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munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Note

hii 🫶🏻 i've had this idea of the reader and eddie being at a halloween party and her drink getting spiked (roofied or wtv) and like eddie comes to the rescue and takes care of her - enemies to slight lovers pls!! have a good day/night :))

Hi! I changed it a bit so that her drink was spiked with extra booze, but I kept it enemies-to-lovers!

Warnings: underage drinking (everyone is over 18 but under 21), reader's drink gets spiked, drunkenness, brief mention of Eddie dealing, Billy Hargrove needs his own warning tbh, enemies-to-lovers, idiots in love

WC: 2.5k

Thank you so much to @corroded-hellfire @lofaewrites and @manda-panda-monium for their help! Y'all made this fic much stronger, and I am indebted to you.

A brief, incomplete list of activities you enjoy: grabbing coffee with a few friends, walks down by Lover’s Lake powered by whatever cassette you’ve jammed into your WalkMan, reading a good book and curling up in the sunlight streaming through your bedroom window.

A brief, incomplete list of activities you despise: Steve Harrington’s house parties.

The bass from the stereo has the entire downstairs shaking, and you wince as you pass by it and make your way to Nancy. She’s the reason why you’ve started coming to these stupid things, and although Steve isn’t as big of a tool as you’d previously thought, it doesn’t make other people more tolerable.

“You having a good time?” Nancy asks now, bouncing along with the music. Her eyes are hazy with booze; her half-filled cup of the jungle juice concoction is clearly far from her first of the evening.

You shrug, hitching your bag close to your shoulder as a beast of a man in a letterman jacket pushes his way through the crowd. “Not really.”

“Cool, awesome!” Nancy chirps, senses compromised by the constant flow of alcohol and the blasting music.

Steve has his arm around her waist, pressing chaste kisses to her neck. He looks up at you for just a second and frowns. “Where’s your drink?”

You jingle the car keys you’ve had clenched in your fist the whole night, ready to make a getaway as early as you can. “Designated driver. Unless you want José Cuervo behind the wheel tonight,” you raise your brows as you motion to your friend.

Steve shakes his head. “Nance is gonna stay here with me tonight,” he tells you, taking Nancy’s cup from her hand and placing it in yours. “She’s had enough, anyway. So, uh, go crazy.”

Go crazy. It’s tempting to dull the roar of the dozen or so conversations worming their way into your consciousness. And no doubt it’ll be easier to slap a fake smile on your face and even join one of them. But you still have to get home somehow, and the thought of asking either of your overbearing parents for a ride home from a party has your stomach in knots, especially considering you’d told them you were going to the library and sleeping at the Wheeler’s.

Instead of going crazy, you toss the couple a frustrated eye roll, but they’re both too enmeshed in their puppy love for each other to catch it. Home. You just need to get home, snug in your own bed, away from–

“Hey, Goody Two-Shoes!” Billy Hargrove flings his muscular arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him despite your clear lack of interest. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s bad etiquette to bring down the party vibe?”

“Get offa me,” you grumble, but his strength easily overpowers yours.

“What you need,” he continues, stifling a beer-scented belch, “is to fuckin’ loosen up.” He punctuates his statement by placing one beefy hand on each of your shoulders, shaking you back and forth. He stumbles a bit in his drunken state, and you seize the opportunity to step away from him.

The entire encounter makes the drink in your hand even more tempting, and you throw it back without another thought. Your throat burns with the sting of alcohol, and you wince reflexively. Jeez, if this is what Nancy’s been drinking all night, no wonder she’s wasted, you think, grateful that you only had half of the cup.

Eddie Munson arrives when the party is in full swing, lunch box of illicit substances gripped tight in his hands. He hates spending time with these jockstraps outside of school, but parties are a great way to make some extra cash, and rich douchebags like King Steve practically throw the money at him, too drunk and lazy to actually count it out.

He sees you out of the corner of his eye, swaying to the music alongside Billy Hargrove. You’re leaning into him, with his hand around your waist pulling you into him. You laugh loudly, though it doesn’t appear that Billy’s said anything.

What a weird pair, Eddie muses, comparing your usual type-A, pain-in-the-ass, teacher’s pet personality with Billy’s thoughtlessness and indifference. He watches as Billy nonchalantly refills your drink and grabs your backside.

When Billy notices Eddie, he props you against the counter and murmurs something before staggering over to buy something. “What do you have tonight, Munson?”

“The usual,” Eddie replies casually, placing the tin box on the kitchen table and flipping it open. “So, uh, looks like Goody-Two Shoes is having a good time.”

Billy chuckles, twirling a toothpick across his lips. It’s a menacing laugh, and Eddie doesn’t care for the sound of it. “Yeah, she needed a little help, but I took care of it.”

He really doesn’t like that. “What do you mean?”

“Slipped a little extra in her drink when she wasn’t looking,” Billy whispers, flashing Eddie a now-empty mini bottle of tequila. “Shit was pretty strong to begin with, but she’s definitely feeling it now.”

“You spiked her drink?” Eddie’s mouth goes dry, and he snaps the lunch box shut. When Billy just laughs again, Eddie shoves him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Billy holds his hands up in defense. “Hey, man, you can’t blame a guy for doing what he has to do to get laid. Especially when it’s someone as uptight as her.”

Rage pounds in Eddie’s ears, and he barely hears anything after that. He marches towards you, fists clenched. You weren’t his favorite person, and he wasn’t yours–not after what happened in health last year–but he’d be damned if he let you get taken advantage of.

“Hey,” he says softly, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention. “Let me get you home.”

You sloppily shake your head, jungle juice sloshing over the side of the cup. “‘M fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He’s insistent, tone much harsher than his usual carelessness. “You’re absolutely plastered, and I’m taking you home.” He extends his hand, and you reluctantly take it, letting him lead you to his van. Your feet are bricks beneath you, and you giggle involuntarily as you trip over them.

“Munson, what the fuck?” Billy calls out, charging over. His own stride isn’t much more graceful than yours; the Keg Stand Champion having reclaimed his title earlier in the evening. “Get your own girl.” He reaches for your bicep to tug you away, but Eddie’s faster, which only makes the jock’s eyes stonier. “Fucking freak!” he calls out, quickly downing another plastic cup of beer.

Your eyelids begin to close, and slurred words leave your lips. “Whas’ goin’ on? Why’s Billy shhh-so mad?”

Eddie ignores your question, not wanting to slow down and risk Billy catching up to you. Once he’s safely got you in the passenger seat, he starts the ignition and glances at where you’re leaning against the window. “Where to?”

“Home.”

“Right, and, uh…where might that be?”

You shrug, body heavier with sleep by the second. “Dunno.”

“Like an address, or a general direction…anything?” Eddie drums his ringed fingers against the steering wheel. He sighs and throws the van in reverse when you shake your head. “All right, looks like you’re staying at mine.”

He keeps his eyes on the road, stealing a peek at you every minute or so. You’re sleeping, soft snores punctuating the otherwise silent ride. He winces as he goes over a bump and puts his arm out to prevent you from falling against the dashboard.

Twenty minutes later—it would have been fifteen, but he drove slowly to prevent jostling you too much—he’s pulling up to his trailer. “Welcome to Casa Munson.” He opens his door with a dramatic grunt and shuffles around to your side. “C’mon, let’s get you inside.” If any of the neighbors see him, they’ll assume the worst, but it’s either that or have you sleep in the van.

The last thing you remember is mumbling about needing a bed and Eddie leading you to his with an offhand comment about not knowing where the stains are from. When you wake the next morning, a jackhammer has replaced your brain and your throat is filled with bile.

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, pulling your sheet up over your eyes to shield them from the sun. Except this isn’t the baby pink set your mom bought you from Wal-Mart. These sheets are white and smell like cigarettes, weed, and drugstore cologne. The realization that this isn’t your room has you jolting up in bed despite your body’s protests. “What the hell?”

“Good morning to you, too,” a voice grumbles from below. You look down to see Eddie Munson laying on the floor, a towel rolled below his head in a makeshift pillow. A throw blanket covers from his shoulders to just above his ankles, leaving his sweat sock-clad feet exposed. “There’s some water and pretzels next to you, and I can grab Advil if you need.”

You nod, squeezing your eyelids together at the pain the slight head movement causes. “Yes, please.” He returns with the medicine, and you eagerly swallow it with a gulp of water. A quick assessment assures you that your clothes are still on, but you still have to ask, “did we…”

“Nope. No way. Not even a little.” He takes a seat next to you, offering the pretzel canister. Though your stomach is churning, you need something to absorb the medicine, so you take a handful and carefully munch on them. “But you had quite the offer last night.”

“Wha—?”

“Hargrove spiked your drink to get you in bed,” he explains. His mop of curls is disheveled from tossing and turning, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “And, uh, not to sleep.”

“Yeah, I gathered that,” you mutter. A fresh wave of nausea washes over you, and it’s not from the hangover. Your memories are muddled, but you can vaguely piece the night together: Nancy and Steve, the unfinished drink, Billy’s arm around you… “We left before he could do anything, right?”

Eddie nods, stealing the plastic water bottle from your grasp and taking a swig. He swishes it around his mouth before answering. “Got you outta there before he could even cop a feel.”

You grimace at his brazen response. “Well, um, thanks. You didn’t have to do that.” You start to stand up, fumbling for your keys in your bag when you remember. “Fuck, my car’s still at Steve’s.”

“I can take you,” Eddie offers, grabbing the jeans he’d haphazardly flung over his desk chair.

“Nah, s’okay. I can walk.”

