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acowardinmordor · 7 months

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You Left Me - You Miss Me - Six

Sup, I finally wrote the next part. Mostly because of someone trying to find it via the fic finder blog, which gave me a big ol spike in anxiety about the lack of update.

Part One .... Part Four - Part Five

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“Rob, no.”

“Don’t you tell me ‘no,’ Steven Dingus Harrington!”

“You can’t drive to Hawkins and kill the guy.”

“Oh yes I can! I'll take your bat with me!”

“Babe, you still don’t know how to drive, and I have work in the morning so I can’t take you.”

“I’ll figure it out on the way!”

She wouldn’t. She wasn't going to drive to Hawkins. She would definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent kill Munson if she had the chance and Steve didn’t talk her out of it, but Robin wasn’t going to leave him alone when he’d had a breakdown an hour earlier. She wouldn’t let him sleep alone for the next few days, and she would go to work with him in the morning, and she’d probably skip her Stats class so she could stick by him after work too.

It took Robin about thirty seconds to realize something had happened.

That was the gap between her opening the car door, and Steve speaking. All he said was “hey, Robs” and she cut off her ramble about chlorofluorocarbons. The same way he could tell by the sound of her stirring soup, or which color eye shadow she wore, she knew immediately something had happened.

She touched his arm.

And he had a breakdown in the college parking lot.

Steve updated the tag on the side of the box and put it back on the shelf. He was,technically, working. Robin was ranting and using a tie-dye shirt as a prop.

“You don’t need to crash our car trying to go kill a guy I’m not even mad at.”

“Ugh,” she flapped the shirt at him and slouched against the edge of the shelving unit. “Why not? Why are you not mad at him? How? I’m mad at him! He took the kids away from you! They’re annoying little shitheads but you loved them and he jus---”

“Rob,” he interrupted softly. He couldn’t get into that side of it right now.

“Sorry. Sorry. But you’re not this nice, Stevie. You’re wonderfully bitchy and petty and it’s one of my favorite things about you, and I don’t get this. He sucks! This was super shitty! Why aren’t you mad at him for being an asshole?”

“It’s not his fault.”

“He said it was his fault!”

Eddie blamed himself, and maybe it was his fault, but it didn’t matter. Not in comparison.

“Are you going to inventory anything tonight, or is this just going to be me?”

“No! And why are you working?”

Because if he stopped, if he let himself turn his full attention towards it, he was going to fall apart again, and stupid as it was, checking inventory used up just enough of his focus that he couldn’t drown. Steve flicked through the stack of size smalls, and wrote it down on the list. “Uh, because we’re at work?”

“We both work tomorrow tonight and there is no way that Mary or Nick have ever looked at the stock sheets in their life, they aren’t going to look tomorrow either. No one will know.”

“I’ll know.” He glanced up to make eye contact for a second, and she caved with a groan.

“If you were anyone but my soulmate, buddy…” She folded the shirt terribly, shoved it into the gap between the cardboard and the other shirts, and finally closed the box.

Letting the silence settle gave Steve a minute to breathe, and reset himself without the rising tension. She knew that, and waited until, unspoken, she knew he was ready to keep going.

“Steve.”

“I am mad, Robs. I am. You know that it’s.. At the kids, and at Hopper, and at myself for agreeing to this stupid idea, but I’m not mad at him.”

“Why does he get special treatment?”

Hearing how that sounded, he tried again, “No, uh. I’m mad at him, but, like, the same way you get mad when the grandma in the crosswalk is going really slow and then drops something and goes back, and you end up stuck waiting again even though you should have made it through the light before. Yeah, it sucks, but it’s not like grandma was doing it specifically to fuck with you. She’s just, you know, shopping or whatever.

“It wasn’t like there was a friendship there that he betrayed. He did something for his own life and it was sorta sucky, and it sucks for me, but he feels really shitty about it, so I don’t think he meant for them to, you know, vanish.”

Robin thumbed down the stack of Levis, whispering the count as she went. Three more sizes got counted before she responded.

“You carried him out of there. You saved his life.”

Steve hummed absently. “He wasn’t bleeding that bad. His trash lid kept most of them off. I panicked when I saw blood and picked him up.”

“And that doesn’t make you friends?”

“It’s not like I only saved him because it was him. Not like I stopped and thought about whether I should get the bleeding guy to the hospital. Lifeguard, remember?”

The other half of the thought, he bit back. He’d had nightmares about Billy after Starcourt. Dreams where he could have saved him, and didn’t. Where he could have saved Max from having to see that, having to recover from that. He saw Eddie bleeding, he saw one of his kids screaming, and there wasn’t a thought in his head. Just the need not to let it happen again. Not again. Not Dustin too.

He kept his eyes on the inventory form so she didn’t see that part.

“Still think it should have mattered more. Life saving creates friendships.”

“He was unconscious. I know you don’t know much about how guys act with each other, but generally both dudes are awake when they become friends.”

She snorted at his weak joke, throwing her pencil at him. It wasn’t anywhere near her.

“New record, champ, that one wasn’t even close enough for me to pretend to dodge it.”

“Ugh, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Robs.”

He got through a full set of kids dress shirts in peace, counted and listed. Then he pulled down the crate of kid’s dresses, next on the list to check.

The whole can of worms would tear open when, if, when Eddie showed up with something from the kids. There was no version of that day that wouldn’t end with him falling apart. If he skimmed them, if he burned them, if he read them, if he wrote back, if he refused to take them at all, it didn’t matter. He was going to fall to pieces.

If they wrote and it was real, if it was petty, if it was anger, if it was grief, if it was gloating he was gone, if it was begging him to come back, if it was proof that it was always fake, always a temporary placeholder until they found someone they actually like. The imminent breakdown was going to be bad no matter what.

Like those safety videos in school about seat belts.

Like knowing the car crash was coming, knowing it couldn’t be stopped, and knowing that nothing he did was going to make it any easier to bear. Slow motion, watching a car come -- a beat up old van come towards him. No time to put on a seat belt, no way to brace for it, just accept that it was going to happen and hope you survived.

Robin cleared her throat to get his attention, and Steve blinked back to himself.

“Did, uh, did you say something?”

Robin watched him for a minute. He let her this time. It was easier to let her see what he was feeling than try to turn it into words, and he needed her to let it go for now..

“I’m going to skip my bio lecture on Friday afternoon.”

“Birdie, you don’t--”

“You are going to call in sick at the skate rink. We are going to make snickerdoodles and brownies and the cracker bark thing, and order pizza, and we’re going to make ourselves sick eating too much, and we’re going to watch some random movie on mute and make up our own story and dialogue. Got it?”

“Got it,” he smiled.

And it wasn’t going to make it all better. Eating two pounds of butter in a day wasn’t going to make it easier when Eddie showed up, but it was like hitting pause on that video. Car crash was still coming, but he could look away for a while.

***

Steve clung to the pass shelf from the kitchen as the expected car crash hit him on Monday. John, always eager for the chance to throw someone out of the diner, looked over Steve’s shoulder. It was a nice moment. A nice little thought before he had to face what he’d agreed to. If he asked, John would throw Eddie out. Literally. Nice image, but not the one he got to see.

Instead, he declined the offer, and grabbed the plates.

“Gimme a minute,” he mumbled to Eddie, heading to the sweet elderly couple celebrating the birth of their second granddaughter with a leisurely breakfast. If he spent an extra minute talking to them, complimenting the polaroid of what seemed to be some kind of mashed potato swaddled in white and pink, it was to get a good tip, not because he was stalling.

Eddie hadn’t moved when he got back. He was a step back from the counter, stiff, holding a paper grocery bag under one arm, eyes trained on the ugly teal of the stool’s seat.

“Well?” Steve asked bitchily, “Did you bring milk and eggs and bread, honey?”

He put it on the counter, clutching the folded top hard, like he was making sure it stayed shut.

Like it was full of spiders or something. Mutual sentiment.

Steve grabbed it, tossing it onto the shelf where they kept personal belongings and the leftovers they’d called dibs on. He hadn’t expected Eddie Munson to be up to Franklin at eight am on a Monday. Eddie wasn’t a morning person. Steve thought he’d have a few more hours to brace. Now he had to deal with customers while that bag burned a hole in the back of his head.

Luckily, Rebecca was serious when she said he could get mean with guests if he wanted to. Today wasn’t a want. It was going to be a necessity.

Eddie was still standing there.

“You can tell them I got it, or whatever,” he tried to dismiss him.

Something that looked like the tortured remains of a smile flickered on Eddie’s face. He gave up after a second and nodded too many times. “Thanks. Thank you. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, right?”

It took a minute for Steve to catch up to the question.

“I haven’t said I’m going to answer them. Or open them. Or keep them.”

Eddie was quiet for a minute, still not looking up, and Steve’s Travel-Size-Robin was vibrating with the need to make him so they could guess what the hell he was thinking.

“Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday mornings?” he repeated.

“Yeah. Sure, yeah,” Steve gave up.

Eddie left, and Steve did the entire day’s front of house prep before Susan got in, trying to keep his head away from that damn bag.

***

Steve didn’t open it.

He fell asleep in Robin’s bed, grateful he didn’t have other work that evening, and doubly grateful when she made him eat some crackers and drink some water before they passed out for the night.

If he was waiting for the impact the day before, seeing Eddie again the next day was so unexpected that the crash whooshed past him without an impact. He didn’t sit down, and he looked a little rough, probably from driving to Franklin in the early morning twice in two days.

“Do you have…?”

“No? No,” Steve boggled at him, “How could I have anything for you to even -- No. Man, no.”

Eddie nodded.

Eddie left.

***

Steve stared at the bag instead of taking a nap before their shift in the stockroom. Didn’t open it, that was way, way beyond him, but he did manage to look directly at it, and it was only a few saltines, but he did successfully eat.

Robin, angel, light of his life, soulmate and perfect person got in the car after class, handed him a kinda gross protein bar that she stole from an athlete in her class who she didn’t like, and made him eat it.

She didn’t make him talk about the bag shaped elephant in their apartment, and she spent the entire shift explaining the way Ann Carson’s translations of Greek plays had totally shifted how people read them, making them more accessible, and how the push to do the same with Shakespeare was incredible.

When he went to crawl into his own bed that night, she grumbled, brought her favorite pillow, and climbed in after him.

***

Eddie walked in at quarter to seven, right after three four tops seated.

“No.”

“Okay. Yeah.” Eddie looked small, probably because he was speaking at a normal volume, sounding like a normal human, which ran opposite to how Eddie was in Hawkins. He also looked like crap.

“Why are you here, dude? You hate mornings. You don’t have to leave that early, I work until one.”

Eddie scrunched his face, but didn’t answer that.

“No?” he asked instead.

Someone at table six shouted ‘waiter!’

“I’ll bring your coffee in a damn minute!” Steve yelled back, half turning with the carafe in his hand.

“Steve?”

“Look, I don’t have anything for you. Nothing. You don’t need to waste your time. I haven’t opened it.”

“There’s more than one -- oh,” Eddie scrubbed over his face. “Okay. Yeah. Okay. Do-- Are you going to? Open it.”

Thinking about opening it made him want to run away to Canada.

Thinking about never knowing made him want to puke.

Whatever weird face Steve made was something Eddie could translate. He only raised his head for a moment, just long enough to look. But then he covered his face with both hands, taking a deep breath that shuddered on the exhale.

“See you Monday,” he said as a goodbye.

“Where’s my coffee?” the same guy yelled. Steve didn’t have the energy to deal with customers and whatever the fuck was going on with Eddie’s early morning emotional mess.

“Wait a second,” he complained to both of them at once. Steve grabbed one of the big mugs, the ones they used for the expensive hot chocolate, filled it with coffee, and set the pour jar of sugar next to it. He looked from Eddie to the cup, pointedly. “Don’t crash. Bring the cup back with you.”

The asshole yelled for him again, and Steve turned on the terrifyingly polite smile that Robin had helped him hone. Then he deployed it on the asshole at table six.

---------------

We are headed towards Steddie, on a path that will, hopefully, not feel like I brushed off all this to get there. However. Wow, they're hurting right now. You can't have Eddie's pov yet, it would spoil things, but. just. trust me. ow.

Still don't do tag lists. Once I know how many parts it'll be, this will go to Ao3, promise.

#You left me - you miss me #steddie #my writing #angst

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cdragons · 4 months

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 3

Previous Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. But goddamn, Oliver Quick was a fucking close runner-up.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, slight mention of blood, sexual harassment, Felix is delulu and kind of a pig, Reader just wants some fucking peace, Michael is Michael and the best, Oliver is Oliver (the worst)

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone who commented and reblogged! I didn't expect this story to gain so many readers, and this was a challenging chapter to write - but only because there were some scenes I couldn't add because it would have gotten too long otherwise.

If there was a God out there, you prayed for the coming term to be as wonderful as this holiday had been for you.

You really wanted to kick yourself in the pants for making such a fucking cheesy wish at night watching the stars with Michael.

Right now, you were leaning to rest your head against a bookshelf in a slant position. You had a splitting migraine that began from the moment you woke up and worsened with nausea from your tutorial. And you couldn’t even go back to your dorm for the rest of the day because your lab course for your gen-ed didn’t allow for absences.

“What’d she do now?” came a voice on your right.

You looked to the right and were blinded by a white and blue-striped button-down shirt with short sleeves tucked into a pair of tan khaki pants.

Your knight-in-silver-framed glasses, Michael Gavey, everyone.

All the guy was missing was a pocket protector with pens and tape wrapped around the bridge, and he would have matched every bullied kid in every high school movie set in the 80s.

You turned around to lean your back against the bookshelves and slowly lowered yourself until your butt was parallel to your feet. Blowing the stray hairs out of your face, you remembered to take deep breaths to prevent you from blowing up at your only friend.

“No,” you sighed, “well – yes, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Do you love your classes? Yes. Was Daria Martin still your art teacher, and did she still like you? Yes. Are the rest of your teachers mostly assholes that think all Americans are Appalachian hill-billies? Also, yes. But were you still not excelling and scoring in the top ten after every exam? Naturally, no doubt about it.

But were you as invisible and unnoticed as you were before the break came? No. Did anyone with a pulse give you side-eyed glances after your stunt with the 24/7 shit-faced He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named? Pretty much, yes. Did most of your problems come from one mythic bitch in a 5’3” flesh suit that had the ‘Juicy’ logo plastered on her ass? Namely, one in particular, Annabel – who was your assigned student partner in your tutorial.

Was your new name among the student body now “Psycho Bitch”? …Unfortunately, yes.

…Okay, so this term has not been going as well as you had hoped during the break.

Annabel hated you – like hated-HATED you. And you had no idea why.

You were pretty sure you were less than blank air to her last term, but now she was determined to make your life a living hell. Last term, she skipped every other session to do whatever Annabel did. But now, it felt like she came to every tutorial for the opportunity to tear apart your work.

You’re pretty confident she was the one who started your new “name” about a few weeks ago when the weather began to warm up.

It’s not as if you were a stranger to being picked and prodded by the people born with silver spoons on their tongues and blessed with golden-tipped wings. You were a public-school kid from grades K-12 who went to Townsend Harris for those last four years. Townsend Harris High School was a public school, but make no mistake – it was just as full of the same bullshit hierarchy that made up every private school in Manhattan.

"Open the doors to all. Let the children of the rich and the poor take their seats together and know of no distinction save that of industry, good conduct, and intellect."

What crock. You only survived those years because every kid knew that your dad was an NYU professor who knew the Dean of Admissions of Columbia. You couldn’t recall how often you wished you had joined your friends at Flushing High or even Bayside.

However, regardless of the snide snarks and bullshit snickers pointed at you, you were left alone for the most part.

Sure – it sucked; that goes without saying. It was naïve of you to assume that people would grow out of the need for drama once they walked through the ivory doors and marble floors of higher education. It was stupid of you to think that everyone would forget about your outburst at Bodleian while they were getting drunk on the New Year.

And while Annabel was one migraine-inducing problem, she wasn’t the worst part of returning. No, that title belonged to her boyfriend, a whole other can of monkeys.

The worst part – the worst part of EVERYTHING – was how Felix fucking Catton was incapable of just leaving you the hell alone. It was like he had a little antenna sticking out of his head specifically for you whenever the two of you were within a ten-foot radius of him. Everywhere you went, it was as if you had a giant blinking arrow above you screaming, “Felix Catton’s New Toy”!

No, you were less than a toy – you were a joke, a gimmick.

God, you should have just stuck to your original plan and applied to any SUNY school that would have accepted you without even looking at your application.

But no, your good-Samaritan-obsessed college counselor called your parents and complained that you weren’t “putting yourself out there” enough. And now you were over thirty-four hundred miles away from home, stuck with the worst people ever. It was like a thousand tiny prickles were running on your skin as your mind filled with static.

Whenever Felix called out to you, it was to invite you to a party or get wasted. One time, he walked up to you insanely plastered and invited you for a quickie in the men’s bathroom. You were in an empty lecture hall since your usual spot in the library was taken, and Michael was still in class, so you didn’t see the point in trying to find an open spot.

Somehow – without you noticing – the guy plopped himself next to you and asked if there were any rooms in the building where he could smoke a joint in.

“Pretty sure you could open the window in the bathroom to smoke in there,” you replied absentmindedly.

And then he put his hand ON YOUR THIGH, leaned to your ear to whisper, “Wanna get out of here to join me? We don’t have only to get high.”

You grabbed all your shit and booked it – out of the building and all the way to your dorm to take a shower that lasted for around twenty minutes. You wanted to get rid of the smell of nicotine and overpriced aftershave. The scent of him on your skin made you wish you could tear it off.

And in your panic, you left your bike at the building’s entrance.

When you returned to retrieve it, it was after dark, and you recruited Michael as your tall and bony human shield.

“Do not ever walk home alone at night,” your mom told you every morning you left for school.

You tried not to think about the haunted look in her eyes each time she told you.

“Wanna skip the dining hall tonight? We can walk to Crowley Street and order take-out at that Pakistani place you like so much.”

Oh, that perked you right up. Jannahs Express was a broke college student’s paradise. The food was cheap, and the owners took pity on the international students. It was slightly more expensive in the UK, but it was the closest you could find with food on par to Kababish on Broadway in Queens. You stifled a laugh remembering the sight of Michael drinking the entire pitcher of water after you dared him to try a dish at ‘regular.’

“Seriously? Do you think you could take more than ‘English-mild’?” you asked as you stood up. “How did you survive your mom’s cooking for so long? She made us Indian food on our last night.”

“Mum grew up in London, and she had neighbors teach her how to make it the traditional way. You’re the only person who could take that level. Lilypad and I got Dad’s taste buds.”

Choking on your spit from laughing at the image of Gregory Gavey’s face turning firetruck red, you felt the migraine slowly disappear.

“Yeah, I’ll bet. God, I can’t imagine the look on his face when –”

A familiar voice that left a bitter taste in your mouth after hearing interrupted your conversation.

“Hey, (Y/N). Can we talk?”

You and Michael turned your heads to find Oliver Quick – Michael’s former friend, your former acquaintance – and the sight of him soured the mood instantaneously. You narrowed your eyes to dangerous slits to show your displeasure seeing him as one corner of your lip curled to show a sneer. You never liked the guy. There was just something about how he acted and presented himself. He had a profound desperation to impress everyone around him.

