When he started I actually thought I got punched it was so cool

Making New Rules

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: After Papa Stark finds his daughter and Peter getting steamy, he decides they need to settle some rules if those two are going to become an item.

word count:1798

Part 1  Part 2



Originally posted by tonybeifong

To say dinner was awkward was an understatement. Neither of them knew what to say or do, especially since every time the teenagers glanced at each other Tony sent glares in Peter’s direction.

Y/n couldn’t believe her father. Hadn’t he been the one that suggested they dated each other? Sure, he had find them making out in her bed, but still! She glared back at him, trying to make him drop his attitude.

Everyone could feel the tension in the air, especially with the silence that filled the room. Peter wanted to make some conversation, but he knew if he did Mr. Stark might throw the knife at him. He felt really bad about dating his daughter, the one girl that was off limits, but still, he couldn’t believe the girl he had had a crush for over a year actually liked him back. It felt too good to be real.

Everyone ate their food lost in their own thoughts, trying their hardest to avoid what they knew was next. Y/n knew her father would have a “friendly” conversation with Peter, which would scare him off, just like every other boyfriend of hers. The difference was she would actually care if this one went away.

They spend the longest hour eating, but after it was obvious what they were doing Tony finally stand up, dragging the chair loudly, making both teenagers look at him.

“Well Peter, if you’re done pretending to eat, I’ll like to have a word or two with you, in private”

Peter stared at Y/n and back at her father. He knew she couldn’t save him from this one. He had to go with him and hope for the best. He stood up and followed as Mr. Stark went into his office, not waiting for him. He glanced back at the girl one more time, and just the sight of her giving him an apologetic and worried look was enough for him to gather some courage and finally step into the room.

He closed the door behind him and looked around the office, until he finally spotted the man, looking through the big glass wall, staring at the city under them. He approached him slowly, remaining a couple feet behind him.

“Peter, you see the city, all the people in it? How many people do you think there are in New York? How many girls? There has to be at least a dozen girls in it, different sizes, shapes, ages”

“I uhh- I guess there are many”

“Then-” Tony turned around and faced him, getting a step closer to him “Why did you choose the one girl I told you not to?”

Before Peter could even open his mouth Mr. Stark was talking again, not caring about his actual answer.

“My girl is the most important thing for me! If all you wanted was a pretty face to fool around with I can introduce you to someone! Obviously not prettier than Y/n, cause she has like, really good genes- but still”

Peter could not believe what he was listening to. It had taken him a whole year for Y/n to notice him, he wasn’t about to give up on the girl of his dreams.

“It’s not like that! I- I don’t- I don’t want anybody else!”

“Why not?!”

“Because she is Y/n! I mean- her looks are a bonus but I want to get to know her, I want her to fall for me and make her happy. She is not only intelligent but also the kindest person, and she is also very funny and I just-really like her”

“How would you know? It’s not like you ever talked to her before!”

“I didn’t knew I had a chance until yesterday! If I weren’t spider man she would’ve rejected me!”

As soon as the words left Peter mouth he realised it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it was already too late. The man in front of him got an upset and angry look that suggested he wanted to murder him in the spot.

“If you really think that way about my daughter then you shouldn’t date her”

Peter knew it was wrong to even think about it, but honestly, why would the perfect girl even glance in his direction if it weren’t for the suit? Also, she just made a move once she realised who he was.

“Why else would she even think of dating me? I’m nothing compared to her”

Tony sighed as he took a seat in the couch in his office, patting the seat beside him for Peter. The boy went and sat next to him, as the man spoke.

“Lemme tell you a story about Y/n’s first day at school Peter. I thought that maybe homeschooling wasn’t the best option for her, so hey, why not send her to a public school? Get her to have the whole high school experience right? However after she arrived from her first day I knew I  was fucked. Peter, why do you think Y/n is so popular?”

“Because of you?”

“Exactly! So like at first it was ok, she had a ton of friends, but all of the sudden all the boys wanted to get into her pants, apparently you included- But she never payed attention to none, until that first day she arrived home from school and started rambling about a familiar sounding boy-

“She said she had seen the cutest boy in her Chemistry class. Apparently not only was he “cute” but also super smart.”

Tony proceed to try to imitate his daughter puppy eyes and her voice, making a lovesick grin while he continued.

“I’m telling you dad! He has the softest brown eyes! And curly hair and he is just- the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen. He is also super smart and- has like all the answers for everything! He is in the decathlon team and seriously dad, he might be smarter than your geniuses in the lab down here!”

“Everyday she would come home with one of her stories about cute brown eyes boy, until she finally discovered your name and told me”

Peter had never felt so confused. Did Y/n liked him since so long ago? Why hadn’t she said anything? They had both been pinning when they could have actually been together?

“So, you see why I’m not into the idea of you guys dating? You’re the one boy that might actually hurt my daughter, or take her away from me”

“I would never do either of those things. I really like her and I know- I know how it feels to lose people, I would never do that to you”

Tony finally loosen up to his words and gave him a side hug, while ruffling his hair.

“I know you mean no harm kid, but she is the most important person in my life, we gotta settle some rules if you really want to be with her”

“I do, and I promise I’ll try to follow them this time”

“So, first rule, no touching kid, even though you already broke that rule, try to keep your hands to yourself”

Peter knew that rule was going to be broken many times, and Tony seemed to realise as he pushed the boy and punched his arm.

“You could at least try! Okay new rule, no touching in front of me, and once the time is right we’ll have a safe talk- but that doesn’t mean I give you permission to bone my daughter!”

“What? No- Of course not! Okay so, second rule?”

“Your job is to protect her, if I’m not around then it’s your duty! Don’t let people find out about her and you being spider man! Don’t let your enemies get close to her or I swear I’ll kill you myself kiddo”

“I won’t let them anywhere near her I promise”

“Last but not least you have to maker her the happiest girl okay? She comes home crying because of you and I’ll make sure you pay for it Peter, and I mean it- especially if you break my rules. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my daughter”

“I know Mr. Stark- and also- I- I wanted to apologize for before. I shouldn’t have betrayed your trust, especially after everything you’ve done for me and-”

“I’m sorry Peter, I overreacted- and to be honest, I’ll rather have her date you than any other asshole. Anyways, We should go met Y/n, she must think I already killed you”

With these final words Tony got up and opened the door as he called for Y/n to come in, even though she was probably pretending not to spy on them.

“Everything’s settled then, I have a meeting to go, you guys finish your homework. Goodbye honey”

He kissed Y/n’s forehead, ignoring the surprised look she gave him and stepped out, leaving them alone.

“God what did he told you? I thought I’d heard some yelling in here”

The girl came next to him and cuddled beside him as he hugged her from the side.

“He was actually very cool about it, he even told me some interesting stuff”

She looked at him while Peter played with her hair, a knowing grin in his face.

“What did he told you?”

“Just stuff”

“Tell meeee!”

“He might’ve told me the story about the soft brown eyed boy”

She blushed and hide her face in his chest, as he laughed at her reaction.

“I can’t believe you had a crush on me!”

“Pete stop it! We’re dating!”

“Still! I still can’t believe it tho, we could’ve been dating for almost a year!

“Well, it’s your fault we had to wait all this time! You should’ve asked me out!”

“Well, you never talked to me either! How was I supposed to know you liked awkward dorky Peter?”

“That’s because I always thought you saw me as a mean superficial bimbo girl! I never thought you’d go out with someone like that! At least not when there were a dozen of girls better than me!”

Peter looked down at the girl in his arms and removed the hair from her face, cupping her cheek and bringing her close to him. She looked perfect next to him, looking expectantly at him, trying to get closer before he talked again.

“You’re the only girl for me”

He finally pulled her in for a kiss. This one felt different. It was sweet and slow, making his heart full with happiness. He knew next to her he didn’t had to worry about anything else, he had all the time in the world by her side.

“I guess the wait was worth it”

“It totally was”

People that requested to be tagged in this particular story: @mellowmew20 , @harrysbbby , @twdpansy, @raindancer2004 , @redrebelgaming , @herbeautifuldarkness , @trinityjadec , @aimeepeeps , @fandomingforever , @sylviestars , @julesimba , @netzoflix , @deanwinchesterisnotonfire , @settlebackeasy , @eabha-no , @anthonystoner , @this-is-not-an-inspirational-url , @llamazarecoolaf , @icat8 , @marveldirewolf , @pigwidgexn , @thephandomunites , @goawayimreadingbeach ,

Permanent tag list: @spideyydarling , @geekyyears9 , @slut-for-fandoms , @letsgoflyawaybirdie , @illegallyholland , @littlenerdgirl16 , @trinityjadec , @cabinetxbattles , @underoosqueen @isucaf @themusicorthemisery , @nonewmessage , @peterparkyourassonme @nwmtagsb

If you want to be added or removed from my permanent tag list let me know!

Inspired by today’s eclipse and for @sterekwritingroom‘s flash event.


The first group of weres pass through Beacon Hills on a Thursday. Stiles probably wouldn’t notice except that he’s spent the past year and a half hanging out almost exclusively with supernatural beings and that… well, ok, these guys aren’t exactly subtle. They tilt their heads almost in sync as he passes by them –– heading in to pay cash at the gas station while they pile back into their packed SUV. Noses flare, stances shift, and Stiles has about point five seconds to plan a bolt back to the Jeep before one of them’s announcing “Don’t trouble your Alpha; we’re just passing north for the event.” And then they’re back in the SUV and gone.

So… yeah, not to diminish Stiles’ awesome deductive skills here but… not subtle.

The second sighting happens before school on Friday, when Stiles ducks into the Dunkin’ Donuts for some much needed coffee and practically trips over a trio of sugar-high toddlers. One of them, wearing what looks like a home-painted t-shirt, decorated with a slightly uneven yellow circle, is midway through whining “Momma, we’re gonna miss the––“ when she stops in her tracks to stare up at him.

Stiles blinks down at her, the door perched against his elbow.

“Say ‘scuse me,” the boy next to her murmurs. It’s too early for this, brain crawling the sludge-slow of non-coffee through his system, and Stiles isn’t sure which of them he’s talking to.

“Excuse me,” he says and all three immediately shuffle, staring wide enough it makes Stiles’ eyes ache for them. He starts past, scrubbing a hand across his jaw self-consciously, wondering if he’d missed sleep drool or a sock in his hair or something on his mad rush out the door but, two steps past, the youngest kid snuffles and speaks up, soft: “Are you gonna come see the moon with us?”

It takes another step for Stiles to register that she’s talking to him, but by the time he blinks back the boy’s already tutting at her.

“No Lucy. He’ll go with his own pack.”

The little girl’s mouth opens in a wide, understanding O, while her older sister tugs proudly on her yellow circle shirt. It’s painted a messy black in the middle, inside the bright golden edge, and Stiles kind of forgets coffee for a minute in the face of actual werewolf children and then there’s a woman stepping up behind them, coffee and a box of munchkins in hand, dropping a fond hand to ruffle the boy’s hair as she gives Stiles an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, they’ve never been through another pack’s territory before. We’ve been driving since Arizona –– long trip for the little ones. But I couldn’t miss the chance for them to experience this. Best sighting until totality in 2017!”

“I’ll be ten,” says the boy, in the tone of one who’s done the math very carefully a dozen times over.

Stiles nods, a little lost because werewolf toddlers, and manages “well that’s… good.”

“I’m two,” the youngest puts in proudly, vaguely missing the thread of the conversation but eager to take part, and Stiles smiles back, wishing he had a little more coffee in his system because it’s not like he’s oblivious about what’s going on in the world this weekend, but he’s starting to feel a little dense for not connecting all kinds of dots sooner.

Then again, there’s another person who probably could’ve connected them for him.

“They don’t know how lucky they are,” the woman adds, beaming down. “I had to wait years for my first one and I’ll never forget the experience. Of course, you won’t feel it the same way as us,” her tone going apologetic, “but I’m sure your pack can’t wait to take part.”

And then she’s ushering the kids out the door with promises of donuts in the car, and Stiles is tugging out his phone, pulling up Derek Hale’s number.


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No one knew Eddie Kaspbrak better than himself. Even his closest friends didn’t know who he really was, who he wanted to be, who he wished he could be. But then Richie Tozier came along, with his wild hair, passion for film making, and annoying talent of making Eddie’s heart beat faster than normal, and he finally found someone who knew him better than he knew himself. And that scared the shit out of him.

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And I need you to be cool Uncle Ace! Okay?!

Prompt; Law accidentally gets Fem-Luffy pregnant; everyone’s reaction.

In an AU where nothing hurts and Ace got to live.

Law’s a doctor.

More importantly than that though, Law is a paranoid little bastard.

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(Not requested by anyone, I just had this really funny idea.)

You watched your sister snuggle up next to her boyfriend in class. Ironically you were watching Dracula, which had made both Bella and Edward chuckle quietly as the teacher announced the movie.

I wonder, what would happen if I sprayed you with Holy water? You thought to Edward, knowing the mind reader would hear you.

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*casually dumps a shitton of dear evan hansen/be more chill crossover headcanons*

EDIT: Now with a part 2!

NOTE: All of these headcanons take place within the crossover universe but not all of them feature characters from both musicals.  Some just involve DEH characters and some just involve BMC characters.  I JUST WANTED TO HEADCANON STUFF ABOUT THEM OKAY (also this is a hella long post so under the readmore it goes)

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More Ace Dex

Ace Dex combating the casual aphobia that we all deal with at some point.  

“Dude, you’ve never done the nasty?”

Dex rolled his eyes, hard. Whiskey’s tone was just this side of shocked, and it made Dex was to take back the fact that he had said anything at all. It wasn’t exactly that he expected the team to be more understanding than other people, but he hoped that was the case, anyway.

On top of that, Whiskey managed to catch the attention of Ransom and Holster, who were walking past, heads close together.

“Wait, what’s this about someone never smuggling the ol’ bone?”

Ransom gave Holster a critical look, then grinned in that way that only someone on the wrong side of tipsy can. “Playing hide the sausage.”

Holster countered quickly with, “Making the beast with two backs.”

“Assault with a friendly weapon.”

“Entangling the lower beards.”

“Joint sessions of Congress.”

Holster held out a fist. “Bro, pound it out for that one.”

With a solemn nod, Ransom offered tapped his fist to Holster’s. Dex hoped that their (truly awful) back and forth would distract them from what was going on, but instead they plopped onto the couch to join in the conversation. Well, they pushed their way onto the couch, which was already too full, Ransom on one end and Holster in the middle of Nursey and Dex.

Whiskey pointed in Dex’s general direction, and told the captains, “Apparently, Dex has never had sex.”

Holster threw a big arm around Dex’s shoulder and turned toward him. Dex could smell tub juice wafting off of him. “Dex! My dude. My man. Bro. We gotta resolve this.”

“It’s not a problem. There’s nothing to resolve.”

On the other side of Holster, Dex could see his boyfriend’s concerned face. Nursey knew that Dex’s sexuality (well, his asexuality) was still a touchy subject. On the best of days, it was hard for him to have a conversation about. On the days after a game loss and with a group of drunken and less than subtle frat boys, well…. Chances were that it wasn’t going to go well.

“No, but Dex. Dexy. Dex. Sex is so good. Tell ‘im, Rans, tell him about… Shit, what’s a good one for Dex? Crab fishing in the dead sea.”

Dex scrunched up his face. “Dude, that’s fucking gross. And no, whatever fucking euphemism you use, the answer is no.”

On the other side of Holster, Nursey stood up and held a hand out to Dex, and yeah, that sounded like a better idea than having a discussion about life choices with a very drunk Holster. Dex pushed off the couch with a solid fist to Holster’s thigh, maybe a little harder than strictly necessary. He followed Nursey under the caution tape and up the stairs to Chowder’s room.

They spent the rest of the not-kegster (because apparently it could only be a kegster if they won the game) hiding out, watching Brooklyn-99. Dex could feel Nursey sending him concerned looks, but he ignored them. They fell asleep together, cuddling on the thin mattress.

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So a few days ago Ponpox, Earth’s greatest treasure, suggested a certain scenario starring Young Mic and Aizawa.

Obviously this was the greatest thing I’ve ever heard because I strongly feel that when they met both Mic and Aizawa thought the other was just the coolest? Like, obviously Aizawa has this whole “cool loner” vibe going on, which would impress Mic because he will literally die if he goes 20 minutes without attention. BUT what Mic doesn’t realize is that beneath the aloof exterior Aizawa is a socially awkward baby penguin who thinks Mic is just the best? Which he could never say. But Mic is super smart, has a super powerful quirk, a Look™ - it’s intimidating. 

