stilesthesarcasticstilinski:

iamthefirechild:

stilesxthesarcasticstilinski:

Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”

She wasn’t even sure she could do this /without/ touching him, and touching him was a short-circuit for her brain. Planting both hands on the floor, she spread the fingers out and stared at them, trying to feel her way into emotion without drowning in it. It was an overlay, that was incredibly clear. If she had to put it into words, she would say it looked like someone had wrapped a cloud of translucent fabric around his normal self. Or like heat, pouring off his body.

Summer looked up at Stiles, green irises wide around pinprick pupils. Unconsciously, she lifted a hand. She imagined what she was doing as wrapping him in coolth, like spraying him with water, driving away the heat.

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, concentrating on Summer as she seemed to work her… magic? Empathy? Whatever he could call it, it seemed to be working. It was an immediate relief; like he could breathe again. “Oh my god! Thank you so much!”

Summer breathed hard, eyes falling out of focus. “I don’t know what happens if I let go,” she said, through gritted teeth. “I also don’t know if I can hold it for long.” She found a tiny little piece of concentration and forced herself to remember to breathe, slowly and carefully.

stilesthesarcasticstilinski:

iamthefirechild:

stilesxthesarcasticstilinski:

Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”

“You are a liar,” she snarled. “When I touched you a minute ago, you jerked back and went ‘what the hell was that’ just like you felt something. Besides — the other thing.” She shifted, starting to get up, and half-swallowed a moan at the way her jeans rubbed against her. It was ironic that it wasn’t even her shields that were keeping her forebrain in control right now; it was years of wanting and telling herself ‘no’. Swallowing hard, she muttered, “I cannot leave you alone like this.”

“Because you fucking jumped back like I hurt you!” Stiles groaned hearing her moan. “I’ll jerk off or something. You’re not helping.”

“It was like being hit in the face with a paintbomb of emotion, okay?” Summer bit her lip and dragged herself to her knees. “And whatever is going on with you, if I touch you it goes right past my shields. It’s practically fucking contagious, and I’m /still/ not leaving you alone without trying to help. Real help.”

stilesthesarcasticstilinski:

iamthefirechild:

stilesxthesarcasticstilinski:

Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”

She gaped at him for a second. “How did you — you said you didn’t feel anything!” She flung herself at his knees, intending to knock him down and sit on him for obfuscating the truth. It didn’t quite work out that way; instead her hand hit his bare skin and she jolted away in a different direction, curling up around the lightning strike of lust that pulsed through her. “Fuck,” she spat, unintentionally.

Stiles pushed her off and scrambled across the floor. “What the fuck, Summer?! I didn’t! You could clearly feel what I was feeling. Jesus,” he said, clawing his way up the wall to stand. “What don’t you just go?!”

“You are a liar,” she snarled. “When I touched you a minute ago, you jerked back and went ‘what the hell was that’ just like you felt something. Besides — the other thing.” She shifted, starting to get up, and half-swallowed a moan at the way her jeans rubbed against her. It was ironic that it wasn’t even her shields that were keeping her forebrain in control right now; it was years of wanting and telling herself ‘no’. Swallowing hard, she muttered, “I cannot leave you alone like this.”

stilesthesarcasticstilinski:

iamthefirechild:

stilesxthesarcasticstilinski:

Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”

Furiously, she said, “Not like that!” Aw, hell. “I, uh, Stiles. This is not how I wanted you to find this out.” She slid down the wall and sat with her knees propped up, staring at him. “I — I’m an empath. I might be able to — to suppress it.”

“Well what the hell else was I supposed to think?” He asked, arms crossed in front of his chest. “Yeah. I gathered the empath part… Do you think you can actually suppress?”

She gaped at him for a second. “How did you — you said you didn’t feel anything!” She flung herself at his knees, intending to knock him down and sit on him for obfuscating the truth. It didn’t quite work out that way; instead her hand hit his bare skin and she jolted away in a different direction, curling up around the lightning strike of lust that pulsed through her. “Fuck,” she spat, unintentionally.

stilesthesarcasticstilinski:

iamthefirechild:

stilesxthesarcasticstilinski:

Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”

“I can’t leave you here like this!” she objected. “Not without trying to help. I’m probably the only person you know who /can/ help!”

Stiles gave her a side eye. “… How do you plan on helping, exactly?”

Furiously, she said, “Not like that!” Aw, hell. “I, uh, Stiles. This is not how I wanted you to find this out.” She slid down the wall and sat with her knees propped up, staring at him. “I — I’m an empath. I might be able to — to suppress it.”

stilesthesarcasticstilinski:

iamthefirechild:

stilesxthesarcasticstilinski:

Stiles slammed his laptop shut as he walked over to the widow, cracking it so he could speak to Summer. “H-hey… Uh… Whatcha doing?”

Summer rubbed at the back of her head and stared at him, wide-eyed. “But — you — how did — Stiles, what the hell is going on?” Pulling her hand down, she looked at it, then back up to him. “How could you possibly have felt anything other than,” she flushed darkly, “what’s already there?”

Stiles stared at Summer’s hand, trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing. Answering her. Right. “I hang out with… interesting people. It’s… I didn’t feel… something other than the other stuff. Just… You’re acting weird.”

“/I’m/ acting weird? /Me/? You won’t even look at me properly! You — what is going on? How are you not just on the ground — I have never in my life felt anybody be so overwhelmed by an emotion they weren’t actually expressing!” She swallowed hard, groping at her throat for her necklace. He was feeling so strongly she could hardly keep it out, and only years of stern control kept her shields up.