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chalkscene · 7 months

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tokyo revengers ⇢ YOU’RE TOO DRUNK TO RECOGNIZE YOUR BOYFRIEND

ft. manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, keisuke baji, takashi mitsuya, rindou haitani, ran haitani & shuji hanma

warnings: alcohol and a very hammered reader. the boys are more responsible than you <3

this is one of the rare occurrences wherein MIKEY actually shares his food. when you’ve finally given up on fighting him for the last bottle of alcohol, you start whining about your sudden hunger so he slides his plate of nachos over to you. he watches you eye it for a second before you drag your gaze up to him. “i have a boyfriend you know?” you tell him, your attempt to be menacing coming out pathetically as the attitude dripping from your tone is dampened by your slurred speech. mikey doesn’t need the club to be well lit. the strobe lights already illuminate your face enough for him to get a clear view of your glassy eyes and flushed cheeks. “i know,” he confirms with a tinge of exasperation, “because it’s me. mikey. your boyfriend.” he emphasizes his last words, his last effort to knock some sense into you but you only let out a cackle which catches him off guard. “nice try but mikey never shares his food.”

“that’s enough.” DRAKEN snatches the last of your many drinks for the night before you can gulp it down. being the perceptive boyfriend he is, he can already hear the complaint that’s about to slip from your tongue so he’s quick to pull you by the wrist, up from your seat and out the door. “where are you taking me?” you ask as clearly as your drunken state can let you—not so much but enough for your boyfriend to understand. “home.” at his curt reply, you yank your hand from his grip with a strength that startles even toman’s former vice president. “what the hell are you doing?” draken hisses lest you make a scene in public. “i’m calling my boyfriend,” you warn him, “bet he can kick your ass.” “yeah? i’d like to see him try.” he dismisses your empty threat, reaching for you once more to guide you to the exit but upon hearing a few whispers from prying strangers who are clearly getting the wrong idea, he stops in his tracks and turns to no one in particular, no longer caring about whatever commotion he may cause as his voice booms over the loud music: “i’m the boyfriend!”

“let me go!” you relentlessly thrash around, yelling out threats of calling your boyfriend, while BAJI—the boyfriend in question��pulls you into an empty alleyway to avoid any possible public humiliation for the both of you. “fuck,” he huffs out a breath, “when did you get this strong?” some time in the night, he’s tuned you out telling him off, on a sole mission to stop you from drinking more than you already have. and he’s relieved he managed to get you out of the bar—that is until he hears a weird noise coming from you. “wh-” baji doesn’t get the chance to utter a single word as you begin to throw up. in a panic, he hastily puts your hair up with his spare tie before rubbing soothing circles on your back. your hair looks real messy, he notes, but that’s the least of his worries. “you feeling better?” he checks on you after a while, only to be met by more retching, making him grumble to himself, “and i get an earful when i drink too much.”

MITSUYA is helping you get on your feet—sweet boyfriend he is—but as soon as you find your footing, you give him a hefty shove. “i have a boyfriend, jackass!” you seethe, too drunk to recognize him, and all he can do is sigh as he regains his balance. “yes. me.” something clicks in your brain at his response and you squint your eyes to get a better look at him. “takashi?” “hi, love.” and just like that, you perk up, your mouth stretching into a wide grin. “taka,” you squeal, excitement coursing through your veins when you recognize your boyfriend, “hiiiii~” he laughs at the shift in your tone and takes the opportunity to slide an arm around your waist once more. “let’s get you home okay?” “mhm.” you wrap your arms around him and he lifts you with ease. mitsuya assumes you’re fast asleep until a few minutes later, you mumble something against his skin, “someone tried to flirt with me but i said no.” a chuckle bubbles past his lips as he adjusts his hold on you. “really?” “mhm,” you nod into his neck as you snuggle closer, “i only love you.” “i love you more.” “love you most,” you reply before soft snores fall from your lips and your breathing evens out.

you’re rambling about RINDOU to rindou himself, going on and on about the reasons that made you fall in love with him. and while you’re occasionally interrupted by your hiccups, he patiently listens to your every word then he hears a “but.” the ways you describe him next are less flattering, less romantic—how he tries so hard to act indifferent to your cooing as if the tips of his ears don’t instantly turn red. or how he has a permanent scowl etched on his face. and other things you already tell him even when you’re sober. “he’s really lucky he doesn’t have any wrinkles yet,” you add with a giggle. “you’re really annoying when you’re drunk, you know that?” rindou deadpans. despite the lack of lighting in the club, he doesn’t miss the shock washing over you, your eyes getting mistier by the second. “what?” your voice comes out shaky and your bottom lip starts to wobble, making rindou release another groan. “for fuck’s sake.”

in spite of your insistence to stay at the club, RAN easily managed to drag you to his car. this isn’t his first rodeo. as an older brother, he has had to deal with rindou when he was blackout drunk. “where are we going?” you mumble as you begin to stir in the passenger seat. “home.” “i wanna see ran.” your boyfriend throws you a quick glance—your eyes remain closed and the rest of your words are incomprehensible—before he focuses back on the road. amused by your drunken state, he plays along. “alright, we’re going to ran.” the stretch of silence that follows is cut short when you speak again, “i’m thirsty.” so ran makes a quick stop at a convenience store, coming back shortly with a bottle in hand. he unscrews the cap before he gives you the drink, “careful.” you take a big gulp, instantly grimacing at the taste and it elicits a snort from your boyfriend. “what is this?” “water.”

“want more,” you slur. across from you, HANMA watches as you clumsily reach for the empty shot glasses on the table, flipping them upside down as if more alcohol will magically appear. he’s not going to lie—he finds it funny. entertaining, even. and if the circumstances were any different, he would’ve even encouraged this behavior. but he’s your boyfriend now and if there’s one thing he truly cares about, it’s you. drunk out of your wits, you don’t notice when hanma slides out of the booth until he’s soon presenting two more glasses to you. even though the contents are the same, he asks you to choose, “which one?” “hmm… that.” before you can get your hands on your drink, hanma intercepts and downs it in one go. you’re about to protest when he throws you over his shoulder and chugs the other drink out of your sight before heading for the exit. “let’s go.”

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ladadiida · 9 months

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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.

𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.

#opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #one piece #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji live action #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x reader #angst #one piece sanji x reader #ਏਓ ladadiida

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celaenaeiln · 5 months

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Is Dick's tendency for self-destructive habits really as bad as some fics make it out to be?

oh interesting!! In some way, yes actually.

Batman (2016) Issue #689

Dick and Alfred!! The duo make me so happy <33

But anyway, it's weird that someone who's so effusive with his affection so often and readily "deflects a moment of genuine emotion." Which is also one of the reasons why Dick Grayson as a character is so fascinating because he's never what people expect him to be. He's like a puzzle box where every time you think you solved, you just opened yourself up to a hard, even more complex one wherein the process repeats on an endless cycle.

He's incredibly self-destructive in the way he drive a burning car off a bridge and he'll know it's on fire, he knows where he's going, but he'll do it anyway because the car has a bomb and it's safer with him than the civilians behind him.

You know what? I just realized he deflects intimate conversations because he wants to keep the focus on the other person. Since he was Robin, Dick has been purposefully neglecting his feelings in order to take care of Bruce's. Right after his parents died, he bottled up his sadness and sorrow because he was worried that Bruce would blame himself and he didn't want Bruce to do that.

It's always been "Tell me what's wrong, Bruce." He's been so busy raising his guardian, his friends, his siblings, his teammates, that Dick has sunk into the role of a performer - the spotlight's on him but the audience is the focus.

I didn't realize until writing this ask but self-destruction is just such a normal thing with him that it's become a part of his personality. In fics it's very obvious when he's being self-destructive or neglecting himself or etc because he's very aware of it but Dick in canon has just made it his thing. It's actually the Titans that realize this and yank him out of it because Dick has no idea what he does to himself.

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #28

He's not self-destructive in a way that he's conscious of it but his habits and his lifestyle don't really give him a choice. He literally works himself sick.

The Titans (1999) Issue #9

"Maybe it's too much. Dick --have you considered that? You're working Bludhaven, even joining their force, you still clearly intend to come here to Gotham every time he calls you -- working so hard you're making yourself sick,"

"No. It's not the newness that's the problem."

People are literally telling him to calm down and he's like 'No! I'm perfectly okay. This is fine, let's continue.'

And this isn't even going into when Blockbuster blew up his life and Dick kinda lost himself to hunt him down and make him pay. People understand that Desmond burnt down the circus but Dick was still connected to the people in that circus, like he used his contacts there to sometimes inquire about things going on Bludhaven. The people at the circus raised him along with his parents so killing them was like killing Dick's aunts and uncles and friends and childhood. What happened then and after the SA was catastrophic. To Dick self-destruction has just become a part of him because he aims for perfection in every aspect of his life.

Like Donna said, "He works with the Titans, on his own, goes to school, and then he works alongside Batman..." and so on. Usually people struggle to maintain even one area of their life like just school or family but Dick's juggling, his work, his family, his friends, his relationship, his teams, and is still on call for Justice League incidents.

Titans (2003) Issue #6

He literally dropped everything to come over and break up the Titans (OF WHICH HE IS NOT EVEN A PART OF RIGHT NOW BECAUSE HE'S IN THE MIDDLE OF DEALING WITH THE OUTSIDERS) and the Justice League full on fighting.

He's not self-destructive in the way he doesn't want to get out of bed or that he isn't clean, it's just that Dick Grayson is a machine. He's got ice in his veins and he just powers through everything. Everything he does has to be top notch, so sleep and social life and happiness can say goodbye because he's too busy for that. This is why the Titans are so important to him and for him because they realize this toxic trait of his and do their absolute best to yank him out of this bad habit because Dick certainly can't stop.

So self-destruction has become part of his personality but unlike in fics, it's conducive self-destruction. It comes from his refusal to feel any emotion that isn't for others because Big Brother Dick Grayson and Best Friend Dick Grayson are always there for everyone but the second he's asked to help himself or someone tries to help him, he flakes. He's the best at helping others and being there for them but he's allergic to getting help or talking about himself.

#dick grayson #nightwing #alfred pennyworth #donna troy #wonder girl #koriand'r #starfire #justice league #dc titans #cl randomenglishmajor asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!

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five-flavor-soup · 2 months

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i genuinely, really like aang, but keeping his writing in book 3 and his writing in the comics in mind, i don’t think it’s all that implausible for him to get the sort-of-antagonist role in fics depicting katara-ships other than KA.

reiterating, i like aang: he’s adorable, he’s funny, and he’s nice. but i believe there’s something to be said about how his ‘niceness’ is written and seen as being The Reason he ‘deserves’ a love interest. his thinking is self-centred, and though that’s a believable flaw for a kid who’s, like, twelve, we’re shown that it’s a consistent character trait which is never treated as an issue… even though it is. (and if he’s mature enough to start dating the girl he’s going to marry and have children with, he should also be mature enough to be criticised for his less-than-savoury parts of his personality, no?)

it’s not OOC to write him as being possessive of katara even when they’re not dating, because he canonically is. it’s not OOC to write him as not respecting and/or noticing katara’s boundaries, because he canonically blows past them. the ideas that he might not mature much later on, that he might be wilfully and forcefully oblivious to any discomfort in the KA relationship, that he might continue shoving katara(‘s culture) aside—none of that is necessarily OOC, because aang does not go through significant character development in book 3 + the comics.

in The Promise, there’s that weird moment wherein aang is briefly anti-miscegenation and doesn’t change his mind until katara reminds him supporting that would affect him (him!!! his relationship with katara alone!!) personally. in TLOK, there’s the suggestion that aang never actively pushed for bumi & kya to learn about air nomad culture and there’s the heavy implication that aang never told the air acolytes about bumi & kya’s existence. additionally, tenzin doesn’t even have a hint of water tribe heritage anywhere in his house to honour katara’s side: he’s all air nomad (though?? nuclear family dynamic), in spite of being mixed.

don’t get me wrong, i vastly prefer fic and hc’s in which aang is a katara supporter first and foremost, and that’s also how i prefer to move through a fandom space barring meta and analyses. but i also don’t think making him jealous and petty when she dates someone else is a misinterpretation of the text we’ve been given; canon!aang shows the signs to become that way, and it’s not wrong to read his future self that way nor is it incorrect fandom-ing to highlight these traits

#aang critical #anti aang #and #anti kataang #just to be safe #don’t wanna infringe upon anyone’s space ✌️#do i adore aang? yes #do i think that KA could’ve been way way WAY better than the babysitting fantasy we got? also yes #in the very first ep he pops out of an egg and imprints onto the first person he sees idk how more clear this should be #for legal reasons that last tag is a joke

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inkandarsenic · 2 months

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I had a dream last night that could have been a fic and I’m disappointed that it wasn’t.

It was Buck and Eddie like after the last episode after Eddie was like “this changes nothing between us” and at first, everything was fine and normal but then it became very apparent after like six months that something very much had changed between them, like Buck was still dating Tommy and Eddie was still dating Marisol and in the field they were as in sync as ever but then everywhere else there was this weird distance between them? Like they were still best friends but like fundamentally they were Buck and Eddie instead of BuckandEddie like they used to be and everyone else in the 118+ could see it and they couldn’t

And then suddenly they could see it, because Buck was at Eddie’s and something happened and he needed to change his shirt but he realized that for the first time in years, probably since Eddie got shot, Buck didn’t have anything of his at the Diaz house. A couple weeks later, Eddie was telling the 118 a story about Chris and Buck had no idea what’s going on in the story and they (Buck and Eddie) were talking about it and they realize that it’s been a while since Buck picked Chris up from school or just like had a day that was just the two of them. And then there was some gathering at Eddie’s house instead of Bobby and Athena’s, and Buck makes cookies at his loft and brings them and Maddie points it out, and Buck has a mini crisis as he realizes abruptly that he is a guest in Eddie’s house and he was looking around and the couch was new (Marisol had convinced Eddie to buy a new one) and he hadn’t even realized.

And then Eddie and Marisol and Buck and Tommy were going on a double date at Olive Garden of all places but Marisol couldn’t make it, so it was just Buck and Eddie and Tommy and it was awkward and Tommy was like “look i haven’t known you guys as long as everyone else around you but even I can tell that there is something not right here and you need to talk it out and fix it because you’re both not the same with your lives being almost completely separate, it’s like not natural for you two.”

And they start talking except it kinda devolves into grocery store fight 2.0, about Buck not being there for Chris and not being around except this time it’s kinda on both of them and it’s really no one’s fault but it’s kinda both their faults. And this argument makes its way into their work life where they’re just not as in sync in the field.

