#(- I’m worried about that. I think English is incredibly fucking stupid as a class. I cannot Wait until college. this is such a period of-)

[buysomecheese]

Fellas, tell me-

Is it very ESTJ, 6w5, 269 tritype of me to kin Upside Down & Inside Out (OK Go), Humpty Dumpty (AJR), Belonger (Maxton Waller), It’s Called: Freefall (Rainbow Kitten Surprise), Northern Attitude (Noah Kahan), All’s Well That Ends (Rainbow Kitten Surprise), Upside Down (Jack Johnson), I Won’t Let You Down (OK Go), Real Men (Mitski),? Is it?

#anyways if you know anything about enneagrams or grottoes or mbti please. tell me about myself (/nf) #(/nf) #the rest of my tags are venting feel free to ignore those #I’m not going through anything rn #I’m feeling totally fine #(I want to Punch some Certain People in the ducking stomach) #(I haven’t had a menstrual cycle in Months and I’ve been literally feeling entirely fine and I’m healthier than ever otherwise so-) #(- I’m worried about that. I think English is incredibly fucking stupid as a class. I cannot Wait until college. this is such a period of-) #(- growth and change for me. I’m getting a job. I might ask someone out. I still can’t drive and I’m upset about that. I know who I want-) #(- be friends with now. things are coming together and I am weeding out things that are bad for me. I’m so derealized half of the time and-) #(- it contradicts with everything else going on so strongly. I wish people would own up to their faults and not take on more than they can-) #(- handle. I have so much confidence in myself and my abilities but I don’t think I’m worth anything. I know what I deserve but that’s-) #(- the bare minimum and nothing more. I know that if I Left today I’d believe that everyone would love on within the week but I also know-) #(- there are people and organizations that would Not work the same or nearly as smoothly as they do now. I don’t know what to do with-) #(- myself but I have Everything planned out. maybe I just need to work out and be active idk I’ve been in a car all day.) #estj #6w5 #269 tritype #what is a #tritype

[needcake]

day 5: lost

Engport | PG | 1,4k

@engportevents

.

.

“Oh, there you are.”

Arthur turned his head around and grunted, giving his back to Gabriel as he came up the stairs of the bell tower. “What do you want?”

“I was looking for you and Toninho told me about your bet,” Gabriel said, standing at the top of the stairs with his hands on his hips, frowning at Arthur as he stood under the bell with his arm outstretched upwards holding the rope to the clapper. “You know that if that thing falls down you’re probably going to die right? Just a splatter of goo and blood and—”

“You know what, Gabe? If you just came here to remind me of our inescapable mortality, you can save it for Professor Pullmann’s class.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes at him, produced a plastic water bottle from his coat. “Oh, so you don’t want this, then?”

He looked from his friend to the bottle, back to Gabriel’s stupid smug face. His throat was a little itchy.

“Fine,” he grumbled, “You’re going to have to bring it here, though, I can’t let go of this thing.”

“Oh, yes,” Gabriel intoned, stepping forward under the bell’s mouth glancing warily upwards as he did, the sound of his sarcastic tone amplified under the bell’s brass body. “Toninho told me about the rules. You two are so smart, so clever. This is such a good idea.”

“Ha ha,” he said, eying the water bottle in Gabriel’s hands. “You’re going to have to open that.”

“Isn’t there a word in the English vocabulary that means ‘do this for me and I will me forever grateful’?” Gabriel wondered out loud, unscrewing the top. Arthur shoved him for the jibe, but he just laughed like the asshole that he was. “Do you want me to pour water into your mouth like a baby bird?”

He shoved him again and almost touched the clapper to the lip of the bell above them, both of them dropping the act and looking up in alarm.

“Just give me that fucking water,” Arthur mumbled, taking the opened bottle from Gabriel’s slack fingers.

Gabriel’s eyes were pinched with worry as he looked up at the inside of the bell, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“We’re not going to die, Gabe,” he said, and Gabriel let out a nervous chuckle, eyes still drawn upwards and around them. “The bell has been here for over a hundred years. It’s not going to fall on our heads tonight.”

“Maybe,” Gabriel conceded, but still seemed doubtful, looking around them a little anxiously. “Why don’t you just let that thing go so we can go back to the dorm? Forget this stupid bet.”

“No,” he bit back, taking another sip of water.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Arthur smirked behind the bottle, kicking the air in his direction.

“No. Stop tempting me, you temptress. Step back if you’re so scared.”

“I’m not scared,” he emphasized, scoffing at him when Arthur raised a single eyebrow. “I just think this is incredibly stupid even for the two of you.” He stepped back and leaned on one of the pillars, crossing his arms over his chest. “What are you going to use the money for anyway? Your parents are rich, it’s not like you need it.”

Arthur shrugged. “It’s not about the money.”

“Really,” Gabriel deadpanned and he smirked.

“It’s not. It’s about proving your cunt of a brother wrong.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, hugged his coat tighter around his body. “Well, if Professor Bhatti finds out about this you’ll both be wrong. And expelled.”

“What do you mean both of us? You’re in it too now,” he said and Gabriel opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent when Arthur raised his eyebrows at him matter-of-factly. Gabriel closed his mouth with an annoyed pout and looked at the University lawn around them, irritated. Arthur always thought he looked specially pretty when he was angry.

He changed the hand holding the clapper’s rope and rolled his fatigued shoulder. Antonio had dared him to stay in the bell tower holding that rope all night and was willing to bet a hundred pounds on it. Easiest money Arthur had ever made.

He was about to take another sip from the bottle when he eyed the water level inside. With three quarters gone, soon he would have a new problem in his hands. Or in his pants.

“Hey, Gabe.”

Gabriel humpf’ed, arms still crossed over his chest.

“What was that story you told me again? The one where you visited your cousin in Morocco?”

Gabriel scowled at the distance. “I already told you that story, why are you—”

When he turned his eyes to Arthur, Arthur looked desperately down at his crotch, the nearly empty water bottle still in his hand. Realization slowly bloomed on Gabriel’s face.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, no fucking kidding oh, tell your story, come on,” Arthur pleaded, twisting his legs in a little awkward dance. Gabriel stifled a laugh and Arthur threw the bottle at him as hard as he could. “Don’t laugh!”

“Ow, ok, ok, I won’t. I was… sorry,” Gabriel had to breath deeply in to stop himself from chuckling. After he regained his composure he started again, eyes closed not to look at Arthur. “I was eight, my parents took us to Marrakesh and there was this beautiful fountain…”

“No, tell me another one,” Arthur ordered with a bark, hopping from foot to foot where he stood, trying desperately to think of anything to distract him from the problem at hand.

Gabriel still wouldn’t open his eyes, frantically shaking his hands to remember other stories. “There was ahm, the time when Toninho farted in the pool!”

“Don’t you have any non-water related stories?!” Arthur barked at him and Gabriel almost laughed, but clamped a hand over his mouth just in time.

“There was the time when we first kissed!”

Arthur stopped hopping, breathing deeply as the need to pee subsided. Gabriel blinked his eyes open, letting out air through his mouth.

“We were skipping class in the woods,” Arthur remembered, his breath coming out quicker for an entirely different reason.

Gabriel’s cheeks flushed bright pink under the moonlight, he hugged his coat around himself coyly. “You asked if I wanted to go for a walk. I had been wanting an excuse to have some time alone with you for a while.”

“Could have just done it in our room,” Arthur said quietly, heart skipping a beat when Gabriel tucked a loose strand of hair that had slipped from his ponytail behind his ear.

“Well…” Gabriel drawled, smiled, eyes darting around them. “We sort of did it in our room after.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at him, but he was smiling too. “You were being very loud.”

Gabriel scoffed at him, stepping closer, coming under the bell without fear of it coming down on their heads anymore. “I was being loud? You screamed when you came.”

He reached his free hand to grab him by the coat and pulled him closer. “You made me scream.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and shook his head, taking him by the cheeks and tilting his head up. “Remember when Toninho came knocking on our door wanting to know what was going on? He was so red I thought his head was going to explode.”

He chuckled against his lips, wrapping his arm around Gabriel’s warm waist under his coat, his nose touching his.

“Keep talking,” he whispered, eyes closing shut.

Gabriel kissed him and chuckled, “Isn’t there a word in the English vocabulary—”

“Please.”

-

It was half-past nine when Arthur woke up with the sound of Gabriel’s cellphone chirping away on their shared nightstand. Gabriel himself was tucked sleepily into his side, face pressed to his clavicle and bare legs tangled with his own under the sheets.

He blindly searched for the phone, blinking bleary at the screen and entering Gabriel’s password.

Toninho :: 09:32

Hey, Gabi, can I borrow £100?

Toninho :: 09:33

Also wtf why did you tell my pool story to your stupid boyfriend?

Toninho :: 09:33

I was 4!!

Arthur snorted softly to himself and closed the screen, still grinning when he put the phone back on the nightstand.

“What?” Gabriel asked, voice hoarse and slow, blinking one eye at him in question.

“I won,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to his temple.

Gabriel humpf’ed into his collar. “Yeah, and you also peed your pants.”

“Shut up, I still won.”

.

.

#engportweekevent #engportweek #engport #hws england #hws portugal #hetalia #a wild fic appears #a strayed far from the prompt forgive me

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART TWO

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo.

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

AN: I am so fuckin soft for college Kook you wouldn’t even belieeeeeve

Within days of their ‘truce’, Jungkook realises what a huge dickhead he truly is for not remembering Y/N’s name.

She shares his timetable almost entirely.

“I’m the worst.” He bemoans after a particularly stressful lecture on American poetry, “You weren’t kidding when you said you were in all my classes.”

“Almost all your classes.” She laughs a little at the look on his face and shrugs, “I did tell you.”

“It makes perfect sense now why you hate me.”

Y/N nudges him playfully and shakes her head, “I don’t hate you.” “Yes you do.”  He sniffles dramatically, “And you should.  I’m an asshole.”

She pulls a face, “Now what am I meant to do here?  Tell you that you’re not an asshole?  That would be lying.” Jungkook reaches for his heart theatrically and frowns.

“I deserve that.”

She scoffs playfully, “Shut up, Jungkook.”

It’s been exactly four days since Jungkook and Y/N began to hatch their plan to try and get their respective soulmates to fall in love with them.

And though Y/N’s original idea was to host some kind of movie night at her apartment Jungkook has been slowly persuading her into throwing a full blown party.  Park Jimin is an absolute animal, Jungkook promises her (that’s a huge stretch, but what college student doesn’t like alcohol and loud music?) and throwing a party is a surefire way to get him to agree to coming. 

But Y/N isn’t so easily swayed.

“I’m going to make it up to you,” Jungkook tells her confidently, “I’m going to make sure that you and Jimin get together, and then when you have beautiful babies together you’ll be thanking me.  And we’ll forget all about the incredibly unfortunate way we met each other.” Y/N’s smile is soft, but Jungkook sees it.

“I know you will,” She says, “I have faith in your matchmaking abilities, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Which reminds me….Did you think about what I said, Y/N?”  

Jungkook has to admit - he really likes having her around.  Try as he might at first to have seen the worst in her, he has to admit Y/N’s not half bad. 

“About the party?” 

He winks, “Bingo!” 

“It’s a bad idea.”

“Oh my god-” 

“No, because I’m such a wallflower,” She insists, shaking her head firmly, “Jimin will just think I’m boring.”

“I’ll help you come out of your shell.  I’ve told you that already.  It will be like a life lesson for you - a chance to shine in the spotlight.” 

“I don’t shine,” Y/N is whining now, “It’s stupid to even try.”

“No it’s not,” Jungkook insists, “Everybody shines.  In their  own way.  Everybody.” He feels kind of awful for her. 

How can she even think that way about herself?

“You don’t - it’s not.  C’mon Jungkook I can’t-”

“What about the night we met?”  Jungkook interrupts, as the two round the corner of Jungkook’s street, “You were partying then, weren’t you?  You were shining then?” She flushes, “That’s different.”

“How?” She shuts her eyes for a moment.  Jungkook worries he might have pushed her too far.  He slips his bottom lip between his teeth and just as he opens his mouth to apologise she sighs heavily.

“It’s stupid.”

He brushes a hand over her shoulder, “It’s not.”

Her eyes open and he’s taken aback by the softness there. 

He wants to reach out and maybe pat her cheek but he decides against it.  Fuckboy or not, Jungkook is not the kind of guy to do that.  Is he?  No.  He isn’t.

Besides.  Soomi.

“Okay.  Okay.  I’ll throw the damn party.  But you’re helping me with everything, okay?”

Jungkook feels something like electricity shoot up his ass.  (He won’t ever tell anyone else he thought that.) 

“Yes!  This is going to be perfect Y/N I swear.  Jimin will love it.  So will you,” He grins like he’s hit the jackpot, “It’s the last day of semester in three weeks time.  We’ll use that as a reason okay?  And we’ll plan everything together.  It will be amazing.” Y/N’s eyes dart across Jungkook’s face nervously. 

She seems to be looking for something - what he’s not sure - but after a moment she nods.

“Fine.  Okay.  End of semester,”  Her lips fall into a small smile, “Do you think this will work?”

They stop at the entrance of Jungkook’s building.

“It’s perfect Y/N.  I swear.  Just perfect.”

When her smile widens Jungkook thinks he’s never seen her look better.

“I’m trusting you Jungkook.”  She narrows her eyes playfully, “Don’t fuck it up.”

He crosses his index finger across his chest and nods determinedly.

“Trust me, Y/N.  We’ll have Park Jimin eating out of your hand before you know it.”

And he really believes it, too.

//

The next day Jungkook runs into Y/N at lunchtime.  He hasn’t seen her in any of his classes today and when he texts her to tell her this, she reminds him that Friday is the only day they don’t share a timetable.

He has to admit he’s kind of bummed.  

So when he finds himself wandering into the campus garden with Hoseok trailing less than enthusiastically behind him, his eyes zero in on her immediately.

She’s eating some kind of burrito - probably extra spicy as she’s told him that’s the only way to eat Mexican food - and reading a book.  Of course she’s reading a book.

Nerd.

“Hey Hobi let’s go sit over there.”  He points her out to his friend and Hoseok raises a brow.

“Who’s that?” “Y/N.”

“Y/N?”  His brow raises even higher if possible, “Y/N as in the girl you slept with who’s name you can’t remember and who’s roommate you are in love with?  And who you’ve promised to help set up with Park Jimin?  That Y/N.” Jungkook frowns, “Well when you say it like that…” He rolls his eyes, “Shut up.  Let’s just go.” Hoseok shrugs and follows his friend - what good will it do him to argue anyway? - and when Jungkook reaches his destination he clears his throat noisily.  Y/N looks up and Jungkook notices she’s wearing a pair of thick-framed glasses.  He has to admit… She looks kind of adorable in them.

The moment recognition dawns on her face, Y/N’s lips lift.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s smile widens when she grins up at him.

“Hi.”  She shifts slightly, “What are you uh - doing here?” “Stalking you obviously,” Jungkook takes a seat beside her on the blanket she’s set up to eat on, and gestures for Hoseok to do the same, “This is my friend Hoseok.  The one I said dances with your boyfriend.” She wrinkles her nose and flushes, “Jungkook!  He’s not my boyfriend.”  She turns to Hoseok and smiles softly, “Hi.” 

Hoseok - to his credit - doesn’t seem to mind the Jimin comment.  He smiles back at her.

“Hi Y/N.”

Jungkook unwraps the dismal lunch he’s made himself - a sweetcorn and tuna salad - and gestures to the book sitting in Y/N’s lap.

“What’s that?”

She looks down and then up, “Oh.  It’s uh - god.  It’s stupid.” Jungkook quirks a brow, “C’mon tell me.  What is it.” She hesitates for a second and then rolls her eyes, seemingly accepting her fate.

Jungkook almost wants to remind her that they’re friends - she shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of him - but he stays quiet. 

She lifts the book to show him the cover.

“It’s a book on gaining confidence.”  Her shoulders shrug, “I thought it might help.  Y’know…  With the whole…” Her eyes flit over to Hoseok briefly, “Jimin thing.”

Hoseok chuckles and it catches Jungkook off guard.

He’d almost forgotten his friend was there.

“That’s adorable,” Hoseok comments, “Man if a girl did that for me I’d be beyond flattered.” Y/N’s cheeks flush and she shakes her head, “No - I mean.  I don’t know.  It’s not just for him…”

“Still.” She bites her bottom lip and shrugs, “I mean I guess.  Yeah.  He should be flattered.” Hoseok laughs again and Jungkook has a sneaking suspicion his friend might be flirting.

He doesn’t like that.

Y/N is not for Hoseok.  Not at all.

“Well she’s not reading the book for you,” Jungkook tells him, trying to control his anger, “She’s reading it for Jimin.” Hoseok raises a brow.  He takes a moment and then smiles again.

“I gathered.”

Jungkook spends the rest of the lunch break trying to stop whatever weird energy Hoseok and Y/N have going on.

There is absolutely no way in hell that Jung Hoseok thinks he can just swoop in and ruin all his plans, right?  Y/N needs to fall in love with Jimin. Park Jimin needs to be the one laughing with her and smiling at her and flirting with her.

He’s absolutely livid by the time Y/N scurries off to class.

“What the fuck was that?” Hoseok pulls a face, “What?”

“That.  That… Flirting.  What was that?”  Jungkook has barely even touched his lunch (and it’s got nothing to do with the absolute miserable state of it, he swears.) 

Hoseok seems confused for only a moment later.  Then his face opens up.

“Oh, right.”  He shakes his head, “I wasn’t flirting, Jungkook.” Jungkook hates the look on his friend’s face.  Like he knows something Jungkook doesn’t.

“What’s that look for Hoseok?” Hobi chuckles and shakes his head, “Nothing Jungkook.  Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook spends the rest of the day thinking about that godforsaken look.

//

Jungkook wakes up the next morning (which thank god happens to be a Saturday,) to a text message from Y/N.  He’s been trying to convince her to use more emojis - but she refuses.

Secretly, he finds her texting kind of cute.

But he’ll never tell her that.

Y/N: Are you free today?

Jungkook: as a bird.  what did you have in mind?? :) 

Y/N: It’s my birthday.  Soomi is taking me out bowling.  Wanna come?

Jungkook feels his heart swim all the way up to his throat.

Soomi?  And wait what - it’s Y/N’s birthday? He’s sort of offended she only brought it up now.

Jungkook: uhhh… what?? happy fuckin birthday y/n!!! ur naughty!!! birthday ??? why didnt you tell me yesterday??? 

Y/N: You’re an English Lit student.  Use proper vocabulary and grammar please.  And I don’t know I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Jungkook: u cant change me boo… u just text like a granny.  its your birthday stupid ofc its a big deal.  mind if i invite some of my friends??

It’s a few minutes before Y/N finally replies. 

Y/N: Yeah.  Sure.  Meet us at Blue Pins in an hour?

Jungkook: c u there… birthday girl!!!!!

Y/N: Ugh.

Jungkook smiles at the way she still acts like she hates him even though he knows she doesn’t really.

It really is the start of a beautiful friendship.

//

An hour later Jungkook finds himself sat in a booth with Hoseok, Taehyung and Namjoon, nervously tapping his fingers against the surface of the table.

Hoseok clicks his tongue loudly and grabs his friend's hand from across the booth.  His eyes are narrowed a little.

“Will you calm down?” “Are you kidding?” Jungkook’s eyes are as wide as a pair of saucers, “I’m about to meet the woman I’m going to marry.”

Hoseok scoffs at that and Taehyung scrolls through his phone, bored as always.  

After a moment, Taehyung clears his throat, “He said yes.” 

Jungkook feels like his heart has just fallen out of his asshole.

“What?”

“Jimin said yes,” Taehyung rolls his eyes, almost as if he’s annoyed at this spectacular outcome, “He’ll come to Y/N’s party at the end of the semester..”

“Oh fuck YES!” Jungkook fist pumps the air in joy as Hoseok chuckles in delight.

“You’re overreacting,” Namjoon tells his friend seriously, “Jimin coming does not equal Jimin falling in love with Y/N.”

“It gets me one step closer though,” Jungkook feels lighter already, “And one step closer to that means one step closer to Soomi falling in love with me.”

Namjoon snorts out a laugh, “Stop it.”

“What?” Jungkook takes a swig from the cappuccino he insisted on ordering as soon as they arrived, “It’s true.”

“You’re not seriously thinking you’re in love with this girl Jungkook?”  Hoseok’s eyes dance with mirth, “I know you man.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok raises a dubious brow, “You’re the ultimate fuckboy.”

“I am not.”

“Yes.  You are.”  Taehyung tacks on helpfully, “Notoriously so, actually.”

“Shut up.” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to admit it but he knows his friends are kind of right.  Sue him - he’s young and handsome and he’s in college.  Everybody fucks around in college.