AND IT GETS BETTER because you’d think after they got to know each other a little they’d be like “oh it’s fine he’s actually a giant nerd like me” but NO the more time goes by the COOLER they think the other one is?? Like, Mic invites Aizawa to sleep over and he’s like “sure but I get up at 4:30 to train every morning just fyi” Aizawa is embarrassed about this because 1) ugh he needs so much training to be competitive with his classmates and 2) why did he even mention it why can’t he just have a sleepover like a normal person one time god he has no control over his words when Mic is around. But Mic is just impressed?? That Aizawa is so committed to his goals and works super hard?? No wonder he’s always so tired, Mic is going to start bringing him healthy, protein-based snacks for after training.

And the same goes for Mic, because Aizawa actually does come over and Mic is like “this is it, he’s going to see all the embarrassing shit in my room and find out what a nerd I am” but Aizawa loves it?? Like, Mic has so many varied interests and hobbies and he knows so much about EVERYTHING. Aizawa asks a question about some rock on a shelf and Mic goes on for 10 minutes about volcanic activity and fossils but he’s SO ANIMATED that he makes it interesting and Aizawa is like “oh no he’s so smart what do I say how do I answer this” and all he can reply with is “cool.” And of course Mic can play instruments and he has books in English lying around and Aizawa is mentally like “what am I bringing to the table here? Punching really hard?”

So when Mic says Aizawa is “The COOLEST person I know” it’s a watershed moment for him. Aizawa tells himself like “Okay self, we’re clearly doing something right and we’re not going to blow it. If this is what he’s into, we are going to learn to punch SO FUCKING HARD.” And now he can run across telephone wires. 

But Mic is panicking because there are a lot of ways to interpret “why do you always want to hang out with me” and it wouldn’t occur to him that Aizawa would pick the self-deprecating one because why would he ever? So he follows up with something like “you like hanging out with me too, right??” And Aizawa is like what a ridiculous question who wouldn’t?? But what he says is “yeah.” Which gives Mic nothing to go on. So every time Aizawa seems impressed with something like English help or his music Mic leans into it really hard, and now he’s the head of the English department at a top high school and has an award-winning radio show.

But that’s a ways in the future! In the MEANTIME what happens is that they both go All In on their friendship. Mic starts making sure Aizawa eats more than energy jelly and candy by bringing him healthy snacks and bentos. Aizawa loves it when Mic brings him food it’s his FAVORITE THING but he totally plays it cool. So Mic will be like “Look I brought you lunch and you have to eat it because I cut the carrots up into little star shapes!! :DDD” And Aizawa is like I guess if you insist but inside he’s crying with happiness and wondering what he did to deserve a friend like Mic.

As for Mic he is the KING of hobbies, he loves learning stuff like instruments and languages. He’ll be like “hmm I need drums for a project I’m working on so I guess I’ll just learn! How hard can it be!” Side note that is how Mic falls into EVERYTHING, even when Aizawa is like “probably very hard.” Mic never listens. BUT one thing he isn’t great at is sports! Hero training is one thing but give this guy a soccer ball and you’re basically putting everyone’s life in jeopardy. But he still loves playing and everyone wants him on their team anyway because if they take Mic, they get Aizawa, who’s an absolute Monster on the field. Mic is his biggest cheerleader. Aizawa will walk off the field after decimating the other team and not even be sweating and Mic is always that was amazing!! and Aizawa will be like “what was? Did I miss it while I was doing Sports for u?” 

But as adorable as it is that they each think the other is fucking GREAT it would absolutely throw a wrench in the whole romance situation later. It’s a classic Mutual Pining situation with both of them sighing longingly like “I love him so much he’s too good for me.” They end up spending all their free time together thinking I love you!! really hard and not fucking getting with the program. Like, Aizawa would literally jump off a building to catch a falling Mic and save them with his binding cloth and Mic would be like “what a great friend???” And Mic could be like “So I noticed you’re living in a sleeping bag at your hero agency, have you considered moving into my apartment? Haha, we can share my bed!” And Aizawa would be like “he’s too nice for his own good but definitely yes.”

It would get worse before it got better. Like Mic would be pulling an all-nighter for one of his million jobs and just absent-mindedly kiss Aizawa on the cheek when he brings him a cup of coffee. And Aizawa would be fine with it like “Nice I guess that’s what it would be like if he really liked me” but Mic would be mentally shrieking as all his internal organs melt because did he just do that? did he? For real?? 

AND THIS IS WHERE THE FUN BEGINS because while Mic is silently losing his shit Aizawa would just like… go on with his day (while literally glowing with happiness, also internally) and Mic would be like… ‘huh. I guess he doesn’t mind?? Can I do it again??’ And then it would become another one of their Things. Like when they wake up in the morning or when Aizawa randomly collapses on Mic to take a nap (as one does) Mic would just fucking go for it and give him a peck on the cheek or the top of the head. Just when they’re alone though, because their friends already torment them enough. Aizawa fucking loves it and sort of positions himself so that it can happen more. Subtly. (Not subtly) 

They slip up in the teacher’s lounge one day as Mic is heading out to a class and just leans over Aizawa like “bye babe” and plants one on him. And Midnight is just “every time I think these two have reached the rock bottom of idiocy, they grab a shovel and excavate further” She is 100% over it after so many years and just blatantly refers to them as husbands, which they both pretend to be annoyed by but secretly love. Aizawa actually has a half-formed plan to suggest they get married for medical benefits, and Mic already knows exactly what ring he would get Aizawa and also their wedding theme. 

Now imagine they actually do get “platonic” married for tax purposes (this would be a city hall wedding, because it’s just bros being bros, getting married for perfectly legitimate financial reasons. NBD or anything) and they still don’t Know?? Neither of them know?? Until finally one day they’re fighting a villain and Aizawa gets stabbed and thinks he’s dying and is like “Welp, I guess this is a good time to unburden my soul to my childhood friend/love of my life/husband” so he’s like “oh btw Hizashi I’m in love with you, just FYI”

BUT HE IS SAVED and he wakes up like “oh no I lived this wasn’t the plan!!” That would be a pretty tough day for Mic because he would be SO HAPPY but also SO SCARED and also SO MAD because Aizawa was technically stabbed and of course Aizawa just gets to sleep through all the excitement like always. And he wouldn’t have anything to do while Aizawa was unconscious except obsessively replay every moment of their relationship with this new information in mind and be like “Oh. Ohhhhhhh. Wow we should NOT be teaching the nation’s youth.”

And Aizawa wakes up literally cringing because he’d been counting on the sweet oblivion of death to save him but like always his life is a trial. And Mic’s first words are probably “we’re redoing the wedding and you have to wear a tux. Also I’m in love with you too, F-Y-FUCKING-I.” So all in all the day was kind of a mixed bag.

So Mic had a bad day but it’s all worth it in the end because WOW Aizawa loves him and Aizawa is so fucking pumped because Mic loves him back, who knew (everyone) and he goes through a period where he just… smiles?? And Mic will ask him to do something and he goes along with it even more than usual like “sure, anything you want, wow, you love me, amazing” and that’s how Mic gets his dream wedding so it’s a win for everyone. 

In-between || [pt. 1]

The world was turning upside down, Derry Maine had a killer clown on the loose and it was you and your friend’s self-assigned job to kill it.

A crossover series of It and Stranger Things x reader

Characters: Reader, the losers club


Word count: 1193

Warning: jealousy  

A/n: let me know if you want to be tagged, next part will introduce the Stranger Things crossover; pairing TBA 

Part 2

Originally posted by kingkaspbrak

You stood in a line overlooking the quarry along with Eddie, Bill, Ben, Stan and Richie. You laughed as Richie and Eddie fought over whose loogie won, still in your jeans and shirt, unlike the boys who were now in their tighty whities. Whenever they went swimming you usually stayed on the rock and watched them, after all you couldn’t afford a new swimsuit anyways.

Everyone’s head turned when Beverly Marsh showed up. “I’ll go.” She slid out of her dress, “sissies” she smiled and ran past the edge, leaping into the water below “What the fuck?!” Richie yelled. She hit the water with a large splash, “Holy shit! We just got shown up by a girl?” Richie asked, you coughed. “Oh, I’m sorry, a real girl.” You frowned and punched him on the arm. “Ouch!” He yelped. “Do we have to do that now?” Stan asked taking a step back. “Yes.” Eddie said with dread in his eyes. “Come on!” Beverly yelled from below, “Oh shit.” Stan whispered, He was not loving this idea.

One by one they jumped into the clear lake. You sat down on a rock near the edge so you could still see them, pouting by yourself. They all were so taken aback by Beverly, why didn’t they think of you like that? As a ‘real girl’.

You went over to the pile of clothes and stripped out of your pants and shirt, silently thanking yourself for wearing nice underwear. You went to the edge and looked down at the laughing group below you. “What the fuck am I doing?” You mumbled before plugging your nose and taking a single hop over the edge.

You felt the water engulf your body. Chills running up through you. When you came up you wiped the water from your eyes, opening them to find the boys with shock written on their features. “Holy shit.” Eddie whispered, Stan and Richie elbowed him at the same time earning a groan. “You c-came in?” Bill questioned, obviously surprised. You shrugged, “It was hot up there.” “Yeah but you never come in.” Richie swam closer to you. “Well. Things change.”

You were happy you had finally decided to join them after years of refusing. You played chicken against Bev and Bill, of course you and Richie won. It wasn’t really a contest. After hours of splashing around you all went back to the top of the cliff. Beverly decided to lay down while you, Eddie and Richie sat with your legs dangling off the side over the water. You threw in rocks as Eddie ranted about how easily you could have all just gotten a virus.

“Why’d you really jump in?” Richie asked cutting off Eddie. “What?” You frowned, turning to look at him. “It’s been plenty hotter.” You shrugged, “I just felt like it I guess.” “Bullshit.” “Richie. Drop it.” You shot him a glare. “I’m just saying-““Well don’t.” Richie huffed. “I guess I was just jealous of Beverly.” You mumbled. Richie laughed, “Why?” “Because you all think of her as a real girl or whatever.” Richie doubled over laughing. “That’s just because she has jugs!” You looked down at your chest self consciously. “Okay because we knew she had jugs. But hey. If it helps, now we know you do too.”

You punched his arm. “I was just trying to help.” You shook your head smiling, “Thanks Richie, I feel so much better, asshole.” You laughed and stood up to join the rest of the group. They were all looking through Ben’s book bag. “What’s all this?” You asked leaning over Bill’s shoulder to get a decent look at the paper. “A bunch of D-Derry’s history,” Bill stuttered under your touch. “Cool. Why are they all murders or disappearances?” “Derry’s not like any other town I’ve been to before. They did a study once and it turns out people die or disappear six times the national average.” Ben answered quietly. “You read that?” Beverly asked “and that’s just adults… kids are worst, way, way, worse. I got more stuff, if you want to see.” Ben smiled, proud that people were interested in something he had done. “Yeah, totally.” You glanced over the paper again before returning to the clothes pile and slipping your pants and shirt back on over your now dry underwear.

“Hey Richie, Give me a lift back? I walked.” you asked, Richie of course nodded and waited for you to jump on the back and wrap your arms around him. “Get any closer and we might need protection.” Richie laughed and you groaned, “Go any slower and I may as well have walked.” you smirked chuckling against his back as you rode behind the rest of the losers.

“Whoa whoa whoa… wow!” Richie exclaimed when you all walk into Ben’s room. “Cool huh?” Ben smiled. “No, no, nothing cool, there’s nothing cool…. Well this is cool, right here… oh wait no, no it’s not, it’s not cool,” you laughed at Richie’s commentary as you looked around the room. “What’s that?” Stan asked pointing at one of the many papers stuck to the wall. “Uh that’s the charter for Derry township” Ben looked at the marked up words. “Nerd alert” Richie smirked, “No actually, it’s really interesting… Derry started as a beaver trapping town”

“Still is, am I right boys?” Richie laughed and put his hand up for a high five. To which Stan shook his head and you rolled your eyes. “91 people signed the charter that started Derry but later that winter they all disappeared without a trace,” Ben continued “The entire camp?” Eddie asked. Ben nodded, “There are rumors of Indians, but no sign of an attack, everyone just thought it was a plague or something but it’s like one day everyone just woke up and left. The only clue was a trail of bloody clothes leading to the well house.”

“Jesus, we can get Derry on unsolved mysteries.” Richie elbowed you and you chuckled at his lame idea. A drawing on the wall caught your eye. You leaned in to get a closer look. Along with a lot of old guys you could swear there was a clown. You frowned and ran your finger over it. Then the black and white ink winked at you. You gasped and stepped back, you shook your head trying to pretend that you had just imagined it and weren’t going crazy, “I don’t know Stanley, maybe he’s just trying to make some friends.” Richie hissed at Stan next to you.

“Um. W-where was the well house?” Bill asked, “I don’t know somewhere in town I guess… why?” Ben shot him a confused look. “Nothing” Bill mumbled, you knew he was thinking about Georgie.

Bill and Stan left first, Then Eddie and finally you and Richie decided to take off. “Want a ride home?” Richie asked after you had gotten out to his bike. “I don’t really want to go home. It’s only like 4.” “We can hang out at my house, My parents are out for the night.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed, “yeah, okay Tozier, let’s go.”

Part 3: Philosophy

Summary: While waiting for Joan, the sides and Thomas theorize about things.


Previous Chapters:  Prologue  Part 1  Part 2

Thomas walked Joan to the door. When they got there, Joan turned and looked up at Thomas, who was still feeling more than a little shaken up. 

“Hey. You okay?” they asked. 

Thomas made a face, glancing over his shoulder, but the sides had retreated back to the couch and he couldn’t see them anymore. “I guess so?” he said, raking his hand through his hair again. “I mean…I’m feeling a little better now that I know you see them too, but I’m not sure what it means for the both of us. You know?” 

“I really do.” Joan smirked, then shrugged. “But I mean, what else can we do but roll with it?” 

“You sound like Logan,” Thomas said. “It’s happening, so let’s move forward from here.” 

“Logan is a smart guy,” Joan agreed, patting Thomas on the shoulder. “You should listen to him.” 

Thomas chuckled, then grabbed Joan’s hand on impulse and clutched it for a moment. “You’ll come right back?” he said. “Promise?” 

“Yes, I promise, Thomas,” Joan assured him. “Hey. It’s gonna be cool. Okay?” 

“Yeah. I guess. Okay.” 

He watched as his friend climbed into their car and pulled out of the apartment’s parking lot, then turned and headed reluctantly back inside. 

Now that he knew the sides were really there, he was feeling…oddly self-conscious about the whole thing. These were his characters–parts that he’d played for over a year now. And they were here, in his apartment. He doubted he could’ve been more gobsmacked if all his favorite Disney characters suddenly came to life and started asking for coffee. 

He rounded the corner and there they were, still solid as ever, sitting on his sectional couch. At least I have a big couch? Thomas thought, then bit back an insane urge to giggle. He wasn’t sure it wouldn’t turn hysterical if he did. 

The sides all looked up at him, and he flushed under their combined scrutiny. “Uh…do you…do you guys need anything? Drinks, or…or anything…?” 

“Drinks might be good!” Patton said, climbing to his feet. “Let me help you with them, huh?” 

Keep reading

Guys My Age

 Can’t get enough of the amazing moodboards you make, Ama…this one was created by none other @everythinkpop

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: swearing and smut

 Pairing: Byun Baekhyun x female reader

 Word count: 6, 740

 Summary: Baekhyun was your best friends brother. You grew up knowing him and his sister. Having feelings was a thing,,,but him liking you back, not so expected. You had enough of stupid high school guys, but did Baekhyun want you?

 A/N: Okay, I know I’m supposed to write No Way Out but I’m having a small writers block, so please bear with me and wait a little bit longer. I hope this one shot turned out decent, I tried…Please leave feedback, I appreciate it much!

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NCT 127 reaction to overhearing you talking about how cute they are to another member


Anon: If you are still accepting can you do a NCT 127 reaction to their S/O saying they are cute to other member and they overhear please? Sorry if that doesn’t make sense >.