And then something happened on a call (unclear what) that wasn’t really anyone’s fault but Buck blamed himself and the current issues he’s having with Eddie, and asked Bobby to be put on B-Shift for awhile and it was just super awkward in the firehouse and Bobby was talking to Eddie and was like “I don’t know what’s going on but whatever it is you need to fix it” and Eddie was like “I dont know what’s going on either, Buck and I just aren’t the same since he started dating Tommy” and Bobby was like “maybe you need to evaluate that because that’s something that only seems to be affecting you.”

And then like a week later, Eddie and Marisol broke up, and Marisol was all “it’s because of Buck isn’t it, you love him more than me.” And Eddie did not work through that, he just went to Buck’s despite still sort of being in a fight and they got drunk on Buck’s couch and Eddie kissed Buck just kinda out of the blue and then was like “fuck I didn’t mean to do that” and left.

Buck told Tommy immediately the next time he saw him (because he learned his lesson from Taylor) and Tommy was pretty cool about it but he was also like “hey maybe you should think about that because you don’t actually seem all that upset by the fact that Eddie kissed you just that he kissed you while you’re dating me and I feel like that says something” because Tommy is a real one.

After like two weeks wherein Eddie goes to great lengths to avoid Buck outside of calls despite being on the same shift again, and Buck talking through it in therapy and with Maddie, Buck breaks up with Tommy (who again is very chill about all of it and is like “we can all still be friends just give me a little space for a while”) and then he drove to the Diaz house and Eddie saw him pulling up and met him outside and it was raining so they really should have gone inside but I digress. And Eddie was like “Buck it’s like midnight what are you doing here” and Buck was all “i broke up with Tommy because you kissed me” and Eddie was like “fuck I’m sorry I didn’t mean to do that I never meant to get in between you two” and is just sort of spiraling and Buck can’t get a word in so instead Buck kisses Eddie and Eddie is just like “Oh. So you aren’t mad.” And Buck laughed and was all “No I’m not mad I’m in love with you”

And then my neighbor’s kid started screaming and woke me up so I didn’t even get to see the ending and I’m kinda mad about it because I wanna see how everyone else reacted to all of this

#if anyone wants to write this #I would absolutely read this #if anyone has any suggestions #of fics that are similar #please im begging #911 abc #evan buckley #buddie #eddie díaz #buck x eddie #buck x tommy #dream #could have been a fic #my fanfic ideas #the 118 #tommy kinard #grocery store fight #911 #911 season 7

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autisticlancemcclain · 10 months

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Keith is acting suspicious.

Lance is sure of it. Beyond his usual shiftiness, his awkwardness, his tendency towards privacy. Lance knows his boyfriend, and he knows him well, and as such he knows enough to realise that his boyfriend is acting fuckin’ dubious.

Lance is going to snoop. (Yeah, yeah, ethical schmethical. Snooping fosters distrust in relationships and makes things tense blah blah blah. Lance recognises that. He also grew up with fucking Hunk Garrett and His Entire Family, so he also recognises that snooping is simply the best way to gather information. Fair’s fair.)

He waits until his boyfriend’s snores start to kick up, making the bedroom sound like an illegal motorized lawnmower race, and then carefully starts scooching out of his arms.

It takes a while — Keith likes to hold him. (Lance has to take a moment to calm himself down after the thought, lest he start to giggle giddily to himself, reminded that Keith loves him so much that at his most unguarded, his first instinct is to crush Lance in his arms. It’s exhilarating.) But slowly and steadily he manages to slide out of the arms around his waist, filling the newly hollow space with a pillow, and tumbles to the floor. He takes a moment, crossing his legs and sitting next to the bed, to look up at Keith, at the ratty mess of his bedhead and wide open snoring mouth and the tank top skewed across his torso, the hickeys Lance left all across his chest and collarbones peeking out.

“You are such a shit,” he whispers fondly. “I love you so bad it makes me want to, like, bite you or something. You make me weird.”

He watches Keith’s chest rise and fall until his legs fall asleep, wherein he flops onto the hardwood, wiggling his legs through the pins and needles and screeching silently into his arm (worst feeling in the WORLD) until his legs no longer feel like they’re on fire, and then he inches himself towards the right corner of the room like an inchworm.

(It’s three in the morning. No one is awake to judge him to give him shit or laugh at him or anything. He can do what he likes.)

He pulls himself up to his knees when he finally makes it to the corner, loosening his shoulders in preparation. The room is dark, so it’ll be a challenge, but this is not the first time he’s done this. Hell, it isn’t even the fiftieth. He’s a nosy person. He could do this in his sleep, probably, so in the dark is no problem.

As slowly as he can manage, to make sure it’s silent, he pries off the metal grate covering of the air vent, setting it down gently beside him. Laying down on his stomach again to get a better angle, he reaches down into the wide tube, following the curve of the cool metal, arm buried up to his shoulder, until he’s reached as far as he physically can. He carefully starts brushing his hands along the air vent, searching, feeling. It shouldn’t be too far down since his arms are way longer than Keith’s (Lance enjoys calling him T-Rex, which Keith hates and literally everyone else who knows them loves. It’s great).

Finally, his fingers brush on something small, compact, sturdy, and soft. He wraps his fist around it and slowly drags it out of the vent, keeping it in his fist as he crawls out of the bedroom and down the hall, somersaulting into the kitchen. He heads over to the fridge, figuring that if he uses the fridge light and Keith walks in, he can just pretend he’s getting a snack or something, shoving the thing he found into his pants. Keith’ll be too out of it to question it, anyway.

Laughing quietly and evilly to himself as he pulls open the fridge door, he brings his closed fist up to the light, examining the treasure he found. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light, to take in what’s in front of him.

He gasps sharply when he processes, and the treasure slips out of his hands, clattering loudly to the floor.

He freezes immediately, listening for the telltale signs of his boyfriend snorting awake, noticing Lance’s side of the bed is empty, then the sound of his footsteps as he comes to look for him.

But, fortunately, there’s nothing. The only thing Lance hears are Keith’s continued snores.

Rapidly, Lance scoops up the box and brings it back to the light. It’s unmistakable — there’s only one thing that houses in a small hinged velvet box. It explains the shiftiness over the last few weeks, too, the nervousness that Keith has been disgusting as mysterious intrigue.

Keith is going to propose. Keith is going to propose!

Smiling so widely his face hurts, Lance flicks open the box, bringing his face closer to carefully inspect the ring inside.

It’s difficult to see in the dull blue light of the fridge, but Lance starts to cry when he sees it, because he recognises this ring. This is Keith’s dad’s ring; old, heavy gold, classic princess cut diamond, simple and polished and elegant. This is the ring Keith often wears around his neck, although he rarely has as of late, for now obvious reasons. This is the ring Keith has carried with him for almost two decades. This is, without a doubt, Keith’s most prized Earthly possession, and his intent is to gift it to Lance, as a promise of his love and trust and faithfulness.

Lance has to sit down so he doesn’t pass out. He grabs a dishtowel on the way to the floor, pressing it to his face to muffle his absolutely wailing sobs, the most ugly crying he’s literally ever done in his life.

He’s so glad he snooped. If he had this reaction when Keith finally summoned the balls to ask him, his engagement photos would be so embarrassing.

He paused mid-sniffle.

Actually.

A little embarrassed of himself, he slides up his phone, holding the ring box up to his tear-swollen and smiling face to snap a picture. He looks like a mess, but it’s important to him to have a physical memory of the moment he first learned Keith planned to marry him. He’s sure he’ll cry more over it the next time he’s feeling sappy and emotional.

He doesn’t realise how long he sits, fridge wide open, back to the cabinet doors of the kitchen island, staring in awe at the ring, until his watch starts to beep.

“Fuck,” he curses, scrambling to his feet. It’s six o’clock. Keith’ll be up in fifteen minutes to go on his morning run, Lance has literally been mooning over his ring for two and a half hours.

He runs back to the bedroom, barely remembering at the last second time muffle his footsteps, shoving the ring back into the vent and pressing the grate back onto the hole. Keith stirs slightly at the noise, so Lance abandons any thought of whether or not the ring box is positioned back exactly where he found it and fuckin’ dives for the bed, reburying himself in his boyfriend’s arms and hoping he can pass it off as just having shifted around in his sleep or something. Apparently he squirms and kicks a lot (which is a lie that Keith perpetuates to take attention away from the severity of his snores), so it should be fine. Probably.

“Wh—L’nce?” Keith mumbles, stirring from behind him. He inhales deeply, arms pulling away from Lance’s and stretching out above him. Lance’s heart pounds. He forces himself to stay relaxed, to avoid squeezing his eyes shut. He prays that Keith doesn’t notice how sweaty he is.

Keith leans over to press a lingering kiss to his neck, then chuckles. Lance can feel the imprint of his smile on his skin, and tamping down his own reflexive smile is literally the hardest thing he has ever had to do in his entire life.

“You’re warm as hell,” Keith murmurs, dragging his lips down his neck, across his shoulders. His hand comes to rest in his hip, curling into the hollow there. “Betcha you were squrimin’ around in y’re sleep last night, ya worm. Betcha I’ve got bruises on my shins.” His shoulders, pressed against Lance’s back, shake with his laughter, because he is a shithead who is so lucky that Lance loves him. He presses one final kiss to Lance’s skin and then rolls out of bed. Lance listens carefully as he gets dressed in his jogging clothes and runs a brush through his hair. He falls half asleep listening to the familiar sounds, rousing slightly again when Keith ducks back in to kiss Lance’s head one last time before heading out.

Lance smiles as he falls asleep for real, after the sound of the front door opening and closing.

He’s gonna clown that dumbass so goddamn badly.

———

Lance has a love-hate relationship with pranks. On one hand, the one and only time he was sent into an asthma attack so bad he had to go to the hospital was after he and Hunk wrapped every single thing in Veronica’s room with aluminum foil while she was away on a trip, and upon seeing her reaction laughed so hard his lungs basically collapsed. He still can’t think of that without laughing. On the other hand, he’s had more than enough cruel pranks shoved his way, and never in his life wants anyone to feel humiliated because of something he did.

He can’t not prank Keith, though. He’s literally beat Keith to his own proposal. A prank is in order.

Usually, he’d call Hunk for something like that. They’ve been partners in crimes for most of their lives, after all. Pidge too, honestly. He knows they’d both get a kick out of this whole situation as well.

But…even if those dunderheads were capable of keeping their mouths shut, which they’re not, Lance kind of wants to…well, he wants to keep his proposal to himself. He likes being in on it. He likes being to only one in on it, actually. Honestly, the only thing he wants to do is brag to Keith that he knows, which defeats the whole purpose.

He straightens abruptly. A smirk spreads across his face.

He has an idea.

———

The first step is recon. He needs access to the ring, regularly and long-term, but all will be for naught if Keith realises it’s missing. He needs to know if Keith stashed the ring when he decided to propose and avoided thinking about it, or if he checks on it frequently and stresses himself out about when he’s finally going to go through with it. Both are very Keith options. In fact Lance wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow managed both at the same time, as impossible as that seems.

To get around the issue, Lance goes Spy Barbie. He waits until Keith goes out for his weekly coffee date with Shiro and Adam and then digs through his makeup kit, setting aside what he needs and sitting next to the air vent grate. He spends a good amount of time polishing the metal, making sure it’s as fresh and untouched as it was when it was first put in its package, and then he uses a wide end brush to apply a thin layer of highlighter to the white metal. He takes great care to ensure that no colour is visible, only a slight sheen if one were to look closely. And Keith doesn’t have any reason to look closely, and since Lance knows the universe loves him, he won’t.

The next step is waiting. Lance acts completely normally when Keith gets home, if a little giddy. Keith most certainly notices Lance’s giggles and affection and the way he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself, but he doesn’t seem to mind or question it. Lance does sometimes get like this, after all.

He scored a hot as hell boyfriend. He’s allowed to be a little awed sometimes. He doesn’t feel weird about it.

He does, however, mellow out in the next few days. Keith takes him to a car show, which is fucking wicked, and somehow manages to get himself and Lance behind the wheels of two 200 horsepower Mustangs for them to race, which is so exhilarating that Lance doesn’t have words for it. He just yells and jumps around about it a lot. He doesn’t actually manage to find words for a couple hours after he totally smokes Keith’s ass, but whatever. It’s cool. Keith tried his best and everything, Lance is sure.

A week later, when Keith is out on his coffee date again, Lance gets to work. He cuts a large square of parchment paper and covers it with clear packing tape, careful not to touch the sticky side, overlapping strips so they make one giant tape sheet.

Once the parchment sheet is covered, he peels off the tape, and as planned it comes off in one large sheet, slightly bigger than the air vent grate. Again careful to steer clear of the sticky part, he places the tape sheet sticky side down onto the grate, pressing down hard and rubbing to smooth it out completely flat. Once he’s sure it’s totally stuck down, he picks at one corner until it’s loose, then slowly and meticulously peels the whole sheet back. He holds the tape, now showcasing the concealer-print of the grate, up to the light, examining it with the utmost scrutiny.

Not one single fingerprint in sight. Keith has not touched the grate at all, hasn’t dug into his secret hiding spot. He is taking the refusing to think about it route, then.

Lance smirks. He reaches down and scoops up the ring, placing the grate back where it belongs and skipping out to the living room, humming jovially to himself.

Excellent.

———

The first picture Lance snaps, while biting his lip so hard to keep back his laughter it bleeds, is once again in the dead of night, two weeks after Lance first discovered the ring. Keith is sprawled out on his back this time, arms and legs askew, sheets tangled somewhere around his legs. Lance shifts so they’re both facing the same direction, then holds up his phone camera, trying to figure out how to artfully position himself for utmost devastation upon discovery. He decides eventually on a classic.

He heads over to the dresser to pick out his cutest pajamas, settling on the red spaghetti strap top with lace and short-shorts, debating on accessorizing and deciding at the last minute not to bother except for lip gloss, which is always appropriate. He climbs into bed next to Keith, gently laying his head on his chest and maneuvering one arm to wrap around Lance’s hips. The other he leaves flopped on top of the pillows. He leaves Keith’s mouth wide open because it’s funny, and goes the extra mile to mess up Keith’s hair worse than it already is, because that’s funnier. Finally he flicks open the ring case with his left hand and holds it to his face, grinning widely, and uses his right to snap a picture of the two of them. Once he’s satisfied with it, he untangles himself from the bed again, puts the ring away, presses a sticky lip gloss kiss to Keith’s cheek for funsies, and crawls back into bed for real. His sleep is sound as a baby’s.

———

The next photo doesn’t actually happen for another month. Lance fears overdoing it, and also kind of fears getting caught with the ring, so he leaves it in its hiding spot until the opportunity for another cheeky photo presents itself.