So much so that he immediately dropped Michael after becoming Felix Catton’s new pet. As evidenced by the oversized gray zip-up hoodie blanketing him. Felix’s, no doubt.

Fuck, you hated him.

“Ugh, what do you want?” you snapped, taking a bit of pleasure in seeing how your voice made him flinch.

“Look, can we –” his eyes hastily darted to Michael, then you, then behind him to make sure no one was watching him “– can we talk in private?”

Seriously? That’s how he wants to play this?

In the corner of your eye, you saw how tightly Michael clenched his fists. He was obviously still hurt from the time his ex-friend treated him like shit.

Oh, this will not do.

“Oliver,” you snarled as you crossed your arms over your chest, “whatever the hell you have to say to me, you can say in front of Michael.”

“Can you please not do this now?” he begged with pathetic eyes. How very in-character of him.

“Tick tock, Quick. Are you going to talk, or do I have to throw a drink in your face again? But this time, I’ll smash the glass on your face, too.”

Seeing the look on his face gave you almost a perverse sense of joy. Maybe this is why bullies exist.

“Do you think you’ll be at the pub sometime this week?”

What the fuck? Was he serious? His question caught you completely off-guard. You expected him to ask for notes or even help with homework, as his grades have slipped since becoming an official Felix Catton fanboy.

“At the pub – Oliver, when have I drunk alcohol in the entire time we’ve known each other?”

“You’ll turn nineteen this year, right? It’s only illegal if you’re under 18,” he tried to put out convincingly.

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. But you’re forgetting the part where I’m still an American citizen. Just because it’s legal for me to vote doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to drink yet.”

“No one cares about that here!” he almost shouted. “Just come with me to the pub at King’s Arms for the next few nights.”

“No fucking way,” you scoffed. “My parents would kill me if they found out I drank on a school night. Also, in case you forgot, we still have our test tomorrow in History. And I, for one, don’t need to get sloshed every night to feel important.”

Michael tugged on your sleeve and nodded at the small crowd forming around you three. You sighed in silence, agreeing that it wasn’t worth it. You both tried to walk away, but you were grabbed and stumbled back, which caused you to drop your books.

“Ow! Are you kidding–” but a wince broke your complaint as Oliver’s hold on your arm tightened to a painful grip. Your eyes traveled to his face, and you were shocked to see the anger shining in his eyes.

“Why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult?” he grit out. “Are you trying to ruin my life?”

The way his nails dug into your skin made you curse under your breath. Seeing you in pain broke Michael out of his shock at how someone as meek as Oliver Quick could show so much aggression. He rushed to get him off you.

“Are you fucking mental?” he hissed at Oliver once he managed to separate to two of you.

But Oliver’s nail left red scratch marks down to your wrist, even breaking the skin enough to cause little beads of blood to escape. This enraged Michael like you have never seen. Staring at the evidence of his former friend’s clawing, he walked forward and pushed him to the bookshelf before grabbing his shirt with both hands.

“What’s wrong with you?” Michael yelled. “She already said no!”

You wiped the blood off your arm with an old travel tissue pack you stole from the plane you took from JFK to London last summer. God, everyone was staring at you guys now. You needed to find a way to contain the situation. If any staff catches you, all three of you may risk trouble. Trouble that would jeopardize your scholarships. You grabbed Michael’s hands to get him to loosen his grip.

“Look, I’ll hear you out–” you looked around and cringed at everyone’s stares, “–just not here.”

This calmed Oliver’s rage enough to get Michael to let go.

“Okay,” he whispered, “okay – yeah. Let’s go outside.”

The three of you grabbed your shit and quickly exited the library. You went to the same area behind the building with no windows – ergo, no bystanders to gawk at you.

“Okay, we’re outside. Look, I’m sorry about your arm. But can you please just –”

You lifted your hand to stop him.

“Okay, look. I only said I would hear you out to make you and Michael stop fighting,” you stated matter-of-factly. “None of us could afford to get in trouble with the faculty and staff, and it was getting too out-of-hand. Oliver, I am not going to King Arm’s tonight or any night you ask me. I have my own life, so don’t drag me into yours.”

Oliver gaped like a fish for a few seconds before speaking.

“But you have to! Please! If you do, then maybe he’ll –”

“WHO?” you interrupted, shouting. “Who will be there? Who is so important that you act so fucking psycho for five minutes ago?”

This was too much for you to deal with everything on your plate already.

“Cut the vague bullshit already! Why are you desperate for me to be there? It’s so –” You froze as an epiphany struck down you.

Oh, hell fucking no…

“Are you hoping that Felix will be there?” you asked through clenched teeth.

You felt like a volcano ready to blow with his slight nod. And like a volcano – you blew.

“You mean to tell me that you risked all our asses, attacked, and humiliated me for fucking FELIX CATTON?!”

You couldn’t believe it – you couldn’t fucking believe it. Felix Catton took up so much of your life already; once again, he felt it necessary to take more of it for himself.

How much more could one man take? How much more did he want until it was enough?

He had taken so much – more than any person other than yourself had any right to own. Your education, your peace, and what was next? Your body? Your life? Did he intend to bleed you dry of everything like a parasitic vampire he and his kind pretended not to be?

You were going crazy, insane, and running yourself tired all at once. The absurdity of it all made you laugh. You laughed and laughed and laughed until you were gasping for air. You laughed so hard that tears spilled from your eyes as you doubled over.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “oh my god! That’s it. Of course, it is. What else could it be?”

Standing straight, you kept laughing, but you were staring at Oliver with an answer clear in your eyes.

“He got bored of you,” you accused him, “didn’t he? So quickly?”

God, how you relished how red his face turned. If you were smart, you would have stopped taunting there – but you were too tired of everything to care.

“It’s been what? A month? Maybe two?” you further pressed. “He really just loves to go through all his toys, huh?”

“(Y/N),” Michael whispered in your ear, “let’s just go.”

He looked at Oliver with disdainful eyes before softening them to look back at you.

“He isn’t worth it. Come on, let’s get your cut cleaned up before we leave.”

You let Michael gently drag you away from the hurricane mess that was Oliver Quick, leaving him to stew in anger and wallow in self-pity on the chilly spring night.

A few days later, you and Michael were walking back to his dorm after watching one of the most notable movie franchises starring one of Hollywood’s best actors.

“How could you not love Pirates of the Caribbean?” you cried. “Johnny Depp is beyond brilliant!”

“Oh, so acting drunk in front of an expensive camera is now considered brilliant?” he quipped back. “Shit, I should have just gone into acting instead.”

“I’m sorry, do you not remember his jar of dirt? That scene was completely improvised, by the way – including his fall.”

“Oh – not the stupid jar of dirt! Lil’ kept buggering me all summer doing that scene after I took her to see it!”

“Oh, I meant to ask. What did Lily think of the books I got for her birthday? Were they weird?”

“Are you kidding? She loved them. She keeps going on about how she wants to be Annabeth for Halloween. Oh, by the way, she’s making me dress up as Luke and wants you to go as Thalia.”

Your jaw dropped in shock. “Seriously?! Yes, let’s do it. I am so in.”

“She is aware that Luke’s the villain, right?”

“Don’t worry about it so much. She wants to share these memories with you. And you are such a good brother, Mikey.”

“I am never going to escape that name with you,” he groaned, “am I?”

“Nope!” you happily confirmed. “Never! When I write my speech at your wedding, I will mention it at least fifteen times.”

“I’ll allow six.”

“Twelve.”

“Ten, take it or leave it.”

“Ten it is. Pinky-swear.”

You held out your pinky to show sincerity. And like someone raised correctly, Michael respected the sanctity of the swear by reciprocating.

“Perfect! Now that that’s settled, is it okay if I crash at your place for the night? It’s so late, and we don’t have classes tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, sure,” he replied. “Just make sure you – Annabel.”

Wait, what? You stopped walking and turned to look at your friend in confusion.

“Annabel?”

He pointed it out in front of him with a slight nod.

“Annabel,” he confirmed.

Indeed, it was Annabel. But she was sitting slumped against the hallway’s walls with vomit all over her blue dress.

Felix had been going mad for the past few months since his and Farleigh’s return to Oxford. It was already almost May, and he hadn’t come any closer to getting (Y/N)’s attention.

What could he possibly be doing that was so wrong?

He invites you to parties or a drink with you every time he sees you. He had hoped that being friends with Ollie would have given him an “in” with you, but there was no such luck. Did you really have no idea how he felt about you? How much more obvious could he be?

He remembered how happy he was when he realized that Oliver knew you. It was that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms. He recalled it so vividly.

Felix was silent throughout the entire transaction. The sight of you coming over entirely transfixed him. Your hair had two small braids on the side that were attached with small yellow butterfly clips. You were wearing black denim overalls with vintage-looking patches sewn onto the fabric. Your shirt was a light blue-dyed shirt-sleeved t-shirt with splotches of navy blue. It must have been something you made when you were little. The fabric looked soft and worn down. But the size was small enough to hug the curves of your upper torso perfectly. The way the fabric stretched across your tits made him salivate.

After he introduced himself to you, you only responded with a grimace and a slight nod of acknowledgment. He invited you to join him and his friends for a drink, but you only ignored him. His words were meaningless breezes to you – white noise in the background that added to the clang and chatter in the room. He wasn’t even paying attention to Oliver until you threw that drink at him.

“Fucking cunt-rag!” you called Ollie after throwing Farleigh’s drink in his face. You shoved a middle finger for added effect. “Don’t ever show your face in front of me again.”

Grabbing your coat, you stomped away from the table.

Absentmindedly handing his friend some tissues, Felix had to know what your deal was with Oliver. Were you two dating or just friends? He didn’t know how he felt about his new friend being romantically involved with his angel.

“Wait, do you two know each other?” he asked.

“What?” asked Oliver – not understanding his idol’s question before his mind finally registered it. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, she’s a friend of a friend.”

“Were you two ever, like ‘together’?” Felix had to know.

Oliver’s eyes widened a bit before shaking his head and panickedly answering.

“No, no, no. We have a few classes together – that’s it.”

Felix couldn’t believe his luck. Ollie must really be his hero.

“Do you think you could introduce us?” he asked excitedly – his molten chocolate eyes were shining ablaze with hope.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Oliver quickly agreed – anything to keep his attention on him.

Felix felt like leaping to the sky. He could run a marathon with how much energy was flooding throughout him. He clapped his hands before grabbing Ollie’s face with both hands and smacking a wet kiss on both cheeks.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you!” Felix went up to get him another pint. “You’re my hero, Ollie. You really are.”

As he lay on his bed, he tried to remember every interaction with you. His last one with you was something he could admit went horribly wrong.

He wandered on the grounds when he stumbled on a building with your bike on the rack. Figuring that you were just in a lecture, Felix figured he could try to catch up with you when it was done. It wasn’t like he had anything important later. He would stay near the entrance and try to catch your attention when you walked out.

Simple.

And because he was God’s favorite, he found you sitting in the middle of an empty classroom. You were taking notes while reading a massive textbook while lightly bobbing your head to whatever was blasting through your earbuds.

Sliding to the seat next to you, he smoothly asked you if there was any room where he could smoke. You didn’t even bother to look at him while answering him – too fixated with your studies to pay attention to him.

Knowing that he had to get you to look at him through more direct actions, Felix impulsively put his hand on your thigh before asking you if you wanted to join him. He even joked, saying that you didn’t only have to get high.

But seeing the terror in your eyes threw him off. He quickly wanted to tell you that he was only joking. If you knew that he wasn’t being serious, maybe you would ease up around him. But before he could apologize, you frantically stood from your seat to gather your books in your bag before running out of the room.

Felix groaned into his hands as he recalled how fast you ran out of the room and away from him.

“Felix, you’re a fucking idiot,” he softly insulted himself.

God, what the hell was wrong with him? Why did he think that someone as studious as you would ever consider getting high with some bloke in the bathroom of an academic building?

Every step he tried to take forward with you felt like he was going ten steps back. He needed to find a way to get on your good side.

Maybe Ollie could – no, that was a dead end. Fuck, he needed a drink.

Lying on his bed, Oliver stared at the ceiling of his room. Annabel had just left with the bottle of vodka they had been drinking out of for the past half hour. He wanted to cry.

Why was everything going wrong?

But he knew the reason. It was you.

He was so naïve to think you wouldn’t be an obstacle. You had practically ruined everything from the beginning. It wasn’t just when you refused to help him the other day but also that night at the pub at Kings’ Arms.

While Felix was ordering him a drink, Oliver sat bewildered at the sequence of events that had transpired in the past five minutes. First, Felix invited him over to sit with him and his friends. And when things had been so well, you interrupted his excellent time by asking where Michael was. When you realize he has left your friend alone, you ask for Farleigh Start’s drink before throwing it in his face. You then called him a “cunt-rag” before storming off like a goddamn child.

Luckily, Felix hadn’t listened to you speak. But that was only because he stared at you – stared at you like he was born to worship you. Even worse, Felix asked him if he could introduce the two of you at some point. The way Felix’s eyes widened in glee when Oliver agreed enraged him – even more than when you insulted and almost humiliated him in front of Felix.

Staring at his back, Oliver figured Felix’s attention on you wasn’t something to worry about. He was only interested in you because you were pretty. As much as you infuriated him, Oliver admitted that you had a rare and genuine beauty to you. He didn’t know whether it was your indifference for Oxford’s gods and kings or your dedication to keeping in touch with your American roots – but it was enough to enrapture Felix Catton temporarily.

No, Oliver Quick had no reason to worry. He would be enough for Felix. And then you would be an afterthought, and he’d be Felix Catton’s everything.

Oliver had to find a way to ensure you wouldn't be a problem anymore. You'd comply - there would come a time when you won't have a choice.

Let me know if you want me to write the full scene of Reader throwing the drink at Oliver!

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindnow, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes

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#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #michael gavey x reader #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie

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gffa · 7 months

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All right, so maybe I went haring off to another fandom for awhile, but I will never fully let go of my STAR WARS fic reading roots because there's just so much incredible fic here and I have such intense feelings about these characters, like how can I possibly truly leave when this fandom knows how to scratch my id just right or make me cry over fictional characters or hyena laugh because you people are very funny? There's just so much fic that is so good that of course I keep coming back! Especially when it comes to Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker, there are just so many incredible people making incredible fics for them that feed right back into my love for their twisty, turny, complicated, beautiful, awful relationship. So here's a bunch of Obikin fic because the fandom is amazing and you should go love them as much as I love them, since you can hopefully completely sate yourself on a bunch of fantastic fic to read! Or idk send yourself into a grief coma because sometimes fic writers are almost as mean as canon was, but in the best way, the way that really hits you in the feelings place. Or idk idk just gorge on all the porn because DANG Obikin fandom brings the porn! WHAT KIND OF FIC YOU’LL FIND HERE:

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

FICS THAT PUNCHED ME IN THE FACE WITH HOW GOOD THEY WERE: ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121k wip In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Together in Slumber by ibex_ascendant, obi-wan/anakin, 2.4k wip Several months after his last confrontation with Darth Vader, Obi-Wan finds himself trapped in a vivid and mysterious mindscape. And he isn't there alone. ✦ Satellite Mind by intermundia, septemberist, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 19.3k Some doors, once opened, can never be closed, and some secrets, once learned, can never be forgotten. or, Five times Obi-Wan heard Anakin’s thoughts, and one time Anakin heard Obi-Wan’s. ✦ Slow Learner by Is0lde, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 12.6k Four times Anakin tried to fit Obi-Wan's big dick inside him and one time he managed it. or; the evolution of their sexual relationship. ✦ Redolent of you by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dom/sub, 31.3k wip This act of espionage is going to require some class A play at antiquated alpha and omega dynamics, only problem is Anakin has never submitted in his life and it's certainly not within his nature,or so Obi-Wan thinks. ✦ Heal Me, My Darling by wasureneba, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 12.4k Anakin gets sick. Obi-Wan takes care of him. For two weeks. Alone. This would be easier if Anakin wasn't quite so gone for Obi-Wan. Or if this didn't involve a daily stab in the shebs. ✦ For He, too, is King by MayMeows, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, historical au, 7.7k “I am here to present myself to the man who now calls himself King of my people.” Obi-Wan would be impressed as Anakin’s title as God-King, born from the divine himself, often struck people with awe, terrifying or glorifying, but Queen Amidala’s voice is as strong as her shoulders are squared. ✦ How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by Sharp_Tongue, obi-wan/anakin & mace & yoda & quinlan & palpatine, nsfw, time travel, 23.9k After defeating Vader on a barren, nameless moon, Obi-Wan had let go of the past. But the past hadn’t let go of him. ✦ (feel like i die) ‘til i feel your touch by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & yoda & mace & ahsoka, 15.5k OR; Obi-Wan gets himself cursed and makes it everyone’s, but mainly Anakin’s, problem.

CANON-COMPLIANT (-ISH, WHATEVER) AT LEAST UP UNTIL THE GALAXY GOES PEAR-SHAPED AND/OR DIVERGES: ✦ Yellow Surprise by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.1k When Anakin is distant with him during a simple negotiation mission Obi-Wan jumps to the wrong conclusion, luckily for him Anakin isn't willing to let him go so easily. ✦ A Good Epithet by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 8.2k Obi-Wan should have been happy. He had fulfilled Qui-Gon’s final wish. He had trained Anakin, he had spent ten years teaching the boy and watching him grow, he had cared for him and scolded him and coddled him by turns. He had, for better or worse, been Anakin Skywalker’s Master. ✦ hold on to this lullaby by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin & rex, 1k “Anakin,” Kenobi says with a hint of a reprimand in his voice. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” Skywalker staggers further into the room, and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks. He rolls his eyes but it doesn’t do anything to mitigate the color high on his face and the effect it has on his features: a pleased expression flashing clear as ion fire. Having made his way to one of the chairs, he drops down onto it with the elegance of a Hutt. ✦ Any Other World by mysticmjolnir, obi-wan/anakin & vader & leia & reva, NSFW, dimension hopping, 24.2k wip Anakin has been looking for his Master for a very long time. Finally, on Mapuzo, he finds him. ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving. ✦ spirit meets the bone by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, time travel, dom/sub, 2k Or, the Force keeps sending Anakin forward in time from the Clone Wars. ✦ Azúcar, Sudor by Delzi, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, spanking/discipline, 18.6k wip Anakin can't stand Obi-Wan's new disciplinary tactic, but he absolutely loves it. ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.3k Anakin’s eyes snapped open. Oh no. Oh no. Anakin slumped back into the bed, staring down at himself in horror. Anakin Skywalker had just had a wet dream about Obi-Wan Kenobi. [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ sea to a desert by maragny, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, 3.1k An interlude and an aftermath; or: how to love someone you seem to have spent half your life loving.