“And anyway I don’t actively pursue girls unless I have the intention of taking it somewhere.”  Jungkook crosses his arms, “A fuckboy I may be, but a dickhead I am not.”

“Says the guy who forgot Y/N’s name after a vigorous night of lovemaking.”  Namjoon grins like the cat who got the cream and Jungkook wants to smack him.

“You can thank your dear friend Kim Taehyung for that.”  Jungkook replies sharply, narrowing his eyes at his so-called childhood best friend.

Taehyung gasps like he can’t believe what Jungkook’s just said.

“Seven tequilas on an empty stomach is never a good idea Tae,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You kept insisting.”

Taehyung answers with a flippant wave of his hand, eyes finally moving away from his phone, “Whatever.  You’re an adult, right?  You could’ve said no.”

“Not when free alcohol is involved.” “Anyway Kookie, the point is you can’t be in love.”  Hoseok leans back like he’s just discovered the meaning to life.  Always so smug.

Jungkook can’t help but find it a little annoying.

“And how, oh wise one, are you coming to this conclusion?” Jungkook’s tone is dripping with sarcasm.  He raises a brow at his friend and gives him the most pointed look he can manage.

It’s still Hoseok and Jungkook has to admit he respects his opinion the most.

“Because you’re you.  And you barely know this girl.”  Hoseok rolls his eyes, “That’s how.”

“I find that offensive,” Jungkook retorts, “People are allowed to change and grow.  Now I’ve met Soomi I’m different.”

Namjoon shakes his head, “There’s no point, Hobi.  We all tried, believe me.  But he’s decided that he’s in love with her.  Just get on board with it.”

Jungkook sends Hoseok a toothy grin once he swallows the last of the cappuccino and nods emphatically.

He knows what his friends think of him.

That he’s slutty and careless.  That commitment scares the shit out of him.  That he’s incapable of monogamy.  A combination of all of the above.

But Jungkook knows the truth.  He didn’t want a girlfriend before this because he hadn’t met someone that made sense to him.

And what’s the point of being with someone unless you’re all in?

“Anyway when you’re guests at our wedding it’ll all make sense,” Jungkook pushes his empty coffee cup to the side, “We’re meant to be.”

Taehyung laughs at this - despite himself - and Hoseok and Namjoon chuckle too.

“Jungkook?” The sound of someone calling his name causes him to turn quickly, eyes widening when he sees who it is.  Y/N.  She’s smiling at him of course - but that’s not what causes Jungkook to almost go into cardiac arrest.

No.  Of course not.

It’s the beautiful angel standing beside Y/N that causes him to almost forget how to breathe.

“Hi,” He squeezes out despite himself, eyes riveted to Soomi’s beautiful face, “Hi.”

Soomi smiles and Jungkook is immediately breathless.

“Jungkook right?  Y/N’s… Friend.”  The suggestive tone annoys Jungkook - he can’t have Soomi thinking he belongs to anyone else but her - and he nods.

“Yeah.” “But just a friend now,” Y/N pipes up helpfully, “We… Uh… Worked through our differences.  And now we’re friends.  Just friends.  Totally platonic.” Jungkook thinks she’s kind of overkilling the whole thing but he doesn’t say anything.  Instead he smiles at Soomi and watches as her face puts two and two together.

Yes.  Yes.

Jungkook wants her - no he needs her to know that he’s single.

Really single.

Totally single and available and hers.

Namjoon clears his throat somewhere from Jungkook’s left.  He turns to his friends and nods quickly.

“Right.  Yes of course.  My friends - these are my friends.  Taehyung and Namjoon, and Y/N you’ve already met Hoseok.” The two share a small wave.  Jungkook ignores the stab of annoyance that sends to his gut.

“Hi,” Soomi smiles in a way Jungkook is sure is almost too heavenly to be real, “I’m Soomi.” God.  He really is a goner.

//

Jungkook doesn’t want to brag, but he is pretty good at bowling.

Okay.  Who’s he kidding?

He totally wants to brag.

The moment Y/N splits them up into two teams - Soomi, Jungkook and her versus Namjoon, Hoseok and Taehyung - he’s determined to win.

He has to win. 

He has to show Soomi one of his many, many, many talents. 

“You’re pretty good at this,” Soomi remarks as he throws his first strike, “Or is that just beginner’s luck?”

Jungkook shakes his head and shrugs, “I’d say I’m pretty good.”

Her giggle is music to his ears.

“That’s impressive.  What kind of girl doesn’t want a man who can throw a strike?”

Jungkook smirks, “That’s what I always say.” Her eyes crinkle at the side when she smiles and though it's not quite as adorable as Y/N’s - he’ll never admit this out loud - she still looks so sweet his heart constricts almost painfully in his chest.  He forgets for a moment where he is, laying on the charm thick.

“Is that how you seduce poor unsuspecting women then?  With your bowling skills?”

He winks in that way that usually works and his smirk widens, “You know it!” 

Soomi giggles again and Jungkook is surprised at how smoothly this all seems to be going - when the sound of somebody throwing a gutter grabs his attention.

His eyes lift - thinking it has to be the other team - and he furrows his brow when he sees Y/N standing at the very top of the bowling lane, staring at the full set of pins in front of her.

Holy shit.

Jungkook momentarily forgets about Soomi - his competitive nature kicked into overdrive - as he shoots up from his seat and rushes towards Y/N.

“Oh my god,” He’s right beside her in an instant, “Was that you?”

Y/N looks up at him - cheeks flushed - and nods, “Yeah.  I’m terrible at bowling.”

“So why would you choose to come here?  On your birthday?” 

Jungkook is somewhere between disbelief and pure horror.  But he has to admit, the look on her face is sort of funny.  She’s mortified.

“Soomi suggested it.  She said it might be fun,” She looks away for a moment, “For her maybe.”

The sound of someone scoring a strike blares to Jungkook’s left and when he sees Taehyung performing some kind of ridiculous victory dance, he decides enough is enough.

“No.  No.”  Jungkook sets his jaw, “I’m going to help you.”

Y/N’s brow lifts, “What?” “I’m going to help you.  You’re going to score a strike.” 

She snorts out a laugh.

“I don’t think you realise how truly terrible I am at this.”

“And I don’t think you realise how truly competitive I am,” He gestures to the balls, “Grab the lime green.  That’s the lightest.”

Y/N watches him for a moment longer.  She looks behind him and moves her hand in the general direction of Soomi.

“What about Soomi?” He flares his nostrils, “She’ll still be there after I finish helping you.”

Y/N stares at him, and when Jungkook cocks his head towards the row of balls lining the back of the bowling alley, she shrugs and follows his command.  

Jungkook takes this as a moment to teach Y/N how to shine.  

After all, what better way to fell good about yourself than being good at something you always thought you sucked at?

When Y/N comes back with the lime green ball, he grabs her free arm and positions her to stand with her back to his chest, wordlessly.

“Woah.”  Y/N breathes, “What are you doing?”

Jungkook’s mouth is right beside her ear, “Just follow me okay?  I’m helping you, I swear.”

He slides his hand down to the ball and grips her fingers carefully.

“Don’t hold too much tension in your wrist,” He tells her sternly, “You’re too tense.  You’re always too tense.  Relax.” Something strange passes between them.  Y/N takes a long, deep breath, and Jungkook tries to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Now slowly, slowly, bring the ball back,” Y/N follows Jungkook’s movements, “And… Release.”

He helps her flick it onto the lane, and they watch in suspense as the ball spins towards the pins.  There is almost a moment where everything is suspended in time - before the ball crashes with the pins and nine of them fall down.

Y/N squeals in happiness and turns around sharply, throwing her arm around Jungkook’s neck and pressing herself against him in a hug.

“Thank you Jungkook!” She is smiling so widely, his heart turns, “You’re the best.”

“You’re welcome.”  Jungkook finds he’s grinning too, “You deserve it.  Happy birthday Y/N.” He pushes some hair out of her face - practical purposes of course, it was getting in her eyes - and she seems to catch her breath at the gesture. They stare at each other for a moment, before someone clears their throat from behind them and they break apart.  Soomi is standing between them, holding a bubble gum pink bowling ball.

Jungkook wonders almost flippantly if she only picked it up for it’s colour.

“It’s my turn, right?” She turns her smile on Jungkook and he melts.

God.

She’s beautiful.

“Right.”  Jungkook smiles back, “Your turn.”

When he turns to move back to their booth he notices Y/N watching their interaction carefully.  Her eyes flit away the moment she’s caught, but Jungkook knows what he saw.

Strange.

Very strange indeed.

//

Later on that evening, after they’ve all shared a pizza, and Jungkook has spent the rest of the night watching Soomi with hearts in his eyes, Hoseok clears his throat with purpose.

They’re sat in their living room - Hoseok has decided to crash over because, why not? - and playing a midnight mario kart match, when Jungkook’s friend seems to have something to say.

Jungkook pauses the game.  He turns to Hoseok.

“Yes?” There is a brief moment of silence.  Taehyung is forever scrolling through his phone, and Namjoon has long ago gone to bed.  Hoseok clicks his tongue.

“Are you sure you like Soomi?”

The question completely throws Jungkook off.

He raises a questioning brow, “What?”

“I’m just - asking.  I’m just…” Hoseok turns to Taehyung for support.  When his friend doesn’t notice, he smacks him across the shoulder, “Tae.”

“What?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes, “Have you guys talked about this?” Taehyung seems to realise where the conversation has just come from.  He actually locks his phone and sets it to one side.

“Yeah.”  Taehyung answers honestly, “We have.” “I’ve told you guys a million times.  I know I barely know her but -” “That’s not it.”  Hoseok licks his bottom lip, “I mean it’s crazy you think you fell in love at first sight but… Stranger things have happened.” Jungkook scoffs, “So?  Why have you asked then?” Another beat.

Taehyung sighed heavily, “Because we think you like Y/N.”

“What the fuck?” Jungkook snorts out a laugh because really - what else can he do?, “Why the fuck would you think that?” His friends share another look and Jungkook hates that.

He hates that they think they know him better than he knows himself.

Hoseok shakes his head, “Just a feeling.” “A feeling that’s wrong.”  Jungkook states firmly, “Dead wrong.” Taehyung nods and picks up his phone, “Fine.  Alright.  We’re wrong then.” Hoseok seems like he wants to say more but he doesn’t opting instead for something that sounds sort of like a grunt.

Jungkook watches his friends for a moment longer.

“Yeah.  So wrong.”

//

That night, when Jungkook’s just about to go to bed he receives a text message.  He opens his phone, expecting Y/N and finding, instead, an unrecognised number staring back at him.

Soomi: hiiiii jungkook :) it's soomi… y/n gave me ur number. hope u dont mind.

Jungkook pushes his friends’s ridiculous theory to the back of his head, and focuses instead on the fact that Soomi has just texted him.  His thumbs move to answer her but he pauses, moving instead to open Y/N’s chat history.

Jungkook: hey. happy bday again champ. u da bomb!! also thanks for giving soomi my number. u a real one for that, chief!!! :) :) :)

Y/N’s reply comes only a few minutes later.

Y/N: Thank you Jungkook.  I appreciate it.  And no worries… She seemed to really be into you after tonight.  So well done, yeah? :) 

Jungkook smiles at the emoji that he imagines Y/N forced herself to add, and almost misses the part when she says Soomi was into him.

Right.  Yeah.  Perfect.

He opens up Soomi’s chat and starts to write out a reply.

This is exactly what he wanted.

//

TAGLIST:  @cuddleboo @veronawrites @minluvly @severetimetravelnerd @moonchild1 @bunnyjeonjk @multicolourunicorn  @somewhereinthestarss  @jwlmnbt  @jojo-suga @zera10 @ggukkieland @thesugatoyourtae @dxlbts​ @wxndi

#bts #college!jungkook #fuckboy!jungkook #fanfic #fanfiction #bangtan #jeon jungkook #smut #angst #romcom #imagine

[jarofstyles]

Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar. 

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something. 

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well. 

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today. 

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her. 

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades. 

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her. 

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most  but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be? 

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.” 

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today. 

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face. 

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?”  He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments. 

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal. 

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted. 

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years. 

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously. 

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did? 

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger. 

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of. 

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live. 

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth. 

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties. 

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment. 

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do. 

DaddyH. He was new. 

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck. 

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure. 

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace. 

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice. 

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there. 

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case. 

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to. 

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly. 

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter. 

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #professor!harry #professor!h #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

[ambertea]

clever

Read on AO3

She’s six years old and she’s just won a certificate for Maths.

Her mum’s sitting at the back of the assembly, exchanging whispers to the single dad sitting next to her. Rose keeps looking back, trying to catch her eye, but instead watches her mother’s hand sneaking up a strange man’s thigh.

The headmaster smiles at her strangely, in a way she will later define as ‘condescending’ but in the moment she can’t wrap her head around.

“Well done, you clever girl.” He says, and Rose hates it. His clammy hand engulfs hers and Rose just blinks as he shakes it up and down.

The school claps dutifully and her mum is still not looking at her.

She’s eleven years old and she hates everyone in her class. They tease her in the playground, mock her in the classroom and the only safe haven is the tiny library. The librarian is old and odd, and she strokes Rose’s hair like she’s nothing more than a tiny doll.

“Don’t try so hard to be clever,” she tells her. “They’ll leave you alone.”

Rose leaves the library and never comes back.

She’s fifteen years old and GCSEs are utter bullocks. Mickey has already failed them all, already told her they don’t matter in the real world. She stays behind after school to sit in empty classrooms to figure out algebra and tells her mum she still does gymnastics.

She gets her results in a thick brown envelope and takes a quick glance at a long list of A’s before she chucks it in the bin.

“Pure shit.” She tells her mum. “Didn’t even try, anyway. I’m just not clever enough.”

Her mum throws her a party regardless, and Rose ignores the ache in her chest.

She’s seventeen and he’s fucking hot.

She’s told her mum she’s doing A-levels because she hasn’t figured out if she wants to do hairdressing or childcare. Instead, she doodles equations on the back of English papers whilst she waits for everyone else to finish.

She meets Jimmy outside the school gates and he’s smoking cigarettes and the smell gets right into the back of her throat. She tells him that it’s bad for him, and he tells her he could be bad for her. He’s right.

She drops out of school and her mother approves because it was giving her airs and graces. What her mother does not approve of is the filthy bedsit she moves into, where she cries as her boyfriend screams at her.

“You think you’re clever, do you?” he yells, and she shakes her head and whispers no, no, never.

She’s nineteen, fucking shop window dummies are after her, and a strange man is standing with her in the lift.

“’Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.”

“Good point. Well done.”

She’s wrong, but the praise bounces around her brain.

She runs off with him because apparently, that’s just what she does. Runs off with charismatic men, leaves her mother worried sick, because she is Rose, and Rose is not clever.

This man, however, is no Jimmy. He’s smart – so smart, any small attempts at intelligence still leave her feeling dumb. This is a comfort. She argues with him, thinks around him, and starts to feel a bit better about herself.

He’s sweet as well, and kind, and doesn't care when she asks too many questions. He shows her how to strip wires and repair parts of his precious ship, and they tinker away together in comfortable silences. Now and then, she properly impresses him, and he ignores the beauties of the universe and beams at her instead. It’s strange and wonderful and she tries her best not to disappoint him.

Then she is sent away, he is trapped, and it’s time for her to use her bloody brains only she’s not sure they even work anymore. He is dying, far in the future, but still dying, and she is watching her mum scoff down chips. She doesn’t want to go back to her old life, doesn’t want to play stupid anymore.

“Why, because you’re better than us?”

No, because she has learned what life is like when she tries, and she is not yet ready to stop.

She makes it back, using her brain and a fucking massive truck, and it is worth it if just for the way he is looking at her. He tells her she is fantastic and then explodes into a whole new man, with a lankier frame and wilder hair. He takes a long nap, and she is left to be useless once more.

She stands up in front of actual, breathing monsters and tries to copy words she’s heard, but her voice shakes, and her hands are trembling. They laugh at her, and she is eleven again, being teased by the nasty girls in her class.

He saves the day, because that’s just what he does, and she runs off with him again because his smile is still kind and their hands fit nicely. Cassandra sits inside her brain and hums with curiosity, poking around her mind like it’s a mildly interesting boutique.

“Not as thick as you seem, are you?” She whispers into Rose’s mind.

She’s inside some sort of spaceship and he is gushing over the accomplishments of Reinette de Pompadour. She already knows all this, knows who she is, but he is enjoying the sound of his own voice, so she keeps quiet.

She watches him carefully, notices the lipstick marks around his face and the ridiculous angle of his collar, and stamps down the familiar feelings of jealousy rising within her chest.

It had felt like they were growing closer. Their hugs had been lingering, hands held tightly at any available moment. She had thought something was growing, something small and precious and good. Clearly, she was wrong.

Reinette dies, and Rose isn’t glad, not really, but she watches him carefully afterward and wonders. Wonders why he keeps her around if he even wants her there. She tries to ask, but the words die on her tongue.

She has almost let the feeling go when she meets her father, a man who does not know her and apparently does not care to. She calls him dad and he runs, leaving her crying and shaking and so very vulnerable. She wonders, afterward, why. Why no one has ever wanted her properly, why it feels like no one has even met her in the first place. She sobs into her mum’s shoulder and wishes she had told her about the GCSE results.

Maybe it’s a good thing, she thinks later, that she’s alone. She has no real connections that make her want to stay at home, no real relationships that don’t leave her mentally exhausted. He is her grounding point, her focus, and he doesn’t think she’s stupid, not really, but he doesn’t think she’s clever either.

She knows she loves him; knows she will spend the rest of her life pining for him. It aches, having so much unspent emotion coursing under her skin. Feels like she could explode and implode simultaneously. But his eyes are so soft, and he is so worth it.

“We’ll always be alright, me and you.” She tells him. He just stares into the sky glumly.

“There’s a storm approaching.”

She hopes for a bit of rain but instead gets a fucking earthquake.

She’s twenty-one, she’s in a different universe, and she’s absolutely fine.

“How are you doing?”

“Are you okay?”

“Speak to me, Rose, please.”

She doesn’t speak to anyone. Doesn’t even look in the mirror.

It’s hard to assign blame on a talking pepper pot, so instead, she blames herself. If she’d been stronger. Tried harder. Been cleverer.

She tells her mum this over a bottle of wine, and she just laughs.

“People like us aren’t clever, Rose. We’re survivors.”

She doesn’t want to be a survivor anymore.

She starts working at Torchwood. Starts sleeping at Torchwood as well. Pete gives her the job out of pity but is quickly astonished by the scale of the work she’s doing.

“You’re brilliant.” He tells her one night. Jackie scoffs.

“Brilliant? Hark at her.”

Rose ignores her. It doesn’t matter.

She sits through A-levels, and then university lectures, and then physics conventions with groups of boring boys who follow her like a bizarre squadron. She has a brother now, a tiny boy with eyes just like hers, and when she tucks him into bed, she whispers stories of the stars.

She creates a dimension cannon and brings it home to show Pete. He marvels over it whilst Jackie sniffs like she’s got a nasty cold.

“Just glorified jewelry. Face it, sweetheart. You’re stuck here with the rest of us. It’s time to get used to it.”

“Shut up,” Rose says, and she can feel her pulse banging away in her ears like a marching parade.

Jackie is spluttering, Pete’s eyes are wide, and Rose isn’t quite sure what she’s doing but she’s doing it anyway.

“I can do this. I am going to do this. So just shut up.”

She does do it. She flits around universes like students backpack around Europe, and it’s strangely healing to spend so much time by herself.

She meets tiny aliens made of glass who kiss through the refractions of light and hugs ginormous bear-like creatures who are surprisingly friendly and incredibly soft.

She searches for him, and it hurts and it’s hard but it’s also fantastic.

She gets through finally to a universe that should be right but is oh so very wrong. A red-haired woman screams at her, and Rose is finding it difficult to breathe.

“I'm nothing special. I'm a temp. I'm not even that. I'm nothing.”

“Donna Noble, you are the most important woman in the whole of creation!”

“Oh, don't. Just don't.”

She tells her mum about her GCSE results because she can’t stop thinking about it. Her mum stares at her for a long while and then looks down at her hands. Rose has never seen her mum speechless before, doesn’t like it, so she just nods and leaves.

She finds him, and the feeling rushes right from her toes to the top of her head. She has done it. After all the effort and pain, she has found him, and the uncurling pride is like nothing she’s ever felt before.

He gets shot and utterly ruins it, but the feeling lingers.

Her mum shows up at the worst possible time, but she is there, and she is looking at Rose so fiercely. When the situation calms down and they are safe, she pulls Rose into a tight hug and rubs her hands in circles across the small of her back.