Thank you for requesting! I love this request, but it was kind of hard to come up with loads of different reactions so a couple of these might be a little too similar to one another - sorry!❤️⭐️


Originally posted by neotechs

Standing behind the half-shut door, hand about to push open the door fully, he’d be able to hear your excited voice gushing to Doyoung about how cute he (Taeil) is. Your voice would get higher and you’d squeal a little bit, thrusting your phone into Doyoung’s face to show him a fancam of Taeil at one of their latest performances. “Look! Look, Doyoung! He’s so cute! So, so, so cute…ah look at his little smile!” You’d gasp every time he made eye contact with the camera, smiling fondly at your phone. Taeil wouldn’t be used to being complimented like that so genuinely and sincerely; it’d make him blush hearing your sweet words and pure excitement over him. Being too shy to tell you he had overheard you earlier, he’d still act a little bit different afterwards; although he had wanted to say thank you, he was too embarrassed to admit his eavesdropping, so would just be very affectionate and sweet toward you for the rest of the day. You wouldn’t think much of his oddly-mushy behaviour, but you would think he was even more adorable than before, and definitely wouldn’t turn his skinship down and taeil would probably never tell you or another member this lols


Originally posted by coup-de-chance

Johnny would try to be sneaky and eavesdrop without you releasing - but that would just totally backfire on him. He had hoped that he’d be able to use your cute fangirling and gushing comments about him, against you in the future as a joke. But obviously, being the klutz he is, would’ve accidentally exposed himself. Leaning heavily against the door, he’d press his ear against it, trying to hear whatever you were telling Jaehyun about him, but his weight would only cause the door to fly open, Johnny suddenly falling forwards and onto the floor in front of you two. You’d immediately know what he was trying to do, the second the door flew open and revealed Johnny, and you’d turn to Jaehyun, the pair of you bursting into laughter. It’d be funny to see Johnny there, on his front with his limbs spread out, not to mention the intense, pink blush on his cheeks. Basically, it turns out the joke was on him. He’d be so embarrassed and mad at himself for not being more careful, but you’d just find him even more adorable, especially blushing like that; Johnny blushing would be a rare occurrence. Pinching his cheeks and ruffling his hair, you’d coo at your boyfriend, turning your head over your shoulder to a very cringed-out Jaehyun, and saying, “see what I mean? So cute!” Johnny’s obviously is going to hate you for this after lmao


Originally posted by neotechs

when i talk about tae squealing, this ^^^ is what i mean lol

Totally the type to squeal silently and flap his arms about with excitement. In your relationship, Taeyong would honestly just be in awe of you; he’d look at you with such fondness, show you so much affection and compliment you non-stop. However, you’d be quite shy about complimenting him back; he’d already have so many people tell him how cute or cool he looked, you’d just feel as if your words wouldn’t be that special to him; but, really, just one of your compliments could make his entire month, over a load from strangers. So, overhearing you babbling about him to Johnny, would melt his heart. He’d get all soft and fluffy, clasping his hands with excitement, and have to bound off to his bedroom to cool off and collect himself. Afterwards, he’d be shy around you, maybe showing you a little bit more affection than he usually gives you. It’d be more “chivalrous” and traditional affection, like kissing your hand or just being more polite and helpful around you. You’d have no clue why he was acting like this, not that you’d mind, until you complimented him again, this time to his face, and he started to squeal and waddle about with excitement, flapping his hands about again and thanking you for your words. 


Originally posted by yutaf

Yuta’s reaction would probably the most dramatic idk if that’s actually the right word but idk what else is lols out of all the members. Honestly, I don’t think he’d really want to be called cute, especially not by you; he just wouldn’t understand how he could possibly be cute or how anyone could see it in him. As you were sitting there on the sofa, showing WinWin some photos of you had taken of Yuta asleep, Yuta would overhear you gushing and fangirling over him, WinWin probably agreeing that he looks cute too lmFao yuwin sets sail. Smirking, he’d casually stride in, interrupting you mid-sentence as he heaves himself down beside you, an arm snaking round your shoulders. You and Sicheng would just gawp at him, just a bit embarrassed about being caught talking about him. “So”, Yuta would start. “I thought I was sexy? Not cute, hmm?” Your eyes would widen, remembering that you had only just called him that the other night aye aye ;))) if u know what i mean. WinWin would awkwardly excuse himself from the room, only just realising what Yuta meant by his words. Watching his member leave the room quietly, Yuta would quickly turn back to look at you, raising an eyebrow waiting for you to reply. Just as you start to open your mouth to stutter reply, Yuta would push you back onto the sofa, hovering your body with his, and automatically, attaching his lips to your neck. You’d gasp, surprised at his sudden action and at his hand that had slipped under your shirt to touch your skin if u want a better description on how he’d kiss u read this. Kissing your neck, jaw and lips attentively, Yuta would ask you between kisses, quiet pants for you, “still cute?” no yuta no stop it we get the memo


Originally posted by dimplesjae

Doyoung would honestly be shocked to hear you call him “cute and honestly, the best looking man on earth”, along with some other adorable compliments, to Mark. Your relationship would be quite playful and sarcastic; sure, you’d compliment one another but it’d always be about something stupid like “oh my god, Doyoung! You have such beautiful ears!” or “my favourite thing about you, Y/N? Your elbows, babe.” It’d rarely be about how cute or how good looking he is even though gdi he really is he’s so beautiful omg. Neither of you would mind not taking it seriously; skin ship and other ways of showing affection could make up for all those unsaid, sweet compliments. Not sure what to do or say, Doyoung would find himself smiling gratefully, blushing slightly and pressing his hands to his cheeks to cool himself down it. He’d push open the door, you stopping your little fangirl moment about him to Mark and smiling at your boyfriend, blissfully unaware that he had overheard. Acting like normal, smiling and greeting you, he’d sit beside you, jointing the conversation and occasionally slipping in the odd compliment towards you. You’d be a bit shook shocked at his words (just as he was) and would end up asking why he was so happy and sweet all of the sudden. He’d shrug his shoulders innocently, giggling at how you still hadn’t realised. From then on, compliments like that would become more common. 


Originally posted by mintokkies

You’d probably never know that Jaehyun had overheard you, and to be frankly honest, you were thankful. You’d be in full-fangirl mode, squealing over Jaehyun’s fancams and jabbering on non-stop, as Yuta occasionally looked up from his phone beside you to give you a dirty look. Jaehyun, hearing your squeals and loud talking, would think that something had happened to you and would genuinely run to the room where you were to check up on you. Of course, the closer he got, the clearer your voice became and he quickly realised that it was just you fanning over him. He’d refrain from entering the room, probably leaning against the wall to hear more of your sweet comments. He’d have this small smile on his face, his heart warmed by your compliments and excitement. No one would ever find out about him overhearing, probably the reason why you never got to the root of why he suddenly became clingy with you the next day.


Originally posted by softlyqentle

Sicheng would probably be with another member at the time probably Yuta too gdi. Honestly? He wouldn’t hear you compliment him; your voice would be so quiet and his mind would wander off and think about other things very easily. He’d suddenly feel someone punching his arm excitedly and after flinching slightly, he’d questioningly watch Yuta get excited for him. Giving him a high five and being very proud of him, WinWin would have genuinely not heard you so would be confused as to why Yuta was doing this. Then again, WinWin probably wouldn’t bother asking what’s up and wouldn’t bring it up again. No doubt Yuta would get aggravated by this, completely missing the point so would bring it up later when you were around. You’d confidently confirm that you had told Haechan that about him. Feeling a little slow and dumb basically, he’d apologise and would start blushing and smiling cutely, being very affectionate with you.


Originally posted by nctaezen

Mark, although he probably tries to kid himself that he’s “cool” and “hip”, would still manage to embarrass himself and blow his over in these kinds of situations. At first, he’d be doing a good job at listening in on your conversation with Taeyong; perched on his feet lightly, barely pressing his body to the door but just enough so he could hear your voice - he’d actually succeed in being quiet and secretive. But, it wouldn’t last for long. Upon hearing your compliments about his “cuteness”, Mark’s heart would start to race, just like a kid does with his school crush, just like the early month of your relationship. His Canadian politeness would kick in instinctively and he’d open his mouth, uttering an enthusiastic “thank you”. Bearing in mind, he’d still be behind the partially shut door, you and Taeyong sitting, what you originally had thought as, privately. Taeyong would laugh, expecting this kind of thing to happen to Mark anyway and immediately releasing what he was doing. You and Mark would both be incredibly shy and nervous around each other that, both of you stuttering an apology to one another (which would be graciously rejected), blushing furiously and basically contemplating your life decisions lmfao.


Originally posted by neotechs

Would probably be the most excited and flustered out of all the members. He wouldn’t dare to walk in and thank you, after hearing your sweet compliments about him to Taeil.  Although he would’ve loved to, his blushing cheeks and wide grin would just immediately give away that “cool guy” image he always tried note the word tried to upkeep around you. Instead as if this idea is any fucking better lmao, he’d literally skip throughout the dorms until he found another one of the members to tell them about you. He’d end up gushing to the oldest members, Taeil, Johnny, Taeyong and Yuta, feeling quite smug and proud of him selves that he had had that effect over you although really he’d prefer if you called him handsome but you probably call him that all the time anyway. Rolling their eyes and smirking as they enjoyed the show a flustered and flapping-hands Haechan was putting on for them, they’d actually refrain from telling you about his antics and wild reaction. Only if he kept talking about it and wouldn’t drop it ever, would they threaten him with it. He’d automatically turn shy, begging them not to tell you because he was embarrassed. In the end, they probably would, and you’d find it even more adorable, probably pinching his cheeks and cooing at him the next time you see him.

Teddy Ghost/Swagger Bishie ideas/story kinda

Dash starts crushing on his favorite punching bag because despite being weird and a dork Fenturd is kinda nice and cute and if he weren’t so antisocial and puny he’d have girls hanging off him constantly.

Dash getting jealous when other people bully Fentonio and starts defending him in a kind of ‘this is /my/ punching bag, get it?!’ way.

But then he sort of cools down on the actual punching because Fenton looks so tired and he’s barely making C’s he must have some sort of learning problem and is up studying all night poor thing.

(Side note, I have a headcanon that Dash won’t bully people with disorders. You never see Dash bully special needs kids, and yeah I get it’s a cartoon but at my school if you bully the specials you’re some kind of monster and everyone will hate you. But seriously Dash never really comments on kids’ glasses or braces. It’s usually their social status, interests, and size difference that he makes fun of. No one really gets bullied for things like blindness. I guess it’s one of those unwritten rules to not pick on the problems that nobody can help having.)

Dash starts noticing small things about Fenton. How he’s constantly dropping things and it freaks him out occasionally. How he has to wear a belt now to keep his pants up because he has lost a lot of weight now that Dash thinks about it. How when, on the odd occasion, he grins so big his eyes close after he gets a good grade. And god, those eyes, if the damn things were any bluer Dash thinks they would be glowing, and they kinda do sometimes when he’s angry or during the ghost attacks, just for a moment, if only Dash could get closer in those moments because sometimes he swears they look green from a distance.

When he picks Fenton up to threaten him or to stuff him in a locker Dash notices how cold Danny’s hands are, and for some reason that worries him a little. It worries him more when he gets in the boy’s face and can feel his cool breath even though it’s a good eighty degrees outside.

Dash wonders why Fenton avoids the locker room until the bell has rung and everyone else has left. His friends don’t seem worried, though. Dash has even heard them talk about how he doesn’t get the time to shower properly at home because he’s always so busy with ghosts, so he assumes that Fenton helps his parents with their dumb gadgets as well as doing homework all night of course why else would he be so exhausted all the time?

One time Dash accidentally leaves his phone in the locker room and returns to look for it. Instead he finds Fenton, dripping wet with a towel around his waist digging through his locker for something. What shocks Dash is all the scars and bruises on the boy. There’s a bad one in particular that streaks across his back like a jagged lightning bolt from his left arm to the right side of his waist. It looks deep and painful and Dash knew that wasn’t there in the beginning of the year. He grabs his phone and runs out of the locker room before Fenton has a chance to realize he’s not alone.

Dash begins treating Danny differently altogether. He wonders where in the fresh hell the kid got those scars. He knows he’s freaking Danny out by staring at him but never approaching him, never even saying a bad word to him about his family or his friends or anything. He can’t help it. Danny Fenton is less of a punching bag and more of an enigma to Dash now.

There’s a burn scar on Danny’s left hand Dash notices. It’s on his palm, and Dash only catches a couple glimpses of it as he and Danny are assigned as lab partners for this week. He wonders if he got that from goofing around in his parents’ lab. But then, Danny doesn’t seem the type to play around with dangerous things. With a sinking feeling Dash wonders if he got that from some kind of experiment, and this leads to a thought that his parents were using Danny as a lab rat. Dash dismisses it, because seriously they make enough money to buy real lab rats and Jazz doesn’t have any kind of marks like that on her hands.

Dash wonders where Danny always goes when Danny Phantom shows up.

He swears he sees Danny helping Phantom out at the amusement park when Phantom takes down the giant RV ghost. It makes him wonder if he got those scars from helping Phantom.

Dash thinks about throwing a Christmas party and inviting Danny and his friends with the excuse that Paulina put him up to it to lure Phantom again. When really, he wants to make Danny smile at least once at Christmas, because Danny is always in a bad mood when the holidays come around. It makes Dash wonder what could make Danny, who was so eager about Halloween and Thanksgiving and any holiday really, hate the mother of all holidays.

Dash sees Danny’s relationships and feels that little green goblin of envy growling in his chest. It’s everything he can do not to punch Danny for dating Paulina, and Valerie, and even his goth friend. Instead he takes it out on Mikey and the chess club and band and everyone who isn’t Danny or his football friends.

Dash confessing to Kwan about his crush on Danny, nothing else, and Kwan laughs and says “I always kinda knew. I mean, you do listen to boy bands and sleep with a stuffed bear named Fenton.”

Dash accidentally sneaks up on Danny and startles him. Danny responds with an automatic left hook, catching Dash’s cheek and knocking him over with more force than Dash thought was possible for someone so thin. He apologizes reluctantly and helps Dash to his feet and walks away, leaving the jock to wonder where the hell Danny learned to punch like that and where that strength came from.

Dash taking advantage of his tutoring sessions with Jazz to find out things about Danny, like that he likes to mow the lawn because he likes the smell of cut grass, or that he likes sea salt and vinegar flavored chips, and that he doesn’t like drinking bottled spring water because fish live in springs and fish pee. Dash’s favorite is that Danny likes old rock bands like Bon Jovi and Queen and the Eagles as well as Dumpty Humpty.

Dash always thought that Danny was a little of a pig when he ate. But now that he watches him the jock realizes the boy eats as if he’ll never see food again sometimes. As opposed to Foley who just eats like his mother never taught him what a fork was. For some reason it worries Dash.

Dash never knew that Danny drew. He never draws in class or at lunch. And it’s no wonder. For an assignment they have to include an illustration and Danny did that part. It stuns Dash at how quick and good he is. But suddenly Danny is surrounded by kids admiring his drawing and wanting him to draw them too. Dash shoos them away because honestly Danny is stressed out enough he doesn’t need these losers ordering him around. Danny just looks at Dash in shock.

“Is this your card?”

Castiel watched as Dean Winchester dramatically flipped over a face card and displayed it with a flourish to a hopeful Lisa Braeden.

“Uh… no,” she murmured, her face falling into disappointment.

Dean, however, continued the routine with a smile on his face, even after he made three more incorrect guesses. He might have been absolutely terrible at every magic trick he ever tried, but at least he had enthusiasm about it.

“Strike out?” Castiel asked as Dean finally sat down next to him in homeroom and began shuffling his cards.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, I wasn’t really trying. I just wanted to try the trick on someone that hadn’t seen it yet.”

Castiel smiled and propped his head up on his hand. “It looked like you nearly had it that time.”

“I know!” Dean grinned, right before a card flew out of the deck and smacked him in the face.

As terrible as Dean was at his various card tricks, Castiel couldn’t help but find it incredibly endearing. The way his face would light up when someone lied out of pity and claimed the unfamiliar card was their own was too cute for words. Especially when such escapades were coming from his seventeen year old best friend.

Their classroom was decorated with a sickening explosion of pink and red hearts that only grew more and more obvious the closer they got to Valentine’s day. Today, a few streamers had been added, as well as a cut-out of a caricature heart in a top hat.

“Any plans for Valentine’s day, Cas?”

Keep reading

Distance - Part Six

Steve Harrington x Henderson Reader

Summary - Returning from college for winter break, Y/N is faced with the stinging pain left from her break-up with Steve Harrington.

Word Count -2,638

Warnings - mild swearing, fluff, angst, flashback

A/N - Part Six is here, and I have a feeling you guys will really like this one. I think it might be the longest part so far, so yay for that! There will definitely be one more part, but I’m not sure if there will be anymore after that. Please let me know what you think, because one of the best things about sharing my writing is hearing how you guys react to it. Enjoy :) 

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four Part Five

You sat next to Steve in Hopper’s office, a heavy silence filling the air. Steve had just beaten the shit out of Billy. You winced at the memories of flying blood and painful groans, goosebumps running down your arms.

“What’s the matter?” Steve said gently, placing his swollen, bruised hand on yours. Your concerned eyes met his as he squeezed gently, urging you to answer. You were about to speak up when the door flew open, both you and Steve jumping in your seats. You both stared at Hopper as he pushed himself down into his chair, taking his hat off and rubbing his eyes from stress.

He took a deep breath, then spoke, “Steve,” he folded his arms over his chest, leaning back in his seat, “why don’t you tell me why Billy Hargrove is passed out in the waiting room handcuffed to the chair before I put you back in handcuffs.” Steve rubbed his previously bound wrists, and sat up straight.