The opportunity in question arrives when Keith announces that he has arranged to drive down to the secluded beach that Lance took him too early in their relationship to spend the day. At first Lance thinks he’s proposing for real, and to check he waits until Keith has the car all packed up and ready to go and then pretends to run inside to go to the washroom. Instead he ducks into their room and tears into the air vent, grasping around until his fingers close around the box.

He scoffs to himself. Wimp.

He quickly shoves the box into his fanny pack (fanny packs are COOL and CONVENIENT and Lance will not hear a word of controversy on the subject, they are absolutely nothing like Keith’s dweeb utility belt) and sprints back to the car. When Keith asks him why he’s smirking, Lance manages to convince him that he’s just excited for the beach.

Lance should have been an actor, honestly.

He mostly forgets about the ring while they’re there. He has enough sense to keep it in the car instead of on the beach so it doesn’t get stolen, unlikely as it is, and just enjoys the day with his boyfriend. He convinces Keith to go jet skiing with him and cackles to himself as he purposely sends Keith flying off the back of it. He screeches at the top of his lungs later when Keith scoops him up from his nap and literally chucks him into the ice cold water. The two of them make really garbage sculptures of their friends in the sand to amuse themselves. They gather ugly seashells and send pictures to their friends asking them if they’ve been turned into mollusks, since there is a resemblance. The whole day was a blast. Lance firmly slots it in his top ten days of all time.

When they go for a long walk to watch the sunset, Lance snaps a picture with the ring and a very teasing grin the second Keith has his back turned. He will bring up how this was a perfect moment to propose, and he will pat Keith’s head condescendingly about it. He can’t wait.

———

The third photo is another dead-of-night-situation. Lance knows it’s repetitive, but it’s easy and it’s funny and Lance can’t resist.

To change things up a bit, he decides not to be in the photo, and also to see just how much he can get away with.

Keith is on his side, this time, one hand tucked under the pillow, one hand held loose and open on top of it. He’s been tired, lately, and when Lance says he fell asleep the second his head hit the pillow, he is not exaggerating. In fact Lance is reasonably certain he passed out in the way down. He is KOed. He’s unconscious. He is absolutely dogged out.

The timing is perfect.

Carefully, aware of the consequences should Lance make a mistake, he removes the ring from its box. He realizes abruptly that it’s the first time he’s ever done that, despite his ridiculous quest, and he finds that he can’t quite let go of the ring just yet. The metal feels cool and smooth on his finger tips; worn, even. It’s shinier than it used to be, which means Keith has probably had it professionally retouched. Resized too, probably, although Lance can’t quite bring himself to check. The diamond catches the minimal light in the room and refracts into rainbows that fall softly on Keith’s lax face, highlighting his sharp jawline, his softly squished cheek, his relaxed brow. He looks so dorky when he sleeps, completely free of the furrow of concentration that usually resides in between his eyebrows, his resting frown. His mouth is always wide open when he’s out, and the echoing of his snores is so comically loud and ridiculous but absolutely something that Lance can’t live without. He has them recorded, actually, for the rare nights they’re not home together, on the rare night Lance has to sleep alone.

Smiling softly to himself, Lance places the ring in Keith’s open palm. He rests his hand on top of Keith’s for a moment, just because he can, just to relish in the scratch of Keith’s callouses on his skin, before pulling back and steadying his phone to snap a picture. He catches it right as Keith inhales heavily, right as his nose scrunches up.

It’s goofy as hell. It’s perfect.

———

The fourth picture is the riskiest, Lance thinks. He’s taken to carrying the ring around with him everywhere, almost as if he is the one planning to propose, just in case he has a moment when Keith’s back is turned. (There really aren’t that many. Keith faces him a lot. He likes to hold Lance hand and kiss his face, neither of which you can do from behind. Lance fucking loves his boyfriend so much.)

They’re at a Thing. Lance’s parents are celebrating their fortieth anniversary, and obviously Lance is bringing Keith, and since Keith is his mother’s favourite he is encouraged to bring his family as well, which means Shiro and Adam are coming, and if Hunk and Pidge weren’t invited then someone would cry and nothing would be right in the world, and of course Veronica is bringing Allura, and Coran comes because Lance’s dad thinks he’s the funniest man to walk the Earth. And of course all Lance’s relatives are there.

The point is that it’s a full house. A couple full houses, actually, since their neighbours are also involved. It’s a lot of people in one place.

As is protocol in crowded places, Keith is essentially glued to Lance’s side. Lance is quite happy with this arrangement, because he gets to show his boyfriend off like the hot piece of ass he is, especially to his rude ass great aunties and uncles who always had something to say about Lance and his single-ness when he was still rocking braces. So.

One thing about Keith, though, is that everyone who meets him is doomed to fall in love with him forever and ever, or so Lance has noticed. His niece and nephew are no exception, and immediately upon catching sight of their uncle — Keith, that is, Lance may as well be dead meat when Tio Keith is available, which, rude — they descend upon him not unlike a vulture may descend upon a recently deceased armadillo. Or whatever. Lance didn’t grow up in the desert, he doesn’t know what happens there.

Occupied as he is, one child hanging off each arm, Keith cannot keep his vice grip on Lance’s hand. Occupied as he is, two children talking at him in a mix of Spanish and English so rapid that Lance himself cannot keep up, which is saying something because his nickname for many years was and aptly so Motormouth, Keith cannot have his full attention on Lance. In fact, even, his back is delightfully turned.

Lance doesn’t hesitate. He flicks open the ring box and snaps a picture. His grin is nothing short of gleeful and he is entirely unapologetic.

When he turns back around, ring box stuffed back into his pocket, he realizes Nadia is staring at him with wide eyes.

“You, shush,” Lance says, and then switches to Spanish so Keith, who is still learning, will miss it, “or I’ll choose a random child to be my flower girl. I swear.”

She glares at him. “This is why Tio Keith is my favourite,” she mutters, because she is a snot who acts as if Lance does not and has not for her whole life taken her on all sorts of cool awesome amazing trips and bought her cool awesome amazing presents. Who was it who bought them recorders when they were seven to terrorize Luis with? Lance. Who was it to take them to a live rocket taking off the summer they turned nine? Lance.

“You’re a brat,” he informs her.

She sticks her tongue out at him, snickering. “Side genes.”

Lance unfortunately has nothing to say to that and also refuses to be roasted by an eleven year old, so he yanks Keith away as penance and takes him to a corner somewhere to make out. He feels very smug about it.

———

The fifth time doesn’t happen.

The fifth time is a clusterfuck.

The fifth time, it’s night again, and Lance honestly doesn’t even plan on taking another picture. He’s just next to the vent, lying on his belly, legs kicking in the air as he inspects the ring for the billionth time. He’s so excited. He can’t wait to wear this on his finger. He can’t wait for Keith to put it there. He’s can’t wait to be Keith’s husband, is the crux of it all. It’s like groundhog day except with literal euphoria. Lance is the luckiest man literally alive, and Keith hasn’t even hinted towards a plan to pop the question yet.

“You are the nosiest motherfucker in the planet, you shithead.”

Lance yelps, startling so bad he almost brains himself on the floor and nearly drops the ring. He manages to catch himself with the grace of God and also probably luck, or neither of those things, but either way Lance heart nearly pounds out of his chest.

“You scared me, you butthead!”

Keith chuckles. His voice is low and raspy from sleep, vowels still rounded from the accent that only comes out when he’s mad or drunk or tired. Lance’s belly swoops. Keith grabs Lance’s ankle and tugs, dragging him over to him, pulling him upright when he’s close enough. Lance goes into him fully, curling up into him, head tucked under his chin. Keith’s hands come to rest on top of his, sliding the ring box from him.

“How long have you known, you snoop?”

“Six months,” Lance answers. “In my defense, you were acting suspicious as all hell.”

Keith kisses his head. “Fair.”

“I need to know everything about everything or I’ll die. You know this.”

Keith snorts. He takes Lance’s left hand and smooths it flat, spreading out his fingers. “Yeah. Ruined my plans, though.”

“Oh, please. You and I both know there were no plans involved. You walked by a shop advertising ring retouching and walked in before you even thought about it.”

Keith says nothing. Lance grins and presses on.

“I bet you cried the whole time, too.”

“Shut up. I’m gonna keep the ring.”

Lance kisses him on the chest, the closest place he can reach, through his sleep shirt. “No, you’re not.”

“Mhm.” Keith plucks the ring out of the box with one hand, setting it on the ground beside them and grabbing Lance’s hand with his other. “You’re right. I’m not.”

He doesn’t move for a while, except to stroke his thumb over the palm of Lance’s hand, over and over again. Lance likes the feeling. He’s always likes the feeling of Keith’s hands in him.

“I know this isn’t a fancy dinner or sunset on the beach or with your whole family present,” he murmurs. “But I’m tired of waiting, if you don’t mind me jumping the gun.”

Lance smiles widely. A tear leaks out of his eye, dripping down his face and onto Keith’s hand.

“I don’t.”

“Good.” Keith holds the ring just above Lance’s finger, poised, ready to slide it on but waiting for permission. “Lance Sanchez, will you marry me?”

“Keith Gyeong, I would want nothing more.”

Unhesitant at last, Keith slides his father’s ring onto Lance’s finger, centring it so the diamond shines brightly in the middle. It fits perfectly.

The tears stream down Lance’s face, and he can’t for the life of him pretend that they’re not, not that he’d bother. He buries his face in his fiancé’s neck and feels Keith’s own tears soaking his hair.

“I took a bunch of sneaky pictures of me holding the ring in front of you,” Lance admits.

Keith laughs. “Of course you did.”

“I carried the ring around for months.”

“Checks out.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lance.”

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

Keith hums, tilting his head up and kissing him properly, entwining their hands so they can both feel the ring press against skin. “No more waiting for you, sweetheart.”

———

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famwhy · 11 months

Text

Right Way Up (03)

Stranger Things

Yandere! Steve Harrington X F!Reader, Yandere! Eddie Munson X F!Reader, Yandere! Billy Hargrove X F!Reader

Synopsis: You always hated when your favourite characters died in shows or movies; always longed to have the opportunity to save them. So when you're transported into one of your favourite shows of all time, what else are you supposed to do besides save your beloved characters?

Warnings: Threat/violence, Gore, Mentions of sexual content (implicit), Death, Manipulation, Depictions of toxic relationships, Drugs and alcohol abuse

Note: I know Steve's initials are on this chapter but that doesn't mean this chapter is focused on him, just a head's up.

prev part. masterlist. next part.

03. bring unto me altruism

trait: s.h.

"YOU know him?"

Your gaze wandered over the top of the BMW, breaking away from the (very sturdy-looking) back of Billy Hargrove to instead lock eyes with Steve Harrington—the latter of which had his own optics thoroughly narrowed in your direction.

"Huh?"

"The new guy—" he scoffed out, and you watched as his lips tugged down, brows furrowed very harshly, "—do you know him?"

Ah, shit. You have got to stop slipping up, Y/N.

"No." The response came out quick—and you turning around to face Billy again came quicker. He was still walking off—skinny jeans making it almost impossible to ignore his figure, very clearly outlining his... ahem just as they had in the show. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know him, though."

"Ew, gross."

"Oh please, like you can talk."

"I can talk, actually, and—hey! Where are you going?"

Midway through his sentence, you had started off towards the school, strutting after the dirty blonde with just as much feigned confidence in your walk as he.

It was rude to walk off halfway through a conversation but that was probably the least of your worries right now. You had a plan and if you wanted to execute it, you couldn't let Billy out of your sight.

"Y/N?"

"Just heading to class, don't worry. Walk Nancy to her first period then head to yours, 'kay? I'll be fine."

What exactly were you doing? Simple—remember the other day when you had no clue where you were going and had to rely on Steve to get you to your classes? Well, today, you could follow Billy Hargrove and, with any luck, you'd end up finding the counselor without having to ask for help and sounding suspicious.

Although, the last of anyone's guesses as to why you were acting peculiar would be that you came from a whole other world; one wherein they were all characters on a screen with almost three-quarters of them being completely irrelevant to the plot and, therefore, not even paid the littlest of attention to by the audience.

Still, better to be safe than sorry.

You had many more worries running rampant in your mind, all loud and overwhelming, grand and all-consuming—almost to the point where you had bumped into the defined back of the 80s bad boy; a defined back which, all of a sudden, wasn't moving like it was just moments ago.

Why did he stop?

The answer to that question was written clearly on the solid plate stuck to the blank, beaten door before you: COUNSELOR.

Your ears perked up as a jingle sounded from the metal knob, a strong, slightly-tanned hand wrapped firmly around it.

The door refused to budge.

"Ah shit," came the steady curse of the broad male. His body had shifted after that, and even an idiot could tell that he was about to turn around, so you did what any sane person would do—you flung yourself to the side and crashed your butt against one of the chairs snugly tucked against the wall.

Ouch... you'd think the chairs next to the guidance counselor's office would be a little more comfy to land on.

If Billy had found your actions at all weird, he showed no signs of it—choosing, instead, to plop himself down on the seat next to you; pink lips pulled into a straight line and ocean-blue gaze as cool as steel. If eyes were the windows to the soul, then Billy's glass panes were sure-as-hell foggy beyond belief because you hadn't grasped a single glance at his soul.

But... you still knew what it looked like, the shattered crystals left behind in the wake of his past, ready to prick whoever dared come near with their razor-sharp edges—and that thought had your heart squeezing painfully, both in sympathy and guilt; sympathy for his unfortunate circumstances and... guilt for knowing so much about this boy who hadn't a single clue that you existed before... well, any of this.

"'S there a reason for your staring, princess?"

You blinked, all of a sudden being the recipient of a grin that didn't quite seem to reach the eyes of the sender.

"Huh?"—damn, caught lost in thought again—"Oh! Uh, you're my new neighbour, right?"

He arched a brow.

"Cherry Lane?" You added. "My brother told me someone moved in and you don't look like anyone I know."

His mouth stayed sewn shut and you chose to keep going.

"I think I saw you get out of your car earlier too, there was a California tag on it, is that where you used to live?"

Again. No words. Though, this time, his lips pulled taut and any sign of that previous expression had vanished.

"I always thought the Golden Coast was pretty." You weren't an idiot, you saw the change in his expression—the shift in his gaze—but you didn't let it stop you, continuing to speak with a small, gentle smile, "I'm thinking of going one day."

His eyes had softened a little at that, and he parted his lips—looking as though he was about to speak—when, all of a sudden, a sound reverberated through the near-empty hall, and he closed them once more, raising a brow before sending a pointed look your way.

You felt it coming, the rumble deep down in the pits of your stomach, but you were helpless in stopping it—in containing it—and it arrived before you could even blink—

—a low growl.

Your fist rose up, a light cough leaving your mouth as your gaze awkwardly drifted to the side. "I, uh, didn't eat this morning."

