#shes not telling him what to do or what to think. shes barely doing that for herself tbh

[kyunzin]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲?

✰ characters ✰ 𝐆. 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮, 𝐆. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮, 𝐅. 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐒. 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧, 𝐍. 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, 𝐊. 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨

✰ summary ✰ them overhearing you say you can take all of them at once (f!reader)

✰ tags/warnings ✰ kissing, teasing, biting, nipple play, biting, pussy licking

✰ kyun’s note ✰ this took a lot out of me, part 2 will be posted when I wake up because apparently there is a word count and I’m too tired to do anything about that right now. the tags will correspond to what part they are in so that’s why the tags look different than in the original outline. the taglist will stay the same with each part

maybe you should have been quieter

maybe you should have make sure nobody was around to hear you

maybe you should have declined their offer and went home to complete your assignments

maybe you’ll regret it in the morning when the pain settles in but that’s a problem for the you of tomorrow

it all started with a whispered comment you shared with your friends, while you watched gojo and geto walk past, you had said that you would let their whole friend group have their way with you unknowing of gojo’s impeccable hearing. you went on a tangent going into detail about all the things you would let them do to you letting the list drag on, shamelessly sharing your desires of all of them. that is until you felt an unfamiliar presence behind you placing their hands on your shoulder causing you to stop your rambling.

not daring to turn around after seeing the long nimble fingers resting on your shoulders as well as the way your friend was looking up at him with wide eyes, there was no doubt in your mind that the sweet scent coming from behind you belonged to gojo. “oh no, don’t stop on my account keep going. I’d love to hear more about what you’d let me do to you” the playful tone in his voice has you thinking that maybe he’ll let you off and move on. its not until he sits down in front of you, one leg over the bench mirroring your position, that you realise he wont leave without getting what he wants.

you try to slide back from him only to collide back into what you can only assume is geto’s firm chest. you have no clue as to when he sat behind you and you barely have to time to process his closeness before he speaks “theres no need to run away from us, we only want to hear what you have to say” his hand snakes around your waist holding you in place his low voice almost hypnotic as his friend flashes his pearly white seemingly innocent smile at you. you’re basically sandwiched in between them and you’re sure that your heart is beating loud enough for them both to hear.

your tongue is dry inside you mouth as you slowly start running out of ways in your head to avoid having to continue your speech. “I’m sure you’ve heard enough already I doubt theres anymore you’d wanna hear from me. I was finished anyway” you hope that’s enough for them but with the way gojo’s smile turn into a devious smirk you can tell they’re not gong to let you off the hook so easily. “oh really, cause if I can recall I remember you saying you’d let me use my fingers to choke you while I fuck you from behind, isn’t that right?”

he doesn’t even blush at his your vulgar statement while holding up his fingers in front of your face curling them into a c-shape as if to act out what he said, his predatory smile back in place. your eyes follow his hands as they drop back in front of him, he gives you a moment before turning his head to the side reminding you of his question but his companion answers for him. “i know what i heard, she also mentioned being spit roasted by both of us, if I’m not mistaken” he’s not and you’re starting to winder just how much they heard you say, you wouldn’t be surprised if they has heard all of it.

without at moments fail they begin to recite you every word, gojo making all sorts of obscene hand gestures while he speaks and you try to hang your head down in shame but gojo’s surprisingly warm hand lifts it up by your chin a small pout on his face “no need to hide princess, we’re only teasing. we’ll stop if you don’t like it” it kind of shocks you that he’s being considerate, considering all the stories you’ve heard of him have been about him being selfish. “not to say that we wouldn’t take you up on your offer is that’s what it is. i’m sure the others wouldnt mind either”

if gojos hand hadn’t already lifted you head you’re sure you would have gained whiplash from the way his friends statement has you turning your head to him with wide eyes. surely he must be joking right? theres no way that all of his friends would agree to live out all your fantasies with them. however the look on his normally impassive dace tell you that he’s serious, he was never known to be a joker anyway leaving all of that to gojo. “he’s serious ya’ know. I’m sure the others would be up for it, however it’s all up to you of course,” he waits before rephrasing his question “so? you up for it?”

you’re unsure as to whether you should accept his proposal or not but from what you’ve heard you’ve sure that you would regret it for the rest of you life if you rejected them now. “I mean if you’re really willing to then I guess I’m okay with it” you shrug and gojo’s toothy smile was back on his face in a flash as well as the hand behind you squeezing your waist gently, you had almost forgot that it was there. “perfect just give me your number and I’ll sort out the details” he hands you his unlocked phone and you type your number in it before handing it back to him. “perfect, I’ll see ya later princess”

he’s up and off just as quick as he came to sit down his companion following in suit both of them walking away side by side unknowing of the mess they just created in you head. it’s not a second later that you remember your friend and turn back to she see her sitting there with the same shocked expression as you except while your mouth was left gaping hers was raised into a crazed grin. having sat there throughout the whole interaction, you’re surprised she didn’t interrupt. the two of you leave your spot fawning over your predicament until you get a message from an unknown number with an address and time sent off with a blue heart emoji blue.