“Thanks for that, by the way.” He said, referring to Hopper requesting Steve be taken out of the cuffs when arriving at the station.

“Don’t thank me yet, kid,” Hopper said, waiting for an explanation.

Steve sighed, “Listen, Billy… He’s been a huge dick to the kids, alright?” Hopper leaned forward at the mentioning of the kids, realizing that Jane is one of them. “Last night, he threatened Max because of her and Lucas. When she fought back he kicked her out of his car, leaving her alone, in the dark, freezing cold. That’s when Y/N found her.” Hopper glanced at you before returning his attention to Steve, letting him continue. “We took Max home, and Billy came out of the house when we pulled up, and there was a small fight. Thanks to you, you thought. It could’ve been worse.

“Then this morning Dustin called me and told me he needed me, saying it was an emergency, that we had to meet at the Wheeler’s house. I got there, and they all wanted to figure out a way to get revenge on Billy, or something.” Hopper shook his head, knowing that would be something the kids would do. He swears, they think they’re invincible. “Jane offered to scare him… with her powers.” Hoppers face dropped.

What?” He raised his voice, feeling the urge to rush to the Wheeler’s and make sure El was okay.

“No- no! She didn’t, we didn’t let her.” Hopper took a sigh of relief. “We told them we would handle it.”

“So, you handled it by basing his face in?” Hopper asked, giving Steve a pointed look.

Steve adjusted himself in his seat, “Well, I mean, yeah I guess. I ran into him in Benny’s parking lot and he threw the first punch. I was going to call you actually, thought you’d be better fit to handle it then me, but Billy didn’t give me a choice.

Hopper took a long sip of his coffee, thinking over the situation. “Listen, kid,” he started, “You should’ve called me sooner, but I don’t blame you,” he set his mug down on his desk. “From what I’ve gathered, he deserved it.”

He did,” you said finally, breaking your silence. Hopper nodded at you before standing up, placing his hat back on his head.

“I’ll handle Hargrove from here, you guys are free to go.” Hopper held out his hand to Steve, who hesitated for a moment before shaking it firmly. With that, he turned on his feet, walking out of the office to face Billy.

Steve gave you a small smile, relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with Billy’s harassment anymore. More importantly, that Max wouldn’t. You looked at his face, turning darker by the minute as the blood from his broken vessels started to show, a deep frown settling into your own. “Steve…” you whispered, gently tracing your finger over the cut on his lip. “Your face, it looks terrible.

“Ouch,” Steve responded. “I mean, I know we aren’t together anymore, but you really think I’m that bad looking?” You shook your head at him, unamused with his jokes.

“I’m being serious,” you said, dropping your hand from his face.

“I know, I know,” He grabbed your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. “If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy.” You softly smiled as you rolled your eyes. “There she is,” he said smiling at you once again.

“How are you going to explain this to your parents?” You questioned, ignoring his comment.

“I don’t know,” he said rubbing the back of his neck, “but I won’t have to explain in tonight.” You looked at him in confusion, before he continued, “They went to a conference for a few days.”

You nodded your head, understanding. His dad was always away for work, and his mom usually tagged along to get out of the house.

You pulled your hand away from his and shoved it in your back pocket as you stood up, clearing your throat. “I should go pick up Dustin, it’s getting pretty late.” Steve followed your actions, following you as you began walking out of the office. “Are you gonna be okay, Steve?” You questions, referring to his minor injuries.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he responded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll probably ice my face, don’t want it to get too bad.” He looked over at you charming smile adorning his face, “It’s the only thing I’ve got going for me.”

You shook your head, trying to hide your smile as the two of you stepped out of the police station.

“So Harrington beat his ass?” Dustin asked as you drove through the familiar streets of Hawkins, George Harrison’s My Sweet Lord humming through the radio. You nodded your head, keeping your eyes focused on the road.

“That’s awesome!” He cheered, earning a small laugh from you.

“He could’ve gotten seriously hurt, and it wasn’t the best way to handle things,” you said, making sure to make this a big sister teachable moment.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Dustin groaned, “You know that’s cool. Steve kicked Billy’s ass!”

“Yeah, I know Dustin,” you sighed, “I just wish it was handled in a non-violent manner. We should’ve told Hopper as soon as I found Max.” You looked over at Dustin, and he gave you a knowing smile.

What?” You asked, confused by your brother’s sudden change in attitude.

“You know what.”

“No, Dustin, I don’t,” you let out an annoyed sigh, “I clearly wouldn’t be asking if I knew.”

“It’s obvious why your so upset about this violence.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh yeah? Why is that Dustin”

“It’s because you loooove Steve. You don’t want Steeeeeve to get hurt because you love him,” Dustin said drawing out his words in a mocking tone. Your face turned bright as you tried to muster up an answer, although he wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Dustin, I care about Steve. I don’t want him to get hurt,” you responded, avoiding eye-contact. You pulled into your driveway, turning it off as soon as you parked.

“You didn’t want him to get hurt, because you love him!” He teased again, pulling on your arm for dramatic effect.

Shut up,” you mumbled, getting out of the car and rushing into the house to avoid any more awkward confrontation.

You fell on your bed as soon as you reached your room, heart racing from Dustin’s words. You did love Steve. You hadn’t stopped since the first time you admitted it to him.

Steve ran his hands soothingly along your back as the rain hit the large glass windows in his living-room. You two had plans to go to a party tonight, but his parents were away for the weekend and both of you agreed that some time alone was better than dealing with drunk, sweaty people that neither of you cared much for anyways. You had convinced him to watch Sixteen Candles, despite his protests. He had said it was to make you happy, but you really knew he was a sucker for chick-flicks on the inside.

You tried to remain focused on Molly Ringwald, but Steve’s hand was distracting. “Steve, you’re distracting me,” you admitted, causing his hand to stop in the middle of your back.

“Oh, am I?” He said, continuing his motions. You closed your eyes at the feeling, managing a hum in response. “Sorry,” he said, an idea forming in his head. “Maybe this will be a little less distracting.” You jumped as he tickled your sides, holding you in place as you tried to move away.

“St-Steve,” you breathed out in between tickles. “St- STOP!” You shouted, squirming under his touch. He pulled you onto his lap, laughing along with you as he continued his assault. You continued to protest, but nothing was working, so, you stopped him in the only way you knew would. His hands froze against your skin as you pushed your lips onto his. He immediately kissed back, figuring that it was a definitively better option than a tickle fight. He gripped your waist as you pushed your hands through his long brown hair, pulling lightly. You let this continue for a second, before pulling away breathless. He looked at you, brown eyes soft, a small smile pulling at his lips.

This was it, you thought. If you didn’t say it now, the courage you were suddenly feeling might go away and never come back. “Steve…” You breathed out, letting his hand run over your cheek. He hummed in response, brushing his thumb over your lips. “I think that- I mean I know that…”

“What?” He urged, curious by your sudden nervousness.

You took a deep breath, “I love you, Steve.”

Steve’s hand stopped on your face, shock settling into his features. Butterflies danced around his stomach in reaction to your words. He had been wanting to say what you just had, but he was scared. Nancy hadn’t loved him, and he feared being rejected by you if he had said it first like he did with her. But all of his worries seemed to fly out the window as soon as the words left your mouth. You loved him.

Why was he taking so long to respond? You felt like time stopped as soon as the words left your mouth, yet your heart continued racing. You were starting to assume the worst, until Steve finally broke the silence.

“I love you too, Y/N.”  You took a breath, relief filling your lungs. “God, I love you so much it scares me.” You didn’t know what to say, so you did something better. You kissed him, hard. The movie continued playing, but it seemed a foreign language to you as Steve suddenly became the only thing in the world that made sense at the moment.

You wiped the salty tears from your cheeks, sucking in a breath of air. How could Steve do this to you? How could he leave you, ripping apart your heart, his explanation being that it was what was best for you? How the hell did he know what was best for you? How could this be what was best? Lonely nights, crying in bed, knowing the only person who could comfort you was the one causing your pain. Sitting in the corner at college parties, ignoring all the boys who hit on you because they weren’t Steve. Heart feeling heavy every time something reminded you of him, and almost everything reminded you of him. This wasn’t okay. How could Steve make you think that that this was okay, that this was what was best?

Being led by your sudden anger, you stood up, grabbing your keys from your bed and rushing downstairs. You quickly slipped on your shoes, the sudden commotion causing Dustin to look up from his seat on the couch. “Where the hell are you going?” he questioned, “We just got home, Y/N.” You ignored him, nearly tripping over your feet as you pushed yourself out the door and into the car.

Knock, knock, knock.

Your foot bounced as you waited for Steve to answer the door, thinking over what you were going to say. Your head snapped up as the door opened, Steve standing there, holding a bag of peas to his head. “Hey, what are y-” You pushed past Steve, cutting him off mid-sentence. He stood in the doorway for a moment trying to process what was happening, before closing it and turning to face you.

“We can’t be friends, Steve. It doesn’t make sense for us to be friends.” He dropped the bag of peas on the living room table, staring at you in confusion.

What?” he said, concern evident in his voice.

“You decided to break up, because it was what was best. You decided we should be friends, because it was what was best.” You said, staring Steve straight into his questioning eyes.

“I don’t g-” Steve started before you cut him off.

No, Steve, let me finish,” you said. Steve recognized your serious tone and stood with a blank stare, waiting for you to continue. “You broke my heart Steve, ripped it right in half,” you said, voice breaking. A tear fell down your cheek, but you ignored it and continued. “Four months. It’s been four months and I still cry every time I think about the damn hole you left in my heart, but it’s what was best for me, right?”

“Y/N,” he started, “I’m sorry that I hurt you, it kills me knowing that I’m the reason for your tears, but you don’t need me anymore.” Your gut twisted at his words, but you let him continue. “You have bigger, better things waiting for you. I’m just going to hold you back.”

God, you’re such and idiot, Steve!” You said, loud tone causing him to jump a bit. “You don’t know what’s best for me, what I needonly I do. Who gave you the right to make my decisions for me?” A small sob escaped your lips, but you weren’t done. “How can you be so blind to the fact that you are what’s best for me? That you are what I need.” You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “I love you, Steve, and I’ll be damned if I let you take that away from me.” His heart sped up at your words, hearing those specific three for the first time in what felt like forever. “I don’t care if there’s a thousand miles between us, I don’t care if there’s a million miles, you are so much more than the distance, Steve. What we have, is so much more than any of that bullshit.” Silent tears continued to fall down your face as you waited for him to say something. You grew impatient, deciding that Steve had been making too many choices for you.

Before nerves could stop you, you closed the space between you by pushing your lips against his. He reacted immediately, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer. You held one hand against his face, the other running through his hair, old habits kicking in. God, had you missed this. The emotions became too much as your eyes began to leak tears again. Steve gently stroked your back as he pulled away, his own teary eyes meeting yours. “I love you too, Y/N.” You shoved your face into his chest, pulling him into a tight hug. You cried silently, and he continued to rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” You melted in his arms, finally feeling like you were home again.

“Don’t ever do that to me again, Steve,” you whispered against his chest.

“I won’t.”  

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Galaxies - Blind!Michael Clifford Smut

submitted by unlostmgc, thank you!!

He hadn’t been born this way; when I met Michael, he had the prettiest eyes - galaxies of peridot green with stars the colour of sapphires and topaz, with a ring of emerald so dark it was almost black. He had the nebula beneath his eyelids, with a depth so fathomless that you almost felt like you could fall into them. Michael was nine when he got the mist, glazing over his pupils like space dust, until he was thirteen, when he got the clouds in his eyes.

Despite everything, Michael was still humble. His laugh was infectious, so raw that when he threw his head back, you were bitten by the bug, and there was absolutely nothing that could stop you from laughing. And his smile still lit his face, plump, cherry lips stretching over bucked teeth that would catch his lip when he was trying to hide, and his nose would wrinkle and his eyelids would fall closed to let his eyelashes brush the tops of his cheeks. Despite everything, Michael was still the most beautiful creature to walk the Earth.

Both inside and out; Michael’s heart would swell with love, and fuck, when he loved, he loved hard. He loved with kisses so deep and warm that they would stay branded on your tongue forever, and he loved with words so kind and sweet that they would taint the walls of your ears infinitely. Michael loved like nobody else could, naive touches to cheeks and chins, and painting his own picture of you in his head, Michael loved.

Michael hadn’t had amazing luck with relationships, the ones that were over before they could start. He didn’t have the chance to feel the same love he gave, and Michael was left with a heart that was ready to burst. It was sad with Michael; he deserved the Earth, but barely had the dust.

“I wonder if he had epilepsy.” He mused aloud, his fingers running over the bumps of his book as he read about his favourite artist - Leonardo da Vinci.

“Why do you wonder that?” I asked softly, turning the page of my own book as I scanned over the words.

“It says here,” He started, and I was completely mesmerised by him as his lips curled around the words he spoke. “He drew with his left hand, but wrote with his right. When he did write with his left hand, it was mirrored. Back then they would have treated epilepsy by severing the corpus callosum, which would disconnect the two cerebral hemispheres. The left hemisphere sends information to the right side of the body, and the right hemisphere sends information to the left-”

I simply looked at him, watching him as his fingers glided across the page, with his tongue flicking against his bottom lip when he took a breath, before he began talking again. I loved to hear him talk, all the way from the bottom of his diaphragm with a rasp that gravelled his tone, and a depth that seemed to rise from the cavern of his chest. He spoke full and loud, with heart, and a confidence that showed that he was truly at peace with himself.

When Michael had started to go blind, especially as he began to go through puberty, he became extremely self-conscious. It was understandable, there wasn’t a way for him to see how he looked, and it had always made him insecure. And then there was his issues with his eyes - there had been tens upon tens of people that daren’t look at the spaces between his eyelashes, because they thought that the clouds were far from beautiful and actually kind of terrifying. He had confessed that he had found it impossible to be intimate with anyone, because as he became comfortable with taking his glasses off, they became uncomfortable with looking at his eyes. Nastily, he’d been told to his face that they were a turn-off.

“I’ll bet you twenty quid that he was epileptic.”

“Mikey, I don’t have twenty quid.” I laughed softly, setting my book down in my lap and haphazardly dog-earing the page. “But I’ll Google it, just for you.”

“Knew there was a reason you were my best friend.” He teased, leaning forward slightly to punch me softly in the arm. I had grown used to that, too. Michael always seemed to know where I was, and I didn’t know if it was because he could hear me when I moved, or because he had memorised the atmosphere of his surroundings. He was notorious for both, which I always found to be quite the quirk. “What’s it say?”

“Hold on a second, damn.” I scoffed, not even halfway through my lock screen password as he spoke. I scrolled through Google for a second, looking over at Michael as he continued to roll the balls of his fingertips over the bumps of Braille in his book. “Yeah, he was epileptic.”

“I’m so smart.” He grinned, his teeth catching his bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, before abruptly slamming his hardback shut and pushing it away from him in annoyance. I jumped slightly at the sound of it hitting the carpet, swiftly casting a glance up to him as he turned towards me with his legs pulled up underneath him. “Can I ask you a question? And you have to answer it honestly.”

“Sure.” I shrugged to myself, closing my own book and setting it atop his as I turned towards him on the plush carpet.

“Promise?” He threaded his fingers together, his lips pursed as he settled his fists in his lap. His breathing shallowed when I responded with the affirmative, and he shuffled slightly as his usually cream-coloured cheeks began to turn a pretty pastel pink colour. With his eyelashes fluttering, he dipped his tongue out to trace his lower lip before once again opening his mouth to speak. “What does sex feel like?”

I was taken aback; I had known Michael since we were in nappies and not once had we ever strayed into this territory. Sure, he’d spoken about how the furtherest he had gotten without his partners backing out, was handjobs beneath the back table at the library, but we had never talked about any of our experiences in all seriousness.

“Oh,” I choked out, lifting my hands to cool my cheeks as my face flushed warm, and my eyes dropped to the floor in embarrassment even though I knew he couldn’t even see the colour of my cheeks. “I think it would be different for us, Michael. We don’t have the same, like… organs?”

“I don’t mean like, that, I mean, when you-” He huffed, uncrossing his legs just to cross them again.

“Orgasm?” I finished, watching him carefully as he shifted, turning his head to listen closely. I would have found it adorable, if it weren’t for the burn of my cheeks or the memories playing over and over in my head. “You’ve never had an orgasm before?” I questioned quietly, knowing that he could hear every shake in my breath.

“Y/N, I have hands.” He tutted, wiping the palms of the said pair on the denim that covered his thighs. A comet of tingles shot to my stomach as I pictured exactly what Michael was implying, and I began to feel as if my lungs suddenly couldn’t get enough air into them. “What does sex feel like for you?”