Silence.

Then—to your utter surprise—soft, mirthful chuckles flooded your ears, causing you to whip your head around so fast, you almost sprained your poor neck. Beside you was a sight for sore eyes; one that resulted in your jaw dropping all the way to the floor and your eyes practically bulging out with how much they'd widened.

Billy Hargrove—the Billy Hargrove—was laughing.

His soft, golden curls bounced with each bout of snickers that left his mouth—beautiful, azure eyes crinkled and barely visible past his squinted lids—and yet—they still looked just as striking as usual, as mesmerising and jaw-dropping as on TV—if not, more so.

And then, it really sank in.

You made Billy Hargrove laugh.

And it wasn't some fake, obligatory giggle—nor was it that little, psychotic laugh he did when hysteria clouded his usually-cold gaze—no, it was full-blown, genuine laughter. And you caused it.

That thought had your chest swelling with a lot more pride than it probably should've—

"What's up with the tattoo?"

The question left his mouth much more comfortably than his previous words, flowing out with a small, slightly-smug quirk of his lips, and it took you a moment to register the fact that he had stopped chuckling, his gaze having drifted down—specifically, towards your wrist.

You trailed his gaze, finding yourself being met with the three, thick lines that had been there since the day you arrived in this world and—unsure of why they were there yourself—you shrugged. "Dunno, I think I got it while blackout drunk once."

Something about your response must've been funny because he officially chuckled for the second time since meeting you. "I didn't know you country folk knew how to party that hard."

Now, you might've not been from Hawkins yourself but... something about the way he said that had your eyes narrowing slightly in his direction, and you sprung up from your seat, the underside of your thighs suddenly being greeted by cold air.

"Watch it. We can party just as hard as you Calis."

Your pupils grew shaky as you stood there, watching the next set of his actions with a tingling feeling deep down in your stomach.

One hand on his denim-clad knee, defined biceps flexing as he slowly rose up—your eyes rising with him. And as he took a step closer to you—lips twitching further up with a glint in his eyes you couldn't quite discern—you found yourself starting to slowly lose your breath, hands growing just the slightest bit clammy with the sudden blaze of active nerves you were struck with.

"Yeah?"

You gulped. "Yeah."

You felt hyper-aware as a rough, sun-kissed hand slid around your waist—fitting perfectly against the curve of your back, slowly dragging you closer, and sending a flurry of pleasant tingles straight up your spine to meet with the group that started to steadily arise in your chest; a chest that was mere millimetres from the thin, cotton material that covered his own.

Then, he leaned towards your ear, lips grazing the lobe as he whispered—a sultry lull bleeding into his tone—"Why don't you show me just how hard you can party, huh?"

Your breath audibly hitched in your throat but—before you could fret over what he'd say next, how he'd respond to your silly, little fumble—a 'click!' sounded from your side, and you threw yourself straight out of his sturdy arms quicker than a bolt of lightning—just in time, too, for the face of an older woman emerged from within the office not even moments later.

"Ah," the lady nodded, "you must be William."

Your eyes flitted over to him just in time to catch the way his jaw ticked.

"It's Billy, actually." And when he responded, his voice came out cold, different to the playful lilt it held just moments before.

It didn't take a genius to figure out the name struck a nerve.

"Ah, my bad. Would you like to come in and grab your schedule, Billy?"

He didn't respond but did as she asked, brushing past you to walk into the smaller room, only sharing a brief few seconds of eye-contact as he walked past—but those brief few seconds were enough to grant you just a tiny glimpse into the thunderous storm hidden within the pools of his irises—

—and as the door shut behind him, your lips tugged down.

You couldn't help but let your mind wander to the way his muscles seemed to tense up at the mention of California, freeze in what you could safely assume was caused by his longing to return to the freedom of his home state.

To be forced to depart from your home was nothing new, but you truly felt for Billy and his circumstances. His dad was more than hard on him—he was downright abusive, and Billy was forced to endure it without a single soul in his corner to help him through it, to guide him down the right path and teach him how to break out of the cycle of abuse he was forced into upon being born.

He was only eighteen. A goddamn child. He shouldn't have had to go through what he did.

He should've had the chance to redeem himself.

But that chance was squandered in Season 3, ripped from him akin to how his life was—a grotesque limb of mixed flesh having pierced through his chest, several other messed-up tentacles latched painfully onto his sides, bleeding him dry, draining the life from his eyes.

He didn't deserve to die.

Officially bummed-out by your own trail of thoughts, you heaved out a sigh before your ears perked up at a familiar 'click!' and your head snapped to the door again.

Out came Billy, the smug twitch of his lips back on his face—it was so comfortably situated there, in fact, that if any other person had seen it, they'd have assumed it was there the whole time.

But, despite him looking perfectly fine as he walked out of the old office, you still felt the urge to fly into his arms and wrap him in an embrace filled to the brim with promises; promises to at least provide him some level of support for what he was going through and what he would go through. Though, unlike with Eddie, you couldn't act upon it.

See, Billy and Eddie were two completely different people—where Eddie had brushed off your sudden hug quite easily—happily welcomed it, even—Billy would definitely question it, especially considering the fact that he didn't even know who you were.

And so, although it took all of your willpower, you refrained from throwing yourself onto him—choosing, instead, to stand still as he sauntered over, fingers rising up to brush against your shoulder gently; teasingly.

"See ya 'round, princess."

Instantly, a flurry of tiny, winged creatures erupted in your stomach, sending tingles through your body—up your spine to seize you at your throat, clawing into your windpipe and rendering you motionless in astonishment and awe and—

Was it just you or was it getting hot in here?

"Y/N?" You blinked, attention turning to the dark-haired female suddenly stood before you. "What are you doing here?"

Forcing yourself to forget that... whatever that was, you let a small, sheepish smile curve onto your lips. "Actually, miss, do you mind if I ask for a reprint of my schedule?"

"A reprint?" She rose a brow, arms slowly folding over her chest. "I thought you already had it memorised."

"Oh, uh,"—cue a small, nervous giggle—"you see, it kinda like... slipped my mind, y'know? And I already lost my old one so... can I have that reprint?"

She stood there for a little while longer—letting you really bask in the glory of her heavy judgement—before finally heaving out a sigh through her nose, sounding like she just aged up another ten years as she spun on her heel, full, brown curls bouncing after her.

The ground was smooth, friction practically non-existant as you rocked on your heels, awaiting the piece of paper with bated breath. The ticks of the clock suddenly didn't seem so much like white noise anymore as impatience furrowed your brows and your teeth jutted out, sinking a little into your bottom lip in anticipation.

Then, with a loud, echoing, "Y/N!"—someone had called out to you, but their voice was too high-pitched to be the one you were looking to hear—not to mention the fact that it came from the hall to your right as opposed to the office in front of you.

Your head whipped around just in time to have your whole body jerk a little as a girl skidded to an abrupt stop right next to you, her brown, soft-looking hair bouncing with an almost unnecessary amount of volume.

In her hands were several pieces of bright orange paper, all inked with a few words you couldn't quite make out—not without squinting at least.

"Hey!"

"Uh, hey..."

Who the hell was this again?

"How have you been? You haven't been to practice for a while now, the girls are pretty worried." As she spoke, she tucked a stray strand behind her ear and you squinted—trying to figure out where you'd seen her in the show.

"Oh, uh, I've just been a little sick, that's all."—seriously, who was this girl?—"I'm fine now though."

"That's great to hear!" She beamed, though her smile didn't quite seem to reach her eyes. "Listen, I'm having this party on Halloween and... I wanted you to be the first invite."

She extended one hand—flyer fit snugly between her fingertips—and you reached out, wrapping your fingers around the other end before she released it.

Eyes falling down, you took in the words written in... well, you didn't even know what font that was: TINA'S HALLOWEEN BASH. Come and get Sheet Faced.

Oh, so this was Tina.

"You'll be there, right?"

Your eyes flew back up and you were met with her intense gaze, swirling with a desperate, expectant plea you were almost saddened to see.

"Yeah," you nodded, "I'll be there."

If anyone saw the way her shoulders fell and the muscles on her face relaxed at your words, they would've assumed you took some sort of heavy anvil off her shoulders, freeing her of some sort of imaginary weight that was supposedly weighing her down.

"Thank you," she breathed out, voice practically inaudible over the air leaving her lungs.

Damn, were you that influential?—so much so that your presence would make or break a party?

"No problem?"

If you were being completely honest, you had no idea what to think of Tina—her character wasn't very explored in the show considering the fact that her role was very minor, the only thing she was really used for was the Halloween bash. But just from these few minutes with her alone, you could tell she was someone who heavily valued reputation.

"Okay, well, I should go," her voice pierced through your thoughts. "I'm thinking of inviting the new kid."

You parted your lips—about to say goodbye—when she twirled around and took off running, not even bothering to spare another glance your way.

Rude.

But as your gaze drifted down to the piece of paper in your hands once more, you found yourself uncaring of her rather unorthodox departure—too busy thinking about... something else.

"Y/N, here's your schedule."

Ah, nevermind the bash, you had your schedule now. You could finally know where you were meant to be for each period—albeit, it would take you a while to actually find the places but at least you knew what subjects you were meant to be in during the week. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Speaking of class, you were long overdue for your first period—

—and your teacher seemed to agree on that too, judging by the harsh glare situated on his face as soon as your sheepish form walked through the door. But hey, could he blame you? No, you were just trying to find your way around this stupid maze of a school.

Luckily, getting to your second class was much easier seeing as you passed it on your way to the first—but that didn't make it any less difficult to have to sit through. You were in Stranger Things—for fuck's sake!—what the hell did Newton's Third Law have to do with it?

You weren't ashamed to admit that you didn't pay attention to any of the other classes leading up to lunch—nor were you opposed to confessing the huge sigh of relief you let out once the long break period finally arrived, because—c'mon—who the hell paid attention to class when they just got transported to another world?

Not you.

So yes, you were currently happily strolling through the halls with your arms crossed over your books as you hugged said items to your chest, no sign of Steve in sight—but, you did catch a glimpse of a very familiar Lion's mane by a set of grey lockers in the corner of your eye.

"Eddie!"

Your voice must've come suddenly because he jumped as soon as you called out to him, head turning your way and one hand situating itself above his heart after he saw you. "Oh, Y/N!"

Your lips twitched up at just the sight of him. "What happened to 'sweetheart'?"

"Oh, uh, you want me to call you that? In front of all these people?"

And just like that, your lips tugged down. "Of course, why would that be a problem? Unless you're uncomfortable with it yourself—in which case, you don't have to call me by it."

Immediately, his head shook from side-to-side, messy hair bouncing crazily along with it. "No, no, not at all... sweetheart."

You'd be lying if you said that the nickname didn't garner a reaction from you; didn't result in your chest swirling with a blazing warmth.

Though, it also seemed to result in the jaw of the person stood next to him dropping to the floor; the same person you had just noticed was there in the first place. He had hair that was just as curly as Eddie's, but—unlike the male you knew—his was cut shorter, barely reaching past his ears really.

You knew this guy, he was one of Eddie's friends.

What was his name again? It started with a G. Let's see... Gavin..? No... Gary..? No...

Oh!

"Gareth right?" Relief washed through your insides when his head nodded, eyes wide and seeming to look through you, almost as if he couldn't even believe you were there, "It's so nice to meet another friend of Eddie's!"

"Another?" He seemed to have shot out of his trance at that, and it wasn't long before he gave you an incredulous look, gaze flickering over from you to Eddie, to you to Eddie, over and over again.

Then, all too suddenly, he pulled on the other male's arm and yanked him to the side—not even 3 feet of you—before resuming, "You're friends with the Queen Bee? How the hell did that happen?"

"You think I know?!"

Eddie's response was enough to garner a chuckle from you, causing both boys to quickly return their gazes to your form. Before they could comment on their fuck-up however, another voice came bellowing down the hall, calling out to you.

"Y/N!"

Unlike with Gareth before, you recognised that pretty face paired with those luscious ginger strands of hair straight away. How could you not? You had practically seen a thousand edits of them along with the 'Chrissy Wake Up' song on TikTok. Kinda hard to forget her after the Internet did its magic.

Though, it wasn't exactly unpleasant to be meeting her, and so, you gave her as bright a smile as you could muster. "Chrissy! Hey!"

"Hi!" She beamed right back at you, but unlike Tina, Chrissy's smile genuinely reached her glinting eyes, even going as far as adorably crinkling them up a little. "Tina said you were feeling fine now, do you mind coming to practice today? Only if you're okay! I know you've been sick so take as much rest as you need and don't feel pressured."

How the hell could you say no to that?

"Yeah, okay, sure! I'll come with you to practice."

You weren't sure how it was possible, but she seemed to light up even further at that, almost blinding you like the little ball of sunshine she was.

In fact, she was so distracting, you almost forgot the presence of the two boys dressed in a completely different colour pallet to you. Keyword: almost.

"Looks like that's my cue." You turned their way—if only to save your eyesight from genuinely deteriorating due to the light that was Chrissy. "It was nice meeting you, Gareth. Good to see you again, Eddie."

Just before departing, you ghosted your fingers over the covered shoulder of Eddie, wiggling them about like you had done to Steve just the day prior; a signature goodbye, if you will.

And as you walked down the halls, you picked up on one last thing coming from Gareth's mouth... one last thing that was enough to drill your feet straight into the ground.

"Eddie? Eddie, wake up!"

That phrase...

Flashes of Season 4 infiltrated your gaze; of the unfortunate victims that had their lives stripped from them; of the very girl stood next to you's body flying up, limbs distorting as they snapped irregularly, eyes not even having the pleasure of losing light with how unjustly they were gauged out from her.

Had you messed up somehow?

Had the events of Season 4 ended up being triggered too early by your mere existence?

The questions overwhelmed you—flooded through your senses and clogged up your airways with their untimely arrival. You were a puppet and they were the strings, ushering you to turn around; to rid yourself of the wool pulled over your eyes—of the blissful ignorance surrounding your form—and, helpless to their influence, you did exactly that.

Slowly, your head reared backwards—the room spinning around you—and your eyes were greeted by a welcome sight; one that breathed life back into your limbs.

Eddie stood there—eyes still very much on his face—with a familiar, light blush spread across his cheeks. Even as his form was being rapidly shook by his dear friend, he remained still, gaze trained on you. He only seemed to have snapped out of it after making proper eye-contact with you.

Two blinks. A small, shy raised hand. And a tiny wave.

False alarm. He was just flustered.

It made sense, your previous actions could be interpreted as flirting after all—and to be honest, you didn't really mind if it was (again, the Eddie Munson)—but, you'd be lying if you said he didn't just give you a bit of a scare there.

