#like genuinely okay I’m drunk but how is that something people do

[newvision]

Feeling like cracking open my skull, throwing up, never leaving bed etc

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You go through a whirlwind of emotions when drunk.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: drunk!reader, Reader annoying Sirius

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: James Potter x drunk!Reader

You were slumped between James and Sirius, giggling uncontrollably, your legs swinging off the armrest of the couch as you hiccuped. The room was warm, and everything felt so funny. Especially Sirius's hair.

"You know what, Pads?" you slurred, poking Sirius in the cheek. "You look like a... a giant poodle. But a mean one. Like, the poodles at the dog shows that bite people."

Sirius's jaw dropped. “A poodle? You—no, absolutely not. I am—what did you say I was, James?”

James was trying not to laugh. "Uh, majestic, I think."

"Majestic!" Sirius pointed at you dramatically, like that would prove his point.

You snorted so hard you almost fell off the couch, but James caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and steadying you. "Sure, sure, 'Padfoot the Majestic Poodle.'"

"It's mostly because of your hair—" you giggled, reaching out to pat the top of his head, missing entirely and booping his nose instead. "It's so fluffy, like a big, angry puppy!"

Sirius frowned, swatting your hand away dramatically. "I am not a dog, and my hair is majestic, thank you very much."

"Fluffy," you repeated, poking him in the cheek now. "Sirius, fluffy like a… like a poodle!"

James tried to hold back a laugh as Sirius looked properly offended, folding his arms with a huff. "Are you serious?"

You snorted at his pun. "No, you’re Sirius!"

Remus groaned from beside Peter. "Oh no. Not this again."

Peter shook his head, barely holding back his own giggles. "Here we go…"

“Are you lot serious right now?” Sirius grumbled, crossing his arms. “A poodle. Really.”

“Sirius is serious,” you added, and then cracked up at your own joke. “Sirius is Sirius—wait, Remus, did you hear that? It’s his name.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, we got it.”

“But I’m not a poodle,” Sirius muttered, still offended, while you continued to giggle.

James still eyed the bottle of firewhiskey in your hand like he wanted to take it away. Not that you noticed. Nope. You were too busy trying to poke Sirius in the cheek.

“You’ve got—got something there,” you slurred, leaning in far too close to Sirius’s face.

“What? Where?” Sirius asked, looking genuinely concerned as he wiped at his cheek. “Did I get dirt on me?”

“Yeah, it’s called your face,” you giggled, falling back onto James and laughing like it was the funniest thing you’d ever said.

Sirius gasped dramatically, hand over his heart. “How dare you! James, do you hear this? Your girlfriend is cruel.”

You waved him off, turning your attention back to James, who was trying not to smile. “He’s just mad ‘cause he’s not as pretty as you,” you said, squinting up at James like you were stating the most obvious fact in the world. You reached out and patted his face, a little too hard. “So. Pretty.”

James chuckled, grabbing your hand before you could slap him again. “Alright, love, I think you’ve had enough for one night.”

“Noooooo,” you whined, stretching out the word. “M’fine, Jamie. Look! I can sit up perfectly straight.” You immediately leaned to the side, almost toppling over onto Peter, who yelped and quickly scooted out of the way.

“Maybe… maybe a little too much,” Remus said from beside Peter, watching with raised eyebrows.

“Remus!” you called, throwing your arms out toward him. “You’re so boring, you know that?”

“Hey, I like boring,” Peter mumbled from his chair, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, Wormtail likes boring!” you repeated, pointing to Peter like he was your greatest proof.

You sat up suddenly, looking around the room, eyes wide and dramatic. “Wait. Wait. You guys can’t ever leave me, okay? Promise.”

The Marauders exchanged confused looks. “Uh—okay?” Peter said hesitantly.

“I’m serious—not like Sirius serious—" you hiccuped, "But you guys can’t leave. We have to stay friends forever or I’ll—I’ll hex all of you!” You threw your hands up, trying to look menacing, but it came off more like a flailing octopus.

James quickly wrapped his arms around you as you dramatically collapsed into his chest. “Love, we’re not going anywhere.”

“Speak for yourself,” Sirius muttered, though he was still looking somewhat offended by your earlier insult. “I don’t think I can handle another ‘your face is the problem’ comment.”

But you weren’t having it. You pointed a shaky finger at them, wobbling slightly. “You better not, Sirius Black! Or I’ll—” You narrowed your eyes dramatically, trying to look intimidating. “I’ll hex you into next week! I know spells, you know!”

James bit his lip, trying not to laugh as Sirius raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? What spells?”

“Spells!” you repeated, waving your hands in the air as if that was a valid explanation. “Dangerous ones!”

Peter snorted. “I’m terrified.”

Sirius held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Merlin, you’re scary when you’re drunk.”

“Good,” you said, immediately softening. “Because I love you guys, even though Sirius is a poodle, and Remus won’t laugh at my jokes, and Peter—well, Pete, you’re just so cute, aren’t you?”

“Thanks,” Peter mumbled.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you reached out, pulling all of them into a big, awkward group hug. “I just love you guys, okay? Don’t leave me… ever.”

James chuckled, his hand warm on your back. "Alright, let's get you to bed, yeah?"

“I don’t wanna go to bed,” you pouted, leaning into James like a rag doll. “I wanna stay here and annoy Sirius more.”

“I’m not listening to this nonsense,” Sirius huffed, throwing his hands up.

“Oh, but Sirius—don’t you wanna cuddle like a big, fluffy dog?” you teased, blinking innocently.

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.”

James stood up, pulling you gently with him. “C’mon, love, you’re barely standing.”

“Wait, no, no, no—you're all amazing, even you, Remus, boring and all.” You paused, eyes widening as if you had just realized something horrible. “Wait—don’t ever leave me, guys.”

Your lower lip started to wobble.

“Don’t leave me! You can’t! What if you just disappeared? Poof! Gone! And I’m all alone. I’ll die. I’ll actually die.”

James squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you’re driving everyone mad, love.”

You looked up at him, beaming. “But not you, right, Jamie?” you gushed, running your fingers through his messy hair, making it even worse. “You’re perfect, James Potter. Like… a Quidditch god! And your glasses are so… shiny.”

Sirius fake gagged. “Ugh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Shush, poodle!” you shot back at him, your words blending together into a cute mess of slurs. “You’re just jealous ‘cause James is my shiny glasses boy.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was a fond smile tugging at his lips. Peter was full-on laughing now, while James was just gazing at you, completely smitten.

You huffed but allowed him to help you stand. “You’re the best, James,” you said, leaning heavily on him as he started to guide you toward the stairs.

“You’re pretty great yourself,” James chuckled, tightening his grip on your waist so you wouldn’t stumble.

Just before you reached the dormitory, you stopped, looking up at him with bleary eyes. “No, really, Jamie. You’re the best. Don’t ever change.”

James grinned down at you, his heart melting a little. “I won’t, love. Now let’s get you to bed before you start threatening to hex me too.”

You smiled sleepily, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “I’d never hex you. You’re too pretty.”

And with that, you were out, leaving James with a fond smile and the rest of the Marauders shaking their heads behind him.

Downstairs, Sirius was still sulking. “A poodle… unbelievable.”

i love drunk!reader so much!!

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! I’ve been wanting to request to you for while bc I love your writing so much but I’m not used to requesting so idk 😭

Ok so I LOVE the way you write for wolfstar x reader. I was wondering if you could write smth where reader gets drunk (or just tipsy) and, bc of the alcohol, she gets more confident and starts being super verbally affectionate when she normally isn’t. It’s not that she’s shy but she just isn’t really a verbally affectionate person.

Thank you lovely!

cw: alcohol, inebriation

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“You don’t just casually brush a customer’s hand unless you’re hitting on them!” Sirius insists as he jimmies his key in the front door. “And right in front of us, too. The gall!” 

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” He can practically hear Remus’ eyes rolling. “He wasn’t hitting on me.” 

“Our angel and I didn’t get felt up when he gave us our drinks.” 

Something suspiciously giggle-esque comes out of Remus. “He didn’t feel me up!” 

“I think you just don’t understand how handsome you are,” you say in a voice made of dandelion fluff, soft and light and pure. “People like you more than you realize. It’s sort of sweet how you don’t notice, though.” 

The lock finally gives. Sirius opens the door gallantly, allowing you and Remus to spill inside first. You’re clinging to your boyfriend like moss to a tree, and Sirius is endlessly grateful for Remus’ physical stability even in inebriation so that he doesn’t have to support the both of you himself. 

Sirius never sets out to be the most sober at the end of the night, but Remus only had as many drinks as Sirius and has somehow ended up twice as tipsy. Sirius’ theory: the bartender took a liking to him and poured him doubles as a token of his affection. Considering Remus’ tall frame, Welsh origins, and the fact that he’s been able to drink Sirius under the table since they were fifteen, this seems the only reasonable explanation. 

“Me?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised, a bit of bashfulness creeping into his tone. 

“Mhm,” you hum. “Remember that barista last week? She liked you, too, but you couldn’t tell then either.” 

“She liked me because I had a simple order.” 

You shake your head, smiling up at him all soft and adoring. “No, she liked you because you’re lovely.” You reach up, tracing the lines of one of his scars with your fingertip. “Very, very lovely.” 

Sirius is inclined to agree, even as Remus’ face goes a very, very lovely rosy hue. You’re in rare form tonight, honey-tongued and expressive in ways you’re usually not inclined to. You’ve been overflowing with declarations of love and sweetness since you all left the bar. 

“Do you want something to drink, my loves?” Sirius asks as Remus tries to collapse to the floor as carefully as he can so that he can take his shoes off with you stuck to his side. 

“Awe, Siri,” you turn to him with a look of wonder, “are you gonna make sure we’re fed and watered?” 

Sirius can’t help himself. He crouches beside you, slotting his hand alongside your face. You’re positively moony-eyed. 

“I sure am, sweetness. Is that okay with you?” 

You nod, rubbing your cheek against his palm. “I love you when you take care of us. I mean,” you get very serious, “I love you all of the time. It’s not conditional, just, this is a bit extra.” 

Sirius is smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “Noted,” he tells you. 

You continue to look at him with that sweet, dreamy expression, and Sirius realizes you’ve likely forgotten he ever asked you a question. He’d be content to do this with you all night, except the only thing that sounds better than sitting here holding your face is getting to hold both you and Remus once he gets you both in bed. 

Also, now your boyfriend is watching the two of you with a lovelorn expression, clearly feeling left out, and Sirius can’t have that. 

“Do you want some water, darling?” he asks him. 

Remus’ cheeks pinken again at being caught. “I wouldn’t mind some. I can get it.” 

“No, you say here.” Sirius stands, setting a fond hand atop his boyfriend’s head. “Why don’t you two take your shoes off, and I’ll bring it to you.” 

Sirius can hear you and Remus whispering and giggling to each other from the kitchen. Your voices intertwine in a sweet, steady susurrus, as much as part of your home as the hum of the refrigerator or the creaking of the pipes. When Sirius comes back with a cup for each of you, you’ve waylaid Remus on the floor, your torso half atop his and his hands cupping your face. You’re both smiling tenderheartedly. One of your shoes is still on, the clasp undone. Sirius sits by your feet.

“My lovely dovely,” Remus is murmuring, sozzled, squishing your face between his hands. You look nearly ready to melt into a puddle on their floor when you feel Sirius pulling off your remaining shoe and look back at him. 

“Sirius.” You appear delighted to see him. “Did you have a fun time tonight?” 

He presses cups of water into both of your hands. You sit up to drink yours, whereas Remus tips the cup half on his face when he tries to drink it lying down. 

“I did,” Sirius replies. He clasps Remus’ hand to help him up, and the other boy lets him. “Did you?” 

Remus runs his fingers up the length of Sirius’ forearm. “Did you really?” he asks. There’s a small divot of worry between his brows.

Sirius frowns. He leans forward, kissing it away. “Of course I did, lovely. Why are you asking?” 

“We were just saying,” you answer for him, “that we hope you did still have a good time, even though now you have to look after us.” 

A little laugh puffs out of Sirius, relieved. “Oh. Well you’ve got nothing to worry about there, yeah? I love looking after you.”

You glance at Remus, smiling. “That’s what I said.” 

“Next time,” Remus says somberly, “you can get as drunk as you like, and we’ll bring you home and feed you water.” 

“And massage your back,” you add. “And give you cuddles, if you like.” 

“I like the sound of that very much,” Sirius agrees. “Is this your way of telling me you’d like back massages and cuddles?” 

You smile at him dopily. “I love you,” you say. 

Sirius rolls his eyes. “I love you too. Alright, you win. Back massages and cuddles if you both finish your waters and get in bed.” 

[girlokwhatever]

can u do reader coming home drunk after a nightout and paige takes care of her?🥺 (smut or fluff is fine)

𝄞₊ ⊹˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ taking care of you,,

paige bueckers x fem!reader

paige is sitting in your shared apartment’s living room when she hears you fumbling with the keys outside. she immediately sets down her textbook, opening the door before you can even find the right key. she’s been expecting your arrival after you texted her a jumble of words, piecing together ‘home’ and ‘soon.’

you went out with a few of your friends from class to a local club, trying to unwind after a stressful few weeks. of course she wanted you to have fun but sometimes if other people were drinking, you tended to do the same. unfortunately for you, you were a lightweight.

“baby!” your eyes gleam at her, wide and glossy. you’re a bit of a bubbly drunk tonight, finding everything funny and somewhat joyful. you smiled at your girlfriend and jumped into her, craving her touch after being away for a few hours.

“hey ma, how was your night? had fun?” she catches you, holding the back of your thighs when you wrap your legs around her. your smile immediately turns to a dramatic frown, bottom lip pouted out. she has to resist the urge to kiss you, settling for the feeling of your body heat on hers.

“this guy was flirting with me paigey,”

“oh yeah?”

“yeah, told ‘em i have a pretty girlfriend already.”

now she’s smiling at you like a dope, pride swelling in her heart at your little story. you’re smiling with pride too, as if you just got told you did a good job. you’re paige’s favorite person in the world, no doubt. so hearing you brag about her is something that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

“how much did you drink?” she’s closing the door now, not missing the smell of alcohol when your soft breath hits her face. you shrug your shoulders because you genuinely have no clue. just from your answer, or lack of one, she knows it was a lot more than you can probably handle for one night.

you drop your legs from around your girlfriend and she lets you, letting go of the grip she has on your thighs. you wobble for a second while you adjust to standing on your own again. paige watches you carefully, slightly concerned at how out of it you seem. she finds herself getting a little angry at your friends for letting you drink so much, but she lets it go because she knows it was all in good fun.

