#all i can hear is my thoughts but they are too loud to hear them

[babydollslibrary]

SNOW ON THE BEACH — LUKE HUGHES

luke hughes x fem!reader

published: February 8th, 2023

summary: in which shy, introverted y/n meets extroverted frat boy Luke and he takes a liking to her, even though everyone thinks they’re an odd match.

specific lyrics: “it’s like snow on the beach, weird but fuckin’ beautiful.”

notes: i really wanted frat boy Luke in order to really have them contrast each other, but i also didn’t wanna take away the hockey element or split up the UMich boys, so… Hockey House is a frat now.

GIF by 1-800-iluvhockey

the library is packed. i should’ve expected it, with it being so close to finals week and all, but it still disappointed me nonetheless.

this was my favorite place to escape and read when my obnoxious dorm-mate had her friends over. it was quiet and usually pretty empty. so i could usually sit and read for a few hours until i was sure none of Alex’s friends were still there. none of them knew how to use an inside voice, and with our dorm just being one big room, they constantly thought that meant i would want to join in on their conversations. which were mainly gossip about the hockey team. so, coming in and finding every space in the library full, ruined my plans. i don’t want to go back to my dorm and be subjected to them debating which UMich hockey player has the cutest smile, so i guess that leaves me with one option; find a seat.

i let loose a sigh and scan the room for who seems to be the quietest. i hate small talk. i find a table with only one person sat at it, a guy with one airpod in and a textbook laid out in front of him, and decide that’s the one. i walk over, fully planning on just motioning to ask if i can sit, but when i come to a stop in front of the table and he doesn’t even look up, i know i’ll have to speak up. i take a deep breath before i let out the quietest ‘excuse me’ known to man. the boy still doesn’t look up from the textbook, and i don’t blame him, he probably didn’t even hear me.

“excuse me.” i say slightly louder. this time the boy finally looks up, but i’m struck on what to say. suddenly, all the mentally rehearsed words have left my mind. this may be the cutest boy i have ever seen.

“can i help you?” his voice is soft. not judgmental or rude like what i would’ve expected from him after i came over and interrupted his studying just to end up staring at him. i shake myself out of my thoughts and give a light nod.

“do you mind if i sit here?” i motion towards a chair diagonal from his. “everywhere else is full.”

the boy nods.

“oh, yeah, go ahead.” i give him a small and grateful smile before depositing myself in the chair. pulling my book and a few highlighters out from my tote bag before hanging it up on the back of my chair. i open my book to where i left off, setting the bookmark on the table. but before i can start reading, the boy speaks up again.

“sorry to interrupt but, you’re reading that for a class?” he asks. for some reason, i take a look at the front cover of my romance novel before talking.

“oh. no. i’m reading this for fun.” i tell him. my voice is quite, my tone soft.

“oh okay. i guess i just assumed you were here to study since everyone else is.” he lets out a breathy chuckle as he shrugs.

“no.” i shake my head before explaining- “i’m here to get away from my dorm-mate and her friends. they’re too loud for me to focus and they keep trying to get me to weigh in on their debates.”

“what are they debating?” he asks.

“well, when i left it was which Wolverines hockey player has the cutest smile.” i tell him, rolling my eyes.

“and who did you say?” he seems curious, and almost amused.

“no one.” i shrug. “i don’t know what any of them look like.”

he lets out a quiet laugh.

“well you know what one of them looks like now.” he says. my brows form a v and i’m about to ask him to clarify but then it hits me. oh. he’s a hockey player.

“oh.” is my awkward response.

“i’m Luke Hughes.” he smiles at me. well, i have my answer for the next debate now.

“i’m y/n.” i tell him. “nice to meet you.”

“you too.” he finally looks back down at his textbook, and i’m relieved to be free of any more small talk.

the next hour or so passes by silently, and i manage to finish the last 75 pages of my book without any interruptions. i close my book, and put my stuff back in my tote bag, at the same time that an alarm goes off on Luke’s phone. he turns it off and starts packing his stuff up as well. we stand simultaneously, and he sends me a quick amused expression. my steps to the exit are slow, and Luke falls in line with me, slowing his steps to match mine.

“my frat is having a party on Friday, you should come. collect some more data for the next debate.” he smirks, and i rack my brain for a nice way to say that i don’t do parties.

“i’m not really a party person.” i say.

“then what kind of person are you?” he asks. his eyes fall down my body before he looks back up to my face.

“um, the reading type, i guess? i don’t really like doing the whole people thing.” i confess. he nods in understanding.

“well, if you change your mind, come. and if you need to escape your dorm again, i’ll be here tomorrow, same time.” he winks before splitting off, walking the opposite direction as me.

my entire walk to my dorm, i rethink every word we shared, wondering if i sounded stupid. i mean, i would assume not because he didn’t seem put off by me, but who knows, maybe he’s just a good actor. he was really cute though, gosh i hope i didn’t unknowingly embarrass myself.

opening the door to my dorm, i’m disappointed to see that Alex and her friends are still here. they don’t usually hang out this long on a wednesday evening. and i have to hold back an eye roll when i realize that it doesn’t sound they’ve changed their topic of conversation at all since i’ve left. logically, i’m sure it has and they just circled back onto this topic, but i honestly wouldn’t be surprised if it was all they were talking about the past couple hours.

“y/n! you didn’t answer before you left, so please, settle this for us!” one of them, Jess, says as she spots me. “which UMich hockey player has the best smile? i say Ethan Edwards, Alex says Rutger McGroarty, and Becca says Mark Estapa!”

my mind wanders back to the boy i was conversing with not too long ago and before i can think twice, i blurt out- “Luke Hughes.”

“you think so?” Becca asks “i feel like he rarely ever smiles. it’s so hard to get one out of him.”

“really?” i ask. they must be exaggerating, he smiled at me earlier. although, i think he was just being friendly.

“yeah! i have a class with him this semester and i swear he frowned at me when i tried to introduce myself. i mean, he’s still hot, but still.” Becca replies, shrugging.

“oh.” i say. what does that mean? if he wasn’t friendly to her when they met, then why would he smile and be friendly with me?

“oooh y/n is blushing! i think she likes him!” Alex coos.

“i don’t like him.” i turn away, letting my hair fall in front of me to hide my apparently pink cheeks. i set my tote bag on my desk chair and slip my shoes off before taking a seat on my bed.

“i think she does!” Jess joins in on the teasing, and now i’m regretting having left the solitude of the library. “a bit of an odd match, you two.”

i’m not sure whether i should be offended by her statement or not, but for some reason i am. i don’t plan on dating him, but hearing her say we wouldn’t match together makes me feel insulted.

“what is that supposed to mean?” i retort.

“she didn’t mean anything by it.” Alex defends her friend. “she’s just saying, Luke is an extrovert, he likes to party and let loose, he has a lot of friends. and you’re… the opposite. i don’t think i’ve seen you go out once in the entire school year that we’ve shared a room. you keep to yourself. like, we’ve been trying to include you so that you’re not lonely, but you always say you’re going to the library. you and Luke just don’t seem like you’d fit together.”

“i didn’t ask you to include me. i like being alone. people are draining.” i say. i don’t like their pity on me. it’s not like i don’t have friends. i do. we’re just all introverted and our hangouts between classes is enough social interaction for us. we don’t care for going out partying on weekends or anything. if we do want to hang out on the weekend, we’ll usually do a movie night at Casey and Ellie’s apartment. but the way Alex explains it makes my life sound pitiful, and it makes me defensive, so before i can stop myself, i speak again. “and for your information, i’m going to a party on friday.”

the trio gasps, as though this information is scandalous.

“oh my god, are you going the party at Hockey House?” Becca asks. ‘hockey house’, the nickname for the frat house in which most of the UMich hockey players live. the frat is comprised solely of hockey players, so i guess the nickname makes sense. “for Luke?”

“yes, i’m going to the party. but no, not for Luke.” i tell them. why did i say i was going to that party? i hate parties. i even already told Luke so.

**

friday evening has come, and i can’t even back out of going to the party because Alex, Becca, and Jess have decided we should carpool together. so now i’m stuck in this commitment.

when Becca and Jess arrive to pick Alex and i up, i become aware that i’m the only one not wearing a dress or skirt of some kind. instead i’m dressed casual, in jeans and a tank top, paired with an oversized cardigan to keep me protected from the evening breeze. but it’s too late to change now.

arriving to the party is a hassle on its own, with the girls fussing over whether they look good enough to bag a hockey player, and having a hard time finding a parking spot. and when we finally walk into the party, i immediately want to leave. music is blasting from multiple speakers, everyone is holding a stereotypical red solo cup, and the house is packed. i’m quickly forgotten about by the other girls, them walking off to get drinks and stop to have conversations with a few of the hockey guys. i still don’t actually know any of the players names, besides Luke.

i scan the room, but i’m not entirely sure what i’m looking for. or who. all my friends are probably laying in bed right now. before i can even figure out who i’m looking for, i hear my name being called.

“y/n!” i turn my head towards the voice and find a guy from my ‘intro to business’ class coming towards me. i think his name is Dylan, but it seems like everyone just calls him Duke. “never seen you at a party before!”

“yeah, it’s not usually my scene.” i tell him with an awkward smile.

“i figured. you give me more of the ‘reading in my room’ vibes.” he laughs.

“am i that obvious?” i joke. he laughs again and nods.

“you look pretty out of place. let me introduce you to some of my friends.” he takes ahold of my wrist and pulls me towards a group of guys in the kitchen. i’m immediately uncomfortable, they all seem intimidating, and i’m not great around boys. we get closer to the group and Duke begins to introduce me. “guys, this is-”

“y/n! you came!” i look over to see Luke, and i can’t help the smile that breaks out on my face when i see his wide grin. he slings an arm around my shoulders, and Duke’s jaw drops.

“THIS is the y/n you’ve been talking about? the one from the library?” Duke asks. i can feel my face heating up. he’s been talking about me? i hope he’s not saying anything bad about me.

“yup. this is my future girlfriend.” Luke exclaims, and i choke on my own spit.

what?! we barely know anything about each other! all i know is his name is Luke, he has the prettiest smile i’ve ever seen, and he plays hockey. pretty sure all he knows about me is my name and that i have an annoying roommate.

“hm. an odd match.” Duke ponders. there’s that phrase again! but now seeing Luke in his natural habitat, partying and joking with friends, and even just him being so confident, i can’t help but wonder if Duke and the girls are right. Luke and i do seem to contrast each other.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” Luke asks defensively.

“hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing!” Duke rebuts. “you guys are just kinda… opposites of each other.”

“opposites attract.” Luke shrugs. i’m kind of confused. does my opinion matter? Luke seems pretty confident that i like him back.

“uh, Luke.” i speak up. he looks down at me where i’m still tucked into his side. “we don’t really know anything about each other.”

“when you know, you know.” he shrugs.

**5 YEARS LATER**

i stare up at my now husband from my seat beside him with watery eyes and a soft smile.

“and i told her, ‘when you know, you know.’” he looks back down at me from his standing position. “and i knew. from the first time we met, i knew this would be the girl i spend the rest of my life with.”

everyone in the reception hall claps as Luke ends his speech. he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in my ear.

“you got this, baby.” his hand clasps my shaky one and gives it a quick tight squeeze. i take one big deep breath and stand up, i hate public speaking, but i wrote my speech and i will read it.

“i didn’t know. well, at least not as quick as Luke.” a few people chuckle at that. “but what i do know, is that i went to my first party for him. which spoke volumes for me. and i thought he had the most amazing smile to ever exist.”

i look down at Luke and see the grin spread across his face.

“look, there it is!” i point to him as i look back at the reception hall full of our friends and family and everyone laughs. “i still think it’s the best smile, but i might be biased now. when we started dating, we had people calling us an odd match, i even had a friend compare us to ‘snow on the beach.’ she said we were ‘weird but beautiful.’”

“i used to think it was an insult, but now i look back and realize, our friends were right, we are an odd match.” i look back at Luke and now it’s my turn to smile. he takes ahold of my hand, squeezing it as a few tears roll down my cheeks. i finish my speech while maintaining eye contact with him. “but i like our differences, we balance each other out, and i can’t imagine what my life would be like if i hadn’t liked your confidence so much that night. i’m so grateful that i get to spend the rest of my life calling myself your wife.”