The sentence that just came out of Gareth's mouth was the very same, infamous sentence uttered by Eddie's lips just before the first death of Season 4—a rather brutal death involving the very ball of sunshine that was just tasked to retrieve you.

Speaking of that ball of sunshine—

"Y/N, you coming?"

You blinked, quickly returning Eddie's wave before whipping your head back around to face the ginger next to you once again.

You had to admit, it was very surreal coming face-to-face with people from the show who were meant to die—it felt kinda like seeing a ghost, and a part of you (just a teensy-weensy, little part) found it... well... unsettling.

But, that was just a small part.

"Yeah. Let's go."

You shook off the residual fear that lingered from that little moment before finally continuing to follow Chrissy down the hall.

The whole walk was full of her detailing you on the failed practices of the cheerleaders in your absence. Apparently, Heather tried and failed to do a cartwheel into a back-flip as part of one of the routines before dramatically throwing her pompoms to the ground and angrily muttering that you could do it instead.

You had no idea who Heather was but you wished you were there to see it.

Oh, and—with you gone—it seemed as though a lot of the girls had taken to slacking off, opting to gaze longingly at the sweaty boys that played basketball just across the Gym instead of actually being productive.

You doubted that would get any better with Billy around now.

"Well, well, well," a high-pitched voice sliced through your thoughts and you blinked, finally noticing that you arrived at the Gym. "Look who finally decided to show up."

You recognised that puffed-up, blonde hair from the first day of your arrival, the stance she took on being an almost-exact replica of the one back in the infirmary.

"Finally done punching the daylights out of some random freak in school?" She scoffed out.

"Sarah," Chrissy hissed from beside you, "don't say that. Y/N's been sick recently."

"Sick of being just as aggressive as her brother?" Sarah rolled her eyes.

Before you could retort with your own defense, however, someone else had piped in—that person being a brunette with rather short, straight hair, "You're talking like you don't wanna fuck him."

Uh—what?

"Jenny!" Your eyes flitted over to the blonde just in time to catch her reddened cheeks.

"What? It's true, isn't it?"

"Whatever, let's just..."

Sarah trailed off there, jaw hanging open as her eyes seemed to land on something not within your immediate eyesight. And when you found yourself following her gaze—you located the subject of her interest, the lack of words suddenly making sense.

Golden curls you had the pleasure of seeing up close just this morning were farther now, having just barely passed through the entrance. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips as the electricity in his eyes zapped through the Gym before finally landing on you, lips edging up into what you could only call a smirk.

It wasn't long before he sauntered over, practically demanding all of the attention in the room with his walk; attention which was happily handed over to him on a sleek, silver plate.

"All this time I've been calling you princess... when you've really been a queen," as he spoke—voice as husky as ever—a teasing lilt laced into his tone, intensifying his gaze and overwhelming you with his suffocating presence. "Why didn't you say anything, dollface?"

Breathe, Y/N, breathe. Stand your ground.

You tried to, you really did—but, the only way you'd be able to keep your composure right now was by closing your eyes and pretending you didn't see him—

—so you did exactly that.

Your lashes fluttered shut and you envisioned a blank sea of darkness before uttering out a response, "Didn't think it was important."

"Yeah?" Now, while you might not have been able to see him, you could still very well hear him, and his voice was nothing short of the perfect mixture between smooth and rough and—

Stop. It.

For your own sake—and for fear of further falling apart—you chose not to say anything and only nodded.

That was a mistake.

Instant regret hit you square in the face when you felt the gentle touch of a few, rough fingers against your chin, tilting your head just enough to rest at an angle before a surge of warm air tickled your lashes.

And as he spoke—lips almost grazing your closed lids—those familiar flying pests made their home in your stomach, "Where'd those pretty eyes of yours go? Didn't seem to stop wanting to use them this morning."

Damn him and his smoothness.

In an effort to continue to save face, you resorted to squeezing your eyes even further shut—paying no mind to the blissful warmth slowly coating your form or the teasing snickers that left the bad boy's mouth; snickers which you could practically feel the vibrations of.

"What's the matter? Have I rendered Miss Queen Bee speechless?"

Your vision was dark but you could still see the smug smirk on his face. Just wait until you gathered yourself, you were gonna make him ten times more flustered than you—just wait.

The light clearing of a throat suddenly served as a reminder that you two weren't the only ones in the room and you found yourself feeling a little... cold when Billy pulled away.

Cold? Ugh, once again, damn him and his smoothness.

Finally deeming it safe to do so, you opened your eyes, blinking a few times to adjust to the light once more before you were finally able to make out the slowly-shrinking figure of Billy Hargrove. But just as he reached the entrance of the Gym once more, he paused, one hand firmly gripping onto the frame as he called out to you over his shoulder.

"Keep your bed nice and warm for me, will ya, dollface?"

Your jaw dropped.

Someone else then said something along the lines of 'oh my god' but—if you were being honest—you were barely able to hear it over the echo of Billy's snickers as he walked away, completely amused by your reaction no doubt.

He was so unequivocally bold, you almost couldn't believe it.

"Uh, guys, I think I'm gonna take a raincheck on practice today." But, it seemed as though the other girls definitely could—judging by how the very girl who said this rushed right after Billy.

"Me too!"

"Yeah, uh, I think I'm feeling a little sick."

"Well, I, for one, am chasing up that boy."

"Not if I get him first!"

And as a majority of them rushed after the handsome male, you found yourself deadpanning.

"Bruh."

You definitely couldn't blame them though, the rest of your day was spent recalling all those scenes with him after all. Even Steve noticed your absent-mindedness in the last period of the day—trying several outlandish things to grab your attention that he only informed you of once the lesson was over.

You didn't even notice him waving his arms wildly in front of your face while the teacher's back was turned.

And even as you walked beside him, Nancy strutting ahead of the two of you after you'd picked her up from class, you still had your head roaming around in the clouds.

"Hey, Y/N?"

You hummed, half-listening, half-not.

Steve then leaned further your way, shoulder brushing your own as he whispered against your ear. "Wish me good luck?"

You blinked up at him, having paid enough attention to scrunch up your nose in confusion and ask, "Good luck for what?"

"The dinner. At Barb's?"

A few more blinks.

And then—

"Ohhhhh."

Nancy turned around at that, and Steve was quick to hush you. He only resumed talking when she faced forward once more—albeit, slower than she turned around.

"What are you doing? Trying to get me in trouble?!" His whisper came out harsh, and you winced a little.

"Alright, alright, gheez."

His attitude seemed to be at an all-time high because he rolled his eyes after that. "I just... don't get why I have to go to this stupid dinner anyway."

"Steve." It was your turn to harshly whisper. "Don't say that. Nancy needs closure, this dinner is exactly that."

You felt for Steve just a tad bit, it wasn't his best friend that died after all (thank god for that) but that didn't mean he got to complain about attending a dinner his girlfriend wanted him to be at because he was there the night of the first attack; of the first murder.

See, Barbara (or Barb) had been Nancy's best friend—the two being practically attached by the hip—so of course the night she died would be one that Nancy deeply regretted, and of course she would want closure with the parents of her best friend. It just made sense.

In fact, the whole reason why she did any of what she did in Season 2 was so that she could inform Barb's parents (who still thought their child was out there somewhere) that their kid was, in fact, dead.

"Y/N, you there?"

Caught in a monologue? Seriously, Y/N? What are you, the main character?

"Yeah, I'm here."

Seeing as you were already outside and stood right by Steve's car—you slotted your hand between the cold of both the handle and the door before pulling it open, leaping straight in, and causing the whole vehicle to jerk in a symphony of loud clangs from sheer force.

"Hey! Careful!" It seemed like your music wasn't appreciated by Steve though.

"Relax. It's not like I broke it or anything—" feeling like messing with him—because duh—a smirk slowly twitched onto your lips, "—besides, it's excited to see me, aren't you, girl?"

Steve let out another hiss when you patted the seat a little too harshly—sounding akin to a pissed off feline which just made him seem less menacing and more adorable.

Ha, you tried, Steve, you tried.

The click of the passenger door drew your eyes over to Nancy's form, watching as her legs entered one at a time before she took a seat and turned your way—"We're dropping you off then heading straight over to Barb's."—then, turning to Steve, "Right, Steve?"

You could already hear the grumbled out 'yes' coming from him and you only sent him a grin seeping with amusement when he met your gaze through the rear-view mirror—your lips stretching further as he mouthed the words 'help me' with anguish in his eyes.

"You two have fun, yeah?"

You said the sentence to piss Steve off even further but when you caught a glimpse of the look on Nance's face, a pang shot straight through your chest.

Her eyes had this far-away look about them as her lips curved up by a very small amount—though there was no joy in it, only grief.

"Hey..." you placed one hand on the shoulder of her seat, using it to pull yourself forward as you furrowed your brows, worry clouding your gaze. "You alright?"

She sniffled a little before waving her hand and nodding in response. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Let's go."

Your lips tugged down and you shared a look with your best friend before he started the engine, breathing life into the vehicle as you slowly lowered your body back down onto the leather seat.

She wasn't fine; even without knowledge from the show, you could tell. She might not have been crying but her lip was definitely quivering a little and her eyes... well, they just weren't all... present in the moment.

But, she would be fine. And that was enough.

Besides, though it was cold to say, you had bigger things to worry about. Nancy would get help from Jonathan in order to come to terms with Barb's death—meanwhile, you had no one to help you out with all the spare knowledge you stored in your brain; with all the premonitions (if you could call it that) you were blessed with.

Perhaps it was time you started preparing for another bout with the demodogs—you were Steve's best friend, after all; that probably meant you'd most likely end up facing the dogs together with him later on in the Season.

"Y/N."

You perked up at the call of your name, shaking away the thoughts clinging to your brain.

"We're here."

Lo and behold, so it seemed you were, the familiar sidewalk leading up to your house being visible through the clear glass panes beside you.

Clicking open the door, you took one step out before swinging the rest of your body to follow after, and once you closed the door again, you walked over to the passenger-side window—shoes barely making a sound against the ground—before your knees bent down a little and you tapped lightly against the glass.

"Let the Hollands know I wish them the best, okay?" You offered a gentle smile to the girl sat before you, and she tried her best to muster one up in return.

"Okay..."

"See you guys."

And with a brief wave, you quickly spun around and headed towards the relatively-normal house.

You now—thankfully—had keys of your own so there was no need to knock or anything. Well—it was more like you had them all this time but didn't know where they were and just so happened to find them the other day but—details, details.

After fiddling with the keys a little, you heard a 'click!' and pushed against the handle before entering, one hand moving behind you to carefully shut the door.

"I'm home."

Curt's voice was the first to greet you—albeit, not very genuinely. "Congratulations, want a trophy?"

Uh, yes, actually. You would very much like a trophy after coming back home in one piece in the world of Stranger Things.

"We're having pasta tonight!" Luckily, Cain's words were a lot more welcoming than the other brother.

So, as was your right, you ignored your second oldest brother in favour of responding to the first. "Ooh! Pasta?!"

You had to admit, his cooking the other night was rather good—okay, it was magnificent, you just didn't wanna admit it because you stormed off the other day before being able to properly finish it.

But now that you could—

Before you could finish that train of thought, three loud knocks resounded through the room, no doubt coming from the door behind you.

Huh.

Was that Steve? Did he forget to say something?

You lightly wrapped your palm around the handle, turning it slowly before the door was open once more, a sudden, light breeze hitting you square in the face—

—though, the breeze could never be more sudden than who you saw at the door.

It wasn't your swooshy-haired companion to greet you on the other side—no—but rather, an older woman with barely visible bags underneath her drooping eyes; eyes which seemed to have lost all light, almost appearing chillingly lifeless—

—well, that was until they lit up at the sight of you.

"Oh, Y/N! Baby! I've missed you so much!"

And as she threw herself onto your form—arms engulfing you wholly, emotionally—you found yourself blanking out for once, only one thought popping up in your head:

What. The. Fuck.

@bdudette, @tanyaherondale, @killerqueenfan, @l3xiluve, @thedoubleexposurephotography, @xxqueenofdemonsxx, @briarsheart, @nickey-diano, @uselessbutinteresting, @steeldaisies, @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom, @patheticreative, @majestichugs, @eddiesbitch83, @secretdryrose, @bloodywickedvamp, @charlizekkelly

Did Billy give you guys butterflies or what? 😏 (Srsly tho, I need to know if I'm writing him well—)

493 notes · View notes

mimimui · 11 months

Note

okay bllk boys as your not so bf was so good BUT IF you are willing to, could you do a sequel where reader either distances themselves or something along those lines

distance (doesn't) make the heart grow fonder (blue lock)

[ first part ] wherein you distance yourself from (character).

includes: isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin

tags: one-sided, use of profanity, angst if you squint hard enough, boys annoyingly oblivious to reader's feelings, not proofread

a/n: (again) inspired by my not-so bf. i know the longing and mixed signals all too well :p this request has been collecting dust in my ask box but living rent-free in my head so .. enjoy !

you were always the one initiating conversations with isagi. not like you minded though, as long as you got to talk to him, you were happy. you can remember the first conversation you had with him as clear as day—you asked him which page the assignment was. you thought it was an absolutely brilliant plan to start talking to him regularly. it worked, obviously.

but then you noticed how dry his messages were. when you sent him three or four, he would reply back with one. isagi wasn't usually like this, no, he would return your energy all the time. it didn't bother you at first because you know he's busy with his sports, but his disinterest was getting more apparent.

you thought you were a bother to him; you thought you were annoying him, so you slowly stopped talking to him until neither of you spoke to each other at all. you stopped greeting him when you saw him, and you always saw his indifferent facial expression. uncaring, unconcerned.

it's like he forgot all about the conversations you shared. had he suddenly forgotten how close you two were? had he never cared about you? bullshit.

you waited for bachira to put his arm over your shoulders like he usually does, but he didn't today. you brushed it off, maybe he just wasn't feeling clingy yet. bachira always is touching you one way or another when you're together, but he suddenly stopped doing it.

you found it weird when he quickly retracted his hand from you when yours brushed against his. you also found it weird when he was suddenly leaning away from you in class, rather than leaning towards you. it was really weird when he was purposely standing far away from you. no matter how much you tried to get close, he would just move.

saying this only hurt you a bit was an understatement. of course it hurt you a lot, why was bachira suddenly ignoring you? you don't recall doing anything wrong or making anything awkward, so it's uncharacterisitc for him to be so... distant from you.

you decided to do the same. ignore him, distance yourself from him, and stop talking to him. you don't even know if he still considers you a friend.

chigiri slowly stopped asking to borrow your things. you didn't see anything wrong with it, but when you see him borrow things from other people, you feel a bit off about it. you thought it was stupid to feel this way—why is your heart sinking when you see him go up to someone else when he needs something?