“oh.. wow. that’s not-“ your hands are on your stomach and paige knows what’s about to happen. she’s ushering you to the bathroom, lifting the toilet lid, and pulling any loose hair out of your face. she lets you get it all out, patting your back and telling you it’s ok, the same way she always does. if you weren’t battered drunk it would probably make you blush.

“are you okay?”

you silently nod, already feeling a bit more sober. paige sends you a soft smile, kissing your forehead and pulling away again to turn on the shower. she grabs your pj’s from your room and when she comes back you’re half asleep against the wall.

“baby, gotta get you cleaned up okay?”

now you’re both in the shower together while paige lathers the shampoo and conditioner into your hair. you pleaded with her to get in with you, still not feeling the best. she said yes, tied her hair up in a bun, took off her clothes, and now she’s in here. with you.

she helps you rinse your hair out (she does it without any of your help) and just takes a moment to admire you. it seems you had the same idea though, staring up at paige with doe eyes. she notices you’re not exactly smiling, a light frown taking your features.

“what’s wrong?”

“miss you p,”

“i’m right here”

“yeah but.. you’re in minnesota.”

paige is genuinely shocked at your statement, laughing out loud and throwing her head back at what you said. she was in minnesota for a few days last month and you couldn’t free your schedule enough to go with her, which is what she thinks you’re referring to. of course in your drunk mind you think she’s making fun of you, which only makes you feel worse. you step out of the shower, the cold apartment air making your nipples peak and your body shiver.

paige follows in suit, having to hold her breathe at the sight of you. she jogs to your room, putting her own pajamas on and quickly returning to you.

“baby i’m sorry. don’t be upset please, i wasn’t laughing at you.”

you’re clothed too, standing in between paige and the bathroom counter as she rubs lotion on your back from underneath your shirt. her hands are large and warm, smoothing over your skin with a delicacy that you appreciate. you don’t exactly realize it all the time, but paige does a phenomenal job at taking care of you. especially on nights like this.

“yes you were.”

“ok… i was. but! but- it’s because i was just a little shocked, is all.”

you turn to face her, eyes scanning over her face until you determine how you feel. you try to remember what you even said, but nothing’s popping up so you decide to just forget it.

“feeling better?”

“for a kiss.” paige kisses you, gentle and soft. her hands situated on your hips pull you closer until you’re chest to chest. all of the sudden you’re pulling away with a frantic energy, like you just remembered something of the upmost importance.

“skincare!” you (in true clumsy fashion) try hopping up on the counter. once you fail a few times and then some, paige decides to just lift you herself. she digs through your drawer, not knowing where to start.

you don’t even seem to be in the same universe, eyes closed and legs swaying ever-so little. she decides to just pick a few things, mixing them all together in her hands before smoothing it over your face. it isn’t really her thing, you’re always the one doing it for her and yourself. once she’s satisfied, she taps your legs and kisses your nose. your eyes flutter, giving her a lazy smile.

“ready for bed?”

“mhm”

“brush your teeth first” you groan and she smiles as she walks away, pulling the covers back and throwing extra pillows to the floor. by the time she’s cut all the nights off in the apartment and returned, you’re rinsing your mouth out with water. she notices you’re ever more clumsy than usual, knocking over a few things on the counter and almost tripping over your own feet before she catches you.

“c’mere baby,” paige motions you closer, picking you up and carrying you to your shared bedroom. she lays on her back with you on top of her still, never letting go.

her face nuzzles into your damp, freshly washed hair. your face buries itself into her neck, the slow thump of her pulse helping ground you to reality. you couldn’t ever remember a time being this drunk, but to be fair you couldn’t remember much of anything right now. just that you love paige, and paige loves you.

“hey wait, take this advil and drink some water before you pass out please.” you whine, obviously too comfortable to lift your head.

“no. don’t wanna.”

“for a kiss?”

“…..fine.”

ㅤᵕ̈⋆｡°✩`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹✩°｡✮☾☼

just finished reading like 5 diff kate martin stories on wattpad guys

also this isn’t spell checked pls forgive me

[moneymartin]

kate hcs? like what u did w nika plsss

・❥・- gf!kate hcs

warnings: harddd smut under the divider at the end and suggestive content :p

afab!r

a/n: i genuinely love doing hcs more than writing full on fics cause my lord i cannot write a whole story without going off track and ruining the entire thing… got carried away like always. also this is longgg overdue as well. i’ve been procrastinating everything and i feel bad for not releasing anything sooner like i promised. thank you for being patient w me lolz

i’m glad that we all agree… kate is theeee golden retriever girlfriend

i mean who wouldn’t say that

blonde masc that gives off happy vibes and literally has a tattoo that says ‘sunshine’

treats you like a real fuckin’ princess like she knows what she’s doing

okay kate lovesssss the kids

her and carson are so adorbs 💔

when someone asks her what her profession is she is not gonna say a pro hooper

shes gonna say that shes carson’s aunt 😭

def takes you over to kennedy’s house when she’s gone and makes you babysit carson w her 🥹

loves when they hold her fingers she thinks its the cutest thing in the world and you photograph the whole thing

spoils you fosho!!!!

mention one lil thing and shes buying it for you

new clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, accessories. ANYTHING YOU WANNTTT!!!

yk how she likes tswift…

takes you to a concert for your bday if you do too

and wears that stupid cowboy hat 😒

but you guys would be matching soooo

DEFINITELY loves physical touch

hands hands handssss

they’re all over you in public like she is not afraid to show people you’re hers 😩

on your waist or hips. her fingers are always on you somehow

also does it romantically like she’ll intertwine pinkies with you and always holds your hand no matter the situation

the thumb thing is her favorite

loves pda foshooooo

i don’t think she’d be possessive but i feel like shes the jealous type

sees you w a girl at the bar or sumn and starts to FREAK!

she’ll sit next to you immediately and is touching you all over so that the girl goes away 😭

or shes burying her face into your neck and kissing your skin in front of her

WHEW!!!

everyone can disagree w me on this but i see her as lil spoon when you guys cuddle…

FIGHT ME ALL YOU WANT BUT THIS GIRL LOVEEESSSS WHEN YOU PLAY W HER HAIR WHILE SHE SLEEPS

kisses your neck or your collar while shes half asleep 😣

back rubs are her fav thing too

shes the one getting them tho cause she’s always so tense after practice and she believes that if you do it she’ll feel better already

we all know shes a passenger princess.

she probably has a car but refuses to drive it alone when you’re there cause she thinks she’ll crash it or something

lets you wear her clothes

if she was taller (most likely) she’d have you in all her shirts and stuff cause they look bigger on you

you think you shouldn’t wear anything under cause it hides everything anyways and kate agrees

in reality she just loves the easy access…

total baby when she’s drunk

and super clingy :(

arguments don’t happen often but when they do it ends real fast cause she knows how to calm you down 🥹🥹🥹

if anything though the arguments start cause its about something real stupid

teaches you how to play basketball if it isn’t your sport

can’t cook for SHIET!!!! burns eggs easily or somethin like that cause she can’t bring herself to learn

knows how to bake tho 100%

super adventurous

have you guys seen the pic of her zip lining… like she’s fearless when it comes to that stuff

hits the gym and weight room every fuckin day w you so she can build those arms 🤫

spots you when you think its too hard

KATE IS A MUNCH

ik y’all have seen that pussy eater jaw…

kisses are her thing as well

making out w you is the highlight of her night week day whatever!

initiates it all the time cause she knows you love it too

whines during it too me thinks…

when she needs you to shut up during it i firmly believe that she’ll kiss you to muffle the noises 😩

she isn’t straightforward but when she wants to she’ll make it obvious.

GROANER AND GRUNTERRRRR FOR SURE

cusses all the time

hard breather too

she’ll breathe out a bunch of words that you can barely hear cause of your own noises 💀 but you love hearing them cause you know she’s engaged

her strap game is crazy though i can tell…

feel like she’d sometimes just wear it for fun

she’ll wear it just for the looks and not to use it on you 😭😭

she doesn’t wanna have sex w you for her pleasure b/c during it, everything is about YOUUU

your pleasure >>>>> anything else

soft dom 100% but will also switch sometimes if thats what you’re feeling

especially after games like she loves having sex after cause she knows you’ll do everything for her

FUCKIN LOVES WHEN YOU RIDE HER ITS HER FAVORITE THING EVER

always grabbing your hips really tight when you do and theres always marks afterwards on them

and she likes seeing your face when you’re on top

missionary is her thing

eye contact during sex is important

to her at least

LOVES DIRTY TALKING

degrades you but only when you’re being cocky about something while she fucks the shit outta you

i don’t think she’d be aggressive but she’d be a lil rough when she’s upset

hickeys.

leaves marks EVERYWHEREEE

in the most visible spots so that people can see them when you two are in public

only happens during makeout seshes or when you guys are havin your own time tho

she so talks you through it.

always reassuring and asking if you feel good or not

“is this okay?” “does that hurt?” “it’s okay, baby. i’m right here, i promise” “take your time” lil things like that

praises you hella too

call me cringe or whatever

but she’ll call you a good girl if she has to…

when she eats you out she’s SOOO FOCUSED

quiet the wholeeee time but you can feel her getting all breathy against you

kisses your thighs after you cum so you know she’s still there 😞❤️

aftercare queen

she’s already cleaning you up and getting you a new pair of clothes or running a warm bath for the both of you 🥸

[ugotcooneycrossed]

keep pretending pretty girl • alessia russo

pt2: let you break my heart again

w/c: ~1.4k

alessia is adamant that shes straight, she just likes kissing you sometimes, and she just likes holding your hand, and she only likes it when you talk to her

a/n: OBVIOUSLY based off another song from the queen renee rapp

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

“i love you.”

alessia is drunk- her cheeks are flushed, and her speech is slightly slurred, she’s teetering on the edge of completely falling over, the only thing stopping her is the door she’s leaning on.

“no like- seriously, i love, love you.”

you send her a small, tight-lipped smile- your head thumping back against the mirror of the bathroom counter you’re sat on.

it’s cramped in the small room- there’s only so many things you can look at to avoid staring into alessia’s eyes.

still, you avert your eyes from hers nodding your head. gripping the cup in your hands tighter as she inches closer to you.

a tight coil snakes its way into your chest and you sigh heavily.

“i love you too less.”

it’s not a lie- far from it in fact, you love her, you have since you were seventeen.

and alessia loves you too, only in private- when no one’s looking, stealing kisses from you late at night, and leaving you as soon as the sun comes up again.

drunken confessions, promises, and pleas- swearing to love you- and only you.

it’s all in vain though, as soon as the alcohol wears off and her phone pings with a new text from her boyfriend- she’s off without another word.

“i’m going to kiss you now.”

she falls into you- her hands finding themselves on top of your thighs to balance herself, her face inches away from you.

“less… you’ve got a boyf-“

and suddenly- all you can taste is the lingering tequila on her lips, all you can smell is her strawberry perfume, and all you can feel are her hands gripping your thighs tighter.

and you kiss her back again- cause maybe you’re a little drunk too, and maybe, no matter how much you try to stop yourself, you’re pathetic, and you love alessia.

she pulls away suddenly- her lips a little swollen and a dazed look in her eyes, her eyebrow furrows in concentration before a huge grin spreads across her face.

“oh my gosh­- i love this song!”

she grabs your hand- dragging you off the counter and out the bathroom.

the flat is cramped with people- a pre-season party thrown to celebrate the start of the new season.

and everyone is way too drunk and way too far gone to notice the way alessia keeps herself attached to you.

she’s swaying with you- despite the fast pace of the song, she has you wrapped up in her arms and rocks you slowly.

“less i think it’s time for you to go home.”

“but I want to stay with you- i love you.”

she’s looking into your eyes now- genuine and raw, but you know how this will go.

she’ll come back with you.

she’ll kiss you a little more.

then, she’ll fall asleep in your bed- you’ll take the couch of course.

and then; you’ll wake up to the sound of your flat door closing, the first rays of the sun filtering through the cracks in your blinds.

you know it’s a losing battle trying to find a way to say no to her.

“okay- come on, let’s get back to mine”

-

like always you wake up just as the door closes- flopping back onto the couch with a defeated sigh.

now you know the next part will go a little something like this;

she’ll ignore you for a few days.

she’ll make a big deal of missing her boyfriend.

she’ll be on the phone to him all the time.

then, be right by your side like nothing’s happened.

she’ll invite you to hang- and you do, because of course, you can’t say no to her.

and you’ll end up third wheeling.

a vicious cycle you can’t seem to drag yourself out of.

-

it started when you followed her to UNC you think- young, dumb, naïve- and absolutely infatuate with your best friend.

best friends- who never wanted to be apart, you both turned down pro contracts to go to the US. attached at the hip, co-captains for the tar heels, you did practically everything together.

you were there for her first boyfriend, and consequently her first heartbreak.

as her best friend though.

that’s all you were- and you were okay with that, even if seeing her talk to anyone else brought a bitter taste to your mouth.

and so maybe, one night, she had a little too much to drink- and she kissed you, right on the lips.

“i think i like girls but shhhhh! you can’t tell anyone.”

she whispers it to you- before passing out on your bed.

and the next day when she wakes up- she doesn’t remember the kiss, or she wants to forget it. you wouldn’t bring it up either way.

but then it happens again, and again, and again.

and you’re sucked into an endless loop of alessia kissing you, ignoring you, then acting like nothing happened- only to kiss you again.

then, she’s off signing with united, and you with arsenal- and it stops.

then when the national team calls both of you up- it starts again.

now alessia is with arsenal- and you’re completely fucked.

-

you’re dead tired, and quiet when you show up to training a couple days after the party- unusual on any normal day, but routine after whatever it is, that happens with alessia.

the blonde girl looks up at you from her cubby when you walk into the room- but just as quickly averts her eyes, picking up her phone and slipping out the room without a second thought.

you roll your eyes at her.

you can almost predict exactly what is happening on the other side of the door.

lotte- who was there to witness the mess you were every day after alessia kissed you at UNC, nudges you.

“you know- you can like, i don’t know, talk to other girls?”

“shut up lotte.”

“i’m just saying.”

she holds her hands up in defence- but the sympathetic smile never leaves her face.

“i’ve tried- don’t you think i have?”

cause you have- really.

not that you remember their names, or their faces.

cause all you really remember from them is that their lips weren’t nearly as nice as alessias, their hands weren’t as soft, and they didn’t know where to kiss you to leave you weak in the knees.

 “let me set you up?”

narrowing your eyes at her you go to protest- but she interrupts you before you can speak.

“just try at least, take your mind off of her for one night.”