FUCK THE NOISE OUT OF ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S HEAD: ✦ Strings Pulled Taut by preromantics, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k (AKA Anakin gets a bunch of gunk in his hair, Obi-Wan has been hyper-fixated, and it all bursts like a bubble.) ✦ dark red by wesnenski, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k He feels Obi-Wan before he sees him: a ripple in the Force, a glow of warmth in the darkness. When he appears from the shadows like a bleary-eyed spectre, Anakin can only look up at him, nostrils flared, lip quivering. Here is his Master, tired and gaunt but solid and present and real. ✦ Take Care of Yourself, I Wish I Could by Kefalion, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 7k While Obi-Wan and Anakin are alone on a planet during a mission, Anakin goes into a presentation heat. One Obi-Wan will not help him through no matter how much they'd both want it. Not that they know that want is mutual. ✦ Fever by dirkygoodness, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, cat boy!anakin, 3.5k Obi-Wan wakes up to a cuddly (Ny)Anakin and is met with something he isn't expecting. He's going to have to deal with it though. And enjoy himself as he does. ✦ sink into the dunes by stardies, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 9k [A collection of small Obikin drabbles. Each chapter will have its own one shot.] 01. sfw, anakin’s separation anxiety. 02. first time nsfw. 03. obikin zine piece, sith!obi-wan, jedi!anakin, handjobs. ✦ a necessary respite by Anonymous, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.6k to be fair, all of this is obiwan’s fault. even though his master is calmly sorting through reports the faint buzz of arousal in the back of both of their heads is majorly coming from him, anakin just can’t help but react to it. ✦ the lean and hungry type by tideswept, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 4.5k And so is Anakin, really, for being excited about this rather than angry. He wets his lower lip, striving to cohere his thoughts into something that isn’t appallingly horny, when Master speaks. “I’m not in rut,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t spring that on you.” “I mean,” Anakin pauses. “You could.” ✦ when people show you who they are, believe them by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, spanking, dom/sub, 3k Anakin has a meeting with the Chancellor. Obi-Wan convinces him to take a slow morning instead. ✦ needs must by silianrail, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, dual sex!anakin, 1.7k Anakin must be the neediest omega in the entire temple, if not on the entire planet. But if Anakin is needy, what does that make Obi-Wan, who, after all, bends to so many of his padawan’s desires? ✦ Use Me by kittimau, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.5k Anakin knows what Obi-Wan needs, even if he won't say it.

✦ Insatiable by TheSopherfly, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.8k Obi-Wan meets Anakin’s eyes with a rueful smile. “You wanted it fast, yes?” “Yes.” Even without their responsibilities looming, Anakin would’ve wanted it like this; quick and dirty, like they just can’t help themselves. “Yeah. Fast is perfect.” “Good,” Obi-Wan says, punctuating the word with a single thrust. “Because I don’t think I’ll last long.” Or; With the twins still asleep, Anakin and Obi-Wan steal some time for themselves. ✦ Hazy Shade of Winter by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.7k Obi-Wan runs hot; Anakin most definitely does not. Thankfully Obi-Wan is there to warm Anakin up when things get unusually cold in the Jedi Temple. ✦ The Love You Want by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, potential dub con-esque (read the tags), 6.8k They've returned to their rooms after sparring, flushed and laughing and close enough that the very air feels heated between them. Once the door has closed, Obi-Wan turns to Anakin, smiling, takes Anakin's jaw in the cup of his hand and kisses him like the first blush of spring. "You'll be good for me, won't you?" he murmurs, and Anakin does nothing more than dreamily nod because he knows just what to do when he's slipped under like this. Knows his job is to be obedient and pliant and good. ✦ Handle Me With Care by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k Obi Wan wants Anakin but he knows he shouldn't. He also knows that there is no way he could ever act on it - or so he thought. ✦ tear me apart by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, 2.4k Obi-Wan uses Anakin in the Council Chamber ✦ A Lesson in Listening by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, dom/sub, toys, 4.4k “Anakin,” Obi-Wan says simply. Anakin feels chills run down his spine. That tone means everything except simplicity. “Bedroom.” His husband commands. ✦ Keeping Company by Gwendolyn (storiesofchaos), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 11.1k "So, will you? Will you help me through my heat? Please, I want you to fuck me, Master, I need it." Anakin doesn't care that he's begging already, but he's getting even wetter between his legs and he can't help it. Obi-Wan doesn't seem to mind anyway, because he groans and drags his fingers up into Anakin's hair and tugs slightly, making Anakin gasp. "Force, yes, I'll give you what you need, Anakin." ✦ king unmaker by unbitten, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, transmasc!anakin, royalty au, 4.4k How to get your King to stop playing hooky from his appointments to make trips to the brothel? Scold him. Stare disapprovingly. Fuck him yourself.

DARTH ASSHOLE CAT SHOULD BE GRABBED BY THE SCRUFF OF THE NECK AND SCOLDED BACK TO THE LIGHT: ✦ Reunion by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/darth vader, ~1k Some sweetness to help with the absolute agony of Obi-Wan lol ✦ The Jedi Child by RowenaNie, obi-wan/darth vader & luke & leia & cast, NSFW, pregnant!anakin, 48.1k “The emperor has put my replacement inside of me,” Vader said. ✦ Hand in Unlovable Hand by Rachello344, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.8k Post Kenobi Part VI: Instead of leaving Vader for dead, Obi-Wan finds himself unable to abandon his dear friend again and so takes him with him. How can Obi-Wan Kenobi live without the other half of himself? Whatever it takes, he will drag Anakin back to himself, kicking and screaming. ✦ dreamscape melodies by egeria, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, 2.9k "The layers you Jedi wear are ridiculous," Vader grumbled. Obi-Wan let out a huff. "We're in a dream, are we not? Can we not just will our clothes off?" -- or: Vader is in heat and Obi-Wan is in his dream. It's still complicated. ✦ to restrain the darkness by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, NSFW, some dom/sub, 2k Or, Vader wants Obi-Wan to tie him up. ✦ dreams of old by treescape, obi-wan/darth vader, nsfw, 4.1k wip Obi-Wan surrenders to Vader on Jabiim in exchange for everyone else's freedom.

FUCK YOU, CANON, THINGS GO A LITTLE NICER IN THIS UNIVERSE: ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ Sticky by Delziae, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & rex & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 25.9k [Or: In which Anakin is too horny to handle and Obi-wan has a bit less control than he originally thought.] ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, omegaverse, 5.3k After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying. ✦ dream a little dream of me by answersinahauntedclub, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & padme, 10.3k [or—you think you have problems? try having wet dreams of your friend-slash-former-master and then trying to figure out what that’s supposed to mean.] ✦ Stargazing by thegingerwrites, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 21k Anakin and Obi-Wan have become too well-known on the Holonet to take on undercover assignments anymore. But desperate times call for desperate measures and the Council asks them to make contact with a Separatist defector at a gala hosted on Mandalore. At least the event is a masquerade. ✦ praise you by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 17.9k An act of insubordination, a crash landing and a trek through the forests of an uncharted planet bring Anakin and Obi-Wan to a very hospitable village. Sure they think Anakin is a god, but really, what's wrong with wanting to be appreciated? ✦ terribly inconvenient and incredibly terrific by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, omegaverse, 24.8k Obi-Wan has the sheer nerve to imply that Anakin is ill-suited for a mission he himself is going on, which means that Anakin will stop at nothing to prove his old master wrong. After all, Anakin can do anything Obi-Wan can do, thank you very much. Even if maybe, just this one time, Obi-Wan is right. This mission relies on the one area of Anakin's life he's never spent much time or effort thinking about: his omega designation and Obi-Wan's alpha one. But there's no way that Anakin is going to back down now. What will Obi-Wan do? Go to the planet with another, non-Anakin omega? Don't make him laugh. He's Obi-Wan's partner. And Obi-Wan is his alpha. Alpha master. Same thing. ✦ and when you look at me, the weight of how i feel is heavy on me by brahe, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & depa & qui-gon & rex & cast, 37.9k “Jus’ like a sun,” Anakin murmurs, and Obi-Wan has to strain to hear it, almost misses it. He stills. “Beautiful shining sun,” Anakin continues, and presses his face further into the pool of robes. His voice is slow and sleepy, and Obi-Wan realizes he can tell Anakin is about to drop off into sleep. He blinks, lifting his head to stare down at him in something between awe and shock. That seems to be the standard operating procedure when it comes to Anakin, he thinks, a little wry, a little wondrous.

WORLD IS HARD AND COLD, OBIKIN FLUFF IS SOFT AND WARM: ✦ a vacationer's guide to being unexpectedly married by treescape, obi-wan/anakin & cast, 7.8k “A vacation, you need,” Master Yoda had insisted firmly beneath their incredulous stares when they’d first received their instructions. “On a beach, perhaps, hmmm?” ✦ The Lonely Mollusk by temple_mistress, obi-wan/anakin & luke & leia, nsfw, 2k Obi-Wan was incredibly horny, Anakin was, Force-bless him, more than ready to oblige, and the children were miraculously still sleeping. ✦ looking for trouble by orphan_account, obi-wan/anakin (mentioned obi-wan/anakin/padme), spanking, 1.7k Anakin gets in a fight. Obi-Wan cleans him up and spanks him.

MODERN AUS CAN BE FUN AND CHARMING AS HELL AND A GREAT CHANCE TO MAP CANON DYNAMICS ONTO A WORLD WHERE THEY CAN HAVE A HAPPIER LIFE, IT’S A WIN ALL THE WAY AROUND: ✦ (I just) died in your arms tonight by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & cast, modern au, 2.5k wip Where Obi-Wan is still a master of politics and Anakin still fixes spaceships and they’re still irrevocably obsessed with one another. ✦ Win Condition by passeridae, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, F1 au, 4.3k Anakin has just won his first race of his F1 career and Obi-Wan, his longtime trainer and partner, knows just what his boy should get as a reward. (His dick. The reward is his dick.) ✦ Hooked on You by whohatessand, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, 5.2k With his wife's approaching senatorial election, Anakin Skywalker tries desperately to be the perfect husband she needs. Little does Padmé know, her husband has been sleeping with her campaign manager, Obi-Wan Kenobi, for quite a while now. ✦ we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by decideophobia, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, fake married, 5.8k wip He looks up and meets Anakin’s eyes. A thoughtful expression passes over his face. “Married people are paid significantly more,” he says then, slowly, looking at Anakin like he’s trying to solve a riddle. Anakin stares, dumbstruck. “Huh.” ✦ Would You Like Cream With That? by ranianke, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, professor obi-wan, 2.1k Obi-Wan was a good teacher. His students learned the content, he got flattering reviews (even when you ignored the chili pepper Rate My Professors reviews that he could not seem to get taken down), and he generally liked teaching. Good professors did not sleep with their students. ✦ Pride & Preparation by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, school au, 5.6k “You’re beautiful,” Anakin praised, making Obi-Wan blush. “And nervous.” Obi-Wan scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Of course I’m nervous.” “You shouldn’t be,” Anakin said easily, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips. “I love you, and this is going to be really fun.” ✦ swear each night to let him go by vorpalstars, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka, NSFW, modern au, professor!obi-wan, 10.3k wip Anakin develops an unfortunate amount of lust for his literature teacher ✦ Seven Minutes in Anakin by Saratutti, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, dom/sub, 1.9k Fully enamored doesn't even begin to describe Anakin’s captivation with the gorgeous professor he has stumbled into dating this Christmas season. ✦ The Melody Wakes the Heart by edgeofn1ght, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 3.5k However, it's practically love at first sight when Obi-Wan passes a new busker working the alley he passes through every day going to and from work. ✦ Pick-up Games by SingManyFaces, obi-wan/anakin, modern au, 1.1k Ben’s quiet afternoon is ruined by a basketball player who needs some medical attention. He doesn’t mind too much. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 22: Brakebills by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 10.2k Anakin Skywalker was not a typical student of Brakebills University for Magical Pedagogy.

WHAT DID CANON EVER DO BUT BREAK OUR HEARTS ANYWAY? TIME TO TELL CANON TO FUCK OFF AND WRITE AN AU: ✦ death by any other name by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, vampire au, 11.5k While on a mission during his years as a Padawan, Obi-Wan escapes the tight hold of death transformed into something not quite human. In the years following, he isn’t always so lucky. ✦ Till Human Voices Wake Us by RagnarLothcat, obi-wan/anakin, mer!anakin, 2.7k It’s late summer when Obi-Wan first notices a flash of gold between the waves. ✦ Goodbye by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & qui-gon, nsfw, 1.2k Anakin has no wish to leave Obi-Wan, not when they have just been reunited. Luckily for him, Obi-Wan is good at making their goodbye very memorable. ✦ tender like a bruise by stardies, obi-wan/anakin & cast, omegaverse, 6.8k wip In a stroke of desperation, Obi-wan mates Anakin Skywalker by force on the fiery planet of Mustafar to stop his Fall and save his life. Taken back to Coruscant and imprisoned, Anakin feels the senate's pressure for justice, and Obi-wan, his mate and former mentor is determined to give him another chance. ✦ canaries underground by TheGoodDoctor, obi-wan/padme & references to anakin/padme & obi-wan/anakin & obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, padme lives, 10k There are good days, and bad days. This is a good one. ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & ahsoka & mace & yoda & palpatine & cast, NSFW, Not a Jedi!Anakin, Sith!Obi-Wan, 63.5k Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can't refuse. These things are, actually, related.

TIME TO CRY ABOUT SOME FICTIONAL CHARACTERS: ✦ you can't just leave me by amadwinter, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, 1.6k Anakin swears he’s above his Omega instincts, but when he’s sparring with his Alpha master one day, some wires get crossed that leave him unable to distinguish friend from foe. A primal fear consumes him, and no amount of Jedi training will shake the feeling he needs to escape. He needs to protect himself from the dangerous Alpha circling around him, searching for any sign of weakness. When backed into a corner, an Omega’s last line of defense is their bite. After all, an Alpha would never hurt their mate… ✦ A Little Early, A Little Late by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 7.4k Anakin finds out he's pregnant. The problem is that his mating ceremony isn't for another four months. ✦ Sweet Surprise by greeneyes_blondequiffs, obi-wan/anakin, nsfw, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 12.3k Obi Wan and Anakin are forced to land on an unfamiliar planet. Anakin is perplexed by everyone's obvious interest in him, unsure what could be causing it. That is, until he receives some unexpected news. The problem is, Anakin's not quite sure he believes it. The other problem is what Obi Wan might think when he finds out. ✦ That Never Wrote To Me by Artemis_Unbound, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & vokara, NSFW, omegaverse, pregnant!anakin, 5.3k After the Rako Hardeen mission, everyone Obi-Wan loves has turned away from him. It’s been months since he’s even seen Anakin, but their bond had been closed off for years. Knowing that Anakin would never want him the way Obi-Wan wanted Anakin had been painful enough, but at least he still had their friendship. And now even that’s gone, and the cold has settled into his bones. Acute Isolation Syndrome is so rare that Obi-Wan doesn’t recognize the symptoms. Doesn’t even realize that he’s dying.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #obikin #obianidala #fic recs #star wars fic recs

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atlafan · 9 months

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This is the teacher that kids either love or hate, there’s no in between. Mr. Styles has his quirks, and according to your niece, you either get him or you don’t. The annoying thing is, Mr. Styles teaches all of the science electives like astronomy, astrophysics, forensic science, marine science, zoology, and meteorology. These aren’t required courses, but they’re only a semester long. After completing biology, students can either take a full year of chemistry and a full year of physics, or they can do a full year of chemistry or physics, and two science electives. Or they can do four science electives.

Mr. Styles also is the only AP Chemistry and AP Physics teacher. There’s really no avoiding him. Some students accept this, and others continue to live in denial.

Many students know their strengths and passions. They were made to be scientists. Your niece, who loves science, is taking as many courses as possible to help herself out for college later on. She’s in AP Chemistry with Mr. Styles, as well as forensic science. Your niece loved Mr. Styles until he gave her an F for missing an exam. She had been out sick. She had a note from her doctor and everything! Your niece blubbered to you about it.

You know Mr. Styles. You work at the same school as Mr. Styles. You’re the music teacher. You typically avoid Mr. Styles. You’re in a completely different area of the school. Many students complain about him, but just as many praise him. But this time it’s personal. He made your niece cry, at school! You told her she could stay in your office for a bit to calm down. You were marching your way to Mr. Styles’ classroom. You didn’t care if he was teaching. You were going to barge in.

When you get to his door, you see him sitting at his desk through the little window. It’s a prep period. When you giggle the handle of the door, it doesn’t turn. So, you pound on the door with your fist while Mr. Styles takes his sweet time coming to open it.

“Miss-“

“Don’t even address me right now, I’m too mad.”

“I don’t think I know you well enough for you to be venting to me about something.” He says as he closes the door. “But I guess I can listen since I have time.”

“I’m here because you’re being an asshole to my niece. She missed school because she was sick and you wouldn’t let her makeup a test. That’s against school policy.”

“Not with AP courses.” He crosses his arms over his chest. You can’t help but feel frazzled at his attire. The dichotomy of him wearing a Disney shirt about love while he’s scowling is is almost comical. “If a student is sick on the day of the exam, then that’s it. They fail. They don’t get to try again.”

“How is she going to get into a good school if she has an F on her transcript?!”

“She’s not going to fail the class. She knew I had a strict policy. Also, I put out exam dates well in advance. She knew what day it was going to be.”

“She was sick!”

“Was she vomiting uncontrollably? Was she coughing up blood? Was she bed ridden? If the answer is no to any of those, then she could have come in to take the exam.”

“Right, so then she could get all of the other kids sick?”

“Masks are a thing. Plenty of students still wear them in the classroom. She could have come in for the exam and then left afterwards. Why do you care so much? You’re not her legal guardian. Her parents haven’t emailed or called to complain. At the mandatory parents meeting I run at the beginning of the school, I make it clear to the parents that I am strict for a reason.”

“My sister and brother-in-law haven’t called to complain because they don’t know about any of this. She came crying to me because she has no idea how to tell them because she knows she’s going to be asked if she knew it was an exam day. Which she completely forgot because she was sick and her brain was foggy.”

“She’ll have opportunities to make up her grade. Her participation counts for a lot and she’s always participating.”

“You don’t understand mental instability these overachievers have. I’ve seen that girl cry over an A-. Shooting her in the stomach would hurt less than getting a bad grade. Do you get off on being a dick?”

“You know what? This is my prep period, and I was busy.”

“Yeah, your door was locked.” You scoff.

“I always lock it. I don’t like when people filter in and out during my prep.”

“What if a student had an emergency and needed you?! Why are you even a teacher if you don’t care about students?! Do you have any idea how hard these kids have it? They don’t even teach them how to use computers anymore! No one knows how to touch type! Everyone assumes they have it easy, but they don’t. A lot of kids come to school because it’s better than being at home. You making it worse for them is a real turn off. I know you have students that adore you, but you also have students that would love the opportunity to spit in your food.”

“Are you done?”

“That depends, do you understand the points I’ve made?”

“Yes. You were very clear.”

“Are you going to take what I said into consideration as you’re teaching?”

“No.”

“You’re a fucking prick.”

“And you’re…” His eyes go up and down, checking her out. “It’s a good thing your room is on the other side of the school.” He shakes his head.

“Why? Afraid I’ll spit in your food?”

“No, in fact, I’d welcome your spit. I’d like it preferably in my mouth, but beggars can’t be choosers.” He shrugs and sits down at his desk.

Your mouth is agape. Did he really just say that to you?

“Are you serious?”

“Very.” He stands back up and saunters over to her. “If you’d like to cuss me out some more, could we do it over dinner?”

“I…”

“You never gave me a chance to take you out a few years ago. Remember that night we were both at that bar?”

“I do.” You nod as you blush. “But that was a mistake. I had a boyfriend…”

“Do you still?”

“No.”

“Alright, well, I would love to be in your presence again while you’re all fired up. Are you free Saturday night?”

“Pick me up at seven.”

“I’ll make a reservation somewhere I know we’ll be secluded so you can yell at me some more.”