you always gave him what he needed. you were always there when he needed something, and you were always happy to help. you loved helping him, actually. the smile he gives you when you let him borrow something is something you treasure.

it shouldn't hurt to see him borrow things from other people, it feels stupid to act this way. but you can't help it. you wouldn't be bothered by it, but the way he also stopped talking to you is what irks you the most. 'okay, you don't need to borrow my things anymore, but at least talk to me?' you think.

chigiri always gave back the things he borrowed from you safe and sound. the only thing he's ever stolen was your heart, and you're afraid he'll return it broken.

you sigh once again as you wait for nagi to go online on the game you two agreed to play together. he said he was going to go on soon, but it's been an hour, and you're bored out of your mind. you message him once more, hoping he'll reply this time. your smile drops as soon as you see his message: "can we play next time? im tired"

there was in fact no 'next time', because you haven't played a game with nagi in forever. every time you ask him to play with you, he will always reject you. he isn't the kind of person to decline a game invite, so you thought it was weird for him to suddenly be tired of playing video games.

games aren't as fun to play when you're alone. but nagi isn't joining you, so you just don't play at all. you were only ever excited to play because he was with you. when you see him online, you're quick to open the in-game chat, but then you notice he's playing with someone else.

it shouldn't bother you, really, but it's funny that you closed your game and went offline. you haven't played that game since.

you understand that reo was a busy person, but you never thought he'd get busy to the point where he no longer has time to spend with you. before, he'd always put in the effort to make time for you, no matter what. but it seems he's forgotten about your planned hangout again because he didn't show up.

the barista gave you a free drink and tried to give you words of encouragement, but you were quick to thank and dismiss them. you left the cafe that day wondering if you meant anything special to reo. he's always treated you differently than others, that's for sure. but did it ever actually mean anything?

you stare at the opened delivery app on your phone, debating on whether or not you should disconnect his online payment from your account. i mean, it's not like you mean anything to him anymore, so it's wrong to use his money.

you sighed as you reconnected your own account, ordering your usual. that was the last connection you had to reo.

you knew rin didn't prioritize relationships. hell, it wasn't on his priority list at all. but you had a glimmer of hope inside that maybe, just maybe, he thinks about you in that way. that maybe because of you, he'll consider being in a relationship.

you knew you and rin were not just friends. friends don't do the things you two do. so when you two flirt, you feel giddy. you thought that rin meant something more with his flirtatious actions, but when he calls you 'just a friend', your stomach drops.

he shares with you that he enjoys flirting for fun, and meaning nothing of it. of course he doesn't talk about you directly, but that's what it feels like. rin says it as if he's sharing a fun fact about himself, even feeling proud of it.

he notices your expression and asks why you look like that. you say it's nothing. nothing, just like what you are to him.

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #chigiri x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader #rin x reader

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anonymouspuzzler · 4 months

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you know what? fuck you (heartbreak gulch's my own guys)

(@heartbreakgulch courtesy of the inimitable @strangegutz & collaborators, also miscellaneous Thoughts under the cut bc it's my blog no one can stop me the doors have closed behind you)

HEARTBREAKER BULKHEAD:

Probably does not have superpowers anymore but still came from a family of considerable influence and was under pressure to inherit, pressure which he very much Broke Under.

Turned to a life of crime, definitely got in over his head with it, and essentially got rescued by Eddie, who he is Utterly Obsessed With And Heartsick For.

Has spent literal years as one of Eddie's attack dogs and generally jumping through hoops for him for Whatever Scraps Of Affection He Can Get, though he's still kind of squeamish around Literal Murder and thus tends to be assigned to supply runs and such most of the time.

Amateur mechanic and car enthusiast. Probably did a lot of McGyver-ass fixes around the Gulch-slash-generally assisted Ami til Davey was recruited.

Speaking of, was still the guy who recruited-slash-rescued Davey. They fell for each other hard and are in a committed relationship now, which has helped Buck take a little bit of a healthier step back with whatever the hell he and Eddie have going on (and helped him be a little less jealous and curmudgeonly about the Hot Young Things In Town, ie Zeki and Felix).

Absolutely not prepared to be a guardian to Minnie which has led his and Eddie's whole Relationship to enter a fun new stage of "hey man can I ask you for parenting advice nothing weird"

HEARTBREAKER DYNAMO:

Pretty similar backstory to the Villain-Coded version. Civilian turned criminal, lost his arm when he got in over his head on a job and Buck rescued him.

Has a bunch of different prosthetics he swaps out for different purposes, ie. one for combat, one to use for mechanic work, a kinda general use/everyday one, etc. That said, he goes without a lot to make sure he's prepared for a situation where he doesn't have access/one breaks or fails on a job/etc.

An alarmingly good recruit; I feel like originally Eddie kind of let him stick around as a kind of "gift" to Buck, but now that he's actually got him on jobs he's become a real rising star. Real good in a scrap and is a little more flexible with his moral lines in the sand compared to Buck. Outside of that he works with Ami a lot doing mechanics and repairs - probably interested in learning CompanDroid maintenance/repair but figures it'd be skeevy for him to push that point too much.

He and Eddie have a complicated relationship I think. They'd be kinda suspicious/distrusting of each other but also have a LOT of similarities and work really well together. To say nothing of their respective relationships with Buck.

I don't think he's Trying to Uncle the younger recruits in the Gulch but he definitely Does. He likes White a lot. He and Ami would also definitely get along really well. He is being The Bigger Man and Mature Adult and not giving Felix a wedgie no matter how badly he wants to

HEARTBREAKER(?) MINNIE:

From the same family of prominence as Buck and is currently very much on the run after a failed attempt to kill her own dad.

Extremely a city kid and is Not necessarily adapting well to Middle Of Nowhere Self Sustained Living.

Knew Of Buck but never met him before this so his whole Life and Little Criminal Commune featuring Multiple Guys He's Got SOMETHING Going On With is. it's a lot

Would like to do some crime actually but is A) still a little traumatized and adjusting to the whole Situation and B) 13 Whole Real Human Years Old.

Fascinated by Zeki's whole deal and his work but I think they would absolutely bring out the worst in each other they would fight so much. Autism to autism hostility

Having a very complicated response to White and Ami wherein she thinks they're SO cool but interacting with them at any length would make her realize Things About Herself that she's not consciously ready to confront so just like. Imagine being White and looking over your shoulder and that 13 year old is just Intensely Staring At You Unblinking from around a corner and as soon as she realizes you've seen her she turns around and runs off as fast as she can directly into a wall

Zarita absolutely hitting that Cool Just Slightly Older Kid niche for her.

#anonymous puzzler art #anonymous puzzler originals #villain coded comic #heartbreak gulch #strangegutz #long post #it's fun to put your Guys in a New Situation! love that!!!#fun and interesting to think ok what about you is inherent no matter the setting and what changes when your situation is different #(the funny thing being I don't think a lot would fundamentally have to change about the HBG gang in villain-coded)#(like sure why not we can have compandroids. we can have the criminal haven in the desert. that all makes sense.)

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tennessoui · 11 months

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kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful. I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other. Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing.

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3 so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin.

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

#asks #obikin #obikin fic recs #me: im gonna focus and write my fic #also me: jk here is 4k of fic recs #i hope you enjoy!! i actually spent like 2 nights on this lol #combing through my history #tried to also spotlight some writers i like a lot but dont really see recc'ed #also psa if you have a tumblr pls link it to it on your ao3 #for kit #my notes are so silly i am sorry #i don't have kit's opinion corner often #so i shoved all my opinions into 4k of nonsense fic review #me: i hope peoplee like my fic list :)#also me: posts at the weirdest times where most people are not online :)

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mikobeautifulheart · 3 months

Note

hi!! 💗

i was wondering if you could do a yuji drabble wherein he walks into our dorm and we're just BAWLING and he goes to comfort us thinking it's serious and is like "it's okay.. you're bf is here.." bc he SUCKS as comforting people (LMFAOO) and then after a while when we calm down we tell him (still crying..?) that one of our favorite MALE (heskeske) characters died in an anime and he just gets all dramatic and jealous and then gets gojo-sensei in on the situation 🤭🤭 like a whole AITA 💀

this request is a bit short and not so explanatory, but idc how you write it since it's yuji and i'll read ANYTHING abt yuji. 💋

ASK AND YOU. SHALL. RECIVEEEEE. (Recive it unedited.)

Here we go.

Yuji who sucks at comforting you only to getting jealous over 'guy'

Yuji knocks on your door, he wanted to drop off some of the books he borrowed from you only to get no response. It was weird because he knew you were in your dorm...

"NOOOOOO" You yelled making Yuji panic

"Y/N ARE YOU OKAY?" He said as he burst open your door only to see you balled up on your bed crying into your pillow while muttering random sentences hysterically.

"He was-HIC- so-HIC-"

"Calm down Y/N are you okay?!" Yuji asked scanning your body for any inguries

"NOO IM NOT" you shouted throwing the pillow in your arms at the T.V infront of you before going back to crying.

"Shhhh calm down what if Nobora hears you?" he said with an awkward look on his face.

You stopped everything and stared at him.

"You monster-" you said before the tears rolled down your cheeks again.

"Do you not care?" you said through tears with your lip quivering.

"Okay, okay, i'm sorry but I can't help you if I don't know wats wrong." he said rubbing circles in your back in an attempt to soothe you.

It was no use because you really started to cry now.

"What's going on? I heard someone crying" Gojo asked sticking his head in the door way of your dorm.

"First he-he, and now Yuji, MY OWN BOYFRIEND DOSEN'T CARE ABOUT ME"

"I DO!" he retaliates

Gojo scans the room laying his eyes on your T.V seeing the end credits of Demon slayer playing. His face went white.

"No- Don't tell me-"

You nodded your head up and down aggressively while sniffing into a tissue

"RENGOKU-SAN" Gojo yelled grabbing the T.V by the screen watching the credits go by.

Yuji finally realized what this was all about.

"Are you kidding me?" He turned to you stiffly.

"Y/N...He's not real, your crying over someone who's not real-"

You and Gojo both froze

"Yuji, clearly you don't understand the gravity of the situation" Gojo starts.

"You see when someone with a pure heart and soul dies, no matter if they are real OR NOT, its a hard loss. Its like if they killed the earth worm man in the first Human worm movie."

Yuji turns his attention back to you

"You didn't even cry this much when I 'died'" Yuji mumbled

"THATS COMPLETLY DIFFERENT!" You said offended that he would even consider bring that up right now.

"YOUR RIGHT, HES NOT REAL AND YOUR CRYING OVER HIS DEATH WHILE I 'DIED' AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN CRY THIS MUCH."

Mean while Gojo laid on your floor muttering the lyrics to the end credit song while crying.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: some of this totally isn't based off a personal experience. Anyways I hope this is close to what you wanted anon. And thanks for your request. reblogs are welcomed btw.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #yuji fluff #yuji itadori #yuji × reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jjk #jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori x you #jjk x you #yuji itadori x reader #yuji imagines

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writeyouin · 1 year

Note

I had an idea for the new transformers movie, and like

Imagine being taken by Mirage with Noah, maybe they'd agreed to help him with the job, maybe they had experience, or some other reason, not the point

But as soon as they're both out the car, and Mirage is transformed, what do they do?

While Noah is waving around with a pipe, they're just staring at Mirage

When he finally turns his attention to them it's just

Mirage: Hey! Ya ain't screaming, ain't that nice? Hey man why can't you be more like them?

Y/N, in an obviously flirty tone: Hey~

Mirage: Oh! Oh it's like that ;) why hello you awfully adorable alien

Noah: What- what are you doing?

Y/N: Shut up I'm trying to get a man

Mirage X Reader – Flirtatious Meeting Part 1 of 2

A/N - I should technically be getting to other, older requests, but hey, when inspiration bites you in the ass, you don't question it. So, thanks for this great request, it was a lot of fun. I'm obsessed with Mirage now.

Warnings - None.

Rating - T

You gasped as you were thrown from the Porsche that you had accidentally stolen with Noah. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you had gotten into the situation with him, only that you were trying to stop him from making a stupid mistake, and instead you had gotten taken on a joy-ride by a self-driving car.

At this point you were pretty sure the vehicle belonged to some kind of insane billionaire who had driven it via remote control and that you and Noah were going to some secret, privately owned prison wherein the billionaire in question would have the last laugh.

“Oh my God,” You panted, rolling onto your side.

Behind you, you heard a whoop of delight, followed by a comment about how fun that joyride was. You pushed yourself up, ready to yell at whatever jerk had hijacked the car that you had admittedly been part of hijacking yourself.

“(Y/N),” Noah stuttered your name as he tapped your shoulder trying to get you to turn around.

From your peripheral you saw him bend down to pick up a busted pipe and you spun quickly to face your assailant, gasping again when you saw a giant robot.

You could have described him by his height, or his demeanour, or by the fact that you had no idea where he had come from, or who, if anyone had built him, but instead all you could think was that he was… kind of cute. No. That wasn’t it. He was straight up hot, and he seemed to have a sense of humour, which complimented his arrogant nature well.

“Noah,” You hissed. “Put down the pipe.”

“Yeah, Noah,” Mirage mocked, having revealed his own name in his self-serving speech. “Put down the pipe.”

When Noah refused, Mirage’s hand transformed into a cannon of some sort, pointing straight at Noah.

You didn’t dare speak in case things got any worse, but as it happened, Mirage was just toying with Noah, testing his bravery.

“Hmm, tough guy. I like that. I like it a lot.” Mirage mocked playfully, before turning his gaze on you. “And what about you? I mean, you ain’t screaming, that makes a nice change from the movies.”

Mirage looked back to Noah, “You see that man? Your friend ain’t taking a swing at me. You could learn a thing or two from them, so, what’s your deal cutie?”

You didn’t say much past a bright smile and a small flick of your fingers in a half wave, “Hey~”

“Oh! Oh, it’s like that, yeah,” Mirage winked at you. “Well, you ain’t so bad yourself, even if you are an alien.”

“Wait!” Noah demanded, holding out his hands to stop whatever weird flirtation was going on. “You’re an alien?”

“Well, I mean, to me, you’re the aliens,” Mirage countered.

“This is our planet. That makes you the alien.”

You slapped Noah’s arm, “Be nice.”

“Be nice? We just got kidnapped, and you want me to be nice?”

“Hey, we stole him, remember?”

“And he stole us right back! What are you doing anyway?”

You smiled awkwardly at Mirage, “Hey, can you give up a second, please?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Mirage nodded casually, then began whistling, looking away to pretend that he couldn’t hear you.

You grabbed Noah’s shirt and pulled him close to you, “Look man, I was just trying to stop you from making the worst mistake of your life tonight. The least you can do is let me have this, okay?”

