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blushie14 · 4 years

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Drawn To You [Skephalo]

Soulmate AU? …You know what? Heck yeah! Soulmate AU! This will be fun! For this AU, whatever you write/draw on yourself appears on your soulmate. Let’s go!

Growing up, Zak has never communicated with his soulmate by writing on himself. In fact, he felt indifferent about the concept of soulmates for most of his life.

He’s seen a few people who got lucky and actually met up with their soulmate. It’s pretty rare to find your soulmate while you’re young. Most people however can’t find their soulmate that easily, or choose not to write to their soulmate for whatever personal reason.

Now this didn’t mean that he wasn’t interested in finding his soulmate. It’s not like he didn’t care. He never really had anything to say. Besides, whoever his soulmate was never contacted him either.

Zak simply has never felt the need to interact. Not until recently that is. He has been wondering what would happen if he actually tried to write to them.

Some of his friends have shared stories of how they got their soulmate’s number or how their soulmate reached out to them first. It has got him thinking about it a bit.

If he wanted to write on himself to contact his soulmate, what would he even do? Would his soulmate even write anything back? What were they even like? This person who is supposedly destined to have a deep connection with him is probably a complete stranger right now.

So Zak questioned himself, what should he do to capture his soulmate’s attention?

Then Zak had this… crazy idea one day when he was bored. He grabbed a couple of sharpies, went to the bathroom, looked into the mirror, and removed the sharpie cap.

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon. Darryl was going to do a late night stream, but he decided to stream a little early this time with face cam. It was a chill stream on the idiots smp, even if he was the only one online right now. It was pretty nice so far.

“Okay, VanessaTheMuffin! Fifty dollars is too much! Thank you for the dono, but no! Stap it!” He restates the donation out loud. “Do I know if Skeppy is going to get on the smp today? Well um..” He thinks for a moment while scratching the upper part of his lip.

“I am 95% sure that he’s going to join me later on? He might be doing something else at the moment… I wonder what he’s doing.” He hummed to himself before having an idea. “Ooh! Do you think I can build a little Skeppy statue right here?”

He was about to look at the chat before another donation appeared. When the donation was read out loud, he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

Lovemepls donated 5 dollars: Yo homie what is on your face lol

“What? What do you mean?” He looked at his chat which was moving surprisingly fast. Trying to read some of the comments, it seems everyone has been saying similar things.

SilverGalaxy: Uhhh you got a little.. somethin… Maddyisadork: A wild mustache appeared! DeezVibez: MUSTACHE LMAO

“Mustache?” He took a moment to open his stream on another tab and was bewildered at the sight. A mustache was messily drawn on him with sharpie above his upper lip. “The fudge?! What is this?!”

Darryl covered his mouth in confusion. “How in the world did- ..Where did this come from?!” Puzzled, Darryl couldn’t connect the dots on how this mustache suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

He felt this strange itching sensation around his left eye, similar to the sensation he glossed over earlier above his upper lip.

Rubbing his left eye, he looked at his facecam again. “AH! Oh my goodness!” Darryl freaked out when a drawing of a monocle around his eye faded in right before his very eyes. “What is going on?!”

Tumbling Croissant: OMG AHAHAHA ADoseOfLove: Wow your soulmate has great taste! Memesnotfound: Aww your soulmate is drawing on you lol

That’s when it clicked… His soulmate.

“My soulmate is.. oh my goodness.” Darryl didn’t even know what to say or think. He has never heard anything from his soulmate before. Then the one time they decided to reach out to him, they decided to draw on his face?!

“Is my own soulmate seriously pranking me!? They even had to do it while I was streaming out of all the muffiny times!” He sighed. “I’m so done.”

Darryl chuckled a bit after the shock and confusion faded. It’s true that he was a little annoyed, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t find this even a little funny.

AwesomePeter23 donated 10 dollars: Your soulmate is something special lol. I already love them and I wanna see them draw more.

“No they- Don’t say that! This is unacceptable!” Darryl crossed his arms and pouted. “I’ve never met my soulmate before, but whoever they are I hereby declare them a complete raggamuffin!” He shouted out and suddenly felt the tip of his nose itch.

“I swear if they added something new..” Once again he looked at his facecam and found a red dot drawn on his nose. “Oh come on! Are you flipping serious?!”

Pyro_Plays: CLOWNBOYHALO!!! OwOStawws: PFFFT ComradeinArms: WRITE THEM BACK PLEASE I BEG

“You know what? I’m grabbing a pen.”

Zak was staring at the mirror laughing at himself a little. “This is so stupid. I look so stupid! Why am I doing this?!” Despite questioning his life decisions, he thought about what he should draw next.

He reached for a marker in order to make himself look more clownlike until he felt his left hand itch. As he was scratching his palm he found writing on his hand.

“WHY!? >:0”

Zak couldn’t help but burst out laughing at this. The fact that they decided to draw a little emoticon just made this even funnier. “Oh my god what have I done?!” He grabbed the sharpie and giggled while writing out his response.

Meanwhile, Darryl was still streaming, looking at his left palm. A message appeared on his arm and he read it outloud.

“Because I wanna make you look pretty?! What kind of excuse is that?! I- This little rapscallion! I can’t believe them!”

King Kitty donated 5 dollars: You lookin fabulous there bad!

“You are all muffin heads..” Darryl grumbled. He wrote a little angry emoticon on himself in response to his soulmate. To his surprise he didn’t get a response back, but Zak suddenly texted him that he was going on teamspeak right now.

“Oh great. Guys, guess who decided to show up?” Darryl smiled and covered his face. “Is this even a good time or not? I don’t even know!” As soon as he moved Zak into his teamspeak, he could hear him giggling far from his mic. “Hey Skeppy. I’m streaming right now, and you aren’t going to believe what happened to me!”

“Bad I did something stupid.” Zak said quickly as his giggles died down.

“Oh wow, what else is new?” He laughed a bit. “Okay sorry Skeppy, I was just joking.”

“Wooow, okay. I was gonna ask you for help but now I’m-”

“Nonono Skeppy you know I’m just kidding please don’t leave.”

“I know! I know, but Baaaaad I think they’re mad at meeee.”

“Who’s mad at you? What did you do?” Laughter poured out from Zak before he responded. “What did you do Skeppy?!”

“Can you help me make them not mad? I actually don’t know what to say next all they did was send me a dumb emoticon thingy.”

“Yes. I can help Skeppy. Can you just tell me what happened?”

“Okay So- You know how I said that I’ve never written to my soulmate before?”

“Uhuh? Wait..” Darryl gasped. “Did you?”

“Yes and I did what was probably the stupidest thing I could’ve done.”

“Oh my goodness, what did you do? I mean, it can’t be as silly as what my soulmate did.”

Zak’s eyes widened in surprise. “You heard from your soulmate already?!”

“Uhh.” Darryl looked at his face again and just laughed a little. “Yeah, they recently did. What did you even say to them anyways?”

“Oh I didn’t really say anything to them at first. I kinda… I kinda drew on their face.” He nervously laughed.

…Wait a minute.

“You.. You what?” Darryl’s casual light hearted voice suddenly turned soft and serious as a look of disbelief was on his face.

“I drew some things on my face and then they got mad at me. I said something else afterwards but-”

“Waitwaitwait.” Darryl’s heart was starting to race, but he needed to confirm this before he got his hopes up even further. “What did you draw on them? I need to know.”

Zak got confused for a moment before answering. “Uhhh well I made them look like they had a mustache. And then I drew the monocle to go with it. After that I just drew a teeny little red dot on the nose… I was running out of ideas.”

Everything went silent as Darryl stared at his screen, red in the face. He was looking at the chat and surely enough it had exploded as everyone was losing their minds.

“Bad? …Are you there?”

Mashyapotatoes: OH MY GOD NO WAY! NO WAY!!!!! Disoriented Vine: Well shit this is actually happening?! Amber: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!

There was almost too much for Darryl to process. His soulmate drew on his face live on stream. His soulmate unknowingly revealed himself to him AND thousands of fans. His soulmate has no idea why he’s suddenly so silent.

His soulmate… is Zak.

The situation was so unbelievably ridiculous. Darryl, being overwhelmed with shock and delight he just.. broke down into silent laughter, leaning forward as he covered his face with both hands.

Zak, still being confused and oblivious to the situation, got concerned. “The heck? Bad?…Are you okay?! What happened?! I actually can’t tell if you’re laughing or crying!”

Darryl couldn’t really tell either. He sat up for a moment and tried to speak, but to no avail as he started laughing again, facing down on his desk with a thud.

“Oh my god.” Zak laughed a little. “Seriously, what happened?! Are you okay?!”

Darryl eventually calmed down enough to barely speak. “Skeppy, look at my stream!”

“Okay? Why?”

“Take ONE good look at my face! ..And then you’ll see why!” He shouted out.

That was when the realization hit Zak as he felt his face warming up “No… There is no way that-..” He has never searched anything up so fast in his entire life.

When he saw Darryl’s facecam, Zak burst into hysterics when he saw the same thing drawn on Darryl’s face.

“Look at what you did to me Skeppy! Look at what you did!” Darryl shrieked, laughing and facing down on his desk with a thud once again.

“NO- DUDE- NO FUCKING WAY!”

Darryl, being in hysterics as well, barely muttered out a “language.”

“AND THE ENTIRE STREAM JUST- OH MY GOD NOHOHOOO!!”

“Skeppy whyyy!! …I look ridiculous Skeppyyyy!!”

It was complete hysteria for 2 minutes straight until both of them finally started to calm down, taking deep breaths.

“Oh my god, dude I-” Zak spoke out. “I don’t even know where to begin.. you’re my soulmate! What do you even think of it!?”

Darryl sheepishly smiled. “Actually I.. I’ve always kind of secretly hoped that it would be you.”

“..Really?” Zak asked in a soft tone, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“Yes! I-” Darryl looked at his stream. “Hang on a second. Sorry guys, I’m gonna to stop streaming right here. Maybe I’ll stream again later and if not, tomorrow. I hope you all understand.”

ImForeverScreeching: Awwwww nooooooo PenguinRaven: Awww! Yeah we understand! <3 Lemon_Lime49: I just got back, why does bad look like that?

“Byeeee!” Darryl ended the stream.

“Dude, everyone on every social media is going to explode. What have I done?!”

“Oh my goodness you muffin head. I’m already silencing my Twitter notifications temporarily.”

The both of them chuckled and stayed silent for a moment. Zak was letting it fully sink in that Darryl is his soulmate. “I’m.. finding it really hard to believe that it’s you..”

“Why? ..Are you not happy about it?”

“Wh- NO! Nononono, I’m happy I’m VERY happy about it.” Zak quickly made that clear. “I just never thought that it would be you! I’m really happy that it’s you though. I cannot think of anyone more perfect..”

“Awww Geppy!” Darryl smiled. “I’m really happy about it too. Like, you have no idea how happy I am. You may have been such a muffin head, but you’re always my muffin head..”

Zak giggled a bit. “I really really want to see you now..”

“Me too.. Wanna plan to meet up ASAP?”

Two weeks have passed since it’s been revealed that the two were soulmates, and it was pretty wild. As they predicted, the information spread like wildfire in the fandom. Skephalo shippers definitely had a field day with that too.

Zak and Darryl took a break from making content only for a few days, but were talking to each other even more often. They slowly went back to making content and started telling their fans they were finally meeting up.

After planning everything out, Zak got on a flight to meet up and stay with Bad for a week. As soon as he departed from the plane, he felt a little nervous but extremely excited.

He roamed around the airport looking for Darryl. A few minutes went by until Zak felt a familiar itch on his left palm and looked to find a message.

“Hi <3”

Zak quickly looked around him until he saw Darryl smiling and waving in front of him. He smiled wide and started to run excitingly towards him. Darryl was surprised for a moment before raising his arms, bracing for impact.

“Skeppy!” Zak almost tackled him as he wrapped his arms around him as Darryl laughed and hugged back.

Skeppy giggled. “Did you really bring a pen with you just so you can write hi as soon as you see me?!”

“Hey, I thought it was fitting okay? You muffin head…” Darryl pouted.

Zak didn’t move away from the hug. He melts into the embrace, hugging Darryl closer as he spoke out softly. “Well.. hi..”

Darryl smiled and stared at Zak as a warm and comforting feeling washed over them. He didn’t want to let go and just wanted to keep him in his arms forever. “Oh my goodness, you just got here and I already don’t want you to leave in seven days..”

“Nooo, don’t think about that right now! I’m just happy to be here now..”

“Yeah..” Darryl wrapped his arms around Zak even more. “Me too.”

[End]

#skephalo #badboyhalo #skeppy #fanfiction #my writing #soulmate au

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staketheheart · 3 years

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Pranks

Tori came home from school tired and not looking forward to all the end of school exams plus the final projects. She dragged herself into the house, Trina darting in ahead of her and racing up the stairs. She was on her phone, yelling at someone. That wasn't knew. She rolled her eyes and set her bag down, plopping on the couch. She slumped into the couch until she was almost falling off the bottom. She closed her eyes and took a breath then opened them tiredly.

Instantly, she zeroed in on an overturned cup sitting in the middle of the coffee table. She recognized it as one of the paper cups from the new water cooler they had gotten. When the gang came over, they each had one, eager to try out the new appliance. Tori slowly sat back up and stood to retrieve it, planning to take it to the trash. She halted in her tracks when she got closer and saw something scribbled on it in sharpie.

Do not open unless you plan to kill it

Tori stared at the unique scrawl, knowing who had written it. She crossed her arms, frowning. Either Jade did something nice and caught some kind of bug but left it for Tori to deal with, or she was just pranking her and nothing was there. Tori leaned heavily toward the latter. She reached out to pick it up, but right as her fingers hovered over it, she stopped. Or, what if there really was something under there.

After all, this was Jade. She would probably catch something gruesome that was guaranteed to freak Tori out. That would definitely win out over a simple prank. Tori quickly pulled off her shoe and held it at the ready before reaching out for the cup again. She was just about to touch it when her phone went off, vibrating in her pocket. She jumped, letting out a yelp. She glared as she fished the device out of her pocket. She grumbled under her breath when she saw who had texted her.

Out of curiosity, have you seen what I left you?

I'm looking at it now.

Really? What a coincidence.

Is it really?

A smirking emoji with devil horns was the only reply. Tori fumed.

What the chiz, Jade?!

What?

Is there something in there or not?

I'll answer that when you lift the cup.

Tori stared at her phone then looked at the cup. She shook her head.

No. You're going to tell me before I lift that cup and die from a heart attack.

Fine, I'll tell you.

Tori let out a relieved sigh.

Although, I could be lying.

Jade!

Don't be a wuss, Vega. I promise that it won't be anything ugly, gross, or dangerous.

Any kind of bug is gross.

But not ugly?

Well, butterflies are pretty but they're a bug, so they still gross me out.

Then I promise it isn't dangerous.

Tori huffed in frustration, thumbs tapping a bit harder as she responded.

So there is something in there.

Sure, let's go with that.

Why the heck did you even do this?

To test you.

For what?

To see if you could make this entertaining. I'm happy to report that you succeeded.

Tori refrained from texting some choice words but merely squeezed her phone until her agitation abated. For now.

Did you open it yet?

No.

Well?

Tori dropped her phone on the couch and turned to face the ominous cup again. She readied her shoe, stepped forward, and snatched the cup. It took her a whole second to realize that there was nothing there. But Jade had said there was. Which meant it must have gotten out! With a squeal, Tori dropped the cup and jumped on the couch. She grabbed her phone before it could slide off on the floor.

Jade, I think it got out! There was nothing there when I lifted the cup! What do I do?!

…

Tori stared desperately at the bouncing dots, shaking her phone as if it would speed up Jade's response.

I couldn't answer right away. I laughed so hard I almost wazzed myself.

An emoji that was laughing so hard it was crying accompanied the text, confusing Tori. At first, she thought Jade was just being plain mean for laughing at her distress, but then it hit her.

There wasn't anything under it in the first place, was there?!

Nope.

Tori let out a loud cry of exasperation, phone clenched tightly in her hand.

I'm so gonna get you, Jade West.

Ooh, so scary.

I will!

I'd like to see you try.

Oh, Tori was going to try all right. She started typing quickly, rescinding cuddles, hugs, running her hands through Jade's hair, singing to her, nose brushes, and forehead kisses until she apologized for scaring the fudge out of her. She hit send and waited, a hand on her hip.

"Tori, why are you standing on the couch?" Trina asked, stopping at the foot of the stairs when she saw her sister.