“Uh,” I breathed out, shifting on the carpet until my legs were crossed like his, and we practically mirrored one another as my brain whirred back to the three of four times I’d had sex with my ex. “I just feel full…” I started, honestly unable to believe that I was talking about this to my best friend. “Um, it doesn’t really feel like anything until something happens with the G-spot, and that kind of feels like an electric shock. But a nice electric shock. And, um, I have a really sensitive clit, and when someone, or I touch that, it’s kind of-Michael, I can’t describe it.”

He whined lowly, his cheeks a vibrant pink and his lips wet from his tongue, and a rush of tingles bloomed between my thighs as the sound met my ears. Leaning back on his palms, his head rolled back as he let out an aggravated groan that rumbled through his chest and shook his Adam’s apple.

With the topic of sex whirling through the synapses of my brain, all I could think about was Michael. I was thinking about his back curving off the bed and his tongue swiping against my throat. I was thinking about his arms wrapped tightly around my waist and his cock buried snugly between my thighs. I was thinking about the low whines that would roll from his tongue if I rode him and the way my fingers would tangle in his hair.

His head rolled forward abruptly, his lips parting as my thighs clenched together, and his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. I knew exactly what he was doing, because even though Michael’s eyes didn’t work, all of his other senses were extremely sensitive. He could smell and hear everything, and in this case, it was me. He could smell exactly how turned on I was, pheromones drifting from my skin to his nose like pollen in the wind, and he could hear just how much he was affecting me, my breath choking in my throat like rusted gears.

“Y/N,” He breathed out, and immediately I looked away from him. I could only imagine what my name would sound like moaned breathlessly into my ear. “I trust you, you know?” Leaning forward, he reached towards me and gently wrapped his fingers around my ankle. “I trust you with my life. I trust you with my eyes. I trust you with my cock. Please, please.”

“Michael, I’m really not sure this is a good idea. We’ve been friends since we were kids-”

“And you think this will ruin it?” He finished, coaxing me forward with his fingertips as they trailed up my calf to rest on my knee.

“I just want you to wonder if you really want this, first.” I exhaled, gasping in another breath as his fingers tangled with mine and he gently pulled me until my fingertips were dipping beneath his boxers, and the two of us let out synchronised whimpers as his hand wrapped mine around his thickening length.

“You want me to wonder? Your fingers are wrapped around the proof.” He breathed heavy, releasing my hand from his grip, but his lungs stuttered as I stroked him once, before I withdrew completely. “Fuck.”

“Okay, okay, fuck, Michael!” I scrambled off the floor, pushing my hair out of my face as I paced to the door and back again. He put his palms to the floor, pushing himself backwards until his back was pressed flat against the side of his bed. When he reached forward, I inched into his grip, letting out a squeak as he pulled me down to my knees. “What do you want me to do?”

He didn’t answer, shaking his head from side to side as his fattened length started to strain against his jeans. I was about to speak once again, but was silenced as his hands met my hips, the fingertips slipping underneath the material of my blouse as he slowly began to roam the inch or two of my skin. He was feeling, memorising the things he couldn’t see, and imagining them in his head. Heavy breaths fell between our chests, and I leaned back slightly as I crossed my arms over my torso, careful not to nudge him as I lifted my top over my head. His hands were everywhere, then, his thumbs running over the flesh of my stomach and tracing the rim of my bellybutton, and his fingertips following the curves of my sides.

“How do I feel?” I wondered aloud, quietly reaching around to unhook the clasps of my bra as his palms danced over the juts of my ribs.

“Supple.” He answered, his tongue flicked out over his teeth as his thumbs stroked across the curves of my breasts, trekking over the flesh and skimming over the peaks of my nipples until his palms encased my chest. “You feel like silk.”

My fingers weaved through his hair as his head dipped forward, his nose following the route his thumbs had taken until his mouth fastened over my nipple. Tingles began to buzz beneath his lips as he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the little pink nub, suckling tenderly on the skin before his tongue flicked over. All tongue and lips, it sent jolts through my body.

“Oh,” I keened quietly, pulling softly on his hair as my pussy began to pulse and my hips rutted against his. My eyes fell closed and I leaned back to give him more space, his tongue rolling over my nipples in circles that had my head spinning.

His hands dropped down to the button of my jeans, and I fought the urge to grind against him as he slipped the denim down my thighs, fingertips caressing every inch of skin but the place I wanted him to touch the most. When my jeans had dropped from my ankles, he started to explore, tracing the outline of my underwear before slowly prying them down to follow my jeans. The room was getting warmer, and his forehead was resting softly against my sternum as he gripped at the flesh of my thighs. When his hands dipped around to my ass, I rolled my hips back into them as he kneaded the rounds.

“You smell like the epitome of sin.” He whispered out, and I almost didn’t catch it over my own laboured breathing. “I can’t imagine what you taste like.”

One of his hands slipped around, following the curve of my thigh until the pad of his fingertip met my clit. I fought the urge to whimper, getting lost in his hands as his finger slid through my lips, coating in the essence of my arousal before he was toying at my pussy. My clit was throbbing, desperate for his attention again, and it was met with the heel of his palm as his finger dipped into me.

“Michael,” I leaned up, my nipple catching on his lips again as I sultrily spread my thighs for his hand. “I want you to taste me. Please.”

He mewled at the words, pawing at my thighs and gently lifting me from my knees. I gripped at his shoulders, keeping him close as he laid me atop the covers of his bed, plump pillows tucked beneath my spine. His breath fanned out across my stomach as his hands stroked the curves of my hips, wrapping around my thighs and tenderly pushing them apart.

Tongue and lips, I let out a huff of air as my jaw fell slack and his tongue swept flat from the hole his finger had dipped into, to the button of my clit. It throbbed beneath his tastebuds, shock after shock of electricity shooting from my nerve endings as he flicked over the nub like a kitten at its milk. My eyes fluttered shut, and I lazily tossed my legs over his broad shoulders as he suckled and tickled, before he retreated back to my opening. I couldn’t hold in the purrs as his tongue circled the hole, before pushing in gently, over and over again until I’m sure his chin was dripping.

Michael had a talent, his lips engulfing mine as my back arched and twisted, and he sucked softly at my clit until I couldn’t take his tongue anymore. Two of his fingers sank knuckle-deep into my pussy, twisting and rolling and scissoring until I was stretched to accommodate another finger.

“There, fucking hell.” My head rolled back, my teeth sinking painfully into my lip as he nudged his fingertip against the spot that sent electric shocks to every corner of my body. “Michael, Michael,” I moaned, tugging roughly at his hair as he stroked long, circular sweeps into my clit. “Michael, I don’t want to come yet. Please.”

He didn’t respond, instead pushing the backs of my thighs up until I was folded in half, and Michael gave a real meaning to the term ‘eating out.’ Jolts shot like lightning bolts across my thighs as sloppy, laving swipes turned to crude, obscene slurps that seemed to fill my ears. He was devouring me, his fingers pistoning back and forth and not once did he miss my sweet spot. Wet, carnal noises filled the air, his palm slapping softly against my lips as his mouth fastened over my clit. The hard sucks and the wiggle of his tongue was driving me insane, my head falling back and my nails scraping over his shoulders as I held him as close as possible.

“You taste like fuckin’ pineapples.” Detaching himself, he rested his forehead on my pubic bone, breath fanning across the spit-slicked nub that was swollen and throbbing as my orgasm began to ascend to its peak.

His fingers sped up, nudging against my spot until I was just one or two caresses from exploding, before he abruptly slipped them away from me.

“No, no, no, no, fuck, no!” I groaned, pushing his head down to try and get his mouth back on me. “I was gonna come, I was gonna come.” I whined, frustration building in my bones as I moved my fingers down to roll against my clit.

“You said you didn’t want to!” He growled, catching my hands before I could abuse myself any more, moving up to pin them by my head. “And I want the first time you come tonight to be with me, okay?”

His lips brushed against my cheek as he spoke, my breath catching in my lungs as I lifted my head from the pillows to catch his lips. It wasn’t the first time Michael and I had kissed; there was that time when we were seven and we played pretend wedding, and that other time when he was getting teased and I had sucked his lips to make his classmates envious. But this was different, this was a kiss filled with lust, his teeth nipping at my lip until I parted just for him. We breathed one another, our fingers slotting together and our tongues sliding against each other.

He shivered when I dipped my fingers beneath his shirt, my fingertips tracing the bumps of his spine as I dragged the fabric up to his neck. I watched him in awe as he pulled away, leaning back on his knees as he crossed his arms, tugging the old Metallica shirt over his head and tossing it haphazardly to the floor. Nervous breaths left his kiss-bruised lips as I popped the button on his jeans, dragging his boxers down with them as I pushed them slowly down his thighs until he could kick them off. He simpered when I pushed him down onto his back, my palms flat against the milky skin of his broad chest.

Naked Michael was my new favourite piece of art, with a chest of creamy white that was perfect for love bites, and little pink nipples that would love the attention of my tongue. Ridges of ribs, a bump on the fourth one down from the time he fell off a swing and snapped it clean in half. His midriff was fleshy, soft to the touch, and peppered with dark down that trailed south to his pubic hair. He had juts for hipbones, his left one branded with a tiny triangle that matched the one behind my ear, and muscular thighs that I couldn’t wait to kiss. And then his cock, thick and the colour of peaches, rested on his stomach. It was dribbling desperately onto his skin, beads of pre-come trailing across his stomach where it jumped at my touch, and it was flushed cherry red at the tip.

“You have a pretty cock.” I praised, and his lips parted as I did. A shocked gasp whistled through his teeth as I trailed my fingertip from the ridge beneath the head, all the way down to the curls of hair at the base. “Do you mind if I get a taste, now?”

He shook his head, settling back against the pillows as I pressed a kiss to his chin. I wanted this to be all about Michael, now, and I wanted him to lose his virginity being treated like a prince. Soft breaths left his lips, his muscles relaxing as I trailed kisses across his jaw, searching for that sweet little spot that would send him dizzy. He was silent until I found it, a short mewl meeting my ears as I sucked a love bite into the skin beneath his jaw, just above the column of his throat. His hands fell to my hips, thumbs running gently over the skin as I littered his neck with pretty little marks.

He moaned when my tongue flicked over his nipple, rolling the pink nub with my lips and coaxing the most beautiful sounds from his throat. Responsive, he was, wailing quietly as I kissed across his chest and left trails of love bites on his flesh. I nipped at his skin until he was completely relaxed, his eyes shut and his breath moving almost silently through his nose. Gentle swipes of his fingers across my sides were the only thing to tell me that he was still awake, revelling in the touch of my lips as they pressed red hickeys into the softness of his stomach.

His cock twitched as I lapped up the smears of pre-come from below his bellybutton, my ears straining to listen as he let out a deep sigh. Hips barely rolling off the bed, I nibbled on the bones until that tiny tattoo was circled with fresh, pink bruises, and left tepid kisses on his thighs. When I finally pressed a kiss to his cock, he squeezed his lips together in a close-mouthed moan that resonated the blood in my veins.

“I’m gonna treat you well, okay, Mikey?” I leaned up, awestruck by the sight of him as he nodded slowly, his eyelashes fluttering as he tilted his head back. With his cheeks tainted pink and his lips plump, Michael was my favourite thing to look at. “And Mike?”

“Yeah?” He moved his hand, resting it on his belly as he tilted his head to listen.

“You are the most beautiful thing,” I started, closing the distance between us as I pressed a hot kiss to his shaft. “You are so pretty,” I enticed a tiny moan from him as I meekly wrapped my fingers around him. “So, so gorgeous.” Slipping my mouth gently over the head, I relished the whimpers and squeaks that tumbled from his parted lips.

Michael was still relaxed, one hand resting on his sternum as the other teased at the creases in the sheets. He didn’t move a muscle, not one, as I lapped kisses into his ridge, and left not one inch of his cock unkissed as I moved down. Michael was the complete and utter definition of a good boy, holding still as I suckled and teased at his veins. He barely broke, only lifting his hips barely an inch off the bed before I pressed my palm against his tattoo and took him right into my mouth.

A deep, heavy moan reverberated through his chest as I laved my tongue against his underside, my lips stretching over his girth and my cheeks hollowing. His fingers tightened in the sheets, his head rolling back as he nestled deep in my throat. I barely registered my actions, rolling my tongue over his veins as I retreated my head, only to sink him back into my throat like an anchor.

“Fuck,” He let out quietly, so quiet I almost couldn’t hear him, followed by a sigh that I could only think was of content. “This feels…” He trailed off, moving his leg as he began to fidget, squirming as I flicked my tongue over all of his most sensitive places. I could taste him on my tongue already, leaking like a broken faucet with my tongue sweeping over his slit. When my fingers curled around the root, his tongue peeked out from behind his lips to rest on his upper, and he let out a gravelly moan that shook my core when I began to stroke him. “This…”

My fingers were paired with my mouth, coaxing all of my new favourite sounds from his throat as he was buried in mine. His pretty cock fit perfectly in my mouth, the tip brushing against the column of muscles that contracted around his length each and every time. And when I looked up at him again, he was a mess. His soft features were slack, his neck arched back as he rolled his head, and his pillows nested around him to muffle his moans. But it wasn’t that, it was the redness of his cheeks that had flushed to cherry, roaming down his jugular, and the way his nose was wrinkled like it was when he laughed.

“I love your mouth, this feels…” He trailed off again, his spine lifting off the bed as I sucked particularly hard on his head. Droplets of come were oozing from the tip, bittersweet on my tongue, and his fingers finally weaved their way into my hair to guide me the way he liked. “…so, so good.”

My hands moved to either of his hips to steady myself as he pushed me down, right to the base, and stuttered out a broken moan as I choked quietly on him, guiding me up just to sink me right down again. The way his body responded was worth the tears that sprung to my eyes, and I cherished the sound of my name as it left his lips in breathless whimpers.

“I think I’m gonna…” With another unfinished sentence, Michael pressed under my jaw until I lifted away from him, giving him one last, tongue-filled suckle before I moved back up the bed. “Shit,” He chuckled softly, hands dropping back to my hips as he sat himself up, his back flat against the headboard. “Can we take a breather for a minute, I still feel like I’m gonna come and I want this to be good for both of us.” He looked down, his eyelashes fluttering as he avoided my gaze. I knew what he was doing, and I wasn’t fond of him hiding himself away from me.

“Hey, look at me,” I rested my fingers on the hinge of his jaw, lifting his chin and waiting for him to gain the confidence to open his pretty eyes again. They weren’t terrifying at all, shades of broken green stars spilling into striking yellow comets and shimmering blue constellations, with pupils that were scattered with clouds from the sky. “You have galaxies in your eyes. Please, don’t hide them from me.”

I didn’t know exactly what Michael could see - he had always described it as a fog and shadows that were barely shadows - but there was nothing I wanted Michael to see more than his own eyes. His own eyes, and da Vinci’s art.

“I won’t.” He promised, a little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I, uh, I think I’m okay.”

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” I breathed, but I really hoped he wanted to do this as much as I did. He nodded, dipping his tongue out to wet his lips as I lifted myself a little, looping an arm over his shoulder and around his neck and pressing my mouth closed tight when I began to sink him in.

He choked slightly, his nose brushing against mine as his breath poured out of his lungs only to be sucked straight back in. His jaw dropped slack, hands running over my thighs to guide me down until I was fully seated atop him. When I was, I leaned into him with my bare chest flush against his, holding the back of his head as I kissed him with everything I had. I had never felt so full, burning as I stretched around him, and he was so deep inside me that it would be hard to ever find a comparison. I loved Michael with all my heart; he was my best friend, and I couldn’t have been happier to have him trust me like this.

Our kisses were all teeth and tongue, trying our hardest to get closer and closer but there wasn’t even room to slip a piece of paper between us. My hands were tangled in his hair, pulling the way I did when I was lulling him to sleep. Soft, heavy groans rumbled his chest, and by now his hands were pawing at my ass and pushing me to move.

“Go slow, go slow.” He mumbled, resting his temple against my cheek as I slowly lifted up and inch or so. “Shit.” He keened, his lips brushing against my ear and his voice branding itself on my brain. “You’re so, so warm.”

When I rolled my hips down again, his cock hit that perfect spot that sent rushes of tingles to my toes. I then came to the conclusion that I loved Michael’s cock, with its perfect curve and its warmth. He fit me so well, and he was so, so deep inside me that I wanted him buried there forever. All I could think about was how he felt when I ground down, how he was pressed so tight against me that I could feel his balls against my thighs.

“Fuck,” I whined, lifting up and sinking own, lifting up and sinking down. There were jolts of pure pleasure, and I had never felt this good with anybody else. He wasn’t even touching my clit, and I was already close to bursting. “Such a nice cock…” I trailed off, huffing out when his nose brushed down the column of my jugular, his lips leaving wet, stinging bites behind.

“Does it always feel this good?” He groaned, fingertips pressing so hard into my thighs that I was sure there would be bruises in the morning.