“Let you have what?” Noah asked desperately.

“Hey, that alien up there is cute, funny, and I don’t have to ask if he has a vehicle, because he is one. Do you know how many men there are like that? None. So, you can freak out all you want, but I’m trying to score myself a date, okay?”

Noah didn’t get a chance to respond as Mirage interrupted your not-so-secret conversation, “Hey not to bother you but the big guy’s coming now, so you might wanna chill and you know, not threaten him with a pipe or he might squish ya.”

“I’m sorry, someone’s going to squish us?!” Noah demanded incredulously.

“You, maybe, your friend though, (Y/N) was it?”

You nodded, smiling brightly.

“Yeah, (Y/N) not-so-much. See, (Y/N) seems more chill than you Noah, oh and if all goes well, I know a little drive-in cinema we can visit.”

“We’re not going to a drive-in,” Noah deadpanned.

“Ew, no of course not bro. I meant me and (Y/N) there. You’re not gonna be third-wheeling.”

“Consider it a date,” You grinned.

Mirage nodded along happily, and then you, he and Noah were faced with the other Autobots currently residing on Earth.

#transformers #mirage #mirage x reader #noah diaz #transformers rise of the beasts #maccadam #tf #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #reader #mirage x you #flirtatious meeting

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daisyvisions · 6 months

Text

Between the Lines - (c.ch)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: roommate!Chanhee x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: In which Chanhee finds a book on your bed as he goes inside your bedroom. And what he finds inside the book sparks something deep within his soul that he HAS to confront you about it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.1K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), enemies to lovers (implied), mean!Chanhee (but secretly sweet), fingering, edging, hair pulling, marking, rough sex, unprotected sex (but he pulls out), calls reader princess a lot (but says slut once), brief aftercare, some manhandling if you squint. Mentions of making out and being watched. A very whiney Younghoon makes an appearance. Proofread twice. Let me know if I missed anything! Bolded lines were smut prompts used from this list.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: My late birthday gift to my lovely moot @ilovechanhee and a treat for all the Chanhee stans! Been so stuck in a rut but thank god I found the inspiration and motivation to write this out. Something different but was totally fun to write! (wow look at that, a fic that doesn’t involve creampies hahah)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network & Tag: @deoboyznet

You never should've said yes. Especially when Younghoon was on his knees begging for his life like he’d never done before.

“Please let him stay…” Younghoon looks up at you as he hugs your legs.

“And what makes you think I want him here?!” You try to push him away.

“Just give him a few months and he’ll be out of here in no time.”

“The answer is no-” You try to wiggle your way out of Younghoon’s embrace but his arms wrap around your legs tighter, nearly making you trip over him.

“He has nowhere else to go. Please he’s my friend!”

“And I’m also your friend! And I said no!”

“He’ll stay in my room the entire time and I'll tell him to be out of your way I swear! Please let him stay with us…” He pleads like his life depended on it.

You’ve never heard Younghoon sound like this, not even when he’s drunk out of his mind (which you’ve witnessed quite often). But when he’s looking up at you with those cute baby boy eyes, how could you say no?

And that’s how you ended up becoming roommates with the person you hate the most in this world… Choi Chanhee.

Contrary to what everyone believes, there was a time where you did like actually Chanhee. A time wherein you wanted become his friend. But it seemed like every time you tried to interact with Chanhee, he wanted nothing to do with you.

Always giving you the cold shoulder, rolling his eyes, making snarky remarks, and etc. That’s how the whole rift between you two started.

Every hangout you guys would have, you two would never stop bickering. It was annoying to everyone at first but eventually it became background noise. Just letting you two argue it out until you both started getting tired.

Arguments between you and Chanhee would get incredibly heated especially when he was invited to come over to the apartment that you shared with Younghoon.

He would just come barging in your room unannounced just to annoy the living shit out of you. Commenting about your boring life since you’re cooped up in your room all day or whatever pajamas you decided to wear that night were worn “just for him”.

Even when you’d walk into the kitchen to get some water you could feel his stare burning right through you as he slowly ate whatever snack he had in his hand. The way his smirk would make you feel something weird bubbling in your stomach. But you would push down that feeling deep within and continue to ignore him as he kept on staring.

“C’mon princess, don’t act like you hate having me here…” Chanhee would tease. And on cue, you’d roll your eyes at him and talk back before walking back to your room.

It was already bad enough that this was the usual routine you two had with one another while he was a guest in your home. But to have him as roommate for nine months? It was going to drive you to the point of insanity.

You should’ve never fell for Younghoon’s pleading eyes. Because now everything Chanhee did to annoy you was a hundred times worse than you could ever imagine.

Hogging the shower when he knew you’d be late for work. Waking you up way too early when he’d blast his music as he was cooking. Seeing him make out with some stranger on the couch as you got home, keeping his gaze on you as his neck was being kissed.

The list goes on.

You started hating him more and more as each day passed, wishing he would just leave you alone. However, a part of you secretly liked the way he would give you some sort of attention. Even if it was the kind of attention that made your head ache, it was still better than nothing right?

But you would rather drown in a lake than admit that to anyone… especially to him.

“Y/n! Your turn to use the washing machine! Hurry up already!” Chanhee calls for you from the living room. He lets out a big sigh before making his way into your room, wondering what the hell was taking you so long to respond to him.

As soon as he swings your door open, he doesn’t find you in your usual spot on the bed. He does notice however, the book you’ve been reading during the past few days lying open. He walks towards the book, grabbing it to see what had been so special about it.

You do nothing but stick your nose into the pages, so hyper focused on the story that you don’t even pay attention to him like you usually do (which would make him huff out of frustration.)

“Fucking nerd.” Chanhee mumbles to himself as he inspects the book cover before reading into the page you had stopped on.

As he carefully reads each sentence, his eyes grow wider and a smirk starts to form on his lips. His smile slowly becoming similar to that of the Grinch during Christmas.

“Oh she is so dead.”

You turn the shower knob off before stepping out, grabbing your towel to wipe off a few extra drops of water on your body and squeezing the water out of your hair before you wrap the towel around your body.

As you make your way back to your room, you yelp in surprise. Clutching onto your towel from unfastening as you see Chanhee sitting at the edge of your bed reading the book that you left behind.

Oh god… the book.

“I gotta say princess… you keep on finding ways to surprise me.” Chanhee smiles while his eyes stay glued on the page he’s reading.

You walk quickly towards the edge of your bed, one hand still clutching onto your towel as your free hand attempts to reach out for the book in Chanhee’s hands.

“Give that back!” You exclaim.

But Chanhee’s movements are much faster than yours. He holds the book far away from your reach, holding your waist with one hand while you inserted yourself between his legs and attempted to grab the book.

“Not so fast now, I was getting to the part where the knight takes the princess against the wall of a hallway.”

‘We can’t. Someone might see us.’ the princess gasps.

‘And what if I want them to see us?’ The knight inserts his thigh between her legs, pinning her wrists above her head as he leaves tender kisses on her neck.

‘Let them see how good I make you feel’ He whispers into her mouth.

Your cheeks turn bright red as Chanhee reads the excerpt from your book out loud.

“Chanhee, please!” You tip-toe to try and reach for the book.

“Fuck- Can’t believe this is the kind of stuff you read. Who would’ve known you’d be such a dirty little thing?” He looks up and smiles at you.

“Chanhee I swear to god if you don’t give me my book back and get out of this room I’ll-ah!”

You squeal as Chanhee pulls your wrist towards him, accidentally landing on his lap before he quickly flips you under his figure. He grips your wrists and pins them onto the mattress, the book way beyond your reach now.

“And you’ll do what? Hm? Gonna make me fuck you like the characters in your porno book?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Huh? No! That’s not what I-”

“Because that’s exactly what I want to do to you…” He looks at you dead in the eye. His eyes blown out and full of lust.

“What?” Your eyes widen. Did he really just say that to you?

“Not gonna lie princess, I’ve thought about this moment for so long.” Chanhee lowers his head, lightly brushing his lips against your cheek before whispering in your ear,

“You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.”

You feel your spine shiver with how his voice deepens one octave lower. Feeling your core slowly dampen as you clench your thighs together. And Chanhee notices your movements too.

He slightly pulls his head away, the tip of his nose lightly kissing yours. His breath fanning against your lips in the process.

“How about we make those scenes in your book come to life?”

“C’mon now, beg for it princess.” Chanhee taunts. He had been pumping his long fingers inside you for what felt like hours. His lips leaving marks all over your breasts as you sweetly moan for him.

Every time you’d get closer to the edge, he would immediately pulls his fingers out of your wet hole. Tears would form at the corners of your eyes every time he would deprive you of your sweet release.

“I-ah! I have been begging! Please Chanhee-” You whine out.

You feel your orgasm fast approaching as your walls tighten around his fingers once more.

“You want to cum?”

“Y-yes, I— please—”

“Hm, but do you really deserve to?”

“Please, I’ve been good. Really good! Please- wanna cum so bad!” You desperately beg.

“Yeah? Want your greedy cunt cumming all over my fingers?” Chanhee asks as he vigorously pumps his digits inside you. You nod your head rapidly in response, feeling your orgasm just teetering at the edge.

But before you’re about to let go, he pulls his fingers out of you.

“No! Wait-” You cry out.

“Shh…” Chanhee presses his wet finger against your lips. “Want you to cum around my cock instead.”

Before you can even respond he flips you onto your stomach, spreading your legs apart as he inserts himself between. He hastily pulls out his aching member from his boxers and aligns himself against your wet pussy before pushing his entire length inside you.

“Holy shit- you’re way tighter than I thought you’d be-” Chanhee groans as he pulls your hair and begins to rapidly pound himself into you.

You want to tell him to fuck you harder, but all the words die in your throat as you start to babble out incoherent sounds instead. You mind becoming foggy from all the edging earlier and the way his cock drags inside your velvety walls.

Chanhee pushes your face into the mattress, pressing his entire weight on top of you to lock you in place.

“Keep it down. You wouldn’t want our dear roommate finding out about what I’m doing to you right? Or are you such a slut you’d let him watch me fuck you til you can’t walk?”

You let out a whined moan, shaking your head instead of giving him a proper answer.

“Good. Now cum for me princess!”

And like clockwork you do. Gushing all over his member as you moan into your mattress, muffling the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth as much as possible. Chanhee follows after you, quickly pulling out and shooting his load all over your back as he deeply grunts.

You feel like you're floating on a cloud as the pleasure slowly subsides. Trying to catch your breath as you try to calm your senses from feeling too overwhelmed by everything that had happened tonight.

But you’re suddenly pulled out of your trance as soon as you feel sensitive from your core being wiped with a warm towel. Chanhee continues to wipe away his spend on your back and slowly flip you onto your back and wrap your towel around your body again.

“You okay?” Chanhee checks on you as he brushes the loose hair from your face.

“Yeah, I think so. T-thank you by the way…” You awkwardly reply.

Chanhee chuckles, amused by how cute you’ve become again even after he fucked your brains out just moments ago. You watch him as he adjust his clothes, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you see him making his way to the door.

“W-where are you going?” You innocently ask.

Chanhee turns around and smiles at the way you pout. He walks back to you and leans down to give you a soft kiss on your lips.

“Gotta continue with the chores princess. Some of us actually do our chores remember?” He smiles, playfully teasing you.

He walks back to the door, before he completely heads out of your room his head pops back in,

“And by the way, if you ever need to reenact more scenes… I’m just a few feet away.”

#deoboyznet #choi chanhee #chanhee #chanhee smut #tbz smut #tbz fics #tbz scenarios #tbz #tbz hard hours #the boyz drabbles #the boyz hard hours #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #kpop smut #the boyz fanfic

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

Visions

Larissa Weems x fem!reader

received a lovely request / idea from @veeisgayasf 💛 thank you, I hope you like it! summary: Larissa x femreader bump into each other at the weathervane and reader has a vision of a spicy night with larissa even though this is their first time meeting. And it just goes from there. warnings: nsfw (fingering, oral sex, praise kink, mommy kink, mild degradation?)

words: ~3.9k

tags for those who may be interested: @sapphicsbeloved @afeatherformills @zephyr-is-tired

ao3 link in title

“Vanilla latte, extra large, for Y/N?” The barista’s voice carried through Jericho’s only café, the Weathervane, and you slipped out of the booth from which you were waiting. You desperately needed the caffeine and sugar fix if you were going to make it through your job interview that afternoon.

Your visions had begun in your childhood: when you were 7, you passed out on the playground and had what could only be described as a prophetic dream, wherein you saw your younger sister fall off her bike and break her arm. Two days later it happened, just as it had in your “dream”. Your parents brushed it off as a weird coincidence but it kept happening, and soon they were unable to ignore it.

You had heard about Nevermore Academy, but your parents, desperate to give you a “normal” childhood (more like pretend their child was normal), hadn’t allowed you to attend, forcing you, instead, through years of public schooling with “normies”. The years of bullying (fainting during class didn’t exactly make you seem normal) had only strengthened your resolve, however, and you knew one day you would make it to Nevermore. If not as a student, then as a teacher, to inspire a new generation of outcasts and to, hopefully, spare some poor kid like you the pain of being misunderstood.

So there you were, in Jericho, reciting the most interesting points of your resumé in your head, with T-minus 1 hour to go before the job interview that you had been waiting for for as long as you could remember. With the to-go cup warming your hands, you spun on your heels and made your way to exit the Weathervane just as the door swung open.

Passing through the door was quite possibly the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. A statuesque blonde with red lips and striking blue eyes, her platinum locks tied back in a professional updo. Everything about the woman exuded confidence, from the way she held her chin to the slight sway in her hips.

Focus, you thought. Now is not the time to get distracted.

She held the door for you and you smiled gratefully, receiving a warm smile in return, a smile that made your insides feel warm and fuzzy in ways you couldn’t explain. Your arm brushed against hers as you passed by her, and suddenly it happened again, without warning as it unfortunately always did. Your head snapped back at the neck.

Loud, unadulterated, sinful moans filled your ears. You were sitting naked on a desk in what appeared to be an office, legs spread open wide. You could feel your own slick coating your thighs, your breathing was shallow and labored. There was someone else there, a presence behind you, you could smell their flowery perfume, feel their breath on your neck. A clicking of heels told you the woman was rounding the desk now, coming into view. Her platinum updo was coming undone, red lipstick smeared. Perfectly manicured hands came to a rest on your thighs as her sapphire gaze pierced yours.

You came back to your senses and realized, with a fluttering in the pit of your stomach, that the woman in your vision was the very same woman staring back at you now, giving you a strange look, confusion mixed with curiosity, little creases forming between her perfectly plucked brows. You became acutely aware of the fact that your face had turned a lovely shade of red, to rival that of the woman’s lipstick.