Luke stands, winding his arms around my waist and pulling me in for a sweet, slow kiss. i can hear everyone clapping, and someone lets out a loud “WOOO!”

i can distinctly tell that was Jack, and it makes me interrupt the kiss with a giggle. Luke just takes that chance to pull back and pepper my face in pecks. blood rushes to my face at the thought of our family and friends watching him do this, but he doesn’t care. his confidence is a constant, no room for embarrassment.

yeah, maybe my friend was right; Luke and i are like snow on the beach. at first glance, we’re an unlikely duo, different in a lot of ways, but we make a great couple and our love is beautiful.

[isaisliterallyhim]

Bro bro hear me out imagine SAE yeahh stay with me with fem reader who gets a back tattoo or just lower back tattoo STAY WITH ME STAY WITH ME! and sae gives her the most toe curling back arching jaw dropping back shots 😇

HELP ME?? i see it anon hehe..!

"i thought i was a fool for no one"

ft. itoshi sae . ooc! sae? . more affectionate! sae ig . sae lwk downbad . fem! reader . reader is super hott (which is what u r duhh) . smut . piv sex . doggy style . unreliable narrator

wc: 0.7k

imagine how absolutely aroused sae got when he saw his gorgeous partner with a lower back tattoo... he couldn't keep his hands to himself could he?

the itoshi's attention went immediately to the door clicking, indicating you've came home. the clock ticked 10 p.m. you were wearing one of his collar shirts that was a lil' too big for you... and jean shorts that hugged your curves.

the once dull slim teal eyes had suddenly widened a little, a hint of brightness could be seen. "welcome home, cariño." he greeted. you smiled at him as you took off your shoes.

"hi, sae!" you giggled, walking to your shared bedroom. sae trailed behind you like a lost dog (err... not very much like you sae. >_>) "soo," you began, setting your bag onto the dresser. "i got a tattoo..!" you beamed.

sae was at loss of words. "tattoo? what typ-" my guy wasn't even able to finish, you were stripping yourself already into your undergarments. he was shocked. oooh, fuck that back tattoo is gonna get him... yea hes hard. :3

"s-sae, baby- s-slow down..!" you babbled into the pillow. your warm, tight hole was clenching onto his girthy cock. his pre and your arousal set as lube, which is why he slipped it in so easily LOL.

drool was pooling on the satin sheets. you were wrinkling it with how hard you were gripping the sheets. were you ruining the expensive sheets? yeah, potentially. but, the sex was so good sae nor you bothered to mind.

"y-youre buried in the pillow, yet youre so..oh! loud!" he grunted out. beads of sweat forming on his forehead. there were tears threatening to wet those long ass underlashes of his... DOES PUSSY REALLY FEEL THIS GOOD?!

sae felt like a virgin again. he gripped your hips so hard you swore there would be bruises the next day :( he rutted his hips into the soft flesh of your ass, a plapping sound could be heard.

he slowed down his pace a little as he began tracing his fingers along your tattoo. his calloused fingers really did something to your sensitive skin... there was a burning feeling not only on your lower back but in your core as well.

sae is a dirty dirty man. never let his blunt and cold demeanor get to you. he has such a soft fucking spot for you! especially when he's fucking you doggystyle! he can see your ass (which he adores so dearly, he is an ass guy anyways LOL like literally an ass but he also loves ass) being bruised as his hips smash into them or when he spanks you for not abiding to what he says! :3

but now with you having a trampstamp he couldn't help but go vicious. "[name], i hate you so much.." sae moaned out. before you could absolutely roast his ahh, he stop your train of thought. "i really thought i was a fool for no one.. but mmmh.. i'm a fool for you.." he continued.

COULD THIS MAN GET ANYMORE ATTRACTIVE.?! "oh fuck you sa-" as you were about to finish your sentence, the prodigy made you finish coming close to your orgasm LMFAO. you let out a high-pitched, louder squeal. he quite literally did fuck you. :3

you repeated the man's name almost religiously as you reached your climax. fucking you felt like diamorphine shot straight into his veins. he felt his high coming, shit. he might cum as well with how sweet your pants and moans are sounding.

like diamorphine, sae felt all his temporary pain, relieved. he knew he was going to finish. he pulled out and finished on your back n tattoo <3 coating your skin with his sticky warm, creamy semen!

it was a little translucent of a white. he spread his semen with his fingers, tracing it along your tattoo. you flinched at his touch. sae then traced his fingers against your sensitive, soaked cunt. collecting both his and your cum.

his fingers drew along your jawline before he popped his digits into your mouth, having you suck on it. "taste how well our orgasms mix together?" sae muttered.

you were a sobbing, whimpering mess. the itoshi was just in absolute awe.. he shifted himself to kiss his favourite part of you — your ass which was now hella bruised...(and cheeks ig i didnt wna include CHEEKS cus it makes me a giggle..)

sae itoshi sighed contently. you were still recovering. "eres preciosa, cariño." he praised. "i love your tattoo." actions spoke louder than words, your sounds were definitely louder than his actions LOL.

— ©isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags! : @twijaxx ♡

a/n: woahh 3 posts in a week?!?! ugh not proofread at all cus this was j me writing bc i had a rush of motivation im too lazy to yk anyways once again sorry for the bum plot and english ehh i tried im living off of a few hours of sleep n monster rn pls </3 tattoos r so hot?! and i know all of ygs reading could pull it off hehe... i love sae hehehe i saw him and was like "oh zooweemama.." nd then rin was on screen and i lowkey creamed my pants.. >< either way i heart both itoshis also did u catch the few lyric references? ehehe

[prlssprfctn]

"Who Is Afraid of Little Old Me?" is so Jason Todd core, and you are READY for this conversation.

'The scandal was contained

The bullet had just grazed

At all costs, keep your good name

You don't get to tell me you feel bad'

You tell me it is not about that one time Batman had finally faced Red Hood, with Joker being between them - as a reminder and a choice - ended up throwing a batarang in his neck (while Jason barely hurt him) and never told anyone else about this?

Is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke

Then we could all just laugh until I cry

And you tell me this is not about Jason's death? About his last minutes with Joker, about how they forever imprinted in the core of his memory, to the point that sometimes he laughs at them instinctively, until the realization doesn't kick in?

So I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street

Crash the party like a record scratch as I scream

"Who's afraid of little old me?"

I was tame, I was gentle till the circus life made me mean

"Don't you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth"

Who's afraid of little old me?

Well, you should be

Is it not Red Hood who is back again, trying to return to Manor to remind others what happened to him?

So tell me everything is not about me

But what if it is?

Then say they didn't do it to hurt me

But what if they did?

… I wanna snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me

You wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me

Had Bruce and Dick ever wanted to hurt Jason, both in the past and in the present? No. Did it still happen? Is Jason still the one to live with these memories, unable to explain how it makes him feel? Yes.

So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs

I'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all said?

That I'll sue you if you step on my lawn

That I'm fearsome and I'm wretched and I'm wrong

And if I say it is about Jason and all the kids that came after him that doesn't fully know who he is, but heard stories of Red Hood and violent Robin? They don't know a little boy who thought Robin gave him magic, the boy that died a hero — but they know Red Hood. And they heard of what a doomed, angry Robin he used to be.

And you hurt me

And you taught me

… You caged me and then you called me crazy

I am what I am 'cause you trained me

What is it if not Jason's POV towards Bruce? He is the crazy one now, a killer, a wrong one (not to mention these comics, where they actually threaten to send him to Arkham or Blackgate), but he is his father. His mentor. Still.

And some additional parts I want to add, because I think that they speak volumes too:

- "But my bare hands paved their paths, you don't get to tell me about sad"? I can't fully explain to you what I mean by putting this quote, but it is about Jason, crawling out from his grave (literally) and it is about everyone who stepped on the Robin path after. It is about his family making his death and grief about themselves at some point, leaving him nothing;

- "If you wanted me dead, you should've just said. Nothing makes me feel more alive" just one sentence — it is Jason about the batarang incident;

- A little detail, but I heard a lot of people complaining after the song's release that "Who is afraid of little old me?!" parts were at first loud, and they expected it to get to the full scream, but only ever got it becoming weaker, almost a whisper-like. And it is so Jason, too. Because he returns to scream, to yell, and he does at first. Until his anger washes out under disappointment and realization that he will never be chosen in a way he chooses people. And he doesn't scream anymore. Just whispers.

[slxtarchive]

❛❛𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞?❜❜ — 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐞𝐦’ 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰

ᥫ᭡ … chris was never afraid to show you affection in public. no matter what anyone thought he loved being up close and personal with you. he needed to be touching you at all times. his brothers teased him about it but he didn’t care.

you and him were at a party hosted by one of la’s known influencers. you had arrived and been with each other the whole time. he would talk with some friends and mutual but he still stayed right by your side refusing to leave you.

one of your favorite songs came on while you two were just enjoying each other company. “oh shit this is the song that played on our first date remember? when we were driving on sunset? you were rapping the lyrics very sexily.” you tugged on his shirt.

he looked down at you nodding. “oh yeah… i remember tjay.” he agreed with a big smile resting on his face. “c’mon sing it with me.” he said setting his cup on a nearby table.

the dance floor was already a bit crowded but not too bad to where you both couldn’t move freely. he grabbed a hold of your hips nodding his head to the song as more people joined the dance floor.

he smiled looking at you as he said the lyrics. “who is he?” he mouthed, shrugging. “motherfucker i’m him.” you laughed at him nodding to the music as well.

the beat dropped and everyone was belting out the lyrics. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder pointing in the air as he rapped the lyrics along with the crowd. everyone in the room went wild as did you two.

he hugged you and sang with you, both of you just vibing. “whos gonna give you lovin’ the same as this?” he looked down at you practically serenading you. “a-game girl, girl i bring that shit.” his facial expressions on point.

his hands gripped yours turning you around and hugging you from the back as he belted out the lyrics. “he been real every since, i know you been tense. i know we ain’t had a conversation in a minute.” he then turned you back around grabbing your shoulders, then face, then waist bringing you closer to him. “but you know what they say, if it ain’t broken don’t fix it. its clearly not broken, it’s just so unfinished. i feel like my new bitch was just your apprentice and we just got into it, here comes the ending.” he rapped smiling down at you.

you wore a huge smile as you could barely hear his voice over the loud base and noise of the crowd — but he continued. “you said this shit would happen girl, that was your prediction.” he kissed your lips once. “said i’d never find no one like you and i shoulda listened.” and again. “who you fucking with now, is that any of my business?” and one last time. “whoever it is may not be finished.” he sung with his eyes closed theatrically.

“but—” he licked his bottom lip and began to sing the chorus again. “already got someone that’s what you tell em’ every time.”

he held onto your waist with one hand singing along with the crowd. his hand up in the air going along with the rhythm pointing out. then, a more relaxed part came in and he serenaded you once again. “i hope you still feel the same way. don’t say the same shit to me, you’ll never change. oh yeah.” he sang. “i said it once girl, you so fine! can we do it like old times?” he brought you closer inches away from you singing the rest of the verse. “ayy thinking shit like who’s out there fucking you? and who’s keepin’ you comfortable?”

the whole crowd hummed along to the music before singing out. “did i make you fall in love again or nah?” he smiled down at you. he sang along with the singer, how they hummed and harmonized.

they all waited until the beat dropped again. “i’m so different. nothin’ like them other—” they sang out, the volume increasing since everyone seemed to know this part cause of its popularity. chris looked down at you again, “you so different. nothin’ like them other bitches. nothin’ like them other bitches. nothin’ like them others bitches, true.” he kissed your lips softly before finishing the song.

everyone cheered and went along with the next song that played. you giggled at what just happened. “you’re so cute.” you shouted over the music.

he blushed looking away and shaking his head before looking back at you. “not as cute as you, baby.” he said grabbing your face and bringing your lips to his. it started of slow and continued increasing with passion.

you pulled away giggling as he tried to connect your lips again. “stoppp.” you cheekily squealed with a smile on your lips. “everyone’s gonna stare!”

he brought you back in hands on your waist. “don’t care.” he muttered against your lips before connecting them once more and stronger this time sliding his tongue in your mouth slowly. your back arched as he towered over you dominating your mouth.

you two made out for a good minute before pulling away. you felt hot and dizzy. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” he muttered against your lips pecking them one more time.

you gulped harshly, feeling yourself become a little needy. “wanna go home now.” you whispered hoarsely in his ear.