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She whispers, and Rose quickly wipes her eyes on her shoulders.

She is dumped on the same beach she has had nightmares about for the last five years. She is left again, but this time she is left with a familiar man who whispers promises into her ear and holds her like she is something important.

He is looking at her like he’s hoping she might lead the way, and she knows how to do this now, knows how to think and plan and strategize. She kisses him on the cheek, watches the blush that spreads across his cheek, takes his hand, and leads him back to England.

She doesn’t take him straight back to the mansion, hates the idea of speech and silence in equal measure. Instead, she takes him to her lab, and he stares at her designs through startled eyes and stolen glasses. She fidgets in the corner of the room, and wraps her arms around her waist, waiting for his verdict.

He turns to her, whips the glasses off of his face and a look of quiet wonder spreads across his face.

“You’re brilliant.”

She squirms under his gaze, picks off an invisible bit of fluff from her jacket. He is still looking at her, and she tries her best to smile.

“Thanks.”

“No, seriously. These are so impressive.”

She’s still not sure what to do with the praise, but it warms her and fills all the cracked pieces of her soul with new and growing tissue. She kisses him, both because she’s not sure what else to do, and because she can, and he smiles against her lips. They break apart and he runs his fingers over her work, his eyes soft and curious.

“How did you do this?” He whispers, and something tender and precious burns gently in her chest.

“I guess I’m just clever.”

#i've reread this so many times i'm not entirely sure if it makes sense but hopefully! #lol #fic #rose tyler #doctor who

[mediocre--writing]

Hello again from the anon who sent the first ask about childhood friends Billy crushing on Steve and venting to his mother. You wrote it amazingly, by the way. I would love to see Steve chasing after Billy in the next part, rather than the other way around. Maybe he doesn’t understand why Billy’s been distant and he misses him. I’m not sure if the timeline is accurate but it could be around the time Steve suspects her of having something with Jonathan so he feels very alone and sad and misses his best friend and Billy wants to cry all over again.

part 1 2

billy wakes up the next morning with the weight of his worries pressing into his chest. in comparison, the weight of his secret has been carefully lifted off his shoulders by his mother and was being kept and cradled with the upmost care.

he was left with a list of chores sitting on the dining table and another note reminding him to pick up his extra work from the school.

before even looking a the list of chores, billy did the bare minimum to make himself look ready enough for the day and made his way to the school.

getting his assignments for his last four periods was easy, they were sitting with the receptionist in a little red folder, but his first period, mrs. kelman, hadn’t given hers in yet.

the secretary, being the lazy ass she is, just waved billy through to go to her room and grab the assignments.

her room, of course, was one of the farthest points from the front entrance of the school, so billy power walked most of the way there, wanting to get out of there before he saw someone—a specific someone—and they started asking questions.

knocking on the door once he’d reached it, mrs. kelman came to answer it, muttering something about him being a heathen and a pain in her ass, but billy didn’t care.

because how could he be so dumb? really, you’re friends with a guy your entire life and forget you share the same first period? and you couldn’t wait another thirty minutes to get your assignments?

god, billy wants to shove his finger in the pencil sharpener.

“you’ve got a book?”

billy is staring out the windows of the back of the classroom when he hears mrs. kelman clear her throat, “do you have your book at home?”

with a small cough, billy assures her his copy of the book is at his house. she proceeds to explain the worksheets in detail while handing him, not one, not two, not three, but four packets of work pages he needs to complete ‘by tuesday, if not, i don’t care what you did do, it’s all a zero.’ psycho bitch.

billy, red folder and packets in hand, practically struts out of the classroom before she can come up with any more work to give him.

he’s not yet half way down the hallway when he hears shoes squeaking behind him, his name being called in a voice he really wants to ignore.

“billy, dude, you didn’t answer my calls last night,”

“went to bed early,” billy responded, not caring to turn around or stop walking. nevertheless, steve caught up to him, rushing to block billy’s path.

“well then, talk to me now, what happened yesterday? you haven’t been the same recently, i’m worried,” steve practically begs billy as they finally stop in the hallway.

“i have chores and about fifty pages of work i need to get started on, steve, so if you don’t mind...” billy stepped to walk away but steve grabbed his elbow.

billy’s packets and papers went down to the floor. “ok, i’m sorry about that, but why won’t you talk to me? and what’s with full naming me? you never call me ‘steve!’”

billy bent down to grab at the papers and shove them into his red folder, cradling them in his arms, “well, steve, sometimes people change and you may never know why. maybe they don’t fit in your life the way you thought they did, maybe you finally see the things the way you probably should have seen them all along,” billy scoffed, “have fun at the party tonight, steve,”

as billy walked off, steve felt sick to his stomach. billy was sarcastic and dry most of the time, but never to steve. with steve, there was never the underlying tone of annoyance there was at school and billy never rushed to get away from anyone, at least not this desperately.

steve was off for the rest of the day. it was hard not to notice the constant fidgeting and how he’d stare off into space in gym, the only class he really liked or actively participated in.

by the end of the day, his fifth period (a class he shared with nancy) steve was completely shut down.

wasn’t listening to the teacher or responding to either nancy or tommy’s attempts at getting his attention. he was just thinking about billy. about what he said. how he said it.

that emphasis on how people ‘don’t fit in your life’ and how angry billy was while saying it. how honest the words sounded coming out of his mouth, like he spoke with his entire chest and wanted steve to hear every single word for what it was.

but steve was never good at dissecting literature and hidden meanings, all he knew was what’s at face value.

and billy’s speech at face value was just a message that billy no longer wanted steve in his life. that he had moved on to bigger, better things.

but this, this felt like something his english teacher would scold him for not seeing the depth to.

and steve worried. worried his way through the rest of the day and into the next. worried all through the friday night party and the weekend. worried the monday billy was still suspended.

worried the entire week while billy was back. while billy still wasn’t talking to him or acknowledging him or even fucking looking at him.

steve had thrown himself into nancy that week, been driving her to school and home every day and had taken her on a date twice on school nights.

both times, without realizing, they’d ended up at the diner billy’s mom worked, the one billy would bus tables for in his free time to make a little extra money.

the first day, a tuesday, they’d been served by the diner lady herself, and steve had chatted like they were old friends.

neither mentioned billy, who was clearly seen in the window to the kitchen cleaning dishes.

the second day, a thursday, steve and nancy had come after the movies to get milkshakes. steve got vanilla and nancy got strawberry.

they didn’t see either billy nor his mom that day.

billy was working, though, steve knew because his unmistakable car was parked in its usual spot to the left corner of the building.

steve searched his entire brain, something he’d never done before, to figure out what billy meant.

he wanted to ask someone who knew more about literature than any teacher he’d ever had, but billy was the person he couldn’t ask for help this time.

steve never realized how much he depended on billy for everything. and he means everything.

date ideas for nancy. billy had the best spots.

how to keep nancy smiling. billy had the best pickup lines and corny jokes to make people smile.

keeping steve from not failing his classes. billy was the only person capable of getting through steve’s thick skull.

girl problems and regular teenage angst. billy always knew what people were feeling and how to react.

steve was so dependent on billy and he was absolutely crumbling without him there.

and nancy was frustrated. steve kept spacing out and ignoring her during dates. he wasn’t as charming as before and he was clingier than usual.

‘an absolute nuisance and is acting so desperate’ were her exact words.

this is what she told jonathan byers one night while they sat with their brothers and their friends at the diner after a long afternoon at the arcade.

this is what billy heard while busing tables behind them, unnoticed, before he opened his big mouth.

“done with that?” billy asked with a sickly sweet smile while pointing down at nancy’s empty milkshake glass.

as she made eye contact, her face burned bright red while she tried to control her facial features, “refill?” was the only thing she could squeak out.

billy kept the smile plastered on his face, “‘course!”

he made sure to spit in her stupid strawberry milkshake before he brought it to her.

“do that again and you won’t be working here anymore, boy,” the owner of the diner—benny—whispered to billy while holding onto his upper arm as he walked away from their table.

“yes, sir,” billy said, fake apologetically, because he grinned while walking back to the kitchen.

damn all the money in the world, nancy wheeler was a bitch and deserved her spit-shake.

billy had come to peace with the fact that steve was straight and in love with nancy.

really, steve couldn’t control who he liked.

ok so he was bitter as hell, but it didn’t stop him from being a decent person.

steve, on the other hand, was in the midst of a gay panic—not that he knew what that was. all steve knew was that he missed his billy—

wait when did ‘billy’ become ‘steve’s billy?’

and since when did steve think about billy more than he thought about his girlfriend? especially while he was alone in his house, laying on his bed.

he should be thinking about his girlfriend. his pretty, sweet, incredibly smart, charming, beautiful, blue-eyed—wait! not billy! think about your girlfriend, dumbass, not your best friend!

steve didn’t sleep that night. he stayed up thinking about billy.

about how it had been almost two weeks since he last hung out with billy and over a month since they’d last talked, like actually had a conversation. about how he didn’t even know what his girlfriend was doing this week, even though he knew she told him.

about how he needs to talk to billy.

he needs to figure out why he’s obsolete in billy’s life now. about why they drifted so quick it’s like something shoved a knife between their friendship.

and so, on that sunday morning, while most of hawkins would be out for church, steve drove over to billy’s house, knocking on the door of people who didn’t wake until noon most sundays.

“oh my god,” steve groaned to himself, knocking harder, “open your fucking door, people,”

the door swung open so fast it scared steve a little, almost knocking on a person—billy’s mom.

“hi,” steve gave an innocent smile, though he was met with a grumpy glare.

“why?” she asked desperately, “you know not to come before 12, 10 if it’s an emergency. it’s sunday, the day of rest, and here i am, not resting,”

“i need to talk to billy,”

“yeah,” she nodded, “see, he’s aware that it’s the day of rest, so he’s still sleeping,”

“i don’t care,” steve was stubborn.

she shrugged, “he punches you it’s not my problem. i’ll be resting so scream really loud if he kills you, the neighbors should hear and they’ll call someone for ‘ya,”

she winked at steve as she made her way back to her room, hoping to god that they’d either make up or make out, and she knew she probably wasn’t sleeping anytime soon. these were her boys she was thinking about, after all.

steve walked quick to billy’s door, turning the knob and moving to billy’s bed, sitting on the edge with his hands in his lap.

“i know you heard me knocking,”

“shhh...”

“billy,” steve groaned as he shifted to look at billy ‘sleeping.’

“he’s asleep. call again later,”

“you are your mother’s child,” steve snapped jokingly.

“well then she’s a smart lady. go away, steve,” billy pulled his pillow over his head.

“no,”

“—mmk,”

“talk to me, billy!”

“no,”

“why not?”

“he’s sleeping,”

“jesus christ!” steve stood up, pulling the pillow off of billy’s head and hitting him with it repeatedly. “get up and talk to me you brat!”

billy sat up after the second hit, but steve just kept going.

“what is wrong with you!?” billy put his hands over his head, pushing the covers off himself.

“me? what’s wrong with me!?” steve dropped the pillow to his side as he made crazy eyes at billy, “you’ve been ignoring me for the past, like, month!”

“no i have not!” billy pointed his finger at steve as a teacher would a student. “you have been the one attached at the fuckin hip with wheeler, so don’t you say that i’m the issue here!”

“i talked to you all the time!”

“about her!” billy stood so he could look steve in the eyes properly. “i don’t give a shit about her, steve! i really, really do not care about her in any way besides whatever concerns you! so i’m so sorry that i’m not very attentive on your hour long rants about how ‘nice and soft her hair is,’”

“don’t mock me!” steve exclaimed, insulted by billy’s bad impression of him.

“she’s a bitch!” billy yelled.

“don’t call her a bitch!”

“ok.” billy shrugged, “she’s a prissy bitch,”

“go fuck yourself,” steve complained, throwing his head back in annoyance.

“no!” billy yelled, taking a step foreward. “she talks about you behind your back. to byers. says you’re desperate and a nuisance. is that the same girl you’re so in love with, steve? huh!?”

steve’s face fell a little at the accusation and his eyes darted around billy’s room.

“liar,”

“when have i ever lied to you?”

steve was quiet.

billy, in a softer voice, “i’m not lying. i just don’t want you to be all in love and her not feel the same way, you’re not good together,”

steve had shuffled around to sit at billy’s desk. “wow thanks,”

“i’m serious,” billy’s face was kinder, not as harsh, “she’s already all grown up, and you’re not. it’s a good thing, steve. you’re happy and carefree and want to... go skydiving and she just wants to... play mahjong at the retirement home,”

steve cracked a smile but it fell just as quick, “she really said all that?”

“i spit in her milkshake and she drank the whole thing,” billy admitted, leaning against the desk next to steve’s legs.

steve smiled, “‘course you did,”

they sat quietly for a minute, taking in billy’s words and the consequences of them.

“i’ve been really worried about you,” steve admitted. “you ignored me for a week then got into a big fight, which you haven’t done since that one boy made fun of me freshman year, and then you didn’t even act like i was around. thought you hated me after what happened in the hall,”

“don’t hate you,” billy leaned closer to steve, knocking their shoulders together, “could never hate you. just... frustrated, i guess?”

“cause of nancy?”

billy shrugged, “yea—“

steve turned to look at him better, “something else, though,” he stared at billy for quite some time, “your dad didn’t call—“

“no!” billy shut down the idea, “no, it’s not him. he’s lone gone now,”

“then what?”

“it’s no—“

“it’s something,” steve insisted.

for as awful as steve was on his own, all alone with nancy or in school, for as bad as he was at reading people, billy was an open book to him. he knew every tell he had and could almost read his mind.

“no,”

“yes,” steve was stern.

“no, steve,”

“talk to me,” steve almost begged.

“no,”

“why do i love you?” steve whispered quietly to himself, making billy’s head shoot up before he remembered that he and steve had been saying ‘i love you’ since two weeks after they met.

“steve, you don’t need to worry about—“

“you?” steve guessed. “i don’t need to worry about you? how is that right when all you do is worry about me?”

“i don’t—“

“you do!” steve had a fire in his heart now, “even when you’re upset with me you’re still a good friend. you still look out for me and spit in my awful girlfriends milkshake while she talks crap about me!

“i don’t get why you do it, billy, because i don’t return it and i didn’t even realize until now!”

“you don’t have to,”

“but i should!” steve was pacing in the middle of billy’s bedroom, “i am the worst to you and you just don’t do anything about it! i love you. i love you so much but i’m such an ass to you and i can’t even—“

“i love you too, steve, we’re there for each other. always have been—“

“no,” steve’s eyebrows went up and he steadied his shaking hands. as he realized it for the first time, steve spoke, “no, i love you, billy,”

billy was frozen.

didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t dare even blink.

it was a dream, it had to be.

“i love you and i want to care about you more than i do. i’m a shitty person as is, but, i want to be there for you like you always have for me,”

“i love you, too,”

“why are you crying?” steve’s eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks down billy’s face, rushing over to wipe them away.

“‘m happy. they’re happy tears,” billy sniffled as he looked up at steve, “promise,”

and they kissed.

steve didn’t even think about nancy. billy didn’t think about the shadow under his door that was most definitely his mom listening in.

they ignored the way it was a really bad kiss, especially for two boys with such reputations that they have, but enjoyed it nonetheless.

billy enjoyed the way steve’s hands pushed his messy curls away from his face and steve enjoyed billy’s hands rubbing his lower back.

they didn’t have to think beyond that moment, didn’t have to worry about a single thing.

their only plans past that moment were for steve to break it off with nancy, then they’d go get chocolate milkshakes and eat cherry pie at the diner.

#ok i made nancy the villain but it’s just because it was an easy target #lol this probably has so many spelling/grammar mistakes #stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #billy’s mom #billy hargroves mom #billy stranger things #nancy wheeler

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

OMG YES THERES SO MANY GOOD YES oh my god,,, I’m going to give u Three I hope that is Okay go for whichever are cool but Flirting Under Fire, Anger Born of Worry (I hope I’m understanding that correctly), and Wilderness/ Survival all sound epic 👁👁

(I was... incredibly tempted to do most of these, so there is a solid chance you might get more than one at some point but for now I decided to go with Anger Born of Worry)

Ao3 link

If Eddie Kaspbrak had to rank her least favorite places in the world, before all this, she thinks the only place that would rank above the apartment she shares with her husband would be a hospital.

She hates everything about them, the beep beep beeping of machines she should be able to name by now but can’t because no one ever seems to feel the need to explain anything they’re doing to her, the overwhelming scent of cleaner and antiseptic, the uncomfortable knowledge you are most likely sitting in a room someone has died in; everything about the hospital is gross and terrible and makes her feel so very small and lost, like she’s eleven again and her mom heard her sniffle and now she’s missing the test she has to take in her first period English class to get her blood drawn.

Now, with memories starting to shape themselves back into something salvageable next to new ones, Neibolt house ranks up there on her location based shit list (though she isn’t sure where it would fall, exactly, considering it doesn’t exist any more). She does know, however, with absolute certainty, that hospitals in general have been shoved a half slot back on her list to make room for the the green floor tiled stretch of Room #203 in Derry Medical Center that separates Eddie from Richie Tozier’s bedside.

Richie Tozier’s bedside that exists because she’s unconscious and badly injured. Richie Tozier’s bedside that exists because Eddie had gotten so distracted in feeling brave that it hadn’t even been bravery anymore, it’d been cockiness; pathetic, stupid, empty cockiness. She didn’t see the claw swipe down, she didn’t move in time, she had been bragging about killing something that wasn’t even dead yet.

And now she was the one sitting, perfectly fine, on the familiarly uncomfortable plastic of a Derry Medical Center folding chair, watching the shallow rise and fall of Richie Tozier’s chest through the thin paper of her hospital gown.

It was supposed to have been her. Eddie knows it.

“She's fine.” She doesn’t know who she's trying to convince, she’s all alone other than the unconscious comedian in front of her because their friends fucking abandoned them, and she's not that far off the deep end that she's talking to her about herself in third person. (She does know who she’s trying to convince by saying it. It’s herself, but that's fucking pathetic and she refuses to acknowledge it.)

Eddie feels a little bad for how bitter she is that she's alone with Richie right now; she knows why, and it totally makes sense, but that doesn’t stop her from being pissed off about it. She knows it makes sense that Bill had volunteered to be with Mike in her own room down the hall, even though Mike swore she’d be fine on her own. Apparently her arm was so deeply fucked she was probably going to have some sort of permanent nerve damage and it was something Eddie felt deeply and terribly awful for not really caring about; she loves Mike and she’s certain that at some point, when her brain feels a little bit less like someone took one of those shitty metal pumpkin scrapers to it, she’ll be able to add more crippling guilt to her ‘crippling guilt’ pile over the fact she couldn’t help her more but she genuinely cannot find it in herself to process it. She also knows that Ben and Bev volunteering to go back to the Townhouse to get everyone clothes and pick up food that didn’t come from the few, sorely lacking, vending machines scattered around the hospital was important. 

(She does feel a little less bad about being pissed about that, though, considering she caught them kissing in the hallway the one time she stepped out of Richie’s room to go to the bathroom. Which, you know, great, fucking awesome for them or whatever, but she has a feeling thats going to take up just as much time as the clothes and food gathering.)

“She’s fine.” Repeating it into her knees doesn’t make it feel more true. It does manage to make it feel more pathetic though.

Because she's fucking not. She’s got at least one partially shattered kneecap from falling several hundred feet to the ground because Eddie wasn’t fast enough to stop her and a hole the general size and length of a football stapled shut in an ugly, twisted line through her side because Eddie was careless. Nothing about that was goddamn fine and she was lying now and she’d been lying when she’d promised it to her down in the cistern.

(“Oh fuck.” Richie bends over herself, poking at the hole in her side and hissing through her teeth in a way that gurgles with just enough blood to make Eddie feel dizzy.

“Don’t fucking touch it-” She slaps her hands away with the hand not applying pressure to her side and Richie leans her head into the crook of her shoulder before she can pull back. Eddie feels dizzy again.

“There goes… there goes my potential career as a bikini model, amiright, Eds?”

“Shut the fuck up, asshole, oh my god. Oh my fucking god.” Richie drops her head back to grins up at her, eyebrows raised just enough that it’s noticeable before quivering with the clear effort it’s taking to keep them up and dropping.

“Damn… st-stop… stop crying, if anyone should be torn up… like… torn up ‘bout the death of my Victoria’s Secret contract it should be me-”

“That’s bras, dipshit.” It doesn’t come out with the bite she means it to, and for some reason she feels guilty about that. Richie nuzzles more into her shoulder.

“Sorry, I can’t… can’t think of many swimwear lines ri’now.. ‘m literally dying’”

“No. No, no, no you fucking aren’t. You’re fine. You’re totally and completely fine, I promise.” She presses her sweatshirt harder to her side.)