“Stop talking before I change my mind.” You say and storm out of his classroom.

While you were teaching your sixth period choral class, Harry was teaching his forensic science class. Your niece got there a few minutes early to talk to Mr. Styles as he stood outside the class to greet the other students coming in.

“So…did it work?” She asked quietly.

“Like a charm.”

“She said yes?!”

“Mhm.” He grinned. “You must have put on quite the performance. She was really angry.”

“If you thought that made her angry, wait until she inevitably finds out that we worked together to trick her.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #teacher!harry #blurb #drabble #harry blurb #harry drabble

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skamenglishsubs · 2 months

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Subtext and Culture, Young Royals, Season 3, Episode 5

Episode 5 starts sometime after August dropped the bombshell about Erik at the end of last episode, and Wilhelm decides for some reason to visit the party palace, in order to make himself feel extra shit? I don't know what's going on here.

Blink and you miss it: Hey, that's one of the clown masks they used for Wilhelm's initiation back in season 1.

Blink and you miss it: Henry and Valter are doing a class presentation on rhetorical analysis, and for some reason they chose former US president George W. Bush as their subject, which is pretty hilarious given that he was a notoriously bad public speaker.

Blink and you miss it: Instead of asking Wilhelm, who is sitting right next to Simon, how he's feeling, he writes the question in his notebook and slides it over.

Subtext: Gotta keep up that facade and bottle all the negative feelings inside!

Lost in translation: Vincent uses the word "nyanländ", "newly arrived", which is the current politically correct way of saying immigrant.

Subtext: ...but in typical bully fashion he asks the target of the racist "joke" if it was funny, and Marwan obviously lies about it as to not upset Vincent.

Subtext: Felice tries to play it off as no big deal, but she actually wants this opportunity to spend time with Sara without her other friends, in order to rebuild the friendship.

Subtext: Sara is right to be suspicious of her dad, because he is a lot more energetic than usual, and excuses his behaviour by him simply being in a good mood. It's probably his new medication that kicked in, though.

Subtext: Speaking of having a hard time showing weakness, that's exactly what Wilhelm's been struggling with by not telling Simon how upset he is about having learned that Erik took part in the gay porn initiation.

Subtext: So the whole subplot of the past four episodes was that the school locked up all the phones, and Wilhelm joined the little strike to get them back, pissing Simon off in the meantime, and now that they have their phones back he's not picking up when Simon is calling him? Not cool.

Culture: The choir is practising "En vänlig grönskas rika dräkt", a Swedish hymnal with text from 1889, but this version of the melody is from the 1930's and composed by Waldemar Åhlén. It's a very well-known summer song that pretty much every Swedish schoolkid has sung at some end-of-schoolyear summer assembly.

Cinematography: We're in the cursed music room, and this time the lighting is harsh and sharp, Wilhelm is in stark contrast to the rest of the room, there's no soft golden light smoothing things out, so we're gonna have an argument!

Subtext: Yeah, no, Wilhelm, sweetie, that's projection, that's what you are thinking about your brother. Simon isn't doing anything wrong here, he's just concerned about you being a moody asshole.

Cinematography: To illustrate how the relationship is going south, the music room which used to be full of instruments, is just getting emptier and emptier, and Simon is left standing alone at the piano.

Subtext: No, he's not feeling ok, and no, he's not interested in making up with Sara right now, because he's still angry at her.

Subtext: There are different kinds of homophobia, for example, there are people who talk loudly about how accepting they are of The Gays, but who react negatively when someone close to them comes out, because they were only fine with it at a distance. And then there are people who are ignorantly homophobic in general, but who turn out to be supportive of anyone close to them who comes out, because they know that that person isn't like The Other Gays. Shitty, but less shitty than the first group, and I think that's how Erik would have reacted had he known about Wilhelm.

Culture: In Sweden, you do the practical driving test in a car provided by the testing centre to make it fair and equal for everyone. These cars all have a red sticker saying they're for driving tests.

Subtext: Micke is failing exactly how he described it in an earlier episode. He's on new medication, it made him feel good and like he was in control, so he thought he could take just one beer with his friends.

Subtext: No, it fits horribly, and you can clearly see that it was on sale and that the price tag is still on it. But this is what Linda can afford.

Lost in translation: Simon actually says "jag vet", "I know", when Sara tells him that their dad let her down and that she is sad and upset about it.

Subtext: Unlike Simon who got a cheap suit on sale, Wilhelm just has his perfectly tailored suit delivered to him by his bodyguards.

Subtext: Last episode Wilhelm picked a sport charity or something that he doesn't actually care about, because he thought it would best fit the narrative the royal court is going for. So now his internal homophobia is screaming at him to remove the nail polish, because it doesn't fit that image.

I don't know what this is: This has got to be an editing goof? This sequence of events doesn't work. Everyone else is up and about, preparing the third year's dinner with the teachers and they're even cooking the food with a chef, but it's early morning and Wilhelm is still sleeping in? Anyway, the whole thing is yet another example of how the school teaches hierarchy. As a younger student you service the older students, and when it's your turn to graduate, someone younger will service you.

Throwback: Aww, Simon made Wilhelm a sandwich, just like Wilhelm made one for Simon a bunch of times in previous seasons.

Culture: Man, early summer in Sweden is beautiful, isn't it? This was shot at Åkeshofs Slott in Stockholm, and if you do a 180 turn on that path, you'll see the subway station Åkeshov, and if you go through the tunnel under the road and then up to your right, you'll end up at a sports centre where I went twice a week as a kid for fencing training!

This tumblr is now about French school fencing! Doublé! Riposte!

Subtext: Time and time again the show has shown us how much August loves this shit, and that he wasn't lying when he said he knew everyone, because clearly he does!

Subtext: And to show how much Wilhelm dislikes this shit, he is so stiff when talking to the invited kids who are actually benefitting from his charity foundation, while August just immediately jokes around with them and is much more comfortable.

Culture: I've seen how a lot of fans think that the flower Wilhelm is wearing is a green carnation, which is a symbol for being gay, popularized by Oscar Wilde. I don't think so, that's not a thing in Sweden as far as I know. Instead, I think it's an alternate version of a Majblomma, which is an actual Swedish charity thing, where you can buy these plastic lapel flowers from schoolkids to show your support around this time of year.

Subtext: Even though Simon is there, he's being shoved to the back, because his presence doesn't fit the narrative. If Wilhelm instead had chosen to start some kind of LGBT charity, Simon would have had a much more prominent role. Oh, and poison or not, that Princess Cake looks delicious!

Subtext: Farima is expertly letting August down, who of course pretends that he's not the least bit disappointed at being excluded from having dinner at the royal palace.

Blink and you miss it: IT'S LISA! HI LISA!

Culture: Kalle Stropp och Grodan Boll are two characters from a radio show for kids from the 1940's, but they've also been featured in books, comic books, a live action movie, and animated cartoons. It's about the two titular characters, a cricket and a frog, and their adventures. The last movie was made in the 1990's though, so I'm not so sure kids these days knows who these characters are. Personally, I can't hear this song without hearing their silly character voices.

Subtext: The Queen is still keeping up appearances and lying through her teeth about how she's actually feeling.

Culture: In real world Sweden, Victoriadagen is celebrated in mid July when Crown Princess Victoria has her birthday, she hands out a sports award, there's a concert, some charity stuff, and you can sort of meet the royals or sing her happy birthday or something.

Subtext: August is repeating the excuse Farima used on him as to why he didn't attend the birthday dinner.

Blink and you miss it: That's a Rolex Oyster Perpetual GMT-Master II. It's only about $10,000 and change.

Subtext: Simon, sweetie, I don't think the royals have any clue as to what "the usual" means when you're describing how regular people celebrate birthdays.

Culture: Simon actually says Laserdome, which is a company in Sweden that has been running laser tag arenas since the 1990's. I had no idea they still existed!

Culture: They're singing Lambo, a drinking song for students. It's a challenge song, so while the rest of the table sings, the target has to finish their glass, correctly sing the response lines, and turn the glass upside down over their head. If you fail, like August does in this scene, you have to do a penalty round and chug another glass.

Subtext: ...before her parents heaped all of their family's expectations on her. But maybe if Felice can break free she could pursue her actual dreams?

Throwback: Remember the scene in S1E3 when Simon is practising the Hillerska song in the music room?

Subtext: Queenie, sweetie, you're not looking Wilhelm in the eyes, you're not engaging in the discussion, and the only thing you do is to talk about Erik every chance you get. No wonder Wilhelm has had enough and explodes at his parents.

Blink and you miss it: Vincent won the "Daddy pays" award. Pappa betalar.

Subtext: In this context the award just means that he's the image of a bad boy, a player. But throughout the season, August has been struggling with whether or not he's actually a bad person, which is why he's not exactly happy with the award.

Cinematography: Fuck me that's a pretty shot of a typical summer sunset. In late May in the Stockholm area, sunset happens at around 9:30 in the evenings.

Subtext: One more explanation for August's body dysmorphia is that he got bullied for being weak and scrawny when he first started at Hillerska, so he decided to start working out more.

Blink and you miss it: The reason Fredrika is outside and happens to see Sara and August kiss, is because she's trying to sneak away the bottle of wine she stole earlier from the kitchen.

Subtext: And the reason Felice looks upset when Fredrika tells her what she saw is because she truly thought Sara was over August, and that's a condition of them reconciling.

Blink and you miss it: Wilhelm plays the first few notes of the original Hillerska song.

Subtext: And to cap off this terrible no-good horrible cliffhanger episode, Simon breaks up with Wilhelm by repeating the words his mom said to him earlier in the episode.

#young royals #young royals subtext #young royals analysis #young royals season 3

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wqnwoos · 10 months

Text

you and choi seungcheol have been playing a game since the start of the summer.

it sort of went unspoken; lingering gazes and lopsided smirks instead of words. cat-and-mouse; who’s going to cave? who’s going to give in? who’s going to lose?

it was fun, at first. entertaining, even, sneaking out with him at night, speeding down your small town roads in his car, going absolutely nowhere. sneaking back in, muffling your giggles and waving him off from your window so he knows you’re inside okay.

ice-cream, sticky fingers, sandals on hot pavement; firework shows, drive-in movies, mall shopping. and through it all, undeniable tension lacing your every interaction with him. the feeling’s addictive — you could get drunk on it, the way the very air seems to crackle when the two of you are together.

the thing about addiction is that the highs don’t last long.

your sister calls it a situationship; your best friend calls it a pain in the fucking ass; your other friends call it a fear of commitment form both sides.

whatever it is, it’s starting to eat you alive, and you think you might just be the one to lose. not to cave, because you’re not stupid enough to actually confess to choi seungcheol; but you’re stupid enough to feel the need to.

especially on nights like tonight, where he rolls the windows down, lets the wind blow through his hair, sends you soft smiles every few minutes. seungcheol always has music playing in his car, you’ve noticed, but then, he’s been like that since you guys were in high school, three, four years ago. seventeen year old seungcheol was always getting in trouble with the teachers for having headphones in, among other things.

you were the opposite. invisible — quiet, one of those pleasure to have in class students. seungcheol was more than visible, he was noticeable. everyone noticed him.

“remember when you flipped all the chairs in mr daniels’ classroom, back in school?” you ask suddenly, breaking the silence.

a slightly smirk tilts his lips. “i didn’t know you knew about that.”

you scoff. “please. everyone knew about that.”

“he was an asshole,” seungcheol shrugs, instead of denying it. “he had it coming.”

“some might say you were an asshole back then,” you counter, and he whips his head to face you for a moment, before turning back to the road.

“who would say that?” seungcheol demands, but you can tell by his tone that he’s only joking, and he knows you’re joking too. “surely not you,” he adds. “we never even spoke in high school.”

which is true. your worlds hadn’t collided until well after high school — until last summer, when you were both twenty, through a friend of a friend of a friend, or something of the sort. now, you’re twenty-one, and he’s sneaking you out your parents’ house practically every night just for “a drive”.

these drives are slowly becoming self-destructive, because you’re falling deeper and deeper into him. he’s a flame and you’re the moth, running straight towards him blindly — and getting shocked when you get burnt.

“yeah, but i at least knew who you were back then!” you retort immediately, pulling yourself back to the present conversations.

“i knew you too!” seungcheol defends indignantly, his jaw dropping slightly.

“sure, cheollie,” you snort, patting his free hand.

he grabs your hand in his, interlacing your fingers, and you have to remind yourself to breathe, he’s just doing it to emphasise a point, this isn’t real, this isn’t more. “i did!” he insists. “we had the same english class. you sat in the second row from the back, right beside the window, and you had a clear pencil case and pastel highlighters, and at lunch you sat with your friends under the tree by the basketball court, and you had this ring” — he taps one of your favourite rings — “on almost all the time. and back in freshman year, you were nominated for class president and you turned it down. every time you had to introduce yourself and say a fun fact, you’d say your name and your favourite colour.”

you’re speechless, and seungcheol is enjoying it. “i told you,” he says cockily. “i did know you.”

“i stand corrected,” you say finally, breathing in deeply, thanking the stars above that he’s just pulled into your street, and you can freak out about this later. because everything about him — his earnest brown eyes, those stupid, beautiful dimples — makes you want to scream.

and you’re so lost in repressing this scream that you don’t realise he’s stopped the car opposite your house, and is looking at you in concern. “___?” he questions. “are you okay?”

you force a smile, already unbuckling and opening the door. “i’m fine! don’t worry!”

the next day, you get absolutely wasted.

you’re out without seungcheol, for once; with old friends from high school and newer friends from college, which is an odd mix, but once everyone’s downed a few shots, it doesn’t really matter.

you’re downing more than a few — fuelled mostly by the thoughts of a certain brown-eyed, dark-haired boy, which keep seeping into your mind; a never-ending stream of oh, he likes this whiskey!, and ahh, he loves this song! and a billion other things that remind you of him. ironic, that you go out to drink, cancel on him and his plans, in order to forget him, but all you can think about is him. you see him in everything; you miss him when he’s not near; and you come to the drunken conclusion that you’re falling a little too far into a summer fling, and you don’t know how to stop yourself.

and when it’s time to leave, your friends don’t quite know what to do with you. all you can whine about, against the judgement of that small sober corner of your mind, is cheollie, i miss him~, janeese, can you call him for me? and janeese, bless her patient soul, does exactly that.

he comes quickly. he always does when you call. but usually, you’re not drunk off your ass outside a bar — usually, you don’t greet him with a delighted gasp and a squeal (“you came! i knew you’d come for me!”). but he catches you when you fling yourself against him, steadies you and smiles against your shoulder. “hey, pretty,” seungcheol says, in that smooth, soothing voice of his, lips against your ear in a way that makes even your drunken self stir a little. “let’s get you home, yeah?”

you don’t say much of anything coherent until he’s trying to buckle you in the car, at which point you lift your drooping eyes and stare at his figure leaning over you. “you’re so handsome it makes me angry,” you accuse suddenly, brows furrowing in a way that makes seungcheol laugh — surprised, but endeared, as he tugs on a strand of your hair and pulls away.

“thank you,” he pronounces, with a mock bow, before shutting your car door and getting in on the other side.

he’s barely left the street when you start crying.

he doesn’t notice at first, only when you start sniffling — at which point his head whips towards you: “holy sh— baby, are you crying?”

“yes!” you wail, rubbing at your eyes furiously. his eyes are flicking rapidly between you and the road, one hand reaching out to grasp yours.

“what’s wrong? what happened?”

“you happened!” you choke through a dramatic sob, pushing his hand away. “you’re so mean. you’re mean to me, seungcheol.”

“mean— what did i do?” seungcheol’s worries features pull into a frown, and he rakes a hand through his hair. “tell me, baby, i’ll fix it. i swear.”

“that, for starters! the baby thing!” you declares, waving your hand with a grimace. “you make me all mushy inside and that’s mean — and you ask me if i’m fine and i say yes and i’m lying, by the way, so i guess i’m mean too — and you’re so pretty and — i don’t know! is this a game? am i a game?”

seungcheol had started pulling over halfway through your speech, and now he turns to face you properly, hands reaching towards you, and then faltering — he starts saying something, something brilliant and comforting and sweet, you’re sure, but you’re already cutting him off in your drunken fervour.

“i think,” and you hiccup here, sniffing weakly and turning away from him, “i think i might start loving you soon, and i just — i thought — maybe you could like me back, even a little, you know.”

this time, seungcheol does reach out for you, cupping your face, turning your face towards him slowly. “i do, baby,” he says softly, “more than a little, okay? much more.”

you lean against his tender touch with a weak sniffle and pitiful eyes gazing at him. “a lottle?”

a smile curves his lips. “yeah,” he agrees gently. “i like you a lottle.” he pauses, thumbing away your tears with delicate touches. “so don’t cry, okay? i don’t like seeing you sad — and,” he adds suddenly, like he’s just remembered, “i don’t like it when you call me seungcheol, okay?”

“that’s your name,” you say weakly. “what else do i call you?”

“cheol,” he suggests, “cheollie. baby.” he pauses, looks at you for a moment. “boyfriend.”

“okay, boyfriend,” you say, giggling suddenly. “take me home.”

an / this is requested by an anon as part of my 1k celebration event! prompt was the song cruel summer by taylor swift <3

perm taglist: @n4mj00nvq @eoieopda @som1ig @glowunderthemoon @wondering-out-loud @graybaeismytae @hannyoontify @sahazzy @dokyeomin (send an ask to be added!)

#seungcheol fluff #seungcheol comfort #seungcheol x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol #seungcheol angst #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fluff

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marshslovedone · 17 days

Text

Dom!Polyam!Main 4 x Sub!Fem!Reader sfw oneshot

CW: slight suggestive

✧༺🎀༻✧

“Aw what’s wrong, babygirl? Are we not giving you enough attention?” Kyle smirked as he moved the book he was reading away from him once he felt you crawl close to him and lay on his chest. You just let out a small whimper which kyle soon pets your head gently as he set the book down to pull you closer to him.

He proceeded to hold you closed and kiss your head as you relaxed in his arms. “babygirl, go to the other three if you want attention i have to finish this book for my class, I can’t provide attention right now” kyle smiled at you before giving in last kiss to your forehead before picking up the book to read more.

you sighed as you went to crawl over to stan who was also on the bed trying to fix tuning up his guitar not seeing you at first. He jumped a little feeling your hand on his forearm. Stan smiled as he leaned to kiss you which you returned instantly. “Wow there, angel, eager are we?”

“I want attention..kyle won’t give me it so im coming to you..” “sorry, angel, but im busy too, i have to get this guitar tuned so i can perform for crimson dawn still, ask kenny or cartman”

I sighed hearing Stan’s words, he gave me one last kiss on the cheek before returning his attention to the guitar. I soon looked over at kenny and cartman who were way too focused into the super smash bros match they were having. I just moved close to edge of the bed since they both were sitting on the floor but leaned against the edge

“Hey kenny—“

“you fucking asshole you cheated!”

“I did not! You just suck ass kinny!”

“Kenny..”

“Not now, babe”

I bit my lip I turned to cartman as he was focused to the tv screen.

“Cartman?—“

“Sorry, baby, can’t talk right now this match is important”

I sighed in hopelessness as I soon sat up and looked at the four of them, who were all busy at something, I slowly move out of the bed, which was Stan’s, and go to put my shorts on, I was in the bed with and oversized tee-shirt before.