-

you arrive earlier than lotte told you to- an excuse to start drinking to calm your nerves.

the restaurant is nice- definitely somewhere for a couple to go, dim lighting and light music floating through the room.

lotte’s friend shows up when you’re already a little tipsy- sitting across from you and smiling from across the table. the conversation between you two is boring, and you stopped listening a while ago.

you order another drink, and then another- then your vision is spinning and lotte’s friend harley, or hayley, or- well you don’t exactly remember her name, ‘cause she’s starting to look a little like alessia, and you’re one more shot away from making a bad decision.

“hey (y/n)- what’re you doing here?”

and she’s starting to sound like her too?

you blink- lotte’s friend coming into focus in front of you and alessia is standing by your table.

“less?”

she’s staring at you now- eyebrows raised and nodding to the girl across from you.

you try to wrack your brain for the name- but alessia is looking a little too good right now and you’re mouth has gone a little dry.

“im lotte’s friend- grace.”

alessia hums at that- her eyes still not leaving yours.

“you are…”

grace- you now remember, questions alessia.

“alessia.”

“great- can i get back to my date now alessia.”

alessia’s eyes still haven’t left yours- she barely acknowledges your date and the atmosphere between you three is tense, you sink down into your seat, eyes flickering between the two, trying to catch your breath. 

“sure thing.”

alessia disappears- slipping away and back to what you assume is her boyfriend.

whatever her name is goes back to speaking but you can’t focus on anything.

cause alessia is here.

alessia is here- and you’re supposed to be forgetting her.

but of course- as fate would have it, the blonde texts you a moment later.

lessi to ‘you’

-> bathroom in 5??

[arminsumi]

hiii can you do #3 (car sex) with gojo?

꒰ 🍒 ꒱

𝐂𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱

GOJO Satoru ⋅ fem reader

Note: oopsie doopsie it became a fic🫠

Summary: getting stuck in the rain on the drive home from a party with your favorite enemy Gojo Satoru

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, smut, enemies-to-lovers kinda trope, hate sex, Gojo's an impliedd fvckboy, dirty jokes, Gojo being a bit of an annoying brat, pns (baby, slut, etc), drama/argument, stuck in a rainstorm trope, car sex, implied crush on Suguru, jealousy (Gojo), fingering, dirty talk, handjob (reader giving), protected sex, Suguru calling at the end 🫠, light teasing/mocking/meanness from Gojo, lmk if i have missed something, pretend u never saw any errors pls proofreading is hard 🙏😩

Wordcount ≈ 1.8k

Playme ♪ slow down

🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 — サクランボ ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !

“Shit…” he muttered under his breath, pulling the car off into an empty parking lot.

“Of course…” you sighed, sliding down the passenger seat. “Of course this would happen when you decide to drive me home. Just my luck getting stuck with the biggest asshole in the world.”

“Jesus, y’think you could be a little nicer to me baby? I offered you a drive home and this is how you treat me…? I’m heartbroken.”

You glare over the white-haired boy, wishing you could wire his stupid mouth shut.

The car turns off and the rain just pours and pours relentlessly all over it, cascading down the windshield.

How comical; two people who loathe each other, stuck in a car at night with no friends to call for help because they’re all drunk at the party.

“Well…?” you looked over at him expectantly, fingers massaging into your temple and across your brows.

“What?”

“Aren’t you gonna get out there and fix the damn tire?”

Satoru let out a chuckle. So many girls swore that their crushes on him developed because of that attractive laugh of his, but you couldn’t feel anything but annoyed by it.

“As if. It’s fucking pouring. Why don’t you get out?”

“I’m not getting wet.” You grimace.

He slipped in a dirty joke – because of course he would. “Not yet, anyways.”

“Lay one hand on me and I’ll rip you apart, Satoru!”

“Don’t say my name like that, you’re gonna make me hard.”

“Satoru!”

“Fuck baby, again.” He moaned jokingly. You were seething – seething, you were so ready to punch him.

He just chuckled, enjoying getting you riled up like it was his favorite hobby.

A moment of silence passed. You focused on the sound of the rain to mellow out.

“I’m gonna be honest, I’d let you ride.” He said suggestively.

“What the fuck!” you responded like he was crazy, but something started heating up between your legs.

“Kidding! I could have meant ride my car or something!”

“Uh, yeah right you meant it like that! Damn horny bastard…”

He clicked his tongue and stared out the window. “You’re no fun. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You look at him incredulously, your anger teetering between tame and murderous.

“I almost had a boyfriend…” you seethed bitterly, “Until you spread some insane fucking rumors that drove him away.”

“I did you a favor, that guy was a fucking loser.”

“Like you’re not!”

“Ooh, am I a contender?”

“… what?”

“You’re implying that I’m a potential boyfriend for you.”

“No I’m not! As if you’d be boyfriend material, you’re a soulless fuckboy.”

“I would prefer ‘soulful’ fuckboy because I do fuck with a lot of soul.”

“Jesus you’re ridiculous. How does Suguru put up with you.”

“Don’t say his name like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you wanna fuck him.”

“What?”

“I see the way you look at him.”

“Satoru you’re delusional. I don’t wanna fuck Suguru.”

“That’s a damn lie.”

His voice raised for a moment. A bizarre thing to witness from the most composed man on the planet; it was like witnessing an indestructible object breaking.

“Okay, let’s say it’s a lie and I actually wanna fuck him. What would it matter to you?”

“He’s my best friend, you freak.”

“Yeah so what if he’s your best friend? He’s hot.”

“You mean you would fuck him?!”

Satoru was genuinely getting angry – you weren’t sure if you were scared or turned on, it was a weird feeling. But your thighs squeezed together, and he glanced at them and took note of that.

“No, I’m just saying he’s hot.” You backtracked.

“Damn liar.”

You felt cautiously curious. “What would you do if I fucked him?”

“I’d ki- I’d be mad.” He corrected quickly.

You laughed, “You’d kill me?”

The way he was staring at you had you feeling… feeling a lot, let’s just say. His lips slightly parted, a half-incredulous and half-angry expression on his face, hints of lust in his eyes that lurked behind shades which he always kept slid halfway down his nose.

“No, I wouldn’t kill you.” He said.

You turned to face him fully, “What, you’re telling me you’d kill your best friend if he fucked me?” you asked rhetorically.

Satoru’s lack of response and annoyed jaw clench answered your question.

“That’s crazy! You must like me a hell of a lot.” You said. He felt embarrassed, he felt humiliated – that just pissed him off. “I wasn’t sure you were capable of feeling affection.” You teased.

“I don’t fucking like you.”

“Look who’s the liar now! Shall I come ride you and get the truth out of you myself?”

He stuttered and went red. The boy who was never at a loss for words stuttered because of you. The bastard who never blushed went red because of you.

Satoru shot a look your way. He was so conflicted; he wanted to yank your hair and put you in your place by spitting mean words down your throat, but at the same time he also wanted to shove his tongue in your mouth and sink his cock inside you.

“I don’t let girls ride me.” He said in a lowered tone. “I prefer being in control.”

Now the atmosphere finally changed. It was already dipping into sultry waters from the beginning, but now it plunged. Every word you and him exchanged from this point was laced with bitter lust.

“Maybe you should.” You said, leaning closer towards him. He surreptitiously leaned his elbow on the middle armrest.

“I like being in control.” He said. “Ain’t no way I’d let someone take the wheel.” He said.

Speaking of, his pretty hands were still resting atop the driving wheel. The neon glare from the shopping center signs hit the dashboard.

“… maybe you need to stop being such a control freak and let someone pleasure you.”

His pants tightened.

Satoru looked at you as if he didn’t believe what you just said. You and him bitterly flirted a few times in the past, and tonight at the party too, but it never got this far.

No, it never got this far – as far as him crashing his hungry lips on yours and you crawling over onto his lap. His annoyance and jealousy was palpable, you could taste it on his lips.

He kissed you like he fucking hated you. And he pleasured you like it too – it didn’t take long at all for him to fish out the condoms from his pocket.

“ ‘fucking hate you…” he mumbled into your mouth, tongue poking in and swirling around yours. “Hate your guts. Hate when you talk back to me. Hate that you like my best friend. Fucking slut, ‘m gonna make you forget him t’night.” Satoru promised threateningly, bringing his fingers down to toy at your clit.

“ ‘hate you too…” you whimpered weakly, losing all your dominance under the influence of his touch.

“Shut the fuck up.” He laughed, “You fucking love me. Uh-huh, keep lying, it’s fine – ‘m gonna fuck the truth out of you.” He said, turning your earlier words against you. Oh what an annoying bastard.

He felt you up like he hated how good you felt. His fingers sunk inside your little hole like he was pissed off. “So wet for me, huh?” Satoru smirked against your face.

“Fucking shut up and fuck me already I need it so bad.” You whined annoyedly.

“You don’t deserve it yet.” He seethed, coming in for another kiss – a dirty, filthy, nasty, wet French kiss. It seemed he liked how you tasted.

His fingers worked inside you so good you gushed on his lap. There was no shortage of teasing – but sometimes he threw in an odd praise comment just to stir you up. “Your pussy’s sucking my fingers in so good, pretty baby. ‘That feel good? Yeah? C’mon, tell me you like it. There, that wasn’t so hard now was it? Haha, did you just cum?”

“Satoru!” you whined into his chest, falling to pieces as you gushed around his two fingers that he kept all curled up inside, rubbing back and forth against your G-spot with his fingertips.

“Bet you never reached that deep with your own fingers, huh?” he asked, breath getting hotter.

In fact, you could feel his whole body getting hotter. The outline of his cock was so searing that you felt it through all your layers of clothes.

“Does this turn you on?” he murmured, pulling his pants down so you could take his pretty cock into your hands. “Fucking around with someone you hate? Yeah? Fuck – ahh, yeah stroke it just like that. Get my precum all over your fingers, baby, soak ‘em in it. ‘Want you to smell like my cock after we’re done.”

You pumped his cock until neither of you could wait longer – the both of you kept ripping kiss after kiss like you were starved of each other’s taste despite never having had it before. The rain barely drowned out the erotic breathing and moans that filled Satoru’s car. That stupid, pretty cock of his hit the best spots. You could feel the curve.

“Taking it so well…” he muttered into your mouth, lips glistening with saliva.

“Faster… faster please, ‘Toru fuck me like you hate me.” You begged him.

His eyes lit up.

“Y-yeah? Want me to fuck you like I hate you? Like a slut?” his lips curled into a mouthy smirk when you nodded frantically, “Alright, baby, ‘m gonna fuck that pussy like it deserves – oh fuck – ‘can feel you clinging to me – so fuckin’ tight and messy. Messy fuckin’ pussy – ‘s gonna – ‘s gonna be my pussy, yeah? Just f’me? Good.”

The windows fogged up, your hand pressing to the glass for support as your body bounced against Satoru’s. He let out a long groan and threw his head back. “Baby, ‘gonna cum.” He announced.

“Mmm! ‘yeah ‘m gonna cum too! Gonna cummm ~ ” you cried, completely dazed with pleasure and the feeling of his fat cock filling your pussy in.

“Look at me.” He commanded. “Look into my fucking eyes when you cum. There we go, rub that clit – fuck, so pretty – baby cum, cum with me – yeahhh, fuck ‘m cumming, don’t stop riding me.”

His vocals were straining. You could feel his cockhead twitch and throb.

Just when the both of you hit your highs and rubbed your sweaty bodies together, rolling them erotically, his phone went off. The caller ID showed a familiar face. Satoru composed himself, sucked in a breath, and answered the call from his best friend.

“H-hey, S’guru. Huh? Yeah I got Y/n home safe.” He said while his cock twitched inside you.

When you pressed kisses to his neck, he almost moaned. “Huh? No, no I’m fine. Why? Oh, yeah, no that’s just the rain… yeah I got Y/n home fine. Haha, okay, you do that — oh really? — uh-huh, hey I gotta go I'll call you back later, byeee!”

Satoru smiled at you like a devil, listening to the way your pussy squelched when you slid off his cock.

[suhkusa]

EGOIST 18.

PAIRING. Atsumu Miya x f!Reader

CW. plot, angst, did i say angst, betrayal

A/N. atsumu biting the curb in 4k

-> MASTERLIST.

Atsumu’s been nervous, yes. He’s also been scared. But nothing can describe the pure terror he felt in his heart when he opened up the link to gossip about you with a picture he took being the star of it.

He barely slept last night. He’s scared because things had just gotten good with you. He’s scared because how else did the media get a hold of this? He was never planning on releasing, nor does he ever remember sending it to anyone. So, why?

Atsumu is stuck where he is. He can’t move. One because you’re sleeping on him, and two because he doesn’t want to wake you up in fear of how you’ll react. He can hear your phone buzzing on the floor from when it fell.

He’s absolutely lost.

Atsumu decides it’s for the best to keep his mouth shut. To just be there for you. 

No one would ever have to know.

———

You wake up to Atsumu shaking you, “Y/N,”

You’re groggy as you open your eyes. You’re almost blinded when Atsumu shoves a phone in your face, a twitter post being left on the screen.

When you finally come to your senses and read it, you jump up.

“W-What?” you feel around your person, “Where’s my phone?” 

Atsumu is slow but he finally hands it to you. You’re frantic as you open your messages to almost 100 new notifications.

Coach Foster [7:45AM]: Stay indoors, there are paparazzi everywhere. Take care of yours…

Sissy [8:01AM]: are you okay? please call me back when you get a chance. me and mom are…

MSBY JACKALS (25 New) - Meian [8:04AM]: This is so weird, people have nothing else better….

Kiyoomi [8:07AM]: Are you okay? 

You don’t know who to answer, what to answer. This is bad, really bad. Your eyes begin to water when you look at Atsumu, dumbfounded.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” your hands are shaking, “Do I make a post or- or-”

His eyes look worried as he pulls you into a comforting hug, “It’ll be okay, alright?”

You nod into his shoulder, “Just listen to Coach for now and we’ll figure out how to settle this,”

You sigh in defeat as you shut your phone off. “This is so bad, a scandal right after you guys won, I-I’m so sorry,” you begin to cry.

“I shouldn’t have gotten so drunk, I should’ve been c-careful,” the palm of your hands dig into your eyes as you cry as if they were trying to plug the waterworks.

“It’s not your fault, there’s always journalists around trying to find their next hit story,” he comforts, hand on your back rubbing soothing circles in it.

“Just rest, I’m gonna make some breakfast,” he kisses you on the forehead before leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You snatch your phone up to look at your Instagram. There’s DMs, new followers, likes and comments. Out of nervousness, you temporarily deactivate your account. Closing out of the app. 

You’re about to click onto Twitter when a call begins to make your phone buzz. “Kiyoomi” labeled as the suspect.