(Liar.)

Eddie remembers, fuzzy in the normal way childhood memories are fuzzy and not in the ‘forcibly ripped out of her brain by a clown’ way, that when Bev came out of the deadlights as a kid her knees had kept buckling as they ran; before Mike had noticed and half-carried her the rest of the fight she’d managed to roll her ankle so bad that whole rest of the summer she'd very indiscreetly wince whenever she stepped down on it too hard. Apparently being in the deadlights made all your limbs fall asleep, Eddie was certain if someone was left in them long enough their muscles would start to dystrophy, because the deadlights were basically like a coma.

Like the coma Richie was in right fucking now becuase she’d shoved Eddie off her, fought through the numbness that must have been soaked into her bones to make sure Eddie was safe before getting fucking hole punched becuase she’d wasted all her energy and time on someone else.

She wasted it on Eddie.

Alright, she wasn’t in a coma; one of her tiny, subconscious Losers yelled at her until she revised it in her brain.

Richie wasn’t in a coma and Eddie was being dramatic; according to the doctor her body had just been exhausted from blood loss and stress so it had turned off for a little bit to let her recover, and they’d had to sedate her while they stitched her shut to make sure she didn’t wake up. He’d made it distinctly clear that she wasn’t in a coma, that they tried to avoid using that word, anyway, and she would probably be awake soon.

However, if you asked Eddie, in her entirely unprofessional opinion, being unconscious so your body didn’t shut down and die sure sounded like a fucking coma and she didn’t trust a goddamn word that came out of the mouth of anyone who was in the medical profession in Derry, Maine.

She had, most certainly, not been staring almost exclusively at Richie for the past few hours, and if she was then she’d argue staring at your unconscious, long lost friend, especially when you have nothing better to do because your friends abandoned you and you lost your phone in a sewer, is perfectly acceptable.

Richie always looked smaller without her glasses when they were younger. It had been a whole thing, every time she got the shit kicked out of her and lost them or they’d been snapped in half by someone slightly less violent but equally as creative, whoever was patching her up (Eddie, usually) kind of babied her through it because she just looked so fucking little and vulnerable without them. Eddie thinks she got pissed about it one time but she can’t exactly remember why. 

She still looks smaller without them. Too small for a forty year old woman who has been larger than life from the second she was born. It makes her want to wrap her up in a blanket and protect her from everything thats already happened, protect her from the fucking months of recovery and physical therapy thats to come, protect her from having to wake up and remember everything that just happened.

Eddie fucking hates it.

Richie is more than capable, she's going to be able to handle it, and she certainly doesn’t need protecting, especially from the asshole who got her skewered in the first place.

“Eds?” It’s a feeble noise, shaky and pained and scared, but just for a moment.

Eddie thinks her heart stops for a second.

“Richie!” She snaps her head up so fast something in her neck clicks, “Oh my god.”

“Eddie?” It comes out a little stronger this time, rough around the edges but Eddie thinks that's understandable. At least she sounds less scared.

“Yeah. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it’s me.” She rockets up to slam on the call button the nurse who’d come in before to change Richie’s IV had told her to use if/when (when, it was a when, Eddie had been avoiding being too hopeful, just in case, but it was a when because she's awake now) she woke up. No one answers the little intercom attached, “Fucking Derry.”

She stands half-over Richie’s bed, unsure of what to do now that she’s awake and no one is coming to fix what she destroyed because she certainly didn’t know how to.

“How… how are you feeling?”

“I’m not going to lie to you, like actual dogshit.” Richie looks a little lost, hand drifting over her side where the stab wound was but not exactly touching it; it takes all of Eddie’s power not to slap her hands away anyway.

“Fair enough.” The air is thick with quiet for a moment.

Richie’s awake, Richie’s alright, so Eddie doesn’t know why her chest still feels so fucking tight. She drops back into her chair, knees bouncing hard enough that the heels of her sneakers thud against the tile.

“Damn, Spaghetti, no thank you kiss for your knight in shining armor?” She grins at her, it’s a little wobbly at the corners, but Eddie refuses to look at it; folding her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair, which admittedly didn't have a lot of room for leaning back, but it was the principal of it all.

“Knights in shining armor don’t get their fucking tits stabbed off.” She doesn’t know if Richie is paying attention to how tight her voice has gotten; she didn’t mean for it to but she doesn’t make an attempt to loosen it.

“Fuck, did it get my tits too when I was bleeding out? That's gonna suck for my PR image-”

“You aren’t funny, asshole.”

“Rude.” She snorts, going to shift over to her side and look at Eddie, whole face screwing up, “Ow, shit.”

“Don’t fucking move, oh my god.” Eddie shoves herself up off the chair to push her back in place. Richie rolls her eyes, reaching up to run a hand through her hair and then wincing, letting her arm bounce off the mattress. For a second worry rushes through Eddie’s chest, hot and painful, somethings wrong somethings wrong somethings wrong.

“Fuck my hair is greasy, goddamn, how embarrassing, if I’d known I’d be unconscious in front of hot doctors today I would have brought dry shampoo.” Richie giggles a little under her breath, but it’s fake, one of her ‘filling the silence with bad comedy’ laughs, Eddie’s worry curdles sour, “How long was I out?”

“Couple hours.”

“Ugh, wild.”

“Mhm.” She sits back down, folding herself up; arms crossing tighter and one leg bending over the other to get them to stop bouncing.

“Why are you still here?” Richie is distinctly not looking at her when she asks it, voice slipping wonky in a way Eddie can’t really place, but she's tired, and she feels gross, and she’s still wearing clothes covered in sewage and Richie’s own blood becuase medical professionals from Derry apparently don’t give a single shit about infection, and shes not really in the mood to fucking parse.

“Oh, fuck off. It’s not like we were gonna leave you alone.”

“Um, okay. Do you know where my glasses are, because honestly I have no clue who you are right now.” She seems put out when Eddie doesn’t laugh at that.

“You lost them in the sewer when you got stabbed.”

“Ah, yeah, that makes sense… I have a spare pair back at-”

“Bev texted Bill a while ago, she got them out of your suitcase.” She interrupts quickly. Shes not sure why shes so fucking irritable all of a sudden but she is.

“Damn, she went through my stuff? Bev, that's so forward!” She grins, a set up to a punchline that’s certainly going to be stupid, and Eddie pointedly looks away, “Did the doctor mention when can I’m cleared for sex, because after what she found in there shes gonna be so disappointed-”

“That’s fucking gross, Richie. Do you ever fucking shut up?” She snaps; the doctor had, in fact, told Eddie when Richie would probably be cleared for sex, because the doctor assumed they were married from the way she’d been clinging to her sobbing when they came in and how hard she muscled her way into the back the second they got news she was stable.

It’d been fucking humilating and Eddie’s trying to block out how warm the doctor gesturing at Richie and calling her ‘the wife’ made her feel.

“Oh, come on, Spaghetti, you know I don’t.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.” It comes out nastier then it’s supposed to and Richie freezes for a second, eyes squinted up and lips pressed together, her stupid ‘finally understanding something’ face hadn’t changed since she was a kid, apparently.

“Dude, are you like… mad at me?”

“No.” She grinds out. Distinctly mad.

“What did I do? I’ve been literally unconscious, how was I annoying this time?”

Being unconscious was the fucking problem, asshole.

“I just told you I wasn’t mad.” She's not. She has no reason to be mad.

“You sound mad.”

“Richie,” She unfolds an arm to drag a hand down her face, “I’m not mad at you, just shut up, okay?”

“No!” She lets out a nervous little laugh, “What did I do?”

“You were just fucking stupid down there.”

“Down… down there like when I got fucking stabbed?”

“Yeah, you fucking idiot, when you got stabbed.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We almost couldn’t carry you out, asshole, we almost had to leave you there because you got so fucking stabbed and couldn’t just walk out.”

“Oh boy, what an inconvenience, for you.”

“It was.” Richie lets out a genuine cackle, sounding almost delighted with how ridiculous Eddie is being.

“You know Eddie, I’m sure feeling the love for saving your life here.” The thing is, she knows she's being ridiculous right now, she knows being angry at the person who is laid up in a hospital bed for shoving you out of the way of certain death is insane.

But knowing that it’s dumb to be mad, not know why she even would be, doesn’t mean she's not still pissed as hell.

“I didn’t fucking ask you to do that.”

“Oh, sorry, next time I’ll ask the murder clown to hold off for a second so I can see if I have permission to keep you from dying.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you,” Richie slumps her head back against the back of her bed, choking out an incredulous laugh, wincing as it pulls her stitches in a way that does not, thank you very much, make everything inside of Eddie want to drop the topic all together so she can fuss, “I cannot believe we’re having this conversation right now. I’m fine, Eds.”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“Oh my god.”

“What if you weren’t fine.”

The doctor’s big thing, after blinking skeptically through their messily patch-worked together explanation about urban exploring and falling rebar that Bev had made up on the ride to the hospital, was how lucky Richie was that she hadn’t been impaled somewhere vital. If Richie had been two inches shorter, he said, if Richie had been half a centimeter to the left, he said, she would be dead right now.

Dead. Dead dead dead, no coming back, no anything dead.

Stan Uris dead.

If Richie had been Eddie she would be dead right now.

And, fine, whatever, she wasn’t two inches shorter or half a centimeter to the left or Eddie Kaspbrak, she’d made the right decision, and now they were both alive; but the thing is, Richie couldn’t have possibly known any of that. She didn’t make some smart, calculated decision, she fucking gambled her own life away to save Eddie’s and thats not okay. Not even a little bit.

“Well,” She swallows hard enough that Eddie can see the column of her throat bob, before twisting her face into something fake and mischievous that's already tinging Eddie’s vision red before she opens her mouth, “Then I’d finally get to be with the love of my life again. Sonia was probably devastated you didn’t let me bleed out down there honestly-”

Joking. She’s joking about this. She’s joking like every time Eddie closes her eyes she doesn’t see Richie’s eyes going foggy as she finally gives in and slips out of consciousness in the cistern, like Eddie can’t still see Richie’s blood covering her hands even though she scrubbed them in the bathroom sink with the water heat on high until Bill came in and turned the water off, like Eddie didn’t almost watch her die.

“No! No, you don’t get to fucking do that right now. Fuck you. Fuck you. You could have died.”

“So?”

“What the fuck do you mean so?” And Eddie knows she shouldn’t brush that off, she knows thats fucking concerning or whatever, but shes just so fucking pissed she can’t think about anything else.

“People would fucking miss you, jackass, so fuck off with that shit!”

“Who?” She’s fucking laughing, like her life is something she’s fucking allowed to joke about, something she can play around with like its not important. Eddie is so angry she’s shaking. “No, seriously, tell me who you think is gonna miss me, Eddie. The guys who left bad reviews on my most recent special because my shirt wasn’t low cut enough? My manager? I mean, sure, he’s gonna hate having to make up for the cut to his pay but come on-”

“Me, you fucking asshole!”

“What?” If Eddie vision was a little less blurry with rage and angry tears she’s refusing to let fall she would see how quickly Richie froze at that, nails digging little crescents into her palms as she very shakily forces out; “Dude, you barely fucking know me.”

“Shut the fuck up, you know thats not fucking true. I would- the Losers would miss you.

“Sure.” It’s sarcastic and obnoxious and something about it, something about Richie sitting here and acting like she's being ridiculous for saying she cares about her, makes something deeply rooted in her chest snap.

“So you don’t miss Stan.” She doesn’t ask it, she demands it like a fact, forcing her to fucking face it.

“Thats not fucking fair.” Richie whispers, sounding choked.

“Hows it not  fair? You know Stan even less than we know eachother now, so you dont give a shit that Stan is fucking dead.”

“Of course I do!” She’s shaking, but Eddie is shaking too and she hasn’t really stopped since the cistern.

“So stop acting like no one would care if you died, you piece of fucking shit, god, I fucking hate you so much, stop being such a dick.”

“I’m the dick? I don’t think you fucking get it, Eddie. I wasn’t going to just watch you fucking die again.” The fire seeps out of Eddie’s brain so fast it feels like vertigo, dizzy with all the concern and anger and confusion shoving itself to the side so she can actually take in what she's looking at. Richie’s hands are fisted in the sheets under her, knuckles whited out in a weird pale yellow against already pale skin. Her eyes are squeezed shut so tight Eddie’s worried she might hurt herself.

“What… what the fuck are you talking about?”

“Fucking forget it. Super sorry I didn’t let the clown decimate your fucking ribcage.”

“No, Richie, I’m not just going to forget it. What the fuck does that mean?”

“Fuck off. It’s nothing, I’m awake, you can finally leave and go back to your husband or whatever because I’m so fucking obnoxious for almost dying for you-” She’s rambling, trying to avoid the elephant that she has personally lead into the room, and Eddie refuses to let her.

“Richie,” Without thinking about it she shoots her arm out to grab her hand, feeling disproportionately guilty when Richie tries to pull away at first, “What are you talking about?”

“I… I was in the deadlights. Bev said she saw us all die. Why are you surprised?”

“No. No, Bev said she saw us all die outside of Derry if we didn’t fight It, you… you knew what was going to happen.” She realizes slowly, as the words fall out, that it's true. Richie wouldn’t have been able to react quickly enough to shove her off, just out of the deadlights, if she hadn’t known. Eddie had thought it was sloppy, she’d thought it was impulsive, but it hadn’t been. It was all too quick. She was wrong before when she thought it wasn't a calculated move.

Richie knew what to do because Richie had watched her die from it; Richie knew what was probably going to happen, she just didn’t care.

A calculated gamble.

Holy fucking shit.

“Rich-”

“It's fine.”

“It’s not.”

‘Hello? You paged downstairs?’ A voice crackles out of the little button’s intercom, making both of them jump. Eddie slowly lets go of the too tight grip she’d had on Richie’s hand, leaning over to press the button again and respond. She doesn’t break eye contact with Richie, who, in all honesty, really is blind enough that she might not even be aware they’re making eye contact.

“Yeah… yeah I did, Rachel Tozier’s currently awake in room 203.” Richie’s whole face pinches up at the use of her full name, but Eddie can’t currently find it in herself to tease her for it.

‘We’ll send the next available nurse up soon.’

“Thank you.” She takes her finger off the button and flops back into her chair, “We’re not done talking about this.”

“What if we were, though.” Richie groans shoving both her hands against her face and letting out a semi-pained whine that Eddie’s worried is real but isn’t sure, after her stupid little temper tantrum, if she’s allowed to ask after it.

“Look, Rich, I’m.. I’m sorry.” And she is.

Eddie’s never been a fan of apologies, they never feel genuine, she hates the idea of having to forgive someone you didn’t actually forgive, and above all of that, Eddie just fucking hates the concept of having to apologize herself. But right now she feels so sorry she kind of has to say something; what kind of fucking shit head yells at their friend who was just comatose.

“You don’t have to apologize, I was being an asshole.”

“You literally were not.” She wasn’t. She was too busy waking up from almost dying. Eddie was the asshole.

“I’m sure I could have been less of one though.”

“You get a pass, you're in a hospital bed.”

“Glad to hear it.” Richie snorts, letting herself crumple back into her pillows and turn a soft smile in Eddie’s direction. She hadn’t noticed she was holding herself up until she fell and it makes the part of Eddie that's slowly rotting into a pool of guilt burn.

“Thank you.” Richie sits up a little, startled, before falling back again, still squinting at her.

“What?”

“I… I’m still pissed at you for it, but thanks for saving me.”

She lets out a gentle oh, extending her arm a bit and clenching and unclenching her fingers into a little, grabby fist until Eddie gets the memo and takes her hand again.

She barely wraps her fingers around it this time, achingly gentle like she’s scared Richie’s going to break under her. She should have been that gentle before.

“Anytime, Spaghetti.” Part of her wants to argue that she should absolutely not promise to put her own life at risk for Eddie’s ever again, actually, so ‘anytime’ was the wrong fucking answer; but she doesn’t. 

There is a time and a place for that and it really isn’t now.

“Don’t call me that.” She says instead, softer than she thinks she ever really has and Richie chokes out a laugh, squeezing tight around her palm. She wonders if Richie’s noticed the scars are gone, if she should bother telling her or let her find out on her own.

She decisively keeps her mouth shut, squeezing back, (time and place), and they sit like that until the nurse comes.

#this got so LONG #fem reddie #tw hospital #tw death mention #fic

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Read into Me Chapter 5: Romeo and Juliet

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Words: 2,955

Warnings: Swearing, slut shaming, bullying mention

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @wolfish-willow​ @scoopsohboi​ @herre-gud-nej​ @clockworkballerina​ @maddie1504​ @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary​ @banjino-in-the-hole @buckysarge​ @wildcvltre​ @stanleyyelnatsiii​ @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5​ @peterparxour @alwaysstressedout @linkispink1995​ @asharpkniffe​ @a-big-ball-of-idk​ @used-avocado​ @mochminnie​ @sledgy14​ @the-creative-lie​ @yall-wildin-like-siriusly​ @ggclarissa​

After that afternoon, you spent practically every day after school with Steve, either in his bedroom or the library. It was weirdly nice. You didn’t always talk; mostly you worked in silence, Steve answering English questions or doing work for other classes and you doodling. You’d finished the sketch of Steve you’d started in his bedroom the same night you’d started it. You were actually quite proud of it; you’d managed to get the shadows on his face to make his face look hollow and strange, not beautiful like it usually appeared. And yes, you were comfortable with calling him beautiful. You found a lot of your subjects beautiful, they all fit into an easy collection of strong, attractive faces that could be found in Hawkins. Hawkins Most Beautiful: the collections of portraits labelled themselves.

Steve called you fairly often as well; usually on the days when you didn’t meet up he’d call so he’d have someone to keep him company as he worked. He seemed lonely to you. From your conversations, you learned little of his supposed friends, but you learned a fair bit about his family. Both his parents were rarely home. His father worked in the city and kept an apartment there, keeping him as far away from home as possible most of the time. His mother was home more often, but kept her hours in certain places, leaving him home alone most of the time. So it seemed, he was ignored past the age of twelve. You sympathized with that, your own parents weren’t exactly present, albeit for different reasons. He asked you a lot about Samantha, which didn’t bother you; you could talk about her far more than you could yourself.

“I can’t honestly say that I even really know her…” Steve laughed. You were sat in his bedroom one evening, the sun setting in creamy red swirls, ominous strawberry pieces in homemade ice cream. Sweet and yet worrying for reasons beyond you for the time being. You were sat at his desk, leaning back in his desk chair, turning left and right. Steve was sprawled out on his mattress, feet kicking beyond him casually, his papers spread out in front of him.

“Yeah, she doesn’t really associate with some of your friends. Tina isn’t really our biggest fan…” you replied, smiling softly. The memory of Samantha dumping a miniature carton of chocolate milk on her head in the seventh grade flashed through your mind, her shrill screech making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah? What’s up her ass?” Steve asked, turning onto his side to look at you fully. He looked incredibly posed and uncomfortable, his head placed in his palm and his ankles stacked neatly one on top of the other.

“They used to be best friends, before I showed up. Once I was on the scene, Tina decided that I was someone to bully and Samantha decided that she wanted to be my friend. They fell out because of it and Tina started bothering both of us. She stopped once we were in middle school.” You explained, pulling one of your knees to your chest.

“Tina’s a bitch…” Steve muttered, shaking his head solemnly.

“She’s got such a thing for you.” You chuckled, watching as his face coloured. You continued “Vicki too…they want you so bad.”

“How’d you know?” Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. His face was still pink, it was almost adorable.

“Oh my god, they spend every class with their heads so far up your ass!” you linked your fingers together and pulled them under your chin. You batted your lashes at him with wide eyes, starting into an imitation of Tina “Oh…Stevie, tell me more about your basketball game…oh Stevie you’re soooo strong!”

Steve pulled the pillow from the head of his bed, throwing it at your head. “Oh shut up!” he groaned. You caught the pillow, chucking it back at him, smacking him square in the face.

Steve was great to hang out with. But that sort of friendship didn’t seem to transition outside the privacy of his bedroom. In school, the rules of social interaction began again. Steve returned to the arms of Tommy H and Carol, whose attentions flip between him and Billy Hargrove, and Samantha kept you busy with her questions, her arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly into your side. And every time you passed Steve, she cracked a joke in your ear that turned you beet red.

In truth, it was clear that Samantha did not believe you when you told her that nothing was going on between the two of you. She had already decided that the pair of you were in some sort of torrid affair of Shakespearian depths. She seemed to earnestly believe that it was some secret, clandestine romance was happening behind closed doors. You didn’t really understand what she was imagining; it didn’t make sense to you. Steve was far too obviously interested in other people to be doing anything with you. You tried to point out all the girls who hung off his arm whenever she tried to embarrass you about it, but she didn’t see it.