“fuck— me too.”

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[27spoons]

CRUSH | ACT TWO: RIBS

pairing: natalie scatorccio/reader

summary: You showed up to the "get-together" Natalie invited you to. It was, apparently, more than just a "get-together".

wc: 5350

warnings: reader drinks alcohol, mentions of drug usage, lowkey reader getting a little obsessive

a/n: i have angst in my pants!

ao3 / masterlist

PREVIOUS - NATALIE'S INTERLUDE ONE

NEXT - ACT TWO: IF YOU'RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW) [WIP]

You shouldn't be here.

You aren't sure how many times that thought has echoed inside your head since your mom dropped you off at your friend's house a few blocks away, and how many more times you've reiterated the same thought since you started walking toward the location of the party.

According to Google Maps (because Natalie sent the geographical coordinates to it, like a normal person would), it's on an empty lot in some abandoned industrial sector.

You can see and hear the party from a block away. Because… it is a party. It is not just a 'friendly get-together', or whatever Nat had said. It is a party. And you feel out of your depth by a long shot. Realistically, you could turn around and leave. It's not like anyone has seen you yet, and it's not like you even know anyone here besides Natalie.

…but then you would need to walk back to your friend's house. Call your mom. Ask her to come pick you up already. Explain why you…

Ugh.

You walk into the industrial lot, partygoers surrounding you on all sides, music blasting off of someone's phone that's hooked up to some dollar store Bluetooth speakers.

The entire place reeks of shitty beer, cigarette smoke, cotton candy vape, and weed.

Yep. This is a high school party. You're half expecting to find someone hooking up in a bush somewhere.

Someone probably is. You'd rather not think about that.

You hug the lot's edges, weaving through clusters of people you vaguely recognize from school. However, you swear you see more than a few people who graduated, which is kinda weird if you're being honest, but maybe that's just the 'high school party' experience.

As you continue to walk the lot, you feel more out of place than ever. The music is somehow too loud and cheap simultaneously, distorting with every bass drop. You’re clutching at your phone like a lifeline, scrolling mindlessly just to look busy.

And then you see her.

You aren't surprised to see her surrounded by people. Nat's leaning up against a support pillar, a cigarette pinched between her fingers, and a lazy grin on her face as she says something that makes her friends—faces you vaguely recognize—laugh.

When her gaze flashes over to you, you feel a brief flicker of hope that she's about to wave you over to her friends, introduce you, invite you into her circle…

Yet, all she does is give you a small nod of her head, a slight raise of her bottle, and before you can even think to wave back, she returns to the conversation she was having with her friends.

You aren't sure why her ignoring you hurts the way it does, but you feel a slight sting of pain in your chest all the same. Did she really just invite you just to ignore you? You try and tell yourself that you're just overthinking things—she’s probably just busy with her friends—but that nagging feeling doesn’t go away. 

You move yourself deeper into the lot, immersing yourself further into the party, hoping to avoid drawing attention to yourself by blending in with the crowds. A group of seniors—or maybe they've already graduated, it's hard to tell—pass by you, laughing loudly and overall being obnoxious, nearly drunkenly stumble into you. You sidestep them awkwardly, clutching your phone like you'd die without it as you attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

You find a busted folding table off to the side of the party, various different drinks, mixers, coolers, and cheap beers decorating its surface. You grab the least offensive-looking drink—a Pineapple Truly—and crack the can as you move to lean against a stack of wooden pallets, eyes searching the party for any sign of someone you know.

And, much to your unsurprise, you don't recognize anyone that you would actually know and would know you. The cool night air does little to ease the nerves twisting in your stomach, and you find yourself scanning the crowd for Natalie again. She’s nowhere to be seen.

Great.

The next time you manage to catch sight of Nat, she's walking right past you.

You're taking a sip of a (different) Pineapple Truly, trying to blend in and act like you aren't mentally freaking out. Leaning up against the pallets, you let your eyes scan the busy crowd. Occasionally, someone bumps into you or stumbles too close, and you shrink back further into the shadows.

Then, that person who stumbles too close ends up being Nat. Finally.

Natalie’s walking past you, her head turned to say something to someone trailing behind her. “Hey—” you start to call out, but she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t even look your way.

Oh.

You clear your throat and take a step back, hiding yourself further, and squeeze your can just tight enough to hear it crinkle under your grasp. It's not like you expected her just to drop everything and run over to you, but… something? Anything?

You sigh, down the rest of the drink in the can, and then toss it into a nearby trash bin. "Fuck me." You murmur to yourself as you cross your arms.

“Hey.” A voice pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up to see a girl with a sunlit warmth to her skin and dark, wavy hair with a soft smile. You vaguely recognize her—she plays on the soccer team. You're pretty sure she comes from money; if her outfit is any indication. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Oh, uh…” You fumble for a response, shifting awkwardly. “Natalie invited me.”

The girl raises an eyebrow, her smile turning a little knowing. “And you’re just… hanging out here? Not with her?” She glances in Nat's general direction before turning back to you, "What's up with that?"

You shrug, unsure how to answer that without sounding pathetic. “Good question. I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” A sigh escapes your lips, and you wish you had another can of… well… anything, honestly, to drown out the noise in your head.

She laughs lightly, her gaze flicking back toward the crowd. “Don’t read too much into it. Nat’s… well, Nat. If she invited you, she wanted you here. That’s just how she is.”

"Doesn't mean it feels good." You murmur, kicking at a discarded cigarette butt on the ground below. 

A sympathetic smile graces her face, "She's a complicated person," a beat, "try not to overthink it." The way she adds the last part makes it sound like she knows something you don't, and honestly? She probably does.

"Easier said than done." You sigh and glance out over the crowd with her, "I don't know, I guess I was just…" You stop yourself, realising that talking to a total stranger about this probably isn't the best idea. "Uh… any advice?" 

"On dealing with Natalie?" She laughs humourlessly, and you get the sense she wants to say something really sarcastic, but when she sees the look in your eyes, she pauses and sighs. "Just… take your time. She's complicated. And there really isn't advice I can give you. Just…take most things she says with a grain of salt." A beat, "You'll know what I mean when it happens."

"When it happens?" You shake your head, slightly confused, "What does that mean?"

The girl shrugs, opens her mouth, then turns her head in the direction of someone yelling, "Lottie!" And… she's off without giving you an answer to your question.

What the fuck did you get yourself into here?

Another twenty minutes of passive-aggressive house music and shitty alcoholic beverages pass before you finally see Nat again.

She's standing in front of a steel drum fire with some lanky goth kid and this dorky-looking guy with curly hair, staring into the fire with a blank expression on her face.

Which is slightly concerning, but that's an issue to deal with at a later date and time. 

But, hey. Might as well approach. You run off to one of the tables and quickly grab a beer for her and another Truly for yourself before darting back out in her direction, and—

God-fucking-dammit.

You swear this girl must be a fucking poltergeist or something with how she just fades in and out of crowds. It could be considered an art, really.

You grumble under your breath in frustration, downing both the beer (which you don't really enjoy the flavour of, but whatever) and the Truly within seconds of each other before tossing both containers into a nearby trashcan.

You aren't gonna sit around for the rest of the party, waiting to talk to the one person that you actually know here.

Grabbing one more Truly for the road, you decide to leave.

When you hear it, you're halfway across the lot, clusters of people slowly thinning out to nothing.

"PRINCESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" A loud, drunken voice slurs out, "WHERE YA' GOIN'?"

The exaggerated drawl and familiar pet name stop you in your tracks, jaw and fists immediately clenching in frustration. You really should just keep walking. Stand your ground. Prove you're angry! She spent the past two(ish) hours avoiding you! You're mad!

Which is exactly why you turn around to face the voice.

Against your better judgment, you glance over your shoulder, and there she is—Natalie Scatorccio, looking far too pleased with herself as she jogs over to you, the ends of her bleach-blonde hair catching the dim glow of the fire behind her.

"Home." You reply flatly, crossing your arms in a subconscious act of putting up walls. "Thought I'd leave since the person that invited me didn't seem to care too much if I was here or not." The words come out petulant, and you honestly sound like a middle school girl who just found out her friends had a sleepover and didn't invite her, but whatever.

"Wait, what?" Nat shakes her head, seemingly sobering up at the mention of you leaving. "Wh— s-seriously?" A nervous laugh escapes her as she steps forward, "But… wait… hold on." Another nervous laugh, "We haven't even talked—"

"You've barely even acknowledged me all night, Nat." You cut her off with a murmur, crossing your arms defensively, "Like… you walked right past me earlier! What am I supposed to assume?"

The blonde opens and closes her mouth for a moment, brain apparently lagging a little as she tries to come up with a response, "I… I was just…" She runs a hand over her face, "Fuck." When her hand drops, you see exactly why her response time is so slow. It's not that you know what she's taken, but based on the way her pupils are dilated and how spaced out she seems, it's glaringly apparent she's done more than just drink while she's been here.

"Princess." She sighs, "Look. I wasn't… I wasn't doing it on purpose, okay? I've just…" A groan, "I've been busy all night, is all."

"Seriously?" You murmur back, "That's it? That's the best you can come up with? That you were busy?"

"Well—!" She throws her hands in the air in frustration, although she looks more upset at herself than you. "Whatever. Look… just… whatever. I was leaving, anyway. I'll come along with you."

"No." You say, shaking your head, "I don't need to babysit you on my walk back."

"Babysit?" Nat scoffs, "I'm fucking capable of taking care of myself."

"Are you?" You don't have much experience with drugs, but you get the gist of what it means to be under the influence. "Because it took you a solid ten seconds to figure out a response to me calling out the way you acted tonight."

She can't dispute that, it seems. 

You huff and turn around, "Whatever, Natalie."

"No, w-wait, hey—!" The sound of someone stumbling over their own feet from behind you, "I… look…" She falls into step beside you, "Come on. Let me make it up to you." Her words are slightly slurred, and her gait growing more unsteady with each step.

"No." You reply flatly, still walking away as if you were a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"Dude." Nat groans, continuing to walk beside you. "Please? I don't… fuck. I feel bad. Please."

Despite yourself, you slow down slightly. "And what exactly would I be doing with you?"

Nat lights up at that, "Uh. Right. Okay. So. I was thinking… I could… just… walk you home? Or something? I don't… I don't know where you live or anything, but I'm assuming it's far from here? And, uh, I could walk you back?"

You shake your head, "Don't you live in the trailer park? That's a pretty long walk from my place. I don't want to—"

The blonde waves her hands frantically and cuts you off, "No! No! Seriously. It's fine. I want to walk with you. I don't care if I have to take a two-hour detour, okay? I wanna walk you home." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the same switchblade you saw her with the day you two went on the convenience store run and shoots you a small grin, "I can be your bodyguard for the night?"

You sigh, uncrossing your arms. "Am I going to regret this?" A dumb, stupid grin consumes Nat's face. "Nope!" She pops the 'p' excitedly, " You will not—" She trips over her own feet, nearly faceplants, catches herself on a streetlamp, stumbles back into a trash can, and then drops her knife as she almost falls into said trash can.

You stop and turn around, staring at her unblinking like you can't believe that just happened. And you can't. Talk about comedic timing.

"You have to be fucking with me." You murmur as you look down at Nat, lying there in a Family Guy Death Pose. "We haven't even begun, and you've already—"

"Getting up!" She murmurs, scrambling to put her hands on the trashcan to boost herself to a standing position. "Up! I'm up!" She brushes her pants off and looks around frantically for her knife, "Did you, uh, see where—"

You nod at where it's lying in the grass next to the sidewalk, "I'd also see if you can find your brain cells while you're down there." The words come out in a quiet mumble under your breath, "Maybe your… soberness while you're at it."

Nat waves her hand dismissively at the added comments, "Yeah, yeah. Get it out now, Princess." She grumbles as she slips the knife into her waistband, "Now, come on." She hops back up to full height (which, to be fair, wasn't much taller), "I've got a princess to escort home."