"Jade let a gross bug loose in the house," she answered evenly. Trina visibly shuddered, eyes darting around, before running back up the stairs. As mad as she was at Jade's latest prank, it seemed she had learned a bit from her too. Her phone brought her attention back to the situation at hand. She smirked at the reply.

How about I admit that you were right, and I was less right, and call it done?

No, you need to apologize.

Tori!

Jade!

Fine! I'm sorry.

Tori could practically hear her grumbling and smiled.

Next time I'll be sure to actually have something in there, though. Fair warning.

Tori wasn't impressed with the threat. She knew Jade was only saying that because she had to apologize.

Sure you will.

I will.

Okay, going to do homework now. Love you, bye.

Tori pocketed her phone and gathered her things to go up to her room. She dropped her shoes by her bed and set her bag by her desk. She changed into something more comfortable then sat down at her desk to get out her homework. Roughly twenty minutes in she heard the door open and close downstairs. She didn't bother moving, recognizing the familiar heavy slam and stomping steps. Jade appeared at her door seconds later.

"I don't have time-" Tori began to say, but stopped when she glanced at Jade. She held her hands in front of her, cupped in a dome as if holding something.

"Guess what I have?" Jade taunted, smiling innocently. Tori jumped from her seat and stepped back.

"You better not," Tori warned, fighting at keeping her voice stern.

"What? I might not have anything, right?"

"Jade…"

"Or, maybe I do," Jade continued, advancing. Tori screamed and scrambled over her bed to the other side when Jade opened her hands to reveal something big and hairy.

"It's just Henry. I wanted a dorky name because he reminds me of you. He's a messy eater and is pretty clumsy for a spider. I would have named him Harry but it was a little on the nose," Jade explained fondly, letting the terrifying creature scuttle over her hands. Tori had heard of Jade's new pet, Henry. The way Jade spoke of him she never would have guessed that he was a tarantula.

"Ew, Jade, don't even think about coming near me! Get that out of here! And wash your hands! You can't touch me until you wash your hands!" Tori demanded, careful to keep the bed between them. Jade chuckled.

"He won't bite," she said, as if that was enough to change Tori's mind.

"That's not why I don't like him," Tori said with a shake of her head. She was looking rather pale. Jade stroked the creature and it shot forward so suddenly Tori jumped, startled. Jade caught him before he could escape. The thought alone caused Tori to tremble in fear of it getting loose in her room.

"Come on, Vega. Hold him and I won't involve another bug, imaginary or otherwise, in a prank again," Jade compromised. Tori stared at her like she was crazy, finally taking her eyes off the eight-legged menace in her hands since it showed up.

"You promise?" Tori muttered after a long silence full of contemplation. She was weighing the pros and cons, deciding that brief torture now meant no more bugs forever in the future.

"Promise."

Tori took a moment to steady herself then slowly moved around the bed. She was halfway there when Henry moved. She froze in place.

"Can you cover him until I get over there?"

"Sure," Jade agreed, tucking him away between her hands. Tori started moving forward again and stopped in front of Jade a safe distance away.

"Okay, I'll hold your gross insect and then I never want to again."

"Arachnid," Jade corrected.

"What?"

"He's classified as an arachnid. You know, two body segments, eight legs, and no wings or antennae," Jade explained.

"I don't care what he is! He's a creepy crawly bug and I just want to get this over with!" Tori exclaimed, throwing up her hands then bringing them down to mimic the way Jade had held hers.

"Just, don't drop him," Jade told her, removing her top hand. Tori shuddered at the sight of eight legs spreading out now that they had room again. Jade stepped closer and bridged the gap between their hands. She then gently tipped up. Henry skittered forward onto Tori's hands. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open as if she would scream. Instead, she went rigid and stared at the hairy monstrosity idly resting in her hands. As long as he didn't move, she would be okay. She could do this.

"Can you believe he's one of the smaller species? Some can get as big as dinner plates," Jade commented, fascinated as ever. Tori grimaced.

"Please don't say those things right now. I don't think any bug should be this big. Especially spiders," she said, still as a statue. Even her voice was forced.

"He's harmless."

"Those fangs say otherwise."

Jade rolled her eyes and reached to take him back. Her sudden movement caused him to bolt, right up Tori's arm. She squealed but fought the urge to throw him off. She didn't have to though, because he charged right off the side of her arm. Reflexively, she caught him, caging him in her hands the way Jade had. Everything happened so quick. Jade had been in mid panic as soon as she saw that he had fallen, but relief flooded her when Tori caught him. Even Tori looked relieved, despite gritting her teeth against the movement of legs against her skin. A grateful smile pulled at Jade's lips, admiration in her eyes. She stepped close and leaned in to press a kiss to Tori's cheek.

"Thanks, Tori. I'll take him back now."

Tori nodded and opened her hand. Once again, she copied Jade. Henry moved over to his owner and settled in her palm as if he knew he was in familiar territory. Jade held him close.

"Gee, for hating him so much you didn't hesitate to save him," Jade lightly teased.

"Well, he may be gross, but you like him and he's a living creature. I couldn't let him fall to his death," Tori reasoned with a shrug. This time when Jade leaned in, she gave her a proper kiss. They pulled away with mirrored smiles.

"Walk me out to my car so I can put him away."

Tori nodded and together they headed downstairs. Luckily, they didn't encounter Trina. Even though Jade would have found it hilarious to scare her. She hated bugs more than Tori, but the youngest Vega's kind heart wouldn't allow them to be killed despite her fear of them. Trina held no such care. Which was why it was best to give Henry a break. Tori opened the car door and Jade set the large arachnid in his travel cage. He immediately ran under the piece of wood for shelter. Tori watched him, strangely not as bothered as before. Jade watched her watch him and smiled knowingly.

"Not so bad, right?"

Tori pulled her eyes away from Henry to look at Jade.

"I guess not," she admitted grudgingly. Jade's smile grew as she shut the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Tori dismissed, waving her away before she could rub it in her face. Jade laughed and caught her in an embrace, holding her close.

"I told you that you had to wash your hands first," Tori reminded her.

"You held him, too," Jade pointed out. Tori realized this and groaned.

"You win this round," she conceded, grumpy.

"I usually do," Jade remarked, breaking into another round of laughter at the look on Tori's face. She wrapped her arms around her waist and kissed her until she relaxed. She pulled back to see Tori smiling again, a light blush on her cheeks.

"I came here to prove a point but ended up making it harder for me to scare you," Jade said with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of her eyes. It was Tori's turn to laugh.

"I am not friends with bugs, but it will probably take more than seeing them to freak me out now," Tori agreed.

"Then I'll just have to come up with something else," Jade said with a sly smirk.

"I'd like to see you try," Tori challenged. No matter what Jade hid up her sleeve, competing with her never got old.

#victorious #jori #jade west #tori vega #jori fanfiction #victorious fanfiction #drabble #staketheheart

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duskyskz · 4 years

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- Erasure - 1

Hwang Hyunjin x Female Reader

With washed out, dyed pastel hair, sea salt and acrylic clinging to his jeans, Hwang Hyunjin expected to find himself many places that night. A jail holding cell. Under the abandoned train station bridge. Maybe even his own bedroom.

Your living room wasn't on the list.

Warnings - Some angst in later chapters, suggestive/smut, minor character death mentions, Hyunjin is an eboy and a little angsty, Changbin is doing his best as a big brother, slow burn (?)

A/N - Finally! Sorry for the delays, my head just hasn’t been with me this week;; I hope you enjoy this series as much as I am excited to write it.

***

The steady buzzing of your speakers fills the living room as you watched Changbin scroll through the Netflix home page. Both of you settle deep into the sofa, balancing a bowl of popcorn and chocolate between your knees.

“Endgame? Homecoming, Nightmare on Elm Street?” Binnie flicks through the suggestions, and you shake your head in distaste. “I'm not watching that octopus documentary again!”

“You only hated it because you cried at the end.”

“She died! He had to look after her little babies! Your heart is too cold, too far gone for that level of compassion.” The last part of your brother's grumbles are cut off when you throw a burnt kernel at his forehead, barely missing his ear.

There’s nobody else home. Nobody else ever comes home, either. It's been just you and Changbin for a while, and it's not all that terrible. He’s a few years older than you, having graduated last summer and now undertaking an apprenticeship at the village police station. It doesn't pay a stellar amount, but Changbin reassures you once he passes the trainee exams he’ll treat you to a new pair of winter boots and you can finally quit the ice cream parlour to focus on college. You tell him that even if he wins the lottery tomorrow, you'll work your own job. For all the support your elder brother gives you, you like having your own thing. It makes you feel a little more involved, a little more even than jsit washing the dishes and doing his laundry on days he’s too tired to move.

The Thursday evening is reserved for you both, to catch up on the hours together you miss during the week when Changbin doesn't get back till you're fast asleep and you don't have the chance to say good morning.

He’s been doing that a lot more recently.

Sighing into his coffee, shaking his head at nobody in particular. It's easy to notice the signs of stress and overwork in his face, sunken and tired even on the weekends when he finishes early.

“Do you wanna finish Teen Wolf?” The softness in his voice when he addresses you is the same, though. “We have three episodes left of this season, if you wanna binge.”

“Sure.” You want to ask him about the circles under his eyes. What’s got him coming home later and later because nothing ever happens in this town. “I'm still waiting on Derek’s redemption arc.”

You're twenty minutes into the episode when a vibration from your coffee table catches your attention. You glance at Changbin, but he ignores his ringtone, flipping it to silent.

It rings again, no music, but harsh vibrations drumming against the polished wood.

And again.

Knowing he’s not picking up to make a point of it, you pause the show, nodding at the mobile he’s avoiding glancing at. “Go on. Pick up, it might be an emergency.”

“If it's an emergency they don't need an intern there.” Despite his words, Changbin shifts his position and you know he’s growing hesitant.

“If it's an emergency all the more reason for you to be there and learn.” You state with more force behind your tone. “Why have your grades been dropping? You're coming home so late but your exams keep getting delayed -”

“My grades are fine!” Changbin never snaps at you, but the frustration in his voice is evident. “I'm fine. There's just - Just one case we're working on and I'm nearly there, I just need time.”

You shut your mouth, letting him speak.

“There’s this kid who keeps tagging the beach houses on Dawning Lane, and that shit was expensive to put up last year. Some stupid, bored child that thinks a few cans of spraypaint and lung cancer are a good excuse for your adolescence. He’s not even that good… Just scribbles.”

His lips pout in a frustrated whine at the last phrase, and you know he’s more frustrated at the situation than he is at you or himself.

A beat of silence, interrupted by another ringtone - you almost reach for it yourself to check the caller ID and force him to pick up, before Changbin’s arm shoots out past you to snatch the device, slinking out the door and into the hallway.

You aren't surprised when a few moments later, your brother’s head pokes nervously out the door frame - He's already got his coat on, waving his phone at you as an awkward goodbye.

“I’ll see you in the morning, y/n.”

“Yeah, see ya.” You salute back, smiling to ease the tension in his shoulders, and it works a minimum. You won’t see him till the late evening at best.

The door clicks shut as soon as he turns around, leaving you surrounded by popcorn and empty space. You really aren't surprised - but it'd be pointless to deny you weren't hurt by another night alone with Teen Wolf playing idly through your TV speakers. Cold popcorn only did so much to soothe your heart, and the distance wedging itself recently between your sibling bond was hard to brush over, between missed calls and texts too often left unanswered.

You just really miss your big brother.

You commit yourself to Stiles Stilinsky instead, sighing into the blanket around your shoulders. Autumn rolls in quick by the seaside, making your calves prickle with goosebumps. It's nearing 11pm, you realise, picking up the -

Thump!

Your fingers freeze, hovering over the TV remote. Changbin wouldn’t be back yet, he never comes home the same night he leaves.

“Bin?” You try it anyway, calling tentatively into the hallway. It’s still entirely black, void of disruption.

Clang!

That definitely came from your kitchen.

Armed with a half empty popcorn bowl and nerves of steel, you tiptoe into the other room. There’s a lump of something or someone crouched behind the dining table, and your grip around the glass dish tightens marginally despite the quivering of your knees, fumbling for the lightswitch without taking your eyes off the rising dark mass as it straightens its back.

“S-Stay down! I have corn and I know how to use it!” You don’t have a fully formed plan yet, but you’re sure the sharp kernels will be of some importance. Fluorescent white light floods the kitchen, momentarily blinding both you and the intruder who now stands at full height. A steady 12 inches above you.

“Ouch! Calm down, I’m not going to rob you!” He says, sounding almost exasperated at your defense of your own property. He still has his hands raised in defense, keeping the table between himself and you, and you’re grateful he hasn’t tried to knock your legs out from under you, yet. “I’m not here to steal your stuff.”

“What are you here for, then?” You lower the popcorn bowl, but don’t let it fall out of your grasp. He doesn’t seem dangerous - He doesn’t seem like he could manage clambering through the window you always leave ajar either, but here he clearly is. There’s something sticky and pink in his blonde hair, stains following down his shoulder blades all the way down the cuffs of his jeans. If anything, he looks...a little lost.

“It’s the address on the post-it note.” Your confusion must have been plainly obvious, because the boy elaborates, pulling a crumpled neon-green paper from his jacket. “The post-it note that man gave me. That’s what Changbin gave me.”

Perhaps you lack self preservation instincts, but there’s an uncertain vibration in his voice that makes you give up your weapon and attitude.

“You know my brother?”

“He told me if I really need to go somewhere, I can come here.” You watch slim fingers tug at the sleeves of his jacket as he measures with a weight akin to a glare. “He didn’t tell me it was his house, or that somebody else was living here.”

Bold of him to accuse you of ruining his night plans.

It really did only click in your head when you looked closer at his tangled hair, dried paint clumping it together at the ends of bleached blonde strands. The artistic menace haunting your sea-side town was standing right on your tiled kitchen floor, and he looked downright miserable.

And Changbin had invited him.

Biting down the discomfort at realising how little Changbin had been telling you recently, you set the popcorn down on the table, you take in the threat currently three feet before you. A tall, lanky boy, with odd shoelaces and a sharpie sticking out of his trouser pocket. His hair hasn’t been cut in a while, and probably brushed either - it’d be generous to say he ran more than a stressed hand through it anytime recently. Though chapped, his full lips and wide eyes made him look far too innocent for his own good, and you blamed your soft heart for finding the boy kinda cute.

He did have a leaf stuck above his ear, though.

You almost reached up to remove it.

“Do you wanna watch Teen Wolf?” You break the quiet that settled, already shuffling your feet out into the living room. You sincerely hoped he’d follow. You weren’t sure what you could do apart from leaving him standing on cold tile, and he already looked freezing from the night chill.

Luckily for you, with a hesitant step, your impromptu companion takes after you to the couch where your Netflix and remove still await instruction. Changbin might grumble at you tomorrow at finishing the season without him, but you needed something to lure the boy into comfort.

“I’m y/n, by the way.” You mention. The boy sits stiffly, clasping his hands in his lap with parted lips, avoiding the decorative pillows.

“Hyunjin.” Now that he’s actually inside your house, Hyunjin’s confidence seems to have evaporated. The thrill of the break-in, if you can even call is that, has worn off, giving way to the nerves. He’s suddenly too conscious of the paint on his clothes, of sandy shoes still on his feet, of the smudges still on his cheeks. Should he take his jacket off? Or wipe his shoes?

You press resume, watching him relax after a few minutes as his brain finally has something else to focus on to let his worries ease. Hyunjin doesn't seem to mind you already being halfway through the episode, and you let yourself admit it’s nice having someone around this late at night.

“How do you know Changbin?” You ask while the topic is still fresh.

“I don’t.” Hyunjin bumps his knees together, fiddling with a loose string on his jeans as he shrugs. “I don’t really know him, he just...saw me around a few times, and I guess he figured I could use a place to crash. So he gave me your address.”

“You’re the mystery kid painting the beach houses, right? On Dawning Lane.”

At the accusation, Hyunjin’s lips part, flipping to face you with wide, blinking eyes., knowing he’s in no place to try and deny it. You blink back, observing his reactions, in case he suddenly changes his mind about staying. “Are you gonna turn me in?...”

“No.” You shake your head after a moment of thought, and he visibly untenses. “For whatever reason Changbin didn’t, so I won’t either. If he trusts you then I do too.”