“What you’re missing,” she said through a massive bite of cafeteria shepherd’s pie “Is that all those girls pay attention to him, but he doesn’t pay attention to them.”

“If we were having an affair, don’t you think that I would tell you about it? I tell you everything anyway.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at her.

“You didn’t tell me about Byers until I weaseled it out of you. That’s what I’m doing right now.” Samantha replied with a shrug, mushing her meal together with her plastic fork until it was a disgusting shade of brown, golden corn accenting the pile.

Talking about Jonathan Byers wasn’t fair and she knew it. In short, there was nothing to talk about. You’d had a small, teeny tiny practically nonexistent crush on the boy a year prior, but it was very clear that he didn’t like you back. Samantha had gone to Tina’s party in October, right as your crush was subsiding, and she’d told you that he was all over Nancy Wheeler. You’d had your suspicions about it, but hearing that he’d gone after someone else’s girlfriend and rejected you along the way hurt. Even though you weren’t interested, it still hurt. Samantha was still annoyed that you hadn’t told her about it until it was over, and since it was the only source of knowledge she had on your comatose love life, she brought it up all the time, much to your chagrin.

“All I do with him is sit in his room and help him study. And when I say help him study, I mean literally help him study, we do the chapter studies together and discuss the stupid book.” You said. That wasn’t the whole story; you talked a lot about life and listened to music. You were confident in saying that you were friends by now. You’d almost met his mother twice, both times in passing, and that seemed pretty important to friendships, when their family knew who you were. Still, it didn’t break into school. Steve stayed with his clique and while you tried to stray from yours, Carol or Tina would always scare you off before you spent too much time with Steve. It didn’t take much to scare you, a mere gaze could send you packing, and those two had been mastering the annoyed sneer since the fifth grade.

“Yeah, well you don’t see what I see…” Samantha muttered, turning her attention away from you and onto the loud clique at the centre of the room. Billy Hargrove was show boating, as usual, with Tina and Macy practically drooling onto their lunch trays. Vicki was trying to get Steve’s attention, her thin, spidery fingers gripping onto his wrists, speaking animatedly into his ear. Steve wasn’t facing her though; his whole body was turned away from her, and directly towards your table. Samantha noticed how he watched where you went, it’s why she thoroughly believed that something was going on beyond the surface, something even you might not realize. She knew what a person looked like when they were love struck. Often times, from the outside, it was easier to see when someone was in love with someone else before she could catch onto who actually liked her. She’d watched the women she yearned for fall in love with boring, lame men enough times to have mastered the signs of how men fall for girls. And Steve showed all the non-verbal signs. She couldn’t get a full read on you yet though.

Tommy had caught onto to Steve’s strange behaviour just as fast as Samantha had, although he wasn’t nearly as impressed. You were simply not worth the effort. Not by a long shot. You were fucking lame-never at the parties, never at dances, never at the lake on the weekends. And he knew you had money, you could afford to do all those things, you were just too much of a pussy to show your face. That was fucking pathetic! He knew his friend better than anyone else and a chick who couldn’t hang was not the girl for him. Steve liked fun girls, girls who could turn up for a last minute thing and not be weird about it. Nancy Wheeler was the farthest Steve needed to go on the preppy nerd scale, and that bitch ended up being a massive slut! Like nobody expected that shit. But Tommy knew that you didn’t have any surprises up your sleeves. Despite the fact that you never talked, he knew that you were plain about who you were. Everything was on the surface, and what he saw was not worth his friend’s time.

“Steve, buddy, I’m gonna go get another milk, walk with me.” Tommy motioned him over. Steve followed blindly, if only to get Vicki’s cold, clammy hand off him. Tommy had seen The Godfather one too many times and seemed to believe that he was some sort of small town mob boss, but Steve didn’t really mind following along with him flights of fancy. Usually they were pretty funny.

Tommy wrapped an arm around his taller friend’s shoulders, lowering his voice from the onlooker’s ears. “Listen, buddy, you gotta tell me what’s going up with that Y/N chick I mean you just keep staring at her it’s freaking weird, dude.”

“Y/N? She’s my writing partner for Lawrence’s class, she’s cool…” Steve replied, turning to catch your eye as they passed. He smiled at you, giving a short wave, which you returned with a small smile.

“She’s cool? That all?” Tommy pressed, stepping into the line and grabbing a carton of strawberry milk and the largest chocolate chip cookie in the basket. He unwrapped his arm from his shoulders, letting him go free for the first time in the conversation.

“Yeah, I mean she’s nice, what else do you want me to say?” Steve knew that was being a little defensive, but he didn’t like being questioned for his choices in friends or girls, he never questioned Tommy’s choices and he made the worst decisions most of the time. Carol was no prize and he didn’t say a word about her.

“You fucking her?” if Steve had had anything in his mouth, he would’ve spit it on the floor. Tommy didn’t even turn to look at him, paying the lunch lady in change.

“Jesus, dude, no.” Steve cried, recoiling from his friend. Tommy needed to get hit and while he didn’t have cause to do so yet, he firmly believed someone was going to do it soon.

“Hey, no need to freak out, it’s just a question.” Tommy pulled his friend back in, slapping his friend on the back. Instead of simply heading back to their lunch table, he pulled him to the side, standing next to the hot grab and go table, next to the cartons of fries.

“Now, the way I see it, you have something great going for you.” Tommy began, cracking open his milk and taking a long swig, leaving a milk film on his upper lip. “Vicki Clarke is a fucking babe and she’s begging for it! She’s all over your ass and she’s hot as hell! But you’re blowing it by spending all your time staring at some freak of nature instead. You could have a smoking hot babe at your beck and call, but you’re wasting your chances here, you see what I mean?”

“Not at all, dude.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, looking over his friend doubtfully.

“Look man, I’m just trying to set you up for success here. Because that girl,” Tommy pointed at you slyly “Is not interested. If she was, she’d be over here, acting like Vicki is. But she’s keeping herself planted at that table with that goth freakazoid.”

Steve had no idea what to say. He opened his mouth to speak, to deny having any feelings for you, but that wouldn’t mean shit if he kept watching you. And Tommy was right, there was a girl there who wanted to listen to whatever he said, who chased him down. Vicki was there and you weren’t. So he swallowed his words and went back to his table.

“Hey, Steve…” Vicki drawled. There was red lipstick on her teeth. Steve didn’t say anything about it. It didn’t make her ugly. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, letting her rest in the crook of his neck. Vicki seemed over the moon by it and it gave him something to focus on other than catching your attention.

Samantha frowned, turning her attention back to you. “What’s Steve’s opinion on Vicki Clarke?” she asked.

“He didn’t like when I told him that she had a thing for him, why?” you retorted, flipping through the college magazine in front of you. You still hadn’t chosen anywhere to apply and applications for the major schools were due in the winter and community colleges needed their applications in for the fall semester in by the end of June at the earliest.

“Well, he doesn’t seem embarrassed now.” Samantha hooked a thumb towards the couple. You looked once, narrowing your eye to scrutinize the pair.

“Eh, that seems about right…” you murmured. You wouldn’t deny that something about it hurt. But you ignored the pain until returning home from school. As always, you called before making any moves. It was the polite thing to do, even though Steve had made the plans to meet up with you after school the night before.

The phone was picked up after three rings. Steve’s car was in the driveway, not his mother’s, so you knew who would answer. “Hello?” his voice sounded anxious and breathy, maybe even annoyed.

“Steve-o, we still studying? You wanna go grab food at Hula Burger?” Steve had introduced you to the burger place in Carmel, a little mom and pop shop with the best Cajun fries in the county, at least in your opinion.

“Oh shit…” Steve muttered “Y/N I’m sorry I-I kind of made plans, can I take a rain check on the burgers?”

“Oh…yeah, sure I guess…some other time…” you said softly. You wouldn’t try to hide the disappointment in your voice. The pain you felt in the pit of your stomach returned with abundance, not exactly sore and angry pain, but more of a black hole opening up there.

“I gotta go, I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?” Steve asked. He was already running late. He was supposed to pick up Vicki in twenty minutes and he still needed to shower. He had genuinely forgotten about his plans with you and he felt like an ass for doing so. He did want to hang out with you, but a date was a good step after being decimated by Nancy. He wasn’t super into Vicki, but it was still exciting to go out with someone new.

“Sure…” you hung up after that. You stood from your bed, dropping your book bag at your feet. You were used to spending afternoons alone, that wasn’t strange to you. Just because you’d spent a few days with a boy didn’t mean that he was yours to hold back from his life. You could’ve pulled a fit and tried to make him hold true to his word, the way your mother used to act towards your father. But those memories made you sick, you didn’t like that behaviour. But you also didn’t like being cancelled on. It wasn’t a feeling you were used to, not from friends at least. Samantha never really cancelled on you, she always made sure to tell you when she was busy and not agree to plans. She’d never cancelled on you for a date, even when she was dating Keith the creep she always put your friendship on a different level than him. Of course, she wasn’t really into Keith, she came out like a week after they started dating and broke up with him after kissing Jessica Klein at a house party, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that Steve had ditched you and it made your heart hurt.

You couldn’t help but watch him run out of his front door and into his car. You watched it pull out of his driveway and out onto the road. It was clear to you now, Steve was more interested in passing English than he was in being your friend. Vicki Clarke was the girl to pay attention, no matter how he acted around you.

So why pretend like he was your friend at all?

#stranger things #stranger things 2 #stranger things 3 #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve x you #steve x reader #steve x y/n #steve x reader insert #steve harrington x reader insert #steve harrington headcanons #steve harrington hc #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington au #steve harrington aus #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #netflix #joe keery

[statticscribbles]

Misread: Dark

Summary: Kurtz/Reader; You start at Riverdale High and people get the wrong impression of you and Kurtz

You’re not surprised when your cousin Sam and your uncle are standing outside the fence. “Heyyyy Y/N. You have a good time at camp.” Sam winks and you roll your eyes stepping past the barbed wire fence of Centerville Correctional Center. “You got out early. We have time to grab breakfast before school if you want.” He smiles and you laugh nodding.

“I’d kill for a burger.” Sam holds his hands up. “You did according to the yard gossip right?” He barks laughing when you smack his shoulder. “I know, I know, it was a joke for Christ sake. We need to thank that lawyer by the way; what do you think we should give her?” You shrug. “I can think when I’ve had food.”

Sam’s decent enough not to comment on your clothes, what you had been brought in wearing; a painfully short skirt and an almost see through top. “You’ll have to change before school. Well at least grab a sweater or some shit. Pretty sure Kurtz left one in the car you can steal.” He nods to you and you tug over the half stack of pancakes he ordered. “Those are mine!” He smacks your hand and you pull one over drowning it in syrup as you push the rest of the plate over. “I think I might puke looking at that.” He snorts as you finish it, dipping the sausage into the leftover syrup. “I haven’t had anything besides prison eggs for breakfast for almost four months. I would drink that entire bottle if I wouldn’t puke from it.” Sam nods. “Come on then, school time, you’re gonna sugar crash if you have more of that shit.”

You weren’t surprised when Southside High shut down; although you were surprised both you and Sam had been transferred to Riverdale; he’d said something about the rest of the Ghoulies being in Greendale. You avoid walking with the other Southsider’s, who move from Pop’s; you avoid the buses and slip into Sam’s car. “You know he’s going to kill me right? For not telling him you’re in town.” Sam scowls as he pulls into the parking lot. You roll your eyes. “He won’t; he’ll be too distracted with me. Don’t worry. What class is he in now?” “English, you have math with me. Come on, I’m sure the teacher’s going to love you.” He smirks and you grip onto Sam’s arm. “Hey; you’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.” You nod settling next to him as the teacher isn’t in. No one moves to greet you but you tap Sam’s arm. “What?”

“Nobody here knows I got in trouble right?” He shrugs. “Most of them don’t know who you are. And really ‘trouble’ you could at least hint at the whole criminal vibe you’re oozing, you look like you rolled off a prison bus an hour ago.” He says as the teacher comes in and starts the lesson. You catch a few people looking at you, but you reason it’s either the fact you’re new or that it looks like all you’re wearing is an oversized hoodie.

“Lunch now; he usually sulks around the Serpent’s.” You nod and Sam’s hand tugs your shoulder. “He might not be to happy to see you.” You turn frowning at him. “Why?” “Because of what happened.” “I didn’t do anything!! He knows that!” You stomp your foot and Sam snorts rolling his eyes. You snarl shoving him, before he shoves you against the wall. “Try me Y/N. I dare you.” You see someone’s hand push against Sam’s shoulder and you’re confused as he lowers his arm.

“You’re new right?” The Serpent turns to you smiling. “Yes. Sorry about Sam, my cousin has a bit of a short temper; he hasn’t given you any trouble?” You ask. “No Kurtz is more trouble.”  He laughs half shrugging. “How?” You tilt your head and Sam smirks. “He tried to kill me. I’m Fangs, pleasure.” You nod side stepping Sam and Fangs. “Would you like a proper apology?” You ask Fangs as he walks with you and Sam towards where ever he eats lunch. You’ve already spotted Kurtz in the student lounge.

“I don’t get why you’re so uptight about the stupid rules, you’re not even the official leader you still have to-“ Kurtz trails off and you know he’s spotted you. “I heard you tried to kill him. What happened?” “No it wasn’t like that we were-“ “What happened?” Kurtz swallows you look unimpressed as he stays quiet. “I dropped him from the second floor.” “Did you apologize, at the least?” “No I-“ You arch an eyebrow and he swallows cringing. “I’m sorry Fangs.” “That’s not a proper one.” You arch your eyebrow again and he scowls, sighing as he stands, you whack at the back of his knee and he kneels after he stumbles, glaring at you as you nod to Fangs.

“Please forgive me. I’m sorry for trying to kill you.” Fangs nods as Kurtz stands, his hand brushing against yours. “I missed you.” He says and you roll your eyes as he pulls you into a hug, face against your neck. “I missed you too.” He sighs against you nodding, and you look expectantly at him. “Well who’re these Serpent’s you’ve cozied up with; I can’t just name them based on how they look like you used to.” You smirk as they narrow their eyes at Kurtz. “Ooh look it’s neck boy; you’re right he is tall enough to climb like a tree. Not bad looking either, you didn’t tell me they looked like a boy band.” “Sweet Pea.” He holds his hand out and you smile.

“Y/N, pleasure.” You name each of the serpents, they seem to take their nicknames in stride and welcome you into their group as Kurtz had been. You meet Jughead’s friends Archie and Veronica and his girlfriend Betty; as well as Josie and Kevin. You sit draped half on the chair half over Kurtz, his hand running through your hair. They watch you oddly and you assume it’s based on the fact you’re a ghoul. Kurtz smirks seeming to enjoy there discomfort and you wait for an explantation that doesn’t come. You notice his hands linger on you more when someone’s watching. You joke about him being a voyeur and Jughead visibly gags. You can’t help but laugh joining Kurtz in whatever odd game he’s playing with the Serpents. Your favourite is when Betty caught you kissing him and tripped over the trashcan when she tried to leave. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen her look so disgusted and it makes you dissolve into a fit of giggles every time you picture it.

“Y/N Walters.” You raise your hand, you can tell someone is watching you but you ignore it. “They’re siblings, I swear. I think Y/N took the fall or got transferred out or something to do with jail, but they’re siblings.” Betty hisses as you walk by. You try your best to keep a straight face, but you text Kurtz to let him know what his friends seem to think. He meets you outside, sliding into the back of Sam’s car with you. Sam glares fixing the mirror so you know he can see both of you. “You’ll have to tell them.”

“But it’ll be funny to watch them guess. I bet it’ll take a week.” “I’m still surprised they haven’t caught on, you think the rings would be a dead giveaway. I really think there’s only so many times they can catch us making out before it boils over.” “Well to be fair they’ve seen me wear mine for months without mentioning you.” “Ooh what about necklaces?” “No that’s too hard they’re Serpent’s remember, dumb as a sack of bricks.” Kurtz laughs. “Yeah they gotta be dumbasses to let you in.” You grin when he smacks your shoulder. “That’s it, no welcome home meal.” You laugh more. “And you knew I was coming today?” “Well you’re not going to be now.” “Will you two shut up about-“ Sam glares from the front seat. “You know what they say about people who get out of prison right Sam?” “I swear if you-“

“They’re incredibly sexually frustrated.” You have tears in your eyes at the disgust on Sam’s face. “She’s my cousin Kurtz, I don’t want to hear anything involving my cousin again.” “You do know she’s my wife right so we’ve-“ “Shut it!” Sam slams the breaks on and Kurtz gets shoved into the back of the front seat grumbling. “Fine, Y/N’s a god damn virgin, you happy?”

You’re not trying to hide it but still the panic that shoots through you when you hear some clear their throat is unavoidable. You know you weren’t being discreet, curled on Kurtz lap in the student lounge tongue in his mouth was about as public as you could get besides going at in the middle of class, which was something you had shot down when he suggested it. You shiver slightly watching as Jughead glares at the two of you. Kurtz nudges you behind him and you peer from around his shoulder, his arm snaking around your waist. “What Jones?”

“You two are related.” He states nodding and you can see the rest of the Serpents and his other friends gathering around. You roll your eyes. “We really taking advice from Mr. I’m dating my half sister?” Jughead narrows his eyes. “Charles shares one of our parents and-“ “He’s your sibling, so you’re dating your half-sibling. Not to mention didn’t your parents fuck when your dad was off being a serial killer?” You comment and both him and Betty glare. “We’re not actually siblings, unlike you two.” You assure them. “You two are brother and sister! You have the same last name, and you call your dad, well dad! The same dad!!”

“Kurtz do you want to tell them? I think they’d get a kick outta you saying it.” “Say what?” Jughead eyes Kurtz warily. “When I say dad, I mean my father in law.” “We’re not siblings, we’re married. You idiots” You chime in and everyone stares, as you hold up your ring, waving it slightly. The Serpent’s stare; turning to Kurtz. “You’re married!??!” “Yes? Why do you guys think I never dated anyone..” “You’re psycho! No one would want- Why? How would you even-“ “You go down to the court and sign the certificate? We both had parental permission; totally legal. Also I love her, it’s not that hard to think or do.” He shrugs at them and you loop your arm in his. “Why is that so surprising?” He asks and Jughead shrugs. Sweet Pea speaks up.

“Just never thought you’d find someone so well normal.” “Oh they don’t know; Sam was right.” “Right?” “I spent my summer in the Centerville Corrections Center. Wrong place, wrong time and all that.” you smile at them and they hesitate. “Why was it the wrong place at the wrong time.” One of them asks. You turn to Kurtz and he shrugs. “Your call.”

“I used to be a runner, not track, I got caught up on a pretty big job near Greendale, didn’t make it out at the right time is all.” “So you went to jail?” Jughead states and you nod. “Basically. I mean they let me out pretty quick, just gave me tons of community service. Which I still have to do, so that’s how I’m spending my summers.” “Y/N; you can’t just tell them that. The full story.” You glare rolling your eyes. “I was in the wrong place and the wrong time, with a knife; and one of the other runners got stabbed at the same time, it was a really weird coincidence.” “Oh my god?” “Yeah I get it I stabbed someone and-“ “You married Kurtz, like you actually chose to marry him? Him of all people.” “You’re insulting me in front of my wife after she just admitted she stabbed someone? Jesus the Serpent are dumb as fuck.”

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#kurtz x y/n #kurtz x you #kurtz x reader #kurtz riverdale #kurtz #jonathan whitesell #jonathan whitsell imagine #riverdale #riverdale request #riverdale reader insert #riverdale imagine #stattic

[kpoptrassshhh]

Pebbles & Stones

Part of the EXO ongoing series- 1976

Genre: SkaterAU! X HighSchoolAU!

Rating: (PG-13) (M-some parts)

Pairing: SkaterGirl!FemReader X SkaterBoy!Baekhyun

Setting: California, 1976

Summary: Sarcastic. Rude. Down-to-Earth. Blunt. Just a few of the words people would use to describe you. People seem to think only two things of you. One, you’re a very intimidating person. Two, you and your skateboard are attached to each other. Skating is the only thing that has truly ever brought you happiness, besides your best friend Asia. Well, it was the only thing that brought you happiness. Until a man by the name of Byun Baekhyun decided to hop into your life. The only thing you keep telling yourself? He’s damn lucky he skates.

Warnings: teenage smoking and drinking (wild i know)

“He’s gonna fucking kill us,” Asia spits at you, speed walking down the hallway towards Mr. Kims English class. This is the third time you both have been late this week. 

“Hey, would you relax? We’ve got a great reason,” you say, rolling by her on your new Sector 9, longboard cruiser. 