“Kiyoomi?” you answered, “L-Look, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

“Why are you apologizing?” he interrupts, “It’s not your fault, alright? But are you okay?”

His voice is filled with genuinity, it somewhat calms your nerves.

“No, I’m nervous, I’m scared. What if I lose my job? What if something happens to you, I don’t know how I’d deal with that,”

There’s a pause on his end before he continues, “You shouldn’t have to worry about any of that. Coach Foster knows what happened that night and wouldn’t lay it out on either of us. Gossip on social media is out of our control,”

You sniffle in response, allowing him to continue, “Just lay low for a little bit, we already have people working on stuff behind the scenes. I only called to make sure you’re alright,”

“Thank you, Kiyoomi,” you cry, “I hope you’re alright as well, and I’m sorry again,”

“No worries, I’m glad to know you’re safe. And again don’t apologize,” Kiyoomi comforts, “I’ll see you soon alright,” 

“See you,” is what you mutter to your phone before you’re met with the sound of an ended call.

With a sigh, you fall back into the pillow and comforter of Atsumu’s bed, wallowing in your own thoughts. 

“Food is ready,” Atsumu pokes his head into the room, a white apron adorning his body.

“You look goofy,” you laugh a bit, “I’ll be right there,”

With a nod he’s whistling through the halls on his way back to the kitchen. 

Working up the energy, you force yourself up and walk with sore legs into the kitchen, finding a seat on the stool by the counter.

“How are you feeling?” Atsumu questions with a mouth of waffle, pushing a plate towards you.

“Are these Eggos?” you laugh, grabbing one with your hand and taking a bite.

“Duh, never said I was a chef,” he smirks back before finishing the one in his hand. “You didn’t answer my question, though,”

“Oh, yeah. I’m feeling somewhat better,” you start, finishing what’s in your mouth, “There’s not much I can do about it you know?”

There’s a look of relief on Atsumu’s face that confuses you but you look past it.

“Coach already knows what happened that night, and so does Kiyoomi, so there’s nothing I really have to worry about,” you sigh, finishing the waffle in a swift bite, “just gotta wait for it to die down,” 

“Mm, I see,” he grabs your plate before placing it into the sink. “That’s good then, but unfortunately for you, that just means you’re stuck with me for another day,” 

“Oh no how terrible,” you roll your eyes, pushing your chair back and hopping off of it, “I’m gonna watch TV,”

Atsumu nods at you before turning the faucet on to wash dishes.

You click some random Netflix show to play in the background as you filter out your thoughts. It feels for a while you’ve been on autopilot, but the gravity of everything is finally hitting you. It’s terrifying.

You went from hating Atsumu Miya to essentially dating him. The team you helped manage won the Division 1 Volleyball championships. And now, you’re in a dating scandal with someone you considered a close friend. 

If there was a way to put your life on pause, you would. In a heartbeat. 

A buzz on the table catches your attention. Atsumu’s phone buzzes a couple more times before halting.

The name “Angie” appears on the notifications, drawing your curiosity.

“Atsumu, who is Angie?”

You look back at where he stands in the kitchen, and he looks like he’s seen a ghost.

There’s a brief moment of silence before he snaps out of whatever trance he’s in.

“Oh, that’s my cousin,” he says, drying his hands off, “Sorry, I just haven’t, um, spoken to her in a while,”

“Ah, I see,” you put his phone down before drowning yourself back in your thoughts.

Atsumu joins you on the couch, grabbing his phone before his butt meets the cushion. He puts it on the side of the couch before wrapping a strong arm around you. 

“What show is this?”

“It’s this one show, Ginny and Georgia, terrible, but I like to experience it,” you say which he nods in response to.

“I see,” his phone buzzes again, causing him to pick it up and type a somewhat long message.

“What does she want?” you prod.

He looks down at you then back at his phone, “She’s just reaching out after some family drama,”

You mouth a silent oh before turning your head back to the TV. 

———

The 50 minute episode ends and Atsumu hasn’t gotten off his phone since then.

“Atsumu, pay attention to me,” you pout, shaking his arm.

“Fine, fine, let me send one more text,” he quickly taps his phone a couple more times before setting it down.

You smile before you hug him, earning a kiss in response.

“Ah shit, I need to piss, just give me a second, ‘kay?” you nod before he’s frantically rushing through the hallway, pants pulled down before he even reaches the bathroom door.

You laugh a bit to yourself. You reach for the remote when you see his phone light up with a new text. 

He didn’t shut it off.

You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place. You’d be lying if you said you trusted Atsumu with all your heart, but it’d kill you if you didn’t trust him and he caught you in the act of something stupid like searching through his phone.

Bzzt.

Curiosity might really be killing the cat, because you can’t help the way you look at the bathroom door then back at his phone, quickly grabbing at it and reading the most recent texts.

If you were a cat, then curiosity really did kill you. Your heart sinks at the texts between his “cousin” Angie.

Angie [10:02AM]: URE the one who took those pics. i just happened to find them

Angie [10:02AM]: who do you think uploaded that picture of sakusa n that girl? lol u can finally get ur mind off of her now

Angie [10:03AM]: what do u say? u tryna come over or what ;)

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Finally // beautiful stranger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k (including lyrics)

Warnings: angst, mostly fluff

Summary: You’ve got your heart broken once and you refuse to do it again. When a tall, green-eyed stranger walks into your life, you have to make sure he’s going to stay before letting him in completely.

Square Filled: finally // beautiful stranger by halsey (2020) for @spnsongchallengebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Your eyes, so crisp, so green Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet You got hips like Jagger and two left feet And I wonder if you'd like to meet

The only twenty-four-hour diner is across town from where you live but you find yourself in it anyway. The place isn’t busy considering it’s nearing one in the morning but you don’t want to go home. If you do, you’ll think about him and you really don’t want to cry yourself to sleep. At last here, you can compose yourself not to cry in front of people.

That, and you’re always hungry after getting your heart broken.

“Let me top your coffee off,” the waitress says and fills your cup again.

“I want another round, please. Bourbon. Neat.”

“Sure.”

When the waitress leaves, you finally notice the two men on the other side of the diner. One has his back to you but the other one is facing toward you and by God, this man is gorgeous. Even from where you’re sitting, you can see his crisp green eyes. Like candy apples. The sight makes you sad. Your ex was just as beautiful, and here you are eating your sorrows away. You look down and take a bite of your pie with a sniffle. The waitress comes back with your Bourbon, and you take a big gulp of it.

The green-eyed man says something to his friend before walking over to you.

“Are you okay?”

You down the rest of the Bourbon even though it burns. “What makes you think I’m not?”

“You’re crying.”

“Yeah, because of pig-headed men. I hate men,” you scoff and take another bite of your pie.

He chuckles not at you but at your comment. “Can I sit?”

“Sure. Want some of my pie? Alcohol fills me up and I won’t be able to eat this all.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” He takes your fork and scoops some pie onto it before eating it. “My name is Dean.”

“I hope you treat your lady better than my man did, Dean.”

“I don’t have a lady but if I did, I would.” You nod and take the fork back for another bite. “Want me to beat him up?”

Maybe it’s your drunken brain or maybe it was genuinely funny, but you laugh at the thought of your ex getting beat by some stranger.

“You might not be able to take him on. He’s pretty big.”

“You clearly have no idea who I am, sweetheart. I’ll get my brother to help.” You giggle and bite your lower lip to stop your grin from spreading too wide. “What a shame.”

“What?”

“I know I shouldn’t be hitting on you but that guy doesn’t know what he gave up.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had a woman with the most gorgeous smile. If you were mine, I’d never want to stop seeing it.”

You smile again, this time, a shy one. It makes you sad because all beautiful men are like this.

Your voice is velvet through a telephone You can come to mine, but both my roommates are home Think I know a bar where they would leave us alone And I wonder if you'd take it slow

You and Dean kept in touch after meeting him half-drunk and crying over another man, and you’re kind of nervous to let him in more. You have a daughter who you love dearly, and bringing in strangers isn’t something you want to do to her. You don’t want her getting to know someone, bond with him, only for him to leave. Her father didn't want her so how can you expect anyone else to stay?

You and Dean hang when you can, when you have someone else to watch her, but finding a sitter is hard enough as it is. You don’t make a lot of money because you depended on your ex-boyfriend for everything. You didn’t have to work when he paid for everything. You’re trying your best even if it doesn’t feel like it.

“It’s been a while since I’ve heard your voice,” Dean says over the phone.

His voice is so velvety smooth that it makes you get butterflies from words alone.

“Sorry, I’ve been a bit busy. It’s been hard to get away.”

“I get it. Look, I have some free time now. I’d like to see you.”

You think of Amelia and how you can’t leave her here alone. She’s only six, she needs someone to watch her.

“I’d love to, Dean, but I have a daughter here that I can’t leave alone. I can’t afford a sitter right now otherwise I’d say yes.”

“Right. Of course, I understand.”

He sounds disappointed. You bite your lower lip in thought. Your sister lives a few houses down from you. If she says yes, you can leave and hang with Dean at a bar or something. You don’t want him coming here. As much as you like him, you’re not ready for Amelia to meet him.

“Let me ask my sister if she can watch her. I’ll text you if I can or not.”

“If you can, I’ll be at Joe’s. I hope to see you there.”

You immediately dial your sister because it’s a lot harder for her to say no to you over the phone rather than text.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Okay, don’t say no right away. Just listen to me.”

“You want me to watch Amelia?”

“Just for a little bit. Maybe a couple of hours. I met this guy. His name is Dean.” You hear her sigh which makes you pause. You know this sigh. It’s a disappointed sigh. “Jess, it’s not what you think.”

“You just broke up with Trevor how long ago? You already met someone?”

“It’s not like I’m going to marry him. I just… I can’t explain it. He’s nice…”

“Trevor was nice.”

“Jess, please? Just a couple of hours. I’ll pay you if you want.”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” she sighs. “Fine, I’ll watch her only for two hours.”

“You got it. Thank you.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing. I’d hate to see you hurt over yet another guy.”

Trust me, me too. After she comes over, Amelia is happy to see her aunt. Joe’s is only ten minutes from your place, and you text Dean you’ll be right there. He’s in the back playing with darts when you arrive, and you head over with a smile.

“I’m glad you could make it.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“So, you have a daughter?”

“Yeah, her name is Amelia. She’s my pride and joy. My ex was her father, and you know that didn’t end too well. I’d have you come over but I don’t want her meeting someone still so new, you know?”

“Yeah. I get it. Trust me.”

“I like you, Dean. I just need to take it slow.”

“Whatever you need to feel safe.”

Just like that, you fall for him a bit more.

I grab your hand and then we run to the car Singin' in the street and playin' air guitar Stuck between my teeth just like a candy bar And I wonder if it goes too far to say

After two months of dating, you decide it’s best if he gets to meet Amelia. You’re not sure if it’s going to crash and burn or work out but you have to put faith in this decision. Dean has been nothing but good to you, so you’re taking the chance he’ll love your daughter. Amelia knows you’ve been seeing someone. She’s not stupid. She’s a very smart six-year-old--too smart for her own good.

“Dean is almost here.”

“Do you like him, Mommy?”

“I do,” you smile.

Amelia shrugs and goes back to coloring. Dean shows up in his gorgeous Impala that you love riding in. He even let you drive it once which was thrilling. You leave Amelia coloring in the living room to greet Dean at the door. He keeps the kiss short and sweet knowing your daughter is here. You turn to let him in when you see your daughter standing right behind you with her hands on her hips.

“Hi, you must be Amelia. My name is--”

“Are you gonna break my Mommy’s heart like Daddy did?”

You’re taken aback by the question. Dean doesn’t seem scared by her sass, in fact, he encourages it.

“No, I won’t.”

“You better not, mister. I know how to fight.” Dean can’t help but laugh. “You better be a good one.”

“Okay, why don’t you go play in your room.” Amelia leaves without another word, and you close the front door with an apologetic face. “I’m sorry about her. It’s been rough lately.”

“She’s a cute kid. I know we agreed to stay in tonight, but what do you say I take you and Amelia out? Maybe to a zoo? I bet she’d love seeing the animals.”

You look out the window and see his shiny black car. You love his car but it’s not suitable for Amelia.

“You know I love your car, but there are no seatbelts. I am not putting my baby in a car with no seatbelts.”

“Yeah, okay,” he nods.

You two settle on the couch and put a movie on that you both love. Within the first act, he pulls you into him and wraps his arm around you. You should be happy, and you’re trying really hard to be, but Trevor behaved the exact same way. He was so nice and loving in the beginning but he let his true colors show later on. Had you not run when you did, you would have had bruises on your body from him.

Still, through all that fear, you can’t seem to stay away from Dean.

I've never recognized a purer face You stopped me in my tracks and put me right in my place Used to think that lovin' meant a painful chase But you're right here now and I think you'll stay

It’s been a week since Dean promised to take you and Amelia to the zoo. He promised to have a car that is safe enough for your daughter, so you’re not sure if that means upgrading the Impala or getting another car altogether. Dean loves his car so you don’t think he’d give up his precious car for you.

“Amelia, are you ready?”

“Yes!”

“Are you excited?”

“I can’t wait to see the lions, Mama! And the giraffes!”

“If you’re lucky, you might get a kiss from a giraffe.”

Amelia giggles as you help put her shoes on.

“I hope you keep this one. I like him.”

“I like him, too.” Then again, I liked the other one. A car you don’t recognize pulls up to your house, and you take two steps outside to see who it could be. Dean exits and smiles when he sees your confused face. He’s not driving his beloved Impala. He’s driving a new version of a Dodge Ram. “Whose car is that?”

“Mine. I bought it yesterday.”

“Why?”

“It has seatbelts.” Your heart melts a bit. “Now I can take Amelia out without you worrying about her safety. I hear this is a really good car.”

“You’d do that for her?”

“I’d do that for you.”

You want to move toward him and kiss him but you’re stuck. You can’t move. You’re shocked because Trevor would have never done this for you or Amelia. He loved driving sports cars that were never safe for children, and he refused to get a car that could support her.

Dean might be a keeper.

Oh, we're dancin' in my livin' room And up come my fists And I say, I'm only playing, but The truth is this I've never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss And I'm terrified, but the truth is this I said Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms and I know That beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong And I hope Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms And I think it's finally, finally, finally, finally, finally safe For me to fall

Amelia is sleeping but you and Dean wanted to have date night. Your sister isn’t in town to watch her and you didn’t want to take her to a bar at such a late hour. Dean offered to bring the date to you, which is why you two are slow dancing in your darkened living room. The only source of light is the candles you lit prior to him coming.