You’ll never know if it was the murmurs of the TV, or if Hyunjin did whisper a thank you, and you won’t ask. There’s a lot of things you do want to ask, but a tug in your heart tells you now is not the time. Hyunjin looks exhausted, eyes drooping with every slow blink as he does his best to focus on the screen, hands previously tugging at his jeans now still and flat on his lap, slouched forward as if any moment he’ll drift off sitting on your pillows. Flurries of fluorescent light flicker on his cheeks, over barely scrubbed paint smudges and faint cuts from running too fast, you guess. In the delicate, dimmed light of your floor lamp, it’s hard to imagine Hyunjin as a bad kid. Prickly, maybe. On edge is a better word for it, tension clinging to his shoulders like stubborn dust bunnies. Curse your naive little heart, you tell yourself, building up your courage to speak.

“Hyunjin?” He hums in response, straightening his back. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

All you’ve been taught in life sent alarm bells through your skull when you asked a complete stranger (who just two hours ago, broke in through your kitchen window) to sleep in your living room overnight, but Hyunjin didn’t feel like a stranger. Changbin trusted him enough to lead him right to your house, so that must count for something, right? And no matter how much you tried to keep your guard up around the boy, watching him struggle to stay upright instead of letting his tall, lanky body fall backward and rest comfortably only made you worry a little about him, not the other way around.

Well, he did say he’s not going to rob you.

“You can sleep on the couch if you want, I’ll bring you some blankets.” You prompt him again when he doesn’t respond. “Changbin won’t be back for a while still.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” There’s a lilt of doubt in his voice, but he sincerely hopes you’re serious. This couch is warmer than anything he’s slept on in months and he really doesn’t want to crawl outside again with the rain pattering against your roof.

“Sure, you haven’t tried to stab me yet.” You shrug, getting up to fetch a duvet and looking him over.

“Ah, you probably want to wash your hair from all...that,” Hyunjin’s hand flies to his hair, patting out the tangles as if it’s the first time he’s noticed them. “You can use the bathroom upstairs, there’s towels by the shower already.”

He nods, following your directions with a ‘thank you’. Once his footsteps disappear up the landing, you set about pulling out the couch into a flatbed, rearranging the pillows at its base. Lugging the duvet down from Changbin’s room had been a feat, but you’re determined to make the space welcoming. Satisfied with the cushioned bundle you created, you run back upstairs.

You invade your brother’s room for the second time that day, tugging open his drawers in search for something acceptably pijama-like.

“Hyunjin?” You knock tentatively on the bathroom door as the shower head turns off and the shuffling ceases. “I’m leaving some clothes for you to change into outside, okay? Come downstairs when you’re ready.”

You scroll through your timeline as you wait, catching up on the last few hours’ events from your friends until a shuffling to your left prompts you to raise your head.

Your brother’s sweats hang a little loosely around Hyunjin’s hips, ending just above his ankles, bare feet sliding over the wooden floor of your living room, sinking into the rug as he steps closer to where you sit. His own clothing cradled in his arms close to his chest, you can’t stop your thoughts drifting momentarily to the damp mess of sunshine coloured hair. With his jacket on earlier, it was hard to make out his build under layers of fabric, but now it’s proving a challenge to not focus on the lines of his arms or the curves of his large hands gripping his clothes. Luckily for your dignity, your nerves of steel allow you to drag your gaze away from the collarbones peeking out from under thin white cotton higher to meet his eyes instead and find your voice again.

“I brought down some pillows for you, these are a bit too hard to sleep on.” You note, pointing to the decorative cushions you moved onto the lounge chair. “My room is right opposite the bathroom if you need anything, I’m a light sleeper.”

“M’okay.” Hyunjin towers above you, yet you’ve never seen a boy so dainty. There really is no other way to describe the delicate line of his nose bridge or the rosy tint of his lips when his tongue pokes out to lick them as he mulls over your words, settling down on the makeshift bed.

The proximity now feels different than the air between you when Teen Wolf still blared through your speakers, warm quiet heavy on your tongue with dim golden glow tumbling over his cheekbones that’s too much for your heart to take unprepared.

“Goodnight then!” You bounce up from the couch waving Hyunjin a quick goodbye, but a soft hand wrapping around your wrist pauses you.

“Wait,” Hyunjin brushes his thumb over your palm softly, and you hope he doesn't notice the goosebumps on your skin at the contact. “Thanks for not kicking me out...or calling the police. Y’know, as most people would for a break in.”

The smile he flashes you is almost teasing, but you can tell he means the words sincerely. You lay your other hand on top of his, patting in what you hope is a reassuring motion.

“Sure, Jinnie. It’s okay.”

#skz fluff #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin scenario #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #hyunjin erasure #hyunjin angst #stray kids imagines #changbin fluff

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inactiive-shit · 4 years

Text

Life As A Sanders

Chapter 12: Birds In Flight

((Previous))

LAAS Masterlist

Read on AO3

Warnings: None

Pairings: familial DLAMP, romantic Sleepxiety, primarily brother Analogical

Summary: It’s time for Virgil and Logan to find their own ways.

The Grand Finale. It’s Over, Y’all.

Words: 3,936

Age: 19, 23, & 13

Note: I am so sorry for the delay! The current state of the world just absolutely crushed my ability and will to write, so this is super fucking late. I hope

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil sat on his bed, staring at the walls he’d been decorating since he was ten years old and couldn’t draw nearly as well as he thought he could. He didn’t know how he was supposed to be able to sleep anywhere else. In a room where he didn’t know the location and cause of every chip in the paint, every dent in the wall, and every door that was made specifically for them, how would Virgil live?

In a room where he didn’t have his brother next door, just a knock away, how was Virgil supposed to exist?

He shoved an additional sketchbook into the ‘Staying’ pile and tried not to think about it.

Trying not to think about it. That had become an unnervingly common coping mechanism lately. He tried not to think about that, too.

He was not doing a very good job of either.

Currently, it is taking his whole concentration simply to focus enough into choosing what stays and what goes. Virgil, suddenly, had become aware that he also wanted to stay and while that could be the anxiety talking (or the insomnia, he hasn’t slept in days) it could also be that he genuinely rushed into this and didn’t really think about what he wanted, just what Logan was going to do regardless.

Did Virgil want college or was he chasing his brother? Did it matter?

This time it’s a book he threw into the ‘Staying’ pile. He glared at the expanding menagerie of his belongings and his life and then added a random paint brush to it. He didn’t know where it came from, where the rest of its set was. It was raggedy and broken and lost and should probably go in the trash, much like Virgil himself.

Well, he’s not raggedy, but he was a little broken and a lot lost and he didn’t just go in the trash, Virgil was the trash. He’s like the star of the whole damn show.

Virgil stopped that line of thinking by chucking an entire box of sharpies onto his bed and then watching in resignation as it bounced onto the floor and spilled its guts everywhere.

He crouched down on the floor and began to painstakingly recollect all the markers. His hands were shaking, annoying, and his heart was racing, rude, where was it even trying to go?, and he couldn’t seem to not think about the things he’d been trying to not think about for days. Why was his entire body turning against him like some sort of crappy hypnosis?

What if this was a mistake? What if he shouldn’t leave? What if something bad happened to Dad while he was gone? What if something bad happened to Logan if he didn’t go? Someone could die and-

Of course, it was ridiculous to think that he was the only thing standing between his family and utter ruin. Virgil knew that. But the thoughts in his head were like a vortex that had had enough of being contained. They pulled him into the spiral even though he knew it wasn’t rational, and Virgil, for the life of him, couldn’t seem to find a way to pull himself back out.

“V?” Dee asked, slipping into his room. He was holding what looked like a kite. Virgil didn’t know. He didn’t think he’d ever flown a kite. Nothing made any sense. Was he even breathing right?

“Yeah, kid?”

“Do you wanna come play? Ro said they’d come outside with us.”

“Uh,” Virgil said, and coughed.

“Are you sick? Dad won’t let you go outside if you’re sick.” Dee looked up at Virgil, worried, and stepped farther into the room. He put his hand—still so little and fragile—on Virgil’s forehead. “You don’t feel hot.”

“I’m not sick,” Virgil said. “I just feel kind of funky.”

“Oh,” Dee said. He paused. “Do you not want to come outside?”

“Maybe, uh, not-not today. Sorry.” Dee shrugged and took a small step back, still staring at Virgil. He turned to go, but hesitated.

“Is it your anxiety?” he asked quietly. Then, all in a rush, “You told me it can make you feel really bad and Dad said sometimes it helps to be around people. So that you’re not stuck.”

“I don’t know…” he started, but he felt like a huge piece of shit for turning Dee down already, and it could help, even if he was pretty sure it wouldn’t.

“You can come back inside if you want.” Dee straightened his back when Virgil didn’t respond right away. “We’re going outside. Come on.” He walked across the room and grabbed Virgil’s hand, dragging him along. The scattered box of sharpies lay on his floor, forgotten.

“Did you forcibly remove him from his room?” Ro asked, squinting at Virgil. Virgil was also squinting, trying to not cry from how bright the sun was compared to the lamps in his room.

“No,” Dee said, passing the kite to Ro. He didn’t say anything else, and Ro snorted.

“Whatever you say, little Prince,” they said and began to unwind the string of the kite.

Virgil’s hair, long as it was, flapped around his face in the wind and whipped into his eyes. He wrestled it back into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way, and then, when neither Ro nor Dee seemed to need his help immediately, he laid down in the grass and stared up at the sky, the warmth of the sun sinking into his skin. He hadn’t felt quite so comfortable in weeks.

~~~~~

Virgil woke up on the couch in the living room. Logan was sitting at the opposite end reading a book and twirling a coin over his fingers. He glanced up when Virgil shifted and blinked when he saw Virgil’s eyes were open.

“Finally awake?”

“Hhhuhg,” Virgil groaned, rolling to press his face into the pillow and not have to face the world.

“It’s two a.m.,” Logan informed him. “You slept from one o’clock this afternoon until now, and Remy texted you so much I had to put your phone on silent and text them to stop because you were sleeping. Dad made pasta for dinner but didn’t want to wake you up because none of us knew the last time you actually slept. There is a bowl in the microwave for you. Oh, and Dee said you were ‘anxiety-ing’ and needed to be around people.”

“Hhhuhg,” Virgil repeated. “Eh fiihhhn.”

“I am afraid I do not speak Neanderthal,” Logan said. “You will have to translate for me.”

“I am tired,” Virgil enunciated slowly, lifting his head off the pillow, “I am fine, I want sleep.”

“Well, seeing as that’s unlikely, why don’t we talk instead. Here, allow me to get you some food.” Logan placed the coin in his book and set it carefully on the couch cushion and then walked into the kitchen. The sound of the microwave working met Virgil’s ears, and then Logan returned with a bowl and a fork. “Eat,” he said. Virgil took the bowl and sat up.

“You have to put the food in your mouth to eat it,” Logan said, picking his book back up. But instead of opening it, he put it on the table and pulled his legs onto the couch and faced Virgil.

“What?” Virgil muttered, eyes drooping shut. Logan cleared his throat and Virgil sighed, forcing himself to look up.

“You are experiencing anxiety heightened from its usual state?” he asked. Virgil shrugged. “Virgil, please answer the question. It is important to me and also the rest of our family that we know when you are not doing well and can do everything possible to help you.”

“Yeah, there’s more anxiety,” Virgil admitted. “But it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m fine.”

It was a half-truth, and they both knew it. Virgil didn’t know what he was doing, but he definitely wasn’t handling it. He was only struggling. But he didn’t know what to do about that.

“Do you know what’s causing it?” Logan asked.

Virgil knew if he outright lied to Logan, he’d know immediately. He also knew that he couldn’t bring up the real cause of his anxiety because Logan might feel responsible or tell Dad or change his plans on account of Virgil being an over-thinking and under-thinking dumbass at the same time.

“How are you and Nate doing?” he asked, deciding that totally changing the subject was the only logical course of action.

“We’re doing very good. You’re avoiding my question.”

“Maybe I just don’t want to think about it, Logan,” Virgil snapped. “Did you ever think of that?”

“Mhm,” Logan said. “Because not thinking about something has never backfired and made a situation worse before.”

“You can be a real asshole, you know that?” Virgil said. He glared at Logan, but very quickly lost the energy to stay mad and rested his elbows on his knees, bowing his head. His hair, slowly escaping from it’s prison, tickled his face and neck.

“Sometimes brutal honesty is a necessary evil. You know that as well as I do. You should not let whatever is bothering you fester like an infection that went untreated. Tell me what is wrong so that we can work on fixing it.”

“I-” Virgil started, angry, and then he hesitated. “I don’t-I don’t know.”

“You do not know what is causing you distress?” Logan asked, gentler now.

“No,” Virgil breathed. Because he knew very well where the problem lay.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what I-what I, what I, uh, want. I don’t know what I as me wants to do. Not I as us, not I as our family. I as me, just as me. I don’t know, L. I don’t know what to do.” There were tears in Virgil’s eyes and he was so tired he couldn’t even be bothered to care that he was about to start crying.

“V,” Logan said softly, and he put a hand on Virgil’s shoulder blade. “That’s okay. You don’t have to know.”

“Yeah, but-but we’re going to leave for, for the, uh-”

“College.”

“-that in a week. College is starting, and we paid to get in and we’re both going, but what if something bad happens to them,” Virgil jerked his head toward the bedrooms, “while we’re gone? What if I don’t go and something happens to you? What if-what if I do go and end up thousands of dollars in debt and hate every second of it and regret the next four years of my life? What then, Logan? What do I do then? I don’t know what to do. I don’t like school, but this made sense but now I don’t-I don’t-”

“Take a deep breath,” Logan instructed, demonstrating himself. He led Virgil through all his breathing exercises and naming things he could see, hear, feel, smell, and taste. By the end, though still shaking, Virgil felt marginally better.

“Sorry,” he said.

“There is nothing to be sorry for,” Logan said immediately. “This is big and it is important to think through everything before you make a decision.” He leaned back on the couch, observing Virgil from a slight distance. “You do not have to go to college.”

“But-”

“No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” he said. “You do not have to go to college. If you do not want to, you do not have to. Even if you are only unsure about if you want to, you do not have to. You can, if you like, go for a week and if you end up hating it, leave. There is nothing binding you to it, Virgil. And if, in a few years, or maybe in ten or twenty, you decide you want to try college, you can. This is not an irreversible decision.” He came closer again, leaning his side into Virgil’s. “You do not need to be worried about me. I will be fine. You do not need to worry about Dad, either. He has fended for himself for decades before we butted in with our two cents. Ro has been mostly taking care of themself for years and is about to get an apartment of their own. Dee still has Dad looking out for him. Everyone is taken care of, Virgil. You do not need to worry about if they will be okay if you leave, or if they will approve of your decision. They love you. They will keep loving you. You need to make this decision for yourself. Not for us.”

“I don’t know how to do that,” Virgil said, voice small. “I don’t know if I can exist without you, or my-my shitty art on the walls, and Dee bursting into my room whenever he wants, and Ro being so fucking obnoxious all the time with their singing, and Dad trying to sell us on syrup being a drink. I don’t know how to, how to-stop being part of, of-” Virgil waved a hand, aggravated.

“A family?” Logan suggested.

“Yeah,” Virgil said, “that.”

“So you want to go off by yourself?” he asked.

“What?! No, when did I-?” But Virgil stopped himself because somehow, now that he was thinking about it, he realized it was true. He wanted to go out and see things. He wanted to travel. He wanted to know what the world was. And he wanted to know for himself.

“The good news is,” Logan said, “you don’t have to learn to not be part of a family. You will never stop being part of this family, no matter what you do. You will never have to learn to function without us entirely. We are all a phone call away at most.” He smiled at Virgil. “The other good news is, there is no reason you cannot go off as just you, by yourself, and see what the world has to offer. There is nothing stopping you.”

“Money,” Virgil said.

“You have been saving all your holiday and birthday money for years. And Dad said that if any of us decided not to go to college, he’d give us half of our college fund and put the rest toward a vacation.”

“Transportation.”

“Ro just got a new car because they didn’t like the one they had. I am sure they would not mind allowing you to have it.”

“I don’t know how anything in the world works.”

“Then go out and learn it,” Logan said, like it was really just that easy. “Most people, I have found, do not know what they are doing, Virgil. Dad doesn’t. Ro certainly doesn’t. None of our friends do, and you saw how often our teachers would make up lesson plans as they were teaching. I think a part of being human is not knowing what is going on.”

“What about you?”

“I have a short term plan.” Logan shrugged. “I want to be a chemical engineer, so I will go to college for my degree. But I will have to figure out where my classes are, what kinds of teachers I have, what to do with myself when I am bored without my siblings around to annoy me, how to live with a roommate I have never met before, how to remember to do my laundry and take showers without constantly being reminded, how to keep in contact with Nate without getting to see him in person for weeks at a time. It is a learning curve. You are not the only one learning.”

“What if Remy and I can’t do that whole long distance thing?” he said, but it was a weak rebuttal. Virgil was searching for excuses, and Logan knew it. Even if the thought of leaving Remy behind hurt more than he would like to admit. Unlike the rest of his family, Virgil couldn’t just hope Remy would wait for him to come back.

“You will figure it out.” Logan paused. “Remy is not going to college, either. It is entirely possible they may desire to join you.”

“That’s insane,” Virgil said. “Who would just up and do something like that?”

“You would,” Logan said. “And you will not know for sure what they will say unless you ask them.”

“Huh,” Virgil said. He hesitated. “Are you sure? That this won’t come back to bite me in the ass?”

“I have no idea,” Logan said. “You may regret it. But this is what you want to do now, and if ever you change your mind, you can come back home. You can try something else. You have an entire life ahead of you to try things. I would not worry too much about it.”

“Why do you know so much?” Virgil groused, but it wasn’t a real complaint. He felt relieved and relaxed and kind of stupid now that everything had been so clearly laid out for him.

“You’re just jealous,” Logan said, and he grinned brightly at Virgil before yawning.

“Alright, you need to go to bed. When’s the last time you stayed up until three in the morning?” Virgil asked, grabbing Logan’s elbow to pull them both up.

“Didn’t want you to be out here by yourself,” Logan mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and almost knocked his glasses onto the floor.

“The speed you fall asleep is amazing,” Vigil said, more to himself than to Logan, as he guided him up the stairs and into his own room. Logan was completely out before his head hit the pillow.