“Oh yeah! Let’s just walk in there in front of the whole class and say, ‘I’m so sorry we’re late Mr. Kim! Y/N got pissed last night and instead of chilling out and listening to music like I told her to, she decided to break her skateboard for the second time this week, so we had to run to the strip mall before school so she didn’t have a mental breakdown without holding her fucking board!’” she sarcastically screams.

“It’s the truth,” you say shrugging, stepping off the board and kicking it into your hand as you hear a stressed sigh come from your best friend of six years. 

“I give up. Lord, if you can hear me, I. Give. Up. With. This. Child.” she says exasperatedly, looking up to the ceiling with her hands flying up along with her shoulders.

“Yeah, you said that six years ago too. Annndd he still hasn't taken me from your life,” you say smartly, smirking at her as she stares straight daggers at you. 

“Come on, let’s just get this over with,” she says defeatedly, walking up the classroom door and knocking loudly.

Mr. Kim glances at us through the window of the door with a disappointed and somewhat annoyed expression. He walks over to the door, unlocks it and stands in front of the entrance to the room. 

“There better be a good reason as to why you two have been late for my class for the THIRD time this week,” he says in a booming voice that would make almost anyone cower in fear. But not you.

“What up Mr. K? You see what happened was-” you begin but are abruptly cut off by the tall man standing in front of you, waving his hand dismissively. 

“I don't care. I’ve had enough of this, both of you have detention this afternoon,” he states plainly, walking to his desk and pulling out a pink slip, writing both of our names on our on respective slip. 

“Both you take your seat,” he demands. 

Asia practically runs to her desk while you roll your eyes and saunter over to yours, throwing your book bag onto the ground and setting your board down gently before looking out the large window beside you. 

It’s a nice day. Sun shining, blue sky, a cloud or two here and there. It’s a great day to go skating. Except, you’re stuck in a prison where you’re told how to think and act for eight hours a day. You wouldn’t say you hate school exactly. But if you had to choose between school and never skating again, you’d most likely choose the latter. 

Just as you’re about to zone out, you see an unfamiliar car pull up into one of the parking spots in the front of the campus. Squinting slightly, you see two men emerge from said car. 

The driver is tall and slim with long, bright red hair and yellow tinted sunglasses. He has on a very loud shirt, that looks to be silk, paired with distressed light blue skinny jeans and some off-white converse. 

The other guy is much taller than his friend but shares the same slim stature. His hair is a somewhat short and colored a light pink. He wears a tie-dye Bob Marley shirt under a Hawaiian styled button down, paired with dark blue skinny jeans and black combat boots. 

You watch as they make their way to the office and then disappear out of sight as they walk into the building. Sighing, you turn your head back to the front of the room, somewhat listening to the boring lecture from your English teacher. 

An hour goes by sluggishly and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, the bell for free period rings and you silently start thanking all the deities for ending your suffering. Gathering your things from the floor, you slip your book bag over both shoulders and take your board into your hand, walking out of the room and leaning against the lockers outside the classroom, waiting for Asia to also walk out. 

“You just had to have that damn skateboard,” she huffs, starting down the hallway full of other teenagers. 

“Hey, lay off. It’s probably the nicest thing I’ve ever owned,” you say in defense, walking a little ahead of her, turning around and starting to walk backwards so you can talk to her face-to-face. 

“Well, thanks to your new prized possession, we have detention,” she scolds, holding up the bright pink slip of paper. 

“Then let’s ditch,” you deadpan, watching as her face contorts into the face you know all too well. 

Her ‘I can’t believe you just said what you said and we’re probably gonna end up doing it anyway’ face. 

“We’re gonna get in even more trouble!” she shouts, throwing her hands into the air for probably the seventh time this morning.

“We’ll be fine. Don’t you trust me?” you ask, shooting her your best puppy dog eyes. 

“No, not at all,” she says, making you laugh loudly.

Turning back around, you’re met with the hard chest of a stranger. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you apologize, looking down and then back up to the stranger. 

Your eyes widen at who it is. The man and his friend that you saw this morning walking into the office. He shoots you a blinding white smile, and lets a chuckle erupt from his throat. 

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it,” he says in the most gorgeous voice you’ve ever had the pleasure of being graced with. 

Shaking your head slightly, you snap out of whatever trance you found yourself slipping into. You hear footsteps behind you and suddenly a low voice speaks.

“Oh, cool, you met Y/N,” Kyungsoo says as the rest of the boys are following closely behind him. 

“Oh! So you’re the Y/N everyone has been talking about!” the pink headed man speaks up, sounding somewhat surprised.

“Guilty as charged,” you nod, taking a step back and standing beside Asia. 

“Y/N, Asia, this is Chanyeol and Baekhyun,” Jongin introduces with a slight snicker which is suddenly hushed as Sehun lightly elbows him in the gut. 

“That’s all well and cool, but Y/N and I have to go,” Asia says, taking you by the arm and dragging you with her.

“What did she do this time?” Jongin asks, receiving a glare from you and another gut hit, this time from Kyungsoo. 

“She got us detention because she just had to have a new skateboard,” she snaps.

You roll your eyes and retort, “longboard, thank you.”  

She grimaces and you can’t help but giggle. 

“Come on! I told you, we can just ditch. It’s easy, plus Coach Anderson doesn’t even take roll anymore. It’s foolproof,” you explain as her pace slows once reaching the courtyard. 

She loosens her grip on your arm, allowing you to slide out of her hand. Taking your other hand, you rub softly on the spot which was attacked. 

“Come on, let’s just go get some lunch and hang out. We don’t have to be back until two,” you offer. 

At the mention of food, everyones eyes light up in happiness. 

“Yeah! Let’s go, I’m starving,” Jongin whines.

“Didn’t you just eat last period?” Jongdae questions, watching as Jongin turns to him and retorts, “that was just a snack!”

Laughing at the interaction, you start walking towards the front parking lot, hearing footsteps behind you and listening to Asia talk about some stupid English project you couldn’t be bothered to listen about in class. 

Funnily enough, you all got incredibly lucky your senior year of high school, as all of you are parked next to each other. 

You and Asia hop into your yellow 1970 Pontiac GTO Judge, as Kyungsoo and Junmyeon get into Kyungsoo’s black 1970 Chevy Chevelle SS 454. Minseok and Jongdae duck into Minseok’s Grey 1973 Plymouth Duster while Jongin and Sehun sit inside Jongin’s red 1970 Chevy Camaro.

Looking down a few cars, you see Chanyeol and Baekhyun climb into, what you assume is Baekhyuns, orange 1970 Ford Mustang Convertible. 

Turning the key of your car, the engine roars to life and you slip on a pair of your favorite ray-ban sunglasses before turning to Kyungsoo and yelling out the window, “Meet at The Depot!” 

With a nod, he turns to tell the others, but you’re already peeling out of the parking lot onto the main road, headed for the best diner in town.

© Kpoptrassshhh, 2020. Do not copy or repost without permission.

#baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #baekhyun au #exo au #baekhyun smut #exo smut

[seawitchkaraoke]

Sketch in Shadows

(ao3 link in the notes)

This whole idea was stupid. It was way too early, barely even afternoon, she should be in bed and instead, here she was, sitting at a too small desk on an uncomfortable chair, listening to this human guy talking about some other long dead human guy, who had apparently been really good at drawing sunflowers.

The whole thing had been Toby‘s idea – of course. She‘d suggested that going to university would help her learn about the modern world and at the same time continue the „figure out what you actually like and what your mom made you like“ thing Raysel and her had going on and August had agreed, because she was bored, and she didn‘t have anything else to do and hey it might be an adventure, except this time without the getting lost for a hundred years part. So she‘d looked up some classes that sounded interesting and snuck out way too early, letting Raysel sleep who had wisely refused the education plan.

She had been bored. Somehow, she was even more bored now; she‘d really thought that art history would include a little more art and a little less life stories of dead humans.

August leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for just a second, sighing. She could leave anytime, it‘s not like she‘d signed up for anything or like she was actually planning on getting a degree.

She opened her eyes again.

There was a cat on her desk.

She stared. The cat stared back.

August blinked. The cat did not. It also didn‘t disappear, which would have been convenient.

„Um.“ said August, intelligently „I kinda need that desk. You‘re sitting on my things“

The cat said nothing.

August sighed. „Fine. I wasn‘t taking notes anyway, but once the class is over you have to let me get my stuff“ She reached out, petting the cat behind the ears. It was very fluffy, with long grey and white fur, making it look almost silver. It was a beautiful cat.

August leaned back, her hand still buried in the cat‘s fur, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn‘t wait to get out of here, beautiful cat or not.

The air smelled of paper and dust and human sweat and the violets and dry hay of the Daoine Sidhe changeling in the second row and the peppermint and burning walnut wood of the Cait Sidhe in front of -

She yanked her hand back so fast, she almost overbalanced, as she stared at the not at all normal cat in front of her.

The cat blinked, slowly, deliberately. August did not. She stared.

„You‘re Cait Sidhe! What are you- never mind, I don‘t care what you‘re doing here, why are you on my things?“

The Cait Sidhe, still, did not say anything. Of course not. They couldn‘t exactly transform back into a form capable of the English language in the middle of a lecture hall after all. They just looked at her with big purple eyes.

Right. Mortal cats didn‘t have purple eyes. She really must be more tired than she‘d thought.

„Ugh fine! Just give me my stuff back once the class is over okay? And then I can go home and tell my sister this was a stupid idea and you can do, whatever it is Cait Sidhe do all day“

The cat, again, said nothing, just looked at her out of big purple eyes that really should have ticked her off earlier that this was not a mortal cat.

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

The cat‘s name, it turned out, was Zircon and they were part of the Court of Golden Cats (which was ironic considering how silver they were), though they mostly stayed at the university, helping out stressed students and making sure none of the faerie brides were stirring up trouble. They told August all this in the span of the few minutes it took to walk back to the carpark, where Quentin would hopefully be waiting with the car.

„That‘s all great but it doesn‘t explain why you were sitting on my things. I‘m not planning to ‚stir up trouble‘ as you said, I‘m just here because my stupid sister convinced me that university might be fun and not boring“

„Excuse me, you find me boring? And that, when I was trying so hard to entertain you, I don‘t know whether to be hurt or insulted“ they smirked, walking backwards, facing August „you might say you don‘t want to stir up any trouble, but I always check out the new fae on campus just to make sure. And you‘re not exactly just any random fae, August Torquill, you said your name was? I met your sister, though I doubt she realized, she was covered in quite a lot of blood at the time. More importantly I heard what your mother did to the king of dreaming cats to force your sister to bring you home. So I hope you can forgive me, if I need to make my own picture of whether you‘ll stir up trouble“

„Great so you‘ll judge me because of what my mother did? You just said yourself I wasn‘t there for that! I was the one who made her give Tybalt and Jazz back, but no one ever seems to remember that”

That was the wrong thing to say. Zircon hissed and was suddenly too close to her face, the smell of peppermint and burning walnut wood welling up all around them „you want a price for doing the bare minimum? For not being as horrible as your mother? Should I get you a medal?“

August paled, “No! I…. I’m sorry, I’m just really exhausted and tired of people looking at me and only seeing my mother”

Zircon stopped at that, stepping back, slightly „Okay. I won‘t judge you by your mother‘s actions but I know how dangerous your family is, I‘m not so stupid to think you wouldn‘t be as well.“ They looked at August, smiling, showing their far too sharp teeth „you‘re welcome to continue classes here if you decide it isn‘t too boring after all. But this university is mine as much as it is anyone‘s and if I think that you are going to cause anyone here harm either by yourself or by bringing your cursed mother down on us, I will not hesitate to rip you apart. I‘ve heard how fast your sister heals, so I‘m sure I wouldn‘t need to worry about breaking Oberon‘s law“

They stepped back and grinned, teeth having lost their inhuman sharpness and said, almost joyfully „If you‘re interested in art but not the ‚boring‘ stories about dead human artists, you might want to check out some of the more practical classes, I‘m sure you‘d enjoy them“

With that, they sauntered around a corner and a moment later a long haired silver cat with bright purple eyes ran off over the yard.

Well. That could have gone better.

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

August dropped in the passenger‘s seat of the car, groaning. She just wanted to go home and sleep some more and not deal with any stupid cats anymore.

Quentin shot her a sidelong look, as he drew out of the parking spot „So who was that person you were talking to? Cait Sidhe?“

„Their name is Zircon and yeah they‘re Cait Sidhe. They don‘t like me on account of my mother being the worst, they threatened me in case I was planning to start trouble for ‚their‘ university and they told me to try practical drawing classes since art history was boring“

Quentin blinked. That seemed to be the motto of today. „Huh. Well, I can‘t say I can fault them for disliking your mother-“ „Who could“, August muttered, „-but practical drawing classes might be a good idea if art history was too theoretical?“

„ Less theoretical, more just talking about the life and death of some human artist who was really good at sunflowers or whatever“

„Van Gogh?“

„Yes him. And I‘m sure that‘s interesting for the humans, but I wanted to hear about history of art, not history of dead artists“, she sighed, sinking deeper into the car seat „This whole thing was a stupid idea, I can learn about art by practicing, I don‘t need classes, especially not at a university with a cat who hates me“

Quentin looked at her for a second, then turned back to the road, „You know Toby used to be convinced Tybalt hated her. It was all she ever talked about“, he smirked, „so… you know how that ended“

„I‘m not Toby, I‘m not going to fuck a cat!“, Quentin shot her a look, “sorry, sorry I know I shouldn’t say it like that but still. I’m not gonna have sex with the first person I meet who isn’t related to me or a teenager, Cait Sidhe or not”

Privately, she thought she really didn‘t think she wanted to have sex with anyone, cat or no, but that wasn‘t something to discuss with her sister‘s teenaged squire

„and anyway, I‘m not going to see them again, I‘m not going back“

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

Two weeks later, August was once again standing in Berkeley, this time with art supplies slung over her shoulder and at a more reasonable hour – thank Oberon for evening classes. She hadn’t wanted to come back, but while going shopping with Raysel and occasionally May was fun and drawing on the giant chalkboard in Raysel and her shared room was enjoyable and occasionally incredibly cathartic, she’d been hanging around Raysel for months now and as much as she was learning to love her cousin, occasionally she needed some time away from her and away from the house that had a far too high average number of screaming teenagers in residence than August was entirely comfortable with.

So here she was, stepping out of Walther’s office, that Chelsea had opened a portal to – after calling first, to make sure Jack or some other mortal grad student wasn’t in – waving goodbye to the alchemist, who was working on some project or other in between his classes, and walking over to the art building.

She had barely set her things down, and there they were, a silver cat, with ridiculously fluffy fur and clearly unnatural purple eyes. August wondered briefly if any of the veterinary or biology students had ever tried to catch and study them; it should really be obvious to them that those eyes weren’t mortal. Then again, humans could dismiss a lot of things and would probably not jump straight from “cat with purple eyes” to “fae are real and walk among us”. Still it seemed irresponsible.

Irresponsible or not, they were strolling in casually, looping around students’ legs who cooed and occasionally bent down to pet them. August smoothed out her face, it wouldn’t do to be caught glowering at the campus cat, that would just make her stand out and not in a good way.

She shrugged out of her denim jacket – full of patches and glued on rhinestones and metal studs, because it turned out she liked being able to customize her own clothing however she wished – and sat in her chair. The teacher called the room to silence: “Welcome everyone! I’m sure Zaddy here is very happy to have your attention but I’ll need you to focus on me now. My name is Professor Smith and today we’re gonna learn how to draw a still life – though when we get to animals, you’ll be free to focus on Zaddy all lesson long….”

She kept talking, explaining the concept of a still life – apparently a drawing of unmoving inanimate objects – and setting down various things for them to use as models. August did her best to ignore Zircon – who had stalked over to her and was now sitting on a nearby shelf full of art supplies, yawning and showing off all their teeth – and listened intently to the teacher, already thinking on which of the objects she would like to draw most. There was a vase of flowers, though thankfully no roses, making the decision easy enough.

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

After the lesson ended, August packed up her half finished drawing and walked outside. Zircon had left at some point during the lesson, but she didn’t worry about them, if they wanted to talk, they’d find her before she called Chelsea and left, if not, all the better for her. She did not want to talk to the cat. If they had decided to leave her alone, that was exactly what she wanted anyway.

No such luck. She turned the corner and there they were, leaning against a wall, human disguise firmly in place. Their eyes were a dark blue in this form, their fluffy hair, that would surely be striped silver, grey and white in their true from, simply black. They looked good, of course, it would be silly to choose a human disguise that made them look bad, and yet August suddenly really wanted to know what they looked like in truth.

She pushed the thought away just as Zircon pushed off the wall and fell into step beside her

“I can’t say, it isn’t a delight to see you again, but I thought you’d said you found this place “boring” and didn’t wish to return?”

“Yes, and I thought you might not bother me with a speech today, but I guess we’re all mistaken sometimes. Also, you can drop the pretentious speech, if you’ve been living at this university for as long as you implied, there’s no way you speak like that”

Zircon laughed at that, “Ah but it’s that or speak in memes, which might at best confuse and at worst horrify you. I would have thought you’d prefer this sort of speech, after all as far as I know, you haven’t been living in the mortal world much?”

“Right because you’d know how much exposure to the mortal world I’ve had. I live with an average of 2 to 4 teenagers, I pick things up. Anyway, what do you want? I already told you I’m not here to make trouble.” August inwardly prepared herself for another round of threats. Maybe she should just find another university to attend; true Berkeley was neutral territory and therefore convenient but surely she could figure something out.

Zircon shock their head: “I know, and I already warned you what would happen if you changed your mind on that. As far as I’m concerned we’re good; no, I am here to tell you the same thing I tell every fae student here and to ask you a question that’s just for you”

August frowned “okay? And what would that be?”

“First, I’ve been taking care of this university for a long time. I protect and help the students, both mortal and not and in return no one minds when I steal some snacks from the cafeteria or curl up in someone’s office. That means if you’re planning to attend regularly, I’ll be happy to help you too. You’re unlikely to need this, but if you ever need a place to sleep or a warm meal, just find me and I’ll help you. If you need advice on what classes to take or where the best spots are to get someone to teleport you out of here, if you want somewhere closer to the art building than Professor Davies’ office, I’ll be happy to give suggestions.”

“And you offer this to everyone?”

“Yes, although obviously I can’t just say it to the humans. With them I have to be a little more subtle, but I help them all the same”

“I’m sorry but aren’t Cait Sidhe supposed to, I don’t know, keep to the court of cats and run around chasing rats all day or something? Tybalt is going to have to give up being king when he marries Toby, because it’s a conflict of interest, how is taking care of an entire university not a conflict of interest?”, she stopped herself, “um, no offense or anything.”

Zircon laughed lightly: “ah, see Tybalt is a king and I am just a normal Cait Sidhe who finds that “chasing after rats” all day gets old quickly”

August reddened in embarrassment “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m sorry, I’m still…. I’m still unlearning a lot of the things my mom taught me”, this was getting uncomfortable, “um, but you said you had a question?”

“Yes!”, Zircon grinned, “would you like to go for coffee?”

Wait what?

“Excuse me?!”

“I asked if you would like to go for coffee. Or tea if you prefer, of course.”

“Caffeine doesn’t work on me, so I would prefer tea actually, or hot chocolate, but that’s not the point-  are you asking me on a date?! Last time we talked you threatened to rip me apart!”

“True and you came back here anyway and didn’t try to hurt me or set your mother or your sister on me. You’re the daughter of a firstborn but you attend art classes at a human university and wear a denim jacket with patches and stuts and glitter and you haven’t called me a beast or vermin even once. You’re intriguing and I’d like to get to know you better. Call it a date, if you like, or a call it just a friendly chat between acquaintances”, they smiled, this time almost softly and August knew she would say yes, “or call it nothing at all and decide afterwards what it was. Now I ask again, though slightly amended: Would you like to grab a hot chocolate?”

The night had barely started, and Chelsea wouldn’t mind picking her up later – it wasn’t like it would take her much time after all. And Toby always said she should meet more people.

“Yes” August said, a smile of her own forming on her face, “I think I’d like that. Just one condition”

“And what’s that?”

“We go somewhere run by fae if there is such a place around here. If were gonna get to know each other better, I want to see your actual face”

Zircon smiled.

#october daye #august torquill #fanfiction #nonbinary character #asexual character #yeah i'm a fanfic writer now i guess #lmao two days ago i was still like 'nooo i don't write' #anyway meet Zircon! they're my oc and i love them very much #please let me know what you think?

[goalcaufield]

treat you like a goddess - jack hughes (part one)

summary: moving in the beginning of your senior year isn’t exactly the easiest thing. on your first day, you’re met with abby brien who immediately takes you under her wing and introduces you to her friends. from there on it might as well be history, especially when golden boy jack hughes is already trying to make a move. 