“Seriously?” He throws his hands in the air, utterly exasperated with you. “You’d rather walk three miles back to Harrington’s—hungover as shit…looking like that,” he gestures vaguely at your smeared makeup and bloodshot eyes, “than take a ride from me?”

You remain quiet, so he proceeds with his rant.

“Y’know, when you ditched me last year, I figured you weren’t, like, into me or whatever. But, Christ, what did I do to make you hate my guts?”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “I ditched you?” The thunderous headache makes it difficult to wrack your brain for the memory, but you definitely would recall ditching Eddie Munson. “I never did that.”

“Last April,” he begins, tone clipped and direct, “the night we were supposed to finish our health project—”

“You ditched me.”

He shakes his head. “Uh, no. I invited you to see my band play and then we would finish the project after—which you agreed to—and then you never showed.”

“No, you told me, and I quote, ‘Corroded Coffin has a gig at The Hideout at 8, and we can put the poster together after we play.”

“Exactly!”

“Exactly what?” It hurts to roll your eyes, but you do it anyway just to emphasize the absurdity of the situation. “That wasn’t an invitation; that was just you telling me what time the show starts.”

“What time it starts,” he says slowly, as though explaining it to a child. “If I just wanted to meet up for the project, I would’ve told you what time it ends.” His eyes narrow. “Do you really think I spent all that time doing research with you just to flake when we got to do the creative part?”

The missing pieces shift into the puzzle. You’d been thrown off when Eddie had failed to show that night; you’d genuinely thought the two of you had forged some kind of friendship during your evenings at the Hawkins Library. But when midnight had rolled around, you’d given up altogether, gathered your notes, and made the poster alone.

“I…I didn’t know…” you muse, mouth drier than it was before you’d drank water. “I thought you forgot, or didn’t care…” You press a tooth into your bottom lip and gnaw at the chapped skin. “Trust me, I never would’ve ditched the guy I—”

You’d tried to cut yourself off before Eddie catches what you’d inadvertently implied, but it’s too late. “The guy you…” he gently goads. When you don’t answer, he sits on the bed next to you and knocks his knee against yours. “Would it help if I told you that you’re the girl I…” He tilts his head and peers at you through his deep brown eyes.

“Me?!” There’s no way he’s serious; you brace yourself for the ‘gotcha’ or some other punchline he’ll inevitably toss your way.

To your surprise, there is none. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a total sucker for a goody-two shoes.” He stands up again, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing back and forth in the tiny room. “So, since I’m the guy that you…and you’re the girl that I…can I interest you in some of the finest hangover food this town has to offer?”

“Can I brush my teeth first?” You grimace at the tang of last night’s tequila that sticks to your molars. “Unless you also happen to be into girls with wicked morning breath.”

He chuckles, a true and hearty laugh, and it’s one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. “Spare toothbrush is in the top drawer,” he says, pointing towards the bathroom.

Once minty freshness has replaced stale booze, you wash the remnants of your makeup off of your face. You look a bit better; tired and hungover, but better.

Eddie’s dressed in ripped jeans and a faded concert tee, keys clenched in his palm. “Ready?” he asks, leaning against the bedroom doorway.

“Mhm.” You feel his hand ghost the small of your back as he leads you towards the front door, sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

“Hey, by the way?”

When you turn around, his lips are on yours. It’s soft and sweet, just a bit more than a peck, but you can tell it took every ounce of courage for him to do it. You both take a small step back, swapping shy grins.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

You take his empty hand and lace your fingers with his. “Does Corroded Coffin still play at the Hideout?”

“Every Tuesday at 8.”

“I’ll be there.”

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

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nanivinsmoke · 2 months ago

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PYSKINKTOBER

welcome to PYSKINKTOBER! im you’re host, nani, and we got a few games to play! before we start, you might be wondering what is PSYKINKTOBER, well it’s a new thing im starting—it’s still kinktober but I wanted to add some psychotic oneshots to the mix.

all PYSKINKTOBER one shots will be tagged with trigger warnings when needed to. some of these might not get done, but ill let you guys know!

in the meantime, who’s ready to to play?

PRESS PLAY

◃◁ ► ▷▹

PAPARAZZI . ❥ mma!fighter toji x fem!reader — ROUND ONE + tw: stalking

summary ❥ the story of how the paparazzi changed the life of the strongest mma fighter. heavily inspired by lady gaga’s song ‘ NSFW CONT ‘

DADDY’S DEALINGS ❥ patch!wolverine x fem!reader — ROUND TWO summary ❥ dont fuck with him while he’s working. you knew that, but what happens when you try to fuck on him during work? ' NSFW CONT '

KNOCK THAT KITTY CAT OUT! ❥ old!manlogan x f!reader — ROUND THREE summary ❥ everything and everyone seems to stress the old man out, what happens when he takes it all out on you? title inspired by sir mix a lot ' NSFW CONT '

S(C)ARRIE STORIES ❥ supernatural x fem!reader — ROUND FOUR summary ❥ whatever you do, don’t let the winchester brothers convince you to watch scary movies with you—especially while you’re high.

AND I CAME! ❥ dbf!toji x fem!reader — ROUND FIVE

summary ❥ handing out candy to trick-o-treaters with him should be easy, right? inspired by love game by lady gaga ' NSFW CONT '

HURTS SO GOOD ❥ laststand!logan x fem!reader — BONUS ROUND ONE summary ❥ you find out logan has a pain kink. ' NSFW CONT '

NIGHTMARE ON KINK STREET ❥ tf!sukuna x fem!reader — BONUS ROUND TWO summary ❥ scary movies before bed? seems like you’re just asking for a scare. ' NSFW CONT '

#PYSKINKTOBER #logan howlett #true form sukuna #mma fighter toji #toji fushiguro smut #sukuna ryomen smut #old man logan smut #nanivinsmoke #jjk smut #logan #logan howlett smut #jujutsu kaisen

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daisyblog · 3 months ago

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Small Bump

Young Love Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN share the news that they’re having another baby with the boys.

Based on this request.

The boys first show back after their little break in between tour legs was in Cardiff, and Louis and YN were trying to keep their baby news to themselves for a little longer until they had their scan and knew everything was okay.

But unlike her first pregnancy with Mia, YN was feeling the symptoms. Every morning she would wake and have to run to the bathroom, hoping she would make it to the toilet in time, thanks to the morning sickness. But the name made no sense because it didn’t just happen in the morning, certain smells would cause her to heave and the night time was just as bad.

Before Louis had to head off to soundcheck, ahead of their first Cardiff show, he was sat rubbing YN’s back and moving her hair out of the way as she was being sick.

“I’m sorry you’re going through this”. Louis sympathised as his hand continued to rub circles on her back.

YN took a sip from her water bottle, trying to get the taste from her mouth. “S’not your fault…just part of being pregnant”.

Louis noticed YN’s tired eyes, the darkness that sat under them were screaming for sleep. “I’m gonna take Mia with me to soundcheck…you go rest and have some sleep before tonight”. YN went to argue but Louis stopped her. “No ifs or buts…Lottie can watch Mia whilst we’re rehearsing.”

YN didn’t put up the fight and decided to listen and get some rest. While YN got into bed and peacefully fell asleep, Louis took Mia with him to the stadium.

It was very rare not to see YN and Mia tottering behind Louis at the venues, but Liam was quick to notice that YN was missing.

“Where’s YN?”. His eyebrows frowned. His question causing Niall and Harry to look around too.

“She’s didn’t sleep very well…so she’s still at the hotel”. Louis tried to keep his answer short and sweet, afraid their secret may slip from his lips.

Mia came running down the corridor with Lottie right behind her. “Uncle ‘arry!”. She ran straight into Harry’s open arms. “Auntie Lottie did me ‘air…look”. The younger child showed off her French plaits that were nearly done.

“Wow! You look so cool!”. Harry made a fuss that only made Mia coy with shyness.

Niall gave her tummy a little tickle, as she sat tall in Harry’s arms. “Just like a princess!”.

“Can I have matching plaits?”. Liam teased as he ran his hand over his short hair.

“Don’t be silly…your ‘air is too small”. Mia giggled into her hands.

---

As the weeks went on, so YN’s hormones were rising, and didn’t Louis know it. If she wasn’t crying, she was angry and if she wasn’t sad, she was like a woman on a mission. Louis liked to guess which personality he was going to wake up to. Today seemed like the emotional YN.

YN, Louis and the boys were enjoying some calm time ahead for the show in Denmark that evening. Mia was laying on the floor, a piece of paper in front of her as she coloured quietly.

As the boys chatted amongst themselves, YN glanced over at Mia who was colouring in a picture of a flower she had drawn, the green pen moved across the paper.

Tears began to build up in her eyes, as she watched her not so little baby anymore. One by one the tears began to escape down her cheeks and little sniffles left her nose.

Louis glanced to his side, where YN was sitting. “Hey! What’s wrong babe?”. He was taken back by how quickly her mood changed.

“Are you alright YN?”. Harry asked, frown lines appearing on his forehead, as he sat up in his chair.

Niall’s attention picked up, as he began to bite at his fingernails. Liam watching the scene in front of them too.

Using the sleeve of her jumper to wipe away the tears from her cheeks, YN felt the emotions build up. “I-it’s just…Mia…s-she looks so g-grown a-and not m-my little baby anymore!”.

Niall immediately tucked his lips into his mouth, not trusting himself not to laugh, knowing it wasn’t a funny situation. Liam watched Louis for his reaction and Harry glanced down to where Mia was still colouring, completely oblivious to her mother’s emotional outburst.

“Aww babe…I know it’s bittersweet to see her grow up…but she’ll always be our baby”. Louis tried to sympathise but at the same time couldn’t understand why she was crying now considering Mia was only four.