~~~~~

One Week Later

Virgil threw his last bag into the trunk and slammed it shut. Remy leaned against the side of the car, watching the sky. They turned to Virgil and grinned.

“Excited?”

“Something like that,” Virgil said, leaning in and kissing Remy quickly. “Just gotta say goodbye.”

“Parting is such sweet sorrow,” they said. “But I’ll let you handle that on your own.” They slid into the passenger seat and pulled out their phone. Virgil took a deep breath and walked up the driveway.

“Are you sure you have all of your things?” Logan asked, hands fluttering through the air like nervous hummingbirds. Virgil nodded.

“Do you?”

“Yes, though I fear that Dee or Dad may start hiding them in the house to prevent me from leaving.”

“They’re driving you down,” Virgil said. “I think you should probably be more worried about them bringing some of it back here so that you have to come back to get it.”

“Oh god, don’t say that. You’ll speak it into existence.” Logan groaned, collapsing against Virgil. He snorted and shoved Logan away, heading into the house. Logan followed him.

They found Dad, Roman, and Dee in the kitchen, making something. Virgil and Logan had not been allowed in the kitchen for the last few days. It made Virgil nostalgic and they hadn’t even left yet.

They’d been preparing for this for a week. After Virgil’s late night realization about what he wanted to do, he had told everyone else. Plans had changed, and nobody was mad, and now Logan and Virgil would be leaving the house at the same time but with different destinations.

Logan was bound for a college in the next state over whereas Virgil and Remy were going to begin their cross-country roadtrip heading West, toward California. They had money and food and not a clue what they were doing.

Virgil had almost never been so excited in his life.

Dad squealed when he saw them and rushed over, grabbing them up in a giant hug. He’d been giving even more hugs lately, as though they were going to leave forever. Virgil couldn’t particularly bring himself to care.

“My boys!” he cried. “Leaving! We better hurry and get everything packed up!” They quickly gathered up all of the food they had baked and then, with what looked like enough pastries to feed an army, the three marched out the door. Virgil shared an exasperated look with Logan as they followed.

Virgil and Logan watched as their Dad and brothers split all the food in half between the two cars and carefully stacked it in the backseats.

“They act like we’re never coming back,” Virgil said.

“We are the first to leave home.” Logan shrugged. “And Dad has more love than he knows what to do with. They’ll miss us.”

“I think they can handle it,” Virgil said.

Dad was teary-eyed and sniffling when he came back over to them.

“Everything’s all packed up,” he said. “So I guess we’re ready to go our separate ways. I’m quite fondue you two, so you better make time to visit, alright?” Virgil laughed and they both nodded.

“I’ll come back so often you’ll get tired of seeing me,” Virgil promised. “And we’ll facetime.”

“You better. And no getting into truffle while you’re off adventuring.” He hugged Virgil so tightly he couldn’t breathe and after a long, long time, pulled back. “Be safe, kiddo.”

“I will,” Virgil said. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Virge.”

Dad moved back to let Ro and Dee tackle him in a hug. Virgil laughed, squeezing them both.

“You have to get me rocks from everywhere you go,” Dee told him.

“And Dad and I want pictures of everything,” Roman said.

“Can do.” Roman reached over and ruffled his hair. Virgil swatted his hand away, glaring.

“Calm down, Panic! at the Disco. I won’t get to do it again for forever, I gotta make up for it now.”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Love you guys.” They echoed the sentiment and, if Virgil didn’t know better, he’d say there were tears in Ro’s eyes.

“Well, we better get going. Don’t want to be late or anything.” Roman rolled his eyes and walked back to the car. Virgil looked at Logan.

“This is totally weird,” they said together. They both smiled.

“If you need anything, call me. I’ll be there in a day, tops,” Virgil said.

“Likewise. And should you happen to find yourself bored and in want of company, my dorm is always open.”

“Love you, L.”

“Love you, V.”

Virgil hugged Logan, long and hard. There were tears in Logan’s eyes when they pulled away.

“Keep that up and you’ll be just as bad as Dad,” Virgil teased. Logan snorted and swiped a hand over his eyes.

“No driving while you’re sleep deprived.”

“No promises,” Virgil said. Logan shook his head. “Oh, and I need you to do something for me.” Virgil dug a cadbury egg out of his pocket and handed it to Logan. “When it’s time for Dad to head back home, give this to him and tell him that he can’t cadbury his head in the sand, we’re coming back.”

“You are hopeless.”

“Nah, I’m a genius.”

“Perhaps you are. You better have some interesting facts to tell me when you come back.”

“Obviously,” Virgil said. And then he went to his car and got in. He watched in the mirror until Dad’s car was out of sight and then turned his key in the ignition.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Babes, do you even have to ask?” Remy said, pulling down their sunglasses. “I’ve always wanted to go on an adventure.”

“Adventure,” Virgil said. “I like that. We’re adventurers, braving the West.”

“Let’s do this. I have all the sunglasses I need and your Dad loaded us up with enough food to last us a year. We’re set.”

“Let’s do it,” Virgil muttered, and when he pulled out of the driveway, he had no idea where they were going. But he was excited to see what they would encounter along the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @supersoftsupersleep @trashcanego

11 notes · View notes

popatochisssp · 5 years

Text

Skeletons Masterpost

The number of posts I’ve made about headcanons and such is starting to get a little long, so I feel like this might be useful! ;3

I’ll be adding to this as I do more things and try to keep it relatively up-to-date with all the stuff I’ve written, headcanons and actual fic alike.

Under the cut because it got pretty long!

Sans (Undertale)

Random Headcanons: 1

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2

Sans is a basic bitch

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Virginity?

Pokemon team

...Well, one of you is gonna have to change.

Love in a Ball-Pit

Papyrus (Undertale)

Random Headcanons: 1

A-Z Ask Game: 1

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

Get Dunked On

Sky (Underswap Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

With a s/o who’s never been in a relationship before

On marking his partner *

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

His cautious opinion of humans

Would he ever Judge his s/o?

Best Worst Day Ever

Paps (Underswap Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

With a s/o who wears thigh-highs

Paps is not a basic bitch... but he IS a college cryptid (or maybe a Victorian gentleman...)

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

With a dyslexic s/o

With a friend who unintentionally plays on his daddy kink

Pokemon team

You’ve Goat to Be Kidding

Jasper (Underfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

A-Z Ask Game: 1

With an artist s/o who wants him to pose for them

Jasper is a crunchy marshmallow

With a s/o who wants to dom him in the bedroom

With a s/o who wants to kiss and nuzzle his forehead

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Feelings on collaring (but also, on collars with a s/o)

Pokemon team

The baby pictures he keeps of his bro

With a s/o who wants to flatter/fluster/pamper him

On knitting

Bad to the Bone

Pyre (Underfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2

With an artist s/o who wants him to pose for them

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Feelings on collaring (but also, on collars with a s/o)

Pokemon team

Theatrical romance

Better Than Expected

Family First (Platonic)

As You Like It

Mal (Swapfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

What is Swapfell Indigo?

How to start winning his trust

On marking his partner *

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

With a s/o who doesn’t want to wear a collar......or wants to wear it as a bracelet instead? Or maybe a big bow? (Would he wear a bow collar...?)

Adapting to the surface

Pokemon team

If someone were to try and boop him (Being booped by a s/o specifically)

With a self-negative s/o

With a s/o who’s scared of rough stuff in bed *

With a s/o who doesn’t like fancy styles of clothes

Mal and his Princess

Aftercare best practices *

Mission Impossible

Dirty Laundry (plus The Hamper [WIP] for extras)

Rus (Swapfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 |��3

A-Z Ask Game: 1

What is Swapfell Indigo?

With a very small, very affectionate s/o

With a s/o who hasn’t had the best life

With a diabetic s/o who cannot accept sweets from him

Stuff he enjoys in bed * (and if his s/o is kinda subby, too)

How his s/o’s first period around him might’ve gone

Why he’s a little more vulnerable when he comes from a Kill or Be Killed universe

His feelings on collaring (and if not being able to beat Mal is an obstacle...) Or if his s/o wants to wear a big bow as a collar?

Adapting to the surface

Pokemon team

With an argumentative s/o

Resisting a Rest

Snuggle Therapy

Dirty Laundry (plus The Hamper [WIP] for extras)

Slate (Horrortale Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3

On fixing the hole in his skull

Making it work with a small normal-sized s/o

With a s/o trying to wear his clothes

Why is he so big?

With a s/o who wants to dress up fancy to go on a casual date

With a s/o recovering from anorexia

With a s/o who wants to kiss his hands

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

A meet-cute

Pokemon team

If his Phantump discovered some...memories...

With an adopted sibling in college who’s working too hard

With a s/o who has as much LV as he does

Is he a sadist?

Using his poor memory to trick/prank him

Can he see out of both eyes?

Skull damage

Fur a Good Time, Call... (plus Snips & Snails for extras)

Safekeeping

Papy (Horrortale Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

A-Z Ask Game: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

With a s/o who struggles with anxiety/depression

Making it work with a small normal-sized s/o

With a s/o trying to wear his clothes

With a s/o who likes to be picked up

Why is he so big?

With a s/o recovering from anorexia

With a loving, domestic s/o

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

With a s/o who isn’t intimidated by/likes his height

Trauma/coping from the Underground

A Modest Proposal

Ash (Undergloom Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

What is Undergloom?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

Undergloom Sandbox (worldbuilding, meta, flash-drabbles)

Yrus (Undergloom Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

What is Undergloom?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

Undergloom Sandbox (worldbuilding, meta, flash-drabbles)

Brick (Horrorfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

What is Horrorfell?

His ideal s/o

With someone struggling to learn sign who wants to communicate through text/writing

His feelings on his lost voice

Refusal to rely on text-to-speech

Reaction time

Swearing in sign

Acrylic vs wool

On knitting

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

His relationship with his brother

Surface wildlife

Telling his s/o about the Underground

Skull damage

Pokemon team

Tangles (WIP)

King (Horrorfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

What is Horrorfell?

Who took the blame for all the dead humans? Well...

On King’s prosthetic leg

How to befriend/get close to him

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

His relationship with his brother

Surface wildlife

Telling his s/o about the Underground

Pokemon team

Sunny (G!Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Gastertale?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

Aster (G!Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Gastertale?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Pokemon team

Merc (Horrorswap Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Horrorswap?

Pink

No, not ALL the way pink

Though that would be cool

Does his personality change post-pink?

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Pokemon team

His ideal s/o

Ell (Horrorswap Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1

What is Horrorswap?

Not pink, but blurple is nice too

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Pokemon team

Pitch (Horrorswapfell Sans)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

What is Horrorswapfell?

HSF!Dirty Laundry

Blind jokes

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Skull damage

There’s a snake in his face

Pokemon team

Nemo (Horrorswapfell Papyrus)

Random Headcanons: 1 | 2

What is Horrorswapfell?

HSF!Dirty Laundry

Stuff he enjoys in bed *

Making up with his brother

Pokemon team

All the Skeles...

Where their nicknames came from (Part 2, Part 3)

The not-so-secret G!bros... [NO LONGER ACCURATE] THIS is the one you want!

Sending flowers to their s/o

With a s/o who has narcolepsy

Who can use shortcuts?

With a transgender s/o: 1 | 2

With an asexual s/o

With a s/o who has chronic pain (active skeles, and the lazybones)

Where to run into a Sans for the first time

Cats vs Dogs Opinions

With a s/o who’s having a birthmark surgery

With a cute, yet intelligent scientist s/o

With a shy, easily flustered s/o

With a s/o who has self-harm scars

Favorite Youtubers

With a ticklish s/o

With a s/o who cries a lot

With a s/o who dyed their hair to match their magic

LARPing

With a s/o who has a degenerative condition

D&D

Worst traits in a relationship (and the Silver Lining!)

Best traits in a relationship

Halloween: 1 | 2

With a death metal vocalist s/o

With an s/o who is a dragon

Astrological signs

Chinese Zodiac animal

Opinions on puns: 1 | 2

4/20 Blaze It

Accidentally walking in on their crush changing

Unique tastes in music

Meme literacy

With someone being aggressive toward their s/o

With a s/o who’s loud when excited and then self-conscious

Relative heights

...but if their heights were static and they had a relatively tall s/o

Weights...?

Boobs or butts? * (Tumblr is dumb, here’s the exact same link)

With a monster s/o without eyes

With an s/o who sings about them

Who confesses first?

How does monster pregnancy work?

With a s/o who wants to be poly

With a bilingual s/o

With a monster s/o who’s the strong, silent type

Proposing to their s/o: Sanses | Papyri

Favorite Disney movies

With a s/o who has the power of KR

Beverage of choice

With an affectionate s/o after a wisdom teeth removal

With a crying s/o after a wisdom teeth removal

Can skeletons squish?

Body insecurities when with a human s/o

With a s/o scared of getting married and having kids

The brothers’ relationships with each other

On scary movies and a scaredy cat s/o

As adopted siblings to a teen/young adult human

Biggest pet peeves

With a s/o who has curly, fluffy hair

With a s/o that used to have an eating disorder

With a s/o who draws on themselves with sharpie

With a s/o having their period (And more on the HT boys specifically) (Plus an update with the new skeles)

With a s/o who has low self-esteem

With a s/o who has body-image issues

With a s/o having a bad day, and how to help on their bad days

What and who is The Judge? (Plus the new skeles)

With their pregnant s/o who forgot to tell them it was twins

Can monsters get sick?

With a s/o whose pet just died

With a s/o who draws them as superheroes

With a s/o who has projective chromesthesia

What jobs do they have on the surface?

Making their s/o gigglesnort for the first time

What kind of huggers are they?

Accidentally hurting their s/o in an argument... (but don’t panic because...)

With a pregnant s/o (and if he was the pregnant one)

With an accidentally pregnant s/o

With their brother’s s/o

Lingerie preferences * (Tumblr is dumb, here’s the exact same link, and here’s another link for the new skeles update)

With a s/o who can lift them

Dresses they might pick out for their s/o (or suits they might pick for their s/o)

With a s/o who wants to learn a new skill for them

What kind of kissers are they?

How they feel about Valentine hearts (and if their s/o decided to tease them...)

What kind of sweets they’d get their sweetie for Valentines Day

Gaster...?

What kind of cuddlers are they?

Feelings on petnames (and favorites to use) PLUS the reverse: (pet names they like to be called!)

Sharing a s/o with their brother...?

What kind of lovers are they? (And what if it’s their s/o’s first time?) *

Awareness of RESETs

Modern Stats

With a s/o who’s a criminal

As Pokémon

With a s/o who’s scared/anxious about pregnancy and childbirth

How fast do they move in a relationship?

How are they at aftercare?

How do they feel about being edged? Sanses | Papyri *

The Sanses stats

To a s/o who attempted suicide

With a s/o who secretly plays the guitar

How to get him riled up in public *

How they’re like when drunk/tipsy (and their drinks of choice!)