You wish you could fight the smile that appears on your face at her words, as cheesy as they are. "You're so dumb." You murmur out, but you swear she can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. "I better not have to carry you."

The girl—seemingly in a much better mood—shakes her head. "Nah. Promise I won't put you through that. At least…" She leans in slightly, "Well, unless you want to carry me?"

You shove her shoulder to push her back from your proximity, "Fuck off. I don't want to carry your drunk ass home."

"Drunk?" She laughs, stumbling a bit from your shove, "I've only had two beers, thank you very much."

Based on your narrowed, suspicious glance, she knows you think that's a lie. "I'm serious. Two beers. Just two."

"Fine." You roll your eyes as the two of you walk side-by-side, Nat seemingly instinctively standing on the side closest to the street, "But you obviously did something else."

An undignified, incredulous snort leaves her, "What makes you so sure of that? You even been around a party with drugs?" A beat, "Oh, right. You've barely partied at all."

Although the words are teasing, they also hurt slightly for reasons you can't properly name. A lack of the assumed 'high school experience,' maybe? Either way, there's a small stinging in your chest you choose to ignore for the time being. "Your pupils are wide enough that you can barely see the green in your eyes, for starters." You huff, "It took you, like, ten seconds to come up with a response earlier. You were tripping and stumbling all over—" You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a frustrated exhale, slowing down slightly. "I know I'm not streetsmart, like you. But I'm not completely useless. I know what it looks like when someone is high, Nat."

Nat sighs and slows down with you, pushing a hand through her hair. "It's not like… I took something…" She sighs again, "It was just a party drug. Just some special K."

"Special… K?" You say, confused. "Like… the cereal?"

Nat has to stop herself from face-palming, "The… cereal? Really? No, obviously, it's not the cereal, dumbass." She rolls her eyes, but a grin twitches on her lips at the teasing comment, "Fucking… K." A beat, and when you still don't understand, she swallows and glances around for a moment before mumbling out a "ketamine."

"Ketamine?!" You stop walking, turning to face her, "What?! A fucking horse tranquillizer—!"

She clamps her hand over your mouth, "Jesus Christ! Did you want the entire fucking neighbourhood to hear?!" She glances around properly this time, checking to ensure no one overheard your little outburst, "Yes! Okay? But, like, the dose you take at parties is hardly the same as the dose that gets used to fucking… K.O horses! It's not the first time I've done it, alright? It probably won't be the last! But I'm fine! You don't need to fucking act like I just confessed I was shooting up or some shit!"

"Have you?!" You mumble against her palm, to which she starts shaking her head rapidly.

"No. I've done a lot of shit to my body, but everything's been through the mouth or nose, alright?" A beat, and when she's sure you won't start screaming again, she lowers her hand. "'s not like I do it by myself, alright? It's only ever at parties with friends. People I trust to buy from." And, for added measure, "Don't need you worrying about me. Alright, Princess? I'm…" She hesitates, choosing a word to fit the situation, "Careful. Okay? I'm careful."

"You say that, but you never really know—"

"I don't need your ass getting all over me about this, okay?!" Nat snaps, cutting you off. "Say whatever drug bullshit PSA you need to, but I'm not gonna fucking stop using it when I need—uh, want to, alright?!"

You almost open your mouth to respond to that, snap back at her and raise your voice, but by some grace of God, you don't. 

Pinching the bridge of your nose and taking a step back, "Fine." You sigh, "Whatever, Nat. Do your…" You gesture at nothing, "Drugs. Do your fucking drugs."

"Oh, get off it." Nat scoffs, "Acting that you're soooooo much better than me because you're all straight cut and innocent." 

The assumption and the anger in her tone cause you to step back, swallowing down a lump of… something in your throat. "You know I wasn't even thinking that, Nat." You murmur, hurt lacing the words. "I'm just—"

"I don't need you to be worried about me. I don't fucking need—"

"I get it, Nat!" You cut her off, "You don't need anyone worrying about you. Or caring about you. Or even being friends with you. I get it. But I can't help that I care about people, okay?! You just happen to be a person!"

Nat opens and closes her mouth uselessly a few times, trying to formulate some sort of response to your comment but failing to come up with one that wouldn't just be her repeating what was already said. 

Eventually, "Didn't ask you to care." The blonde grumbles, crossing her arms pettishly. But… she doesn't seem to have a proper rebuttal to your claim, letting the two of you fester in the uncomfortable silence that's accumulated. 

A few moments pass in that awkward tension before Nat scuffs her combat boots on the pavement below, "Look, Princess, I…" She uncrosses her arms and runs a hand through her hair, refusing to meet your eyes. "Look. I appreciate the concern, yeah? I just… I don't need or want it, okay?" Then, under her breath, "Hardly worth caring about like that, anyway."

"Nat, c'mon…" You murmur back, taking a careful step toward her, "I…" But the way she looks genuinely uncomfortable at the idea of someone worrying about her makes you hesitate. 

You haven't known her all too long, but you get the idea she's never had anyone look after her. You may not get it, and you'll never be able to understand what that was like properly, but you can't help the way your heart aches at the thought.

Maybe the walls run higher and deeper than you initially thought they would.

"C'mon." You murmur, nodding off in the direction of your house, "I was promised armed protection on my walk home, wasn't I?"

Nat looks back up at you, and a small, barely perceptible smile makes its way onto her face, "Yeah, uh, yeah. I did. You were." 

"Then let's go. Don't have all night." With that, you turn off to start walking and hoping she'll follow.

She does. 

It's like Nat said. If they want to follow you, they will.

"So, uh, where do you live?" Nat tries after a few minutes of you two walking in silence, "You said it was away from the trailer park, and we're heading east, so… Willow's Court?"

"Oh, uh," You blink a few times in shock, "No, but it's right next to it. Uh, Woodsmere Crescent?"

Nat nods a few times, then realises it probably sounds weird that she just… knows the names of all the neighbourhoods on the east side of town, "Yeah, uh, Shauna lives in Willow's Court. So… you just sorta learn the general area."

That… makes sense, you suppose. Either way, you decide not to push that matter further, "You… hang out with her a lot, then?"

Her nose scrunches in response to that question, "Not really. Just end up going by if I get a ride home from parties. Occasionally, we go over there for 'team-bonding exercises'—or whatever Jackie decides to call them that day—but I don't really spend a lot of time with Shauna. She seems okay, or whatever." Nat shrugs, stuffing her hands in the pocket of her leather jacket as she walks alongside you, feet stable on the solid ground. "Only really talk to Lottie and Van."

You blink at the name. Lottie. That was the girl that you talked to earlier—the one that told you not to overthink your interactions with Nat. You try not to let the slight surprise show on your face as you probe for more information, "You close with them, then? Lottie and Van?"

She briefly considers that before giving you a slight nod, "Yeah. Known Van my whole life. We joined the soccer team together back in middle school. Just ended up sticking with it."

"Hey, obviously, it worked out!" You nudge her with your elbow, "Starting Varsity. Gotta be in the sights of some scouts for colleges, right?"

An uncomfortable frown appears on Nat's face at the mention of 'college,' "Yeah, uh, I dunno. Think I accepted a while ago that my chance to get out of this shithole has passed."

That makes you frown back, "What do you mean?"

The blonde runs one of her hands through her hair, hesitating for a long moment with her reply. "It's…" A sigh, "Don't worry about it, yeah?"

You frown, and really want to find out what the fuck she means by that, but you can tell from the look on her face that pushing the topic would only make her mad. Maybe one day. Silence festers in the air between the two of you for a handful of blocks, and you more than regret bringing up the future. You suppose it makes sense. She probably lives on an 'if I survive this year' philosophy, never entirely thinking about the long-term consequences of her actions. 

Eventually, Nat decides she can't take the awkward silence and again breaks it, "You gotta be smart though, right? You got colleges knocking on your doors? Maybe for your art?"

"My… art?" You glance at her, eyes widened. "It's… it's hardly good enough for college-level arts programs. Just something I do for fun." Nat immediately shakes her head, "No… no, I've seen your work. It's good, dude. Like that's the stuff that belongs in art magazines or whatever. And you can't say it's just for fun when you take art classes."

Your face heats immediately at the compliment, and you find yourself stuttering over a meek 'thanks…' having not expected such high praise, especially from Natalie Scatorccio of all people.

This girl is… confusing. You've already determined she's got walls higher than China, but you've started to see the cracks forming in them. There are small, barely visible cracks, but some fractures in the walls nonetheless. There's that old adage about 'one step forward, two steps back,' but… you think you're making some progress. Slowly chipping away at the defenses she's built over time. Maybe you could—

"I think you could get out of this town." Nat murmurs, breaking the quiet (and your train of thought). "You got the brains and the talent. You could do it." Her words are surprisingly genuine, and you think she shocked herself at the admission, based on the way her eyes quickly dart to and from you. 

"Thanks, uh, Nat." You murmur back, equally as flustered as she is. "Don't get a lot of compliments."

It's like a switch flips in her head at the follow-up comment and her entire demeanour changes. Nat walks vaguely closer to you as the pair of you travel down the sidewalk. "Don't get a lot of compliments?" She clicks her tongue, "Princess, who has been depriving you of that? If anyone deserves praise, it's gotta be you." A lop-sided grin rests easily on her face, a far cry from the girl who was just flustered while complementing your art.

"Uh." You swallow nervously, "Uh. Yeah, uh, thanks." 

Natalie drops a low laugh at your fumbled reply, the sound causing an unexpected shiver to rake down your spine. "Anytime, Princess." A beat, "You know, I've got more where that came from. Started with your art and brains, let's move to…" She hums in mock thought, eyes tracing your form in a way that makes you feel something you aren't used to, "Your eyes." The blonde grins, and you both know that you were expecting her to say something far dirtier. "I like them. Like the colour."

It's a flat compliment; you know it as well as she does. "Thanks. You can thank my dad for the colour."

"Mm, got it from your dad, huh? What you get from your mom?" She leans in a little closer, "Anything specific?"

"Uh—" You fluster yourself further, "Uh… my, uh, hair colour?"

Her smile falters slightly at your response—or lack thereof—but she quickly recovers, "It's a nice colour. Rich. Something I could tangle my fingers in."

You almost trip over your own feet when she leans in a little closer to your proximity, "Oh, uh!" You catch yourself on the fence beside you, trying to play it off like you tripped over a rock. "Uh, wow, uh, t-thank you?" A nervous laugh escapes your lips, "I, uh, wash it regularly?"

Nat rolls her eyes at your continued failure to return her flirtations, even by the smallest amount but keeps pushing regardless. "What's your shampoo smell like?" She leans into your personal space, your breath catching at the sudden proximity. "Mm." You can hear her inhale, your heart caught in your throat, "I like it. Very… you."

You start walking a little faster down the sidewalk, mumbling out something you hope is similar to a sound of appreciation at the comment, face burning something fierce. 

"Princess." Nat drawls with a low chuckle, "Don't act all shy on me now. What happened to the lady who was yellin' at me for 'ignoring' her, huh?" Another chuckle follows her words, and she takes some hurried steps to catch up with you. "Not ignoring you now, am I?"

"No, you aren't, uh, ignoring me anymore. That's, uh, for sure." You nervously rub at your arm, feeling increasingly flustered as the conversation continues. "And I, uh, appreciate you walking me home?"

A frustrated exhale escapes Nat, and she pulls back with a huff, murmuring something under her breath that you can't quite make out.

Admittedly, you feel a little bad that you don't—can't—return her flirting. But she stops her flirting at your apparent reluctance and leans away from you, hands back in her pockets. "Yeah, anytime." She grumbles out, causing you to sink further into yourself at the upset that laces her tone. 

The following five minutes are spent in relative silence, the atmosphere far too uncomfortable for your liking.

You're almost relieved when your house comes into view, giving you an excuse to break the tension in the air. You point at your home, a simple brown duplex nestled beside houses that all look exactly the same. It's the type of house that lower-middle-class families would reside in.

"That's me." As you continue approaching the house, fishing the house keys out of your pocket, you say, "I, uh, I really appreciate you walking me home, Nat." Even if it got really awkward and uncomfortable halfway through, "You didn't have to. Especially this time of night."