“okay, i gotta ask, do you know where you’re going?”

you look up from the computer paper that has your schedule printed on it to see a blonde girl standing right in front of you. you feel your cheeks heat up and you quickly fold the paper back up. “if i’m being honest, no, i don’t.”

the girl chuckles, “alright, let me see your schedule. i’ll show you around.” you eagerly hand her the paper and she scans it, a smile forming on her lips. “we’ve got english, history, study hall and lunch together!”

“oh thank god. i’m y/n, by the way.”

“abby! it’s nice to meet you. we can walk to our classes together, and i can show you where you need to go,” abby says and you can’t help but smile gratefully at her. 

“thank you so much, you’ve got no idea how much this means to me.” 

“it’s no problem at all, don’t worry about it.” you and abby walk side by side with abby leading the way to your first class of the day: history.

you manage to get through history with no road bumps, along with photography class and your study hall. that meant it was finally time to head down to the cafeteria. when you walk down to the cafeteria you can’t help but feel like you’ve known abby your entire life. she’s so incredibly friendly it’s unbelievable - no one from home was nowhere near as sweet as she was. 

“so i sit with my boyfriend, cole, and then his best friends and teammates. i’ll introduce you when we get there. they’re a bit of a handful, especially trevor and jack, but i think you’ll like them,” abby says offering you a friendly smile. you can’t help but return it.

“trust me, at this point i’m open to becoming friends with just about anyone. i’m just glad you decided to say something to me, abby. it means a lot.”

abby and you walk towards the back of the cafeteria, where you approach a table that was occupied by a ton of teenage boys and a few girls. one of the boys is facing you and abby as you walk, and he nudges the boy next to him to get his attention. your eyes widen slightly. having an older brother that played hockey of course you know exactly who that boy is. you can see him mumble a, ‘whos that?’ which only makes you roll your eyes. 

“hey guys!” abby grins, standing behind one of the boys and placing one of her hands on his shoulders. she uses her free hand to gesture towards you. “this is y/n, she’s new. i offered to let her sit with us if that’s okay with you all.”

“fine by me,” the blue eyed boy named jack you recognize lets a smirk plaster across his face. you give abby a quick look but she rolls her eyes.

“anyway,” she regains composure and smiles at you. “y/n/n, this is my boyfriend cole. that’s johnny, spencer, jack, trevor, bella, alex, kalyn, owen and francesca.” you figure it shouldn’t be that hard to remember everyone and put their names to their faces. abby points to everyone as she says their names and for the most part everyone smiles at you.

while everyone -- or mostly everyone -- is greeting you, you can’t help but notice jack and trevor are talking amongst each other. they both glance over at you, jack giving you a once over causing your cheeks to flush before they look back at each other, before finally jack turns to you. “here, the seat next to me is open.” jack slides over on the bench to make some space for you. you hesitate for a second before looking over at abby silently asking her if this is a good idea or not. you know exactly who he is, and you aren’t about to fall into his trap. but that’s the only seat open that wasn’t the one cole had saved for abby. 

you walk over to the other side of the table and sit down next to jack who’s giving you a smirk. “jack hughes, but you probably already know that.”

you chuckle and give jack a little innocent smile. “i’m sorry, jack whoughes?” you question furrowing your eyebrows. around you, the entire table erupts into laughter. now it’s your turn to smirk at the poor boy sitting next to you with bright red cheeks.

you watch as jack runs his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, a slight chuckle escaping his lips before he clears his throat. “woah, pretty and funny, what’s your name gorgeous?” 

grabbing his hand that finds its way to your knee, you speak, “do you have a hearing problem or something? i thought abby just said it, bud. and just so you know, your little tricks? yeah, they aren’t gonna work on me, jack hughes.” you drop his hand onto the table and give it a few pats before retreating and resting your hands in your lap.

francesca gets your attention from across the table, but you hear jack mumble an “oh my god.” and trevor is laughing his ass off, followed by the sound of jack slapping trevor. “so, y/n, where are you from?” fran asks you. some of the other boys at the table lean in to pay attention, the others are talking about who knows what. that’s what pretty much the entire lunch period contains of: everyone bombarding you with questions about yourself and you fill them all in.

after about twenty minute of pure bliss without him bothering you, jack nudges your side and you turn to face him. “what do you have next, gorgeous?”

“math.” you answer simply, trying to prove to the boy you weren’t interested in his little games at all. you turn back to abby and open your mouth to speak, but jack beats you to it.

“me too,” you can hear the smirk in his voice. “with calderbank? ‘cause same. i’d like some arm candy walking up there if you wouldn’t mind.”

“do you ever shut up, hughes?” you fire at him and both of his eyebrows raise. “god, finally, cat got his tongue.”

everyone at the table is amused by the interaction between you two. however, you’re visibly frustrated with whatever plan jack thinks will be able to manipulate you. “oh come on, it was harmless.”

“jack, she isn’t stupid. she knows what you’re capable of, she knows what your intentions are, and let’s be honest they aren’t good. so just cut it out,” spencer speaks up just as the bell signaling the end of the period sounds - you’re literally saved by the bell. you grab your bookbag from the floor and wait for abby, kalyn and fran before the few of you head out of the cafeteria. 

the girls apologize profusely for jack’s behavior, but you insist that it’s alright. it’s completely out of their control and they shouldn’t have to apologize for him, he should be apologizing for himself. after abby shows you your math classroom you’re left to fend for yourself for when jack walks into the room. and it seems things aren’t in your favor as he waltzes into the room only a few moments after you do. 

you walk up to mrs. calderbank with a smile, “hi mrs. calderbank, i’m y/n. where do you want me to sit?”

“nice to meet you, y/n! hm, pretty sure that seat right there,” she points to the only empty desk in the room. and guess where it is? next to jack fucking hughes. “is the only one unassigned. so, now it’s yours.”

“thanks,” you thank her through a fake smile and turn to take a seat. jack’s eyes are locked on yours as you walk to the back of the room to him. you keep his gaze held on yours, eyes hard and set on him. “i’m not thrilled about this.”

“oh, but i’m thrilled about this, sweetheart. you’ll come around soon enough, i know it.”

#jack hughes #cole caufield #alex turcotte #spencer knight #usntdp #team usa #new jersey devils #montreal canadiens #la kings #florida panthers #nhl #hockey #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes x reader imagine #hockey x reader imagine

[carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich]

These Fanfics of Shin and Carla of nice and all...but we want the story on how Carla Tsukinami stoke your ham sandwich! The greedy bast*rd he is...

Anon, this is one of my favourite asks ever and I love you. Thank you so much for giving me an opportunity to shamelessly insert myself into the world of DL I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :)

I wrote myself as a nameless herione (because I don’t think most of you know my name) which also means you can treat it as a reader insert if you want to, but bare in mind this is based on how I would react in this situation and there are some details that are a bit specific to me.

“Hm, I wonder if I’m allowed up here?” The girl glanced back at the door to the rooftop of Ryoutei Academy, trying to spot any sort of kanji that could translate to “Keep Out” but found none. Shrugging to herself she concluded that if anyone caught her up here when she wasn’t supposed to be, then she would have to play the confused foreign student card and hope for the best.

A mild scolding seemed better than going back to the cafeteria anyway.

She looked down at the slightly sorry looking lunchbox in her hands and loosed a sigh. It was only her second day at her new school and already she felt herself desperately missing her friends and the familiarity of her old school. 

The other students had all been pleasant enough- aside from the boy with glasses in her class, who she’d caught eyeing the hemline of her skirt with obvious disapproval, as though it was somehow her fault that whoever made the school uniform had not done so with five foot nine female transfer students in mind- but the thought of trying to navigate getting food when almost all of the signs were in kanji she didn’t recognize made her gut roll with anxiety.

Besides at least the rooftop was pretty, with troughs of well kept roses lining the space and a perfect view of Kaminashi town, just beyond the iron railing, the lights from the small shopping district a warm glow against the midnight blue sky.

The girl walked over to the edge of the rooftop, intent on giving herself a moment to admire the townscape when a nearby rose caught her eye. It’s petals were such a dark red, they looked almost black in the modest illumination provided by the few lights lining the roof. She crouched down on the balls of her feet and set her lunchbox carefully to the side. Something about the scene, the dark flower with the night sky behind it, made her fingers itch with the urge to sketch it. 

“I don’t think I could do the dark colors justice with my watercolors and I can’t do realism with markers so maybe colored pencils would be best?” She muttered to herself she tried to find the perfect angle for some reference photos she could use later, while reaching into her pocket for her phone. “Acrylics could work I guess but I don’t have any canvas here and I-”

“What are you doing?” A low voice came from right beside her ear. The girl let out a high-pitched shriek and jolted in surprise, barely catching her balance in time.

She loosed a breath before turning her head in the direction of whoever had spoken, but before she could, they spoke again.

“Hahh, that’s no good… Hmph!” A rough shove sent her sprawling into the roses. Thorns scratched at her skin and she cursed as her hands plunged in the damp mulch, just barely stopping her from face-planting into the dirt. The rest of her however, was not so lucky, and she knew from the way her torso had landed in the soil that her skirt’s hemline had just become the least of her worries as far as her uniform was concerned.

A cruel laugh came from behind her and she turned to look up, filled with some mixture of anger and embarrassment. 

But whatever had been brewing petered out the moment she laid eyes on the culprit. He was quite possibly the most beautiful boy she’d ever seen; short choppy, strawberry blonde hair framed pale face with an eye the most incredible shade of gold. 

He was utterly stunning.

The effect was promptly ruined however, when he opened his mouth, face twisting into a sneer.

“Haha, how pathetic, crawling around in the dirt.” He continued to chuckle as she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, wincing slightly at the way they stung where they’d scraped against the ground. 

“Heehhh, aren’t you going to say something?” The boy asked, the humor in his expression dying down as he regarded her as one might a spot of mould on a piece of bread. “Or is it that you’re so stupid, you can’t understand what I’m saying?”

The girl froze slightly, unsure how to navigate whatever was going on. Was this guy a bully? Her strategy for dealing with bullies until now had generally been to avoid them or ignore them, neither of which seemed like a good idea here.

“Oiii Miss idiot, are you going to keep ignoring me until I do something like this?” Before she could react the boy placed a heavy black boot on her hand and started to put his weight onto it.

Shit.

“What do you want from me?” She blurted out, praying silently that she hadn’t messed up the Japanese grammar, which really shouldn’t have been a concern given this encounter could feasibly end with a broken hand.

The pressure stopped briefly and she took the chance to tug her hand out from her under his shoe and get to her feet. The girl was a little surprised to find that the boy was no taller than she was, although his general aura of menace certainly made him intimidating enough without needing any extra height. 

“Ah, so you can talk. As for what I want… why don’t we start with an apology for shrieking in my ear earlier? It hurt you know?” He made a show of obnoxiously cleaning out his ear with his finger and the girl found herself completely lost for words. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, there were a lot of words swirling in her brain, all of them English and not to be used amongst polite company.

Biting back the urge to tell him to fuck off, she reminded herself that she was currently alone with this guy on a rooftop and angering him further probably would not end well. “I apologize for shouting in your ear, you surprised me. I’ll be going now.” Lunch forgotten, she went to make a hasty retreat to the rooftop door but was stopped short when the male put himself directly into her path. 

“Not so fast, you haven’t answered my question yet. What were you doing up here, sticking your head into the roses like some kind of animal?” The girl tried to keep her breathing even, as she felt panic rise in her veins.

“I wanted to take pictures as drawing references, I didn’t realize that-” an arsehole like you would show up “-someone else was already here, forgive me, I’ll be on my way.” She went to take a step around him, when the boy took a step towards her, forcing her to take one back. Soon her back was pressed up against the railing and she internally cursed.

“You just wanted to draw some pictures of the flowers? Isn’t that a bit childish? Well, I guess you still wear kid’s underwear so I shouldn’t be surprised.” The girl spluttered and instinctively went to yank down her skirt, a slightly ridiculous action, considering he must have seen everything when he pushed her earlier. 

“That-that doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she said, eyes on the ground as her face burned with shame. “Please, just let me leave.”

“You know, you still sound pretty demanding for someone who’s shaking and is covered in mud. Also,” he paused, sniffing the air briefly before glancing down at her knees, “ah I wondered where that awful scent was coming from, geez human blood really isn’t appealing at all.” The girl looked at her legs and caught sight of red liquid staining her knees, but that wasn’t what made her pause.

“Human blood? What are you-” A cold dread spread through her as she looked back up at the boy and the inhuman color of his iris. This had to be some sort of awful prank right?

“Oh, maybe I spoke too much, but that reaction isn’t bad, haha. Hey, what do you think I am?” He asked her, opening his mouth just wide enough to reveal a pair of gleaming white fangs.

“That’s… There’s no way… You can’t…” The girl struggled to process the image in front of her, trying to find some sensible sounding explanation. He had to be a nutjob with fake fangs right? A nutjob who liked to terrorize girls on rooftops and happened to go to a night school.

“Ah how boring. Shouldn’t most girls be crying with fear by now? I don’t want to but, would you react a bit more if I pierced you with these fangs?” He lowered his face and panic surged through her. Lunatic or something else, she had no intention of being bitten by him. The girl went to shove him away from her, but before she could blink he had her arms pinned above her head.

“It seems you still haven’t learned that I’m not the sort of person you should fight back against. Hey, how much would it take to make you cry?” His grip on her wrists tightened and she winced at the strength in his grip. “Your wrists are pretty thin, I’d barely have to use any of my strength to snap your bones.”

“Please stop!” She begged, as she silently prayed for someone, anyone to intervene.

“Oi Shin, what are you doing?” An incredibly deep voice came from the entrance to the rooftop and the girl said a silent word of thanks.

“Huh,” Shin looked over his shoulder, allowing the girl a glance at her savior. He was tall, with long white hair, that appeared dyed pink at the tips. A dark scarf covered the lower half of his face, while above it were a pair of piercing golden eyes. 

A shudder ran down her spine as her gaze locked with his for a moment, suddenly feeling a lot less safe than she had just a moment ago.

“Ah brother, I was just having a bit of fun.” The girl wasn’t sure which part of this statement horrified her more. That her so called savoir was actually related to the demonic pile of steaming garbage in front of her or that this was Shin’s version of fun. 

“That’s enough, we have matters to discuss.” The man walked over from the door to the roof, his footsteps stopping just behind Shin.

“Tch,” Shin let go of her arms, only to grip hold of her chin, moving his face uncomfortably close to hers. “Hey, if you tell anyone about what happened here, I’ll rip your tongue out, got it?” His fangs caught the light as he spoke, and the girl felt very close to tears as she muttered a soft yes. 

Shin flashed her that nasty smile of his before letting go. “Well then, get out of here!” 

Needing no further prompting, she hastily got away from him, pausing only to grab her school bag. As she did so, she caught sight of her lunchbox in the older boys hands and faltered. 

“Go!” Shin yelled and the girl concluded that the ham sandwich and peanut butter flavored chocolate bar contained in the hundred yen tupperware were not worth her life as she borderline ran to the rooftop door, slamming it shut behind her. 

***

Carla watched the girl flee from the rooftop with a dispassionate expression. 

“What exactly did you do?” He asked, more concerned with trying to keep their low profile as they furthered their objective than anything else.

“Nothing much, I just toyed with her a bit. She’s only a human so it doesn’t really matter does it? More importantly, why did you keep hold of that?” Shin nodded towards the plastic container in Carla’s hands. 

Carla said nothing as he opened up the box and pulled out a modest sandwich wrapped neatly in clingfilm. Removing some of the wrap, he sniffed it briefly before muttering.

“I thought so.”

Shin took a deep breath through his nose. “Ah, I see, a dry cured ham sandwich huh?”

“Normally I would never eat something prepared by human hands but to take away the taste of that polluted blood, it can’t be helped.” Carla lowered his scarf and took a bite of the sandwich, chewing a few times as he deemed it to be palatable before swallowing. “Oi Shin, take this.” He threw a plastic wrapped bar at his brother and Shin caught it without effort.

He turned it over in his hands before spotting the reason why his brother had given it to him. “Peanut butter huh? Well at least it seems that girl’s good for something.”

#own post #my writing #self-insert #I realise that the heroine/me is a bit lackster but that's because while I get embarrassed chronically easily #I don't get angry very easily at all and my normal strategy when faced with anything unpleasant is to try and leave by all means necessary #Also I genuinely do stop to take photos of flowers because I want to draw them #I love that upon being given a chance to insert myself into DL I just used it to have Shin bully me #I could have gone on longer with this but i think 2000 words of me is enough for anoyone #This is based on the idea of me being 18 (which I was when I started this blog although I was in Uni already) #and spending my final year of highschool at Ryoutei Academy

[thepeakyfckingblinders]

Delight || Michael Gray x reader

⤠ MASTERLIST⤟

Anon requested: 10 & 14 with michael, idk why but i read these and immediately thought of michael hilariously trying to calm his girl who’s losing it Summary: n.10 & 14 from prompt list:  "I swear to God, I’ll blind you” + “Have you totally lost your mind?”

Warnings: swearing, Michael being a flirty sexy bitch (and me loving him)

Author’s notes:

First of all, this gif makes me wet. That. damn. smirk.

I’m sorry for being this late, but I’ve been really busy in the past days and writing is never just easy, it demands concentration and effort, plus I don’t want you to be disappointed, so I’m always extra accurate while working. I hope this is worth the wait!

Let me know what you think and tell me if this is what you expected  ♡

I’m Italian, English isn’t my first language, so I apologize for every possible mistake I made. Also please, help me improve my writing by telling me if there’s something wrong

ENJOY!

The very first time you met Michael he was effectively still Henry, your favourite classmate at the night-school course in accountancy at Worcester College. Truth to be told, it wasn’t easy at all to attend those kinds of lessons, since the vast majority of people couldn’t afford something like that, but you had always been an excellent learner, whoever knew you noticed your uncommon intelligence, your lucid intellect, your charismatic personality and, for all these reasons, you eventually decided not to quit your studies, managing to combine your daily job with evening classes. Naturally, it took a lot of hard work and you’d found yourself about to give up everything more than once, but four years later, continuing your studies turned out to be the best decision you’d ever made: first and foremost because you had the chance to come across the love of your life, secondly because your degree allowed you to aim at pretty prestigious employment, considering the terrible men’s world you were living in. Moreover, your strong personality together with your determination drove you to constantly improve your job skills; in the space of a few years, you went from working as a simple personal assistant for an important Irish businessman to actually becoming his leading and most trusted secretary, so now, after countless months of unspeakable efforts and sacrifices, you clearly hoped to become to all intents and purposes his second in command. And you would have succeeded, if it hadn’t been for the fact that your direct competitor had a penis between his legs. “This is all fucking insane, fucking intolerable!” The door shut noisily behind your tense shoulders as you angrily shouted, entering the Shelbys’ earliest office in Small Heat; Michael was sitting there alone, with his feet comfortably placed on a desk, a fuming cigarette through his fingers and the latest edition of the Birmingham Daily Gazette held in his hands.

“Love?! Is everything okay?” His green eyes immediately gave you a look halfway between interrogative and worried, however you were too wrapped up in your heated discussion with yourself to mind his concern, so you just roughly threw your crimson red jacket on a random chair, before going back to curse against the whole world.

“Five damned years, five! I broke my back, not sleeping for days, always running from a place to another” Michael’s amused gaze followed your movements as you went up and down the room like a spinning top and your hands frenetically removed your emerald hairpin, letting your locks fall softly on your bare neck, just the way he liked it.  It was easy for him to understand what you were complaining about and, being aware of how much you cared for your career, he decided to simply let you blow off steam while enjoying the little comedy show you were putting on.

“I wore out and bought so many shoes, with all that money I would’ve set up my own fucking company by now! And all of this for what?!” Your mad outburst paused for a brief moment as you poured in a glass a massive amount of gin, then chugging it in the twinkling of an eye with a stern expression on your face “To have my job stolen by a total jerk, only because I’m a bloody woman!”

The crystal cup you had drunk from loudly crashed into a thousand little pieces when you violently flung it against the wall, in a fit of absolute blind rage; only then your boyfriend  rapidly got to his feet, reaching you on the other side of the office in a matter of seconds, in order to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself. “Jesus Christ, y/n, have you totally lost your mind?” His look softened as he held both your wrists in his big hands, ascertaining that you were okay and there was no blood on your velvet skin, then again a small grin appeared on his lips since an adorable frown formed on your flushed face. Your pupils rolled with annoyance and you slightly pushed him away, taking some unquiet steps in no particular direction.