“Are you alright?” she asked, voice careful and guarded, eyes narrowing.

You couldn’t help but to stare at her, dumbfounded. Your mouth hung open slightly and you snapped it shut, clearing your throat and shifting your gaze to the frame of the door, behind the woman’s shoulder, so as to avoid any further eye contact. “I’m fine,” you squeaked out. “I need to go, I’m sorry.”

You left the woman behind as you scurried out to your car, not daring to look back.

Maybe now you wouldn’t need the caffeine after all.

----

The woman from your vision consumed your thoughts throughout the entire drive to Nevermore Academy. Who was she? Why were you having sex with her in an office? And, perhaps most importantly, when would you see her again?

You parked your car and took a deep, shaky breath. Your visions could be so inconvenient sometimes. Now was not the time to be thinking about sex with some random woman - not when the most important job interview of your life was hanging in the balance. With one last look into your rear-view mirror to check your hair, you stepped out of your car and made your way up to the imposing school, following the instructions you had received via e-mail from the principal, Larissa Weems, to find her office.

Stopping in front of a pair of dark, wood-paneled double doors, you noticed that one of the doors stood slightly ajar, and you peeked your head in, knocking lightly as you did so.

“Come in,” you heard a smooth female voice call out.

You stepped into the room, looking around nervously. The room was filled with bookcases and trinkets. There was a magnificent fireplace off to the side, a fire roaring gently within.

Straight ahead stood a sturdy oak desk, the leather armchair turned around to face the massive windows just behind it.

Why did this office look so familiar? You racked your brain - there hadn’t been any pictures of the principal’s office on the school’s website, you knew this, you had studied the website long enough after all.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the swooshing sound of the chair swiveling around, revealing whom you assumed to be Principal Weems - and none other than the beautiful woman from the coffee shop from earlier.

You were stunned, rooted to the spot. You felt your stomach drop and a blush creep up your cheeks, your face slowly but surely turning crimson. If there were ever a moment you had wished the ground would swallow you up, surely it would be now.

“You must be Y/N. I’m Principal Weems, but please call me Larissa. We spoke over the phone last week, I must say I was very impressed with your resumé.” Larissa rose from her chair and rounded her desk, heels clicking, hand outstretched. She dropped her arm as she noticed you hadn’t moved an inch.

“You’re… I saw you at the Weathervane an hour ago, didn’t I? Are you alright? Would you like to sit down?”

Great. Just great. Not even a minute into the interview and your boss already thinks you’re a nutcase. Get it together.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment. When you opened them, you saw genuine concern in Larissa’s eyes as she gestured towards one of the armchairs in front of her desk.

“I’m alright. I’m so sorry, I’m afraid I’ve made a terrible first impression, Larissa. I, um, had a vision back at the Weathervane, and I’m still a bit rattled from it.”

“I understand,” Larissa said, and you could tell by the look in her eyes that she truly meant it. It nearly brought tears to your eyes - you had never felt understood before, only judged, and your heart ached, yearning for a place among the outcasts, yearning to be able to call Nevermore a home.

The interview went smoothly from then on. You shared stories on your childhood and background, went into your educational history, made sure your passion for the job came across in everything you said. Larissa displayed herself to be an exceptionally empathetic interview partner and seemed very impressed with your previous background in teaching. She promised to get back to you soon about the teaching position and by the time you had gotten back to your car, you had nearly forgotten about your earlier vision.

----

Three days went by before you received the call that would change your life. The teaching position was yours - no other applicant had impressed Larissa as you had, and she was looking forward to having you on her staff. You were to start the following Monday, a week before the beginning of the semester, giving you time to prepare your lesson plans and meet your new colleagues. You hung up the call buzzing with excitement, though there was a strange nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at your insides. You were both excited and nervous to see Larissa again, and now that she was going to be your new boss, you had no idea what to expect, or how your vision was going to play into your new role at Nevermore Academy.

----

Your first week at Nevermore flew by as you busied yourself with writing lesson plans, attending staff meetings, and getting to know your new colleagues.

It was a balmy Sunday evening, the evening before students were to arrive. Most teachers had already turned in a copy of their lesson plans for the semester, but you had waited until the last minute, wanting everything to be absolutely perfect. Which had led you to being in Larissa’s office this evening as she asked how you were getting along and assured you that the students would adore you.

The office was growing dark as the sun had long set on the horizon, save for the warm glow of the fire and the faint trace of moonlight. Larissa looked so beautiful, you mused, hair shining silver in the light of the moon. Her features looked softer in this light. She looked less like Principal Weems, head bitch in charge, and more like Larissa - sweet, gentle, caring. Her bright red lips curved upwards in a smile as she spoke with you, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip, and your thoughts went back to the vision you’d had.

You felt a familiar burning sensation in your cheeks, a hot spring coiling up in your abdomen. If you didn’t leave soon, you knew you would spontaneously combust.

“I should go, it’s getting late and I should probably be well-rested to meet the kids tomorrow. Thanks for checking in on me Larissa, I do appreciate it.”

The warm smile you received in return made you dizzy.

“Of course, Y/N. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me.” She winked and rose from her armchair to see you out of her office.

As your hand made contact with the cool brass of the doorknob, your head snapped back and another vision came to you.

“Please,” you moaned. Larissa’s gaze never left yours as she lowered her head until it was level with your sex. You were dripping onto her desk, aching with desire. The scent of your arousal hung in the air, mixing deliciously with her perfume. She ran her tongue along your cunt, from your entrance to your throbbing clit, and you felt a pitiful whimper escape you.

You came back to your senses, breathing just as ragged as it was in your vision, head swimming.

“Y/N? Did you have another vision?”

You turned back to see a look of concern etched upon Larissa’s face. You could only stare at her in shock, a heat coiling in your stomach, a wetness pooling between your thighs.

“Larissa…”

The office was quiet, save for the crackling of the fire, but your ears were ringing. Your gaze fell to her lips - warm, soft, enticing… You took a step forward, until you were in Larissa’s space, her perfume invading your senses, her breath ghosting your face.

“Y/N?” Larissa whispered it, so quietly you wouldn’t have noticed she’d spoken if your eyes hadn’t been glued to her face.

Your lips were inches away from hers, your breaths mingling… it was Larissa who closed the gap. Her lips pressed into yours, gently at first then with more and more urgency.

When she pulled away, she took your shoulders in her hands and searched your face.

“Is this what your vision was about?” She was breathless, face unreadable.

You hesitated. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” Larissa quirked her eyebrow.

You flushed as you considered how you would recount your vision to your boss.

“Well that wasn’t all my vision was about,” you conceded.

“What else happened in your vision?”

“Well… I was, um, on your desk…”

“Is that so?” Larissa took a step towards you, placing a hand on the oak next to your head and trapping you between her and the door.

You nodded pathetically. “And where was I?”

“B-between my legs,” your throat felt tight, you clenched your thighs together - your underwear drenched. The action was not lost on Larissa, whose pupils dilated, lips curling up into a devilish smirk.

“I have wanted you since I first laid eyes on you, darling,” she growled. Her body came flush against yours, pressing your back into the door. Your head was spinning, you had never craved someone’s touch like this before - the tension in the air was driving you wild.

“Then why don’t you take me?” Larissa moaned at your words and caught your lips in hers, hands flying to your hips and lifting you against the door. You wrapped your legs around her waist, teeth clashing, moaning desperately into each other's mouths. Your fingers curled up in Larissa’s hair, tugging gently and eliciting a delicious whine from her throat.

Stumbling, she brought you over to her desk and sat you on the edge, her lips never breaking contact with yours as her tongue explored the planes of your mouth. You were the first to pull away, panting, your hands coming up to your own blouse to undo the buttons.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, fingers shaking too much to get the buttons undone. Larissa let out a low chuckle and swatted your hands away, taking over, pushing the blouse down your shoulders before moving to tear your skirt down your legs. You shifted your hips up to assist Larissa in her endeavor and your skirt hit the ground in a heap.

“Oh my darling, you’re absolutely desperate for me,” Larissa growled, noticing the stain on your panties. You whimpered, bucking your hips forward into the air.

“Larissa… you have no idea what you do to me.”

She slipped a hand under your panties, running two fingers along your slit and groaning as you moaned and threw back your head. She brought her fingers to her lips and ran her tongue along them, swirling her tongue around. She sucked the digits into her mouth, releasing them with a little pop that caused a fresh wave of desire to leak out of your core.

“I wonder, sweetheart, is this what you’ve been picturing since we first met? Have you thought about this during meetings? When we’ve passed each other in the halls?” Larissa was taunting you now, her fingers hooked around your panties. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, feeling the electricity of her fingers on the skin of your hips.

“Aren’t you a little slut?” You groaned, pressing your thighs together, the tension becoming unbearable. She was getting off on this, making you squirm under her gaze.

“... Rissa… please…”

“Please, what? Use your words, darling.”

“Please… fuck me,” your hips bucked at the air again, hands gripping the edge of the desk.

Those were apparently the words Larissa had been waiting for, for in a heartbeat she was pulling your panties down your legs. She rounded the desk to come up behind you, unclasping your bra. It was the moment you had been replaying in your mind for over a week now.

Larissa’s hands came to rest on your breasts from behind, massaging them, fingers teasing the peaks of your nipples, her lips latching onto your neck, claiming you as her own. She moaned into your ear, lust dripping from every sound she made, trying to spur you on with her voice, as if she were performing for you.

In lieu of panties, your own slick was now pooling onto the desk below you, your legs spread wide open and waiting in anticipation for what was to come.

Larissa’s perfume, a divine blend of floral and musk, filled your nostrils as she came closer to let out a loud groan into your ear, her breath husking over your neck, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

A clicking of her heels told you she was coming back to the front of her desk. Larissa was a sight to behold. Though, rather unfortunately, still fully clothed, her platinum updo was coming undone, curls spilling onto her shoulders. Her lipstick was smeared, lips swollen, her chest heaving. Perfectly manicured hands came to a rest on your thighs as her sapphire gaze pierced yours.

“What do you say?” Larissa commanded, nails digging into your skin to leave little red crescents.

“Good girl,” she purred into your cunt, and you felt yourself shudder at the praise, a fresh wave of arousal dripping onto Larissa’s chin.

“Oh, my darling, you like it when mommy tells you how good you’ve been for her?” Larissa’s eyes met yours and you thought you might faint then and there, this was simply too good to be true.

“Y-yes, mommy,” you stuttered, grinding your hips into her mouth and gasping at the feeling of her wet tongue receiving your juices.

Flattening her tongue, she began to circle your clit in a steady rhythm as you bucked your hips up to meet her face, searching for friction, already so close from her teasing. Your hands found purchase in her curls, tightening your grip as you ground your clit into Larissa’s tongue, fingers tightening around her hair and undoing the rest of her elegant updo as you reached your climax. Your legs trembled, thighs snapping shut around Larissa’s ears. Her hands wound their way around your thighs, holding you firmly in place as you rode out your orgasm on her face.

Once your legs had stopped shaking and your thighs had loosened their hold on her head, Larissa looked up to you once more, making sure you held her eye contact as she wiped your juices from her chin. She placed tender kisses on your inner thighs, leaving faint lipstick marks.

She moved up your body, her hand landing firmly on your chest, and pressed a heated kiss to your lips, tongue begging for entry.

“Taste yourself, darling. You taste divine,” she moaned into your mouth, her tongue swirling around yours. Her breathy moans in your mouth had you ready again in mere seconds and you thought it very unfair that she was still fully clothed.

Still trapped in a passionate kiss, you reached out a needy hand and started to pull at the zipper on the side of Larissa’s dress. She pulled away from the kiss with an amused smirk gracing her swollen lips, straightening to her full height and looking down at you through hooded eyes.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

The amusement in her eyes gave you a shot of confidence. “I just thought it was unfair that I don’t get to see that killer body of yours.”

Larissa could barely conceal the blush creeping up her cheeks. “And what would you do with this ‘killer body’ of mine?”

“Worship it.”

All the air was briefly sucked out of the room. Your words went straight to Larissa’s core, a growl escaping her lips, hips twitching as she lunged forward to press needy kisses to your neck, nipping at the skin, marking it in hues of red and purple.

Your hands moved back to the zipper of Larissa’s dress and this time, she didn’t stop you, allowing you to pull the dress down her shoulders, slowly exposing her skin, bit by bit. Your hands gripped her hips pulling her towards you as you placed open-mouthed kisses to every bit of skin you could reach, sucking and biting, marking her as she had marked you. Her moans only spurred you on and you unclasped her bra, allowing it to fall to the floor and taking her breast in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the hardened peak and eliciting a delightful whine from the woman before you.

“Come,” Larissa commanded, gripping your shoulders and pulling you off the desk, guiding you to follow her as she fell back into one of the plush armchairs across from her desk, spreading her legs for you. Heat pooled in your stomach as your eyes fell to the dark spot in the middle of her panties. You pulled them down her legs, achingly slowly, your fingers brushing her long, toned calves on the way down, feeling her shiver underneath you.

“Be a good girl for mommy,” Larissa moaned, bringing her own fingers to her cunt and rubbing circles around her clit.

Your eyes widened, pupils dilating as you replaced her fingers with your own and brought one finger to her throbbing sex, dragging it slowly along her slit. You relished the whimpers that came from Larissa’s throat as you dragged two fingers from her entrance to her clit, gently rubbing the sensitive nub.

You plunged your fingers inside of her, beginning a rhythmic thrusting. Her juices dripped down your hand, staining the armchair underneath her. You curled your fingers inside of her and her hips bucked up erratically. She gripped the armrests of the chair, knuckles turning white, head thrown back in ecstasy. You latched your lips onto her clit, sucking gently, swirling your tongue faster and faster as Larissa’s hips increased their pace to match yours, each swirl of your tongue and curl of your fingers met with a sinful gasp of pleasure.

“Y/N… I’m s-so close…” she gasped. You acted quickly, adding a third finger, filling her completely. Larissa’s thighs began to quiver as she reached her climax. You wished you could burn this moment into your mind for eternity - her mouth hung open, breathy moans spilling out past her lips, chest heaving and flushed, eyes squeezed shut. Slowly licking her slit, you cleaned her up, savoring the taste of Larissa’s arousal - all for you.

“Sorry about the chair,” your eyes fell to the stain Larissa’s cum had caused in the smooth velvet of the seat.

Larissa’s eyes followed yours. She looked up at you for a moment, face unreadable. Then her head fell back and a genuine laugh bubbled forth from her chest.

“Yes, well, I suppose I’ll have to have that reupholstered before anyone notices.” Her frame shook with mirth as she leaned in to press her lips to yours in a sweet, gentle kiss.

“So… have you had any other visions?” Larissa smirked.

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader

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