“B-but…she’s gonna m-move out before w-we know it”. The tears kept falling, one after the other, meeting at the end of her face.

Niall now moved his hand to cover his mouth to stop the laugh that was building up inside him coming out.

“YN…babe…she’s four…I think we’ve got a while until we have to think about that”. Louis reached over to pull her into him for a cuddle as he kissed the top of her head.

“Unless she goes on X Factor at sixteen and never comes home again!”. Liam joked at very bad time, causing Harry and Niall to snap their heads in his direction.

YN only blubbered more into Louis’ arms at his teasing. “Not the time to joke Liam”. Harry intervened.

Liam only put his head down in shame. “Sorry!”.

---

After another tour leg break, YN and Louis were finally ready to share their news with the boys. They had been for their first scan and saw their second healthy and wriggly baby.

They had thought of different ways they could surprise the boys but couldn’t agree, until YN saw a little tutu outfit for Mia with ‘Big Sister’ written across the top. So that’s when they decided they would let Mia do the talking…or showing.

San Diego was the first show back and Louis and YN were the last to arrive to the venue that day as they were pre occupied dressing Mia in her new outfit.

“Dress is so pretty”. Mia span around in a circle, allowing the dress to spin with her.

“The perfect dress for a big sister”. Louis smiled wildly as Mia continued to try and make the tutu spin.

Mia ran her fingers over the words. “Mummy has a baby in her tummy”.

YN ran her hand over the smallest little bump that was peaking out from her dress. “I do…and you’re going to have a little brother or sister”.

With Mia walking proudly around the stadium with her new dress on show, YN and Louis walked behind her waiting to see if the boys would notice.

“Mia! Where’s my girl?”. Niall was quick to notice the young Tomlinson walking to the dressing room. Scooping her up into his arms and spinning her around as she giggled.

“Hey! Tell Uncle Niall he’s got to share”. Harry teased as Niall put Mia back down on the ground, allowing her to give Harry and Liam a cuddle too.

Liam pinched the tutu material of her dress. “Waw I love your dress…it’s very pretty”.

Harry turned his attention to the dress noticing the writing and re reading it to make sure he had read it correctly. But before he had chance to say anything, Niall’s voice boomed through the room.

“No way! You’re joking!”. Niall directed his shock to Louis and YN, who stood near wearing slight smirks on their faces.

Harry looked at the dress again to make sure. “Are you really? You’re having a baby?”.

“What?!”. Liam shot up from his position on the leather sofa. “You’re pregnant?”.

YN and Louis shared a look of happiness as they watched the boys react. Louis breaking the suspense that they were in, waiting for someone to say something. “We’re having another baby!”.

Louis and YN expected a happy reaction from them because of how much they loved Mia, but when the three all looked at each other and let out a loud cheer as they grabbed one and other and bounced around at the news, they were pleasantly surprised.

“YEEESSSSSS!”. The three boys screamed in excitement at another baby entering their little family they had created.

Louis wrapped his arm around YN, finding her lips with his and sealed the special moment with a kiss.

Breaking the couple up, the boys wrapped their arms around them both, bringing them in on their shared excitment.

“Hey! Watch me lady…she’s carrying precious cargo!”. Louis shouted out as the boys continued to squeeze them both.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @slaymybreathaway @wh0s-nadii @peterholland04 @lillisummers

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bunnyteetharry · 10 months ago

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The Orange Peel Theory

summary: doing the orange peel theory on harry after he got home from the studio

warnings: none?

pairing: boyfriend!arry x girlfriend! reader

————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ —————⋆ ˚｡⋆

You set up your phone in between some cooking books on shelf planted near the kitchen wall, trying your best to hide it in the most discreet way possible so Harry couldn’t spot it right away when he walks in.

Almost everywhere, you’ve seen people ask their significant others to peel an orange for them to test a theory if they will do a small task for you and you’ve been dying to do it for weeks. Recently Harry has been busy in the studio but thankfully he found some time just for the two of you.

The sound of the door unlocking made you jump and rush towards the stools near the kitchen island. You quickly grabbed a random magazine and aimlessly flipped through it, pretending to be fascinated with in so Harry wouldn’t get suspicious. As he walked in, his eyes met yours and an instant smile formed onto his lips. He shook off his shoes and threw his keys into the small green bowl you have displayed on the side table by the door.

“Hi my love” he mumbled before planting his lips to yours, his hand coming up to softly wrap clutch onto your jaw and neck. “Hey baby, how was your day” he sighed deeply as he slumped onto the stool in front of you, placing his hands on your thighs to squeeze them before wrapping his arms around your waist and laying his head on your chest. “Tiring but good, got a lot done today” he kissed the nap of you neck before laying his head back down “Hopefully we get some good news soon about the next album” you smiled ranking your hand through his hair .

“Hey H can you do me a favor” you whispered pecking his forehead, he hummed looking up at you with raised eyebrows “Can you get me and orange” he smiled and got up and around the island towards the fruit basket next to the pink coffee maker. Despise what your guest might think, that was his add on when shopping for items for your first shared apartment.

He bent over the counter and handed it towards you, without grabbing it, you moved your arms, locking your hands together and laying your head on top of them “Actually can you peel it for me baby” he looked confused for a bit before shrugging It off and started to peel the fruit for you. You started to laugh softly, looking back at the camera with a wide smile on your face, Harry looked up and searched around for what you were smiling at, as he squinted towards the books shelf he spotted the camera.

“What are you doing” he shook his head smirking, you slide off the chair and went straight to your phone, pausing it before recording again to point the camera close to his face. He rolled his eyes, still having a smirk plastered on his face. “I would have done it even if I wasn’t being recorded” he says to the camera before walking away to your shared room with your laugh echoed throw the walls.

a/n: sorry for it being so short, I’ve just been working on small things here and there, If you having any suggestions please send them! <3

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #hshq #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #x reader

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cdragons · 8 months ago

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You - Part 4

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter. Masterlist

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton. ...Well, maybe you also hated Annabel Williams as much - but you'd be damned before you let a drunk girl out in the hallway without helping her.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Sex, Felix doesn't make an appearance (but still mentioned), Reader is a girl's girl, Annabel has an epiphany, Michael hates everyone BUT Reader, Farleigh is Farleigh, alternating POVs between characters, and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic. Also Oliver is barely in this chapter, but who cares about that asshat?

Author's Note: I am so sorry for the prolonged hiatus! It was not intentional! My classes have upped the ante in how much HW they gave me, and I got distracted by reading my old GOT fanfics and got ideas for it. BUT - thank you all who've been reading this fic and sharing wonderful comments! They really help push me to become a better writer!

You were caught in a bit of a pickle – granted, it was a voluntary pickle, but a pickle nonetheless.

…Okay, so quick recap of the events that transpired this week:

Regularly-scheduled Annabel tormenting you

Got sexually-harassed by Catton

Had a self-pity session at Bowin

Got found by Mikey Gravy

Olly, the psychotic backstabber/bootlicker, tried to pimp you out to Felix Catton.

You almost committed aggravated homicide of said pimp before Michael dragged you away.

You went to the movies to drool over Johnny Depp.

You and Michael decided you would crash in his dorm room for the night…leading to your current predicament.

Right now, you were dragging an unconscious Annabel, who was drunk off her ass, with one arm flung over your shoulder as you tried to make get any information of where her dorm was out of her. It was a sad picture – mascara running down her cheeks, vomit from her mouth, and lipstick messily smeared across her face. The smell of vomit mixed with cheap booze was almost enough to make you want to drop her on the ground and leave her there if you hadn’t pitied her so much.

When you realized that you weren’t going to get anything out of her that didn’t involve projectile vomiting, you just decided to bring her to rest up in your dorm.

“I still don’t understand why you’re helping her,” Michael grunted.

Oh, yeah…and Michael was helping you, too.

“Because girl code, Gavey–” you grunted, lifting Annabel’s arm higher when you felt her slipping “–no man left behind – or well, no woman left behind in this case.”

“That’s the Geneva Code.”

“Same difference,” you groaned out. Fuck, how was this girl so heavy?

Michael’s face was getting flushed from the sweat running down his forehead. “So, girl code dictates that you have to help the bitch who’s been making your term hell?”

“Girl Code,” you huffed, “wait, hang on - she’s slipping - okay, there we go. ‘Girl Code’ is more of an honor code expected to be followed by all sisters on their journey to womanhood. And one of the most sacred rules in that honor system is that – fuck, she’s heavy – that if you see a sister drunk and unconscious, you make sure she gets home safe.”

“Or your matchbox dorm room, in this circumstance,” your friend grumbled.

You tiredly nodded. “Exactly! Besides, regardless of how heinous she is, it’s the right thing to do.”

“(Y/N), you realize she won’t be getting hypothermia, right?” Michael frustratingly groaned. “It’s late spring.”

“But that doesn’t mean there aren’t people out there who won’t take advantage of her in her current state. They’d say, ‘Oh, she was asking for it,’ or ‘she’s just imagining things, do you remember how hammered she was?’ And then it’ll be their word against hers.”

You went silent for a bit. “I don’t want that to happen to her. No one should have that happen to them – girl or guy, bully or friend.”

“Well, in any case,” Michael started as the two of you finally arrived at the beginning of your dormitory. “It’s lucky that your dorm is so close to mine. Are you sure you want her in there? There’s still the chance she’ll vomit all over your carpet if she misses the bucket or even your covers.”

You opened the door with your ID card. “I’ll just have to take that chance, I guess. Look, I’ll try to wake her up long enough to see if she remembers any of her friend’s numbers. If any of them pick up, I’ll tell them to pick her up.”

Michael looked at you with heavy doubt in his eyes. “And if they don’t? Pick up, I mean?”