With a s/o who has split personalities

With a s/o who has a big secret in their past

The loud skeles with a s/o who gets bad headaches

Annoying Dog across AUs

With a s/o that snores

With a s/o who doesn’t like attention in bed and wants to take care of him instead *

On tattoos and other body-mods

Lifespans and aging

Feelings on public displays of affection

With a short-tempered s/o

All the Sanses are scientists!

As candies/sweet treats

Misc Underswap Alphyne headcanons

Preferred condiments/toppings

On Vocaloids

With a stoic crush who looks at them affectionately (UF, SF, HT)

With a shy s/o getting the courage to hold their hand for the first time

With a s/o who gets into a lot of trouble

With a sensitive s/o (UF & SF)

With an artistically-minded s/o

Thoughts on seeing their kid for the first time

With a s/o crying because they’re so happy

Prominent scars and injuries (UF, SF, HT)

Favorite cats & toys in Neko Atsume

Kinds of flowers they’d surprise their s/o with

Favorite foods

Who would win in a Pokemon tournament (or would they prefer a contest?)

What do they feed their Pokemon?

What are they like as yanderes?

With a s/o who wants to go to a Pride celebration

Hogwarts houses (and the new skeles update)

With a s/o who’s cut family members out of their life

When they’ll be comfortable with “I love you” with a s/o

Soft hands vs rough hands

With a s/o whose depression causes dissociation

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Nuzzling habits

A s/o trying to climb them (Papyri | Sanses)

Trying to surprise-kiss a tall skele

Knowledge of flower-language

How the upbeat skeles handle bad feelings

Opinions on humans

Cats & Dogs they might own

Talking during movies

The active skeles with a lazy s/o

Tics and habits

Baby Shark

Spooky Scary Skeletons

Which starter Pokemon would they pick?

Younger brothers’ first words

Age gap between the older and younger brothers

Area 51

On killing (UF, SF, HT)

Babybones Papyri bringing home a bad grade

Gaming habits

Being called ‘husband’ by a friend

Feelings on Pokemon (the game)

Can the innocent, sweet, naive skeletons take care of themselves?

Languages they might be interested to learn

On cursing

How they handle separation from their brother

Ideal honeymoons

Wild West AU

Surface integration for ‘fell ‘verses

Minor deity AU

Buying menstruation supplies for their s/o

Speech patterns across AUs (plus the new skeles)

Mood/stimboard vibes (plus UG and HF)

What animal would they be

As kinds of cake

Halloween costumes (new skeles only)

Frisk’s role in Swapfell

Playlists

On eye-lights and the shapes they make

So no additional humans died in HS and HSF?

Spit or swallow *

What would the skeles be like if they were gay?

On the intrusion of skull orifices

Hope for the Holidays (Sans & Papyrus bonding, no Reader)

Bag of Bones (drabble collection)

Working Out the Kinks (Kinktober 2018) * NSFW, not for minors!

Make Your Mark (Soulmate AU, and here’s the Symbolism Guide)

Flotsam and Jetsam (Mermay inspired, WIP)

Not So Spooky Scary (Halloween costume drabbles)

Choose Your Adventure (Holiday Edition)

Kinktober 2: Electric Boogaloo (Kinktober 2019, WIP) * NSFW, not for minors!

Soul Searching (w/skeletons 1-14)

Sweet Treats (drabble collection, WIP, w/all 20 skeletons)

#for reference #undertale #sans/reader #papyrus/reader #sans #papyrus #headcanons #fanfiction #etc #crinkling

302 notes · View notes

crashdevlin · 6 years

Text

White Rabbit-3: Compromised

Author’s Note: Starts early season 9

Summary: You’re a fledgling hunter who’s placed in charge of Crowley while the Winchesters go out to hunt. After a hard New Year’s Eve, you have a drink with the King of Hell.

Pairing(s): Crowley X Reader, a little bit of Demon!Dean X Reader

Word Count: 3903

Story Warnings: Noncon!, Dubcon!, toxic relationship, Crowley’s giant cock, fingering, Sam pining for reader, Biting!Kink 18+ HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!

Chapter Warnings: dry humping, more biting, Crowley wants to hear his praises

You parked in the garage and dragged your bags out of the back of the SUV. You were almost to the door when Sam opened it and grabbed your bags. "Hey. I'm glad you're okay."

"Yeah, I mean, everything kinda went to shit while I was in Texas. My timing must be digital. Are... you okay?"

"No. I'm not." Sam said, dropping your bags on the war room table and turning to lean on it. "Dean has been lying to me, again. He manipulated me, convinced me to say 'yes' to an angel to keep me alive. I have been walking around with an angel inside of me for months and I never knew. Turns out the angel he put in me was working with Metatron. He killed Kevin."

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. "So, when you were in the hospital and you suddenly got better?"

"Right. Dean just couldn't let me let go. I was ready to die."

"Well, he wasn't ready for you to go. I mean... haven't you done the same for him?"

Sam looked uncomfortable. "Not like this."

"Charlie gave me her books before she went to Oz. I know about the faith healer. Dean was ready to die, you didn't let him and someone else died because of it. It's kinda similar. Yeah, Dean's took a little more subterfuge, but... same concept."

"He lied to me. No excuses."

You decided to drop it, knowing that the anger was too fresh to make headway. "So, Dean skipped?"

"Yeah. Don't ask where, though. We aren't really talking."

Castiel walked in from the direction of the kitchen. You'd only seen him once, when Sam and Dean brought him to the bunker for safety against the angels, but he definitely had more of a divine feeling now. "Hey, Castiel. Did you get your grace back?"

"Not mine, but... Yes, I am an angel once more."

You nodded, pulling your bags off of the table. "Okay, well. Awesome. I'm gonna go put..."

"Is that a bite mark?" Sam asked, leaning down to pull away your collar from your shoulder.

You could feel the blush sweep across your cheeks as you thought about Crowley. You pulled away and forced a playful smirk. "Yeah, it is. I had to do something while you guys played 'angel exorcism'."

Sam chuckled, a welcome sound when compared to the melancholy his voice had been wearing before. "Never figured you for a 'likes to be bitten' kinda chick, but okay." He said, a proud tinge to his words.

"Well, you just never know, do ya?" You said, walking past Castiel, whose eyes shined with confusion.

You didn't hear his footsteps, but he pushed into your room right before you shut the door. "You had sex with Crowley."

You swallowed and dropped your bags. "How did you-"

"I'm an angel. I can read your thoughts. When Sam asked about that mark, you thought of Crowley, with great pleasure. You do know that he's evil, don't you?"

"Of course, I do. And it's... never going to happen again. It was... it won't happen again. Are you going to tell Sam?"

Castiel examined you for a moment, likely to see if you really didn't intend to call on Crowley, then he shook his head. "So long as it doesn't happen again, it isn't Sam's business. But know that Crowley is convincing and manipulative. If he is trying to use you against us, I will not hesitate to remove you. Do you understand me?"

"Sure. If Crowley tries to use his sexual prowess to turn me, and I don't reject him, you'll kill me. Loud and clear, Cas." You said, quietly, leaning down to pick your bags back up. "Told you, one time thing. Just... hadn't gotten laid since two months before my husband died, so... I'm good now."

"You won't be vulnerable to this again in another 8 months?"

"Castiel, I don't know you well enough to be super open about this, but... I'm hoping that 8 months from now, I won't be vulnerable to this again. Okay?"

Castiel gave you that examining look again, before nodding and walking out of your room. You dropped your bags on your bed and started to unpack your clothes. You turned and looked in your full length mirror. The bite mark on your shoulder was purple and yellow. You pulled out your phone and scrolled down to 'Crowley' and brought up text. Castiel knows. He said he won't tell but it can't happen again.

Don't worry about him. Find anointing oil, draw this on each wall in your room and on the door. Enochian warding to keep him from seeing inside. A picture accompanied the text.

Okay, how do I keep him out of my thoughts? Because he pulled the knowledge straight out of my fucking head.

I'll teach you a trick when I see you again.

A trick? What kind of trick?

Basically masks your thoughts .

From everyone, or just the angel?

Even if you mask your thoughts, I'll still know what you're thinking. Always do .

Really? Always?

Always.

Okay. Next time.

**********

You were searching for anointing oil when Sam walked into the war room with a bag. "You leaving?" You asked.

Sam nodded. "There's a couple suspicious deaths in New Mexico I wanna take a look at. Cas finished healing me before you got back, so... I think I need to get out there again."

"But hunting by yourself, that's... not the greatest idea, remember? I mean, I'm here. I'm actually an official hunter now, I've hunted."

"Yeah, but... I think... I've been here with Cas since Dean skipped and I... I think I might need some time alone. It's coming off as an angry spirit, so... it's easy. I don't really need help on this. You stay here, okay? Hold down the fort, so to speak."

"Hold down the bunker. Gotcha. Can do." You answered. He seemed grateful that you gave in so easily.

"You need anything before I head out?" He asked.

"Just point me in the direction of the anointing oils and then you can get on your way."

"There's a room downstairs with a bunch of magic stuff. Down the hall from the electrical room. Why do you need anointing oil?"

"Just gonna do some protection sigils and I'd rather not paint or Sharpie them to my walls, you know? Down the hall from electrical. Thanks. Call me if you need me, okay? I've got nothing else going but Netflix." You said, before bouncing down the hall.

**********************

The sigils were easy, but after you finished with them, you were overcome with boredom. Two days of alone time had you climbing the walls a bit. As you sat in your room, watching Buffy on Netflix, you pulled out your phone. Sam left me all alone. I'm bored. you sent to Crowley. He had told you to let him know when you were given free reign again.

How long?

Am I alone? I don't know. He went to New Mexico for a spirit thing. He did say he wanted time to be alone. He might not even come back once he's done there.

"Well, isn't that fortunate for me?" Crowley said, appearing at the foot of your bed. "Didn't think they'd leave you alone so soon. I mean, doesn't Moose know I'm still on the loose?"

You smiled. "I think he's more focused on other things. Me, too."

"Oh, are you distracted by me?"

"Nope. Not at all. I am wondering, though, why was Sam worried for me because you got away? I never mentioned all the threats you rattled off when you were chained up."

He smirked, sitting on your bed next to you. "I may have mentioned to the Winchesters how much of a bad idea it was to send an attractive, intelligent, classy woman like you to the dungeon. That, had they been smart, they would've kept you to themselves. And I may have mentioned, at great length, all the things I wanted to do to you."

"So, Sam called me back here... to prevent exactly what happened in Plainview?" You asked, amused.

"The Winchesters thrive in futility." He whispered, pushing your hair from your shoulder and bending his head to kiss over the bruise on your shoulder.

"Hey. You were supposed to teach me how to hide what I'm thinking. Magical poker face." You pulled away and twisted your body to look at him.

"It can't wait?"

"Come on, King of Hell. Castiel said he'd kill me if I... was compromised again."

Crowley rolled his eyes and leaned back. "Compromised. I'll show you compromised." He mumbled. "All right. Clear your mind. Don't think about me, don't think about Cas, don't think about anything."

You closed your eyes and tried to blank out your mind. You focused on your breathing as your head started to feel heavy. You felt two of Crowley's fingers touch your forehead, and then a searing pain. Your eyes shot open and you tried to pull away from him, but your body wouldn't move. He pulled his hand away and your body fell back onto the bed. "Oh, my... what did you do?"

He smirked. "I turned off your transmitter. Your thoughts are going to stay right where they are."

"Transmitter? I have a transmitter in my brain?"

"Everyone does. It's a psychic... thing. It's off now, you don't have to worry, pet." He rushed through the last few words and leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek.

You raised a hand and placed it on his cheek, rubbing against his stubble with your thumb. "You know what I don't get about you, Crowley?"

"I'm sure we could fill a book with answers to that question." He whispered, but it carried none of the normal snark.

"Why do you even want to stay King of Hell? You've told me how much you hate that place."

"Have I?" He climbed up your body as his words ghosted across your lips, his weight pressing you into your mattress.

"Yeah. You called your time in the dungeon 'a vacation from tedium'. Said Hell was Hell for everyone, even you." You whispered, losing interest in the conversation as he brought a hand down to massage the top of your left thigh.

"I worked for my position, y/n. I spent years under Alistair, under Lilith and Azazel. I stepped on people and stabbed backs and fucked my way up and I am not going to hand my crown over to Cain's redheaded stepchild just because she's a bit more cold and calculated than I currently am. I will not give up my throne until I am dead... again." His words were serious, but his tone was soft. He wasn't angry that you'd asked. He, instead, seemed happy to explain. His hand came up from your thigh to sweep his fingers through your hair. "You know what I don't understand about you?"

"I didn't think there was anything you didn't get about me. Thought you could read me like a book?"

He ran his hand down to your neck, gently caressing the bite mark. "I can, but you're one of those Japanese comic books. Everything's backward and in a foreign tongue."

"So, you just look at the pictures and get a close enough story to pass?"

The rough kiss he placed on your lips was full of appreciation and his hazel eyes demanded your attention as he stared down at you. "You're bloody perfect, you know that?" He whispered. His hands coasted down your sides as he spoke, never breaking eye contact. "Clever. Gorgeous. Funny."

He punctuated each word with a small jerk of his hips, grinding himself against your core. "Defiant. Strong. You could have anyone you want. Man or monster. What are you doing with an ancient old Scot? Why do you let me have you?"

The question threw you. Maybe it was the complete lack of confidence inherent in the question, or perhaps the way his eyes still hadn't released yours, but it made your throat go dry.

You smiled, deciding to use levity to break the tension in the air. "Oh, Crowley. Does the King need to hear his praises sung?"

He finally blinked, the corners of his mouth turning up a bit. "It's always nice to hear them in a Soprano."

You brought your hands up to his tie, pulling the knot loose before completely untying the strip of black silk. "Do you want to hear about the first time I met you? How your voice turned me on even though I was terrified? How I prayed to God for forgiveness for being attracted to a demon and He rewarded me that night with the hottest wet dream of my life?"

"Featuring me?" He whispered, his hands finding your hips and stopping, gripping them tightly.

You nodded. "The dreams got worse the more time I spent with you, but I brushed them off, figured I just needed to get laid or buy better toys, but it was you. Your voice in my head. The tension in my shoulders given physical form." You brought your legs up to cage his body between your knees. "I resisted because most everything in me told me this was wrong. Everything I knew you'd done, the blood on your hands. I resisted for months, but you knew. You were there, in my head. You knew that I was going to that New Years party to get a man, a man to get you out of my head."

You brought your hand to his face again, rubbing the silk of his tie across his brow. "I sulked in my room for 3 days after New Years, because you gave me the best orgasm I'd ever had. You played me like a fiddle, with just one hand. I cried over the implications of being so turned on by such an evil man. Now, I could have anyone I want, man or monster. The fact that you want me is proof of that. What bigger monster is there than the King of Hell? All those bodies on you and all that blood on your hands. You know what I think about all that, now, Crowley?" You whispered, pulling his head down to press a sweet kiss on his lips. "I just can't bring myself to care, anymore."

He groaned as you bucked your hips against him. "I let you have me, King, because you're everything I've ever wanted. You're smart, you're funny, you're handsome, and you've got an amazing cock, which is made more amazing by the wisdom you wield it with. And you make me feel like the most powerful woman in the world. That I can make you make these noises..." You bucked your hips against him again, his eyes closing as a sigh pulled from him. "You, the most powerful man in Hell, groaning and gasping at my touch. If that doesn't make me powerful, nothing does."

Crowley's hands grabbed the sides of your face, biting at your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth, dropping your hands to his shoulders and holding on like your life depended on it. He pulled away and kissed down your neck, licking and nipping at the bruise on your shoulder. He brought his hand down and rubbed you through your jeans. "You are, you know that, pet? You are the most powerful woman in the world." He said, before biting down on your shoulder, directly over the original bite mark.

You whined, a mewling and squealy sound. "Fuck."

"Someone likes being bitten." He whispered, and scraped his teeth along your shoulder.

"Never been bitten before you. Maybe I just like it from you." You moaned.

"I think you're just kinky. Beautiful, powerful and kinky. Such a combination." He leaned up, putting his weight on his arms. He stared down at you, that look in his eyes again. The one that reminded you of his time in the trials.

"Crowley. I-" You started, but you were interrupted by your phone buzzing on your bed-side table. "Fuck."

"Don't answer."

You looked over and saw Sam's photo smiling on your screen. "It's Sam. If I don't answer, he'll get worried and send Cas to come check on me."

"And he'll find you compromised. Bollocks." Crowley rolled off of you and you grabbed your phone.

"Yeah, Sam?" You answered.

"I finished up in New Mexico, but I just picked up a thing in Wisconsin. It might be Garth in the hospital. We told you about Garth, right?"