“No,” I tilted my head, leaning back on my hands as I began to really roll my hips, finding the perfect angle. I let out a wild moan that I swore I’d never, ever made before, as his cock speared right into my g-spot. “Mikey, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Fuck me, please, I want-” He whimpered, clawing at my ass and gently lifting me, pushing me back down, and then up again.

I followed his lead, holding onto his shoulders as I rode him. I would move up until just his tip was nestled between my walls, and drop quickly until he was a moaning mess. Never had I ridden before, but this, this was absolute euphoria. I could feel his rubbing against my walls and pistoning so deep that I’m sure he was touching my cervix, and I never, ever wanted this to end. Wet, crude noises filled the room like the smell of sex, and it wasn’t long before Michael was muttering that he was close.

“Come with me, please. Come with me.” He moaned, his mouth open against my throat and his hands moving up to my back to hold my chest against his and fuck, just the feel of his breath on my collarbone was enough to make me want to come.

“M’ clit,” I got out, and immediately his finger was delving between my folds, following the rhythm of my hips as I once again slowed down to a gentle roll that I knew would drive us both insane.

“I’m gonna come, please, please, fuck, yes.” He growled, and jolts shot through me as he started to rub sloppy, slow circles into my clit. “So tight, so warm, I love how you feel.”

I could feel it building now, as his cock nudged against my sweet spot and rubbed against my walls. It was like a thousand ropes were tied around my pelvis, tugging and pulling and tightening until they were close to snapping. Delicious, deep rubs to my clit sent me over the end, my muscles clamping down on him as he sucked in a breath. I was milking him, bliss falling over the both of us as we came, me in a cacophony of breathless moans, and Michael in short, hot spurts that filled me to the brim.

His voice cracked, and his muscles clenched as he threw his head back. He looked so fucking beautiful, his jaw popped open and his shoulders spasming, that wrinkle that I adored so much appeared on his nose and his eyes squeezed shut. His grasp on my hips was almost like a vice, holding me in place as his cock spilled warmth into me and as my muscles continued to milk him until he was empty.

“God, can we go again?” He moaned, pushing my hips so they ground down on him, but he immediately stopped as my walls contracted at the movement.

“Fuck, again?” I moaned, feeling him begin to go soft even though he was still buried to the hilt.

“I’ve never had an orgasm like that, I just, I-” He whined as I moved back, the action causing him to slip out of me. I fought the urge to moan, both of our juices sliding down my thighs and onto his sheets. I felt so empty, and I felt some insane longing to have him back inside me. Immediately. “Fuck, I’m so glad you were my first.”

“I’m glad I was too,” I smiled softly at him, worn out and slumped against the headboard as he purred like a little kitten. “Netflix and pizza? And then maybe later you can fill me right up again.”

“I like the sound of that.” He grinned, reaching over to his bedside table to find the leaflet for his favourite pizza parlour.

anonymous asked:

can you write something like "five times the losers clu almost found out about richie and eddie's relationship and one time they actually did"

Yes! Surely. (also this is aged up. They’re around 17 in this)

Five times the losers club almost found out about Richie and Eddie’s realtionship and one time they actually did. 

The first time it was their own fault. They were all at Bill’s house for a sleepover and Richie and Eddie had just started dating a couple of weeks ago. They kept it a secret for the rest of the losers because they weren’t sure how they’d react. Also they both found it a little exciting to sneak off and fool around in secret. 
So they were at the sleepover. It had been a few days since Richie and Eddie had been together because Eddie had had a lot of tests in school and Richie had been out of town to visit some family. So naturally they’d missed eachother. They’d been exchanging glances and teasing whispers all night and when the other losers finally went to bed they snuck off to the bathroom. 
So there they were, Richie sitting on the toilet seat, Eddie in his lap, hands tangled in eachother’s hair. Eddie was planting kisses down Richie’s neck making Richie let out heavy, shaky breaths. 
“God Eds I love when you do that”, he whispered making Eddie smile and suck down on Richie’s neck. Until someone pulled the door handle and Eddie flew off of Richie’s lap. Luckily they’d locked the door. 
“I’m sorry”, Mike’s voice sounded from outside the door and the two boys looked at eachother panicked. Richie then stood up and unlocked the door, meeting Mike’s confused face as he saw that both Richie and Eddie were in there. 
“Hey Mike my man. What’re you doing up?”, Richie asked and ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Eddie. 
Mike looked puzzled and gestured at the toilet. 
“I uhm. I needed to pee. What’re you doing out here?”, he asked and looked at Eddie. Both boys looked at eachother and Richie then spoke. 
“Eds here needed to pee but he was too scared to go alone and I was awake so I went with him”, he explained and Mike nodded slowly. 
“Ok then. Well. If you’re done here, I’ll do my buisness”, he said and Richie and Eddie nodded and quickly made their way out of there. 

The second time it was Ben. Eddie and Richie were at Richie’s house just hanging out the two of them. They were home alone so they didn’t think about locking any doors or be careful. They were making out in Richie’s bed and Eddie had taken off Richie’s t-shirt so he was shirtless. Eddie was sitting on top of Richie and Richie’s hands were everywhere on Eddie. Comic books where spread on the bed around them as they’d been in the middle of reading those. 
Eddie got off the bed to turn up the volume of the music at some point and right as he reached the recordplayer the door to Richie’s bedroom swung open and there stood Ben. When he noticed Richie laying on the bed shirtless, hair all messed up and out of breath and Eddie standing in the other end of the room, his shirt untucked and his hair a mess as well he looked startled. 
Richie shot up from the bed and looked at him surprised. 
“Fuck, Ben what are you doing here?”, he asked and grabbed his t-shirt from the floor. 
“I came to see if you wanted to watch a movie. The door was unlocked. What’re you doing?”. Ben looked confused as his eyes darted between Eddie and Richie. 
Richie just laughed and sat down on the bed again. 
“We were just having a dance off and it got kinda warm”, he shrugged once again impressed by how fast Richie was to come up with excuses. Ben looked over at Eddie and Eddie just nodded. They ended up watching a movie despite Richie being pissed that they were interrupted. 

Third time it was Stan. Richie and Eddie was at this local diner drinking milkshakes and eating fries. They were holding hands across the table, as they were sat kinda isolated. 
“Wanna come over to my place after? My moms not home”, Eddie asked and Richie nodded with a wink that made Eddie’s cheeks heat up. He looked down at their intertwined fingers and smiled softly before grabbing another fry. 
“Cool. I just finished a book I think you’d like”, Eddie said and Richie softly stroked Eddie’s hand with his thumb. 
“Great. I finshed the other one and now I don’t know what to do”. 
Eddie had gotten Richie into reading, borrowing him books everytime he’d finished them. Richie had never thought he’d be into reading but he actually really liked it. 
They were just talking about everything and nothing, feeding eachother fries, being dorky boyfriends when someone slammed their hands on their table. They both jumped and looked up to see Stan with a huge grin on his face. 
“Gotcha. You’re so jumpy, jesus”. He grabbed a fry and then glanced at his friends’ hands. Eddie noticed and quickly turned Richie’s hand around so that his palm was up.
“No wonder we’re jumpy I was just telling Richie how he’s going to get brutally murdered in the future, reading his palm”, he said and traced his finger over one of the lines in Richie’s palm. Stan snorted and grabbed another fry. 
“Did you tell him that I’m going to be the murder?”. He then looked at Richie. 
“You promised me to take a look on my car dude, I need it tomorrow”, he said and Richie sighed. 
“Shit, I forgot. I’ll come over later and take a look. I’m bringing Eddie though, he knows more about it if it’s the engine”. Stan nodded and grabbed three more fries. 
“Cool. See you later guys”. Then then walked off, leaving the two boys looking at eachother relieved. Once again they’d lied their way out of a situation like this. 

Bill was next. Eddie and him were hanging out at the park. Eddie had brought a book and Bill had brought his sketchbook and they were just relaxing enjoying eachother’s company in silence. Eddie’s phone then vibrated but he ignored it. Bill grabbed it though and unlocked it. 
“You have a snap from Richie. I’m gonna open it”, he said and it took a few seconds for Eddie to react. 
“No!”, he said but it was too late. Bill had opened it and the look on his face told Eddie that it was indeed what he had feared. His face went white and he wanted to bury himself. Not just because it was an embarrassing situation but also because Bill had now knew that Richie was in a mood and that made him uncomfortable. See Richie liked to send slightly offensive pictures. Eddie wasn’t complaining and it wasn’t often but every once in a while he would send one and Eddie would blush and send a black picture back. 
“Dude that was his hand in his pants”, Bill then said and looked at Eddie horrified. Eddie grabbed his phone from Bill’s hand and rolled his eyes. 
“He probably sent it wrong. He sometimes does that because me and some girl keeps switching places on his best friend list. He’s never sent me an offensive one before though”, Eddie said, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He pretended to open another snap from Richie. 
“He already apologized”. Bill didn’t ask more and Eddie changed his passcode to his phone. 

Bev was the last one to almost find out about them. She and Richie were hanging out at Richie’s house just talking about stupid shit. 
“Richie?”, she then asked and Richie looked up from the book he was reading. 
“Why are you smiling like that? Are you reading a sex scene?”, she asked and Richie rolled his eyes. Eddie always put notes in the books he borrowed Richie and they always said something cheesy such as: I bet you look cute right now or yay you made it this far, you must like the book. This is my favorite part it reminds me of you. Richie loved it. He was smiling because he’d just reached one of those notes. 
“Yeah, Marsh”, he just answered and closed the book. She laughed and then stood up and started looking through some of his stuff. He didn’t think much of it and just started checking different social media. 
“What’s this?”, she then asked and Richie looked up. She was holding a polaroid picture and Richie got up to see. 
It was a picture of him and Eddie. Richie was kissing Eddie’s cheek and Eddie’s eyes were closed and he was grinning. Richie took it from her and put it between the pages of the book. 
“That’s just me teasing the spaghetti man”, he shrugged and sat down again. Bev didn’t look convinced.
“It didn’t look like teasing to me”. Richie just shook his head and looked at his phone again. 
“Not in the moment. He kicked me over the shin afterwards”. She still didn’t look convinced but he let it go and plopped down on the bed again. 

The sixth time they were at a party. Eddie was kinda tipsy, dancing around with Bev and Stan and Richie was sitting in a couch with Bill, Mike and Ben. Richie kept sneaking glances at Eddie to check up on him now and then. He looked amazing when he let loose like that. He then look at Mike as he said something. After a while he looked towards Eddie again just to see some dude grabbing him by his hands and pulling him into him. Eddie was visibily uncomfortable and was trying to pull away but asshat kept going. This pissed Richie off and he got up and hurried over there. 
“Hey dude. What are you doing? Don’t you see he’s not into it. Let him go”, he yelled and pushed the dude away by his chest. The guy raised and eyebrow and laughed mockingly. 
“Yeah? I think he can speak for himself”. He tried to push past Richie but Richie just pushed him back again. 
“No doubt he can, but now I’m doing it for him, leave him the fuck alone asshole”. The other losers had gathered behind Richie now, watching as the guy threw a punch at Richie, hitting him in the face. Mike and Bill were quick to grab the guy and pull him away as Ben grabbed Richie to stop him from lounging at the guy. Richie had never been a good fighter so this was the best thing to do. Eddie was in front of Richie in no time, inspecting his face. 
“Jesus Rich. Come with me to the bathroom”. He then started pulling Richie to the bathroom to clean up his bloody nose. They didn’t lock the door and Richie sat down on the toilet while Eddie wet some paper. 
“Why did you do that you clown?”, Eddie sighed and got down on his knees in front of Richie, dabbing away the blood. Richie just shrugged and placed his hand in Eddie’s neck. 
“Because the dude was disrespecting you”. Eddie rolled his eyes and then cupped Richie’s face in his hands. 
“Thank you. I love you”. He then pressed his lips to Richie’s softly, but Richie was quick to develop it into a makeout session. Eddie didn’t care about the blood as he placed himself on Richie’s lap. Then the door swung open, catching them off guard. 
The losers were stood outside of the door looking at them with wide eyes.
Stan was the first to speak.
“I fucking knew it. Palm reading my bare ass”. He then walked out of there. Mike just grinned at highfived Richie. 
“Nice man. By the way. I know Eddie is now afraid to go to the bathroom alone”. 
Eddie had no idea what to do. Richie just shrugged though and placed a kiss to his cheek. 
“Well. I guess it’s official now”. 
Bev laughed. 
“We knew. Ben you owe me five bucks”. Ben sighed as he pulled out some money from his pocket and handed it to Bev. They left with Mike, leaving Bill alone. 
“Guys…. That means that the picture wasn’t an accident…”. Eddie blushed and Richie scratched his neck. 
“I’m never fucking opening other peoples’ messages again”. He then left too and Eddie looked down at Richie with a small smile. Of course they were ok with it and they wasn’t sure why they’d been so secretive about it. 

The Kitchens

part iv

Remus felt trapped between elation and dread. Surely this didn’t mean what he hoped it did. He tried not to let himself get his hopes up, and yet, thinking of it now from the safety of his hard, flat bed, he could hardly help himself. He held the hand Sirius had grasped so tightly up in front of him, only seeing the very faint outline of it in the moonlight. Sirius had held his hand. He’d taught him to dance, barefoot in the forest, like they were old friends. Even lovers, Remus dared to think. He’d brought him chocolates. He’d invited him tomorrow…

Why me?

Remus thought the question over and over again. Sirius no doubt had a host of friends to choose from. Not to mention James who, if all else failed, had to be at the top of the list.

Does he hold James’ hand?

It was a stupid question. Of course he didn’t. James liked Lily. Sirius liked… Remus closed his eyes.

He could have been drunk?

Remus let his hand fall back on his chest, exasperated. It seemed to be the only logical explanation, although he really had seemed quite steady. Drunk men don’t dance like that. But, then again, he’d come to Remus right under his mother’s nose. But maybe that was Sirius, maybe that’s how he is. Reckless and daring, like the princes in the fairytales. Remus gulped. When all the other boys had talked of princesses to save, he’d always preferred thinking of the prince. Privately, of course.

He wasn’t drunk. Remus knew this. So what? Why?

The answer Remus wanted to hear streamed to the front of his mind, although he never quite let himself fully believe it. He wanted to believe that Sirius had felt it too, what he had felt in the kitchen that evening, in the clearing just a half hour ago. That he had felt the very same draw of the other; to the heat of skin, the pressure of hands, the uneven breaths. Remus closed his eyes and felt it all again, but as a memory. It wasn’t the same. He wanted tomorrow to come. He fell asleep thinking of warm hands and mischievous eyes.


Sirius’ breathing was shallow as his mother led him back inside, into a private room, away from the lights of the party. She was wordless, only her shoes scuffing against the stone floor, muffled only by her long dress and cape. She had worn her crown, as she always, always did, and it did not move on her head, her neck like an unyielding column. Her silence made Sirius fear the worst. As soon as the door were closed however, the silence was broken. And in the worst way.

The smack of skin against skin rang through the room and Sirius’ head snapped to the left. He felt the sting of her rings slice the delicate skin that covered his cheek bone and he bit his tongue so as not to cry out.

It was worth it. He told himself, Remus. He is worth this.

Where were you?” His mother’s voice was murderously calm, “Answer me.”

Sirius tasted blood, “My apologies-“

Smack. This time the rings cut downwards, catching on his lip and splitting it wide. Sirius felt something wet on his chin but still, he did not fall.

Answers.” His mother’s voice was more growl than woman.

“I got sidetracked. I did not realize the time. I ran into Lucius the nobleman and time wasted away to politics.”

The lies slid easily from his split lips.

Politics.” She spat, “You? You expect me to believe- You’ve just ruined what would have been an outstanding match for this family. Do you have any idea the power, the wealth that girl could have offered us-“

“Us?” Sirius shot back, “You wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with her!”

His mother’s lip curled, “You ungrateful, despicable-“

“My Queen.”

Sirius did not turn towards the messenger boy. He mustn’t see his bloodied face.

His mother straightened, face flattening to barely contained rage, “Speak.”

Sirius didn’t hear the message, only felt the glare in his direction and heard the door slam behind his mother as she followed the servant boy out.

As soon as he was alone he let himself fall. His knees hit the stone floor heavily, his wrists spiking with pain as the trembled with the effort to keep him somewhat upright. He breathed deeply, willing the swirling panic to cease.

She is gone, he told himself, she is gone now. He raised his hand to his face and his fingertips came back painted with thick red that dripped into the cracks on the stone floor.

Sirius pushed himself up, using the back passages to get to his room and locking himself in for the night, not ringing for James.

He stumbled his way into his bathroom, feeling almost terrified to look in the mirror. He hoped and prayed that the amount of blood was deceiving him, that it wasn’t as bad as it felt. He was let down at first glance.