you quickly save his number and part with your friend leaving for your last lesson of the day, anticipation killing you all throughout the lecture. it’s no lie to say you almost run outside the room when the session finishes making your way home to freshen up and get ready. gojo had told you to be at his place by 4:30 earliest so you still had some time before you had to be there, plus you didn’t want to arrive early and seem to desperate even though you were. so you took your time getting ready making sure everything was making sure to pick out something comfortable to wear.

you had spent part of your afternoon in the shower making sure you were smooth as silk, washing yourself off with your favourite scented soap. making sure to rub cream into all parts of your skinthe time went by quick and before you knew it it was 4:28. you didn’t realise how long it took you to get ready but at least you knew that your were prepared enough. you search up the address gojo gave you and make your way there with slow steps giving yourself enough time to think through your life choices. you manage not to talk yourself out of it and soon enough you’re standing in front of their house.

before you chicken out at the latest second you quickly ring the doorbell and seal your fate, it’s not long before you hear steps coming your way making your heart beat faster. the door soon swings open slowly to reveal geto smiling down at you “glad you decided to come, have any trouble finding the house?” he steps aside you let you in closing the door behind you. in all honesty your surprised with the state of the house, you would expect it to be messy considering all the parties they’re said to have but it’s relatively clean bar a couple of cups on the living room table that geto leads you to.

“no it was a quick journey. why wouldn’t I come?” who in their right mind would turn down a chance to fuck the hottest guys on campus. you take a seat on the black leather sofa positioned in front of the wide inch tv and almost flinch when geto sits almost directly next to you. “it didn’t seem like you were to keen back at the table, I thought me might have come on to swing and scared you off” he picks up the remote from somewhere and turns on the tv, flicking through some channels he looks back to you with a reassuring smile. “you can still back out it you want the guys won’t mind”

“no, I’m sure. I’m just a little nervous is all, it’s my first time doing something…” you trail off at the end not sure how to phrase it but geto picks up for you “you mean you’ve never fucked this many people at once?” you can hear the smirk in his voice without looking at him and it’s clear as day that he’s teasing you “yeah, exactly that. but I’m sure you guys will make it worth my while won’t you?” you turn to look at him with an unwavering and seductive stare not planning on letting have all the fun. it’s seem to have caught him off guard with they way his eyes widen a little bit at your boldness.

seeing that your earlier nerves have dissipated he seems a little more eager to get started on your plans, placing your legs over his spread ones massaging his hand over your inner thigh slowly edging his hand further up. you part your legs a little to give him more access and use your arm to bring him into a kiss which he more than happily accepts. your lips melt against when he begins to deepen the kiss licking his way into your mouth. it’s only a second later that you realise the cold sensation you feel is his tongue piercing, which you didnt realise he had, mapping out the inside of your mouth.

he soon becomes impatient and pulls you on top of him without breaking the kiss, leaving you flush against him full body pressing down on his. he sucks in the small moan you let out when you fell his erection through the fabric of your clothes pressing directly into your cunt. even without opening your eyes you can feel him smirk into the kiss knowing that he’s having an affect on you. deciding that you won’t let him be the only one unaffected you roll your hips down into his, threading your hand into his tied up hair gripping onto it tightly and it’s a delight to hear the sharp “fuck” he lets out.

you pull back from the kiss leaving small trail of saliva connecting both of you lips for a second as you let out a small yelp when both his hand come down and slap your ass. the both of you are now breathing heavily trying to regain some air, staring at each other with lust blown eyes when he recovers. using his hands to keep you still he grinds his hips up into yours. “it’s cute that you’re trying to take control but just leave everything to me princess, I’ll make you feel good” you have half a mind to nod your head when he uses both his hands to grip your ass, squeezing sporadically.

just as you’re about to lean down and kiss him again you’re interrupted by an exaggerated gasp behind geto only to find gojo standing by the stairs surely hiding a grin behind his hinds that are clasped over his mouth. “how could you two start without me” you’re about to apologise but geto stops you, “ignore him” pressing kisses into the side of your neck while sliding a cold hand up your shirt sending a shiver down your spine. you’re so distracted by the feeling of geto’s soft lips on your skin that you hardly notice when gojo ends up kneeling next the the two of you on the sofa.