"Yeah, you told me about Garth. What's he in the hospital for?" You said, a little bit snippy.

"You okay?" Sam asked.

'You've got the worst timing ever.' You thought as you sighed. "No, just... stir-crazy. I probably just need to get out of the bunker. Let me know if you need me."

"Sure thing, y/n."

Crowley was standing in the corner by your door when you ended the call. His suit was no longer disheveled, his tie in a perfect Windsor knot. You whined. "Why are you off the bed?"

He smiled, his snark and cockiness back. "Maybe, this time, I take you to dinner first."

"What? Oh! Really?" Your eyebrows came together.

"Yes. Really. Come on. Put on something pretty. I'll take you somewhere nice."

You chuckled. "You remember I'm a hunter-housewife, right? I look like I have something pretty?"

"Well, you should. Just a mo', pet." He said, disappearing. You sighed and walked to your dresser, pulling out your make-up bag and starting to paint your face. Crowley popped up behind you as you were putting the finishing touches on your mascara. You'd chosen dark colors, browns and dark greys on your eyes and a plum-brown lipstick called Marsala. You grabbed your hairbrush and turned to him. He blinked a few times, staring at you while holding a dress bag. "Sweet Cerberus, I didn't think you could look any better than you did on New Years." He whispered.

"What, I didn't look good in Plainview?"

"No, you looked dirty and amazing in Plainview. All flushed and sweaty and...mmmh." He shook his head and extended the hanger and dress bag to you. "Put this on."

"And you just know my dress size?" You asked, skeptically.

"Have I mentioned I was a tailor in my first life? You think I haven't measured every inch of you by now?" He raised an eyebrow.

You blushed as you grabbed the bag. You put it on your bed and unzipped the black dress bag. Inside was a knee-length red chiffon dress with a sweetheart bust embroidered with silver flowers. "Where are you taking me, Crowley? This is not just dinner apparel." You whispered.

"Dinner, dancing, a private tour of the Musee d'Orsay. Something like that."

You turned to him and blinked slowly several times, before tilting your head. "You... want to take me to... Paris?"

"The Van Gogh exhibit is heart-wrenching. We'll have to fly, of course. So, I have my private jet waiting for us at ICT Wichita." He said.

"You have a private jet?"

"Only for special occasions. Normally, I just... appear where I want to be. I have to make allowances when I'm traveling with humans, though."

"Do you often fly human women to Paris for dinner and dancing and Van Gogh exhibits?"

"No, usually, I'm just flying prospective big fish around to get them to sell themselves to me. This is a special circumstance, though. Put the dress on. I want to see it on you."

"I'll put it on but Wichita to Paris is, like 12 hours, so I'm not wearing it on the jet."

"If I have my way, pet, you won't be wearing anything on the jet." He smirked as you pulled your tank top off and slid the dress over your head. He stepped behind you and zipped the dress, his fingers purposely running up your back as he did. He stepped back, looking at you appreciatively. "Definitely have your measurements right. Perfect."

"Okay. I'll need to wear a different bra but I do look amazing." You conceded, looking into your mirror. "But, If I'm going on an airplane, I'm gonna put on sweats or something."

"You're gonna need shoes. I wasn't a cobbler, but I think these'll fit." He said, producing a pair of black high heeled sandals. "Try 'em on first. Don't want to get to Paris without dancing shoes."

"Crowley... you... can't just give me all this stuff."

"I can. I am. Don't fight it. These are the perks of dating me. Deal with them." You blinked at him for a few seconds before stepping into the shoes. "If you prefer, pet, I won't refer to this as 'dating'."

"No, it's fine. I just... wasn't expecting you to want to call it that. Seems a bit... sentimental."

Crowley scoffed. "You know, I haven't dated a woman since the plague times. For you, I'm willing to extend the sentiment."

You smiled as he knelt down in front of you to buckle the straps on the sandals. When he stood, allowing his hands to follow the silhouette of your body up to your face, he placed a kiss to your cheek, then one to your mark. His mark. Your bodies melded a bit better with you in heels, the height differential closed to just a couple inches.

You stepped around him, testing if you could walk in those shoes. There was a time, when you were younger, that you could run on grass in heels, but that had been before marriage put you in slippers and tennis shoes, before hunting put you in hiking boots. As you spun and danced in front of your mirror, letting the dress swirl around your legs, Crowley's phone went off. He growled at it as he looked at the screen. "Winchesters have the worst timing." He muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "What do you want, Dean? I'm busy... Same as always. Actually, I'm about to go on a rampage killing all of your friends. Just got a line on your friend Garth in hospital in..."

"Wisconsin." You whispered, sitting on your bed to take off the heels.

"Wisconsin... Yes, I'm sure it's him. Skinny little man with a rat face and a gigantic schnoz... What, do I have to do everything for you, Dean? Get on your bloody computer and hack something. That's what you used to do, isn't it?" Crowley growled, placing the phone back in his pocket. "Brothers en route to the same location. That should be good for some sparks. It'll give us time to enjoy Paris."

"Unzip me?" You asked, standing.

"Oh. Any time." He said, pulling the zipper down and gently pushing the straps down your arms. His mouth came down on your bite mark, leaving several small kisses over it.

"You like that mark you put on me, huh?" You asked, turning to wrap your arms around his neck as the dress fell to the floor.

"I'm the only one who's ever marked you like that. It's special." He whispered, brushing his lips against yours. He pulled away, his eyes drifting down your body. "Get dressed. Pack an overnight bag. Don't forget your passport. I mean, I could get you through customs, but... rather not make things harder than necessary."

#2018 smut appreciation day #spn #spn fanfic #crowley/reader #reader-insert #non-con #cassie writes stuff

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madness-of-madi · 6 years

Text

Finding a Constant: Part Four

Word Count: 2,324

Main Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, and Amrita Delport (student at Midtown High)

Warnings: none, really. Just Peter being a dork. ;)

Setting: After Spider-Man: Homecoming, after Peter tells Tony Stark that he wants to postpone being an Avenger, but before Infinity War...obviously. *muffled sobbing*

Summary: Amrita Delport has been moving around her whole life, but when her parents relocate to New York for some mysterious project, she is unexpectedly sucked into the life of Peter Parker, otherwise known as the neighborhood-friendly Spider-Man.

A/N: I just love writing in Peter’s POV. Doesn’t hurt to imagine Tom Holland playing the part...*swoon*

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Peter’s POV

I kept an eye out for her the whole day. Every hallway I walked down, I scrutinized every person I walked past; every room I entered, I scanned every student in the desks. But it wasn’t until lunch that I caught sight of her.

Rita was sitting in her usual spot, reading her usual book. MJ sat across from her, reading as well, but I caught her eyes flicking to Rita every few seconds⸺was it concern or suspicion that gleamed in them? MJ had always been unnervingly observant and Rita was no exception to this. MJ could tell something was off with her. Firstly, she hadn’t gotten any food to eat. Secondly⸺

“Hey, Peter,” Ned interrupted my inspection.

“Hey, man.” I sat next to him and put my tray down in front of me, my eyes still skating to Rita and MJ.

“So did you find anything last night?” Ned whispered to me. Even though his voice was low enough that I knew no one could hear him, I gave him a look that told him later. I was mostly certain Rita had no idea who the Spider-Man was⸺after all, she hadn't even spared me one glance all day⸺but that didn’t mean I wanted to take any risks. In addition, it didn’t feel right to tell Ned I’d caught a near-rapist when the victim was sitting only a few feet away.

Ned gave me a quizzical look, but dropped it. “What about the physics homework? Did you get that one problem?”

“Uh yeah,” I responded, retrieving the papers from my backpack. I slid them over to him so he could see my work and I probably would’ve explained as well, but I was too busy examining Rita across the table.

Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun on top of her head and though I normally didn't notice such things, I could tell she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she usually did. She looked bare-faced, as opposed to her normal mascara and lip gloss pairing. Her green eyes had dark circles under them and I knew she hadn't gotten much sleep last night. I wanted to ask her if she was ok, but I knew that would be odd, considering I’d only said hi to her for the first time yesterday⸺as Peter.

She must have felt my not-so-discreet stare on her, because she parted from her book for a moment to give me a questioning look. I awkwardly waved before quickly moving my gaze back to the homework Ned was studying.

But I still couldn't focus on physics. I remembered the last time I’d been caught staring at someone⸺that someone had been Liz. It was painful to think about her and all of the things I put her through. Thanks to me, her father was in prison and her mother moved her away to Oregon. Even though I knew I hadn’t been the cause of her father’s illegal activity, I couldn’t help but feel responsible for Liz’s sadness. All I could do was hope that she was doing better in Oregon, that she found someone that deserved her, unlike me. I’d let her down too many times and I’d never stop regretting it.

“Peter!” Ned’s voice made me jump a bit. “Peter, I asked you a question. What’s up with you? You’re even more distracted than usual.”

“I’m fine.” At his disbelieving look, I hurriedly added in a whisper, “I’ll tell you later.” He looked a bit giddy, already assuming it had something to do with my crime-fighting excursions.

“How’s it going?” I recognized MJ’s voice. She was peering over her book at Rita, who actually paused her reading.

“Fine,” Rita said with a strained smile. “You?”

“Wonderful,” MJ responded in her normal dry tone. But she didn’t immediately turn her attention back to her reading, as I expected her to. Rita noticed this as well and awkwardly shifted her gaze back to her book, trying to evade further conversation. But that didn’t stop MJ. “You’re not fine, are you.” It was more a statement than a question.

After a moment, Rita met her stare again, but said nothing. MJ said, “It’s alright⸺I’m not going to pry.” Rita nodded appreciatively and returned to her book, MJ doing the same this time.

My heart ached for Rita. She’d done nothing to deserve what had happened to her last night, but that didn’t seem to stop all of the predators out there. After all, no woman deserved to be raped.

I turned back to Ned and explained the physics problem, to which he quickly caught on. For the rest of lunch, I did my best to keep my focus on Ned and not Rita, but I wasn’t completely successful.

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When English class finally came around, she seemed just the same: distant and far away. Not that she usually socialized or, in fact, said anything without being prompted, but she normally at least pretended to pay attention. She made no such effort during today’s class.

As a result, I wasn’t surprised when Mrs. Han asked her to stay after the bell again. And, just like last time, I felt slightly guilty about staying behind to eavesdrop, but I was simply too curious not to.

“I thought you said you were going to try harder, Rita,” was Mrs. Han’s opening line. She never was one to beat around the bush.

“I know. I’m really sorry.” She couldn’t meet the old woman’s eyes. Her gaze skipped over the blackboard distractedly, reading the words as if she suddenly cared what the lesson had been about.

Mrs. Han scrutinized her for a few seconds before saying, “Do you need help, Rita?”

“No, I’m fine.” Her voice was quiet and I had to strain my ears to hear.

Another moment of silence transpired. Then, “Just let me know when you’re ready to talk.” Rita looked up at the woman’s words and she nodded before turning away with a wave.

I finished gathering my things and took my leave as well, bidding Mrs. Han goodbye. I walked out the door and turned the corner⸺crashing right into a waiting Rita. She stumbled a bit, but I quickly caught her shoulder to keep her from bumping into the person behind her.

I couldn’t help but feel another twinge in my heart as she flinched at the touch. I removed my hand from her shoulder as soon as she stopped swaying and took a step backwards, muttering, “Oh, I’m so sorry, Rita, I didn’t see you there⸺”

“Save it, Peter,” Rita interrupted. “I just wanted to ask you what you find so interesting about my conversations with Mrs. Han.” She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

I blinked a few times, opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water. I might’ve spouted some bullshit about gathering my things had there not been a shrewd glint in her green eyes. Something told me she’d see right through the excuse.

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t notice how slowly you put your books in your bag?” There was a hint of a grin playing on her lips, but it only increased my embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I’m just sort of⸺” I sputtered, unable to finish the sentence. Worried about you, I had been about to say.

“What, Peter?” Rita implored, still smiling a bit.

I swallowed nervously. “Nothing, I’m just sorry.”

She huffed a laugh and said, “It’s fine. You just might want to work on your spying skills.”

“I wasn’t spying!” I countered indignantly, but there was still a anxious waver in my voice.

“Oh, yeah? What else would you call it?” She searched my expression as I struggled to come up with an answer.

“Studiously observing?” I speculated.

“That’s just a euphemism, Peter.” She burst out laughing and I couldn’t help but join in. I felt relieved that she wasn’t angry with me or creeped out.

When the laughter died out, I blurted, “Hey, Rita, would you want to come to a party tomorrow night?”

“What party?” she inquired.

Good question⸺what party Peter?! I cursed my impulsiveness before rambling, “Um, well, I’m having a few friends over tomorrow night, and I was just wondering if you wanted to come⸺being the new kid and everything. We’re gonna,” I hesitated, stabbing in the dark for something cool to say. “Play monopoly.”

I nearly punched myself.

She chuckled and seemed to consider. “Sure,” she finally agreed.

“Really?” I exclaimed, trying and failing not to sound too surprised.

“Yeah, why not?”

“Alright, I’ll text you the details tonight.” I realized my mistake a second too late.

But she didn’t hesitate to grab a sharpie from her backpack side pocket and reach for my arm. “May I?” I nodded hurriedly and she scribbled her phone number on the inside of my arm.

“Thanks,” I said once she was done.

“No problem,” she replied. “I’ll talk to you later then?”

“Yeah, definitely.” She gave one last wave before turning to walk the other way. For a moment, I just stood there, unbelieving at what I’d just done. Thanks to my stupidity, I was going to have to plan a party and get actual people to come to it.

“Hey, Peter.” Ned appeared beside me.

“Oh thank God, Ned you’ll never believe what I just did.” I quickly explained the situation to him, cringing when I told him about what I said we’d be doing.

“Oh, awesome! I love Monopoly!” Ned rejoiced. At my sour look, he quickly continued, “But yeah, you probably could’ve said something a little less lame.”

“Yeah, no kidding. I was honestly just surprised that she agreed to come.” It still didn’t quite make sense in my head. Perhaps after what happened last night she wants to distract herself…

“Who else are you going to invite?” Ned asked.

“I have absolutely no idea,” I admitted with a frustrated sigh.

“We could probably get MJ to come.”

“Doubtful, but I’ll text her tonight.”

“Are we having it at your apartment then?” Ned brought up a good point.

“Yeah, I suppose, but I’ll have to check with Aunt May.”

“Cool.” Ned said. I was just about to say goodbye when he blurted, “What was that thing you were gonna tell me at lunch?”

“Oh,” I stammered. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Come on, Peter. If I’m gonna be your guy-in-the-chair, you need to give me all of the details.”

I gave him a look that said he certainly was not my guy-in-the-chair, but went on anyway. “Well, I caught a guy in an alley. He was assaulting this woman,” I finished, unable to reveal who the woman was. That was Rita’s secret to tell, not mine.

“Woah, dude, you really are a superhero!” He clapped me on the back, and I huffed a laugh at him.

“Well, I gotta go now. I’ll talk to you later, Ned.”

See ya!” he called after me as I made my way out of the door.

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Three hours later, I was sitting in front of Aunt May at the kitchen table. Just minutes before, I’d been scouring the city for crime as Spider-Man, but I’d found nothing of significance. So I changed clothes and decided to go home to break the news of the party to Aunt May.

“What is it that you wanted to ask me?” Her voice was polite and warm, as it always was.

I straightened in my seat. “I was just wondering if I could have a few friends over tomorrow night.”

“A few?” she asked, attempting to sound as if she wasn’t surprised. As far as she knew, Ned was my only friend. Which is true, my brain mocked me.

“Yeah, there’s this new girl, Rita, and probably MJ too.”

“Rita, huh?” There was a sly glint in her eyes that told me exactly what was coming next. “Is she pretty?”

“Aunt May, come on!” I groaned, my cheeks going red from embarrassment.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she laughed as I blushed even more. Finally she got up and began searching the fridge for food, putting me out of my misery.

“What you want for dinner?”

“I dunno,” I answered, taking out my phone to text MJ. How does one invite MJ to a party?

“Thai it is, then. I’ll order now,” Aunt May sighed⸺she never really was one for cooking.

I nodded my confirmation and pulled up MJ in my contacts. Before I could sit there and make it much more difficult than it needed to be, I typed out a quick text.

Do you want to come to my place tomorrow night? Rita and Ned are coming and we are gonna play monopoly.

I cringed at the last part, but hit send anyway. We’d become closer ever since the academic decathlon, but she was still probably going to be caught off guard by the invitation.