“Hey”

I heard Stan’s voice which I turned around but he wasn’t talking to me.

“Kyle can you move your foot you’re hitting the guitar”

“yeah, sure”

I felt your heart twist, they didn’t even noticed me move from the bed. I grabbed my stuff and walked out the door of the bedroom and then left Stan’s home walking to mine which wasn’t far.

✧༺🎀༻✧

“Hey where is y/n?”

“What do you mean she’s right—“ cartman stopped himself before looking. “Here..?”

Kyle moved his book as stan set his guitar down looking back. “She was right here??” Stan looked at Kyle before grabbing his phone to text her.

✧༺🎀༻✧

[Marshin Man 💗]

Angel, where r u??

answer me, sweet girl

did you leave? why didn’t you say anything?

Baby?

✧༺🎀༻✧

“Shes not answering me..” stan sighed before putting his phone away. And looked back at the three boys. They each pull their own phones out.

“Hold on how about we text her in the gc maybe she’ll respond there.” Kyle said as he sat up more.

✧༺🎀༻✧

[kyle my knight 💘]

babygirl, answer stan or one of us please

we’re getting worried..

[ken doll 💘]

gorgeous please answer where did u go?? We’re bouta search for you if you don’t respond to us

[teddy bear 💗]

Y/N if you don’t respond to us, we’ll punish you, I’ll edge you until midnight if I have too.

✧༺🎀༻✧

“Jesus Christ cartman you didn’t have to say that!”

“It’s the only way she’ll speak! You should know this already we’ve all been dating her since sophomore year of high school we’re in our sophomore year of college”

“It doesn’t matter! She’s probably not going to respond to that message anyway—“

A ding was heard soon after which each boy stopped what they were doing and looked at cartman’s phone

✧༺🎀༻✧

[Dollface 💗]

im at home.

don’t come over

Each boy instantly got up and got in Stan’s car so they could go to y/n’s home. When they get there they instantly knock on the door which a voice inside yelled go away. The four of them look at each other before kyle pulls the extra key to her home out and goes to unlock the door.

After the door unlocked. And they all went in and to the girls room. Stan slowly opens the door as they see, their girl, on her bed with a pouty face as she stares at her tv. She looked over at them as she turned away from them.

“Babygirl, why did you leave? Did we do anything?”

Y/N didn’t say anything as she didn’t face them

“Angel, please talk to us..is it because we don’t give you attention? Is that why you’re all pouty?”

Y/N just kicked her feet as she felt being picked up by cartman and pulled into his lap, the three other boys moved close to her as y/n tried to hide her face

“Baby, you should’ve said something instead of leaving we would’ve stopped and gave you attention..now don’t ever do that again or else I’ll keep my word”

You just nodded and leaned into cartman as he started to bring you closer as Stan, Kyle, and Kenny started to rub her all over her body soothing her and give her small kisses.

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imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

@henderdads posted this about domestic fluff and I realize that I love this trope and I just don’t write enough of it, and I wanted to give her a little treat to read. Mostly because her tags when she reblogs on my post give me absolute joy, I laugh every time.

Two things might come as a surprise when getting to know Steve Harrington. The first being he didn’t actually like parties. He likes making other people feel good, wants to make them happy. Hence why for years, he lets Tommy and Carol wreak havoc on his house. It makes them happy and, for a short while, makes most of Hawkins High happy. Steve, in retrospect, has learned to regret this since he has now gained a reputation for being a party king, despite not throwing one in years, but he knows all too well how hard it is to let go of a high school reputation.

The second surprising fact is that Steve Harrington hated his birthday. Well, maybe hate wasn’t the right word, but he has incredibly low expectations for his birthday. Either everyone forgets his birthday, or somehow Steve is reminded that he is an inconvenience.

“Sorry sweetie, your dad has a business meeting that day.”

“Dude, I have a baseball game in that night could we do something another day?”

“I’m late! I know, we stayed up all night playing D&D. I even forgot to call Suzie!”

Steve isn’t necessarily hurt per se when these things happen. He knows that some people, more than others, are really trying. That it’s human to make mistakes. But Steve doesn’t like to get his hopes up; that’ll be much better than that.

There is also the more commonly now known fact that Steve doesn’t like being the center of attention. And birthdays come along with a lot of that. Sure, Steve wants someone to pay attention to him, really listen to what he has to say, but he has long since out grown the desperate need to have everyone look at him.

It is why it is such a surprise the upside down crew throws him a 24th birthday party.

Steve always thought something like this would upset him, but he is delightfully warm at the sight of all his friends, all of his family, inside Robin and Nancy's apartment screaming,

“Surprise, Dingus!”

Steve can’t believe she got everyone to say that.

After the shock of seeing them all packed like sardines wearing party hats, Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie walks up to him, placing a hat on his head and a soft kiss on his cheek. “I tried to stop them,” Eddie whispers. “I know you don’t like parties, but they just wanted to show how much they love you. It was hard to say no.”

Steve turns to Eddie, a man who knows him inside and out and knows he can’t lie to him. “I thought I would hate this, but I don’t. It’s perfect.” He kisses Eddie on the lips, just as soft as the one before.

“Good, because I really didn’t try to stop them.” Eddie smiles into the kiss.

“Ew!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Various shouts across the room cause the couple to giggle and pull apart. Eddie flips them all off, “It’s been four years, assholes! Grow up.”

Eddie runs off to particularly chase Mike, who actually hasn’t said anything but did make a face, and Steve can’t help but be overwhelmed by joy.

🎉🦇🎉🦇

Hours later, after the cake has been cut and the presents have been shared, and his kiddos are definitely way too drunk, the party doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. And Steve, who is having fun but growing antsy since he slowed down on drinking years ago, isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He doesn’t want to ruin the fun or make anyone think he didn’t have a good time. This is one of the best birthdays, if not the best one, he’s ever had. But Steve is getting overwhelmed and worn out. He isn’t really tired, but being social has reached its capacity for the night.

Even so, he can’t help but laugh at Robin as she tells a story about the most recent disaster of her sign language class, where kids keep accidentally swearing instead of the proper words.

Eddie catches his eye across the room; he looks happy as he talks to Hop and Wayne. But even mid-conversation, across the sea of people, he tugs his helix piercing over his right ear twice.

It’s their signal for, “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve rubs the scar over his left eye twice, “Yes please.” It means.

Eddie excuses himself and makes his way to Steve. “Hey, baby.” He interrupts Robin mid-rant, who makes a sound of drunken protest. “Did we feed Mrs. Pierson’s cat today?”

Another signal, which translates, “Do you want to go home?”

And Steve knows he can just tell Eddie yes, and they can stay at the party, and Steve will have fun, and he’ll be happy, but it isn’t what he wants. What he wants is to be at home with their own cat Beelzebub, snuggled up in their bed. So Steve says, “Shit, I don’t think we did.” Yes, please. Let’s go home.

Eddie acts quickly. They make their rounds, say goodbyes, and make their excuses. Everyone lovingly pokes at their forgetfulness. The couple insists everyone stays and enjoys themselves. Steve thanks everyone with individual hugs.

Steve and Eddie hold pinkies the entire walk home, down the streets of Indianapolis. The dark night blanket of night, and the never-ending sound of the city, keeping them safe enough to risk the intertwined digits.

When they make it home, they say nothing. They unwind slowly. Sharing kisses, delicately take off each other's clothes, hum into each others mouths. There is nothing rushed, or rough; they have time now. There will be moments for that later.

And in their journey from the front door to the bed, Eddie kisses the place where Steve’s shoulder and neck meet. It’s his signal for “I love you.”

Later, when they are tangled up in the sheets, heavy breaths slowing down, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, Steve leans up and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. It’s his signal for “I love you more.”

Eddie’s smile back says, “that just isn’t possible.”

“Thank you for today.” Steve finally speaks out loud, playing with Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, it isn’t over yet, baby.” And Eddie jumps out of bed naked, running out of the room.

Steve can’t help but cackle at his boyfriend's antics. There is a sudden thump on the bed; Steve peeks down to see their cat making his home on the end of their bed like he knows they are finally done for the night. “Hey, bee.” Steve scratches him behind his ear, earning a resounding purr from him. A little to the left, it means.

Eddie comes back into the room and dives back into the bed, bouncing Beelzebub but not startlingly him enough to move. Steve supposes he’s used to his father's antics. “Okay, I would tell you to close your eyes, but I know you’re not going to listen, so I’m just going to hand them to you.”

Steve giggles and grabs the pieces of paper in his hands and his heart stops. “Eddie.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s grin is wide.

“These are three tickets to see Madonna.”

“Yup.” Eddie pops his ‘p’ clearly proud of himself. “One for you, one for Robs of course, and one for me.”

Steve whispers in awe, “But you hate Madonna.”

Eddie brushes the hair out of Steve’s face, “Please, no one can hate Madonna.” Eddie’s eyes turn soft, “Besides, you love her, and you love me. It only felt fair to have us both in the same place. And you’d worry the entire time if I wasn’t there.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight. Hoping he can translate how much he loves this man through it. Steve loves making other people happy, but no one has loved making Steve happy, quite like Eddie. “I love you so much,” Steve says once he leans back.

Eddie kisses the place where his shoulder and his neck meet. I love you. Eddie kisses the tip of his nose. I love you more. Finally, he holds Steve’s face and says aloud,

“I love you too.”

***

Was this perhaps inspired by the fact I turn 24 in a week and a half? Maybeee. I’m a lot like Steve in this where I have such mixed feelings about my birthday. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about it if I’m honest, and I don’t have high hopes.

Unlike me, I don’t have a partner like Eddie, but Steve deserves the world and I wanted him to have some loving and domestic fluff. The idea that these two have secret signals is an important headcannon to me, and I would love to see others take on it.

I hope @henderdads you enjoyed this if you made it this far. It was a lot of fun to write. :)

#steddie #giving these boys the fluff they deserve #they have secret signals for everything #especially a ‘can you believe this guy’ one #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #birthday blues #stranger things #domestic fluff #happy ending #my writing #platonic stobin #Robin Buckley

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albertdabuttler · 1 year

Text

Masked Adversary | D.L.

MASTERLIST

this fics masterlist

fandom: Kick-Ass

pairings: Dave Lizewski/Kick-Ass x F!Reader

WARNINGS: (in this chapter) swearing lolz, angst and fluff splattered here and there, reader and Dave hate each other and its very amusing (to me), two creeps try to kidnap you but Kick-Ass saves the day! mention of a small cut and blood, i think that's it?

summary: You and Dave have lost a childhood friendship. The circumstances have made you grow to despise one another, until Kick-Ass has no one else to turn to but you, causing him to develop a small crush. The only problem being that you don't know it's him.

WC: 3k

gif not mine !!

A/N: hei... I'm back and better and bigger than ever! I have a couple more parts to this fic coming so I hope you like it!

———————

“Man, why do you guys hate each other’s guts so much? Weren’t you two like best friends three years ago?” Said Todd, cutting the tension. You had forced yourself to sit at the same table as Dave, only to avoid looking like a pitiful loser and sitting alone.

“I don’t know, Todd” Your tone laced with sarcasm, “Maybe you should ask David.” You tried to quickly finish your lunch.

Dave only sighed in annoyance. He didn’t like this broken friendship with you. You had known him since you moved to the city when you were four and quickly became attached at the hip. In freshman year he developed a crush on Katie Deauxma and stopped talking to you thinking Katie might think you two were a thing. You told him to stop ignoring you and he talked to you like some girl who was just obsessed and jealous. After you slapped him in the face for acting like a dick, your friendship ended. Although it was his fault, the way you so quickly cut him off after (rightfully) acting like a bitch to him, had his blood boiling.

You weren’t jealous of Katie because he liked her. You just couldn't stand to see him waste his time on a girl when he should have been worrying about the next issue of his favorite comic.

Anyone at your school could say that you and Dave Lizewski were often at each other’s throats. It’s not like you actually fought all the time, most of the time you could withstand a normal conversation with him, or even just being in the same room. You always somehow found things to argue about in every class you had together. Dave was even more pushed around now thanks to the acquaintances you had that happened to be on the football team.

“Alright, I’m finished. See you in class, Todd. Bye Marty.” You smiled softly at them, sending them a small wave and completely ignoring Dave’s presence. You had an argument before coming to lunch, that’s why you didn’t talk to him.

“See ya,” Said Marty with his mouth full, waving enthusiastically.

Dave hit his arm.

“What? Just ‘cause you’re mad at her doesn’t mean we have to be.” Marty said.

“Yeah…” Agreed Todd, watching you as you walked away. “She’s hot as fuck.”

“Shut up, Todd. You fucking hornball. She’s insufferable.” Dave rolled his eyes, picking up his things to go to his next class.

He pondered daily about what he did to lose your friendship, you meant everything to him. Although from the outside it looked like he wanted to strangle you, he secretly wanted to be your best friend again.

“Hey Cleo,” you greeted a friend at your locker. You had three classes with her. “Hey! Did you see that new video of Kick-Ass?”

“…No, I haven’t.” You laughed nervously.

“Yeah, he fights off some assholes trying to rob a guy. He totally kicked their asses.” She chuckled.

“Why’s everyone so into him?” You queried.

“‘Cause its a brave teenage guy fighting for what’s right, duh! He’s also super cute.”

“But you haven’t even seen his face,” you continued.

“Have you actually looked at him? If you don’t see anything in him, there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Whatever.” You giggled at her excitement, beginning your walk to class.

———————

Unfortunately for you, being late to your last class got you detention after school. As a result, you missed the bus back home and none of your friends with cars had stuck around to take you back. There was no way in hell you’d get into a cab alone, so you had to walk home.

It wasn’t a terribly long walk, but it was a drag. An hour of walking made headphones very useful in such times, and you were glad you brought them today.

Walking home included having to pass through a small part of the city in order to get to your neighborhood. It wasn’t the best of places, but the convenience store at a corner on the way there helped improve your mood.

“Thanks Pat!” You told the old lady at the register. She was the sweetest, and you often passed through here so she grew a liking to you, occasionally letting you take a free candy bar for your journey.

“Of course baby. Get on home safe, alright? Come back soon!” She smiled. This brought a grin to your face.

Continuing the walk home, you felt some sort of presence behind you.

Fuck.

You were about to turn a corner when a man grabbed you by your wrist.

“Why’s such a pretty girl like you walking all by herself?” He smirked.

“Let me go, you fucking creep!” You tugged your hand away, the other man walking closer causing you to take a step back. In the corner of your eye you spotted someone, Kick-Ass was making his way to turn the corner.

“Help!” You yelled, making the masked hero jolt up to look at you. His eyes widened upon meeting yours and he hesitated before he quickly made his way to you.

“Shut the fuck up, you little bitch. What’s in your bag?”

The other man was about to take your bag before Kick-Ass turned the corner.

“Hey! The hell are you assholes doing?”

They both stared at him, one nodding at the other as he ran to fend the hero off.

You could only stand there and watch as the other man tried pulling you away. Kick-Ass was able to knock the robber out with his baton after the short brawl. Thankfully the man in the mask caught up, but the man holding you held a knife to your throat.

“Back the fuck off or I’ll kill her.”

Your entire life flashed before your eyes. You thought of all the mistakes you've ever made, how you fucked up big-time with Dave and now that you were about to die, you'd never be able to fix the friendship you had with him. You thought about what you would say to him if you got the chance to make peace with him. How you'd apologize for being such a bitch, how you'd give him that collection of The Punisher he gave you back in freshman year that you never got the chance to return due to the fight you had, how you were currently not on the best terms with your parents, how you never got to apologize to that one girl you didn't stick up for when she was being bullied by some girls you knew.

How you were going to die without getting to share any kind of intimacies with a boyfriend. You'd had two boyfriends before, no more, no less. Both those relationships ended because you were either a rebound or "practice." To put it simply, they couldn't keep it in their pants and you would die a virgin for being so afraid.

Kick-Ass stared between you and the culprit.

“There’s a camera right there.” He pointed his thumb behind him, and sure enough there was a camera pointing straight at you and the criminal.

The man threw you to the ground, attempting an attack on Kick-Ass. Not even five seconds into the fight, the knife was quickly knocked onto the street. The mugger did get quite a few hits in, even knocked Kick-Ass down a couple of times. But as soon as the masked man was on top of him, he kept jabbing and hooking, not once letting the man recuperate.

It was a painful sight to see, like he was taking all his anger out on the bad guy. You could only stand there and watch in awe.

“Don’t ever touch anyone again, asshole.” He said, holding the man’s collar.

“Okay man, just let me go!” He begged for mercy. Kick-Ass knocked him out with one last fist to the face.

He got up and looked at you. Realizing who you were, he pushed aside all his personal problems with you and lent you his hand to help you up, “Uh…A—are you okay miss?”

“Yes, I’m—I’m fine,” you stuttered, still in utter shock that you almost got kidnapped. But so incredibly grateful that he was there to save you.

“Did they hurt you anywhere?” He questioned, dismissing the fact he had a little scratch on his eyebrow that was bleeding too much for your comfort.

“No, I’m okay. Even if I wasn’t, my mom’s a nurse so I’d be fine. Are you?” You looked at his eyebrow, pointing to it.

“It’s fine, doesn’t even hurt...” He waved his hand.

You looked behind him only to see that the man he first fought was gone already.

“We should get out of here, the cops’ll probably be coming soon,” you looked into one of the stores on the sidewalk, seeing that a couple of people had their phones out and had recorded the whole thing. And that meant someone probably called the cops too.

“Yeah,” He looked back at them and waved with a smile. “Let me walk you home,” He offered.

You didn’t even know who he was under that mask, but something told you that you could trust him. “Sure, thank you.”

———————

“Why’d you even decide to be a hero anyway?” You laughed.

“I dunno. I see so many comic book nerds but it’s just weird that no one has actually tried to be a hero yet. And I guess I just wanted to see what it was like.” He chuckled.

“So you like getting your ass kicked every so often, Kick-Ass?” You giggled.

“Ha, good one,” he scoffed at your pun.

“But seriously, why haven’t you quit, even after getting hurt all the time?” You asked.

“I—I got into an accident, I can barely feel pain ‘cause of it. Plus, I can’t just look the other way anymore.” He looked at you. “Sure as hell couldn’t turn away from the damsel in distress.” He joked. The suit and mask gave him such incredible confidence and ego.

You smacked his shoulder, scoffing. The walk home with Kick-Ass had you finding out that the two of you had quite a lot in common. The both of you really liked comics, he was a kid your age, and he was also one of Pat’s favorite customers. Kick-Ass seemed like he was an amazing guy. Too bad he wore a mask.

“Welp, this is me,” you arrived at your home. “thanks for walking me home. I really enjoyed talking to you.” You smiled widely,

“Don’t mention it, I also enjoyed talking to you. I—If you ever need anything… Just message me on MySpace… Or something.” He smiled softly.

Now you understood what Cleo and every other girl saw in him.

“Sure thing, Kick-Ass. Same to you. You know where I live now,” you chuckled bashfully.

You looked at him for a second too long.

“I feel like I know you—you’re so familiar.” You spoke.

His heart began to race, “Well, I guess we’ll never know.” He chuckled nervously, looking elsewhere.

His eyes were so damn beautiful. They were so blue, they looked like sapphires or something.

How corny, you thought.

“See ya ‘round,” he saluted, turning to walk away.

“See you…” You spoke, but he was already out of earshot.