“Yes, I fucking have! I’m a complete fool, to the point of thinking that in this shitty world people could achieve something by merit, regardless of their damned gender!” Once more Michael reached for you, his fingers went to lovingly caress your shoulders in attempt to calm you and keep you in one place, while his eyes captured yours with urgency. “C’mon, baby, I know you’re furious right now, but you can always start working for Tommy, he’s been begging you for months, plus we’re way better than those screwed idiots” Yet his warm voice didn’t succeed in soothing your terrible disappointment and you unwittingly got away from him again, your nerves still overcoming you. “You know I don’t want any special treatment, I need to make it with my own strength, not because I’m your stupid girlfriend!”

Your boyfriend smiled subconsciously realizing how proud he was of you and your incredible persistence, a sudden surge of tenderness caught him off guard, leading him to gently cup your face with both his hands.

“If you don’t slow down, I swear to God, I’ll blind you” He playfully whispered a few inches away from your nose, while pecking your lips several times, finally managing to defuse your fury, even if only a little. Indeed, for a brief moment, your mouth involuntary curved in an imperceptible grin, before you turned your back on him in search of your purse.

“Please, do it already, so I won’t have to see that bastard’s face ever again” You muttered, messing with the content of your bag, and a low laugh left his throat, Michael shook his head, resigned to your extreme stubbornness, as he watched you stand in front of the only mirror in the room, busy fixing your make-up without a real reason, merely to keep your nervous fingers occupied with something.

He took a moment for just observing your figure in pure delight, while you continued to wildly powder your nose and ramble about your discontent; he loved the contrast between your tiny self and the huge fire in your belly, he loved the fact that you were able to be both the sweetest creature on earth and the fiercest woman he knew, he loved the way your cheeks heated with strong emotions and how your hair nuzzled your skin whenever you let it down, and all of a sudden he found himself eager to make you his, right there and then. So he kept staring at you and removed his grey jacket, starting soon after to unbutton his matching waistcoat and then his shirt, always maintaining an alluring smirk on his magnetic face, even though you were not looking at him; at least not until you raised your eyes, noticing his silhouette through the mirror. Your mouth went totally dry in a single instant, you forgot what you were talking about, your irises drinking every drop of that stunning sight: Michael’s lean but toned shape, together with his flirtatious expression, literally mesmerized you as the afternoon light filtering from the windows emphasized the features of his solid chest and abdomen. “W-what are you doing?” That was everything you were capable of stumbling when his arms possessively gathered around your waist, pushing you against his body so that you could physically feel how much he wanted you in that moment, his lips left a wet kiss on your neck before slowly moving towards your ear.  “I’m being a good boyfriend, babydoll, ‘gonna help you relax a bit, yeah?”

@namelesslosers

#peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders preference #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders x oc #peaky blinders one shot #michael gray x reader #michael gray imagine #michael gray x oc #michael gray fic #michael gray #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby immagine #john shelby #john shelby x reader #john shelby imagine #alfie solomons #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby imagine #finn shelby #ada shelby #polly gray #isaiah jesus

[szivtalan]

1, 2, 3, 4, 19, 26, 32, 34, 36, 38, 41, 43, 44, 47, 53, 54, 69, 72, 80, 83, 84, 92, 105, 107, 112, 113, 115, 118, 132, 135, 136, 137 for the ask some question thing please?

Oh shit this will be so long and I can't put a line break anywhere yells I'm Sorry

1) 3 Fears

- living at my hometown/country for my entire life and not seeing nor experiencing the rest of the world at all

- not making any impact on this world, leaving it as I found it

- needles

2) 3 things I love

- friends, my brother

- laying down on the ground on a sunny day and staring up at the sky, watching the clouds roll by

- dogs

3) 2 turn ons

- someone making an effort to talk to me and basically letting me know they think about me

- I think homiro said gentleness and I agree yeah, being kind-hearted and soft spoken and attentive to people around you,,,,, Yeah that shit good

4) 2 turn offs

- people feeling the need to express superiority over others at any given moment

- general intolerance

19) How I feel right now

Kind of really sad.... Annoyed that I can't sleep, a whole lot anxious about things, worried about the ringing in my ears being back

26) The reasons I joined Tumblr

I genuinely cannot remember, maybe it was to look at inumog doujinshis in my Shizaya days

32) Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

Depends, low when I need to focus on something else, loud when I want to just let it get to me and dissociate

34) Am I excited for anything?

My binder!!! I want That,,, also, the things I ordered for me and a friend, my date tomorrow, meeting my friends on Tuesday (maybe), and on a long-term, I think starting school again, moving out and maybe traveling a lil.

36) How often do I wear a fake smile?

I think I do it a lot, especially if I'm not getting something or just want to be nice. Honey I work in customer service, being nice is part of my contract

38) What do I think about most?

If I made/am making the right choices.

41) Do I perfer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

I think video chatting is nicer bc u don't just hear people, you can also see their faces and therefore interpret their words better

43) Do I believe in magic?

No fam

44) Do I believe in luck?

Uhhh I don't think so? I just think things have consequences and everything is interconnected. I believe in happy coincidences.

47) Do I have any nicknames?

Vicki, Vic, Viku, Vee, Vitya, Shinai (notice how one of these doesn't fit w the rest) and yeah I guess Vamos

53) What's my favorite word?

Maybe szerelmeskedés (it's hungarian for lovemaking, but we have two words for love: 'szeretet' which is more on the platonic side, and 'szerelem' which contains the infatuated aspect of it. The stem "love" in this word is based on the latter, whereas the more common 'szeretkezés' has the first sort of love in it)

54) My top 5 blogs on Tumblr

JUST FIVE? Ah fuck @homiro @kuwoko @transbucky @incorrectbballboys @takao-au-lait

69) Gotten my heart broken?

Several times. You know, you'd think once you get through the first couple of heartbreaks you stop hoping and harden your heart, but mine's still plenty delicate and I just...keep getting my hopes up all the time.

72) Learned another language?

Yeah I mean adgj I've been learning English for over 14 years (give or take), learned some German in first grade and high school, Latin for 4 years and French for one and a half. I also tried Russian and Swedish in duolingo but it's just not the same u know

80) What do I want for birthday?

My friends to be happy and safe.

83) Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Mmm one time we as a class got caught drinking hard liquor, we were like 14 and some of us were seriously sloshed. Like near alcohol poisoning. We were all scolded harshly lol, but as an individual I think I've evaded being caught with shit so far. Which is incredible. I did so much stupid shit

84) What I'm really bad at

I suuuck at playing the guitar. My hearing's kinda wonky anyway, so I don't even actually know if my singing voice's nice or not, but I cannot carry a tune on guitar for dear life. I've been trying to learn this song, and it's a total of 4 chords, and the progress is terrible

92) What kind of people are you attracted to?

Sweet people who turn out to be sort of damaged, uh. Tall dudes with kind smiles and ropey muscles, and every girl ever probably. I can't really explain, looking back on my dating/crushing history, I do have a range dang

105) What do you do when you wake up?

Ideally, I lay in bed for a few more hours, have some adult fun time by myself, go out of my room, get washed up, make coffee, eat breakfast, get dressed. When I don't have time to do all this, I get half-dressed, eat, wash up, and dress up the rest of the way.

107) Do you ever want to get married?

....ha. As a child of divorce, I don't exactly believe in the sanctity of marriage, but like dude, who knows what will I think when I get there with a partner.

112) Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Some do, when there's willingness to change and grow. But it's better to be wary if you do grant them second chances, because they might go down the same path unconsciously - sometimes it's just all they know, you know?

113) Do you smile at strangers?

Yeah, at everyone who seems nice to me. Shit, I do fake-smile a lot.

115) Ever wished you were someone else?

Only pfff all the time?

118) Ever won a competition? For what?

I don't think I have, but we did get a gold medal with our drama club at senior year of high school at a big nationwide event. I mean, we weren't the only one with a gold, it didn't exactly mean first place, but it was stil very cool!!

132) Do you type fast?

I think so, yes? One time my brother's best friend asked me about how fast I typed so I opened a new Facebook post and typed "[his name] is a butthole that's how fast" and he laughed sgfjd

135) Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

*aggressively sighs* YEAh a lot of folks okay!! I'm sensitive and I feel a lot

136) Is cheating ever okay?

No. It isn't.

137) Do you believe in true love?

I mean, I want to, but I think my ability to fall for someone in a matter of seconds kind of cheapens the whole love thing for me. I believe it exists, and that it's out there, but knowing it is and believing that I won't really experience it makes me really sad.

#ask and i shall answer #long post #meiyanaalexia #i'd reread but its so late and my eyes are tired just looking at this #holy fuck i wrote a lot #i even typed out the questions by hand instead of copy pasting #but yeah anyway its late im pining this was a good distraction thank

[enchantingkittengaditor]

Born Into This | 01: Right Now

POV Hayley

“Ms. Atwell, can you please tell us all that you can remember leading up to the events?”

“Ok, it all truly started when TJ found something I can’t begin to explain in the lab after I got her an internship at the police station. Like me, she didn’t want to be apart of the mob world.”

“Hi, I came in to collect my case files, Edna,” I asked the elderly lady behind the front desk showing her my ID.

“Of course Miss. Atwell,” the lady behind the desk smiled at me as she went to go grab my files. While she was in the back I grabbed my phone, checking to see if anything bad had happened or if anyone figured out my past yet.

“Get in the cell, Stan!” one of the officers yelled at a man he was trying to get into a cell.

“Make me.”

“Oh my god,” I mumbled under my breath as I looked up to be met by the eyes of Sebastian Stan, one of the many underbosses of the Downey Mafia. This is great, just the person I didn’t want to see because where theirs a Stan there is always a Chris. And whichever Chris it was I didn’t want to see them here.

“Here you go, dear. It’s a shame isn’t it, all these men getting caught up in crime families it makes you think what their parents think of them doesn’t it. Anyway good luck with some of those cases, you’ll need it,” she said again as I quickly scurried off, still feeling the glare on my back from Sebastian in his cell.

“Watch your back bitch!” He screamed at me before the door slammed shut behind me.

God, I hope no one else noticed that he was talking to me. Let’s try and ignore it and see if Lizzy knows anything but till then I have to pick up TJ.

Me: WHERE ARE YOU? I FORGOT WHERE YOUR INTERNSHIP IS.

TJ: 5TH FLOOR, LAB. HAVE SOMETHING THAT MAY INTEREST YOU. ABOUT SEB & A CASE

Me: SEE YOU IN 5. TELL ME THEN. PHONE NOT SAFE. LIZ WORRIED.

I stepped out of the elevator on to the 5th-floor landing. The 5th floor was split between a state of the art lab and the Lawyer’s office, which makes TJ having her internship so much easier, even if I did forget where it was.

“Hi Anna, I’m here for my niece, the lab intern,” I said to the lady at the front desk inside the lab.

“Hey Aunt Hayley, can you come see this. If that’s alright Anna?” She queried her boss for the past few days.

“That’s fine but be quick your meant to be gone in five minutes,” Anna said from behind her desk.

“Thank you so much, Anna,” TJ responded to her as she led me to her small work station. “Have a look, tell me what you see.” She pointed at the microscope.

“Did you arrange cells to say ‘I love you’?” I asked her.

“Yes. Now Seb?”

“I’ll tell you more later. Then pizza and home to Lizzie,” I said putting my arm around her shoulder as we walked out of the lab.

“Should we bring Lizzie some pizza, she did have a big meeting with the idiot of Chris.”

“Maybe we go with veggie pizza. You know how those meetings can go.”

“That might be a good idea. How was your day? How was Seb?”

“I didn’t see him until I left and got his file. It was good. You?”

“It was so much fun. The science here is incredible, though I still want to be a lawyer like you and get away from the family business. I want to be on the right side of all this,” she said motioning to the police station.

“Good for you. Now pizza.”

“PIZZA!”

“You a weird child, now you still got your subway ticket?”

“Yes let’s go.”

“What happened then?”

“We got pizza and went home, it’s not rocket science,” I sassed at the judge.

“We’re home!” TJ shouted to Lizzie in the kitchen. “And you have red wine, what happened?”

“Chris happened,” she responded.

“Right we have pizza and you have wine, TJ you can either have wine or a coca-cola that’s in the fridge,” I said putting the pizza box on the table.

“I’m going with the coke.”

“For the next two hours, we sat at the table laughing and talking about our day. We also talked to TJ about her new school and everything we’d heard about it.”

“Was there anything else that went on that night?”

“Not that I can recall, though I would like to point out we did drink a few bottles of wine. So I’m sorry that I can’t remember what else happened.”

POV Sebastian

“Mr. Stan, what do you remember from the night of August 28th, 2022?”

“I’d been arrested at about 6 pm that day and I was sitting in the drunk tank glaring at officers while trying to sober up.”

“Is that all?”

“All that I can remember,” I stated back at them.

“Why were you arrested, by the way, Mr. Stan?”

“I was arrested for public intoxication among other things.”

“Congratulations, Stan you have made bail,” one of the officers said unlocking the cell door.

“You really need to get your act together Sebastian,” a voice said to me as I grabbed my things.

“Shut the fuck up Chris, I don’t have time for this. I have to…”

“You don’t have to do anything except explain all of this to Robert.”

“He knows?” I asked already regretting last night.

“Of course he knows. He knows everything that happens in this city, like the fact Hayley Atwell is your court-appointed attorney.”

“Well, that’s going to be fun.”

“You need something to eat. It’ll help sober you up.”

“What I need is to get out of the country.”

“That isn’t the answer.”

“What were the other things?”

“I was in a mob, it’s all in the file that you were given.”

POV TJ

“Ms. Barnes, what do you remember from the night of the 28th of August 2022?”

“I remember going to bed at around 10 pm and reading for a solid hour before turning off and going to bed after texting Millie and Sofia.”

“Why did you text these two people?”

“Because without me reminding them to go to bed they’d stay up 24/7. I’m just a teenage girl who cares about her friends. Contrary to popular belief I’m not a monster, I’m just a normal human being with a crazy family.”

“Normal?”

“Well as normal as one can expect having been brought up by mobsters.”

“Alright, what about the 1st of September?”

“That was the first day of school.”

“And?”

“And as I imagine you remember it was full of misogynistic comments, a rating list and bitchy teenagers and me nearly punching a sexist teacher who thought I couldn’t cope being in AP classes. Other than that and the usual bonding games it was a normal day.”

“I want you to describe it in detail,” The judge said.

“Can you pull in just here, I don’t want anyone to know about the fact I’m getting driven around in a limo,” I told Alfred the driver as Lizzie and Hayley talked business across from me.

“Of course ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me ma’am call me TJ please I will never get used to anyone calling me ma’am,” I told him as I kissed my aunts’ goodbye on the cheeks and got out of the car.

“Have you got your lunch?” Hayley asked.

“Yes, don’t worry I have everything.”

“She even has two best friends,” Millie said from behind me.

“Have a good day you three,” Lizzie said, “I have an appointment at the warehouse but I’ll come to pick you all up and we can get ice cream and walk around central park.”

“Yup,” Sofia squeaked as we headed to the school gates.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” I told her before she could ask.

“Yup. So what class do you guys have first?” Millie asked as we tried to find our lockers in the expansive hallways.

“AP English, with a Mr. Holland,” I said looking at my timetable on my phone trying to find the combination to my locker to drop most of my books off.

“Well, congrats we’ve all got the same class,” Millie said finding her combination.

“Wasn’t Holland one of the names on the list of people to avoid that we were all sent by Mr. T?” Sofia asked.

“Let’s see there’s a Tom, Sam, Harry, Dominic and that’s it. Well, all he could find under that name,” I said pinning some photos from London up inside my locker as well as the list of names I’d printed out this morning.

“You printed it out?” Sofia asked.

“Yup because it’s more useful like this than on my phone.”

“But more people can see it,” Millie responded.

“Only if they look in my locker, though,” I said as we walked toward what we hoped was the classroom we were meant to go to.

“This is 120 right?” Millie asked looking at the sign outside the door.

“I believe that does say 120 Millie. Are you sure you should be in AP calc?”

“Shut up,” She said playfully slapping my shoulder.

“Sorry,” two boys said after knocking into me and Millie trying to get into the classroom.

“I guess we should go in,” Sofia stated.

“Here we go,” Millie said.

“Together,” we said in unison walking through the door hand in hand.

“That was dramatic, wasn’t it?” Sofia said when we took a seat together at the front of the classroom.

“Not there,” a man said to us, “There’s a seating chart on the board.”

“Well, I’m in the right spot but you two have to move,” I said to my friends.

“Just remember, see something say something,” Millie said raising her eyebrows at us to emphasize the hidden meaning of the saying we’d been taught since we’d been kids.

“What does that mean?” One of the kids that had bumped into us said looking at where Millie was sitting.

“It means what you’d think it means, it’s just a stupid joke that we’ve told each other since we were kids. Love ya TJ,” Sofia said picking up her books and moving to her desk.

“Bye,” I said to them as they moved across the room pouting at me as I turned back to the boy, “Hi, I’m TJ. And you are?” I said looking him up and down as he sat down.

“Patrick,” he said shaking my hand. “I’m guessing your not from around here.”

“That obvious huh?” I said taking my pencil case out of my bag ready for class.

“The accent gave it away.”

“Thought so. You’ve also got a south-east London accent. How?” I asked with the determination I’d seen Lizzie use in meetings.

“My parents are from London, but I grew up here most of my life,” he told me turning back to the board.

“Hello everyone. Welcome to AP English, I’m Mr. Holland and I’ll be your teacher. To get us started after all the introductions and ‘bonding’ games that I’m sure you’ll do today, I’m going to set you a group project with your desk partner on a historically important book so pick a name out of the hat.”

When I picked a name out of the hat I was elated. “What book did you get?” the teacher asked.

“Little Women, Louisa May Alcott,” I said not even looking back at the little piece of paper.

“Good luck,” he said moving on.

At the end of the class, the three of us met up outside the classroom.

“So if I have ‘A Room Of One’s Own’ and you have ‘Little Women’ how on earth did Millie get ‘The Adventures Of Huckleberry Finn’? There is such a difference in those books,” Sofia said to us as we walked to our next class.

“I honestly don’t know. But I’m not mentally ready for that level of sexism and racism,” Millie responded.

“Is that all that happened that day at school?”

“No that’s all that mattered that day at school, it was a normal first day.”

“Alright.”

POV Chris

“Mr. Evans can you explain what happened at your meeting with Ms. Elizabeth Olsen.”

“Of course.”

“Elizabeth,” I said walking into the conference room at the hotel we’d agreed upon for this meeting.

“Christopher,” She said not even looking up from her paperwork.

“So, Robert tells me that you need to leave,” I said sitting down.

“Of course he thinks I need to leave but we’re not going to. We just need you to get him to sign these.” She handed me a folder that I flicked through.

“Why?” I asked her.

“It simply states that we’ll be in a similar relationship to that of any other mob in the city. The others have already signed theirs. It also states that you will be the liaison between us so that we don’t damage each other too much. All we want is to work together and help each other out,” she said smiling and waving her pen around.

“Well I’m sorry to say but we don’t do legal binding. And this is not how Robert roles.” I put down the file and slid it back to her.

“Well, Robert said you did. And agreed to this already so all you have to do is take this to him and get him to sign it. It’s a simple task I imagine you can handle it even with your IQ,” she told me.

“I can except he gave me this for you,” I said pulling out a note from my jacket pocket.

“Well thank you,” she said taking the note.

“I imagine things work differently in England than here,” I stated staring at her as she read the note.

“They do, we like to be more sophisticated in the ways we go into business with each other,” she said still reading the note.

“Get out,” she said quietly after she finished reading the note, “Get out or I will call security on you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans that’s all we need to know for now.”

POV Paddy

“Mr. Holland, can you tell us what happened on the first of September?”

“So your dad teamed you up with someone that he thinks is apart of a rival mob that moved here from England. And somehow he thought it would be a good idea for you two to work together. And now not so much?” Finn asked me as we sat down in the cafeteria.

“Yes, but he can’t change the partners without looking suspicious to at least her if she is, in fact, part of a mob.”

“So he’s worried about a teenage girl taking down Robert. Because that makes sense.”

“You haven’t seen what they did in London,” I told him starting to eat my lunch.

“Neither did you,” He told me.

“No, but my brothers and parents did and I’ve heard the stories. If she is a part of that mob she’s going down so is her family. They destroyed mine and so I’m going to help destroy theirs.”

“So you vowed to destroy the Barnes Mafia?”

“Yes but that was an empty threat. It meant nothing more than the ‘bro code’ everyone seems to think we uphold. It was meant as a way to show my dad that I was loyal to him but not mean anything to substantial because helping could just mean getting them cookies.”

“But I take it that’s not how your father saw it?”

“It never is.”

“Your dad said you wanted to help us take down the Barnes family?” the Chrises approached me when I got home from school.

“Maybe I did but I still have school and homework for the time being so if you’ll excuse me,” I told them grabbing an apple from the kitchen and disappearing to my room.

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