual. Usually, other users would choose something more fun…like a celebrity..or Keanu. He pouted a little but couldn't help but be a bit honored to have a custom appearance. He looked at her with distasteful and rude eyes as she stared back. He tried his best to stay a bit smug and had a small smirk. She giggled at his braces and everything, even if she was freaked out he looked like someone she would see in class or in a fun show. He explained basically everything he could about how he's in her mind, she can only see him blah blah etc.

Over these months, it has been kind of nice to have a SQUIP. It was someone to keep Kylie company..the shock wasn't nice and he would constantly get frustrated with her at first but he seemed used to her mistakes by now.

If anything he kept talking about the idea of her getting popular everytime friends were mentioned, now anytime she's at the mall he would point to dresses and makeup while constantly talking about how great everything would be if she gave it a shot and how it perfectly connects with her plans to make more friends. She would just sigh and roll her eyes a little at it.

She had gotten used to the SQUIP minus the times when he would randomly take control of her. At first she would talk out loud a lot to him and look crazy since she's talking to air basically but she had been getting better, he had been looking less like a hologram too. More human, more of like a ghost that would float over her shoulder all the time or that's how it felt. She was happy to have a friend and to introduce him to the idea of being himself and having friends even if he scoffed. He enjoyed her somewhat. He had gotten used to his appearance, it was..different but it felt like him. Over these months he got a name too, she was always picked at calling him just SQUIP..it felt rude. He came up with the name SIMON as a fun solution..SUPER INTEL MACHINE ONLINE NETWORK..Simon for short. He liked it if he was being honest it made him feel important.

He felt so..real whenever she mentioned his lisp and beauty marks, it made him feel human like he had a real connection and wasn't just there to help her with a goal.

He had gotten used to her weird nature and enjoyed indulging in her more geeky interests with her as he understood them. He had a small liking towards her but buried it deep down as it was just her trying to trick him, he couldn't help but smile when helping her with things and guiding her hand through it all. He couldn't think about it too much without feeling like he was glitching or overthinking, he bit his tongue when thinking about it for too long.

She was doing the usual of sitting on her bed, doing whatever on her little..console..DS...He always noticed her playing her little puppy game. Her small string lights illuminated the room and gave a warm feeling as the night grew closer. Her room always gave off a comfortable feeling he enjoyed, maybe it helped her after a long day of school. He didn't pay any mind since it was the one game she didn't need help on or didn’t beg him to watch, he would rather her be studying or planning to be more popular but this was okay.

He didn't do much other than watch her or just put himself on her screen and sit in the corner. She liked it and always poked at him and nudged him with the small stylus :3. She sat it down and got off her bed with a big stretch and yawned as she felt like she had been sitting there for hours.

“Can we do something different..? Like I don't know…Plan...I have an infinite database just for you to usthe..” He said in an annoyed manner as he pulled himself up from her little DS and sat on her bed impatiently. She sighed and said nothing but it's not like she can hide her thoughts. “I know…I just…I don't know what to ask Si-Si..D; ” She giggled and smiled at her nickname for him.

Kylie turned around and sat back on her bed as she saw the familiar annoyed face. He scoffed at the nickname and pushed up his glasses. He laid back on her cozy plush-filled bed, she crawled over to him a little and grabbed her DS. She flipped it back open and stuck her tongue out while playing to focus on her little puppies. Her stylus clicked and clacked on the screen as he grew annoyed -_-...

He could make his own DS appear and he does from time to time but he wants something different, something more. He brushed his hair and pushed up his glasses again as he watched over her shoulder. He felt more nervous than usual. He bit his tongue and his glasses and poked the top of her hair. He gently zapped her head with a sheepish grin as he heard her squeal. “Simon!” She turned her head back a little and saw his grin as her cheeks flushed seeing him just smile at her but was pretty annoyed.

She realized their proximity and leaned a bit more forward and showed off her strange posture. Usually, when she did things like this, he would shock her. Popular girls don't have bad posture.