“Then I guess we’ll be having a sleepover,” you sighed as you reached your room at the end of the hallway. “And then we’ll never have to see each other ever again when morning comes.”

Michael loudly snorted while you clumsily reached into your back pocket for your keys. “Don’t jinx yourself. With your bleeding heart, you’ll probably end up donating your liver to her if she doesn’t die of alcohol poisoning first.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, come one. Have a bit more faith in me – SHIT!” you exclaimed after you dropped your keys.

You quickly scrambled to the floor while Michael guffawed at your misfortune. You shot a quick glare at him to get him to shut up. The bespectacled bastard didn’t stop laughing until…like, three minutes passed. In response, you dropped Annabel’s arm from your shoulder to focus on finding your room key. You chuckled to yourself when you heard Michael curse to himself as he tried to balance the drunk girl’s weight without getting her too close to him. When you finally found it, you inserted it into the lock. You sighed in relief when the door opened. You were even more relieved that your roommate had decided to spend the night at her girlfriend’s dorm. You really didn’t want to have to explain to her why you were voluntarily helping the vile witch bitch who was actively trying to make your college years hell. Meanwhile, Michael grimaced and groaned as he held Annabel away from his body at arm’s length.

“Is sluttiness contagious through touch?” he asked.

“Unless pre-Sith Anakin suddenly pops into this hallway, I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that,” you snorted as you opened the door to let Michael drag the unconscious girl into the room.

Michael scoffed at your choice of Star Wars beefcake. “Bitch, please. Young Obi-Wan Kenobi was far superior.”

He went to the center of the room and released Annabel from his grip to let her unceremoniously fall on the floor, and her body made a soft ‘thump.’ You wrinkled your nose and grimaced at the pathetic nature of tonight. She looked less like the glamorous Oxford party ‘IT’ girl and more like one of those sad groupies who OD’d in their favorite rockstar’s pool from a house party. You didn’t know what the hell her story of tonight was – but it still didn’t mean she deserved to be left alone, slumped against a wall in a dirty hallway with vomit all over her.

You turned to Michael. “Okay! Off you trot!”

Your favorite bespectacled blonde nerd gave you a look of complete bewilderment.

“Seriously?” he asked. “Not even a thank you? I literally dragged her body here from my dormitory and risked being the first victim of a new STD contracted through skin contact.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics – if he weren’t such a numbers genius, he would have been the perfect theater kid.

“Don’t be such an incel,” you admonished. “It’s not a good look on you. And I carried more of her body weight than you, dumbass. If I left it up to you, we’d never get anywhere with your twiggy arms.”

You poked his arms in emphasis and snickered when he pouted. He crossed his arms and was about to leave when you pounced on him. A bit of Annabel’s “Britney Spears Fantasy” spray perfume soaked into his shirt, but other than that, he still smelled like himself. The scent of fresh laundry, freshly mowed grass, and spearmint toothpaste made you feel safe. His scent, combined with his body heat, enveloped you in comfort.

“Thanks, Mikey,” you whispered. “I know you didn’t have to help me, but you did anyway.”

Gavey wrapped his arms around you as he rested his chin on your head. He usually hated contact with anybody save his family, but you were always the exception. Michael should probably have warned you that the rotten and acidic odor from Annabel’s puke would ruin your shirt, but he just let himself replace her cheap perfume with your fragrance. The scent of your favorite honey and jasmine conditioner in your hair mostly covered the faint traces of turpentine and linseed oil on your skin.

“Of course I did,” he softly replied. “With your shit sense of direction, you would have ended up in the bottom of the ditch.”

You gasped and lightly pushed him away. “Uhhh, way to ruin the moment!”

Michael snickered at the way your jaw had dropped in shock and betrayal. You then resorted to mockingly punching him in the stomach as he did nothing to stop you. He couldn’t help but look at you in total and utter fondness as he continued to ‘beat him up.’

But in all honesty, Michael didn’t mind helping you. He loved it. He’d rather get Crucio-ed than say it, but you were his favorite person in the whole world. In a desert of fakes and masks of insincerity, you were like gentle rain with your genuine vibrance and rare honesty. He loved how endlessly kind and empathetic you were to others. He just hated it when you granted acts of kindness to the plebes unworthy of you. You’d give the benefit of the doubt to the worst of the worst on campus – Annabel being a case in point.

Remembering the drunk elephant in the room, Michael grabbed your fists and stared at you thoughtfully.

“Seriously, though,” he began, “why are you helping her? I know you told me about ‘girl code’ and all that. But is that seriously it?”

You thumped your head against his chest. “Look, I get it. Annabel is a horrible person, and with how awful she treated me – she doesn’t deserve my kindness, my help, or my pity. But that doesn’t change that it was the right thing to do. And if not us, who knows who would have picked her up? If another guy other than you ‘helped’ her…you do the math.”

A groggy voice broke the two of you apart. “Are you two going to shag? Because I can leave.”

You and Michael jumped apart as you watched Annabel lift herself from the floor and stagger to her feet. Her legs wobbled briefly before giving out, and then she fell to the floor. You turned to Michael and gave him one final hug before seeing him out. He looked disgusted at the girl sitting on the cheap carpet before turning to you, concerned. Mikey asked if you were confident you didn’t need him here to help you.

“I’ll take it from here,” you reassured him. You flexed your arm – 80s jock bully style. “I’m a tough girl. I carry my canvases and textbooks and everything, after all.”

“Okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “But if you end up putting her down, give me a call, and I’ll help you bury the body.”

“Um,” interjected Annabel, “you know I’m right here, you arse.”

“Hey,” you admonished, “he did help carry you here. He could have left you in that hallway alone.”

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “Probably did it so he could cop a feel, the slimy wanker.”

“Please,” Michael sneered, “as if I’d ever willingly touch someone with a higher body count than Dahmer and Bundy combined. I’m only here because I wanted to help (Y/N) – she’s the one who was worried about your sad self.”

Ugh, this was going to be a long night. You turned to Michael with apologetic eyes and reassured him that he wasn’t a wanker. You promised you’d make it up to him by buying all the Crunchie bars he wanted. Mikey’s eyes softened at your sincerity as he began to walk down the corridor to make the trek to his dorm.

You softly closed your door so as not to cause any further disturbance. When you turned around, you were startled by the dead stare Annabel was giving you. You looked down at your feet as you shifted uncomfortably in your spot. You cleared your throat to try and break the tension.

“Um, soooo…I’m glad you’re awake. You were sitting so still in that hall, I was worried you OD’d,” you nervously joked. But all she did was continue to stare at you. “So, do you have your phone with you? I figured it would be best if you called one of your friends. I’m sure they’re really worried about you. I know I’d be going out of my mind if one of my friends–”

“What kind of fucking game are you playing here?” she snarled. Her large, doe-brown eyes narrowed in anger as you stopped talking.

“Uhhh,” your mind was coming out blank. “Wait, I don’t – I don’t know what you mean?”

Annabel rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t play stupid. Why’d you help me? Did you want to take pictures of me drunk and unconscious?”

Your jaw fucking dropped. “What?! NO! I just–”

“I’m sure that would’ve made some fucking good blackmail material,” ignoring you and continuing, “I can see it: ‘Annabel Williams drunk in the hall after trying to shag fucking sad Ollie.’ You’re so obvious.”

You tried to explain yourself. “Okay, look- I think there’s a big misunderstanding here–”

“Or maybe you want to show the pictures to Felix, not that he’d care or anything. You got him all wrapped up in your little Yankee finger, you know that? It’s so pathetic and sick – it makes me want to–”

“HEY!” you yelled – finally making her just shut UP. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths to calm down. “Look, Michael and I were walking to his dorm when we saw you were sitting in the hallway. I tried to ask you if you had your phone on you and if you wanted me to call anyone, but you were out cold. And I couldn’t just leave you there, okay? That’s dangerous! And I didn’t know where you lived – you know, considering that you hate me–” you cut off your rambling with a deep breath “–so he and I dragged you to my dorm.”

The silence that followed was so stifling you wanted to open a window. Maybe if you let some fresh air in, it might calm the girl down. It would also help diffuse some of the puke odor stinking up your room.

“…Anyway, if you don’t have your phone on you right now, I can always call them myself. Do you remember their numbers? I know you and India are close. Do you think she’s available right now?”

More silence.

You began fidgeting. “I mean, you can stay over if no one is available? I don’t mind since my roommate is sleeping over–”

Annabel interrupted you again. “You’re so full of it. You just wanted to help me? For what? For the sake of being the goody-two-shoes kiss-ass, you’ve always been? Did you want me to bow and worship you?”

“Annabel,” you groaned, “it’s been a really long night, okay? And I don’t feel like arguing when you aren’t sober and in your right mind.”

“Oh yeah,” she bitterly laughed. “Be a pushover, and get everyone to love you. Tell everyone how much of a ‘heinous’ bitch I am. Play the victim – that’s all you’ll ever be. Just go back with your pathetic little nerd friend and be invisible and boring like the goody-goody who thinks she’s better than the rest of us.”

The quiet in the room was surprisingly loud. Shock and disbelief morphed into fury as your fists clenched so hard that your nails left red welts on your skin. Your body trembled in anger as your tongue felt too heavy to express everything you wanted to say.

‘Pushover’ she called you? ‘Play the victim,’ she said?

Who the hell was she to have any right to judge you? Did she have any idea what you’ve sacrificed? How much have you suffered and left behind? Could she even have the slightest decency to understand what you’ve been through? Of what she put you through?

…You know what? …Fuck her. Fuck Annabel Williams and all of Oxford’s elite. They were proof that Michael was right – that doing the right thing meant nothing to them.