Soft rock flows through your speakers at a low tone so as not to wake Amelia, but Dean doesn’t mind. Dean runs his hands down your waist and grips your hips gently, and you lean up to press your lips against his. You’ve never felt this way about anyone, not even Trevor. He says all the right things, does all the right things, and knows exactly how to make your heart flutter.

You’re still terrified but it’s a good terrified. You’re scared of what this could mean, not that he could break your heart.

You pull away from him and stare into his beautiful green eyes.

“Don’t make me regret falling for you,” you whisper.

He leans his forehead on yours.

“I won’t.”

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[awyeahitssam]

Harry giggles. His limbs feel lighter than usual, almost as if bubbles are making them float a bit. He can still control them, but it's a vague, interesting sort of control. Fun.

Harry lets sleep take him. The world whirls around him in sparks of disorienting colours, and Harry watches with a broad smile. It should make him dizzy, but he feels in the middle of something fantastic—a watercolour painting come to life. It's brilliant. Elating.

It stops as suddenly as it starts. Voldemort stares at him from across a desk. "Harry Potter," he sounds almost surprised.

Harry blinks at him. He still feels light, like he is floating, but also distantly sad. "Are you okay?" he asks thoughtlessly.

Confusion masks itself behind anger. Voldemort masks everything behind anger. "Pardon?"

"I’d never felt as good as I did a moment ago," Harry confesses, drawing closer to the Dark Lord. Red eyes track him suspiciously. Harry's chest aches. "But now, looking at you… it makes me so sad."

Thoughtlessly, Harry reaches out, and Voldemort lets him. It’s how Harry knows this can’t be real. That it’s just a silly, drunken dream. Their fingers intertwine, though Voldemort’s hand remains stiff and cold in his gentle grip.

"Aren’t you lonely?" Harry wonders. "Is that yours I feel pressing in, or my own? Even without you," Harry smiles, crooked and small, brushing an irreverent thumb over his scar, "I’m sure it’d be there. People always isolate the freak."

Voldemort’s hand twitches in Harry’s, and he hums, focus dropping from red eyes to trace the long fingers with his own.

"Everybody’s frightened of you. You isolate yourself from friendship, from love, from time itself... don’t you want, Voldemort? I can feel that you do—you’re never satisfied, are you? Will it ever be enough? The world at your feet, no attachments, nobody to challenge you—is that your dream, or your nightmare?"

"You’re speaking nonsense, boy," Voldemort says, but it comes out odd. Stilted. "You presume much."

"Is it presumption when I feel you?" Harry asks genuinely, brows drawing together, hand lifting to press over his heart. Voldemort is dragged with him, pulled a bit over the desk, and Harry blinks in surprise before realizing he still has a grip on the other’s hand. He lets go slowly, and Voldemort pulls back with a scowl.

"You are drunk," the wizard snaps with disgust. "You know nothing of what Lord Voldemort feels."

Harry finds the words… annoying.

"You feel so loudly, though," he returns sharply, moving forward, sliding onto Voldemort’s desk. Ink spills over—Voldemort hisses in annoyance and the stain is gone with a thought—dreams are a magic of their own—Voldemort’s forehead is cold and smooth. Harry bears the man's mark. He presses his scarred head to the smooth. Long, clawed fingers are wrapped around his wrist. His throat.

"Right here, always pressing in," Harry continues, heedless of his position, precarious as it is. "You feel so much it hurts, Voldemort. You hate so much. You’re never just happy. And I was, am, could be. So just take some, won’t you?"

Red eyes are narrow, intent, fascinated as they dart over Harry’s face, trying to gather his meaning. "How do you propose I do that?"

"How does one normally take pleasure?" Harry wonders. Voldemort grimaces, pulling away quickly, and it takes Harry’s bubbling mind a moment to put what he said to context.

"No," he chokes on a laugh, "I’m not asking you to—to snog. To fuck. Just open yourself up. You’re so good at taking, usually, but all you’re doing is giving. Don’t you want to feel like this? Light? Thrilled?"

"You don’t even know what you sound like, do you?" The question is rhetorical. Voldemort’s hand tightens over his throat, until Harry’s breathing grows thinner. "You wish for me to let your happiness pass my Occlumency, as though you have not just slipped through yourself. As if you have no method to make Lord Voldemort feel your pleasure; as if you want to give Lord Voldemort pleasure at all."

Harry touches the hand on his neck, slowly tightening with Voldemort’s rant, and a spark lights his fingers. Voldemort’s hand spasms before it drops. Harry takes a deep breath, glaring balefully. His light-hearted air has faded.

"Perhaps I would give you pleasure so your misery would be all the worse for it," he bites out. The world is fuzzy, but no longer from alcohol. From being choked. Even in his dreams, his life is threatened by this man.

"A pretty plot," says Voldemort. There is something very condescending in his voice; he is clearly looking down on Harry. Doubting him. It’s nothing new, but it makes the sting of anger grow in him. "Very well. If you can conjure happiness as you peer into the face of your death, Harry Potter, then do. Make me feel it, if you can."

Harry’s nails bite into his palm and release. He takes a breath and lets his eyes flutter closed. He focuses.

Happiness. What does it feel like? Like floating, as he was moments ago, or like getting an anticipated hug—not his first, not all the ones he flinched away from, but a hug from Hermione when they’ve almost just died. An arm around Ron’s waist as the boy drapes one around his shoulder. Laughing, hysterical and joyous, by the fireplace. Finding his wand. Finding out he was escaping the Dursleys. Happiness is a brief thing, drenched in the shadows of his life. Happiness is contentment, even if it is a momentary thing. It is the pleasure of a perfectly prepared cuppa; from—nonono, not going there.

Harry wraps the sensations up, one by one, like he’s re-wrapping hard candy, and throws them at Voldemort. Into Voldemort. All but one—his favourite one, his happiest one. That, he grasps, and it’s actual candy in his hand, a sweet that he looks down to, and then unwraps, and he’s moving forward, intent eyes raising, and Voldemort is already gasping, a bit, at the suddenness of it all—of pleasure.

Harry’s lips curl and he pushes the candy into the slightly agape mouth of the Dark Lord a bit cruelly, shoving it deep. He pulls back quickly, before sharp teeth can gnash on his fingers, and watches on as Voldemort experiences pleasure. As Voldemort softens, and sighs, relaxation in every hard line of him, mouth sucking almost greedily around the treasure that Harry has placed within it. Now he’s drunk on it, Harry thinks, horribly pleased to see Voldemort this way.

It’s not real, but still, he hovers on Voldemort’s desk and observes the pink brushing his cheekbones with fascination. He observes the way red eyes roll back a bit, and the way a long, pale throat swallows convulsively down on a slowly dissolving candy until there is nothing left.

Lashless eyes open, dark and suddenly staring. Red barely peeks out from behind the dilation of his pupil, and Harry’s smile is a smug thing.

“There’s your pleasure,” Harry whispers to him, like a secret. “I hope you enjoyed yourself. It can only get worse from here.”

“Worse?” murmurs Voldemort, staring at Harry intently. “You think there is worse you can do, Harry, then give me that and take it back?”

Belonging, thinks Harry, quite suddenly. He’d given Voldemort his favourite thing, the thing that he had been looking for, for a very long time. Longing, and peace, and laughter, and a burgeoning happiness that had very rarely managed to emanate past its conception. He had given Voldemort, too, his desperate hope for things to get better—and then he’d made them get better—and now Voldemort had lost it all.

Suddenly, impossibly, Harry’s eyes are liquid. I’m cruel, thinks Harry, gaze falling from red. There is nothing so cruel as what he has done, and he had done it so carelessly, so happily, so smugly, because he had felt slighted. Had felt wronged by this man who had ceaselessly wronged him.

Slowly, Harry looks back up at Voldemort, who is watching his tears with an expression of keen interest. 

“Has it made you sad to give your enemy your pleasure, Harry Potter?” Voldemort asks, gripping his wrist and drawing him near enough that Harry barely keeps his bottom on the desk rather than Voldemort’s lap.

“It makes me sad to treat you with such cruelty,” Harry corrects, “when I know you will never allow yourself to experience such pleasure again.”

“Would I not?” breathes Voldemort, eyes still dark instead of bright.

“You won’t,” whispers Harry. “It'd require you to trust someone. To have faith in them. And that, I know you’re incapable of, because you are a man but don’t see yourself as one, and gods do not have friends, nor equals.”

“Equals?” Voldemort’s breath brushes Harry’s brow, his stinging scar. “But what if Lord Voldemort were to draw you from the depths, Harry? Raise you from the pale mortality until you, too, are exalted? Then you may give Lord Voldemort what he so deserves; give me pleasure, Harry Potter,” Voldemort enunciates awfully. “Give me it all.”

I wrote this one of the first times I ever drank, and just expanded upon it a bit. I'm honestly really fond of finding these little things I've forgotten.

[bambidixon]

Beth and Daryl are a mirror of each other

They both handle trauma in a similar way—they just brush it aside.

When Zach died, Daryl went to tell Beth, expecting her to be upset. Instead, she simply says, "I don't cry anymore." Once again, she's the one comforting others—in this case, Daryl. In a vulnerable moment, he admits he's tired of losing people, and she handles it with such grace. I love how she always finds a way to make others feel better, even if it means pushing down her own feelings to take care of the people she loves

When everyone in the prison gets sick, there's a moment between Maggie and Beth. Maggie is clearly upset, but Beth says, "We don't get to be upset." She talks about how everyone has a job to do, trying to comfort Maggie and keep her strong. But beneath the surface, Beth isn't fully confronting her own emotions. She feels like she has to be okay because her dad asked her to be, and because there are people—like Judith and Maggie—depending on her to hold it together.

Now, Daryl, in many ways, handles things similarly. In an earlier episode, when the council was discussing the virus outbreak in the prison, it’s clear that Daryl is upset. He genuinely cares about the people living there. Carol notices this and asks if he's okay, and his response is, "Gotta be." He knows that others are relying on him, on his strength to get through the situation.

Later, when Rick tells him that he asked Carol to leave the prison, Daryl is visibly upset. For a moment, it seems like he might explode, but he doesn't. He holds it in because he knows Rick needs him to stay calm and focused. Daryl often brushes aside his feelings as a way to remain strong and protect himself.

These moments from Season 4, just before Daryl and Beth escape from the prison together, seem totally planned.

On the road together, Daryl comes close to confronting his trauma, but instead, he dedicates himself solely to surviving. Beth, similarly, refuses to fully feel her emotions, choosing instead to stay optimistic. She acts like the naïve teenager she is, trying to control something—deciding, for example, that she's just going to get drunk as a way of coping.

They don’t talk much, but they fight a lot because they both refuse to face the elephant in the room. They’ve already made up their minds about each other, constantly judging each other's way of coping. But when they finally confront it and set aside their judgments, they’re able to face the pain and move forward.

They share a moment of understanding, Beth comforts him and Daryl finally allows himself to be vulnerable and the feel pain of losing his family, from that they can see each other truthfully. I’m convinced they have a beautiful relationship built on mutual admiration. I love them so much! They help each other deal with some of the worst moments in their lives.

Honestly, I could talk about them forever. I've said it a thousand times, and it's true I still feel like I haven't say enough

[your-unfriendlyghost]

I have two things to ask:

1.-Can we be friends?

2.-Do you have any Outsiders headcanons (or any that you haven't submitted yet)?

I mean sure?? Idk who you are since you’re on anon, so not REALLY, but I’m always down to talk!

2. Yeah lol- tons. Too many. Here’s a few (okay like 25 oops) off the top of my head lol, some serious/angsty and some lighthearted/kinda stupid without any real order. (Lotta ‘em are about Steve tbh -there’s so little to him in canon that I have the freedom to hc pretty much whatever I want)

Steve Randle’s nearsighted and has no idea, which is why he’s literally always squinting. (I’ve had that one for like months but only recently mentioned it on here lol.) Steve thinks his vision is completely normal

Dally and Sylvia genuinely cared for each other, but they were both so horrible at having healthy emotions that they just made each other worse. In a bad way, not a fun way.

When Steve gets kicked out, sometimes he hangs with Johnny in the lot. They don’t really talk about anything important like their shared experiences of having lousy parents. Instead they talk about cars, girls, music, school…lighthearted stuff. Sometimes Johnny will find Steve crying, which he never mentions- he’ll just sit down as per usual, which Steve appreciates. Steve almost never finds Johnny crying though. Johnny doesn’t cry much.

Okay tangent- I love how Steve and Johnny are low-key foils. Like Steve always seems tough but then cries when pushed to his limit, while Johnny always seems skittish until he’s under a bunch of pressure- in which case he suddenly is confident. (Not necessarily thriving obviously, but confident yk? Like grinning while saving those kids in the fire.) I know SE Hinton probably didn’t intend that at all, but it’s just such an interesting detail to me. One of these days I’ll put it into words better

Johnny’s jeans-jacket is a hand-me-down from either Steve or Two-Bit. (I can’t decide which lol) (obviously Dally would make sense too, but honestly I think it’d add more depth to flesh out Johnny’s relationships with the other members of the gang)

After the events of the book, Two-Bit starts hanging around the Curtis’s place even more. At first the gang assumes he’s trying to lighten the mood. It’s only after he gets sent to the cooler for a month due to drunk driving that they realize he was actually hanging around so much because he was trying to keep his kid sister from seeing him so drunk…

Two-Bit likes to joke that he keeps failing junior year so that him and his sister can graduate together. Which is a very bad idea since his sister is a year younger than Ponyboy.

Sodapop often feels like he’s only good for looking pretty and not all that useful or interesting otherwise. He likes himself, but when he stops to think about it too much, he starts to wonder if he really has anything going for him at all

My H/C for Steve’s home life is that his Mom is sick w/ like cancer or something. Before she got sick, Steve’s life was pretty alright for an eastsider- he and his dad fought, but they always made up for the most part. They weren’t perfect, but they loved each other. But after she got sick, she wasn’t there to mediate between Steve and his Dad anymore, and the fighting got worse and worse. And then Steve’s dad started drinking more and it was pretty downhill from there. Steve’s Dad still loves him, but sometimes Steve wishes that he didn’t. If he didn’t, then he could hate him. But his dad does love him, so he can’t get himself to.

Steve and Dally taught Johnny to drive when they were all like fourteen-fifteen-ish. Johnny is a very reckless driver. He loves speeding.

Johnny also loves fast roller coasters and stuff.

Dally doesn't ‘cuz he’s low-key scared of heights- he likes riding broncos and rodeos, but put him at the top of a roller coaster and he’s convinced that it’s gonna break and he’s gonna die. He pretends he doesn’t mind. The only people who know he’s scared of them are Johnny, and before she died, Mrs. Curtis.