His strut was so fucking hot. Who knew you’d be attracted to the way a man walked?

———————

“You lucky bitch! Did you have a super hot make out session after that!?” Cleo spoke as you two grabbed your trays for lunch.

“Shut up!” You laughed. “No, I just think he’s cute is all. But thank fuck he was there. I probably wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for him.”

“Just when I thought he couldn’t get any hotter.” She sighed contently at the story of your interaction with him.

“Hey, let’s go sit over there,” She pointed at a table with three boys, Todd, Dave, and Marty. “I told Todd I’d sit with him today.”

“Sure thing…” You agreed hesitantly. She bit her lip before continuing. “Is it just me or is Todd kinda cute?” She whispered, giggling as you approached the table.

You only rolled your eyes. “Hey guys,” You greeted, sitting next to Marty, Cleo sitting next to Todd across from you. Dave still in his usual spot at the end of the table.

“Hi Dave.” You smiled almost artificially, showing you weren’t so mad at him anymore.

The three boys looked at each other in surprise.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Said Todd.

“Hey.” Dave finally replied.

“What’s up with you?” Questioned Marty, “Can’t remember the last time you actually said ‘hi’ to Dave.” He said sarcastically.

“Guess I’m in a good mood.” You glanced at Dave, suddenly letting go of the resentment you had towards him, because of the fact your life was almost taken from you. You took the chance you had now, to begin to sort everything out before it would be too late. You still disliked him though. Not because of what he did, but because he's just a dick.

Does she know? He thought to himself anxiously. You were the last person he wanted to know about this. He just wouldn't be able to stand the embarrassment.

“Did you guys see the fight Kick-Ass had last night?” Asked Cleo.

“What? No,” Marty and Todd got excited.

“Yeah, why don’t you tell them what happened?” Cleo smiled, giving you the spotlight.

You looked at the boys awkwardly,

“I was about to get kidnapped… And, uh yeah. Kick-Ass kicked these two guys' asses...”

Todd and Marty were upset at the lack of detail, but Dave giggled quietly at the joke, smiling as he poked his food.

“I’m gonna have to watch it later.” Marty said, Todd then agreeing.

“Do you guys seriously have a crush on him or something?” Questioned Dave.

Cleo laughed. “Dave, every girl I know has a crush on him.”

He swallowed, he wasn't aware of this. Dave never caught the attention of girls. That he knew of.

“I mean, you have a crush on him too, right?” Cleo asked you, trying to prove her point.

Dave’s eyes widened before looking your way.

“I—I mean I wouldn't call it a crush, but yeah, I guess he’s pretty cute... I like... His eyes. The color's really nice."

Dave couldn't help but smile at the flattery. Knowing that you were attracted to him, in a way, made him feel so odd. He never thought you'd see him that way. Well, not him, but whatever part of him you could see.

"You think he has nice eyes?" Dave chuckled. It made you a little mad because it sounded like he was making fun of you.

"Yes, he does. What about it?" Cleo butted in.

"Not just his eyes, though." She turned to you, "He's got super broad shoulders and a nice ass. Just saying I'd hit. He’s definitely big." She whispered the last part under her breath.

"Ooookay! I think you got your point across, Cleo. Thanks for sharing." You gave her a look that said, 'Why the fuck would you say that out loud?'

“What? I'm just being honest." She continued eating her lunch like it wasn’t a big deal.

You could only stare in utter shock, blinking over and over, trying to figure out if this was a dream or if Cleo really just said that.

You spotted Dave in the corner of your eye with something not quite like disgust, but his jaw hung ajar. Then you noticed Todd and Marty staring at her the same way.

"I know you can at least agree that he has a nice ass," Cleo smirked at you.

You just laughed and resumed eating your food.

"I didn't know you girls for real liked guys' asses. I thought that was just a guy thing." Spoke Todd, teasing.

"Shut up, Todd." You said, making a short second of eye contact with Dave, it looked like he was thinking the same thing as you, and you both giggled in unison.

The others looked between you both weirdly, making the two of you clear you throats and quickly finish eating.

The hell am I being so giggly with him for?

———————

You had your last three classes with Dave, but you never acknowledged him. Today some of your teachers decided to rearrange your seating. You thankfully didn't get any seats next to him, and you hoped you wouldn't either at your last class.

"Fuck," you checked your wristwatch as you switched out your books from your locker, only to see that you were going to be late for the last class. You hoped and hoped that you didn't get another detention.

You made your way to the classroom as fast as you could, stopping right outside the door to avoid bursting it open and embarrassing yourself. The excitement you felt when you noticed a single empty seat in the back corner of the class was incomprehensible.

Until you noticed Dave in the spot next to it. He looked up as he heard the door open, immediately locking eyes with you. You sighed in disappointment, knowing that there was no way the teacher would let you switch.

"Looks like you're stuck with me for the rest of the year." Dave whispered as he looked up at the teacher, taking out his textbook.

"Fuck you, Lizewski." You sneered, only making Dave roll his eyes, keeping his attention on the teacher.

“For the next three weeks, you will all be working on a presentation. If you don’t have it turned in by the 18th, you will get 10 points taken off your grade.” The teacher explained what he wanted you to study. The class groaned in annoyance, some people being excited, and others not.

“Everyone in columns A, C, and E, your partner will be the person to your right.” Again, most of the people in the class were content with who they were assigned, but unfortunately for you, you were the person to Dave’s right.

You stiffly turned to Dave, “We can study at my house… If you want.” You spoke.

“Let’s just do the first parts tonight and we can work on it at your house after school tomorrow.” He spoke with a bit of irritation. Probably because of your attitude earlier.

“Okay, sounds good..” You awkwardly pursed your lips and turned back to your book.

———————

thanks for reading!

#dave lizewski #kick ass #aaron taylor johnson #kickass fic #kickass x reader #dave lizewski x reader #dave lizewski fluff #dave lizewski angst #aaron taylor johnson fic #fanfic #writing #iz writes #dave lizewski fic #angst #fluff

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whorergal · 1 year

Text

LOVERS THAT WENT WRONG

summary: instead of quinn, ethan is the one who “dies” in the apartment scene and leaves you heartbroken

warnings: description of blood, gore & murder. language (cussing). it follows the plot loosely.

pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader

authors note: hiiii i haven’t written bc i’ve been uninspired but im forcing myself to write this one :-) this idea has been in my head for awhile and i just need to get it out before i forget sooo yeah :3 hope you enjoy! i might break this into two parts btw (also should i do a happy or angsty ending?)

>> PART TWO <<

——————————————————————————————

You walked inside your room with a wince. Since the recent Ghostface attack both Sam and Tara endured, they came up with the bright idea to invite everyone over your shared apartment. They thought with everyone in the same place it would eliminate the possibility of them being attacked again, or worse, ultimately killed. There was barely enough room in the apartment to house four girls so adding Chad, Mindy and Anika to the mix was chaotic.

Thankfully, Quinn was gone for the night. Apparently she had a one night stand that wanted to meet up so she left, despite Sam's excessive disapproval.

Tara was in the kitchen with Chad and Mindy, chatting and laughing very loud. The reason you found it annoying at the moment was because you forced your boyfriend, Ethan, to come over while he was trying to study for his Econ exam.

He was the one person you couldn't risk losing so if that meant you made him fail his exam because he couldn't focus, then yeah, that's what you'll do.

"Are they being too loud?" you asked him.

"If I say yes, could you shut them up?" He looked up wearing a sarcastic smile, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

You chuckled breathlessly, taking a seat beside him on your bed. "I tried, believe me."

Ethan sighed, dropping his pen. "It's fine. I mean, I have an A in the class—one exam can't hurt…right?"

"How about this," you interrupted him before he began to ramble, handing him the granola bar he asked for. "I go out there and try to calm them down. I'll give you the space you need as well."

"Well, you can bother me all you want," he blurted. His cheeks turned red when he saw you look at him in surprise.

You leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his lips. Then you peppered kisses all over his face which made him scrunch his nose. "I love you and I want you to pass this exam. The least I could do is help you get some silence. It's my fault you're here in the first place."

"Hey, don't say that," he shushed you. "I wanted to come to see my beautiful girlfriend. Don't worry that pretty head of yours about me. I'll be fine." His words meant more because he knew how paranoid you'd become.

"Promise?"

Ethan paused to smile. "Promise."

He kissed you very briefly, looking at you in adoration which made you blush. The perfect moment was ruined when Mindy's roar bellowed all throughout the house.

"Stop! Don't! This is my favorite shirt, you asshole!"

You groaned in annoyance. "I'll take care of that. You stay here and study. I'll check up on you in a few."

"Okay, baby." He laughed, finding you adorable whenever you were mad. "Don't hurt them."

"No promises there."

You heard him laugh one last time before you exited, shutting your door behind you. Anika sat on the couch, giving you an annoyed look as well, seeing as she was trying to read her book.

"I tried to tell them," she said.

Nodding, you ventured over toward the kitchen where the four were all laughing. Tara noticed you first and dropped her smile, already knowing what was to come. You had just gotten done complaining about how loud they were and she was sure you were coming back to do just that.

Chad, however, was too oblivious to notice as he jumped up from his spot at your appearance. "There she is! Core fucking five in the house!" You hit him, making him wince. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Ethan's trying to study and you're yelling," you reprimanded him like he was a little kid.

"Shit. He's still doing that?"

Tara stifled a laugh while Mindy rolled her eyes.

"What's got you guys all rowdy, anyway?" You walked over to the pot that was brewing, taking a wooden spoon to sip on the suspicious liquid.

"Well, first Chad gave us a nickname to which I obviously disagreed with and he tried to splash me with soup," Mindy explained as she leaned against the counter.

"Core five." Chad smiled widely.

You furrowed your brows. "Isn't it core four?"

"Well, you know…" he trailed before he shook his head. "Look, it doesn't matter. There's five of us so I declare core five is now an official thing."

"You can't just give yourself a nickname, dingus," Mindy retorted, being the first to argue with her brother at any chance she got.

"Oh, of course I can, dingus, because I just did. Core five, up top!" Chad exclaimed with less volume then before, raising his hand in front of Mindy's face.

"No." She shook her head.

He turned to Tara. "Down low."

"Get that away from me."

"Please, for the love of God," he begged when he rose his hand toward Sam.

She smiled, but still didn't make a move.

He then turned to you. "If you don't high-five me, I'm going to scream."

"Don't do it." Mindy interrupted.

"You know, I would like some more respect from the fellow members of the core five." He gave up, crossing his arms.

"Please, stop calling us that," Tara pleaded, wincing.

"Guys," Anika's voice called but no one heard her, the sound of your laughter and teasing of Chad overpowering her. She dropped her book, getting up. "Guys! Stop. Listen."

You all silenced in curiosity. When you listened to Anika's orders, there was a loud crash heard in your room. You didn't immediately think of Ghostface just because there was no way they would be ballsy enough to attack someone with multiple people still in the apartment. You thought, at least.

"It's just Ethan. He must've dropped something." You calmed their nerves, turning around to get a water bottle from the fridge. "I'll go check on him."

Anika nodded, slowly sitting back down as she forced herself to believe your words.

Then, everyone's phones went off. You didn't have yours because you left it inside your room so you peered to look at Chad's phone who leaned it toward you to see.

The image caused your heart to fall to your stomach.

Danny, your next door neighbor, had shared a photo to everyone of Ethan being manhandled by Ghostface. It was then that his screaming filled the silent apartment and your flight instincts kicked in.

You dropped your water, running straight to your room in the attempt to help him. "Ethan!"

Right before you could open the door, Sam pulled you back very roughly. You lost your balance, falling into her arms as she held you close. You started to fight against her but she shushed you which had you pausing in confusion.

Chad had Tara in his arms, who was following straight after you in order to aid you while Anika was pushing Mindy behind her. When you all focused on the noise, you realized that…there was no noise. The photo echoed in your mind like a throbbing reminder to what was happening behind the door but the eerie quietness of what should be filled with screams of pain caused you to relax in Sam's arms.

"Ethan," you whispered shakily.

You pushed Sam away from you, getting up and shoving the door open. You knew the risk. You knew going in there would only cause more casualties but you couldn't find anything in you to care. All you cared about was Ethan.

"Y/N, no!" you heard them all shout at once.

Once you pushed the door open, simultaneously, Ethan's body was thrown on top of you. His dead weight caused you to lose balance again and fall to the floor, hitting your head on the wooden surface.

Then, reality sunk in and you let out a horrific scream that sent chills down everyone's body at the sight of Ethan's lifeless eyes staring right into you. His blood was coating your entire body, his body still warm but his face pale. His brown eyes held no emotion and his lips were untouched.

You wanted this to be a joke. You wanted him to wake up and say he was just kidding even if it would be a shitty prank to pull on someone. You wanted to hear him say your name, or hear his chuckle whenever he laughed at his own jokes. You felt tears pouring out of your eyes subconsciously. You couldn't even find the strength in you to push his body off of you because you didn't want to.

A strong pair of hands gripped you suddenly, forcing you up and causing you to toss Ethan's body carelessly to the side, making his arm to hit the floor motionlessly as his face was now staring at the ceiling.

It was there that you briefly got a good look at the wounds on his body. Blood was smeared all over his stomach that you couldn't even see the light blue that used to be the color of his shirt. You could see some wounds in his stomach still gushing fresh blood too. It was also splattered all over his face and drenched his pants as well. You felt sick to your stomach.

"Ethan, no," you whimpered very desperately.

Tara pushed you forward, forcing you out of the building and down the stairs. You were completely in their control as every limb in your body went numb. Chad was practically carrying you at that rate because you couldn't build the power to even stand.

It was when Anika's screams echoed the empty stairwell that kicked you back into gear. Throwing him off guard, you managed to shove him away from you which sent both him and Tara falling against the wall harshly.

You rushed back up the stairs and ran face first into the closed door. You tried to open it but it was locked. No matter how hard you try to shove yourself against it, it wouldn't budge. Not only was it locking you out from not being able to grieve over your dead boyfriend but helping Mindy, Anika and Sam, who were now trapped inside with Ghostface.

"Shit," Tara gasped as she realized.

You both pounded on the door, as if expecting Ghostface to happily answer and let you two in. It was silent on their end which only made you three more paranoid.

"Do you have your keys?!" Chad asked.

"No, I left them inside!" Tara exclaimed in worry, turning back around to continue pounding on the door.

"Look, we have to go get help," Chad tried his best to reason rightfully, his response valid. "If we stay out here, we'll only waste more time."

"Oh, god…" you trailed your words, becoming weak again as you looked down at your hands. "His blood. He's dead. He's actually gone. I can't—"

"Hey, I got you," Chad whispered, pulling you into his arms as he guided you and Tara down the stairs. He wanted to worry about Mindy but he needed to be strong for you two, who seemed in worse shape than he was.

You don't remember how but Chad got you three down the stairs safely and called for help. The police arrived too late as when they went up to help them, Sam and Mindy had made it across the building inside Danny's apartment without Anika, who succumb to her wounds while being thrown off the ladder that they climbed on.

Mindy, Tara and Chad both sat in one ambulance while you sat in your own, wanting to be left alone.

You stopped crying after an hour but the pained feeling was still alive in your chest. What was worse was that you weren't allowed back inside your apartment to get his things as it was now a crime scene so you sat in thought. You had nothing left of him. Just his blood on your clothes.

When you realized this, you began to cry again. You dropped your head into your knees, curling up against the wall of the ambulance as police scattered around.

You brought your head up when you felt someone sit beside you. Ready to tell them to leave you alone, you saw Mindy offering her blanket to you. She was the only one who understood what you were going through so you accepted it and leaned to cry on her shoulder.

While she remained emotionless, you cried for the both of you. She just held you close, rubbing your arm.

"Y/N, Mindy," the voice that belonged to Quinn snapped you into reality. "I'm so sorry."

"Step the fuck back," Mindy warned, tightening her grip around you. "You're at the top of my list."

"I'm sorry, alright?" Quinn whispered, but she looked at you very specifically when saying that. "I'm sorry."

You gave her a forced smile, watching as she was pulled away by Sam. It gave you and Mindy space to grieve.

#ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you #jack champion #scream imagine #scream vi imagine

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devildom-moss · 1 year

Text

Punishment (Lucifer)

What has Lucifer done wrong, and how will MC try to punish him?

(Lucifer x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (sub!Lucifer / dom!MC) (plot-heavy) (NSFW tags: degradation for Lucifer, "puppy/pet/good boy" used with varying descriptors, puppy/pet play, bondage, tail butt plug, use of aphrodisiacs, jealousy, mild cuckholding, neglect, leg humping)

Word Count: +2,900

It had been a long day. On top of your classes, you had just spent four hours reviewing for an exam with Satan in the library. Sure, you were prepared to do well when the test came around in a few days, and it was worth it to have the weekend free so you could relax, but the effort was draining. The last thing you wanted to deal with was one of the brothers’ stupid antics. Yet, you rushed to Mammon’s room the second you heard his blood-curdling scream just as you stepped foot in the entrance.

“Mammon! I’m coming into your room!” you shouted through the door before entering. His only reply was an agitated wail.

When you got in, Mammon was strung up from his ceiling, struggling and sobbing. He wouldn’t even acknowledge you. Instead, he muttered weakly, “go away. Make it stop, please. Please, stop it.”

The tears were flowing down – or rather, up – Mammon’s face, dropping onto the glass top table below. He looked so miserable and pitiful that you would have expected the entire house to be ablaze in order to justify this punishment. You dragged the table out of the way before throwing every pillow from the couch and all of Mammon’s bedding onto the floor below him.

“Mammon, can you hear me? I’m going to get you down with magic. I can’t reach the rope from here. Relax, don’t thrash around too much, and you’ll be fine,” you yelled up at him. He still ignored you, crying even harder in response. You felt a few tears hit your arm. What could he have done this time?

You released the rope from the ceiling and Mammon came crashing down – almost safely, barring a few bruises. Still, Mammon was sobbing and begging for some invisible threat to leave him alone. If he had appeared less horrified, you might have assumed he was telling you to go away, but Mammon wouldn’t look at you and had never seemed so afraid of you before. Something was horribly wrong. From this distance, you could sense a curse concentrated in that rope. Luckily, when you tried to untie him, no harm came to you.

The second the rope hit the floor and was removed from around Mammon’s body, he seemed to awaken from his previous state. Tears were still coating his face, but he was finally staring directly at you. With a few more seconds to process, Mammon wiped his face and jumped into your arms.

“Ya saved me. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you! That jerk, Lucifer, put a curse on me and everything I saw was right out of a horror movie. I was up there for three hours, MC. Why didn’t you come to my rescue sooner?”

Lucifer had strung Mammon up and cursed him with horror movie hallucinations for something as small as ditching one class – which was practically insignificant as far as Mammon’s antics are typically concerned. That was the last straw.

Admittedly, Lucifer had been acting like a little bitch all week. He was snippy and moody – an unrelenting and unforgiving presence that added to your stress instead of alleviating it as he often attempted to do. Maybe he would behave of his own accord, and you could have a relaxing weekend for once, but you weren’t chancing it. You headed to his room to squash the problem at its roots.

“Lucifer, are you in there?” you shouted through his door after a few harsh knocks. “Open up. I don’t want to kick your door in.”

Lucifer opened his door, flustered to see you. His brows were scrunched in confusion, “the door was unlocked, you know.”