He rolled his eyes and got closer to her, following her movements as she felt his sort of computer-whirring-like breath stir next to her face. She noticed how close he was being and this strange behavior, usually she would be fine but it felt different. He couldn’t fully touch her really due to his ghostly appearance but it could still happen, the most he could do was simulate the feelings at the time. He would try his best to simulate some amount of closeness to her as gently went across her nervous system and down to her sides, giving it some kind of gentle squeeze like a hug and even tried squeezing her with his arms. He was proud of himself for doing such a thing. He felt her breath hitch slightly.

“W-Whats been up with you today..?” She asked as she turned to look at him in his rarely appearing eyes and felt the touch of his almost fake hands disappear.

“What's been up with..you!..” He deflected and pouted as his eyebrows furrowed.

“Wha! Ok well...hm..a question..question..:p…I dunno Simon…what's the timeline where you don't act so weird and flip floppy..” She smiled and giggled at her joke as she watched his face get flushed.

He frowned and rolled his head back. She leaned in close while asking the question as she scooted closer to the bed. He tried leaning back and acting calm as he rolled his eyes. “But um..really...what's up with you Si-Si? Need an update?..Do you guys need those..?” She felt bad if that was the case.

Kylie looked at him with big eyes and leaned in close to examine his face. He bit the inside of his cheek and blushed immensely as he felt like his glitching got worse, he muttered and stuttered as he felt himself lean in. He was trying his best to think of so many possibilities and times and calculations and just whatever, he felt like he was going short circuit and then he had to think about human error. He didn’t know how this would even work. How would he simulate something like this sort of a..thing? She looked at him and examined his face as she felt herself get closer and crawl between his legs, she tilted her head up to examine him further, wanting to see if really something was wrong with him.

“Nothing is wrong with me. I just want you to practice and focus on the goal.” He scoffed as he looked down on her and sat up a bit more.

“Later..pretty please..we have been doing stuff all week..!! :(..I just wanna relax with you..”

“I could always just give you a shot of serotonin, it's really easy.” He said with a proud tone.

“That's not what I mean!” She tugged on his hoodie strings with a whine as he looked up at him. “I like hanging out with you Simon, you know that right? You're not just my thing in my head..” She smiled as she got a bit closer to him. He paused and tried to format what he was going to say.

He didn't know what to say. The bubbling feeling came back to him as he watched her spill out her feelings rather than him having to search for him. He didn't know what to even say.

He felt her hand gently graze his as a tingle went up his own spine. He tried his best to look away as the words stuck to his throat.

“I do like you Simon..” She said softly as she buried her face in her hair. He stuttered and kept trying to just make it all make sense.

He had to idea what to say. He's not used to having so much free will with his emotions. This was so sudden and he was so clouded by other goals the SQUIP didn't even notice this crush bubble up in her head. He monitored her closely, watching her heart beat quickly and her mind race, so help him if he looks at her thoughts which would be a jumbled loud mess. His breathing grew quick and hitched as he bit down his tongue.

“I like you too..” He tried his best not to stutter or make weird movements, the entire point of SQUIPS was to correct mistakes not make them in front of its user.

He quickly leaned in and took a chance and the feeling of his lips touching hers as he gently pecked them or tried to replicate the feeling of being kissed by messing with her nerves.

His breathing got quick and he felt the soft hum and whirr like an overworked computer. She was in shock at this sudden affection and kiss as this was all so new but it was nice. She smiled and happily laughed at the kiss. She liked how it felt though it felt real enough, her face grew pink and her mouth was slightly open in shock.

She smiled happily before pecking his lips again or at least trying to, it was a bit hard due to his form. He nervously smiled and enjoyed the small kisses from her as he simulated the feeling of his fingers detangling through her hair and couldn't help but quiver about how close they were as she was practically against his chest in a way. He was happy this feeling was slowly being embraced really, it felt so new like he was controlled in a new way. She giggled nervously throughout the small kissies, he tasted like the color blue and he was cold. She didn't even care anymore and just let her confidence take control, which usually was...Simon..funny :-).