His cheek was purpling and swollen, the bruise spreading towards the crescent of skin under his eye. It would be swollen half way shut by the morning. His lip was the same and grotesque. He cursed, taking a clean cloth to the basin of water and soaking it fully, bringing the coolness to his face. Then, turning without glancing in the mirror again, he fell into bed still clothed, with only one thought on his mind.

Remus cannot see.

Perhaps the reason behind this thought was also pride, but, for the most part, it felt like shame. A shame he had felt bloom in his chest regularly since he was a child. He would not show his face.


Remus woke the next morning with a headache, finding that the dread and hope that had come at Sirius’ request still were at war in his head. He tried to sensibly talk himself down from the hope side. The dread, if things went as he expected them to, would be easier to handle in the end. Hope doesn’t give into grief as easily as dread does. He told himself this as he punched in the day’s bread dough he had set to rise last night. It was four in the morning now. Noon. He had until noon.

Say it back so I know you’ll remember

How, how could he forget?

Remus pushed the heel of his palm into the cool dough, trying to focus on the repetitive motion. Pressing and folding, needing and punching. It only seemed to succeed in riling him further, allowing the emotion he truly wanted to suppress to bubble to the surface: excitement. He couldn’t allow it. He shouldn’t allow it. But as he stood, nimble fingers now twisting the brioche for breakfast into delicate twists and knots, it spread quickly through his chest. He wanted to meet Sirius. In fact, he wasn’t sure how he would be expected to wait nearly eight hours until then. He’d have to keep himself busy. He would start on the servant’s dinner after this. A stew would take the longest to prepare, and he’d let it simmer all day. The meat would be tender and it would take enough time to prepare. Then Mrs. Potter and the rest of the servants came down to prepare breakfast and wake the court. That would be at least another hour and a half of the blissful distraction of eggs and bacon, salmon and toast. Maybe he would offer to prepare the orange juice. No, too repetitive. He needed something that wasn’t mindless. He would do the eggs. He’d definitely have to focus then. He’d have to mind the heat and the consistency and then make sure they were still hot when they got sent up to-


Remus froze mid bread knot. He was always in charge of Sirius’ breakfast, there was no doubt today would be the same. Remus swallowed, an odd sort of thrill filling him that made it nearly impossible to keep the smile from his face. Maybe he could allow himself this. This small thing, this regular thing that now had a new world of connection. Sirius did know his breakfast came from Remus’ hands now. Maybe he could send up a note, tuck it into his napkin or under the plate where he would find it when he picked up his carefully placed fork. It was risky. It couldn’t be seen. But Remus couldn’t resist. He needed some little piece of his day among all this waiting to be dedicated to Sirius. He hated that a little bit. He would hide it well. No one needed to know.

He heard a creak from upstairs—Mrs. Potter—and tried his best to shake himself of his stupid grin, picking up the trays of bread for the oven.

Sirius woke to James accidentally rattling his breakfast tray and cursing.

“Shit. Sorry. You awake?”

Sirius opened his mouth without opening his eyes to respond with some sarcastic, not-so-charming remark but shut it firmly again when he felt the sharp sting of his split lip. He swallowed, opening his eyes—eye. One felt almost completely swollen shut. He hadn’t even thought to decline a wake up call. He usually was always so careful. He didn’t like James—anyone—to know if he could help it but, with James, he rarely could.

“Sirius,” James sing-songed, “Come on, mate. This is heavy.”

Sirius took a breath, then rolled over and sat up with as much dignity as he could manage. His eyes flickered to James’ face and he winced at the look on it. He knew how bad day old bruises looked.

“Morning,” He rasped shakily, “That for me?”

“Jesus…” James quickly sat the tray on Sirius’ thighs, then sat on the edge of the bed, warm fingers pressing to his jaw and tilting his face towards him to get a better look at his lip. His brows pulled together, “Jesus, Sirius.”

Sirius looked away, “My mother, actually.”

“This isn’t funny. Stop- god- I hate-“ James rose angrily from the bed, proceeding to pace across the fireplace opposite it, “She can’t just-“

“Actually she can.” Sirius sighed, “Unfortunately.”

James threw his hands out, exasperated, and gave a breathy, bitter laugh, “Unfortunately? Unfortunately? God, I cannot wait for her to croak and for you to-“

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a substitute for the smirk he knew would hurt too much, and unfolded his napkin, “Careful James.”

“No.” James was pacing more insistently now, “No, I know you don’t like to talk about it but…”

But Sirius was no longer listening, as a small bit of parchment had fluttered from the folds of his napkin and onto the sheets beside him. Instantly, his heartbeat sped with hope. His breakfast has never come with a note before, although, that was before he knew the maker. He glanced in James’ direction, making sure he was still talking (to himself) and unfolded the note. Sirius grinned. He couldn’t even feel the pain of his lip.

You taght me
to dance
Gess I have to teech you
to cook an egg now

Sirius ran his fingers over the messy scrawl. He read it again and again and again. The writing slanted to the left, it was nearly illegible. Clearly it had been written in rushed secrecy. Some words were spelled wrong and for that Sirius adored it even more. The double “e” in teach. The lack of “u” in taught and guess. He turned it over, hoping for more.

His smile fell.

He was not disappointed.

I have not forgotten

His heart warmed at the sentence, but his body went cold.

He cleared his throat, “James.”

James huffed, “I know, I know. I don’t have the training but just keep in mind that kings can do anything.” He paused, “Almost. Meaning you should absolutely feel free to make me part of your king’s guard. If you wanted. At any time.”

Sirius blinked. The lack of context caused a laugh to spring free and he suddenly partially wished he had been listening to the rant. James did like this conversation point quite a lot.

“And have to miss all of these useful conversations because you’re standing outside my door all day? I don’t think so. Fetch Pomfrey for me, would you? I want this to heal up quickly.” He squeezed the note in his hand, “As soon as possible.”

James sniffed, patting his heart, “That was almost nice.”

Fetch.” Sirius pointed his fork at the door, note clutched almost desperately in the other. He needed time he didn’t have. He closed his eyes when the door shut behind James. He felt it now, the shame from last night, in every spike of pain from his lip, in every pulse of blood in his eye. He felt it.


Remus tilted his chin up towards the noon sun greedily, almost thanking it for being so high in the sky. The long grasses of the south grounds tickled his ankles and the soles of his feet as he made his way to the lake Sirius had specified. He’d been once before with James and a few of his friends. A boy named Peter who seemed nice enough given the fact that he was to King Orion as James was to Sirius. It couldn’t be easy spending all that time with… that. Lily, the house maid, whom he liked very much and who he knew better now, had come along after much convincing from James. Her and James clearly doted on each other. He’d asked Lily about it once and she’d sent him to fetch some linens from the upstairs cupboard instead. Lily had brought a few of her friends along; sweet, quiet Alice and headstrong Marlene. They had been followed by some others, an equal mass of boys and girls—most of which eyed James the entire time with either jealousy or lust. Someone had brought wine and figs from the kitchens and it had turned into something of a party.

Remus dug his toes into the rocky sand of the shore. It was quieter now. He liked it better this way.

Remus looked back at the castle then down at himself. He had changed out of that morning’s shirt, but even this one looked ratty. Like everything else he owned, the seams were fraying and it was littered with untouchable stains.

Sirius would look good in even this.

He laughed softly to himself at the thought. He shouldn’t think it, but it was true. Sirius had looked good the first night, if not hopelessly tired and arrogant, in his maroon robe, the gold stitching glinting off his skin. He’d looked good barefoot, in only his billowing tie-up shirt and trousers, with fluffy post-swim hair. Remus wondered if he’d get to see that again today. And he’d looked good dressed in forest-like, velvety greens and browns, soft curls splaying around the tops of his ears. A prince ready to be presented to his subjects. Each memory was devastatingly imprinted in Remus’ thoughts. He wanted see what he would look like today, what new version he would be granted with.

Slightly breathless, Remus sat down on a warm patch of sand and waited, nerves and need coming threw in his drumming fingertips.

Remus waited.

And waited. And waited and waited. And Sirius didn’t come. And his heart got heavier with each fading degree of sunlight.

And Sirius didn’t come.

And he was right.

Grief doesn’t give easily into hope.


Remus doesn’t sleep for hours after he lays down. He can’t decide if he’s more angry or hurt. He thinks of the four hours he sat in the sand, back aching and hopes falling. Angry, he decides. Definitely angry. He should have known better, to be quite honest. A prince. Why would a prince ever, for a second want-

Remus closes his eyes, brow creasing. A play thing. A time passer. That’s what he was. He should have seen it earlier.

He must have fallen asleep, or at least dozed off, because he is lulled awake by his door creaking in very separate and short bursts. Like someone is trying to open it very, very slowly.

He’s alert in a moment, pushing up onto his elbows. The moonlight offers a silhouette but nothing more. Tall, broad shouldered.

“James? Who’s there?” His voice comes out softer and hoarser than he would have liked.

The figure lets out a breath and opens and closes the door in one swoop, leaning against it, “No. Does James often pay you midnight visits?“

What? “Sirius?”


Remus, in utter bewilderment, moves for the matches and candle on his bedside, when Sirius’ voice cuts him off.

“No, no don’t light your candle. Please.”

It sounds panicked, pleading. He’s never heard Sirius sound like that before.

“What? Sirius, why? What are you-“

“I’ve only come to apologize. That is all.”

Remus lowers his hands, not reaching anymore, and sighs. He thinks for a moment, before shifting to press his pillow to the headboard to sit against and looks back to Sirius’ outline against the door.

“Quite right, too.”

Sirius lets out a breath and—quite presumptuously—and to Remus’ great delight—comes and sits cross-legged at the end of Remus’ bed. The moonlight still does not reach his face.

“I had…something came up. As things do for someone like me. I didn’t know how to reach you.”

For someone like me. Always the constant reminder, even on accident.

“I’m missing the apology part.” Sirius let out a breath and Remus glared, not sure if he could see it or not, “I sat there for four hours, I’m not going to let you off easy-“

“I’m sorry. I am, Remus.”

The second time hearing his name from Sirius’ mouth had no less of an effect. Remus desperately hoped his own face was just as invisible to Sirius as Sirius’ was to him. He was sure it had softened quite a bit, even as he tries to knot together the last scraps of his anger.

“Well.” Remus stretches his legs out, remembering too late that Sirius is there. His toes press into  the warm skin of Sirius’ calves and he jerks back, bringing his knees to his chest. His heart has triple in speed, at least.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re sitting in the dark?”

Sirius ignores his question, “Your toes are freezing.”

Remus feels his cheeks burning, “It’s an odd request. To talk in the dark.”

“Don’t you have slippers?” It’s almost concern in his voice.

“No.” Remus huffs. He clearly isn’t going to get an answer, “No, Sirius, I don’t have slippers. There are more important things in life.”

“Not when one’s toes are cold, there aren’t.”

“What an interesting philosophy.” Remus can’t help but laugh.

And just like that. He isn’t angry anymore.

Sirius laughs too, then harder when Remus makes a startled noise at the warm fingers that are suddenly closing around his ankles, pulling them forward again.

“Wh- Sirius, what are you-“

“Christ, even your ankles are cold. Do you sleep under blankets at all?”

Remus, still startled by the fact that Sirius’ hands are still pressing softly into his skin, can barely choke out a response, “You know, this is getting borderline offensive again.”

He hears Sirius suck in a breath, “Oh. I didn’t mean it. I’m- I-“

“It’s okay.” And, in truth, Remus had been half joking, “You just said sorry, I won’t make you say it twice.”

Sirius is quiet for a moment more, then Remus straightens at something extraordinarily soft and extraordinarily warm encompassing his feet, first his left, then his right. He wiggles his toes, feeling some sort of fur slide against them, feels soft leather just below his ankles.

Slippers. Sirius’ slippers.

“Any better?” Sirius says softly. His palms are still resting on the tops of Remus’ feet, warming where the shoes don’t reach.

Remus swallows thickly, nodding before he realizes they are still in the dark.

“Yes.” He croaks out, “These are… warm. My room is always cold. ”

“That’s terrible.” Sirius sighs, like it’s the worst thing in the world. Maybe to him, it is.

“I manage.” Sirius probably doesn’t have a clue what it’s like to manage, “Aren’t you cold now?”

“No.” Sirius says, and Remus realizes that they’re both whispering now, “No, not at all.”

It should be strange, sitting there like that in the dark, but all Remus feels is an overwhelming sense of comfort. He doesn’t understand it, he doesn’t know why Sirius is here. He doesn’t understand why they’re sitting in the dark or why Sirius is touching him so calmly. The contact alights something in him, he can’t deny it. It warms him almost as quickly as the slippers had. He presses his hands to his thighs, feeling safe, feeling unsteady. He wants to want this more than anything.

Push it down, leave it be.


“Hm?” Sirius’ voice came out just as strained as his, quiet among the silence that surrounded them. His thumbs were rubbing softly over the tops of Remus’ feet, pressing into the bone of his ankle. Remus didn’t know if Sirius realized he was doing it, but he never wanted him to stop.

“Are you going to tell me why we’re sitting in the dark?” He asks gently.

“No.” Sirius says it back just as gently.

Remus hesitates, then gives into his instinct. Sirius didn’t seem to have any problem with contact so why should he? He scoots forward, very careful to keep his feet where they are. His knees press up to his chest again and he rests his hands atop of Sirius’. He feels Sirius let out a breath across his cheek, and realizes how close they are. He can still see almost nothing. Maybe a slope of a nose, the part of lips.

Forget his mind screams it at him but he can barely hear it. Not when Sirius is right there.


“Hm?” More strained now.

“Are you alright?”

Sirius didn’t respond for a long while, and Remus didn’t push. He let Sirius mull through his thoughts in his own time. When he finally did speak, he turned his palms up first, fingers looping around Remus’ palms, thumbs pressing into the pulse points on his wrists. Remus hoped he couldn’t feel how hard his heart was beating.

“Where are you from?”

Remus almost protested against the change of subject, but the tone in Sirius’ voice was just enough to make him let Sirius lead him where he wanted.

“Right here.” He said, “The village.”

Sirius was quiet for a moment again and Remus pictured him nodding thoughtfully, his thumbs had started running slowly over the insides of Remus’ wrists, “What did your father do?”

Remus focused on Sirius’ soft touch and closed his eyes, making the darkness even darker, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Remus took a deep breath, “No. I grew up in the orphanage. I was put there when I was three years old but, I don’t know, it’s all I remember.”


Remus recognizes the familiar tone and risks giving Sirius’ hands a little squeeze. He notes how natural it feels. He hadn’t expected Sirius to let this linger so long, but neither of them seemed to want to pull away.

“It isn’t the sob story you’re thinking of right now.” He assures Sirius, “My family was poor. They realized they couldn’t raise me. The orphanage said I was barely alive when I arrived. It was a good thing.” He said it like lines from a play, lines he’d said over and over to anyone who looked concerned. It wasn’t a long list of people.

“You grew up without a family.” Sirius’ voice sounds off through the darkness. He’s holding Remus’ hands tighter now, even pulling a little towards him. Remus wants so badly to give into that pull.

“Yes, and no. You learn to make families along the way. Home doesn’t always have to be blood, you know.”

“I hate my blood.” Sirius’ voice is hushed and fierce, “I’m not allowed, but I do.”

Remus was slightly taken aback by this statement. He somewhat knew Sirius’ thoughts on his parents—his mother, at least—but to say that he hated his blood, so boldly… That implied he hated who he was. He didn’t expect that from Sirius. He wants so badly to see his face right now, to see his eyes as he let the forbidden phrase slip. Remus thought for a moment, “Maybe you’re not allowed to show it, but they can’t really do anything about what your heart says, can they?”

Sirius’ voice comes after a slight pause, and when it does, there’s an unbearable note of hopelessness to it, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“You should be.” Remus says simply. He doesn’t know if Sirius realizes how much meaning that phrase holds.

Sirius’ hands relax into Remus’. Remus didn’t even dare twitch a finger in case he pulled away.

I want to kiss you. He could map out each small motion it would take to reach that goal.

Remus bit hard into his tongue. His mind would think little else. Forgetforgetfor-

“I visited once, you know. That orphanage.”

Remus swallows, “I know.”

“Mum made me walk around all proper, nodding and waving. She thought going would make me appear… I don’t know, like I’d make a good king someday. Kind. Not that she’d know much about that.” Sirius’s silhouette visibly stiffened, “I mean…I think it just made the kids hate me. I probably looked so…” Sirius sighed, “I don’t know. Actually, come to think of it, you must have been there when I went.”

Remus lets out a breath, “I was.”

“Do you remember?” Sirius’ voice almost sounded excited, “Did you see me?”

Yes. And you saw me.

Why, did you really expect him to remember?