“I,” you started. Fuck. “Well, I’m not in the habit of opening other people’s doors without permission.”

“My brothers are resistant to retraining,” Lucifer sighed and stepped aside for you to come in. No, fuck off, you do that too, asshole, you thought. However, that wasn’t your point of argument this time, so you decided to drop it.

“So, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you questioned him.

“What?”

“You’ve been so bitchy all week, and this stunt with Mammon – seriously? He ditched one class, and you’re torturing him for it. That was way too far. He’s been pretty normal all week. What kind of bullshit are you taking out on him? He’s not your punching bag.”

“That’s none of your business,” he retorted, failing to look at you. “Stay out of it.”

“Are you fucking kidding me with that?” You stepped forward. Now his eyes were on you – cautious and unblinking like some wary animal. “I live with you all. Every one of you drags me into your shit. How was I supposed to stay out of it? I had to heat up a pack of Mammon’s favorite noodles and hold him until he stopped crying. How is that an appropriate punishment?”

“I’ll repeat myself,” he adjusted his gaze and straightened his posture, “stay out of it.”

“That’s all you have to say?” It was as if his pride had blinded him to the pain he inflicted on others. His lack of explanation only cemented his wrongdoings. He knew he was in the wrong, and instead of apologizing and correcting himself, he dug his heels excruciatingly, irritatingly deeper. You grabbed the collar of his uniform roughly, inching yourself closer instead of pulling him in. Summoning all your annoyance, you spoke: “what the fuck? You come to me with so much, and now that I ask you directly when something is clearly wrong, you keep that mouth shut? For what? So you can cause me more trouble?”

No one else could pull those terrified doe eyes out of Lucifer like you could. When you glanced down at his offensively silent mouth, his lips were slightly parted, and his lower lip trembled ever so subtly that it appeared to be a trick of the eye. He shrank in the face of your anger – crumbled at your justice.

“I didn’t. . .” Lucifer trailed off as he averted his gaze – his voice lost in the short oblivion between your lips and his.

“What?”

“I didn’t mean to take it all out on him.” Lucifer admitted, slowly suffocating his pride.

“Why did you?”

“He was texting you when he ditched.”

“And?”

“I wanted to be the only one you paid attention to – not just then, but all week.”

“You were being a little bitch all week because you were jealous?” you scoffed at him. That was a poor excuse.

“And pent up. I keep touching myself to the thought of you – but it’s not the same.” Lucifer took one of the hands grasping at his collar and lowered it to the bulge in his pants. He lowered his gaze to the floor, face flushed pink, and muttered, “see?”

You only left your hand there long enough to feel how hard he had gotten in your presence before pulling back. “That’s a sorry excuse. I’d rather you just be sorry. I think a punishment is in order for you.”

“Me?” Lucifer hesitated, but the glint of hatred in your eyes – the kind of hatred that exists temporarily in moments of extreme annoyance that seems indistinguishable to participating parties – terrified him. He nodded cautiously. “Okay.”

You guided him to the foot of his bed and commanded him with a firm “sit and stay.” Lucifer obeyed while you left briefly to find a rope that Solomon had enchanted and gifted to you (don’t ask). You tied his hands together and instructed him to try and break free. He failed, much to his visible irritation.

“Solomon really is a talented man,” you chuckled. Lucifer let out a low growl in frustration.

You untied his hands, and he rubbed the mild rope burn from his escape attempt. Now that you had confirmed the strength of the enchantment, you could tie him up properly. With no display of lust of affection for him, you stripped Lucifer until he sat bare at the foot of his bed. You tied his hands behind his back prettily and transition that tie into a harness around his torso before securing the end of the rope to his bedframe with about 4 feet of slack for him to utilize. He couldn’t move far, but he could move.

“Isn’t this suitable: you sitting at the foot of the bed like a dog on a leash?” He looked so pretty with the deep red rope digging gently into his skin and his face flushed pink up to his ears, but Lucifer didn’t deserve to hear how gorgeous he was. “I already know you’re a thirsty little bitch, so I brought you something.”

When you left to retrieve the rope, you brought a few other items of interest, including a shallow bowl and a pastel pink moon milk with an aphrodisiac in it. Asmo had been gifted several cases of it and gave one to you with the (inevitably crushed) hope that it would work on humans. It would, however, work to toy with Lucifer a bit more. You placed the bowl in front of Lucifer and poured the milk in. Lucifer stared at you with the disbelief of someone who knows they are in no position to deny a request: frantic and submissive.

“Must I?” Lucifer questioned you.

“I’ll put a record on for you while you enjoy your drink.”

Lucifer crawled back towards the bed on his knees, so when he bent forward, he was face to face with the bowl. It was as if the tint in his cheeks was reflected in the soft pink surface of the milk. He felt humiliated and had no idea how to proceed and best please you. When Lucifer looked up at you for guidance, your back was turned to him as you perused his cursed album collection in search of the right one. He self-consciously tested lapping at the milk like a kitten before attempting to sip from the flat surface and accidentally dipping his nose in it. Neither was an ideal course of action, but he didn’t know what else to do.

You found what you had been looking for: the album with a deep crimson apple on the cover. Every time that album played, Lucifer became incredibly, uncontrollably horny. You both figured that somewhere along the cloudy history of the album, the magic imbued in the record had turned romance into lust and now served as an audible aphrodisiac. As the first few notes played, Lucifer became aware of what you were planning. He hesitated in his messy drinking, anticipating the overstimulation you would subject him to.

“Ass up,” you commanded as you grabbed the last item of interest. He obeyed, arching his back for you. With no other warning, you placed a pre-lubricated tail plug up his ass. He whimpered and looked over his shoulder to give you a half-angry look, as if reprimanding you for not giving him more notice. “Perfect, a little bitch with his tail between his legs. That went in so easily.”

“I told you I was pent up,” Lucifer remarked with the rough, matter-of-fact edge of a brat.

“Did you?” You teased. “Well, that’s that for now. I have to get ready. I have a date with Solomon planned, and after dealing with you, I only have 20 minutes left.”

“What?” Lucifer shot up. His eyes were wide and pleading, “Don’t leave.”

“I’m not rescheduling for your sake – especially not after the stunts you’ve pulled this week. I should be back at 9pm. That’s two hours from now. You’ll be fine.” You started towards the door.

Lucifer’s jealousy intensified and he tried to break himself free. He crawled towards you until the rope between him and his bed was pulled taut. The rope dug into his skin harshly, but any pain he felt was overshadowed on his face by a pitiful combination of despair and lust. “Please, don’t go. Not to him.”

“Be a good boy while I’m gone.” You ignored his pleas and reached out to pet his head. He savored the feeling of your touch, knowing that it would come to an immediate end. You heard a sniffle and a low groan – simultaneously pained and pleasured – before you shut the door behind you.

Cruelly (at least as far as Lucifer was concerned), you dragged your date with Solomon out so that by the time you entered the House of Lamentation, it was already half-past 9pm. You knew that Lucifer would have kept a keen eye on the clock regardless of how the aphrodisiacs and his innate lust ravaged his senses and control. When you walked into Lucifer’s room, you were pleased with the results of your punishment.

Lucifer looked up at you, his tear-stained face pressed against the floor next to his bowl. Pitiful moans escaped his mouth, low and strained as if they had been fighting their way back down his throat. He didn’t want you to see him like this: desperately grinding against the small bump he had managed to create in the area rug after well over an hour of repeated thrusting against it. His precum dripped and stained the rug, with some of it even dried into his tail plug, but he had failed to get enough friction for release. Despite the dejected look in his eyes and his ragged panting, he mustered up a cutting tone to tell you, “You’re late.”

What he meant was that he missed you, craving your touch in every second that he awaited your return like some despondent pet abandoned at the peak of its need for attention. If he was honest, he’d thank you for coming back and ask you to bring his punishment to an end, but he wasn’t, so you had no problem teasing him a bit further.

“Solomon held me up. That man can’t keep his hands to himself.”

“What?” He had intended to say it harshly, but the single word trembled out of his mouth – more of a whimper than a question. His hips halted their rhythm, his tail slowing from a mild rocking to still. A low growl escaped Lucifer from some deep, enraged pit in his chest whose emptiness you prodded mercilessly. Despite that rabid noise, fresh tears washed down his face along the dried trails as if they wished to make a pristine mess of him. “Why are you being so cruel? I’d rather you whip me all night than break my heart.”

You clicked your tongue at him before walking over. “Up.”

Lucifer followed your command with the lethargy of a defeated man, but you let the speed of his obedience go. He rose to his knees, still as hard as when you’d walked in on him. You wiped the tears off his cheek with a gentle touch, as if he were something fragile, and at that moment, he was – but not so fragile that he couldn’t take a bit more. He shuddered under that miniscule touch, leaning into it affectionately. You licked the tear from your finger and spoke in a honey-sweet voice that underscored your disapproval of him: “you really are so pathetic, Lucifer.”

“I know.”

“Good. Then, I suppose I can untie you, can’t I, my pretty little puppy?” Lucifer gasped softly at the nickname and nodded, slow and uncertain. “Stay perfectly still.”

Lucifer followed your command as you untied him. Even when he was finally free, Lucifer refused to move until you gave him permission. You leaned down towards his neck and before he could question your intentions, you sunk your teeth into his shoulder, biting down until an erotic groan filled the room. When you pulled back, deep marks were indented into his skin that glistened with saliva. You kissed over the mark sweetly, causing Lucifer’s face to turn pink up to his ears. He reacted so well to the smallest sign of affection.

“Now you’ve been marked as my slutty little puppy,” you cooed. “Would you like to cum, pet?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you should do something fitting a puppy. I’ll permit you to hump my leg. Will that be enough?”

“Yes, I think so.” It was pleasant to see him be so uncertain.

You sat at the edge of the bed and beckoned him to your side. Lucifer waited for a reassuring nod before touching you. He thrust himself against your leg slowly, rolling his hips deliberately and moaning like a bitch for you. Every inch of your skin that he could rub himself against was savored, but he still wanted more.

“Could you pet me?” Lucifer asked, uncharacteristically timid, as if you would continue to deny him.

“Greedy boy – marking your scent all over me and still asking for more.” You chastised him, but your hand still wandered down to his head so you could run your fingers through his hair and scratch his scalp affectionately. The small show of adoration intensified his pleasure. Lucifer picked up his pace slightly and the sound of ragged panting weaved into his delicious moans. You could feel him twitching against your leg, and you moved your hand from his hair to under his chin. “Look at me, my pretty little puppy.”

You caught those dark red eyes, softened by pleasure and love and clouded with lust – dangerously beautiful, just seconds before he came. Admittedly, the comfort of staring at your face combined with your touch had pushed him over the edge more than the few thrusts that preceded his cum leaking down your leg.

Lucifer sighed a quiet “thank you” before sinking into a sitting position and resting his head on your knee. You felt a few tears drip onto you, so you stroked his hair and hushed him.

“There’s my good boy,” you hummed. When the tears stopped, you could take a nice, warm shower together, but for now, you just needed to be there and let Lucifer cry. He just needed you to love him again.

Punishment (others)

Belphegor | Barbatos | Asmodeus

A/N: I feel like I went a little feral on this one. I just want to make Lucifer cry and suffer. I'm still sick, and I still have one more fic to do this month, so... really misspelling trial because I'm putting the try in trial. Forgive me if the proofreading isn’t great on this one.

#lucifer #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me #obey me luficer #obey me smut #lucifer smut #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader

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euphoricsunflowers · 2 years

Text

his favorite color is blue - jeon wonwoo

a/n: based on a prompt i sent @pusoatbuwan that she wrote a little bit about. hope you like it starie !!

word count: 3.1k

content: a bit of angst, mostly fluff, mentions of food, college au, non idol au, not proofread lmao

summary: there’s this guy in your history class who is so attractive, but he’s cold and closed off. guess you gotta fix that.

the first time you spoke to jeon wonwoo did not go as well as you intended.

he’s comfortably sitting by himself near the bookshelves at the college’s library and he looks up from his book at the person tapping his shoulder, not exactly annoyed but he thinks he probably looks it, “can i help you?” he asks.

“yeah, actually, i actually really need help with something,” you say, taking the seat next to him without even asking. it’s not like he owns the place but you are kind of in his space for being in a mostly empty library, “you’re in my history 12 class right?”

“i think so,” he says cautiously, closing his book because he’s assuming he’s not going to be able to get back to it for at least a couple minutes.

“do you know how the professor wants us to write this paper? because i swear i have no idea how he wants us to write a paper on reconstruction when the only sources he’s letting us use are completely unrelated. also, have you even done it yet? because it was assigned like a week ago and i haven’t even opened a google doc yet,” you just seem to go on and on, “plus i don’t even take notes in class because he’s just so boring so i barely know what’s going on.”

wonwoo, while now a bit annoyed, tries to not be rude in his response. he feels it in his bones that you’re going to ask to copy his notes and probably plagiarize his paper too, but he doesn’t do that. not for anyone, “i’m sorry,” no he’s not, “but can you ask someone else?”

he sees you visibly deflate, your voice going from bursting with energy to dead and flat in seconds, “oh, uhm, yeah sure. i was just-” you start, but stop yourself, “nevermind. sorry for bothering you, wonwoo.”

he feels this sinking feeling in his stomach like he just made the wrong move. like all his life he had been making choices like a character in a game, and this moment felt like choosing the wrong one. he almost sees a ‘they will remember that’ over your head, as you get your stuff together enough to get up and find a different seat.

“wait,” he says, almost instinctively. he doesn’t even know why he said it, but now you’re looking at him expectantly and he now he has to say something, “what were you gonna say?”

you pause for a moment, debating on whether or not he was worth answering, before chuckling to yourself, “i just wanted to be friends, maybe complain a bit about my overwhelming classes. sorry for bothering.”

you’re looking at him sharply now, as if you could see through his skull and read his every thought like words on paper. you nailed exactly what he was thinking without you even saying it. i wasn’t trying to use you, i just wanted a friend and he almost felt embarrassed, “oh.” was the only thing he said.

you chuckle again before walking off.

he feels his heart pounding in his chest.

—

the second time, it was him who approached.

he figures that he was, indeed, the asshole last time, so when he walks into the library to find you sitting by yourself, ironically reading just like he was, it’s him that sits next to you.

he has no grand introduction, just sitting at the seat next to you as he pulls out his laptop to type his assignment for another class. you pull out an earbud as you notice him, “hey there?” you say awkwardly.

“it was a stupid paper,” he admits, looking over at you, “the sources were completely unrelated and i honestly wrote a good four pages of nonsense.”

it leaves you stunned, but you take the victory where you see it. and you see it just on the corner of his lip. he’s smiling at you.

it makes you smile too, “i can do you one better,” you say, leaning in closer to add some suspense, “i wrote a good five pages of nonsense.”

you sit in a much more comfortable silence than before, working on your own stuff together for a good 30 minutes. he’s typing away on his laptop while you’re reading a book for a class that is so boring that you spend the whole time thinking about him. the really cute guy from your history class. he’s super quiet and a little bit closed off, but somehow you got him coming to you. you turn to look at him, waiting for him to look back, before you say anything.

“i’ve actually gotta get going. i told nayeon i’d meet her for starbucks after her lecture on the different classifications of bones. you know, as like a treat for sitting through something so painful,” you chuckle at your own words.

“yeah, that’s fine,” he says, going back to looking at his computer, “i’ll see you later.”

“actually-” you start to say, catching his attention again, “could i have your phone number? maybe we could plan to meet up next time.”

he doesn’t know why but his heart is pounding the same way it did when you first walked away from him, but this time you’re still here staring into his soul.

he worries his silence is an answer you’ll take as a no, so he remembers to get out of his head, “sure.”

another win for you.

—

the third time, the fourth time, and the fifth time all kind of blend together. maybe it had something to do with they were all in the span of 72 hours, but every it seemed you would text him that you were in the library and he could come sit with you if he wanted. every day, almost like clockwork, he popped into the library maybe 20 minutes after you messaged him, scanning the building for you and taking a seat beside you once he found you. he would either work on his assignments or read his book, while you would do something similar.

it wasn’t until meeting #6 that anything had really happened. of course your conversations were getting less and less awkward as you settled into a pattern of you talking a lot and him talking a little bit until one of you had to go.

this time, though, you had brought something for him, “here,” you said, already rushing to explain before he even had a chance to ask what and why, “you’ve been telling me you’re tired for 3 days straight, or at least agreeing with me when i say it. you like iced americanos, right? i even got you an extra shot.”

he doesn’t say anything but his nod along with the small smile on his face as he sips the straw says he most definitely does like it. he drinks it slowly, so much so that by the time he’s halfway done all the ice had melted; you had been finished with yours for at least 10 minutes at that point. the caffeine hits him after about 20, though, and the energy is really what he needs. he sits there, sipping his coffee, as you casually talk about your classes and the like, as usual.

“oh and i have to fill out this philosophy study guide with some arguments that socrates made. i don’t even know what’s going on and all i know is that socrates just goes around making annoying men feel dumb and i love that for him,” you say.

normally he’d just chuckle and that would be the end of it, but this time he thinks about it more. he takes philosophy, he had to do the argument study guide, in fact, he did it last night. he doesn’t need to do anything about your problem though. there’s plenty of time until it’s due tonight, and unless you ask for it he won’t even mention he’s done it.

“not to mention that i haven’t even been sleeping well, but i mean, does any college student? do you sleep well?” you ask, nodding your head at him to indicate you were asking him specifically if he sleeps well.

and yet he can’t think about himself for a moment. the second you started speaking he noticed all the things that said you haven’t been sleeping well before you did. your quad shot latte, the bags under your eyes, your slouching posture. you looked exhausted, frankly.

so he doesn’t even answer your question, instead saying, “you should go home and take a nap then.”

you just can’t seem to stop laughing at him, like what he’s saying is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard, “were you even listening to me? or are you just in your own little world?”

he caved when he sees that exasperated smile. looking back on it, this was the moment he realized that it would become his job, his responsibility, to care for you if you couldn’t care for yourself.

he pulls the philosophy study guide out of his backpack, handing it to you, “take a picture of it and just copy it down. i can’t memorize them all for you but call me if you’re confused.” he can tell you’re a bit stunned, but eventually cave and take a picture of it, front and back, and then hand it back to him.

“thank you, wonwoo, i really appreciate it. i owe you one.”

no, you don’t owe him anything.

—

the semester ends faster than he wants it to. he’s enjoying meeting up with you at the library a couple times a week, and even though the coffee was a one time thing on your part, he starts to bring stuff for you too. he starts carrying a charger because you complain that your phone is always dying or an extra sweater because they keep it so cold in there. every time he sees that relief and gratitude on your face he feels a sense of inner pride. he’s grown to really love doing all this for you.

especially because his boundaries with letting people copy his homework have been, in all honestly, eroded when it comes to you. even in your classes he doesn’t take, he’s somehow doing your homework for you, disguising it as him being done with his (he’s not he has literally so much to do) and wanting to be helpful somehow.

he never complains though because now you come to the library more refreshed and energized than before and he’s thriving off of seeing you do well. the complaining about stress turns into passionate rants about hobbies and interests, until he feels like he could ace a test about you.

but the semester ends with you going right back to being a stressed disaster as finals overtake your life. he helps where he can, but he’s also overwhelmed and he barely has enough time in the day to stay afloat in his classes.