Steve has a napoleon complex. Johnny, who is shorter than him by a few inches, likes to bully him for it sometimes

Ponyboy and Cherry don’t interact much in the school year after the book, but in the summer after, they start to hang out. Eventually they become pretty close. They fangirl over Paul Newman together

Ponyboy still doesn’t let Cherry read his theme though until years later

Marcia and Two-Bit re-meet a few months after the book. (Two-Bit is really scared that she’s embarrassed to be dating him, and Marcia is really scared that he’s embarrassed to be dating her. Neither of them are embarrassed. They both adore each other.)

Two-Bit likes to watch Marcia barrel racing. One time while he’s there, he runs into Ponyboy watching Cherry barrel race and immediately tells everyone much to Pony’s chagrin

Evie knows a little bit about cars, and she sometimes helps out at the DX during summers. Steve is so whipped for her lol (and Soda too Steve has two hands)

Evie and Sylvia are besties, but Steve and Sylvia hate each other. They act civil in front of Evie, but as soon as her back is turned they’re growling at each other like dogs. (Well Steve is. Sylvia just acts condescending as hell. Sometimes it goes over his head, so Steve knows she’s insulting him but isn’t sure what the insult is/means. Which makes Steve kinda want to kill her.)

Steve and Soda are low-key co-dependent. (Steve more so- Soda has his family at least, while to Steve, Soda and Evie are his whole world pretty much) It’s probably not super healthy, and both of them are vaguely aware of that, but are trying not to think about it too hard rn

Ponyboy’s friend group in high school consists of Curly Shepard, Mark Jennings, Scout Jenkins (from the tv show), and eventually, in her senior year, Cherry Valance. (There’s others too but those are the main ones.)

Pony dates Cathy Carlson for a while too, idk if they’re good for each other or not- I kinda like the idea of them being a sweet couple tbh, but no one else on here seems to care about them so I haven’t really explored the idea much lol

In a Dally lives au, Mark Jennings and Dally end up spending a bit of time together through Pony, and at some point they realize that they’re half-brothers lol. Mark is a deeply obnoxious little brother to have, and he drives Dally nuts on purpose. Weirdly I think Dally’s a relatively good influence on him, as much as someone like Dally can be. And Dally does care for Mark, though not as much as he cares for Johnny- Mark is, in his head, not exactly his responsibility.

Well I have (so many) more, but I think that’s enough for now lol. Point is, even though I haven’t drawn in a minute, I love these characters and their romanticized version of 1960s Tulsa so much and I think about them way too often lol

(dw once i get more into the swing of school I’ll be doin more art!)

[imaginesbymonika]

Futile Devices | Part 2

Pairing: Noel Gallagher x childhood-best friend!reader

Plot: There's nothing quite like realizing your feelings once it's too late. But what would life be without a speck of hope?

Previous part

(1990)

You always loathed clubbing. There was just something about the combination of a crowded space with loud music and the heinous smell of alcohol mixed with puke that sickened you to the bone. And you didn’t understand why it didn’t disgust most people. Your best friend Noel, happened to be one of those.

“Well, you do like going to concerts.”, he argued, observing your every move while getting dressed. You had no idea when this ritual of getting ready together started, but you didn’t really mind it. A soft sigh left your lips:” That’s just different. I go to concerts where I enjoy the music. I get what I paid for.” He only nodded.

You swallow (more than) thickly, while you make your way through the crowd towards the club toilet. The impulse to vomit just got too much. Not because you’re intoxicated, but because someone who stood very close to you puked right in front of your feet. The light at the end of the tunnel (which in this case happened to be pink and purple) came into sight and you let out a relieved sigh. However when someone grasps you by your upper arm you almost fall to your knees.

You instantly turn your head after managing to stabilize yourself and make eye contact with a very, very drunk man. Fear builds itself up in your stomach while you realize that his head is coming closer. You desperately want to take a step back, however, when your bare back comes into contact with the stony wall your eyes widen. You’re trapped, while his fingers dig themselves into the flesh of your arm.

“Oi. Sweetheart.”

For a second you consider vomiting into his face, however, before you can do anything there’s a fist colliding with his cheekbone. A small shriek escapes your lips while Noel steps into view. “You twat!”, he shouts over the unbelievably loud music:” I am going to kill you.” There’s something in his eyes that implies, that he might actually do it, considering the smell of alcohol that envelops him like an aura field.

„Noel!“, you say, clearly your throat before repeating it louder. He stares down at the man, who is sitting on the floor holding a tooth in between his fingers:“ If you touch her again, I swear to God I will kill ya.“ Whenever he got angry, his accent came out. And right now his accent has never been denser. „Let’s leave, Noel.“, your hand moves up to softly shake his shoulder and it’s only when you two finally make eye contact that his gaze softens. He nods. You quickly take his hand before guiding him through the mass towards the exit.

As soon as the big metal door falls shut behind you, you can hear his soft and husky voice:” Are you okay?” His hand is still in yours, holding on to it tightly, while his gaze roams your features - revealing nothing but genuine concern layered with something more. You can only nod before you let go of him to take your pack of cigarettes out of your purse. Out of the corner of your eye, you can catch a glimpse of how he looks down at his now empty hand.

With slightly shaky hands you place one cigarette in between your lips. “Y/N.”, he suddenly lets out:” I’m sorry. I should’ve been there to protect you.”

“But you did.” “Not quick enough.”

A sigh leaves your lips. “You know, I am always-.”, he stops talking and his eyes anxiously roam the street, it’s almost as if he’s attempting to figure out what he wants to say:” I’m always looking out for you, I just want you to know that.”

You nod and he mirrors it. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Want to go home?”

“Yes, please.”

[miupow]

[duality.] - huening kai. [PART 3] [TEASER]

[ kai kamal huening x fem!reader ] ❝Monday comes far too fast for your liking, and now you're in Hueningkai's bed. It was time to learn how much of a Not-Virgin he is.❞

WARNINGS: smut, NSFW, MDNI! (no smut in the teaser), hard dom!hueningkai, sub!reader, f2l, graphic depictions of rough sex and BDSM, spanking, pussy slapping, handcuffs and bondage, sex toys (paddles), degredation kink, pet names, sir kink, praise kink, condoms mention, unprotected sex, size kink if you squint, vaginal fingering, piv sex, possessive!kai, choking/breath play, hair pulling, fluffy ending hehe WORDS: (for the teaser) ~700

want to be notified when duality is posted? join the taglist for duality part three here!

You’ve never seen him this embarrassed before, avoiding your eyes with puffed-out cheeks and a pink face; it was a cute look on him. “I thought you knew I was coming.”

“Well..” he cringes, fiddling with the headphones still in his hands. His face looked even redder. “I… I kind of thought you weren’t going to.” 

“Why wouldn’t I come? I told you I’d be here.” you ask, cock your head at him, watch as he turns his console off and places his headphones down on his desk. He seemed nervous and disoriented, like he really wasn’t prepared for any of what he had talked about salaciously into your ear Friday night; you felt silly, suddenly, dressed up and standing expectantly in his bedroom. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken him so seriously. This didn’t seem at all like the man who had you pinned against a brick wall and begging for it just a few nights ago, and instead much more like the shy and gentle Hueningkai you knew much, much better. 

“I thought I scared you..” Kai admits with a fake, humorless laugh, his wobbly smile quickly folding down into a grimace as he sinks further into his chair. “This is usually the part where I scare people. They were only half-joking about the whole ‘running away screaming’ thing, you know.”

Your own frown deepens, unsure of what to do or what to say as you watch him pick at his sweatpants, continue to refuse to look you in the eye as he rocks himself back and forth with the swivel of his chair. “I mean, I’m not angry about it, obviously.” he continued, fluffy blond bangs hanging over his face as he stared at the floor. “That would be stupid. A lot of people don’t like this stuff, and that’s fine. I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. It’s okay if I scared you, it really is. I’m sorry I came on so strong Friday, it was a bad idea and I shouldn’t have done it and I was drunk–”

Kai looks up at you for the first time in a while, big brown eyes watery behind his bangs and breaking your heart– he looked so truly guilty, like he had been beating himself up over this for days. Like he had spent the entire weekend pacing and tearing himself to shreds just as you had. You wish he had said something sooner, so you could have told him earlier that he didn’t do anything that you didn’t like, that he startled you but in a way that awakened something in you that you didn’t even know that you had. You wish you had the courage to tell him that he could have done whatever he wanted that night and you would have let him, because while this new side to him made you nervous it didn’t scare you. Hueningkai could never scare you.

It hits you then that there really wasn’t another secret, darker alter to Hueningkai, some frightening Jekyll and Hyde dynamic that your friends had placed into your head. Kai was always Kai, your sweet, perfect, nervous, nerdy, awkward Kai, even when he was saying the nastiest things you had ever heard in your life, and you felt very terrible very suddenly that you had ever doubted your trust in him.

“You don’t scare me, Kai.” You say simply, because you couldn’t get yourself to say anything else. The genuinely shocked look on Kai’s face at your words makes your chest ache.

“Really?” He asks just above a whisper. “I didn’t scare you?”

“No, I… I liked it.” You admit, face heating up. “I liked it, and I want more.”

Kai’s big puppy eyes change in an instant; suddenly he was gazing up at you like a predator, big brown eyes slanted and dark, dripping with a hunger you were frighteningly unfamiliar with. The sudden shift takes you by surprise, ignites a delicious fire in your belly. “Okay then.” Kai says slowly, taking his time easing out of his chair. You don’t miss the big, dizzying bulge in his sweats when he stands up. “Then let’s talk.”

[thaliagracesgf]

i hail a cab with a goat, and make some questionable decisions at a party

next

author’s note: i want to make it, like, really, really, clear that this is not a fic glorifying sa or being a victim. what the reader goes through here is a horrible experience, one that’s happened to me and countless other women (and other people!!). this fic is for anyone who, in the words of rachel sennot in bottoms, has been “gray-area-d,” and felt completely lost afterwards, not knowing how to feel or what to think. this is one example of how you deserved to have been treated, and i’m sorry if this or something similar wasn’t your experience. 

content warnings: sexual assault (not graphic and not by luke! r is sort of tied down and has their shorts undone), violence (luke is not happy about this situation), alcohol (r is drunk), talking about it afterwards?, talking about monsters (on a regular pjo level), swearing. 

word count: 6.6k. i had a lot to say. so sorry.

this is the first fic i have written in a while, i hope you enjoy it!

⭑

seven a.m. in the camp half-blood dining pavilion saw the same faces every morning. you, silena beauregard, clarisse larue, and annabeth chase. your little group of friends spanned six years, at seventeen, fourteen, thirteen, and eleven, and your best friend, who had been off at college all year, made it eight. 

you didn’t remember becoming friends with silena and clarisse, although you figured hannah, your best friend and silena’s older half-sister, must have introduced you, and clarisse came along with her. 

you had met annabeth and hannah when you were just thirteen, when you had followed a friend to connecticut in the middle of pre-algebra. 

“do you understand any of this?” you whispered to grover. he gave you a look as if he had never seen a fraction before last week, and you sighed. your teacher, a kind old woman named ms. lucy, gave you a look. when she gave the class a new problem to work through, she came and knelt by your desk, looking over your shoulder at what you had managed so far. which was a whole lot of nothing, unless you included a sketch of grover that would make picasso proud. you shrunk sheepishly in your chair. 

you looked to your right, as if trying to see how bad it really was compared to your model, but he was gone. you turned back to ms. lucy. 

“did you see grover leave?” 

“hmm?”

“grover. did he go to the bathroom?”

“i assume so, dear. if you convert the decimal—" but grover’s things were gone. you felt terrible. you knew you were a terrible student, and ms. lucy was so kind to you anyways, but it wasn’t like grover to walk out of class like that. he was terrified of authority.

“i have to go,” you mumbled to ms. lucy, throwing your things in your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “stomachache.” 

she looked genuinely concerned. “would you like me to let the nurses know you’re coming?”

“no… no. that’s okay.” and you ran out the door. 

it wasn’t too hard to find grover. he was sitting in an empty classroom just a few doors down, but what was weirder was that he was watching a video on the projector. weirder still, he was talking to it. you knew it was rude to eavesdrop. it didn’t stop you from doing it. 

“chiron, i can’t just leave. she’s here, and she’s in danger. she needs a protector. anything could come for her at any moment—" was he talking about you? 

a deep voice over the projector, whose face you could hardly make out through the low-quality image, answered: “i will inform her mother and she will go home. she will stay there until we can send gleeson to collect her and—"

“why can’t you send gleeson for these kids?” 

“he’s too far, it would take him a day at least to reach them. i already told you, this was a request from hermes himself. he wants his son and his friends collected as soon as possible, and—" 

who the hell was gleeson? and hermes… who names their kid after a greek god? at least choose one with a better name than hermes. it sounded like a disease. your mother had named your brother after some greek hero, but he didn’t go by it. and at least it was, like, a human name. 

“he’s the god of travelers.” you were starting to worry that grover might be on drugs. what on earth had they put in those enchiladas at lunch? “can’t he get him, like, a car? a day could be too long for—"

“grover.” the voice boomed. that shut him up. “you will go. you will escort the son of hermes, the daughter of athena, and the daughter of zeus to camp, and then you may return to the city. this is not up for discussion.” you were really starting to think that the booming voice might have been two booming voices, but the door was closed and the audio was already crackly, so you decided it didn’t really matter. 

you heard grover’s voice say, “alright,” defeated and almost mournful, and then the message cut off. your eyes widened as you realized that grover would probably step outside any second, and you would have no excuse as to what you were doing with your ear to the wall. you turned slowly, and winced as your shoe squeaked on the linoleum floor. you started speedwalking. no sense in trying to hide anymore, you were just interested in getting as far away as possible before-

“oh, gods.” grover’s voice echoed between cinder block walls and metal lockers. “how much did you hear?”

you turned, your fingers nervously twisting the straps of your backpack. “i mean. not everything. just. you know.”

“almost everything?”

“yeah.”

“this is not good. this is really not good.” grover wasn’t talking to you anymore. he was pacing the short ways of the corridor, head in his hands, muttering to himself. “my first mission and i’ve already messed it up completely.” 

“how could you have messed it up completely? you haven’t even met these kids yet.”

“oh, gods,” grover groaned.

“woah, dude. are you like, hindu or something?”

“what?”

“you said gods. plural. i read this book—"

“okay,” grover interrupted. “you need to go home.” 

“okay. that was rude. also, it’s like the middle of the day. my mom’s at work and my stepdad will kill me if i come home early.”

“your stepfather. perfect. just climb in the back window of your room, and when your mom gets home, tell her that chiron says you need to go to camp immediately.”

“what? what the hell are you talking about? who— is that who you were talking to on the phone?”