After a few more minutes of staring at the text, I got up and slid my phone in the back pocket of my jeans. I made a beeline for my room, hoping to finish some homework before the food came.

Halfway through my physics homework, my phone buzzed against my butt and I jumped a bit at the sudden vibration. There was a text from MJ:

Address? Time?

I huffed at her curtness and tapped out a reply. Then I glanced at my arm, remembering I had to text Rita as well.

MJ and Ned are coming around 5. Does that work for you?

It’s Peter by the way.

Parker.

I cursed myself for my awkwardness for the second time that day. I was about to put my phone away again when it pinged, notifying me of Rita’s response.

Sounds good. Where exactly am I going?

I sent her my address as well.

I’ll be there. ;)

I blinked at the winky face and felt my cheeks warm up. Running my fingers through my hair, I attempted to focus on my homework again. Attempt being the key word.

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blissedoutphil · 6 years

Text

Where You Belong Part 9

Sorry for the very long wait, I had to go on a writing hiatus but the semester has ended so I’m back :)

I wrote like 3/4 of this chapter long ago, way before Dan posted his depression video. So this is in no way related to real life Dan, I’ll never romanticise depression. WYB Dan was just having a bad time in uni (might have written it based on what I was going through in uni myself...lol)

And I added this prompt into the chapter, I hope you enjoy!

3995 words of Dom!Phil, sub!dan, fluff, pet play/neko kink, cockwarming, blowjob, handjob, praise kink

or read on ao3!

~Masterlist~

Dan hated life. He hated his uncooperative coursemates, hated his ruthless professors, hated all his unfinished assignments. He just wanted to go home to Phil. To cuddle with Phil, or sit by his feet perhaps. He missed Phil, just wanted to relive his summer.

He’d planned to continue living with Phil during the semester, but here he was, 5 weeks into university and having to bunk in his friend’s room in campus because he had spent the whole evening in school doing a group project and it was too late to go home.

“I’m sorry Peej, I promise I’ll leave tomorrow,” Dan sighed as he plopped onto the spare mattress on the floor.

“No worries, really. I’m always here if you need help. It’s nice having company anyway,” PJ replied.

Dan was so thankful he had a friend like PJ. He’d been staying over for almost 2 weeks now. Every time he thought he could go home, there’d be some new assignment or quiz that he’d have to burn the midnight oil for. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in dorm again this semester, he thought dismally.

Phil had been so understanding, it made Dan feel like crying. He’d miss Phil’s calls or take hours to reply Phil’s texts but Phil never got upset, just kept cheering him on and assuring him that he can ace the semester.

“Miss your boyfriend?”

Dan looked up from his phone to see PJ smirking down at him from his bed. He sighed, “Of course I do.”

“I really wanna meet this prince charming of yours,” PJ stated.

“Maybe one day,” Dan smiled, looking back at his phone, finally able to open the unread messages.

Phil (12:07am): thought i’d stay up w u but an Old Man needs his sleep. pls sleep soon too babe😴

Dan (3:42am): its alright, its the thought that counts lmao😙 yh finally gonna sleep now gnight old man👨

Phil was so excited for his boy to come back home, 2 weeks felt too long. They hadn’t been away from each other that long ever since Dan moved into his home at the start of summer. He briefly wondered if Dan would be up for some kinky fun. Not that he’d mind some vanilla sex either, or even just cuddles.

Dan was supposed to be home about 45 minutes ago, and Phil had texted him when he was 10 minutes late, but still hadn’t received a reply. Another 15 minutes passed and Phil was considering making a rule about punctuality for Dan, but he decided that Dan probably had a good reason for being late and not answering him. He honestly pitied Dan and how busy he was. He’d been to uni, so he understands what Dan’s going through. But still he couldn’t help worrying if Dan’s not okay.

He was pacing around the living room when he heard a knock on the door. He quickly went to open it, seeing a very tired Dan. Before Phil could respond, Dan spoke up.

“I’m sorry, Sir,” Dan said, lowering his head. He sounded stressed and almost panicky.

Phil wrinkled his brows in confusion. “Hey Dan, it’s okay, no need to be sorry,” he said softly, moving aside for Dan to step in.

But Dan didn’t move, even when Phil gestured for him to enter. “Dan? Come in,” Phil said, but before he could grasp Dan’s hand in his, he noticed a tear fall from Dan’s cheek.

“I’m sorry Sir,” Dan repeated, voice quieter, “sorry I’m late, sorry I never answered your texts, always ignoring you. Sorry I’m so useless and dumb, I don’t deserve you, I’m sorry I’m good for nothing.”

Phil had pulled Dan through the door and into a hug halfway through Dan’s monologue. He’d softly shushed him but Dan wouldn’t stop, he was sobbing as he carried on bringing himself down. Phil held onto Dan and stroked his hair, feeling Dan shaking slightly. Dan wasn’t returning the hug, but he buried his face into the crook of Phil’s neck as he whispered negative things about himself.

Phil’s heart broke as he heard Dan say such things about himself. Where was the confident boy he’d been with throughout the summer? He couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled away from the hug and held onto Dan’s shoulders tightly. When Dan wouldn’t look at him, he tilted his chin up with his finger.

“Dan, stop,” he said sternly, and Dan finally quieted down, save for a few hiccups.

Phil noted how dark the circles under Dan’s eyes were. He gently wiped the tears from Dan’s cheeks with his thumb. “What happened, Dan?” he asked, unable to hide the worry from his voice.

“I deserve to be punished, Sir,” Dan sighed.

“Why do you think that?” Phil asked, trying not to sound alarmed. He softly stroked Dan’s cheek.

“Because. I just do. It’s what I should get for being such a nuisance,” Dan wanted to cry again, but his master had told him to stop.

Phil was still confused as to what caused Dan to act this way, but he was clear on what he had to do. “Dan, I’m not going to punish you when I don’t see anything you did to deserve it. What you deserve right now is a warm bath. And what you need is to relax. You’re not any of the things you just said about yourself, understand? Let me take care of you.”

Dan was too tired to protest. He was convinced that he was all the things he said he was, doesn’t know how Phil couldn’t see it. But he was tired, so he let Phil take charge.

Phil gently held Dan’s hand in his as he led Dan to the bathroom. He drew a bath and while waiting for it to fill, he carefully undressed Dan. Dan stood pliantly, letting Phil move him as necessary to remove his clothes.

Phil helped Dan into the tub and when Dan had settled down, he moved to sit behind the tub.

“You’re leaving?” Dan asked, voice small, but Phil could hear the disappointment.

“I’m gonna be right here with you, darling,” Phil reassured. He scooped some water up and wet Dan’s hair, before getting the shampoo.

Dan relaxed into the massage Phil gave as he lathered up his hair. Phil massaged Dan’s scalp thoroughly before rinsing off the shampoo. When he was done, he moved on to massage Dan’s shoulders.

Dan closed his eyes and moaned softly when Phil kneaded at the tensions in his shoulders. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually felt relaxed and comfortable, and he was about to fall asleep when Phil broke the silence.

“Are you feeling better, kitten?”

“A lil,” Dan mumbled, suddenly embarrassed by his breakdown earlier. “Sorry if I scared you earlier.”

“No need to be sorry. I’m always here for you, okay? I don’t want you to think all those horrible things about yourself. You’re smart and confident, you’re not a nuisance or useless. I’m proud and so happy to have you, Dan. You’re not good for nothing.” Phil ended his mini speech by planting a kiss on Dan’s wet hair.

Dan sighed. He wished he could believe Phil as easily as he believed the people in university who brought him down. He splashed the water, angry at himself for being so affected by people who don’t matter, yet unable to accept what the most important person to him was saying.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” Phil asked slowly, stroking Dan’s shoulders.

Dan gave a small shake of his head. “I just wanna play to be honest,” Dan said shyly. He was upset that his return home was ruined like that, he’d been looking forward to playing with Phil.

“Just relax a little while more. Need to make sure you’re in the right mindset if we’re gonna do anything,” Phil answered, he wasn’t going to push Dan about his meltdown if he wasn’t ready to talk about it.

After a little more massaging, Phil got up. “You okay being here by yourself? I’m gonna prepare some things for you to get ready with in the bedroom.”

Dan nodded.

“Just stay until you’re really ready to play, alright? And if you decide not to play, that’s fine too. Don’t have to pressure yourself, I won’t mind. Your wellbeing is more important.”

Dan nodded again, and Phil gave him a small smile before leaving the bathroom.

What did I do to deserve him?, Dan wondered.

When his skin started getting wrinkly and the water wasn’t warm anymore, Dan finally got out of the bathtub. He took his time drying himself off before walking to the bedroom.

Phil wasn’t in, but he’d laid out the toys on the bed. Dan smiled as he saw his outfit. Phil knew exactly what he needed to clear his mind from all the stress.

He got on all fours on the floor and quickly fingered himself open. Then he took the steel plug. Attached to it was a brown cat tail, long and soft and matching his own hair. He stroked the tail for a bit, feeling the smooth faux fur. He then pushed the plug into himself, biting his lip to suppress a moan from escaping. When the plug was fully in, he wiggled his butt a little, feeling the tail sway behind him, tickling his inner thighs.

Next, he grabbed the collar from the bed. It was a thin turquoise silk collar with a small black ribbon at the front and a silver bell that hung below the ribbon. Dan loved the colour of the collar, it reminded him of Phil’s eyes. He fastened it on and tapped the bell, letting it jingle.

Lastly, he put on the cat ears that matched the colour of his tail and his hair. He crawled in front of the mirror to take a look at himself. For a moment he contemplated if he should get some sharpie to draw whiskers on his face, but decided that’d turn him from sexy to cringey.

He was a little hard from fingering himself, and looking at himself like this just turned him on further. He turned a little to look at his tail, enjoying the feel of fur on his skin.

After a while of checking himself out, Dan finally crawled out of the room. He slowly made his way to Phil, who was on the sofa with his laptop. Phil immediately looked up when Dan entered the room. “Hey there, kitten,” he greeted.

Dan bumped his head against Phil’s shin, rubbed his cheek against Phil’s knee like an actual cat would. Phil chuckled and scratched Dan’s hair lightly.

“C’mon up, kitty,” Phil said, patting the space on the sofa next to him.

Dan managed to gracefully climb up onto the sofa, and he snuggled into Phil’s side, curling his body as much as he could. Phil smiled and played with the end of Dan’s tail.

“You must be hungry, kitten,” Phil said, moving to get the plate of sandwiches he’d prepared for Dan.

Dan hadn’t noticed the food on the coffee table, and he certainly hadn’t noticed how hungry he actually was, too busy having a breakdown and all. But at the sight of the tuna sandwich, his stomach growled.

Phil tore off a small piece and fed it to Dan, who gratefully accepted it. Phil stroked Dan’s hair as he chewed, making Dan hum contentedly.

They kept at it until the sandwich was gone. Every time Phil fed Dan the small bites, Dan kept Phil’s fingers between his lips just a little longer than necessary, looking up at Phil with big eyes and moaning softly in appreciation. He noticed how his actions were slowly making Phil hard, but Phil would just smile down at him and pat his hair and straighten his ears.

After the meal, Phil turned the tv on and continued patting Dan while he watched the tv, scratching under his chin sometimes and stroking his back other times. Dan purred, it felt so good. He felt so safe and cared for. He closed his eyes and just focused on the light touches he was getting from Phil.

“My kitty’s so pretty,” Phil commended, and Dan hid his face in Phil’s side to hide his blush, but he couldn’t stop himself from purring at the praise.

After a while, the pats slowed down and Phil just rested his hand on Dan’s back. Dan was happy being able to just lay there and be Phil’s pretty little kitty. In that moment, he didn’t have any assignments to stress over, no exams to study for, no grades to worry about, and absolutely no rude professors or coursemates to bring him down.

In that moment, the only thing that mattered to him was Phil. And his tail. He began playfully swatting at his tail, making Phil giggle.

They lounged like that for about half an hour, but then Dan got bored. His and Phil’s boners had both died down, and he wanted to change that. He propped his chin on Phil’s thigh and looked up at Phil.

Phil only responded by brushing his fingers in Dan’s hair absentmindedly. So, Dan slowly inched his face closer to Phil’s crotch. Phil finally looked down when he felt warm breath against his crotch.

“Mrow,” Dan tried to meow.

Phil smiled and tapped the bell on Dan’s collar. “Gettin’ bored, pet?”

“Mrrow,” Dan meowed again, and he nuzzled Phil’s crotch.

Phil couldn’t resist when Dan’s looking so cute like that, looking up at him with his big brown eyes in a cat-like manner. He smiled and unzipped his pants, but didn’t go any further. He wanted to see what his lil kitty had in mind.

Dan eyed Phil’s crotch hungrily. With his teeth, he pulled Phil’s underwear down just enough to get Phil’s dick out. It was barely hard, but that’s exactly how Dan wanted it. He wanted to feel it grow in his mouth.

Slowly, he took Phil’s soft cock in his mouth up to the hilt. He hollowed his cheeks. With his nose buried in Phil’s pubes and his lips meeting Phil’s crotch, Dan closed his eyes and hummed in content.

Phil’s breathing got a little shallower as he felt his cock twitch in the warmth of Dan’s mouth. But Dan wasn’t sucking on him, wasn’t trying to do anything to get him hard at all. He was just laying still and keeping Phil’s cock in his mouth.

Dan focused on breathing through his nose. Deep breaths that were made better as he could inhale his master’s scent with each breath. He rested his head on Phil’s thigh and felt the weight of Phil’s slowly growing cock on his tongue. He didn’t want to rush anything. He was glad Phil was taking his time as well.

Phil ran his hand through Dan’s curls softly. He knew what Dan was doing, so he tried his best not to get hard too quick so that Dan could enjoy cockwarming longer. Dan felt so calm and relaxed as he put all his attention on Phil’s cock. Every so often, he’d purr and feel Phil’s cock twitch and harden a bit more.

They continued lounging, Dan enjoying being a cocksleeve and Phil absentmindedly patting Dan’s head and stroking his back. After some time, Phil’s cock was almost fully hard.

“Enjoying yourself, kitten?” Phil asked softly.

Dan, who had been so still that Phil wasn’t sure if he’d fallen asleep, opened his eyes and blinked up at Phil. Batting his eyelashes, he hummed happily.

Phil let out a little moan. “Your warm mouth feels so good, pet,” he praised.

Dan felt Phil’s tip hit the back of his throat as it finally grew to full hardness. His lips were now stretched around Phil’s shaft, but he didn’t move, still content with just being a cockwarmer. His own cock was also hard, had been since he got Phil’s in his mouth, but he paid no mind. He briefly wondered if it was weird that cockwarming managed to calm him down, ground him and chase all his feelings of panic and stress away. God, does he love Phil’s cock.

Dan could hear Phil breathing heavier, understanding that he probably needed some stimulation. Yet Phil was still so kind, not rushing Dan to do anything, putting Dan’s needs first.

Without breaking eye contact with Phil, Dan slowly moved off, dragging his tongue along the underside of Phil’s cock as he did so. Phil let out a small moan and gripped Dan’s hair lightly, almost knocking Dan’s cat ears off his head.

Dan licked Phil’s slit, tasting a bit of precum. He swirled his tongue around the head before giving it small kitten licks.

“What a tease. Cheeky lil kitty, aren’t you?” Phil said almost breathlessly, and he felt Dan’s smile against his skin before he saw it.

Dan licked his way down Phil’s shaft to his balls. He got up on his elbows and knees and stuck his butt out in the air, swaying his tail about while he sucked on Phil’s balls. Phil stroked down Dan’s back and squeezed Dan’s ass, making Dan mew.

“Ah, good kitten,” Phil praised when Dan moved to finally properly suck on Phil and started bobbing his head.

Dan purred as he sucked on Phil, the vibrations making Phil’s toes curl. The bell on his collar jingled as he moved faster.

Dan sucked Phil all the way down til his nose poked Phil’s crotch, and he stayed for as long as he could. His gag reflex was long gone, he only moved up a little when he needed some air. Dan repeated his movements, deepthroating Phil who groaned in pleasure whenever he felt his tip reach the back of Dan’s throat.

Phil had one hand resting in Dan’s hair, and his other moved to Dan’s hard dick. Dan was so focused on pleasuring Phil that he was barely aware of his own erection. He didn’t even feel the desire to come, gaining pleasure purely from giving Phil pleasure.

But as Phil started stroking Dan’s cock, Dan couldn’t help the little mews he let out while he continued to blow Phil. He thrusted his hips into Phil’s fist while bobbing his head at the same rhythm.