Your voice was cold, and your eyes were numb. “…I’m going to take a shower,” you grab a towel and your shower buddy. “I want you to get the hell out of my dorm by the time I get back. Call your friend or don’t? Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care.”

You slammed the door on your way out.

“Finally,” Annabel thought with some relief, “she’s gone.”

When you left, the room felt ten degrees colder the way the door slammed, and Annabel felt goosebumps form on her arm. This was the worst night of her life. She had never felt so humiliated.

Her mummy told her she was just born blessed because God knew she was exceptional, and she always believed that to be true. For her entire life, she was the girl every boy wanted to bed and the girl every girl wanted to be. She never had to fight for anyone’s attention. Her parents gladly bought her the latest versions of top-of-the-line technology. Her closet here and at her parent’s townhouse in Kensington was filled with designer-brand exclusives and limited-editions. She had everything.

For people like her, life was supposed to be easy. She was born at the top, so she would be there till the day she died.

So why was she losing to you?

When she came to Oxford, she figured it would be as easy as most of her life. She’d spend her time partying and networking with the right people. If she had to blackmail a nerd to take her classes or blow a teacher to give her an “A”? Who would say otherwise?

But then she met Felix Catton and finally felt she had met her match. Finally, there was someone who checked all the boxes: rich, tall, handsome, and fun. That part made Felix the golden sheep who stood above the rest of the flock – he was fun. Not only did he know how to have a good time, he knew how to properly fuck a girl, too.

She was so drunk off the taste of his lips and the feel of him around her – so much so that she broke her golden rule.

“Never fall first.”

Annabel felt herself falling hard for Felix Catton. She thought they were exclusive. He was her boyfriend, and she was his girlfriend. But then…he became distant. He stopped calling he and ignored her when they returned to campus after the break. But then he and she left the bar at Kings’ Crossing, and she was so happy! She wanted to cry when he kissed her hard and ripped her 100 quid top in half.

It didn’t matter if she wasn’t wet when he entered her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t wait for her to adjust when he started to thrust. It didn’t matter when she tried to moan his name; he would cover her mouth with his giant hand to shut her up. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t close to finishing when he came inside her. It didn’t matter when her windpipes were almost crushed when he fell on top of her after finishing.

They were together. He chose her! Annabel and Felix – Mrs. Felix Catton, she could see it now. They’d have a wedding in his house at Saltburn. She would have to meet his parents, but she wasn’t worried – all her flings’ parents loved her! They would be together forever, and nothing would ever–

“(Y/N),” Felix whispered above her – and Annabel’s world completely fell apart.

She immediately shoved his body off hers and hurriedly dressed before getting the hell out of his room. Annabel didn’t bother putting on her shoes before running with tears down her face to her dorm. And when she returned to her single, she flung herself to her bed and cried to sleep. She didn’t bother attending class that week – not when her heart broke.

Felix had been thinking about you – you. He called out your name after finishing. Was he imagining your naked body when hers was under him? Had he been imagining you every time he fucked her?

Annabel smelled Felix’s aftershave and wanted to rip the skin off her body. God, she never felt more like a whore in her entire life.

“God,” she thought, “I was so pathetic! How could I be so stupid to fall for Felix Catton? Why did I trick myself into hoping that we would be together?”

Felix wanted a good girl—like you—the American scholarship student who wanted to paint pretty pictures and was at the top of her classes. The lovely New Yorker who hung around losers and still held your head up high despite every professor thinking you were in over your head to come here. Some pushover bitch who was so pathetic and actually–

The door slammed open again, and Annabel’s pretty sure she’d scream if she weren’t so fucking tired. You came storming in with your towel and shower caddy in your hands, and your eyes were a raging storm while your lips were pursed like you had sucked a lemon. Your nostrils are flaring as you angrily breathe through your nose. Annabel was about to open her mouth, but you menacingly pointed at her with your pointer finger. It felt like forever until you finally opened your mouth.

“Look! We don’t have to be friends and I don’t expect us to be friends – but you know what? YES, I WOULD LIKE A THANK YOU! I dragged your unconscious ass across campus, and you REEKED of vomit and bad perfume! And not to body shame, but you are WAY TOO SKINNY to be healthy to be as heavy as you were when I carried you!”

“Excuse me?!” Annabel sputtered. “Who the fuck–”

“Oh! I’m not done!” you shouted. “I don’t know if you being horrible and a bitch is supposed to be some power trip or some shit, but it’s so cliché! Are we in Mean Girls? Are you Regina George? No, am I Janice from Lebanon? NO! And on that – I have a few bones to pick with you…MISSY!

I–” You pointed to yourself “–am NOT a pushover, okay? I fucking beat your stupid manwhore boy toy like it was goddamn ‘Whack o’ Mole’ for ruining my painting! Pushovers don’t do that! FURTHERMORE – me calling you a ‘horrible person’ or ‘heinous bitch’ isn’t me ‘playing the victim’! You HAVE been a HORRIBLE person to me, alright? And what’s worse – I don’t have the slightest idea why! Was it something I said to you last term? Or were you born a spoilt princess who never had to work for anything in her life because mommy and daddy will always give you everything you want so you could forget that they would probably instead work than deal with their brat? Seriously – what is it? Because you’re driving me CRAZY!”

When you were done, Annabel sat on the floor, completely silent, and stared at you unblinkingly. She hadn’t expected you to come back so quickly – let alone to scream at her. She stared at your huffing and shallow breathing in awe and slight amazement. Your hair looked frazzled from your outburst, and your (e/c) eyes were bright with wild impulse.

Annabel felt her bottom lip quiver and stared at an ugly stain on the carpet. She didn’t want to show any more of herself than she had already. But what the hell? You already saw more of her than most of her so-called ‘friends.’ What was a little more? If she had to show more of the ugliest parts of herself, why not show it to someone she already hated?

Before she could stop herself, Annabel felt her shoulders sag and shake as sobs tore through her petite frame. Tears and snot were running down her face as she furiously tried to wipe them away – if nothing but to try and save some shred of dignity. Annabel was crying so much that she didn’t see the surprised look on your face morph to slight guilt since you thought you may gone too far with your rant. You reached out to tap her shoulder when you heard her speak.

“Why doesn’t he want me?” she sobbed. “What do I have to do to get him to love me?”

If you were taken aback by her crying, you were completely caught off-guard by her questions. You walked over to your desk and grabbed a box of tissues before crouching on the ground. You handed her a few tissues from the box and waved to her face to present them. Annabel noticed how you tried hard not to see how much her hand trembled when she reached forward to grab the tissues from you.

“Who?” you softly asked her. “Are you talking about Felix?”

Annabel blew her nose into the tissue hard. “Who else?! I mean…look at me! Everyone wants me! Everyone – boys, girls, teachers! Do you know how many of my past flings gladly emptied their pockets so I might wank them? But he wants you! What do you have that I don’t?”

Concern and pity shifted to confusion before realization kicked in, and you were so done with this conversation already. Maybe you were a slightly horrible person for this, but you felt so disappointed when Annabel told you that her entire drama with you had been over Felix Catton.

“…That’s why you’ve been tormenting me this entire term so far?” you flatly asked. “Because of Felix Catton?”

“He called out your name–” she gasped a heavy sob “– while he was fucking me! Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Okay, wow,” you thought, “that’s actually really shitty – fuck.”

“Do you know how humiliating that was for me? He was still inside me, for fucks’ sake! I felt him shrink!”

Okay – that was so much more information about Annabel’s and Felix’s sex life than you ever wanted to know.

You coughed into your hand as your face flushed red. “Oh, um–I’ve never really…done it before. So…I wouldn’t really don’t know how that feels.”

“Ugh, of course, you’re a virgin,” she groaned. “Don’t tell me you don’t drink either.”

When you remained silent, Annabel let out a bitter laugh. “Damn, you think you’re hot shit and everything. But you really are a goody-goody. What – you saving yourself for God or some shit?”

“HEY! Just because I like to keep my head down and not a party and get plastered every five minutes doesn’t make me a goody-two-shoes. I just don’t like the taste of alcohol, and increased chances of lung cancer doesn’t exactly spell out ‘fun’ for me.”

But Annabel ignores your outburst and continues to dismiss you. “Yeah, right. I bet you call your mommy and daddy every night. Do you tell them that you miss them and want to go home? Or do you wish to bake cookies with your mummy as daddy watches the telly?”

Annabel’s taunting is only responded to with silence as she grows confused by your melancholic expression.

“…I can’t call them at all,” you respond. “International calls are too expensive. The best I can do is email or Skype. And planned calls can hardly be reliable since my parents’ schedules are always all over the place with their jobs.”

“When–” Annabel’s voice cracked “– when’s the last time you saw them? In real life?”

“I was supposed to see them during Christmas Break,” you bitterly explained, “but then Felix crashed into me when I was on my way to deliver it. He ruined my painting, and I had to redo it completely, not to fail and completely flush my parents’ money down the drain.”

“I thought you were here on scholarship? Doesn’t that mean you don’t have to pay to come here?”

“I’m here on a partial scholarship,” you explained. “It covers a good part of my tuition, but not all of it – and definitely not for housing and meal plans. Travel expenses alone were so expensive, so I had to leave alone. Mom cried so much at the security checkpoint, and Dad almost didn’t want me to go. I didn’t even want to go. But they wanted me to experience more of the world while I still could.”

“…Do you miss them?” Annabel asked. She felt silly asking a question with such an obvious answer. But, hearing how you talked about your parents crying their goodbyes to you compared to the simple wave she got hers after they dropped her off campus made her feel a deep longing.