Nat waves her hand dismissively, stopping at the edge of your driveway. "Don't mention it. Can't let a pretty girl walk alone at this time of night, yeah?" She shoots you a toothy grin, "Always need protection."

You roll your eyes at the comment and shove playfully at her shoulder, "Whatever, Burnout. Just know I appreciate it."

She gives you a grin and a nod, standing there with her hands in her pockets, staring at you like she's expecting something. "Anytime. And, for the record, I provide other services than just security." Nat leans in, a faint twitch of her eyes as she moves further into your vicinity.

With a strained, nervous laugh, you take a step back and hold up your house key, "We will have to… talk about that another time! Gotta… gotta get inside! Parents, curfew, all that fun stuff. Haha! Thanks again!"

You turn around and briskly walk up the driveway, and when you reach the door, you see Nat still standing there out of the corner of your eye. Hesitation seizes your form momentarily at her continued gaze, and for a moment, you almost debate—

Nat lets out a huff, turns, and walks off in a different direction. She fishes a pack of cigarettes from her pocket, grumbling something unintelligible.

Watching her walk off a moment longer, you feel regret starting to tug at the back of your head, so you quickly slide the key into the lock and open the door with a shaky breath, heart beating a little too quickly for your liking.

When you push into your house, the living room is dark, and your parents have already gone to bed. As you discard your coat and shoes by the door, you let that feeling of regret wash over you. Should you have said something? Invited her in? Said goodnight? Hugged her? Kissed her?

Fuck.

Relationships are complicated, and you two still barely know each other. You can't help that you want to know her. You want to see behind those fucking walls. You want to see through the cracks in her mask.

You think you want Natalie Scatorccio.

That isn't a surprise, not really, but the way your brain accepts the thought is.

Holy shit, you want Natalie Scatorccio.

Well. Isn't that an interesting development?

a/n: does anyone actually read the notes I leave? i could be plotting world domination or confessing to heinous crimes in here. anyways I regularly think about how natalie saw misty while she was tripping on lsd in the pilot and then misty ended up killing her. wild. bro had a fucking 25 year early premonition

[winchestersisterimaginessss]

Request: Hey okay so I have a request. I absolutely love your writing it always puts me in my feels I can’t I’m so obsessed so thank you for all that you do OKKK can I get a story where she has some ptsd from a recent hunt from being captured by a monster or something and she’s back home in the bunker and safe now but Sam and Dean start play wrestling as like brothers usually do and she just hears a bunch of banging or noise and it sends her into a panic and once she realizes it’s just Sam and Dean messing around she can’t calm down because of her ptsd and no matter how hard she tries she just can’t relax and stop shaking and crying. I feel like many writers just blow over it so simply when in reality it would take so much to coax someone out of this mental state and I’ve read all of your stories and I believe you capture it the way I always thought it should be. Thank you sooooo much I’m so excited for you to write this if you can🤭

A/N: this was such a good request and so interesting to write for me. Thank you so much for your kind words. I agree and I always try to capture all of the emotions because I feel like that would be reality. I hope this is what you were looking for. If not, just send in another request. Requests are always open :)))

Sam and Dean Winchester x sister!Reader

You were sitting in your room in the bunker, curled up under a blanket, staring at your phone without really looking at it. Your thoughts were everywhere, scattered like leaves in a windstorm. It was hard to focus. It was hard to feel safe. You couldn’t feel safe. Not after what just happened to you. Anxiety gnawed at you, as it often did these days, an ever present companion that no amount of distraction could push away.

Then you heard it—a loud bang, followed by the sound of furniture being knocked over. Shouting. Chaos.

Your blood went cold.

You froze for a moment, unsure if you were imagining it. But the loud crash followed by what sounded like frantic voices... That wasn't normal. You were sure of it. Your heart started racing, your pulse pounding in your ears.

No. No, no, no.

Your breath hitched in your throat, and before you could even think, you shot up from your bed. The air around you felt thin, as though you couldn’t get enough of it. The walls felt too tight, the floor too unstable beneath your feet.

They’re back.

The demons.

The memories came rushing back, so fast and vivid that they nearly knocked you off your feet. The night you’d been taken—the screams, the cold metal of the chains, the overwhelming darkness that swallowed you whole. You could still feel the pain of their hands on you, the torment, the terror that ran through you every time they moved in for the kill.

But they hadn't finished.

They were back.

They were here again.

A wave of nausea rolled through you as your body responded before your mind could catch up. You bolted from your room, your feet stumbling down the hallway, the sound of your breath too loud in your ears. You needed to get to Sam and Dean. You needed to help them. You needed to protect them. You couldn’t let them take any of you again.

No. Please, not again.

You needed to help them.

You had to get to Sam and Dean. You had to protect them.

You wouldn’t—couldn’t—let them take them.

No. You couldn’t lose them. You couldn’t let them go through what you went through.

Your legs carried you down the hall, the panic rising in your chest with every step, your vision blurring as your breath came in ragged gasps. You didn’t even think to stop. You couldn’t. Your brothers needed you. You had to get to them.

You reached the library, the door already slightly ajar. The noise was louder now—shouting, the sounds of rough movements, and what sounded like playful grunts.

But when you pushed the door open, your world tilted on its axis.

Sam and Dean were in the middle of the room, tangled up in some ridiculous wrestling match. Sam had Dean in a headlock, both of them laughing. Dean was struggling, giving exaggerated groans as if he were about to tap out.

Your heart, which had been pounding in your chest just moments before, dropped. For a second, you couldn’t move. Your body couldn’t catch up to the reality of what was happening. That everything was okay. That everyone was safe.

The panic hit full force, stronger than ever.

The sounds of them fighting—the thuds, the shouts, the noise of their bodies crashing together—hit you like a physical blow. The terrifying images of the demons breaking in, of them taking you again, of the torment and the loss, rushed back to the forefront of your mind. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breathing sped up, and you could feel the world starting to slip away.

You stumbled back, your legs weak, hands trembling. You couldn’t breathe. You thought they were here, they were here to hurt them.

To hurt you again.

Your head spun. Your vision blurred. The room felt too small, the walls closing in around you. You tried to back up, but your legs couldn’t hold you. The walls seemed to grow closer with every second, the air thicker, more suffocating. Your body was trembling violently now, and you couldn’t make sense of anything.

“I—I thought—” Your voice cracked, and you felt yourself shaking harder. You tried to make your way toward the door, but your body was no longer cooperating. Your hands gripped the doorframe, your vision swimming with tears. The walls of your mind were crumbling, the panic suffocating you.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice was suddenly in front of you, his tone sharp, urgent, a sound that didn’t match the chaos in your head. But you didn’t hear it the way it was meant. You couldn’t. All you could hear were the demons, the screams, the sharp clang of chains, the mocking laughter of monsters that had torn everything from you.

You gasped, choking on the words you couldn’t seem to form. “I—I heard the noise... the shouting... I thought—they—” You stuttered, your body trembling harder, your knees threatening to give way beneath you. “I thought you were... I thought you were—hurt!”

Tears blurred your vision, and your voice cracked with the weight of the terror inside you. “I thought they were here... again...” you whispered, the words barely coming out. “I thought they were coming for you. For us. I—I heard it. The noise. The shouting. I thought they were breaking in again, and I couldn’t—” You couldn’t control the shaking now, couldn’t get your body to stop trembling. You backed away from Dean and Sam, desperate to get away from whatever was coming.

Dean’s face went ashen, his eyes widening as he saw you. He immediately stepped forward, closing the space between you and him in an instant. He reached out, hands coming to your shoulders, gripping you with a strength that felt grounding.

“No, no, no, kid, it’s okay. You’re safe. We’re all safe. We’re all okay.” His voice was soft, soothing, but there was an edge to it now. You could hear the weight of it in his tone. He understood.

“I thought you were in trouble,” you stammered, barely able to breathe, reaching out to him to steady yourself. “I thought I needed to help. I thought they were—”

“Y/N, hey kid, listen to me. We’re okay.” He gently pulled you into his chest, one hand moving to the back of your head, the other gripping your trembling form against him. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. We’re okay. We’re not going anywhere.”

You gasped for air, your hands gripping his shirt like a lifeline, nails digging into the fabric as your whole body shook. The terror was still burning in your chest, and it felt like you were suffocating under the weight of it.

“I—I’m so s-sorry,” you stammered, your voice shaking uncontrollably. “I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to freak out, Dean... I just—I thought... I thought they were here. I thought—” You gasped for air, the words dying in your throat as the panic roared inside your head. “I thought they were coming to—take me again. To take you.”

Dean’s hand stroked the back of your head, his touch so gentle now that it felt like a lifeline in the storm. “Shh, it’s okay, kid. It’s okay, I know. You don’t have to apologize for this. You don’t have to apologize for being scared. We’ve got you.”

Sam stepped forward, his presence solid and calm. “You’re safe, bug. You’re safe.” He placed a hand gently on your back, and you felt the warmth of it seep through you, grounding you in a way you couldn’t manage to do yourself. “We were just being idiots, messing around. We’re fine. Everything’s okay.”

But the panic still hadn’t stopped. Your body was shaking so badly that you could feel it in your bones. You felt your breath hitch in your chest, and your whole body was still caught in that spiral of fear, the past crashing into the present.

Dean held you tighter, pressing his hand against your back, as though trying to keep the world from falling apart again. “You’re okay,” he murmured. “You’re safe. I swear, we’re not going anywhere.”

You buried your face into his chest, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you from floating away. His heart beat strong under your ear, steady and calm, and for a moment, you tried to sync your breathing with his. You tried to make it stop.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered again, apologizing again, your voice breaking with emotion. “I didn’t mean to... freak out. I didn’t mean to...”

Dean’s voice was a low, soothing murmur as he ran his hand up and down your back. “You never have to apologize for that, Y/N/N. Never.” He pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his face soft, his expression full of something like understanding and regret. Tears were streaming down your face and he pulled you back into him. Your hands clinging to his shirt like he could disappear at any moment. “I know, kid. I know. We’re here. And we’re not going anywhere.” The weight of the fear was still clawing at your chest. You were unable to escape the feeling of terror, but the warmth of Dean’s embrace, his steady hands on your back, and Sam’s quiet presence were grounding you in a way that nothing else could. “You’re okay, Y/N. You’re safe here. You’re with us.”

Your body was still trembling under their touch. The sobs that wracked your chest weren’t stopping, no matter how much you tried to force yourself to breathe through them.

Dean didn’t let go. He held you tighter, his grip never faltering, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of your neck in an effort to comfort you. But he knew. He knew this wasn’t something you could easily snap out of. Not after everything. Not after what you’d been through.

The sobs that escaped you were louder now, messy and frantic, and you couldn’t stop them no matter how much you tried to pull yourself together. “I—I’m sorry,” you apologized for the third time, the words coming out in gasps. “I didn’t m-mean to... I didn’t mean to s-scare you. I j-just... I thought... I thought... they were back.”

Dean’s eyes flicked over to Sam, his face unreadable but his jaw tight, his worry clear. Sam’s hand was still resting on your back, but he looked up at Dean, the unspoken communication between them cutting through the chaos in the room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Dean’s face, his expression softening but filled with a rawness that made your heart ache.

“Y/N,” Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His hands moved to the back of your head, his grip firm and reassuring as he gently pulled you closer to him, as if he could shield you from everything that haunted you. “You don’t have to apologize for this. You don’t have to apologize for being scared, okay? You’re safe. We’ve got you.”

But you couldn’t let go. You really couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t make your body stop shaking. Your fingers were still gripping his shirt with an intensity that had you nearly pulling the fabric out of place, but you couldn’t loosen your hold. You were too scared. Too broken by the moment. What if they came back? What if it happened again?

“I’m so scared De,” you whimpered through your tears, trying to force the words out between sobs. “I am s-so scared... I thought... what if they come back... or... or... or what if they come for you now.” Your breath hitched with every word, and your voice broke, like each syllable was physically tearing you apart.

Dean’s face softened, his brow furrowing in concern. But he didn’t push you away. He didn’t tell you to calm down. Instead, he just held you tighter, his hands soothing as they ran up and down your back, trying to calm the storm inside of you.