He bit the bullet and leaned into her for a more serious kiss as he tried his best to practice these weird humanlike movements and feelings, it was weird to finally do it. It felt even weirder to simulate the feeling on her lips and mouth other than kissing her to just go with it further. He almost had the urge to take control of her to make this process easier but he wouldn’t dare and rather monitored her brain to see if she enjoyed this or not. He could practically feel himself glitch in either enjoyment or nervousness as he smiled and was happy to know she somewhat liked this. She felt the strange passion in his kiss and tried her best to not have such sloppy movements as she tried doing it back, it was her first time doing something like this. She put her hands on his knees so she could sit herself up a bit more and felt strange kissing the little hologram. The more they kept going it started feeling real. He wanted to keep it going forever and enjoyed the warm sensation before she suddenly pulled away to catch her breath, which he forgot she had.

She caught her breath and pushed up her glasses as she looked down and away, in this very weak moment. She readjusted herself on her bed before looking up at him, waiting for him to explain himself. He stared back and could feel himself buffering at an answer. “I just wanted to see if you were a good kisser..popular girls need to kiss well! It was a test…!” He grinned sheepishly as he grew more quiet at his weak reply and could practically hear the stuttering and glitches in his voice and put on his usual annoyed face.

“I-I..” She tried carefully to pick her words but she looked at him right in the eyes as he pushed up his glasses. “Sureee…Simon” She gently touched his cheek and pecked him on the nose of his glasses. It felt like her lips got a bit of a shock. She liked this new revelation of what the two of them could do. She smiled at him and couldn’t help but just stare at his flustered face. She tugged his hoodie strings as she just laughed and turned back around. Kylie laid her back on him as he tried his best not to just disappear. She opened her little game as she pulled her knees to her chest to finally get back to what she was doing even if she was a bit shaken by what just happened. She just ignored the nervous feeling and was happy Simon might like her. He confirmed it but she still didn't believe it.

He tried to make himself seem as real and close as possible to her. He leaned down and laid his head in the crook of her neck and nuzzled his face in her hair. He was getting used to just flaring up certain parts of her so he felt close and made sure her sensors could feel him. She felt the feeling of just him stirring close to her neck and ear as she tapped away on her little device, trying not to freak out but he was in her head, he could tell.

He smiled at her panicking and tried her best to keep her calm, it was just routine sometimes to calm her nervous system. Simon quickly monitored her heartbeat and brain activity for any positive signs of calming down. He couldn’t do much touching and his words were strange but he tried to run his hands through her hair as he detangled it with her fingers. He watched her lean back some more and felt her heartbeat slow down as she calmed herself. He liked it when he was able to do his job for once.

Even though he could do it without leaving he preferred to at least help her not get freaked out by the sensations. He ran his finger on her back and lightly shocked her to correct her posture and saw her immediately sit up as she murmured something. She flipped over and stretched again her arms and groaned for sitting so long before curling into him again, with her head gently put under his chin.

“Simon, did you understand what I said...y-you um know..I like you” The words coated her throat as she got choked up in her own words.

Simon got flushed hearing the words again and nodded. “Of course I understand. I reciprocate the same feelings. ” He said in a more sassy manner. “Also I live in your head…and I just generally know you.” He smirked and flashed his blue braces at her and his attempt at a joke but it was serious.

“Can I pretty please call my squipfriend now? Boyfie? Boyfieee ^_^” She said excitedly with a small laughter afterwards and happily kicked her feet. It was silly to think about.

He couldn't help but groan a little and rolled his eyes. “As Long as you still listen to my instructions…” He sighed but loved the idea of being called a boyfriend in a way or the thought of them being together. It interrupted his plan to make her popular as popular girls have boyfriends and he's not really enrolled in the school but it counted to him. She went back to her game and pulled it up to her face as she blushed thinking about a supercomputer as her boyfriend. She couldn't help but smile at how smart he was and kind and everything all above! She remembered he could hear her thoughts but didn't care, she loved her new boyfriend dearly.

#writing #ok to reblog :3 #ummm if u read it u get surprised doodle idk #💾

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