You let out a shaky sob. “More than anything. You never realize how much you miss your home and family until an entire ocean separates you.”

Annabel uncomfortably shifted in her spot as she noticed your eyes getting misty. She couldn’t remember the last time she cried over missing her parents and felt that you were being overdramatic. Annabel spent her entire break with her parents at their house, but she couldn’t remember the last time they ate at the same table unless it was for one of her dad’s dinner parties. What did it feel like – to miss and love someone so much after not seeing them for a year?

What did it feel like – to have an entire lifetime of that kind of love?

Does having that kind of love make you?

“…Why did you help me?” Annabel finally asked. She couldn’t bear the tension anymore. “You could have just left me there. Why help me and bring me here of all places?”

“…Because it was the right thing to do,” you explained and shrugged. “You were drunk and vulnerable. Maybe it was fear of being a potential bystander if someone tried to take advantage of you – but I was scared something was going to happen to you. Regardless of my feelings toward you and yours toward me, no one should ever find themselves in a position where if they’re telling the truth, it’s someone else’s word against theirs. I’ve seen it too happen many times already.”

“What do you say in response to that?” Annabel thought to herself – shocked by how genuinely you answered her question. Since you were honest with her, she figured she could at least be honest with you.

“If it were you,” she began, “I wouldn’t have done for you what you did for me.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “you probably wouldn’t – but that’s neither here nor there. Because I’m me, and you’re you.”

“…Are you really not interested in Felix?” Annabel asked. She was surprised by your disgusted groan.

“Oh my god–” you put your face into your hands and loudly groaned “–I don’t understand why everyone has an obsession with this guy.”

Annabel raised her brow. “Seriously?”

“Yes! He’s so gross – I studied in an empty classroom last week. He sat next to me, basically propositioned me, and then put his hand on my thigh! Does that sound like someone I would want to date?”

“You know he’s just doing it to get your attention because he likes you, right?”

You scoffed at her input. “Pffft– and that makes it alright of him to invade my personal space via sexual harassment? I hate how everyone makes excuses for him – and why? Because he’s richer than God and has an ‘alright-looking’ face? So what?”

“Oh, believe me,” snickered Annabel, “he’s more than just ‘alright-looking’ and he fucks as good as he looks.”

You sagely shook your head. “A person like that has nothing to offer himself. He desperately clings to his family’s wealth and the benefits of his status so tightly – and he pretends not to enjoy it, but he’s the type of person to love leeching on someone’s misfortune to feel better about himself.”

You shuddered as you remembered Felix’s constant leering at you since the term began.

“He’s like a vampire – I’ve seen enough of them in high school to recognize them from miles away.”

Annabel was utterly silent at your analysis of Oxford’s Golden Boy. She never considered the possibility of someone out there who didn’t absolutely covet and revere him. She assumed that you were purposely playing ‘hard-to-get’ to get his attention, but maybe you were sincere in his disgust by him.

“Plus, he looks like the type to be absolutely shit at foreplay and only knows how to stick it in.”

Annabel was so caught off-guard by your statement that she immediately burst out laughing. You were surprised by her reaction and started to laugh, too. She was laughing so hard that tears started rolling down her cheeks, and her stomach started to hurt.

“HE IS!” she agreed while nodding. “He does the bare minimum! I’ve been giving him constant blowjobs, and I can count the number of times he’s eaten me out with one hand! The only type of prep he knows how to do is finger me!”

“Oh my god! EW!” you guffawed. “Why did you put up with him for so long?!”

Annabel shrugged. “He’s the most popular guy on campus – even the upperclassmen adore him. I was always the popular girl throughout primary and secondary prep. It just made sense.”

“My parents told me college was all about discovering new things about yourself,” you said. “Maybe…you could do that for yourself.”

Annabel looked wistful before nodding. “Yeah…you know this doesn’t mean we’re friends, right?”

You rolled your eyes. “Please, tonight’s the last night I’m willingly dealing with a demon like you. I’ll stick to forcing Michael to watch my favorite Johnny Depp movies—thank you very much.”

Annabel watched your eyes soften at the mention of your friend…Michael Gravy? Was he the guy who left the two of you together after snarking at her?

…Oh god, it all made sense now.

“Are you and Gravy fucking?” she bluntly asked. She huffed in amusement at how red your face became as you began to sputter.

“WHAT?! No-NO! We’re friends!” you exclaimed before getting all shy.

“You were awfully protective of him a bit ago to be ‘just friends,’” Annabel countered. “Spill it – what’s going on between you two?”

“He’s my best friend,” you explained to Annabel. “He let me stay with his family after I finished repainting my assignment – which was really amazing of him.”

She watched how you smiled when continuing to talk about him.

“I know he can seem a bit odd and rude at first,” you continued. “But Michael is one of the best people on campus. He can be really sweet when you get close to him – especially when he talks about his family. His little sister, Lily, is so adorable! He’s a total nerd but a complete sweetheart when you get to know him.”

Annabel bemusedly watched as you gushed about your ‘best friend.’ It was almost sweet how gone you were for the nerd. You didn’t even realize how gone you were for him. For a bit, Annabel could see why Felix was so enamored with you.

“Well,” she interrupted as she stood up, “I guess your obliviousness to your feelings isn’t any of my business or whatever. Thanks for…helping me – it was really nice of you.”

You warmly smiled at her. “Sure! Do you have to meet anyone tomorrow morning?”

“Uh, no?”

You walked to your closet and grabbed a towel, a worn T-shirt, and old sweats. You handed them to her as Annabel looked at you in confusion.

“Since you’re here,” you began, “and it’s already like…3 a.m. – you might as well shower and stay over since tomorrow’s Saturday.”

“…Why?”

“You still have puke all over you,” you explained, “and it’s getting really hard pretending it’s not extremely gross. Plus, I can’t imagine you’re comfortable right now.”

“What’s with the clothes?”

You shrugged. “Well, I can’t exactly have you sleep in your dress and ruin my sheets! You can shower and sleep on my bed while I sleep on my roommate’s. Now, are you going to take them?”

Annabel hesitated before she took the bundle from your hands. You then opened the door. While holding it, you looked at her as if expecting her to follow you. What confused her most was the way she did exactly that.

While in the shower, she didn’t even mind that you didn’t have any of her usual hair products. Your conditioner looked like it was bought at a cheap dollar store – you didn’t even have a loofah. But when she exited the shower stall before drying herself with your towel and changing into your baggy clothes, she felt calmer than she had these past few weeks. As she crawled under your sheets and comforter, you turned off the night and wished her good night.

Annabel stared at the ceiling for about an hour before she grabbed her phone. She managed to find it while digging through her dress pockets. She was going to wash it when she got back to her dorm. Opening it, she rolled down at the dozens of messages from India and their girlfriends. Her eyes slightly widened at the soft *ping* her phone let out when she got a new message to show it was from Felix.

To her surprise, she didn’t feel anything. She didn’t care he messaged her that he had forgotten their plans. Staring at her screen, she just felt…nothing. So she did the very thing she should have done weeks ago.

She deleted Felix Catton’s number from her contact list.

Annabel slept better that night than she had all term.

After that night with Annabel, life simply went on. She and you weren’t ‘friends’ per se, but she no longer went out of her way to torment you like she had done before. She even told off some of her friends when they talked about you behind your back.

You two weren’t friends, but you hoped that there was at least some fraction of mutual respect. If you couldn’t be friends, then at least you two didn’t have to be enemies – you were happy to settle for being a ‘frenemy.’

You found yourself sitting by yourself at one of the tables in the library. Michael had to meet with one of his teachers about an essay but promised to meet with you as soon as he finished. You were repeatedly listening to Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats” when you heard the chair next to you being pulled out.

Fully expecting it to be Felix, you were ready to tell him to fuck off and bother some other poor soul that needed saving, but you were surprised to find that the person sitting next to you was his cousin, Farleigh Start. He introduced himself by stating his name and giving you a firm handshake. There wasn’t much you could do but reciprocate.

“Quite the save you gave our Annabel,” Farleigh grinned. “Very magnanimous of you, especially considering how she treated you.”

“What do you want from me?” you blurted out. “I’m busy, and I would appreciate it if you just left so I can continue studying.”

You weren’t normally so rude, but this was Felix Catton’s cousin – and if this was a ploy to get you in his pants, you wanted no part of it. But your skepticism only seemed to please the boy sitting beside you more. His wry grin curled into a wide Cheshire Cat smile as he continued to stare at you with eager fascination.

Farleigh started to lean toward you, and you instinctively leaned away from him. You eyed him with extreme caution as if he were a mad scientist and you were a paralyzed specimen. And his eyes looked like he couldn’t wait to cut you open.

“I like you,” he stated. “Let’s be friends.”

Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @arcielee, @valeskafics, @asa-do-your-thing, @aphroditesmoon, @axelsagewrites, @the1999kid, @poolnoodlerescuer, @aemondsbabe, @winterblu2, @abaker74, @whereismymindno, @agustdeeyaa, @iamavailablesstuff, @bonnieblue0606, @st-eve-barnes, @nyxthoughtss, @immyowndefender, @ilovemydinoboi, @ahristata, @cxp1d, @jinsoulorbitzen12, @temptation-waits, @bollzinurmouth, @jcngw0ns, @seababehh, @destinydestnation, @lankyboi4, @mindless-rock, @cassavacakes, @paradisepoisons, @pansexualpamandabear, @erikasurfer, @lissamans, @cookielovesbook-akie, @thesmutconnoisseur, @izzyisstuff, @lariisouz

Reblog if you liked reading this chapter and want me to continue! Also please comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

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

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autumnoakes · 3 months ago

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Wanted to let you know I made an edited/corrected version of that adhd safety post: more research is needed, a correlation has been found—basically people in the study who were medicated showed the same dementia risk as the average population, while unmedicated people had a significantly increased risk

(post in question, article in question)

i'm taking this moment to nerd out a little bit because i think the findings ARE fascinating and would have some important implications if this correlation is further supported. but going through the article, they seem to base the entire study on "adult-onset ADHD", which is something that's barely been researched and the authors only cite one source on it. they do outright state that they lacked information on childhood-onset ADHD (which is the current standard, so to speak - the DSM-V lists that symptoms have to be present before the age of 12 in order to be diagnosed with ADHD).

the article on adult-onset ADHD is also interesting, but they do mention that they didn't interview participants on the criteria which states that symptoms must be present in childhood, because people couldn't remember, basically. this is another area that needs more research done (article on adult ADHD, it's open access). my issue with the conclusion the researchers drew here is that they make an assumption/have a suspicion that clinicians diagnosing adults also ignore that criteria, which i don't think is necessarily true (personal opinion)

thank you for the ask though! the authors was pretty pushy on their findings and conclusion, but looking deeper into it, the study had quite a few issues. i don't think the results are invalid, but it's something that requires a lot of nuance and a lotttt of further research.

#arry gets asks #i just remember seeing this article last year and seeing people panic about it then too #your initial point though on car crashes is something i've noticed in myself too since i'm unmedicated and currently learning how to drive #but ALAS the article that the washington post article references isnt open access so i couldn't read it fully #*shakes fist*#ADHD

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psychomusic · 11 days ago

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presenting to you: vegoia laran!

vegoia is the daughter of suri and tar'x laran, so, she's half-mirialan and half-zabrak. she lived on the mountains of mirial with her family until she began her jedi training at around 10 years, then she became a jedi seer.

more of her childhood under the cut! the rest of her story will be on other posts, I'll link them at the end when I'll post them

thank you @furious-blueberry0 for letting me use your padawan braid idea and jedi seer headcanon!! i really really love these ideas <3

since her birth, she seemed special at the eyes of her people, due to an old local myth: the founding witch.

(the myth is: a powerful witch, haunted by complex visions of the future, was exiled to the desert planet of mirial. after years spent traveling she had one clear vision on top of a mount, in which she saw the potential beauty of the valley, full of different lifeforms flourishing. with her magical powers, she turned that possible future into a reality, and everything changed: the 4 peoples who lived there started turning into trees and animals, what once was sterile rock became fertile ground, and craters were filled with water. but despite her good work, the incomprehensible visions kept returning. tired of the universe's infinite lessons, she decided to crystalize all of her visions and knowledge into the sacred crystal, and prophetized, before dying, that one day someone attuned to it would come to claim the crystal and understand the lessons she couldn't understand)

because of her albinism (that made her white like the crystal) and of her horns (the crystal has an horned shape), people thought she was the prophetized one. when she began to talk - rather late, and asked people to resolve the riddles that "a bearded man told her in her dreams" - what was just a rumor solidified into a belief.

her mother and grandfather, both in the high priesthood, taught her everything they could. they taught her to study, to reflect, and they explained to her their religion and folklore. also, her mother often tried to help her in her quest of finding answers. from her, vegoia learned how to study, and the right mindset to be able, later, to explore the jedi's philosophy and beliefs.

but it was her father that, despite his absence, taught her how to compromise with her visions, how to be patient, how to handle the state of ignorance, and how to enjoy it anyway. he was somehow better at understanding her, and making her understand things, than everyone else in the town. maybe, it was because he not only had met different force users, but also had experience with a force sensitive kid (his little brother, whom vegoia shared a lot of similar traits). despite her mother being a healer & priestess, and believing in the value in helping people, it was her father who really grounded that belief in her. in particular, he did it in a moment that. also shaped her experience of the force. a simple moment, though: she had asked him to kill a scary bug that was laying flat on its back, but he refused and instead asked her to help it. he believed that helping is what gives life sense - even more than the bonds we make, because it can't be undone. when vegoia picked up the bug and helped it get back on its feet, she could feel the bug's relief, and maybe even gratitude, through the force. this was the imprint of her experience of the force: connection (even more than her visions, that just "happened" to her, and couldn't actively call upon her).

BUT I DIGRESSED way too much on her childhood. the most important event in her childhood was the day she was taken by the jedi, even if she didn't know what truly happened that day.

the SIS had been tracking her father's movements for a while and had found out about his trips to mirial. worried that the empire was planning something, they sent a squad of operatives to investigate. since his father had often worked for the dark council, the SIS requested a jedi to come with them. when they arrived, suri went to talk to them. they threatened her into talking and she told them of their secret family. the SIS decided to take them prisoners, capture him when he got back, and make him talk using his family as leverage. the jedi disagreed with such methods but the operation was under the SIS's jurisdiction. suri then tried to convince them to leave the town and her daughter, and to instead blackmail him with her. the SIS refused, fearing that the sith might kill him before he could even know about the blackmailing. the jedi, feeling vegoia's strong presence in the force decided to make a deal: vegoia would've come with him to the temple to become a jedi. she'd still have a life, while suri would stay under their custody for the SIS trap. this would also show the agent the difference between the republic and the empire, and hopefully that would help him talk. she accepted at one condition: that they took her away before her father came back, so that she wouldn't have to live through it. vegoia didn't know of her father's real job, like everyone else in the town (everyone thought he had traded his services to the hutts to have the sacred horned crystal back).

they agreed, but, while suri was busy packing thing for vegoia, the SIS decided to put another condition. vegoia musn't be told anything about that day until her father had been taken into republic's custody, as a precaution. the jedi agreed, thinking it wouldn't be long before her father would come home and be arrested. little did he know this momentary omission would grow into a years-old lie.

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thesharkwhalewhoohooooo · 3 months ago

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Bridget x fem! Oc

Short one! Also, another OC. I’m so bad at keeping it to a few. Also I’m hearing this consistent scraping sound that sometimes becomes inconsistent and its 4:13 here and I’m about to cry i’m so fucking scared it won’t go away.

"Oh my lord." Ella caught the white haired girl right before she fell onto the stone, rolling her eyes and hoisting her up again, helping her keep her balance.

"Oh my god stop fainting like that Arry." She groaned, Artelia stabilised herself, standing weak kneed on the courtyard stones as she leaned on Ella.

"She is so-."

"Hot?"

"-Magnificently perfect, who allowed her to roam this earth? I should personally thank them." Ella almost killed herself when she heard that, instead pushing the rabbit off of her and onto Bridget as she approached.

"Hi Lia! How has your day been?" Bridget grinned brightly at her, holding her close to her chest.

"Good! Amazing even!" Atrelia responded after a second of staring at her future queen.

"Could you send a letter to my mom? I have to ask her something about the upcoming free days." The royal messenger nodded quickly, wrapping her arms around the taller girl's waist.

"I still have some homework I wanted to do now, so, if you could....?" She trialed off, carefully unhooking her hands from her lower back and lifting up Artelia so she was standing straight.

"Right, wait, what subject?" Bridget sighed, patting her head and pulling her to a table, saying her goodbyes to Ella who didn't have a free period.

"It's for math, we can do it together?"

"Shhhhh!" Artelia harshly shushed Ella when she burst into her dorm room, probably to copy her homework for tomorrow.

"All right! I get it." Ella whisper yelled back, glancing at Bridget who had her head on Artelia's lap, fast asleep.

"It's on my desk, just take it and give it back tomorrow morning." Ella nodded, tiptoeing towards the desk and snatching the papers, quickly racing out after.

"You didn't have to be so harsh on her." Bridget half-slurred, still on the brink of sleep.

"I thought you were asleep princess." The pink-haired girl merely hummed, rolling a bit so her body laid straight on the bed and not half off of it.

"I thought I was too." The rabbit pushed a bit off hair out of her face, looking down at her lovingly.

"I love you."

"Love you too Sweets." She rolled over, hiding her face in Artelia's thighs.

"Can we lay normally? Now that I know you're awake I am not continuing to sit up like this." Bridget moaned in protest, throwing her arms up to lay next to Artelia, and going limp.

"Bridget!" The girl in question ignored her, opting to grab onto her legs instead.

"Come on dear. Let's just lay down..."

#the depths contrapts #rise of red #ror #descendants #descendants the rise of red #descendants 4 #bridget of wonderland #bridget x oc #ruby rose turner #bridget x reader

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hikarimiyanaga · 11 months ago

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The Queen's Bride (Part 1)

Summary :

Being a rich man's kid isn't as exciting as everyone makes it out to be.

You have no freedom.

Every choice has been made for you ever since you were born.

What you eat. What course you were going to study. What school you're going to.

Even the one you were going to marry.

So to your surprise, your father has finally chosen one thing right for you.

Daenerys Targaryen.

Warnings : Omegaverse. Stark!Reader. Omega!Reader x Alpha!Daenerys Targaryen. Modern!AU.

Look who's finally watching Game of Thrones. Surprise, surprise, I fell in love with Daenerys.

"This is bullshit!" Jon, your cousin, shouts as he paces around you.

Both of you were just given two names.

Two people you never met that you were going to spend the rest of your life with.

"Who the fuck is Ygritte and why do I have to marry her?" Jon shouts in frustration and you shrug.

"I mean, Father could've paired you with one of the Lannisters. Myrcella is an omega-"

"Shut up." Jon glares at you.

"You have to admit it. Ygritte is pretty as fuck."

"Lucky for Robb, huh? He's the heir so he could choose freely."

"She is. But- I don't know her, Y/N." Jon sighs as he sits next to you.

"Lucky asshole." You slap his arm.