you’re startled by the sudden contrast of geto’s cold hands to gojo’s warm ones turning your head to his direction, looking at you with his now familiar predatory grin, “I could hear your cute little noises from upstairs, is he making you feels good?” your response is cut off by a moan as geto rolls his hips into yours again, “stop talking and make better use of your mouth” he says without his lips leaving your neck and you watch as gojo rolls his eyes playfully but complies with his friends command with a silent whisper of “so bossy” before leaning down and latching his lips onto yours.

unlike geto whose kiss was more rough and impatient, gojo focuses his attention on teasing you endlessly. gently brushing his lips against yours slowly pulling away, revelling in the way you try to chase his lips with a whine only to be pulled back by an annoyed geto. “I thought I told you to be useful?” he spans his attention back to you gesturing at your top lifting it slightly, agreeing you lift your shirt off and throw it behind you. gojo’s quick to unclasp your bra, taking it off to drop on top of your shirt. “yeah yeah whatever” he makes quick work of sucking your nipple into his mouth, biting down hard.

you arch into his touch while geto holds you down by your hips, flicking your other nipples while he watches your face contort into pleasure. it’s like the both of them are competing to see who can get the better reaction out of you, the near constant rolling of geto’s hips into yours versus how gojo relentlessly bites and sucks on your nipple. their more than experienced hands start to roam your body and you’re now starting to believe all the rumours that were said about them. if it feels this good with just the two of them you wonder what it’ll be like with the rest of them.

just as the thought passes you hear someone come through the front door and you try to look but you’re stopped as geto pulls you into another sloppy kiss. “impatient fucks, I thought you said you were gonna wait until we all got here” the voice comes closer but getos lips are still locked with yours and you cant bear to break the kiss. that is until a thick hand hooks around your neck from behind you pulling you away from geto’s lips. he turns you to face him and youre met with toji’s mocking grin. “she looks gone already, fuck what did you two do to her” he inspects you face for a second before letting go.

“nothing she hasn’t thought about before,” gojo smiles as he turns to you “isnt that right princess?” you don’t trust your voice enough to speak so a weak nod is all that you can manage, seeming to have accepted the response toji lets go of you neck and you already miss the heated grip around your neck as you subconsciously try to lean back into the touch which earns you a laugh from the trio. “seems like she’s tired of you two, how about you come upstairs with me?” not that you’re given a chance to answer as he effortlessly picks you up from geto holding you bridal style in your half-naked state.

you can feel his thick muscles flexing under you as he adjusts his hold while he ignores the protests from the other two men trailing behind him. he makes sure to watch where hes going when he walks so it gives you a chance to study his features. this is the closest that you’ve ever been up to him, sure you’ve seen pictures and caught glimpses of him around campus but seeing something in person is different, especially the fact that you cant smell through pictures. god he smells so fucking good. you can even see the thin layer of sweat over he exposed neck, probably having just come back from exercise.

I wanna lick the sweat off him, wonder if he’d let me. due to your gaze being lowered you failed to notice him smiling down at you. “I’d let you do anything you fucking want sweet cheeks, s’long as you let me get a taste of you first” your head snaps up to him, eyes widening in shock not realising you had said that out loud. ‘I really have an issue keeping my mouth shut don’t i- hold on’ “sweet cheeks?”. he chuckles deeply and you can fell the vibration coming off his thick chest. “s’there a problem? anyone with eyes can see a great piece of ass, I’m just the lucky guy that gets to have it”

in the few seconds the interaction had happen toji had managed to open a door, entering a room and practically tossing you onto the edge of a neatly spread bed. looking around you can gather that it’s probably a guest bedroom. the other two enter only shortly “we weren’t doing with her yet” gojo complains. “not my problem, it’s my turn now” in a quick motion he pulls his tank over his head snd gets down on his knees in front of you. “now how about we get rid of these,” without asking he pulls down your joggers and panties in one fluid motion leaving you bare in front of them. “that’s better”

you try to close your legs in modesty but toji stops you by spreading your legs wider than before with both hands “keep ‘em nice and wide for me,” he lets a hand slide down almost reaching your inviting pussy “keep ‘em and I’ll stop yeah?” you not airily hoping he’ll finally start but he doesn’t move clearly waiting for something else “I need words cheeks” you let out a frustrated groan before complying with his request. “I won’t close them just fucking do something already” his eyes look shocked but he grins at your boldness, however both geto and gojo, aquatinted with you sass, just laugh.