Remus nodded, “Yeah, I remember. We, well, we actually spoke.” He feels Sirius’ fingers tense in his own and he pushes on, “It wasn’t much. I mean, we didn’t say much…”

Sirius doesn’t respond and Remus can picture him racking his brain, trying to place this conversation.

“You were just plain rude, honestly.” Remus laughs somewhat nervously.

Sirius lets out a similar sound, “What else is new?” Then a few moments later, “What did we speak of?”

Remus let out another hushed laugh, “You told me that I looked like the living dead,” Remus hesitated a moment at Sirius’ intake of breath, “and… I told you that you were probably right. And that was it. You got pulled away.”

“Well.” Sirius shifted his fingers along Remus’ knuckles and somehow Remus knew he was looking down in the direction of their hands, “Turns out you’ve been out smarting me since before I can even remember, then.”

Remus can hear his smile and god, I want to see your face.

“Yeah,” he says softly, “turns out.”

Remus wished the sky would lighten. Even a little. Then again he didn’t. Because that would mean time passing and he wasn’t sure he would mind staying in this moment for a little longer, hands warm, feet warm, head foggy with Sirius’ presence, his touch.

“Did you enjoy the rest of the party then?” He needed to distract himself.

Sirius let out a breathy laugh, “Not particularly, no. Did you?”

Remus shook his head in the darkness, “Not particularly. Not as fun dancing alone.”

Sirius let out a snort, “Were you practicing by yourself?”

“You’re the one who refused to give me another go!” Remus smiled into the dark.

Sirius laughed again, a sound that ended with a strange hiss, as if he had been stung or burned by something, then regained its humor quickly. One hand briefly leaving Remus’, then settled back palm to palm. Remus knit his eyebrows.

“Right. We’ll just have to do it again some time.”

Remus’ heart jumped, “Won’t be ditching me this time, will you?”

“No, no definitely not.” Sirius’ laugh ended with the same intake of breath as before, “I swear it.”

Remus’ brows pulled lower. He stayed quiet, mind slowly working. Something was wrong. He’d been distracted before, but something was off. he could hear it in Sirius’ words, how he said them carefully, gingerly even.

“You didn’t fall asleep on me, did you?” Sirius voice came a few moments later, “Because, honestly-“

“Are you hurt?” Remus cut in.

It would make sense. No lights, the hiss that sounded like it hurt whenever he laughed. He’d heard Sirius make that noise the very first night he met him and burned his hand.

Sirius shifted, making the bed move, “What? No, what makes you say that?”

“You’re hiding something. You-“ Remus raised an eyebrow, proud of himself for figuring it out, “You didn’t want me to see something today, did you?”

“Remus.” Sirius’ voice was much more somber than before. He said his name like he was speaking to a subject, like it was a command. It made Remus angry and it made a shiver run down his spine at the same time, “Don’t. Drop this.”

“You are. You- Sirius, did someone-“

“I said drop it.” Sirius’ hands were suddenly gone from his own. It was an odd sensation. Remus knew he was still on the bed, right there, but not being able to feel him anymore put miles between them.

Remus pushed this time. He pushed because he didn’t think he could stand another period of silence. Not so soon. Not when he now knew what it was like to have Sirius’ breath on his cheek, his fingers on his skin.

“No, you know I can help-“

“I don’t need help-“ Sirius’ words were shaky, said between teeth.

“There’s no use lying to me-“

“I only came to apologize!“


Remus reached out blindly, pressing a hand over Sirius’ mouth to stop his voice from ringing around the room and reaching through the walls. Sirius flinched at the contact, biting back a groan and turning his face away. Remus felt the soft skin of his cheek run under his fingers. He felt his lips.. just for a moment. They both froze, breathing quickly.

“I know. And you have.” Remus said between breaths, hand falling slowly to rest on Sirius’ shoulder. Anything to feel him there again, “Please. Just let me see. I won’t,” Remus cut Sirius’ protests off, “I won’t ask questions if you don’t want me to.”

He could feel the rise and fall of Sirius’ chest.

“Please, Sirius.”

He felt the nod.

Remus leaned away just long enough to grab his candle, and struck the match.

“God.” The word was soft and sad. Sirius’ face was the same in the yellow glow of the fire, but littered with angry blackish bruises. One eye was swollen and blackened, making the delicate skid underneath it the color of summer plums. Dried blood made angry red lines the crevices of cracked skin. His lip looked raw and aching. Remus swallowed, hurting at the sight, “Who-“

“You said no questions.” Sirius said quietly, not meeting Remus’ eyes.

Remus’ heart ached at the look on Sirius’ face. He looked… ashamed. He looked embarrassed. Had he been beaten in a fight? Is that what he did in his spare time? Remus tried to push down his dislike at this notion. He didn’t know anything. He shouldn’t assume. He nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. No questions.” He looked a moment more before sliding off the bed and turning back to Sirius who still hadn’t moved, “Come with me, yeah?”

The kitchen lit up when they walked in, Remus’ candlelight reflecting off the various pots and pans that hung from the ceiling racks. It threw Sirius’ beaten face into a harsher contrast and Remus winced, quickly setting the light down and moving to the cupboards. From the corner of his eye he saw Sirius move to lift himself onto the counter and stopped him.

“I’ll sit there, you stand.” Sirius blinked at him and Remus turned away so Sirius would miss the flush that crossed his cheeks at his next words, “That way we’ll be level.”

“Oh. Right.” Remus could hear the threatening smirk behind his words. Only Sirius would take such pleasure in his height.

When Remus turned back around Sirius was leaning patiently against the countertop, arms crossed, and heavy lidded gaze trained on Remus. His eyes flickered downward to the flower in his hand,

“Oh. Pomfrey used that on me. Earlier today.” Sirius picked up one of the small pinkish flowers, “What is it?”

Remus smiled a little, pleased at knowing something Sirius didn’t, “It’s called Comfrey. Helps with swelling. Some people call it bone-knitter too. Does miracles for broken fingers, I’ll tell you that.”

“Bone-knitter.” Sirius said thoughtfully, “Sounds like something one of my cousins would name their sword.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, “Which kind?”

Sirius snorted then winced and brought a finger to his lip, “The metal kind. Fiend.” Sirius grinned when he caught Remus’ eye.

“You wouldn’t name your sword that?” Remus started ripping the petals up.

Sirius scoffed, but sounded slightly embarrassed, “I don’t name my swords.”

“Hm. I don’t believe you.”

Sirius laughed and bumped Remus’ shoulder with his.

Remus smiled too, more because Sirius was smiling than at his own joke. He reached across the table for the granite mortar, dragging it towards him and dropping the torn petals in.

“What’s that do?” Sirius was right over his shoulder now, his breath on his neck.

“It grinds it up.” Remus cleared his throat, trying to rid his voice of the nervous tremor, “So I can make a paste and get the healing..”

“Properties.” Sirius supplied.

“Properties.” Remus sent him a small smile, trying to ignore the embarrassed twinge in his cheeks, “So I can get the healing properties out.” Remus ground with his left hand. It would be slower, but he wasn’t willing to ask Sirius to move.

Sirius hummed, still twirling a stray flower between his fingers.

“Okay,” Remus huffed, “budge over so I can sit.”

Remus lifted himself as gracefully as he could onto the counter, turning briefly to swipe some of the paste up with his fingers, before turning back to Sirius. Sirius who had already placed himself conveniently between Remus’ slightly opened knees, palms resting on either side of his outer thighs. Remus blinked, chest tightening uncomfortably in the best way. Sirius sent him grin, leaning onto his palms, inviting Remus in. He smelled like summer and nighttime and warmth.

Remus sent him a wry one back, “It won’t hurt. In case you were wondering again.”

“Don’t worry, I trust you.” Sirius’ grin was still painted on his face.

The phrase made Remus sink his teeth into his lower lip, and he shook his head a little, making Sirius laugh, “Hold still, yeah? Don’t get all flinchy on me.”

Sirius rolled his eyes.

Remus took a bigger breath than necessary before he reached out. His fingers cupped Sirius’ jaw in a way that, Remus realized too late, was heart-stoppingly similar to the way he would if he were about to-

“Second time you’ve patched me up, you know.” Sirius’ voice sounded like a liquid version of the soft candlelight flickering around them.

Remus’ eyes flickered to his briefly before back to where his thumb was now slowly smoothing the paste over Sirius’ high cheekbone, the angry red cut disappearing under the purplish mix, “Hm. What does that tell us?” Remus replied just as softly.

“That,” Sirius hesitated, and Remus blinked up at him when when he felt something soft tuck into the hair over his ear. He reached up with his other hand and felt the flower Sirius had taken there, the petals soft against his temple, “I might just have to keep you around.”

Remus’ chest felt warm. Is that really what Sirius wanted? To be…with Remus. Whatever that meant to him. As much as Remus hated to admit it, he knew he would take any version of those words. With his hand still pressing softly to Sirius’ cheek and Sirius standing so close, he was in too deep to back out now. There was no forgetting now, “Well.” He wasn’t spreading the paste anymore but he didn’t move his hand, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sirius’ eyebrows moved fractionally downwards, the faintest hint of worry etching itself into his brow, “You’re sure?”

Remus tilted his head a little, not sure what this meant. He answered anyway, “Yes.” It felt like the right answer. He couldn’t imagine giving any other answer.

Sirius nodded minutely, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth then wincing, “Oh. You missed a spot.”

Sirius’ nose could have been nudging against Remus’ if he just leaned in a little. Remus’ heart beat at the thought, “I… You can’t- I mean, I can’t put it on your… you can’t ingest this. It’d poison you.”

“Hm.” Remus heard Sirius say before his eyes slipped closed of their own accord as he felt Sirius’ forehead press to his. Sirius’ voice was a whisper, “You’d lose your head for that.”

“Yeah..” Remus could barely speak. His beating heart had replaced every other one of his body’s functions, Sirius’ forehead against his and his hands pressing to his thighs had replaced every thought, “I would.”

And no, there was no forgetting now. Not with Sirius tilting his chin forward and pressing his lips to Remus’, mouth careful and warm. Not with his hand sliding up to rest on Remus’ hip.

Remus could never forget this.

He kissed back, matching Sirius’ pressure, hand pressing to Sirius’ chest. His shirt was like fine silk under his fingertips, and he moved his hand to rest against Sirius’ neck. The feeling of his skin was even finer. Warm and alive and soft.

Sirius pulled back for air and Remus could feel his shuttering breaths. He felt powerful and nervous all at once.

“I’m sorry.” Sirius breathed and Remus’ chest caught.

No, don’t be, kiss me again.

“You are?”

Sirius, to Remus’ surprise, let out a laugh, one that sounded almost close to a tearful one but not sad, “No.”

With relief, Remus gave his neck a soft squeeze, noting Sirius’ wince, “Do I need to make there all better too?” He couldn’t feel any wounds but they could have been hidden by the fabric of Sirius’ shirt.

“No.” Sirius said quickly again, and then he bumped his nose against Remus’ to soften it, “No. I’m alright.”

Remus bumped his nose back, half relishing in the fact that he was even able to do that, half scared that Sirius would pull away at any moment, as he had at the party, “You should learn not to say things you don’t mean.”

Sirius let out a sigh that was probably suppose to sound light but didn’t, “Yes. You’re right. Always right.”

“That’s probably the most useful thing you know.”

“God.” Sirius laughed, thumb rubbing lazily against Remus’ side. Remus had never felt anything so soothing. Despite himself, he suppressed a yawn, “Tired?” Sirius said gently.


Sirius smiled, “You should learn not to say things you don’t mean.”

Remus grinned, “Yes, yes. I’m tired. You woke me up.”

Sirius’ eyes went from bright to sad in a moment, thumb coming to a stop, “I can’t stay.”

Remus felt the sadness too, but his mind also filled with that means he wants to. That means he wants to stay. “I know. You probably shouldn’t. You know, speaking of losing one’s head.”

One side of Sirius’ mouth twitched upward, “Right. Can’t have that. Got a country to run.”

And just like that, something felt off. Remus tried not to let his smile drop. Always a reminder. This boy, standing in his arms, was not attainable.

He pushed that thought away and allowed Sirius to guide him from the table, hands holding his in a way that felt entirely new, and back up the stairs to his bed. As he laid down he pretended for a moment that Sirius was going to lay next to him. He wouldn’t. He probably never would.

Sirius stood for a moment, lit only by the soft light of the candle. His bruises looked worse like this, but Remus found he could see past them to the eyes that looked more blue than grey in the yellow light.

“I’d like it, you know.”

“Like what?” Remus said slowly.

“To learn to cook an egg.”

Remus grinned, face half covered by his pillow, “Oh, that. Well, name a time and a place. You’re the king, after all.”

Remus, in his tired state, didn’t catch the flinch this time, and was already too asleep to catch the, “Not yet.”

He wasn’t awake at all to feel the warm hand brush against his forehead.

The next morning came suddenly, like time hadn’t past, and he was surprised to find light streaming through his window and Sirius gone. He was even more surprised to find a note propped against his candle stick, scrawled in impeccably neat cursive.

Keep the slippers.

anonymous asked:

hey! so im making this BTS members sweet messages to Yoongi thing... and I'm having a hardtime with Yoonmin. Have any good messages that Jimin said to Yoongi? or is the one in the Muster the sweetest we got?

i feel like i’m forgetting something super important so if anyone has any quotes to add then let me know but !! here are some things jimin’s said to/about yoongi

  • “so cute.” 
  • “he’s cute.” 
  • “you know.” (”i know.”)
  • “hyung, it’s cute.” (re: his shoomy costume)
  • “i love you so much.”
  • “he’s good. very pretty.”
  • “i’m going to kill yoongi.” 
  • “he’s a man full of pride.”
  • “yoongi hyung is so cute.”
  • “suga, just don’t get hurt.”
  • “yoongi looks like jibangi.”
  • “we are like mom and dad.”
  • “just… i like to see your face.”
  • “wow! yoongi hyung is so cool!”
  • “you reall-rea-really look good” (re: min yoonji)
  • “my hyung-nim… doesn’t think too much.”
  • “i think suga hyung looks so nice in hanbok.”
  • “this year i definitely want to punch suga hyung.”
  • “well~ when i’m with suga, i think of my hometown.”
  • “he starts lying as soon as he wakes up in the morning.”
  • “suga hyung is the most charming when he does adlibs.”
  • “who told you to be absent? to get hurt? please don’t get hurt.”
  • “i’ve always wanted to work with suga hyung and now it came true.”
  • “yoongi hyung’s teddy bear keeps following me saying that it likes me”
  • “when they called your name i thought i’m the one who got the award.”
  • “the rascals suga and jimin heu we’re close! it’s true! heuheu right hyung?” (”no.”)
  • “i love hyung. hyung, i love you.” (”i like jimin but i don’t think he likes me.”) “hyung, i like you, hyung.” 
  • “i always wanted to collaborate with suga, please let us collaborate again. […] i’m sure suga will let me. please look forward to it.”
  • “he’s a…grandma. not a grandpa, but a grandma because he complains a lot, it takes him a lot of effort to move, and he likes dad jokes.”
  • “even though he sometimes teases the members […] that hyung is deep. he’s really a hyung who’s deep and that’s how i think of him.”
  • “he always takes care of the members and our fans. you can tell that he is very thoughtful. I have grown to believe that he is a very thoughtful person.” (alt. trans. for ^^^)
  • “i think suga-hyung appeared very cutely in this photo kkk If I upload it like this, looking at the hyung and saying he’s cute I’m going to get teased again right?”
  • “suga hyung-nim, thanks for being so nice to me. haha, i’ll beat you one day. i’m gathering the team for it already. wait for it. you, the most stylish guy in bangtan.”
  • “suga hyung is really good at taking care of himself, if i was going to a deserted island, no matter what, i will shamelessly tag along with hyung so i can survive. “
  • “last year, in the winter, we had a fan-meeting in inkigayo and he gave out food and other things. he handed everything out and i thought, “ah… he is so thoughtful.”
  • “everyone, the yoongi hyung you all know is like this. please swear a lot at yoongi hyung. everyone, fighting! until the day we all become one and swear at yoongi hyung together.”
  • “it makes me happy to see you laugh often. always stay this way. don’t faint when you get older and do extraneous activities. you are very attractive when you perform these days.” 
  • “he actually knows how to play the piano. i… have lived with him for almost three years but i saw yoongi hyung playing piano for the first time, i asked him to show me. he knows how to play a little.”
  • “i know how to please him! suga hyung acts like a daegu man but if you praise him he gets embarrassed and laughs. sometimes even if it’s not really a compliment like if you tell him: “(in dialect) hyung, today you look cooler than ever!” he’ll laugh.” 
  • “last time, suga hyung said we can eat sushi so we went to eat together. we ate. we really were full. i was tying my shoelaces. he went on saying he’s going to go check out first –” (“because i’m the hyung”) “– checking out, hyung said, “we’ve paid, so let’s go.”

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