“what?”

“the phone call. the one you were mad at me for overhearing…”

“okay. first of all, that was not overhearing, that was eavesdropping. second of all, i’m not mad. this just complicates things slightly. third of all—"

“dude, you need to—" grover glared at me, and i shut up. 

“third of all,” he repeated, “that wasn’t a phone call. it was an iris message.”

“a what?”

“nevermind. not important. ask about it at camp.”

“why do you keep talking about a camp? i haven’t been to camp since music camp in second grade, and they don’t want me back. i was really, really, bad at the recorder.”

“you played the recorder?” grover looked suddenly very interested. “nevermind. you need to go home.”

“dude. i’m telling you, i. can’t.” 

“you have to—"

“take me to connecticut,” you suggested. 

“what?”

“isn’t that where you’re running off to?”

“you can’t come to connecticut with me—"

“why not? you seemed pretty adamant on the phone—"

“iris message”

“that you needed to be with ‘her’. based on how insanely you have freaked out, i’m guessing that was me. so take me with you.”

“i know you have no idea what is going on right now—"

“thank you for finally acknowledging that important part of this conversation.”

“- but taking you to connecticut would be an astronomically bad idea. like i-would-get-fired kind of bad idea.”

“you’re twelve. how on earth would you get fired? child labor laws are—"

“i’m nineteen.” 

you laughed at that one. “yeah, sure.” 

grover rolled his eyes. “look, i really, really, wish i could explain more, but i need to go. and i really, really need you to go home.”

“ok.”

“like really, really need you to listen—" he paused. “okay? great!”

“if it means that much to you, i’ll go home.” grover sighed with relief. 

he was eating his words. and a tin can he had picked up off the street. you had followed him out of the building, watched him call a cab, and then, at the last second, jumped in after him, slammed the door, and told the driver to drive before grover could figure out what was going on. 

after your initial panic, when you realized you were hurtling up fifth avenue at three-hundred miles per hour with three old ladies behind the wheel, you had straightened yourself out, and made grover explain everything. he had, reluctantly, when he came to terms with the fact that you were in too deep to back out now.  

he explained camp, the greek (not hindu) gods, and the ladies in the front (who had one eye between them) were very helpful about filling in the details. so, so many details. he explained that he didn’t know who your parent was, just that you were powerful, and that he was planning on asking your mom before everything went up in flames.  

he explained that he was going to connecticut to escort three (now four) demigods to camp half-blood, and that they would likely be tailed by monsters the entire way back. four demigods as powerful as you, and one forbidden child — a child of zeus, poseidon, or hades, as he had mentioned — would attract a lot of attention. 

and you did. it took you a month to get to camp after you found thalia, luke, and annabeth, constantly being thrown off course by monsters, over which you got to know them better than any friends you’d had in your life (with the exception of maybe grover and your little brother). your mother was worried sick, but you iris-messaged her (grover finally got through on that one) every so often, letting her know you were okay. she was surprisingly understanding about camp. she apologized that she hadn’t been the one to take you herself, and that she had been forced to hide the truth from you for so long. the calls always ended though, when she tried to tell you who your father was. the water would shut off suddenly, the rainbow disappearing along with your mother, so you learned to avoid the topic if you wanted to continue talking. 

when thalia died, you were in shock. you sat at the edge of long island sound at camp for three days, staring into the ocean. you didn’t speak, even when you were claimed, as you sat, by your father, poseidon, and shuffled your things from the hermes cabin into cabin three. it was just another loss — you could no longer sleep in the bed next to luke’s. there were no familiar faces in cabin three — no faces at all. you were completely alone. 

eventually, an older aphrodite girl came by the cabin. she introduced herself as hannah, and she showed you around camp, forced you to sit with her and her siblings at dinner, dealing with chiron and mr. d’s disgruntlement herself, and at the campfire. she dragged you to the center of the amphitheater, dancing slowly at first, and then faster, until you were laughing and finding luke and annabeth in the crowd and dragging them to dance as well. 

you missed hannah so much. she wasn’t that far, a first year at barnard this fall, where you would hopefully be in a couple of years. you weren’t ready for college yet, you thought, so you would take a gap year (though you hadn’t been in school for years) and stay at camp, while chiron would help you convince the admissions committee (using the mist) that you had a perfect gpa, excellent extracurricular activities, and a stellar recommendation letter from a highly admired ancient greek scholar by the name of professor c. brunner.  

sitting at breakfast with you was probably miserable, you could admit. you were counting down the days until hannah came back, and your friends were definitely tired of it. but for some reason, this morning silena was practically jumping up and down with something. 

“will you stop?” you asked. “you’re shaking the entire table.” 

“i can’t, i’m sorry.” she seemed sincere in her apology. “i just— oh, you’ll see.”

you didn’t see, in fact, as someone jumped out from behind you and wrapped their arms around your head, their sweatshirt covering your eyes. “who—" you started, before you got a whiff of lavender-vanilla perfume and jumped up from the table. 

hannah. you shrieked, probably waking up half the camp. you spun around and tackled her to the ground, hugging her so tightly you would probably cut off her circulation. 

she pushed you off, laughing, and got to her feet. “it’s good to see you too, babe. what’s up with all of you? you never call, i feel like i’ve been completely cut off.” (you had iris-messaged her last week for five hours). 

“your sister is still absolutely obsessed with beckendorf,” you said, sitting down.

“hey!” silena protested.

“but of course he has no idea that he likes her.” silena turned pink. “no one here is good enough for annabeth, obviously—"

“i never said that, clarisse doesn’t let any boys near me.” you stick your tongue out at her. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” clarisse said, feigning obliviousness. “you hang out with luke all the time.”

“he’s always hanging out with that new kid.” she grumbled. “or—"

“speaking of, clarisse definitely thinks this hermes boy is so cute— you haven’t met him, he got here a few months ago, but his name is chris, and i think they would be so cute together. she’s out of everyone’s league, obviously, but if anyone would be good for her—" 

“gods, you would think you’re the aphrodite kid, listening to you.” hannah smiled. she stole a bite of your french toast. 

“i’m just excited to see you,” you said, laying your head on her shoulder. silena and clarisse smirked. 

“she’s leaving somebody out here,” silena said, smiling. 

“i know, it’s weird, she never shuts up about him otherwise,” clarisse added, narrowing her eyes at you teasingly. 

“oh, who could you possibly be talking about?” hannah twirled a piece of hair. she hasn’t even been here, but one doesn’t forget their best friend’s crush of four years in a few months. 

“i do not,” you protested meekly. 

“you knew who we were talking about, though” 

“i spend a lot of time with him, that’s all. there would be a gaping hole if i told you about my day and didn’t bring him up.”

“would you stop pretending as if you aren’t in love with each other, please?” annabeth interrupted. “you’re worse than them, at least they can admit it.” she gestured at clarisse and silena. 

“i am not in love with him, annabeth.”

“you’re always starting at him.”

“i’m in conversation.”

“with your eyes. that is literally textbook romance.” 

“i could so admit if i was into him,” you say, cutting her off. “i admit things like that all the time. i told you i thought jack was cute. you know that kid from demeter?”

“we all know you made that up,” annabeth said, crossing her arms over her chest. silena gave her a light push. 

“don’t be so quick to accuse, annie.” only you and silena ever called her that. “i don’t think she made it up. i just don’t think she’s as into him as she is into him.”

“would you drop it, about luke, please?”

“hey, you said his name, not me,” silena smiled. “but sure. i don’t believe that you’re not into him, but i’ll drop it if you can prove that he isn’t into you.”

your heart sank. you weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt nauseous at the thought. hannah’s hand rested on your knee, as if she could sense it. 

“how am i supposed to do that? i can’t read minds.” 

“hook up with jack at the campfire.”

“what?”

“flirt with him! you were just talking the other day about how you’re eighteen and you haven’t even had sex yet.” hannah covered annabeth’s ears, to which she shoved her off and glared. “jack’s, like, really hot. i saw you staring the other day.”

“when luke wasn’t around,” annabeth added, one eyebrow raised.

“you want me to have sex with jack?” 

“i’m not saying that. just flirt with him. see what happens. we’ll— she gestured between herself, clarisse, annabeth and hannah— see how luke is doing.” 

“okay, he isn’t going to be doing anything,” you said. “i don’t see what this accomplishes.” but even as you were saying it, your mind betrayed you. you thought for a second and conjured an image of strong arms holding you, soft lips kissing yours with the bonfire light in the background. maybe you were near the beach.

“we’ll see,” silena smiled. 

you didn’t want to go all the way, or anything. you knew that. but… jack was really hot. and sweet. he was always catching little kids falling off of obstacle courses with soft bushes, and growing them flower crowns. it couldn’t hurt to talk to him, see what happened. maybe he’d ask you out, or something. bring you flowers on a date. and you guessed you wouldn’t mind making out with him. 

the campfire roared in the middle of the amphitheater. the only people there were the older campers, and some counselors trickling back in from tucking kids into bed. you had helped luke with the hermes cabin, because he had so many kids to take care of, and you had none. 

you pulled the covers over katie, a girl a little younger than annabeth, who had gotten to camp a few months ago. she was still unclaimed, but with the way she spent all day in the strawberry fields, and the plants tended to shoot up around her, you were fairly sure where she belonged. 

you kissed the top of her head, and stood up, looking around the dark cabin for luke, seeing him kneeling beside a little boy, probably about the same age as katie. the boy sounded like he was crying. 

 “hey, connor,” luke whispered, rubbing circles on the kid’s back. “it’s okay. it’s okay. i get them too.” you realized that the boy must have been afraid to fall asleep. “travis is right above you, he’ll protect you, okay? nothing bad can happen to you here.”

he looked over at you, before turning back to connor. “and we can play poker tomorrow, you’re getting pretty good.”

“are you leaving?” the boy whispered, choking a bit on his tears.

“just for a little bit, kid. i’ll be back soon, i promise. i’ll be here when you wake up. i’m not going to leave you anytime soon.”

“okay,” the boy mumbled. luke pulled the covers over his shoulders, and ruffled his hair before turning to you. 

“let’s go,” he mouthed, gesturing at the door. the two of you crept outside, luke much more stealthily than you, closing the door silently. “god of thieves,” he shrugged, but he didn’t grin as he usually did when he bragged. you didn’t have to ask why, but you played along. 

“yeah, yeah, i know,” you said, rolling your eyes. “can we go now?”

“yeah, ‘course,” he said. he slung his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him as you walked, and you couldn’t help but think of silena’s words as you rested your head on his chest.

arriving back at the campfire, you pulled yourself away from luke, walking over to hannah. she smirked at you, pulling you in for a hug. 

“you don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. 

“i know,” you replied. “i want to. he’s cute.” 

and he was, you thought, as he led you away from the campfire. you’d sat for an hour, letting the flames dance over your skin as you talked with him. he made you laugh, even blush when he grew a flower out of the stone to tuck behind your ear. when he grabbed your hand and pulled you to your feet, you felt dizzy, though that might have been the alcohol. 

as you walked further away from the amphitheater, you spun around in the grass, laughing, and he laughed with you. or at you? you couldn’t really tell, and you didn’t really care. you just wanted to kiss him. you didn’t notice that you weren’t heading near the cabins until he stopped in a little cove at the edge of the forest. 

“why are we here?” you asked, a little dazed. 

“come on,” he said. “you know why.” 

and then he was kissing you. it was messy, and made you kind of uncomfortable, but you told yourself to get over it. you couldn’t expect it to live up to the time luke had kissed you, on a dare, when you were thirteen. nothing would ever live up to that, because you couldn’t have him. he hadn’t even cared when you had left him at the party, talking up some girl you couldn’t really see on the other side of the fire.

you blinked, pulling away from jack. you hadn’t realized as you were thinking it, but you had admitted to yourself for the first time that yes: you did want luke. really, really, wanted him. you pushed back on jack lightly. 

“i’m sorry, i don’t think i can do this right now,” you mumbled, wiping your mouth on the sleeve of your hoodie — luke’s hoodie, that he had given you that night after he kissed you, when you were shivering outside, staring into space because you couldn’t understand what you were feeling. 

“come on, it’s fine,” jack replied, pulling you back into his arms. they weren’t like the arms you were picturing earlier. no, you could admit to yourself new that those had been luke’s. your mind was reeling— you knew that you couldn’t have him, that he would never like you like you liked him, but kissing jack felt wrong. not that you had really been kissing him back. 

“i want to go home,” you said, and you weren’t sure where you meant. back to the campfire, to luke and hannah, back to your cabin? maybe even back to your mom on the upper east side, who you missed every day but couldn’t live with during the year for the sake of your little brother, who was too young to know that he, too, was a son of poseidon. 

“really? you were flirting with me all night,” jack mumbled into your lips. “stay a little longer.” it was true, you had been flirting with him. you figured you could at least make out with him for a bit. you resigned, letting him lower you onto the grass, and reluctantly letting him run his hands along the hem of your shirt. 

hannah was getting worried, and luke could tell. he had forced himself off when you were clearly interested in that demeter guy, who luke knew and was friends with but suddenly hated with all his guts. he had forced himself to be interested in getting the details on silena and beckendorf, which he didn’t really realize he was getting to share with you later, resigning to glancing too often through the flames of the fire at your face, and the way the flames made you look like a goddess. no, he thought. you always looked like a goddess. 

but hannah, who had just arrived back at camp for the summer that morning, was biting her lip, and looking around with a bothered expression on her face, and luke had a horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, that he needed to know you were safe immediately. 

he walked over to hannah, probably too quickly, and didn’t waste time asking how she was, or how college had been. “where is she?” he demanded, too forcefully. he would have to apologize to hannah later, but he only had one thing on his mind.“what’s wrong?”

“oh. hey, luke,” she said, still in a sort of trance. he snapped his finger away from her face, shaking his head.

“hannah? where is she?” 

she shook her head and widened her eyes. it was clear to luke that you had picked up that habit of staring out at nothing when you were deep in thought, usually not about pleasant things. “she’s with jack,” she said. “they left a little while ago. i just… i don’t know. i should go check that she’s back at her cabin by now.” 

“yeah, yeah we should,” luke grumbled, and started taking the steps out of the theater two at a time in an effort to get out. hannah followed— you had told him that his stress could be contagious. 

you weren’t in your cabin. you weren’t in the demeter cabin either, and the pair of them woke up a bunch of kids as you barged in, which he was sure mr. d would have a lot to say about in the morning, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

he ran across the basketball court, hannah close behind. 

“i have an idea of where they might be,” hannah said, pointing in the direction of the woods.

“how do you know?” 

“because i showed jack that spot when we were fourteen,” she said, grumbling. luke clearly wasn’t the only one who cared about you. 