“Shhh, I know you’re scared, I know,” he muttered, his voice low but firm. “They’re not coming back. You’re safe. It’s okay, kid. It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, the gesture gentle and familiar, something that always seemed to bring you a little peace when the world felt like it was falling apart. But even that didn’t stop the tears. The panic had dug its claws into you so deep that you couldn’t break free.

You could feel Sam’s presence, feel the steady strength radiating off of him.

“Y/N,” Sam said softly, his voice like a balm against the chaos in your mind. “You’re okay. You’re safe here. We’re right here. You’re with us. You’re home.”

You closed your eyes, trying to pull yourself together. But every time you thought you could calm down, every time you thought your breath might steady, the fear would flood back. It wasn’t something that could be controlled so easily—not after everything that had happened.

Dean’s hands were still running through your hair, the motions so soothing you could feel yourself sinking into his touch. You couldn’t stop holding on to him, couldn’t stop clutching at the fabric of his shirt with all the strength you had left.

You could feel your body shaking against his, your breath hitching with every sob, and you gripped him even tighter. You felt like you were falling apart, like you couldn’t hold yourself together anymore. But Dean didn’t let you go, even as your own body fought against you.

“I’ve got you,” Dean repeated, his voice a steady murmur as you clung to him. “Breathe, kid. Just breathe. We’ve got you. You’re not going anywhere, Y/N. I won’t let it.”

You couldn’t respond. All you could do was grip him tighter, your fingers still twisted in his shirt, the fabric bunched up so tightly you were afraid you might tear it. But he didn’t say anything about it. He just held you, his chest rising and falling with every breath, trying to match your pace, trying to get you to slow down.

Slowly, piece by piece, you let go of the fear. But only because they were there, holding you together.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt safe enough to let go—just a little.

Because they were right there, keeping you from falling apart.

[loosenedinsanity]

so like 300 flirty scenes and angst later:

“But I could’ve helped,” Jayce argues. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Because you hated me!” It’s out. It’s finally out. “You… hated me. And it was the only way to fix it. How was I to come to you with anything when I ruined your only chance with her?”

“Her?” Jayce takes a step back. “You’re not seriously—Mel?”

“I know you love her, Jayce. Even if you didn’t tell me. You didn’t need to, I suppose.” Viktor shrugs helplessly.

“Why did you do it?” Jayce whispers, and Viktor swears he can hear his heart breaking in his chest like shattered glass.

“Because only gold for the golden boy, right?” Viktor chuckles half-heartedly, trying to make light of the situation. Jayce is not amused. “Regardless, I know you would pick her over me anyday, no?”

“No. Never,” Jayce confirms almost immediately, startling Viktor. There’s such a sincere look in his eyes, he wants to melt under it. “Mel left to run her mother’s business as the CFO years ago. After you left.”

“She broke your heart, hm?” Viktor almost smiles.

“She wasn’t the one that broke my heart, Viktor.”

Viktor’s eyes widen.

“Then…”

“You.” Jayce takes a deep breath, running a shaking hand through his hair. “It was always you.” Their eyes meet. “I never hated you, Viktor.”

“But—”

"No, Viktor. Let me finish." Jayce pauses, gathering his thoughts. "When you left… I didn’t just lose you. I lost a part of me. I couldn’t even function properly, and it hurt, more than I could ever say out loud. I never told you that I was this sorry because I… you… there was always that unspoken barrier between us."

Viktor's gaze drops, shame washing over him, torrential, cleansing him. "I left you… and I thought I lost you there too. I thought there was nothing I could do to bring you back, that my Jayce was gone."

Jayce takes a step closer, gently grabbing Viktor’s hand and bringing it to his cheek. Viktor doesn’t even have to consciously react; instinctively curling his fingers around the side of Jayce’s face.

And Jayce leans into his touch, eyes filling with a bittersweet understanding. "Your Jayce is still here. I'm here. That's why this is so difficult. Because I care about you, more than you could ever know. Every part of you."

Viktor leans forward, wanting him to shut up because he feels like he’s about to burst. It’s all he’s ever wanted from Jayce and more. Their foreheads touch, the proximity electric, the air around them thick.

“You were never broken, Viktor. When I told you that, it was probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of my own mouth. And I say lots of stupid stuff.”

“That you do,” Viktor sniffles, laughing.

“But this much I know is right; I love you. I always have. It just took me a really long time to see it.”

“That’s convenient,” Viktor whispers, leaning closer to him, “because I happen to love you too.”

(psst, read my fic here)

[turkey-sandwich]

Assorted Fairy Tail headcanons

Put under read more because it got surprisingly longer than I thought...

Criss, don't look, this has spoilers...(ᵕ—ᴗ—). Also unrelated, this is my favorite Loke gif. Look at his dumb face scrunching up.

Apparently, Loke can purr. Gray was the first person who found out about it and then he told Lucy. They both think it's cute and funny and they never fail to bring it up whenever Loke is around.

To continue upon the purring thing, Loke just acts like a cat sometimes. You know how cats fluff up and hiss when something spooks them? Loke does that too, his hair; which is already spiky, just spikes up even more. He also does that slow blinking thing.

During winter, Happy curls up around Natsu's neck more often, squeezing himself into his scarf. It was cute when he was a hatchling, but now that he's gotten a bit bigger, it's a bit of a hassle. Natsu doesn't mind though.

Jellal is the unwilling president and founder of "People who have a crush on Erza Club", members include Lucy, Mirajane, Minerva and Kagura.

Levy enjoys braiding Gajeel's hair. It's kind of a stress reliever for her.

Whenever Gray's hair is slicked back, he avoids any and all reflective surfaces. He looks way too much like Silver with his hair done like that and losing his father for the second time still hurts for him.

This probably doesn't even count as a headcanon, but Kyoka and Seliah were a thing and they were definitely getting freaky on there.

Lucy just knows a bunch of random things and has a bunch of random skills. Yes, she knows that the space between the eyebrows is called the glabella and yes, she's apparently good at fencing.

Laxus absolutely hates the cold. His coat is for both for fashion and to keep him warm.

If there's a "People who have a crush on Erza Club", there's one for Lucy too. Members include, Natsu, Loke, Gray, Juvia, Lisanna and Yukino.

Gajeel cannot handle summer. He hates summer with a passion. "It makes me feel like I'm melting," he claims.

Gray kissed Loke once, just to see what it's like and what the fuss is about. One accidental make out session later, Gray finally understood why. He wouldn't mind doing it again, but he's not saying that out loud.

Bickslow just moans for no reason at all. At the most random times. Freed hates it so much.

Sometimes, people find Wendy perched atop the weirdest places. As long as it's high up, there's a chance that Wendy is there or has been there. It's just her thing and Charle had given up trying to stop her.

Gray and Lyon are each other's bisexual awakings. Gray when they were kids and Lyon when he got his ass beat by Gray in Galuna Island (after much thought, of course).

Mirajane and Freed have a gossip night sometimes where they just break out the fancy wine and share the wildest things they've heard around in the guild. Mira hears a lot of it and Freed is way too observant that he notices too many things.

Mest has been at Lahar's grave more than he's been at the guild. (The tragic yaoi between them was surprising, but not unwelcome. I need more of that.)

Levy curses at people in foreign languages, Freed is horrified whenever he hears her. He's secretly sworn to never get on her bad side.

Since Lyon can do Ice Make with one hand, I'd assume that Molding Magic users can use their magic with other parts of their bodies like their legs, etc. While not as stable as the standard of using both hands, it's more efficient and are sometimes used for quick escapes. Well, anyways, Lyon can use Ice Make with his tongue. He can't create anything bigger than his own hand and certainly not anything as grand or powerful as his Snow Dragon, but it's useful enough. This totally not because I want to kiss Lyon on the mouth with tongue and then he makes ice while doing so and it'll feel cold, but it'll also feel really good. Definitely not even though it would be really sexy, ahahaha, I don't know what you're talking about.

Minerva takes cooking very, very seriously. No one is allowed in Sabertooth's kitchen when she's cooking and absolutely no one should disturb her while doing so. Anyone foolish enough is going to walk out of that kitchen horrified.

Yuka tries emulating Jura's "wise and serene wizard" look with his eyebrows since he can't grow a beard. It's not working, he just looks goofy, as said by Chelia and then Lyon.

[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

okay sebastian would have the biggest ego if mc is wearing his sweater it would be near intolerable if mc was wearing his ring. I just imagine he would be like my fiancee every five seconds somehow bringing the convo back to his happy relationship much to everyone's detriment

Subtlety is Dead | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

AHHH THIS WAS SUCH A FUN ONE. THANK YOU FOR THE PROMPT ANON! You're gonna get real Gollum "my precious" from LOTR in this ahaha.

Words: ~3,800

Tags: Seventh Year, Fluff, Established Relationship, Romance, Mutual Pining, Reader Insert, Female MC, No Y/N, No Hogwarts House

Saturday mornings were meant for sleeping in. They were also, as it turned out, meant for stealing your boyfriend’s sweater.

Which was why, as you trudged into the Great Hall, still a little groggy from falling asleep in the Undercroft last night, you were engulfed in the oversized, worn-soft fabric of Sebastian Sallow’s favorite sweater. It was slightly too big—long enough to brush your mid-thigh, the sleeves swallowing your hands—but that was precisely why you’d taken it. It smelled like him, felt like him, and most importantly, it was comfortable.

You didn’t even hesitate when you reached the Slytherin table, sliding onto the bench beside Sebastian with a sleepy hum, fully prepared to load up your plate with eggs and toast.

You made one fatal mistake.

You didn’t look at him first.

Because if you had, you would have noticed the way he’d gone completely still, his goblet of pumpkin juice frozen halfway to his lips. You would have seen the way his dark eyes locked onto you with something between awe and unholy amusement, his smirk sharpening like a blade.

Instead, you reached for a piece of toast.

And that was when Sebastian lost his entire mind.

“Is that my sweater?” His voice was deceptively casual. Too casual.

You barely spared him a glance, still too focused on your breakfast. “Mhm.”

A sharp, disbelieving laugh left him, low and delighted. You should have been alarmed. “You’re wearing my sweater,” he repeated, but this time louder, as if announcing it to the entire Great Hall.

At that, you paused mid-bite, chewing slowly as you finally turned to look at him. His grin was positively feral, his chest puffed up with unmistakable pride, as if you had just declared your undying love for him in front of the entire school.

"I wear your clothes all the time," you pointed out, blinking at him.

Sebastian scoffed, shaking his head, leaning in like you’d just said the most wildly incorrect thing in the world. “No, no, you steal my clothes all the time.” His fingers toyed with the sleeve of the sweater, plucking at the fabric with exaggerated interest. “But you never wear them out. Not where people can see.”

You frowned, because that wasn’t true—except, when you really thought about it, you did tend to limit your thefts to the common room or the Undercroft. You wore his jumpers when you curled up on the couch to study, wrapped yourself in them when you'd sneak into the common room late at night to snuggle by the fire with you, sometimes even slept in his shirts when he lent them to you after particularly rainy walks back from Hogsmeade.

But he was right. You’d never just… strolled into the Great Hall wearing something of his.

“Alright,” you admitted, narrowing your eyes. “So what?”

Sebastian exhaled sharply, shaking his head with something that looked an awful lot like adoration, but in true Sebastian fashion, he let the smugness overpower it. “So, this is a big deal,” he declared, so loud you were sure half the Slytherin table could hear.

Ominis, who had been blessedly silent so far, let out a heavy sigh, already rubbing his temples.

“Sebastian,” you warned.

He ignored you entirely. His elbow hit the table as he turned to face the others, shamelessly gesturing at you as if you were some kind of grand prize. “Do you all see this?” He tapped the collar of the sweater, his grin turning downright predatory. “She’s wearing my sweater.

A few students spared him tired glances. Garreth, sitting all the way across the hall, snorted into his tea. “We know,” he called. “We heard the first time.”

Sebastian, as expected, ignored Garreth entirely. He was still staring at you, positively radiating smug satisfaction. You could already see where this was going.

So, naturally, you tried to stop it before it could get worse.

"Sebastian," you said again, voice edged with warning.

He only grinned wider. "No, but do you understand what this means?" He turned to Ominis, who was now sitting perfectly still, like a man bracing for a storm. "Do you understand what this means?"