—

january is cold. it’s also a sad time for him, the seasonal depression hitting him harder when he realizes the happiness of his last semester is coming to a quick end. he hasn’t gotten a text from you in two weeks and it feels like, now that you’ve gotten what you needed out of him, you’ve left him to drown.

he wonders how he could have been so naive to think that you weren’t going to use him. he thinks back with an outsider perspective to your relationship, one of one-sided conversations and history quiz answers. he wonder if you even knew anything about him.

he knows your favorite color, do you know his?

—

“blue,” you said, when he confronted you about his feelings, about feelings invisible and used. he didn’t even mention the favorite color thing. you just knew, “your favorite color is blue,” his eyes soften, and you continue to list things off about him, like they were on a top 10 fun facts list, “you’re afraid of dogs and you don’t like seafood and you like sad music before you go to bed.”

“i never told you those things, how do you know?”

“you say you’re the only one listening, but i’m clearly the only one looking,” you say, “i bring up how i like the color blue, and your smile gives away how you like it too. i recount my childhood dog and the scar i have from him biting my hand and you got pale. i tell you all about this new sushi place i went to that was incredible, and your face told me you were disgusted. i say how i like listening to love songs while i’m winding down before bed, and you nod your head like you do something similar, plus i’ve seen your spotify.”

his heart is aching as he wants to hold your hands and he wants to stop you from talking because god he can’t bare to listen to you pour your heart out like this.

“wonwoo, you’ve always had my attention, i was never just going to up and leave,” he berates himself for even thinking something so preposterous, “i am always grateful for you, i don’t take for granted how graciously you help me, and i have no intentions to sweet talk you into doing my homework for me while i forget about you. i want you to stop thinking like that.”

he supposes he’s truly an idiot.

—

he can tell you’re still a bit shaken by his confrontation, but you still agree to go out for coffee with him. he’s known your order for months now, but he puts less espresso in it than you used to, hoping that you don’t really notice (you do) in hopes that it helps you sleep better (it does).

you made him promise to believe you when you said you valued him as a friend. friend. besides his buddies he had his whole childhood, he doesn’t make many of those.

he keeps his promise. when he looks at you, he believes you. he sees genuine care and love he doesn’t see from anyone else.

this next semester you only share one class, yet he still finds a way to get you homework answers for anything you ask for. he’ll search the whole internet for answer keys or even just straight up do things himself. he’ll drop off lunch for you on days he knows you don’t have time to go get food.

yeah, basically he’s down bad, and only now realizing it.

—

he finds you asleep next to your computer at 9:33pm one random tuesday at some seating outside the library after you left when it closed for the night. he sees that you were about to click submit for an assignment that was due at 11:59, but must have passed out before you could.

he submits it for you, and then packs your back for you, only waking you up when he’s done. those extra seconds of beauty sleep matter, “hey, sleeping beauty. time to go home.” he says.

you groans, standing up and stretch, before slouching and leaning up against him once he stands up too. he gets flustered when you wrap your arms around him and give him the longest hug of his life. he feels like he’s suffocating but in the best way.

“you need to go home and go to bed,” he says, getting another groan from you, “do you want to be carried to your car? i’ll drive you home. we’ll figure out what to do with mine in the morning.”

you nod at everything he says, which is just the cutest thing to him. he picks you up piggyback style and carries you the half-mile walk it is from the library to the parking lot. he spots your car immediately.

he’s driving you home, and you’re practically asleep, but still manage to invite him in. it’s not like he can go anywhere. how are you going to leave in the morning if you didn’t have your car? it makes him think he really could have just taken his to drive you home, but in the moment he wasn’t thinking too well and he really just wanted to get you home and safe.

he crashes on your couch, even after incessant pleading on your part to just sleep in your bed with you, it’s not that weird, it’s the least you could do for him. it’s not that it is weird, but he’s shy and will definitely not get any sleep.

—

you get up in the middle of the night to see him up as well. he was restless and you just wanted some water. you end up talking a little bit, low and quiet voices, as you drink your water.

“can i tell you something?” he asks.

“always,” you say. tell me anything and everything about you, “what is it?”

“im really grateful for you,” he says with his heart on his sleeve. he’s not intoxicated in the slightest but the exhaustion may be having a similar effect on his decision making, “you make my life so much better.”

“how so?” you ask. tell me you love me, please.

“i think i didn’t realize what i was missing out on when i was living my ‘never make any friends’ life, but you make my life so much brighter. i feel so happy and content when i’m with you.”

“i am too,” you say, “i can’t help but adore you every time you rush to try and help me with any problem i have.”

he’s blushing so badly, thank god for the lack of light, “and i can’t help but want to be that person that you rely on to help you. i want to be there bringing you coffee and meals and homework answers every day. i want to do that for you for the rest of our lives.”

say it, he says to himself, say it now.

“i am so badly in love with you,” he says.

he searches for a response in just your eyes, refusing to trust your lips when your verbal replay comes. he sees nothing but adoration in your eyes, and, just like he promised to, he makes himself believe it.

you smile at him, except this one is different. it’s less youthful and less from laughter than before. your smile is so warm and inviting that he feels like he could tell you his deepest secrets without question, that’s how comfortable it makes him.

you press your forehead to his as he smiles back. you whisper, “i’m in love with you too.” it feels like a scream with how powerful it is, but it was nothing more than a whisper, “stay with me forever.”

you already know the answer.

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen x reader #yes i am now a carat #love wonu tho he’s literally so cute and for what #crying in the club

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pumpk1n-writes · 1 year

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Tell Me About The Dark Places You Hide ~ Part Five

➥ in which the reader figures out that their best friends are the infamous Woodsboro Killers and decides to help them rather than turn them in. {ft. Mentions of murder; language; stalking; mentions of the stuff in part four; Billy being an idiot and Stu being an even bigger idiot}

Part Four; Part Six || Word Count ~ 806

Taglist ~ @wasawattpadkid @itzlovelyautumn @katie-tibo @laurajmcmanus

A/N: So… I don’t usually do these lol 😅 but I’m really proud of some of the emotions in this chapter and some of the writing techniques I used in this one are a teensy bit different from what I normally use, so let me know if you like it better than normal or not! I’m just experimenting here!

You were right. School the next day was awkward. But not for you. You couldn’t help the small smile that broke through your mask every time Billy made eye contact with you and flushed a deep red. You caught up to him after class, ignoring the blush dusting his cheeks, and began talking. “I really thought you’d be a better actor, Loomis. You know, considering everything.”

Billy glared at you. He was confused at why you seemed so nonchalant, despite everything that had happened the night before. “What?” Smooth, Billy. Smooth.

“Well, you’re blushing like a madman every time you look at me, which is a lot, considering you can’t stop your eyes from wandering. To me.”

Goddamnit. Billy scowled, which made you laugh. “You really should get better at hiding what you’re thinking, Loomis.” You patted his cheek and walked away, quickly disappearing into the crowd of other seniors. He watched your retreating form as if he was in a trance, unconsciously reaching up to feel where you touched him. He shook his head to snap himself out of it, walking briskly to his fountain.

Goddamnit! He thought once more, seeing that you were already there, talking animatedly to Stu. Billy pulled his best friend away, glaring at your knowing smile. You merely turned around as if nothing happened, however, and began talking to Sidney.

“Stu, I fucked up,” Billy started, running his hand through his hair and gesturing to you.

“Whatever do you mean?” Stu asked in a horrible British accent. “You found one of the hottest people in our school, and got her to hang out with us.”

“So. . .” Billy glanced around. “I may have visited her last night.”

Stu’s jaw dropped. “You what? As. . .?”

“Yeah,” Stu didn’t even need to finish before Billy was interrupting. “Yeah, and somehow, she didn’t die—”

“Obviously.”

“I wasn’t finished, asshole,” Billy was getting more frustrated as this conversation went on. “She may have. . .”

“What? Spit it out,” it was obvious that Stu was also getting frustrated at Billy’s hesitation to finish his thought. “What, did she fuck you or something?”

Billy’s silence told him everything he needed to know.

“No, what? Without me?” Stu gasped in mock hurt. “Why do you get to hog all the action?”

“That’s not all, Stuart! She knows who we are.”

At this point, they’d both walked a ways away from the rest of the group, so they didn’t grow suspicious of Billy’s frantic whispering. The guilt and shame of last night had settled deep between his shoulder blades, but now the panic of you having access to this, the biggest secret of his life, was wriggling it’s way into the deep cavities of his chest.

He wanted to hate you, wished he could will his mind to forget your voice in his ear as he came undone, low and sultry and utterly perfect. He wished he could throw aside the image of your body above him, forget how nice it felt to lose control for once. But no. How easy it was for his mind to wander to the recent fantasy of bending you over a table and making you feel as good as you made him. How easy it was to imagine how delicate you would feel under his fingers.

“We could do our thing?” Stu suggested. “Or kidnap her.”

“Shut up!” Billy glanced around, hoping the strange glances from around them were due to his muted panic attack and not Stu basically incriminating them. “She said that she wanted to help us.”

“Well, how about this. We both visit her tonight, not as you-know-who, just ourselves, and discuss how this will work. Cause we need to get rid of her if we get bad vibes and think she’s gonna turn us in, but maybe we need someone else.”

Billy shook his head and rubbed his temple. “I don’t know, Stu. I don’t want to be anywhere near her after what happened.”

“You mean after she fucked you senseless? What really happened back there? Cause every time you look at her you blush. Sid’s gonna catch on and our entire plan is ruined.”

“So she may have, like, tied me up, or something. And I might have been slightly into it.”

“Ooh, Bill-Bill’s got a bondage kink!” Stu looked delighted. “Did you actually fuck or?”

“No she just, kind of, gave me a handjob and I left. Can we move on?”

Billy was blushing again and Stu seemed to revel in that. “So it’s settled. You’re coming with me tonight and we can hope that we both get action.”

“No!”

Stu shook his head at Billy’s protests, just patting his cheek the same way you did and left to rejoin the group. Billy was left to glare towards your general location and reluctantly rejoin you.

Goddamnit.

#billy loomis scream #scream #scream 1996 #scream 1996 smut #scream smut #poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface smut #poly!ghostface x reader

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runningfrom2am · 1 year

Text

getaway car (r.c)

summary: You and Rafe, who are alike in more ways than you think, get kicked out of class together.

pairing: rafe x reader

wc: 1.8k

tags/warnings: mean!kook!reader, bullying i guess?, highschool!au, swearing

requests

nav/masterlists

This particular morning, something in the cool morning breeze woke you up at four am. Wide awake. By the time you paced into your English classroom at 8:01, your uniform perfectly fit (besides the rolled-up waistband on your skirt that had previously landed at a horribly unflattering place above your knees) and an iced coffee in hand, you’d already had enough of the day.

You’d spent the first hour of your day in an everything shower and doing your makeup just the way you liked, all for one boy in hopes you could pass him in the hall and grab his attention. Who was absolutely not Rafe Cameron.

“Oh wow, Y/N- are those fake eyelashes?” The always annoying, better-than-thou attitude having girl who sits in front of you, Ally, asks as you approach your desk.

“Obviously. Same ones I wear everyday.” You reply sarcastically, slamming your stuff down on your desk so it yanks on her hair that she has placed on it. “Dumb bitch.” You mutter under your breath, earning a chuckle from the boys sitting next to you and the seat behind that one- Kelce and Rafe.

“Y/N, let me see!” Your friend who sits behind you says, tapping on your shoulder. You smile as you turn around, avoiding eye contact with either of the boys who were laughing at your comment a moment earlier.

“Oh they’re lovely! They look so soft too! What brand are they?” Bella asks, smiling genuinely and ignoring the scoff the girl in front of you lets out. Bella is the friends with everyone, sickeningly sweet girl, who’s been your best friend since you met at soccer tryouts in freshman year. She had stepped on your toe in her cleats, and stopped the drill to insist you step on her foot back so you were even because she felt so guilty. Obviously, you refused and laughed it off. Everyone loves her- and she’s kind to everyone, no matter what. You don’t know why she’s friends with you, but you balance each other out beautifully.

“Juvias Place.” You reply, fluttering your lashes at her and resting your hand under your chin. “They’re my fave- I’m probably on my eighth pair. And! And they’re like fifteen bucks! Isn’t that crazy?” You grin, letting go of the clearly negative comment the girl in front of you was making.

“Oh wow- yeah that’s crazy.” Rafe cuts in sarcastically and you shoot him a glare.

“Right?” Bella giggles, clearly not getting that he was making fun of you guys. “That’s a really good deal!” She smiles at him, which he returns with a nod, flipping his expression once her eyes land on him. Rafe had always liked Bella as well. He was making fun of her, yes, but he didn’t have the heart to let her know that if she didn’t pick up on the social cues. She just sees the best in everyone all the time, in the way that he doesn’t, and you also don’t.

Sometimes it frustrates you, the way he waves at her in the halls or shouts her name across the field when either of our teams are practicing, (not because you like him or anything, gross) because you know he either A. is making fun of her or B. has bad intentions, which you doubt because he’s never laid a hand on her- as much of an asshole as he is.

You just hate the idea of anyone taking advantage of her kindness. And it’s not like you’re a particularly mean person, but with Bella around, you try and fill that role to protect her. You’re scared that one day she’ll need it, and you’re not afraid to throw hands with anyone who does her wrong.

Class starts and it’s clear that the teacher doesn’t feel like talking this morning, because she just says to discuss the readings in partners that you got to pick yourselves. You instantly turn in your seat to face Bella’s desk, crossing your legs on the chair. “Yay! Okay, we were meant to read chapters 5-10 for today…” Bella starts, pulling the novel from her bag and opening it up.

“Mind giving me the run down? After practice last night I was swamped.” You say, smiling at her hopefully.

“Oh, yeah! For sure.” Bella nods. “First though- down to business, I saw you talking to Quinton this morning.” She whispers, leaning closer.

“Oh, yeah, I brought him coffee.” You shrug and she rolls her eyes at you.

“Okay, duh! Tell me why, tell me everything, did he text you and ask? Or did you text him and offer? Because those are very different. And was it snap? Or did he use your number?” Bella bombs you with questions.

You roll your eyes and shake your head, smiling at her fondly. “Okay, he texted me, number, not snap, and then I offered because I was driving Vanessa and we were stopping for coffee anyways.”

“Number! This is big.” She smiles excitedly, nudging your shoulder. “Next thing you know, he’ll be down on one knee and we’ll be planning your wedding!”

Rafe is glaring over at the two of you, eyes locked onto those fake lashes that he must admit, do look very soft. He rolls his eyes in an effort to get himself to focus on the task at hand, discussing readings he also didn’t do. He couldn’t focus very long considering his partner was fully ignoring him, on his phone still facing the front of the room.

Why do you even like Quinton anyways? That guy’s an idiot- Rafe knows him well, and he knows that besides being a half decent defenseman, Quin is nothing special and is actually known to cheat on his past girlfriends. Why would you waste your time around a douchebag like that?

“Dude- would you stop?” Kelce groans, turning to look at Rafe who is repeatedly punching his back, which started with one hit to get his attention, but continued as his mind wandered and he needed to vent his frustrations.

“No, fuck off. You’re so annoying.” Rafe mumbles, continuing to hit his friend in the back.

“Rafe- for fucks sake, leave him alone.” Your voice distracts him and he stops, shocked that you got involved.

“Why’s it matter to you? Kelce was pissing me off.” Rafe defends, looking at you as you raise your eyebrow at him.

“I literally did not do anything!”

“Exactly- we’re doing group work.”

“Well neither of us read it so what will we talk about?” Kelce says, turning in his seat and trying to rub the aching out of his back.

“Believe it or not, you punching the crap out of your friend because you need endless amounts of attention can be distracting to others.” You say, impulsively reaching back and pulling Rafe’s binder from his desk. It’s always bothered you that he left the sheet that it came with in the front, a flimsy piece of plastic sheet with large graphic letters saying the binders brand and how many sheets of paper it can hold.

“Hey!” Rafe spits, reaching out for it as you pull the plastic sheet out, crumpling it up and throwing it back at him before putting handing his binder back.

“That was bothering me.” You say, and he snatches the binder out of your hands.

“I liked it there.” He mumbles, fully pouting now.

“It did look stupid.” Kelce agrees with you, making Rafe smack the back of his head.

“Rafe, c’mon.” Bella shakes her head at him, hardly looking up from the book.

“Maybe you drooling over Quinton is distracting, have you ever considered that?” Rafe says to you, ignoring her at this point.

“That’s your business how?”

“Oh my god, Y/N, would you shut up for like four seconds? Jesus Christ, you are a walking nightmare!” Ally hisses, turning and smacking her hands on your desk, making you jump.

“That’s actually truly funny coming from you, Ally. Your hair looks like a crows nest and you fucking smell like you haven’t washed your uniform in months. Personally, I’d watch my mouth if I was you.” You spit back, crossing your arms and sitting back in your seat.

Kelce and Bella simultaneously smack a hand over their mouths, trying to stifle their laughter. Rafe makes no such attempts, laughing and nodding, reaching out and gently shoving your shoulder.

“Shut up, Rafe. You’re just mad because I don’t kiss the ground you walk on.” Ally snaps, turning around again to face the front.

“True.” He says, coming down from his laughing fit. “I just kind of think it’s weird, though, that you make fun of Y/N’s makeup when you’re not even pretty to begin with. At least she doesn’t need it.” Rafe says, throwing the balled-up paper you just tossed at him at the back of her head.

You avoid eye contact with him as your cheeks burn from the implications of his comment.

You watch as Ally sniffles, her hand shooting up into the air. “Miss! Y/N and Rafe are calling me ugly!” She shouts out, grabbing the teachers attention when she doesn’t immediately see her hand.

You both simultaneously groan as everyone turns to look at you, the teacher standing up from her desk and pointing towards the door. “You two! Office. Go!”

“I’ll get some notes for you.” Bella whispers as you stand, shoving your books into your bag.

“Thanks, Bells.” You smile sadly at her. Rafe brushes past you as he moves to the door, past Ally’s desk as she looks at him smugly. You follow a few moments behind, stopping at the door as she watches you, pretending to look down and spit into your hand before flipping her off.

“Miss Y/L/N, out. Now!” The teacher urges you out, and you roll your eyes as you step out, adjusting the weight of your backpack on your shoulder with your coffee in your other hand.

You didn’t expect to see Rafe waiting for you, but it makes you smile anyways. Despite your bickering, you are decently good friends. You run in some of the same circles, and honestly you think you have a lot in common. Not that you hangout very much.

“So.” Rafe says, draping an arm over your shoulders. “Are we actually going to the office?”

“Fuck no.” You giggle, shaking your head. “Well, I’m not.”

“Thank god. Me neither.” Rafe laughs as you make your way down the hallway in the direction of the exit to the parking lot. “Are you hungry? We could go get something to eat.”

“Sure. Why not.” You agree, smiling up at him as he pushes the door open for you. “I’ll drive. I’m not getting on that rolling death trap you call a bike.”

“Whatever you say, Sweetheart.” He chuckles, following you toward your car.

part two

A/N: i hammered this out this morning and i think it's just so cute

taglist: @slut4drudy , @madelynie , @mutual-mendes , @sadfury (i just tagged some mutuals who like my other stuff so if you want to be added or removed lmk!!)

reblogs and feedback are very appreciated as always :)

#rafe cameron #obx fanfic #obx #outer banks #rafe obx #rafe cameron x oc #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #rafe x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe x y/n

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