“i thought you were gay?” luke questioned, not slowing down. 

“yeah. like i said, fourteen. people explore things, figure themselves out.” gods, she thought, men could be so incredibly stupid. 

they ran faster than ever to the edge of the woods, where sure enough, they found you, lying on a mossy stone with jack hovering over you. luke wanted to run to you immediately, but hannah held him back — no easy feat, but she managed. 

“hold on, romeo,” she strained. “you can’t just barge in there and—” then she heard it— the unmistakable sound of your voice, and the word stop.

“jack…” you mumbled. you were so drunk. you weren’t sure where you were anymore, and you didn’t really remember walking over here, though you knew you had. “jack, we can do this later, i’m tired—” 

“you’re fine, it’s fine,” he said quietly, starting to undo the zipper of your shorts. you reached down to stop him, but he pushed your hand away, and as it hit the stone, moss started growing over it, holding it there. 

“jack, stop it,” you said, more forcefully this time. you realized that he didn’t even know what he was doing, and for some reason that scared you more. he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but he wanted it— he wanted you held down, and he didn’t care that you didn’t. 

he shushed you, but looked up at a rustling in the trees, and a familiar grunt. 

luke broke out of hannah’s arms, but it didn’t really matter, because she had been letting him go anyways. he stormed across the clearing, and while you were still dazed and confused, you couldn’t miss the entirety of jack’s weight being ripped from on top of you, and you thought you saw a fist collide with his face. 

hannah, however, rushed to your side. she didn’t particularly want to see luke end up bloody and beaten in the infirmary, but she had bigger fish to fry right now: namely, you. she tore up the moss, no longer strong as jack’s focus was elsewhere, and redid your shorts for you. there were tears on your face as she pulled you to your feet. 

there was so much noise. jack was shouting at luke, but you couldn’t make out the words. you could hear the music and the gleeful sounds of counselors from the amphitheater, but it seemed worlds away from you. 

as hannah led you out of the woods, much faster than you could really manage, your head began to pound behind your eyes. a splitting pain hit your forehead, and your vision went black and spotty. you stumbled forward, relying entirely on hannah to keep you upright, but one stray tree root took you down. you swam between consciousness and a dark, dark sleep. there was screaming, it was hannah, and then the familiar deep voice of clarisse, barking orders. you thought you heard annabeth’s name, and then two strong sets of arms lifting you up, and carrying you away. 

you woke up at the bottom of the sea. no. that wasn’t right. the bottom of the sea was soft, covered in mud and sand. you tried to stretch your body, hitting plastic walls. as your eyes focused, you could make out cartoon fish swimming entirely too close to your face, and you sat up with a start, splashing water all over a corner of the infirmary. 

a kiddie pool. they had filled a kiddie pool with salt water, and left you in it overnight to soak, like one of those colorful dinosaur toys that grew in water. and the worst part was that it seemed to have worked. you felt brand new, like you had slept for a hundred years, and at the same time followed a very strict workout regimen, taken a juice cleanse and eaten like a king. you groaned, and slipped back under the water. 

you stared at the ceiling, watching wooden beams ripple with the surface of your personal ocean. you wondered if your father ever felt like this is in the pacific, if he could be that big if he wanted to. your camp necklace floated up before your face, crossing a familiar face lurking over you. 

you sat up. cara fletcher, hannah’s friend, held out some nectar. you shook your head. 

“i’m okay.”

she raised an eyebrow. 

“fine,” you sighed, taking the flask and drinking. it did help. you felt like you could take on the minotaur. 

“your friends were here all night,” she said. i kicked them out around ten because they were falling asleep on each other, and i didn’t need any more cracked skulls when they fell off the stools. 

“more?” you asked. she sighed, looking over her shoulder. 

“your boyfriend beat that kid up pretty bad last night,” she said. you didn’t see jack lying on any of the cots, but a head of dark curls lay a few beds down, and the body attached to it did not look to be in great shape.

“he’s not my boyfriend.” you answered quickly, not taking your eyes off of luke. “is he okay?”

cara seemed to make out which he’s you were referring to. “i wasn’t talking about him,” she said. “hannah told me what happened. if you ask me, luke didn’t do nearly enough damage.” 

“don’t tell him that,” you said. “and he’s also not my boyfriend,” you added as you processed her words fully. 

“not yet, he’s not.” hannah said, strolling in with three bagels in hand.

“i thought i told you to go to bed,” cara scolded, taking her bagel. “you’re going to drop dead one of these days.” hannah smiled, ignoring her as he sat down next to her and put her arm around her shoulders.

you glance between them, ideas churning in your mind, but they were quickly interrupted by the bagel being shoved in your face. you had always thought that the harpies must have spent some time in the city— they made a dam good bagel.  

“so.” hannah started. “you are going to tell us everything you’re thinking right now, because i see you looking over at him every two seconds, and don’t think you’re getting out of any of it.”

“i’m eating,” you grumbled. hannah reached to snatch the bagel away, but cara swatted her hand back. 

“she’s recovering.” you stuck your tongue out at hannah. 

“i don’t care,” hannah said. “spill.” 

“look, i don’t even know what happened last night—” 

“because you were really, really, drunk,” she interrupted. 

“do you want me to speak or not?” you demanded. 

“okay. fine. but just so you’re aware, he swooped in and defended you, and beat the shit out of that little asshole, who, just between us, mr. d is fucking fuming with.” trust hannah to get distracted two seconds in. demigod adhd was no joke. “he dragged him to the big house this morning himself, severe concussion and all, and according to lee, chewed him out for about an hour. something about the sanctity of drunkenness and how it is not to be weaponized… even chiron was surprised.” she paused for breath. 

“anyways, the point stands— he,” she nodded her head at luke, “was quite literally your knight in shining armor, and if you still don’t think he is absolutely enamored with you—” and you were pretty sure you heard a cot creak— “then i swear on my mother i will call her down and force her to do something about this because i cannot take it any longer.” 

“he was just being a good person, hannah,” you muttered. “he’s just like that.” 

hannah looked as though she were about to scream, but cara rubbed her hand along her thigh, calming her before she spoke herself. 

“there’s something more than that, isn’t there?” she asked softly, and you thought she was staring directly into your soul. “there’s a reason you don’t think he likes you.”

you hesitated, splashing the water around in your pool and making eye contact with a cartoon fish as you worked up the courage to say what it was you knew you had to get off your chest.

“before last night,” you started, your voice cracking as you spoke, “it was just me thinking i wasn’t pretty enough, or good enough for him. that he wouldn’t look at me because there are so many other girls at this camp who are obsessed with him. and i don't think i realized that i liked him either. but now…” a sob came from the back of your throat, and you looked up at hannah, tears streaking your red face. 

“why would he want me now?” you sobbed.

“hey. stop that,” hannah started. “what jack did to you wasn’t your fault, and everyone knows that.” she was trying to make you feel better, but the news that your pathetic love life was the talk of camp wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“it was, though,” you said quietly. “i led him on. i never told him no that strongly, and i was flirting with him all night. what reason did he have not to think… not to…” you were hyperventilating now, your words coming out in broken syllables. 

“i’m a fucking slut, and now everyone knows it,” you managed. you sank back into the water to slow your breathing, but tears still streamed down your face. 

“that’s bullshit,” came a voice from elsewhere in the infirmary. you could have thrown up then and there. you pulled yourself up by the walls of the kiddie pool, looking down the aisle as luke castellan limped towards you. his scarred eye was bruised and bloodshot, and he had a massive scrape running up his left arm, and that was just what you could see. the tears began to fall faster. 

“luke…” 

you were thirteen years old again, at the top of half-blood hill, holding grover upright. you were watching desperately as he stumbled upward, through the pouring rain, carrying a screaming little girl who was trying with all her might to run back and help her friend. all four of you were sobbing, exhausted and beaten. seeing them all like that was ten times more painful than the gash in your side. 

“that’s bullshit,” luke repeated. you got up from the pool and held his face in your hand, inspecting the bruise. you took the rest of the nectar cara had given you, holding it to his lips, but he pushed it away. “you’re not a slut,” he said. suddenly everything about your conversation came rushing back to you, and it hit you that you had just admitted to him that you were in love with him. 

you turned your head. hannah and cara were gone, slipped out the back door. you turned back to face luke, face red and tears pouring over your skin.

“that wasn’t your fault. you didn’t owe him anything. he‘s disgusting, and deserves to have his fucking dick cut off.” you laugh, despite everything. 

“i think mr. d may have actually taken care of that,” you whispered. 

“good.” you looked at him for a while. his eyes were so beautiful, a deep, deep, brown that reminds you of the otters that hung mysteriously around your upper east side apartment when you lived in the city.   

“why did you have to fight him?” you asked, reaching up to his face again. 

“you were in trouble,” he said. 

“luke.” the tears were threatening to fall again. “you could have seriously hurt yourself. i just… why? why not just pull him off of me?” you needed an answer. you needed to know why, why on earth he had put so much of himself in front of you, in front of jack’s fists.

he looked down at you, a pained expression on his face. “you know why,” he whispered. 

he looked down at your lips, and you shook your head softly. you looked down at your feet. you were so afraid, afraid that he wouldn’t be interested now that you didn’t want… that. from him. yet— that you considered looking up and letting him kiss you.

he shocked you when he wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him, holding the back of your head into the space between his chest and his shoulder. 

“okay,” he whispered. “that’s okay.” then, softer. “i love you.”

you couldn’t say it back. not yet, not now. but you held him tighter, holding on to him like he was the only thing stopping you from falling into tartarus. 

“i’ll be here forever,” he spoke into your hair. and you believed him. 

the hermes cabin hosted a movie night that night. you were watching the incredibles two, at a request from connor stoll, who was currently involved in an intense argument with annabeth over which installment was better.  

“i think i’m going to start calling you that,” luke whispered in your ear. “jack-jack.” you glared at him. “‘cause, you know, your last name’s jackson-” 

“yeah, dude, i got the joke,” you said. you rolled your eyes, nuzzling your head into his chest. you could stay like this for a while, you thought, and as you closed your eyes, you felt him press a kiss to your head — something you had told him was okay. you couldn’t wait to bring him home for a weekend. maybe annabeth, too. you couldn’t help but think she would get along great with your brother.

⭑

a/n: hello loves! i hope you enjoyed this, please please leave any feedback or anything, and let me know if you would like me to continue this story/write more of luke and the reader's past. i hope people enjoyed the little hints at percy! so excited for this reader and to explore all her relationships.

[jjmaybanksgun]

Affection - JJ Maybank (Part 2)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

Author’s note: here’s part 2 of this story after like forever. find part one here. enjoy and send requests if you want! (please note, they may take a while to write, but they’ll be in the works and published in due time!)

Warnings: cursing, fighting, jj being drunk, angstttt, mentions of l*ke maybank and abuse

———————————————————————

It had been three months since you’d left JJ at the chateau. Every time you see him in public, you make eye contact and immediately look away so he doesn’t get any ideas. 

JJ on the other hand could barely stop thinking about you. He always wanted to text you, call you, try to get you back, but he never was able to bring himself to do it. He didn’t want you thinking he was weak or vulnerable so you could use it to your advantage. He was always taught to keep himself at a distance so no one could take advantage of him. He always had to be in control. What was he if not strong? He remembered his dad’s beatings and how he would make his punches worse when he started crying, telling him to “man the hell up.” 

His thoughts ate away at him and he needed a way to get his mind off of it. The very solution came when he heard there was a party over at the beach. He forced himself up and went to where the party was.

Little did he know, you were there too. You didn’t see him as you talked to some other people at the party. He saw you and froze in place for a few seconds. He cleared his throat and decided to try and ignore you.

He eventually decided alcohol was the best distraction from you. That proves ineffective for him. He ends up just noticing you more. What catches his attention however, is when you start smiling and talking with a guy.

If looks could kill, the guy would be dead immediately. He glared at you both as you laughed and the guy started getting touchy with you. Before JJ could process it, before he could stop himself from doing something stupid, he was on top of the guy and landing many blows to his face.

“Don’t fucking touch her!” He slurs, his punches unrelenting. You immediately grabbed JJ by his shoulders and with effort, pulled him away from the guy who was now bleeding.

“JJ, what the fuck?!” You scolded as you took him away from the party and to somewhere quieter. “What the hell were you thinking?!”

JJ grunted and avoided your angry gaze as he tried to calm down. He eventually did look at you and his gaze immediately softened even when yours didn’t. He felt his eyes fill with tears. He tried to blink them back. Even when drunk, he didn’t want to be vulnerable. He inevitably failed and felt his knees buckle as he sobbed.

“I’m sorry… I’m so s-sorry… I’m a fucking idiot…” He cries, his arms coming up to hug your waist and burying his face into your shirt.

You were taken aback by his sudden show of emotions. You kneeled down to his level and took his face in your hands, making him look at you. 

“JJ, are you okay? What is going on?” You ask, concerned for him. You’d never seen him like this. Not even close. Now he was apologizing.

He averts his eyes away from yours. He looks anywhere except where you are. He can’t look at you.

“I’m so fucking stupid…” He whimpers. “I should’ve… I should’ve told you how much you meant to me… I should’ve hugged you and kissed you and given you all the love you deserve… But I was so fucking stupid… I am stupid…” 

You looked at him with saddened eyes. His cries were so raw, so genuine, it was hard not to hug him. But you figured you shouldn’t until you found out everything.

“You’re not stupid, JJ. Just tell me everything, okay?” You prompted. You wanted him to feel safe enough to talk to you.

He took a few ragged breaths before speaking. “I just… It was my dad… He never showed me anything like you did… He never hugged me or showed me any form of affection…” He explains. “When you did, I didn’t know how to show it back without being cold and distant like he does… I know that’s no excuse…” 

Your heart hurt when you realized it was his dad’s fault. You felt so much empathy for his situation that it was hard to be mad at him anymore. You slowly wrapped your arms around him and held him tight.

He tensed up at your touch for a moment before letting himself melt into it and reluctantly hugging you back.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not. Don’t ever think that.” You reassured him.

You two sat there for a while before eventually standing up and walking to the chateau to put JJ to bed. You walked inside and brought him to his room, laying him down on his bed. He groaned and curled up into the messed up sheets. 

You smiled softly as you watched him look somewhat at peace while he fell asleep. He looked up at you with those pretty blue eyes of his.

“Can you stay, please?” He asked, sounding like an innocent little boy.

You couldn’t resist that innocent stare and slowly climbed in next to him. You wrapped your arms around him and he did the same to you, kissing your forehead.

Fast forward a month, and you two officially started dating again. He still struggled to fully show you physical affection but he made more of an effort to try. And as long as you both understood each other, you were both happy.