Ominis inhaled sharply, pressing his fingers against his temple as if warding off a migraine. "Please don’t involve me in this."

Sebastian beamed. "It means she wants people to know she’s mine."

Your entire body tensed. "Sebastian—"

"I mean, it’s one thing to steal my sweaters in private," he continued, ignoring you entirely, "but to wear it out in public? In the Great Hall? In front of everyone? I don’t think I’ve ever been so honored."

Imelda, who had been unfortunately seated within earshot, huffed. "Merlin’s sake, Sallow, we get it. She’s your girlfriend. She has been for two bloody years. Shut up about it."

Sebastian turned to Imelda, utterly undeterred. "Ah, but you see, Imelda, this is different. This isn’t just dating—this is public declaration." He gestured dramatically to you, his smirk stretching wider. "This is the undeniable, unavoidable proof that she is hopelessly in love with me."

You leveled him with a flat look. "You’re lucky I am in love with you, or I’d hex you right now."

Sebastian’s eyes sparkled with mischief. "See?" He pointed at you, like that somehow proved his point. "Even when she threatens me, it’s with affection."

Across the table, Ominis let out a long-suffering sigh and reached for his goblet. "It is far too early for this."

"Too early?" Sebastian scoffed. "Ominis, how can you say that? This is the best morning of my life."

"That’s sad," Imelda muttered.

But Sebastian didn’t even hear her, because something had shifted in his expression. His smugness momentarily faltered, his brown eyes narrowing as he took a closer look at you. Not at the sweater this time, but at your neck.

More specifically—at the silver chain peeking out from beneath the thick fabric.

His gaze darkened with realization. "What’s that?"

Your stomach dropped.

You scrambled to tuck the chain further beneath the sweater, but it was too late—Sebastian was already moving, quick as a snake, fingers darting out to catch the delicate silver chain before you could hide it.

His jaw practically dropped when he saw what was hanging from it.

His ring.

The one he had taken off weeks ago—the one you had absently pocketed, intending to give back but never quite managing to part with. The one you had kept. and worn around your neck.

Sebastian stared at it, utterly still, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he might actually be speechless. But then his lips split into the most devastatingly pleased grin you had ever seen.

"Oh," he breathed, voice thick with satisfaction. "Oh, this is even better."

Ominis let out a strangled noise, already rising from his seat. "No."

You barely had time to react before Sebastians fingers completely curled around the ring, lifting it just slightly from where it rested against your collarbone. He rolled the silver band between his fingers, turning it over like he couldn’t quite believe it. His face was a picture of boyish delight, an impossible mix of smugness and pure affection.

"You’re wearing my ring," he said, and for the first time since this conversation began, his voice wasn’t teasing. It was something softer, something real.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very warm under his gaze. "Sebastian—"

He let out a breathless laugh. "She’s wearing my ring," he repeated, this time louder, turning to the unfortunate souls still at the table.

Garreth choked on his tea. Imelda groaned.

Ominis pressed his palms against the table. "I am leaving."

Sebastian, ignoring everything else, lifted the ring just slightly higher, his fingers brushing against your neck. His smirk returned.

"You know," he mused, "in some cultures, this would be considered a marriage proposal."

You shoved him.

He barely moved, his grin only widening.

Garreth, still watching from across the hall, just shook his head. "You are the worst."

Sebastian sighed blissfully, slipping an arm around your waist like he was claiming you. "And yet, I am the one with a girlfriend wearing my ring. What a shame for the rest of you."

Ominis slammed his hands onto the table. "FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, WE KNOW!"

You sighed, heavily and dramatically, rubbing a hand down your face. “I’m so sorry,” you muttered to the others at the table. “Truly. I didn’t mean to trigger this.”

Ominis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You say that, and yet you continue to date him.”

Imelda just shook her head. “We should have him fitted for a muzzle.”

Garreth gave you a weak thumbs-up. “I mean, it’s entertaining, at least.”

Sebastian, completely unbothered, was still fiddling with his ring around your neck, looking downright pleased with himself. “Oh, don’t listen to them,” he cooed, tilting his head at you, brown eyes warm with mischief. “They’re just jealous. I mean, really, who wouldn’t want a girlfriend who parades around in their clothes and wears their ring like some devoted little wife?”

You groaned this time, fully tilting your head back in exasperation.

“I am not your wife, Sebastian.”

He grinned. “Yet.”

That did it.

With a sharp huff, you reached up to unhook the clasp of your necklace, fully intending to take the ring off and put an end to whatever this was before it spiraled any further.

Sebastian gasped, loudly, like you had just personally betrayed him. “No—wait—”

But you knew him, and you were already shifting to your feet, which meant that when he lunged to stop you, you bolted.

The bench scraped loudly against the floor as you twisted out of his reach, barely dodging his fingers as you scrambled out from behind the Slytherin table.

“Oh, hell no,” Sebastian growled, already moving to chase after you.

The entire Great Hall paused, dozens of students watching as you sprinted for the exit, Sebastian hot on your heels.

Imelda rolled her eyes, reaching for her goblet. “I give her thirty seconds before he catches her.”

Garreth called, stroking his chin like he was deep in thought. “I dunno. She’s got the fear of being publicly proposed to on her side.”

Ominis just scoffed, going back to his breakfast like this wasn’t even worth acknowledging. “I hope Sebastian trips.”

Meanwhile—

You burst out into the corridor, your laughter echoing off the stone walls as you darted between students, shoving past a startled group of Ravenclaws.

Sebastian was right behind you.

“Oh, you’re dead!” he called, voice edged with amusement—and maybe just a little bit of menace.

“Not if you can’t catch me!” you shot back, heart hammering as you bolted down the next hallway, weaving between students who gawked at the spectacle.

A few younger Slytherins pressed themselves against the walls, watching in bewilderment as their Head Boy—someone who was technically supposed to be a responsible figure—chased his girlfriend through the castle like a lunatic.

The way Sebastian was gaining on you was both thrilling and concerning. Your mind scrambled for an escape route. Left toward the library? No, he’d just corner you between the shelves. Down to the courtyard? Too open—he’d tackle you to the ground.

Then—

The staircase.

A flash of inspiration struck, and you lunged for the nearest moving stairwell, barely catching the railing as the steps lurched beneath you.

Sebastian cursed as he skidded to a stop, just missing the stairwell before it groaned and began shifting away.

He stared at you, indignant, chest rising and falling from the sprint. “Oh, you little—”

You grinned breathlessly, gripping the railing as the gap between you widened. “Guess I win,” you teased, watching his jaw tick.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.

And then—

To your absolute horror—

He jumped.

You barely had time to shriek, your brain struggling to catch up to what your eyes had just witnessed—because surely, surely, your boyfriend had not just jumped onto a moving staircase like a complete maniac.

But then Sebastian landed on the railing, clambering up with a look of sheer determination, and reality slammed back into you.

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, spinning on your heel and bolting again.

“Get back here!” Sebastian bellowed, already launching himself onto the stairwell, closing the gap faster than you’d like.

Your eyes darted wildly across the open space below, scanning for another staircase—any staircase—you could jump down to before he inevitably caught you.

There—

Just beneath you, a staircase stretched toward the third floor landing. It was still far, but if you could time it right—

With a sharp breath, you vaulted over the railing.

Sebastian shouted your name, his voice cracking with something between shock and frustration as you dropped, your stomach lurching.

The impact rattled you, but you stumbled forward, pushing through it as you hit the third floor and took off running again.

Sebastian cursed so violently from above that you were fairly certain he just lost house points for language alone.

Then—because he was an idiot—he jumped too.

You heard the thud of his landing, followed by another string of expletives, but you didn’t stop to look.

You ran.

Students turned in confusion as you barreled through the corridor, robes billowing, heart hammering as you veered toward the next set of stairs.

Behind you, Sebastian gained.

"That was stupid, even for you!" you shouted over your shoulder.

"And your jump was smart?"

"It was strategic!"

Sebastian laughed, wild and exhilarated. "I love you," he called, voice full of amusement, "but I’m going to fucking catch you!"

You shrieked as he lunged forward, twisting away just in time, his fingers brushing your sleeve before you slipped past him, nearly slamming into a startled group of Hufflepuffs.

A few older students stood off to the side, watching with amused curiosity.

“Do they do this often?” a fifth-year asked.

Adelaide Oakes nodded sagely. “Unfortunately, yes.”

You sprinted down another set of stairs—you were so close to the Entrance Hall now, but the sound of Sebastian’s boots pounding against the stone behind you meant you had seconds before he caught you.

You needed a distraction.

A quick scan of the hall—and then, like a gift from Merlin himself, you spotted them.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team, fresh off the pitch, were making their way inside, brooms slung over shoulders, arms full of gear, chatting amongst themselves as they filtered through the corridor.

Perfect.

With a burst of speed, you dove straight for them, weaving between the tangle of players, brooms, and equipment like your life depended on it.

“Oi—what the hell?” one of them yelped as you ducked under a Beater’s arm, narrowly avoiding a swinging broomstick.

Sebastian cursed loudly behind you, nearly colliding with one of the Chasers. "Move!!"

But it was too late.

Sebastian was tall, broad, and not nearly as nimble in a crowd.

You heard the thud of him crashing into a Gryffindor, the swearing, the clatter of equipment scattering across the floor—

And just like that, you disappeared.

You darted left, slipping behind a pillar, pressing yourself against the stone as you caught your breath.

Sebastian was still somewhere in the tangle of disgruntled Quidditch players, trying to fight his way through.

You peered around the edge, watching as he spun in a circle, chest rising and falling, scanning the hall for you.

His eyes were wild, his brow furrowed, frustration practically radiating off him.

You grinned.

Sebastian Sallow, brilliant duelist, cunning strategist, top of his class—completely lost.

"Where is she?" he demanded, still searching.

"Mate, I don’t know," a Gryffindor groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "But you just body-slammed half the team!"

Sebastian ignored him, turning sharply, scanning again, his jaw ticking.

You held your breath.

Then his gaze snapped to where you were hiding.

Your heart stopped.

You bolted.

"Oh, you absolute menace—"

Sebastian launched himself forward and you squealed, laughter bubbling out of you as you sprinted for the doors, pushing them open as you burst into the courtyard.

The moment the warm spring air greeted you, you knew you were at a disadvantage.

The open space was too much. No more staircases, no more crowds, no more pillars to duck behind—just you, the sprawling stone path, and the very determined Slytherin chasing after you.

Sebastian was stronger. Faster. And, to your ever-growing frustration, incredibly smug about it. So you needed to be smarter.

A plan was already forming in your head as you pushed forward, feet pounding against the cobblestone. Behind you, Sebastian was gaining again, his longer strides eating the distance between you.

"You’re running out of space!" he called, voice dripping with amusement. "Where do you think you’re gonna go?"

You grinned to yourself.

The fountain was just up ahead—one of the larger ones, its stone base deep enough to hold a proper pool of water, its spouting center surrounded by intricate carvings.

You veered towards it.

Sebastian, just as you expected, followed.

You heard the smirk in his voice. "A dead end? Really?"

You didn’t answer. Didn’t even look back. Instead, you slowed, just slightly, making it seem like you were tiring. Like you had no choice but to stop.

And, of course, Sebastian took the bait.

You could practically feel his cockiness spike, could hear the overconfidence in his steps as he surged forward, ready to pounce.

"You should've known," he taunted, "you can’t outrun me."

Then, just before he could grab you, you pivoted on your heel, sidestepping at the last possible second.

Sebastian had zero time to react. His own momentum betrayed him—his hands missed you entirely, his boots slipped against the wet stone edge—

And then, with a loud splash, Sebastian Sallow went straight into the fountain.

The world paused.

For a single, glorious moment, there was silence.

Then—

You screeched with laughter, already sprinting away, the sound of splashing and furious cursing echoing behind you. You glanced over your shoulder to see Sebastian emerging from the water, soaked from head to toe, his jaw hanging open in disbelief.

"You—" He blinked, water dripping from his hair, his shirt completely plastered to his skin. "You little—that was foul play!" Sebastian shouted after you, struggling to haul himself out of the fountain.

"You should’ve seen your face!" you howled.

"I am so hexing you for this!"

"Good luck with that!"