“Good pet, so beautiful like this,” Phil praised again, moving his hand away from Dan’s cock to stroke his tail and push the plug into Dan further. Dan moaned in response, arching his back and wiggling his ass.

Dan pulled off of Phil and licked his red lips. He nuzzled Phil’s crotch, taking his time. He didn’t want to rush things. Ending the scene quicker meant facing reality sooner.

Phil had went back to stroking Dan’s cock lazily. He really needed to come, was so tempted to push his cock past Dan’s swollen lips. But he let Dan go at his own pace, nosing his balls, purring when Phil twisted his hand in his hair.

Dan licked up the stripe of precum leaking down Phil’s cock before sucking him again. He had begun leaking precum as well, and Phil stroked him faster, making him moan around Phil’s cock.

They were both so close to the edge already, moaning and panting as their movements sped up. Dan eagerly sucked on Phil while massaging his balls, feeling Phil tremble in pleasure.

“I’m close, pet,” Phil panted, stroking Dan quickly so they’d come together.

Dan meowed in agreement with his mouth full of Phil’s cock. He hummed as he bobbed his head faster, encouraging Phil to orgasm. His hips were thrusting urgently into Phil’s fist.

Phil came with a loud groan, and Dan followed almost immediately. Dan moaned as he came, but never took his mouth off Phil’s cock as he swallowed Phil’s cum. Phil continued stroking Dan albeit erratically, and Dan’s cum spilled all over his hand.

Dan only pulled off when he was sure he’d swallowed every drop of Phil’s cum. He looked down himself to see Phil’s hand wrapped loosely around his softening cock. He pawed at it until Phil brought his hand closer to his face, then he licked up his own cum, cleaning Phil’s hand.

Phil was panting, and he looked at his kitty lap up his own cum on his palm through half lidded eyes. “So hot, kitten,” he commented.

When Dan was done, he licked his lips then rested his head on Phil’s thigh, looking up at Phil with wide, adoring eyes.

“Love you, kitty,” Phil said softly, petting Dan’s cat ears. Dan purred, then he gave a light peck on Phil’s crotch and tucked Phil back into his pants using his teeth.

Dan wished he could stay in his kitten headspace forever. He was so comfortable, with his cheek resting on Phil’s thigh. He felt so blissed, so safe and calm. He closed his eyes and purred softly.

Phil pet Dan’s hair for a while, but he knew letting a sub go to sleep while in a different headspace is not a good idea. He nudged his thigh a little, making Dan grumble softly.

“C’mon kitty, let’s go to the bedroom. Better than falling asleep here,” he suggested.

Dan whined, but got up on all fours. He yawned and pandiculated his back just like a cat would. He looked up at Phil, who’d already stood up, sleepily.

Phil smiled fondly and tried to pick Dan up like he would a cat, but Dan was so big that he ended up carrying him bridal style. Dan nuzzled against Phil’s neck as Phil walked to the room.

Phil gently put Dan on the bed, and Dan stayed on all fours. “So good for me, aren’t you?” Phil praised quietly, nuzzling his nose against Dan’s.

He pecked Dan lightly on the lips and stroked his cheek. “I love you so much,” Phil continued, noticing how Dan’s eyes began to water.

“I’m always here to take care of you,” Phil whispered reassuringly as he moved behind Dan, “Let’s get ready for bed, yeah.”

He stroked Dan’s tail, and Dan swayed his hips a little. Phil heard Dan sigh as he slowly pulled the tail plug out. He stroked the smooth skin of Dan’s ass before moving back to face his boy.

Dan looked up at Phil with wide, glassy eyes as Phil removed his cat ears. Phil tapped the bell on his collar one last time before unfastening it. He quickly placed all the toys on the bedside drawer and undressed, then returned to Dan. He gestured for Dan to lie down.

Dan curled into Phil’s side as soon as they laid down. He didn’t want to leave his headspace, but he could feel Phil pulling him out of it. Phil held him close and he listened with his eyes shut to whispered praises and positive words, willing himself not to cry.

Phil stroked his hair, hugged him, kissed his forehead gently. “You okay, Dan?” he checked in quietly after a while.

Dan opened his eyes and looked up into caring blue irises. “Yes, Phil,” he gave a small smile, “thank you.”

Phil returned his smile. He knows his boy was strong, and he’d make sure to always be by his side to help him get through anything.

“I love you,” Dan whispered. He felt so so grateful to have Phil, to have someone who cared that much about him. Someone who wouldn’t take advantage of him when he was vulnerable, someone who wasn’t put off by his outbursts and breakdowns. Someone who would instead pick him back up and remind him of his worth. Someone who knew exactly what his needs were, and would act on them with no hesitation.

“I love you too,” Phil whispered back. He watched as Dan drifted off to sleep against his chest. He knows they’d make it through anything, as long as they were together, where they belonged.

This is probably the last chapter of Where You Belong. I had fun writing it and I’m glad many of you enjoy it too <3 Sad to end this series, but hey it means I can start on new stuff :)

If you guys loved this series, it’d mean a lot to me if you guys nominated WYB in phanficawards <3

#phan smut #Phanfic #phan #phan fic #phansmut #My fic #dom!phil #sub!dan #where you belong

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rebustein94-blog · 7 years

Text

And It’s Still Not Even 9 AM

So far, downtown Erie, PA hasn’t exactly shown itself to be any more habitable than the bowels of the Chicago Union Depot.

I stumbled onto its streets at about 7:30 in the morning, after traveling all night from Chicago. The main thing I’ve learned about taking the Amtrak at night is that they seem to blast cold air through the vents, turning the entire train into one giant glacier, barreling along the dark tracks while inside, everybody shivers themselves to sleep. It’s terrible and unending and when it’s finally, miraculously over, somebody’s covered you with greasy ice during that one half hour you actually slept.

This was the state I was dragging around with me when I walked to my AirBnb apartment in downtown Erie. I was pretty sure I had the address memorized, so I marched up to 433 and rooted around the mailbox, which was tacked to the wall on the front porch, for the key I had been promised. I didn’t find the key, but the door opened as I was standing there. So that seemed, like, fortuitous. A kid of about twelve blinked out at me. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder.

Christ, I realized. School hasn’t even started yet.

“Hello,” I croaked. “Ahem. Do you, uh…know Larry?”

“No,” said the kid. I was pretty sure he was pretty sure I was a murderer.

“Is this 433?” I asked.

“Yeah.” The kid started to close the door on me. Not that I could blame him.

“You know what,” I said, “I’ll try around back.”

I went around the side of the house to the side door. There was another mailbox there. I opened its rusty lid and voila! The key!

I opened the door, almost tearful for the imminent shower, nap, contact removal (mine were basically laminated to my eyeballs at this point). As soon as I stepped inside, though, I knew I had the wrong fucking place. The interior was completely bare and covered in dust. A layer of carpet had been recently removed, according to the barrier of tacks sticking up all over the edges of the floor. Paint cans were scattered throughout the rooms. Turned-over chairs, peeled tiling. The works.

Well, hey, I thought. He said the upstairs was mine. So maybe I just walk through here to get to it.

Ever hopeful, I crept through the abandoned home, trying not to turn too fast and whack my bags against anything. Like hobos or ghosts. I found a door at the far end of the apartment and, on the other side, voila! The stairs!

I trudged up to the second level and immediately realized that I was looking for 443, not 433. I got to the top of the stairs just as I realized this, and peered through an open door into a living room littered with toys. A baby was screaming somewhere. A hair dryer blowing.

I noped silently down the steps, backwards.

443 looked a lot more promising. It looked like a full, white, normal house. Someone had even written in Sharpie, “This is 443” on its side. So that was helpful.

I checked and double-checked the listing on AirBnb. I triple-checked it on Google maps, matched the image there to the one I was standing in front of. I analyzed the map to make sure I had it absolutely right. I went back to the AirBnb app and checked it again. I went on checking everything and double-checking it for several minutes. I did all of this because inside the mailbox on the front porch was nothing but air.

There was no key.

My addled brain went, “Mmmyeeagghh,” and decided to check again. Because you never know! Of course, the damn thing did not magically appear, which was a bummer. I checked everything again just to be safe. I was definitely in the right place. I went around the side and checked that mailbox. You never know!

No key.

I sent my guy, Larry, a message. Waited. Called him. Waited. Called. Waited.

Maybe I’ll think more clearly if I get some food, I decided.

There was a gas station/ “Casual dining” joint (according to the sign) back down the road a ways. I dragged my ass back to it and discovered that they meant “casual” dining as seriously as is possible. See, I expected a diner or something. Maybe a shitty café. A deli. Ah, no. It was a gas station with tables at one end. Casual indeed. I bought a soggy wrap for four measly bucks and choked it down. Slumped into a chair in the corner and rocked back and forth as I tried to figure out what to do.

A man sat down across from me. He had large, sad, dead eyes and he used them to give me a hard look. He was broad-shouldered and old. We stared at each other for several moments. He folded his hands on top of the table. I put my hands on top of the table. For the sake of form.

“I wonder,” he said, “if you can do an army vet a favor.”

I blinked at him.

“You ever heard of Desert Storm?”

I sighed. “Yes, I’ve heard of Desert Storm.”

He leaned forward. “I need six dollars. Six lousy dollars to buy a ticket.”

“Dude, I really don’t have any money. Here.” I dug around in my pocket and took out a jumble of coins. “There’s about a buck-fifty.”

“I need six dollars,” he repeated. His voice sounded like it was on the verge of cracking and leaking tears.

“It’s all I’ve got,” I said.

“There’s an ATM right there,” he said, pointing.

I spread my hands. My chest hurt. I wanted him to implode and leave me alone. “Look, man. It’s really all the money I’ve got.”

He gave me a sad, distant look. It said something like, “You’re really not going to help a man who can ask if you’ve heard of Desert Storm?”

I shrugged, hoping the shrug said, “Sorry, man. That’s it. Anybody can ask if I’ve heard of Desert Storm.”

He rose from the table, muttering, shaking his head. He ambled off. I kept my coins.

I decided to get the hell out of there and see if anything at the apartment had changed. You never know! I walked the two blocks back only to discover that, obviously, nothing had. I sat around for a while, giving this Larry guy the benefit of the doubt. I called him. Waited. Called. Waited. Texted him. Waited. Finally, I tried to get in touch with the AirBnb help center. There’s a long rigmarole you have to go through on the app in order to get to any kind of helpful page, and when you do, that page reads simply, “I can’t check in. What do I do?”

I clicked on that, seeing as it was my only option.

The thing to do, apparently, is let AirBnb send the host a message for you. As if they have a number you don’t, or something. If the host doesn’t respond within an hour, the reservation gets canceled and you can get a full refund.

I sent the request and stared at the ground.

An hour! Sweet God! What to do for an hour?!

I gazed down the street towards the gas station. The only other things around were a CVS, a thrift shop, a dark broken-windowed Greek restaurant, and a place called Sally. Not even Sally’s, as in Sally’s Café or anything. Just Sally. Like, Go inside and there’s Sally. Or whatever it meant.

I figured Sally was probably not a safe bet so, grumbling, I went back to the gas station. Halfway down the block, I tripped over a bone. A bone! Some kind of leg or something. On the sidewalk! Christ! About twenty seconds later, I was swarmed by three or four skinheads with face tattoos, each wielding a cell phone and trying to get in touch with Cleo.

As I passed them, one was saying to the other, “Fucking bitch stole our fucking dope and ran off up the street. Goddamn Cleo.”

Geez, Cleo. It’s not even 9 am yet.

Within thirty seconds of entering the gas station’s “casual dining” area, dropping my bags there for the second time in less than an hour, I was accosted by a man whose left cheek was just a large boil.

He sat at the table next to mine, shaking his head. He kept saying loudly, “Oh man. Oh man, oh man. Hey, man.” He pointed his boil-face my way.

I stared at him blankly.

“You from around here?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“You got a cell phone number?”

I looked down at the cell phone in my hand.

“No,” I said.

“I’m getting my car towed,” he explained. “And I don’t have the cash to deal with it. So I need to go borrow some. Do you have a cell phone?”

“No,” I said, holding one.

“The tow truck will cost thirteen bucks. So I have to borrow some. Can you hold onto my military ID and do you have a cell number?”

He took out his wallet. Handed me his ID.

“Why do I have this?” I asked.

“Well,” he said, as if it were obvious, “you got a cell number? I have to borrow thirteen bucks. I have to get it.”

It was then that I realized he wasn’t looking at me as he spoke. He was looking past me, out the window to the curb. And I realized, too, that he wasn’t “borrowing” anything.

He was going to panhandle for the money.

I nearly shot out of my seat. “Lemme just give you thirteen dollars, man.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I was gonna buy coffee anyway. I’ll just get change.”

“Oh, thank you, man. Thank you.”

I wandered away into the store, kicking myself. Feeling like I might cry. Thirteen dollars? Why would I give away so much? Especially after so many incidents with things like this. Especially after the infamous NOLA shoe-cleaning incident. How could I just fork over the money like this?

Because I had it, is the answer. Because I could.

A scream boiled in the back of my throat.

When I got back to our casual little corner, the guy eyed the money in my hand and said, “With tax, it’s actually seventeen bucks.”

Which is hysterical, because that’s the exact amount of change I had.

I shoved it at him.

“Here,” I said.

“Thanks, man. Oh, thanks.” And he bolted out of there quicker than lightning.

I sat and waited.

***

I watched the clock, nervous that the AirBnb guy might call with a minute or two to spare, and that then I’d be stuck in his crazy-ass home. But he never did. The hour passed without a hitch. So I snagged my full refund as soon as the option to do so popped up on my phone. I booked another hotel in a matter of seconds, just a few minutes away. I schlepped my shit another couple blocks closer to the lakeshore, to this new hotel. I heard choirs of angels “Ha-ah-ahh”-ing and trumpets blaring as I dumped my bags again, now onto the floor of the hotel lobby. Then I looked up and saw the sign: Check-in 3:00 pm.

Thank God they’ll be merciful! was a weird and unbelievable thought I had.

Of course, they were not merciful. Of course, I asked the woman at the desk, “Is there any way at all I can check in early?”

And, of course, she said, “There’s a $50 early check-in fee.”

I threw back my head and laughed. “Yes! Good!”

“But after noon, it goes down to twenty-five.”

“Ho-ho! Brilliant!”

She agreed to hold onto my bags for several hours while I tried to entertain myself in Erie. My head was throbbing. My feet hurt. Everything about me felt dirty and reeked of train. And it was cold. Painfully cold. Winds driving off the lake into my very soul.

The first interesting place I came across was the maritime museum, where a coterie of old men proceeded to shanghai me and explain the extraordinary significance of the reconstruction club they had. The group had rebuilt and maintained the ship the Niagara, which had won a decisive battle on Lake Erie during the War of 1812 (in a battle actually fought in the fall of 1813). Now, there’s a large number of volunteers and professionals who keep the ship running and even live on it. They have to pass inspections and things. Like there’s a whole board of people deciding whether or not your ship is authentic enough or not. Which means there’s hundreds of these kinds of groups. Hundreds of these kinds of ships.

As the guy was explaining it to me and the only two other people there (a young couple who really loved boats and kept asking a mind-boggling number of questions), I kept thinking, Why? Why do this? Why keep it all going like this? Why maintain the past with such fervor?

“What’s the name of the exact mechanism that lowers the anchor?” asked the young guy next to me, playing with the gold chain around his neck with his thumb.

Our old tour guide gave him some complicated answer that soared above my head.

“Gnarly,” said the young guy, clearly impressed.

We got to go onboard the ship and see all the work the volunteers did, and then, somehow, I got it. I understood. Because living and working on a ship like that looks fucking awesome. To eat and sleep below-decks? To learn the names and functions of all the ropes and sails and things and not have to worry about British cannonfire? Or scurvy? What a dream!

Not a word of the old man’s tour passed low enough for me to catch it. Most of it was too deeply mired in nautical terms and ship-speak to not go over my sleepy, sleepy head. But I enjoyed it nonetheless.

So, anyway, I managed to kill a few hours learning about ships and the Niagara and Oliver Hazard Perry, who was the Erie bigshot back in 1813. Despite zooming in and out of everything that was happening, and sometimes losing my balance, and wanting a nap and a shower more than anything else on God’s green Earth, I’m actually really glad check-in time was so late. I’m glad I never heard from ole 443. I never would have gone to the maritime museum.

Ah, silver linings...

God, am I beat, though.

And it’s not even 3 now!

Wow!

I still have to wait!

Could this day get any better?!

(Erie, PA)

#carl #ships #niagara #warof1812 #pennsylvania

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