"He's my big brother."

"He is. I wish I could be the heir."

"Seriously? You? Jon Stark of Winterfell Corp? Are you hearing me?"

"Shut up." The two of you look at each other then laugh. "Yours is pretty too, by the way. And a Targaryen too."

"Why them? Our mottos are literally parallels."

"Yeah. Winter is Coming."

"Fire and Blood. Like why her?" You groan at the ceiling.

"Just be glad that she's pretty. Some don't get that lucky."

"Are you talking about-" Jon nods and you sigh.

"I just wish we had freedom."

"Me too. Y/N. Me too."

You get your bag and look at the empty apartment around you.

"I need Sansa to room with me. Like gods, this place is fucking big enough for ten people at least." You mumble to yourself as you leave the apartment.

Just like everything else in your life. The apartment was provided by your Father, Ned Stark. You could count the number of times on your fingers that you've actually talked to him rather than just receive orders or scolding from him.

Your phone rings just as you get inside the Westeros University. You answer it as you see your little sister's name.

"Y/N! How are you?" You smile at Arya's voice.

"I'm good, Arry. Where are you?" How is she calling you right now?

"I'm at home. There was a lice problem at school today so we went home! Are you free??" You grin at her exciting tone.

"In two hours, I will be. Why?"

"Can we go play? Mom said she'll let me go to the mall if I'm with you!"

"Sure, can you wait there and behave?"

"Yep! See you later!"

"See you." You say softly and smile as you go to your first and last class of the day. You were so glad that you chose your own schedule. You sit down at your usual seat and hum as you take out your laptop. Looks like professor Varys is late today.

Westeros University is the biggest University in all of Westeros. It has lessons even in magic.

"Did you hear, Y/N?" You look up as Oberyn sits beside you. You were somewhat friends. He can charm anyone in a room while you can outread anyone in a room. Truth be told, even you didn't know why he talked to you.

"Hear what?"

"Not interested in rumors as usual?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Even if Varys tells us otherwise, I still don't like rumors and hearsays." Oberyn nods and grins in satisfaction.

"Which is why you make the perfect audience." You sigh. "Listen to this. Someone is doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Seeing if the dragons will choose them."

"Seriously? That thing hasn't been done in like 200 years."

"Right? But someone is brave enough to do it now. You know what it means, right?"

"Yeah. They get to sit on the Iron Throne regardless of their last name."

"And?" You raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"And what?"

"Complete freedom!" You tilt your head at him. "No more choices by parents! No arranged marriages!"

"Damn. Sounds like a dream come true."

"For you guys. I still don't get why you guys won't love freely."

"Because last names have a value of their own. Here at Westeros at least. Oh. And Westeros Conglomerate too." Oberyn shakes his head.

"What you guys should value is talent, not blood."

"Meritocracy rather than blood right. Reasonable." Oberyn looks at you. "I don't make the choices though."

"Marry the king then."

"I'd rather die, Oberyn. I'd rather eat my own shit."

"Still hate men?"

"Only romantically." Oberyn chuckles just as Varys comes through the door.

"You're missing out on like half of the world then." You give him a smile.

"I don't think I am."

You hum as you park your car in front of the Stark Mansion. You were just getting your bag when you feel a pair of arms circle around your legs. You look down and see Arya smiling at you.

"Hey, Arya!" You scoop her up and she squeals. Arya is only 9 years younger but you love doing this to her. "Where's Ma and Father?"

"Dad is still at work! Ma is inside!" You put her down and nod.

"Come on, then. I'll tell Ma that I'll take you to the mall." Arya grins at you and she begins to tell you about her classmates and school.

"And then this one guy-"

"Y/N! You're home!" Catelyn Stark rushes over and hugs you. You hug her just as tightly.

"Hey, Ma. Arya wanted to play with me and it's been months since I've been home so I figured I should take her."

"I'm sure she understands that you're busy with university and all."

"I know, Ma! But school is out and she said she was free." Arya pouts from beside you and you smile.

"I am free, no worries." You ruffle Arya's hair and she smiles at you.

"Be sure to be back for Dinner then."

"We'll buy some before we get home. Are Robb and Father-"

"Busy." You nod in understanding then take Arya's hand.

"You ready for an afternoon with me? Your best sister?"

"YEAH! We'll destroy those high scores in the arcade!" You grin and agree.

You come home with a passed out Arya, a bag full of plushies, and a bag with food.

"You actually made her sleep? You are a godsend." You laugh at your mom and grin.

"Once you get Arya's quirks and use them against her, she can make herself run out of energy."

"Please don't tell-"

"Ma, she wants to. She can afford to learn it still."

"But her marri-"

"She's still 9, ma. She doesn't need to think about that yet."

"Right. Are you staying for dinner at least?"

"Sure. Is Sansa-" Before you finish your sentence, someone has already hugged you.

"Y/N! Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" You turn around and find your other little sister, Sansa Stark.

"Well, I had to exhaust this one so." Sansa looks at Arya who was cuddling your neck still.

"Whoa. Arya never sleeps this early."

"Like I said. Exhausted. Are Brandon and Rickon here?"

"Yep! They should be getting back from Winterfell by now."

"What did they do there??"

"Father wanted to show them something. Are you staying tonight?"

"If you're willing to share your bed."

"ALWAYS!" You shush her and smile.

"I'll just be putting this one in her bed then I'll come down. Here." You give the bag full of food to Catelyn and smile. "Some of my favorites."

"I'll plate them up." You nod and begin your walk with Arya still sleeping while cuddling your neck.

"You're becoming heavier, Arya. I wonder if I should do some training just so I can carry you around."

"Y/N! You're back!" Brandon says then hugs you.

"Hey, little brother." You kiss his head and smile as he beams at you.

"SIS!" Rickon shouts then tackles you to no avail.

"Heya, baby bro." You pick him up and grin. "Did you grow??"

"I did! I'm defeating Arya soon!" You grin at him.

"Don't let her hear you!" You ruffle his hair then turn to Sansa. "Did you do your homework yet?"

"No? Will you help me later?" She gives you her puppy dog eyes and you groan at her. You admit that you're too weak to your siblings.

"Fine. But no talking about boys. I swear to God if I hear one more thing about-"

"But Ser Loras is just so dreamy." You look at her with a deadpan expression.

"Try me and I will sleep besides Arya." Sansa pouts.

"Fine. No boy talk." She grumbles. "Stingy."

"I'm gay. I'd rather marry another omega as long as she's a woman." Catelyn smiles as she sees you getting along with your siblings.

"Do not plant ideas in their head."

"Ma, Sansa is as straight as a ruler. These two don't even know what their second genders are." Catelyn rolls her eyes at you. "That reminds me, when's your test?" You look at Sansa as you place Rickon at his seat.

"This Monday! I'm so excited to confirm that I'm an Omega!"

"And if you're a beta?" You ask and Catelyn slaps your arm. "What? There's nothing wrong about being a beta! I wanted to be one before."

"You did?" Sansa asks and you nod. "Why?"

"More options." Catelyn hits your head and you laugh.

"Why? Does being an omega lessen your options?"

"Technically, I can't have another omega as my soulmate. Not that it matters."

"Oh yeah, dad said he sent you someone." You roll your eyes at that.

"He sent a file of someone. He wouldn't just let some stranger in my apartment."

"Who is it?? Can we know??" You groan at the excitement in Sansa's voice. There's nothing more that interests her than love talk.

"She's a Targaryen."

"The Dragon Family!" Rickon shouts and you ruffle his hair.

"Yup! Bran, do you know their motto?" Brandon hums as he gets some food.

"Yeah. Fire and Blood, right?"

"Yup! You all will get some ice cream. I brought some earlier." Catelyn glares at you. "What?"

"Cavities."

"I only visit once in a while, Ma. Just this once." Catelyn pinches your cheek. "Ow! Give! Give!"

"Just this once and don't ever do this again without saying anything to me."

"Yes, Ma! I got it! Ow!" Catelyn finally lets you go and you hold your cheek. You pout at her. "You didn't have to pinch that hard."

"You know how I feel about sweets." You sigh.

"I know. Sorry."

"Good thing the ice cream didn't give Rickon sugar rush."

"Yeah. It was a relief that Ma didn't pinch me."

"Those two boys really love you and adore you."

"They do." You look at Sansa and pat her hair. "I hope you become a beta, baby girl." Sansa scoffs at you.

"Wha- why!?" You smile sadly at her.

"So then you'll have more freedom." Sansa holds your hand. "Sadly. As an Omega, everything is controlled for you here in Westeros. Specially if you have a last name of a noble."

"Y/N." You squeeze her hand and grin.

"Hopefully, you and Arya get to decide your own futures. And your own partners." Sansa gets teary eyed at that. You let go of her hand then pat her hair again. "Time to get ready for bed. I'll just check on Arya for a second, okay?" Sansa nods at you and you close her door before covering your mouth with your hand.

Freedom. What a grand word. For you, it was thrown out the window when you got your test results.

Everyone says that Omegas have equal standings with Alphas. That the world is getting better.

"What a load of fucking bullshit." You mumble to yourself as you make your way to Arya's room.

You open the door and see that Arya is still fast asleep. You get to her bed and kiss her head.

"I hope you'll have more freedom than me, little one." You tuck her in and leave.

PS.

Jon is a Stark here and Catelyn knows he's Lyanna's son but no one knows who his father is. Let's just pretend for a second that he's not a Targaryen.

I actually was going to go the usual route for this aka Alpha Reader but decided against it. Omega Reader just works better for the angst inside my head.

#daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys targaryen #daenerys stormborn #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #omegaverse #omegaverse fanfic #omegaverse fic

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