Soaked to the bone, dripping from head to toe, and still struggling to wring water from his sleeves, Sebastian was left with no choice but to chase after you again, fueled by sheer, unbridled determination.

You, however, had no intention of letting him catch you anytime soon.

Your laughter rang through the courtyard as you sprinted towards the covered bridge, your heart hammering with exhilaration. Students had begun gathering in small groups, exchanging amused whispers as they watched the spectacle unfold.

Sebastian was seething, but in that wild, playful way that made your stomach flip.

“You are in so much trouble!” he bellowed, his shoes squelching loudly against the stone path as he stormed after you.

“I don't know,” you called back over your shoulder, grinning as you reached the entrance to the bridge. “You look a little slow, Sallow!"

“Slow?” he repeated, the disbelief in his voice nearly making you double over from laughter. “You’re taunting me now?”

You grinned, giddy with victory, heart pounding as you neared the bridge’s midpoint. "What? Can’t handle a little truth?"

Sebastian growled, and that was when you knew you were done for.

He launched himself forward, closing the gap with terrifying speed.

"Shit—"

You tried to dodge, but this time, he was ready.

Sebastian snatched your wrist, yanking you back so suddenly that you gasped, your feet slipping beneath you. And before you could even process what was happening, you were spun, your back hitting the wooden beam of the bridge, Sebastian’s hands trapping you there.

You gasped, breath catching in your throat.

He was close. Too close.

His chest rose and fell with exertion, his soaked clothes clinging to his frame, his wet curls sticking to his forehead. Water still dripped from his sleeves, his collar, his hands, leaving dark stains against the wooden planks below.

And his eyes.

Oh.

His eyes.

Dark. Smoldering. Dangerous.

His fingers flexed against your wrists, his grip firm—but not tight. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to hold you there, to remind you that he had won.

You swallowed hard. "Sebastian—"

"Oh, no," he murmured, voice dangerously low, his lips twitching into something deadly. "Not this time. You're not gonna talk yourself out of this, love."

Your heart stuttered as you took him in, watched the water dripping from his hair and from the tip of his nose.

You bit your lip. "You’re still wet."

He huffed out a laugh his gaze flickering to your mouth before dragging slowly back up to your eyes.

"Yeah?" His voice was soft now, teasing. "Well, whose fault is that?"

Your stomach flipped.

He shifted closer, pressing you firmly against the beam, his breath warm against your cheek.

"I should make you pay for that," he murmured, voice laced with something wicked.

A thrill shot through you.

"Yeah? What's the plan then?" you asked, voice a touch breathless. "Gonna drag me back to the fountain? Hug me and get me all wet? Toss me in the Black Lake?"

Sebastian's smirk darkened, hooking a finger under the chain around your neck, his ring dangling between you.

"Who said anything about that kind of wet?"

Heat spiked up your spine, your entire body locking up as the meaning behind his words registered.

Sebastian just grinned, slow and devastating, clearly reveling in your reaction.

His voice dropped lower, velvety smooth. "What’s wrong?" His lips twitched. "You look a little flustered."

You gaped at him, at the absolute nerve—

"Unless you'd prefer a dip in the fountain instead?" He murmured, tilting his head, his smirk nothing short of lethal.

You stared at him, torn between sheer indignation and something far, far more dangerous.

Your pride refused to let you fold, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. But the heat pooling in your belly, the way your breath hitched under the weight of his gaze, the way he was looking at you—

Oh, you were in trouble.

Sebastian knew it, too.

He smirked, tilting his head just slightly, watching you war with yourself, his finger still hooked under your chain, rolling his ring between his fingers.

"Go on," he said. "Take your pick."

"Between drowning and…?" You trailed off, raising an eyebrow, pretending to be unaffected.

Sebastian hummed at your question, the sound deep, thoughtful—mocking. His smirk curled further as he slowly reeled you in, the chain around your neck tightening ever so slightly as he tugged you forward.

Your breath caught. Your nose brushed his. And his voice dropped to something low, something just for you.

"Let me show you."

And that was what finally made you admit it— you didn’t care at all that you’d lost. Because, Merlin help you, if this was losing, you never wanted to win again.

[jjaehyunnxie]

hide and seek

reader x perv!jisung

! MDNI, jisung is a slight pervert, voyeurism, haechan catches them

"Alright, everybody! Cheers!!" Haechan's loud voice fills the room as the clinking of the glasses ring, before everybody takes a big gulp out of their drinks.

A random act of kindness sparked Chenle when he offered to throw a party at his house. Everybody could swear there was something wrong with him but he insisted on it. And now here you all were. 8 people, all gathered up at one long table covered in food prepared diligently by Chenle and Jaemin (although, everybody offered to help them out). It was a rather wholesome scene. Something about everyone being gathered in one place, sharing conversations and enjoying the same food was so heart warming.

Looking at it carefully, Chenle's house really was huge. Marble flooring, tall pillars with neat designs on them, a ceiling that seemed to go way too high and large windows with a stunning view. Everything was big and expensive-looking. Weirdly enough, it fit Chenle's vibe perfectly.

You sat beside Jisung who was extra talkative today. He kept showing you things he's been into lately, ranting passionately to him. Jisung always mentioned that talking to you about these things made him happy and you knew there was probably no one else willing to listen to his rants so you gave in and offered him your full attention for most of the night, up until food was served and he got silent.

"Attention!" Haechan's voice makes everyone turn their head towards him, clinking his teaspoon on his almost empty glass of beer. "I say...how about, we play a game? A game that can only be played in such a large and beautiful house."

"What are you hinting at? Do you wanna burn my house down or something?" Chenle asks with a slight chuckle, expecting Haechan's response to be entertaining as always.

"Hide and Seek", Haechan says with a smile.

Everyone turns to eachother in confusion. Why such a childish game? You were all full grown adults so why bother with these things?

Donghyuck could feel the frustration growing from the members so he chooses to add something else. "Guys, come on! What's wrong with playing a fun children's game once in a while? Plus, it's not everyday you get to be in a mansion like this! We gotta use it to our heart's content!!"

"I'm in." Chenle says, his smile intrigued. So, once the host agreed to it, obviously everybody else agreed to it as well.

Spinning his empty soju bottle, the cap landed on Haechan. He tried to hide his excitement but it was too obvious he was enjoying this.

Thus, he ends up covering his eyes and counting 'till 20, while everyone else rushed to find a spot to hide. Secretly, everybody tried to make it so that Haechan doesn't succeed in finding anyone, just to see his pout as he swears for the nth time that he'll never play games with "you traitors". But to everybody's surprise, finding a spot to hide was harder than imagined.

At this point, everyone had already hidden. All the good areas you thought of were occupied and Haechan was already reaching the last 10 numbers. Suddenly, as if sent by the heavens, you see a closet in what seemed to be Chenle's room. You dash to it, opening it slowly while you take a second to pray that nobody was inside already. Your prayers were left to scatter as you see Jisung, standing cramped and uncomfortable.

There was just no way you could be this unlucky. Just as you were about to close the door to the closet, thinking about just giving up and turning yourself in - maybe help haechan find everyone else - Jisung grabs your wrist.

"Come in, there's still some space left." he whispers.

This sounded like a bad idea. I mean, you? Cramped up in a tight closet with Jisung? The guy that seemed to always stick to you like glue and that always stares at you with an oddly loving look from afar? Still, as you hear Haechan say "19...18...20!" you give in, quickly entering the closet, trying to take up as little space as the door closes, cutting off any source of light that was there.

Chenle's clothes were stacked on the right side of the closet, while the other side was left empty for any jackets to hang. Despite there being no coats hanging, your back was still pressed against Jisung's chest, cramped up in the tiny space that somehow seemed to be much larger.

For a long while you just hear Haechan's frustrated groans and complaints, "Just where did you guys hide!! Come on!!!" mixed with his confident cheers "Found you! See? I told you I'm good at this! Now help me find the rest...". Of course, all of this on top of Jisung's breathing that kept getting heavier and more uneven. His hands were ghosting over your figure, as if he was trying to shut up every voice in his head that told him to grab your waist or hips - just to touch you.

The limited space for movement was making your body numb. As you try to stretch your limbs, you suddenly feel something hard poke your ass. Jisung is quick to apologise, saying he didn't mean it, that it's just the situation - all the while, his hands were found secured on your hips, gripping them with little shame.

"Jie, what are you-?"

"Shhh...please. I'm sorry, okay? I can't help it..." he whines in a whisper. His apologises are a terrible contrast from his actions which slowly rub your hips on his bulge.

This was so wrong. Yet, why was he so cute? His soft pleads, his painfully desperate voice brushing over your ears as he tries his hardest to beg for you while also staying quiet. His crush on you being so obvious was already adorable in the first place, just how much cuter can this guy even get?

"Please, y/n. Just the tip...I'll be quick-fuck, I'll cum right away, I promise."

You just had to give in.

"Okay, okay. Be quiet, though. Hyuck shouldn't catch us..."

He nods rapidly. "I'll do anything. He won't catch us. I promise you." Jisung rambles empty promises as you can hear the soft clinking of his belt being unbuckled and his zipper quickly pulled down in a swift motion. His hand slides under your skirt, fingers tugging at your panties before pushing them aside. He groans at how wet you already are. You're just as perfect as he always imagined. Plush pussy, glossed and ready for his dick.

He wastes no time, slipping his tip in with ease, earning a shaky exhale from him. He pushes in and out of you, slipping his tip in and out. But with every slide, it feels as if he tries to go deeper.

"Shit, baby. I'm sooo sorry, I need your pussy so bad." he whines as he shoves his whole length in you, finding a steady pace as he thrusts deep. His left hand slithers to your chest, squeezing your breast tightly, while his right hand goes under your skirt, rubbing your clit.

"Y-You said only the-fuck" your moans became more and more difficult to keep quiet, desperate whines that were impossible to not hear from outside.

His hand rushes to your mouth, muffling your moans as his thrusting picks up speed. "It's okay, I'm almost done. Just a little more, okay?" he pleads with a shaky voice, large hands wrapped around your body as the wet sounds of skin slapping filled the small, cramped up area.

"Oh, shiiit, y/n. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum in this tight pussy...'s all yours..."

Unable to warn him about your orgasm approaching as well, it takes you over, cunt clamping down hard on his length as he lets out desperate cries and pleads, continuing to fuck into you silly.

He doesn't last long before his cock shoots its ropes of hot cum in you with stuttering hips, his body left trembling and struggling to keep you up on your feet.

He rushes to stuff his softened dick back in his pants, trying as hard as he can to hide any evidence of his doings but is only startled when Haechan opens the door to Jisung zipping his pants up and you, struggling to stand up and a fucked out expression on your face.

"You guys are seriously unbelievable. If you hadn't finished then, I would've come in myself to finish it off." He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Searched the whole villa for you two, only to find you having your own 7 minutes in heaven."

[karedaki-memento-mori]

let's not trust our brains after 10pm.

[ducktracy]

what a fantastic transition

[kiefbutter]

i think it would be funny if the apprentices all got high together. i want to give all of them blunts and then put them in a room to see what happens

1000000000% i feel like amanda and hoffman would be the ones carrying the vibes, there’s absolutely no fucking way that they wouldn’t be completely stoned off their asses and Not debate about some stupid trivial shit (i just know they both blow smoke in each others faces when they get annoyed with one another) with larry and logan (if we’re counting him, i still have beef with Jigsaw (2017) ) i feel like both of them are a dissociate and let things happen kinda bunch, Occasionally they’ll chime in for whatever argument is taking place but i just know that if they’re hotboxing and lawrence is smoking a lot. That bitch would be TWEAKIN

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[thegempage]

eeeuuuuggghhh i'm gonna bitch in the tags a bit bcus this isn't like. serious enough to put more effort into it than that but i also don't want it to sit in my brain.

[melit0n]

Just wanna put this out here; please do not listen to music on full blast. I understand the want to feel music in your bones, but the more you do that, the higher chance you have of losing your hearing to some extent, which means, by default, you slowly loose the prospect of being able to listen and enjoy music in the future.

This goes for both listening to music in general, and going to live shows (especially looking at you, metal heads). Simple earplugs or headphones won't do you any harm. If the security guards at the barrier can wear them and still hear everything going on at the show, so can you! Take this from someone who's got bad tinnitus.