“such a needy cunt you have, can’t wait to be stuffed full” he slides both hands under your thighs and pulls you directly in front of him, leaning back and resting on your elbows waiting for what he’s for what he’s going to do next. you let out a whimper, relieved to finally be touched, when he runs two fingers up your pussy collecting your juices on his fingers and sucks them into him mouth ands moans at the taste while maintaining eye contact with you. “tastes better than I imagined, ‘toru come here” you’re suddenly reminded of the other two’s presence at the mention of his name.

its takes a second for you to notice that geto isn't standing were he was before until the bed dips behind you and your raised to lean against is chest, trying to look back at him but his cold hands lower your gaze down to were gojo is not knelt between your legs alongside toji. "keep your eyes on them, don't pay attention to me" his sonorous voice sends chills down your bare neck while you turn your attention back to the, now two, boys below you. gojo starts tailing kisses up your thighs looking up at you through his platinum lashes until toji pulls him back with a firm tug of is hair that as him letting out a grunt

"i didn't say you could touch did i?" watching as the two men stare at each other, you let out a whine at the sudden loss of touch but its quickly replaced by geto's cold fingers tweaking your nipple "be patient you'll get what you want soon enough" you're now left with both legs spread wide over geto's, almost begging for someone to do something, anything at this point. luckily your prayers are answered when geto runs a ands down your abdomen pressing a wet kiss to your neck "you do know its rude to keep your guests waiting right?"

at his reminder both men turn back to you with similar grins on their faces, though toji doesn't release his grip on gojo's hair he quickly whisper something into is ear that you cant hear before turning back to you "my bad, 's just that this little bitch as no patience 'n doesn't know how to listen". geto ignores then and turns your head towards him while the other one pinch and roll your nipple between is fingers, latching his lips onto yours in a wet kiss eliciting a moan from you, which distracts you from the other two. your eyes shoot back open, a hot tongue is presses flat against your pussy.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

✰ taglist ✰ @lik0 @yaygurist @dvarlinggg @valleydoli @yeet-ur-feet @silkija @nuggetalli @zillahgocrazy @satoryaa @yaya4thawin @nowhoremones @yeetlixs @happy2delivur @heliumshorns @chocopuchino @luvv4lurd @sorceira @maniaerodesi @chysalxsm @cobraisveryhorny @servalswifey @chrissysblog @futureittomainn @zacatecanaaaa @ichikanu @ameeeeeliie @bluupen @prettybakerswife @blankwashed @klumrine @chadychadyy2k @hantenguclonesimp-minuszoha @dl-yum @jalepp @kibananya @jjksimp3579 @xemmysblog @shawnberry @bleachisfood @barryatsumu @zennyxxy @dyeforkenma @bloomingheartss @sousblogga @alluresenses @zwmbizz @queenkassradite @dawnhero @xthatpottahfanx @loavibeycipoosan

#✰𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐍 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒✰ #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto suguru #getou x reader #geto smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami smut #choso smut #choso x reader #choso kamo #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader

[sourlove]

Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️

TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY

A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.

READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE

Thanks for the ask!

The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.

"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"

You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.

"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"

Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"

"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.

"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.

"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.

"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.

Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."

"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."

"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."

"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.

"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"

Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.

When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.

"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.

"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."

You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."

"A sap for you, honeybun~"

"I said don't call me that in public!"

"But whyyyy?"

You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.

"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.

You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?

The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.

Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.

"You."

Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.

"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"

You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"

The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.

He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.

"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"

"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"

A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.

#obsessive love #obsessive yandere #yandere #yandere boyfriend #writers on tumblr #fanfic #yandere jock #jock #golden retriver boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere male #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere x female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #yandere x #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere fic

[princessbrunette]

frat! rafe praying on the shy sorority girl because he just loves to fluster her. Telling her to sit on his lap and she just nods because she doesn’t want to upset the president of the most important frat

i luv this concept especially with reader who is super softly spoken like cailee spaenys priscila !! (im projecting bc that’s how i talk <3)

୨♡୧ 🎀 ᰔ 🎀 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა

standing up on the sidelines when everyone’s sat around the couch drinking and having fun, your hands clutched at your front playing with your skirt because you don’t know what to do with them. rafe wants to talk to you, he thinks you’re so sweet — but can barely hear you over the party.

“look, hey— come sit down. can’t hear you.” he lays the charm on, leaning back in his seat with a honey-thick smile. your breath hitches as you look around the group.

“there isnt any space for me. its okay.” you shake your head and his smile only grows.

“yeah, which is why i’m saying you can sit right here.” he pats his leg. you blink for just one second and he holds up his hands in defence. “i’ll behave, i swear.” he grins, and he must be good at what he does, good at speaking to girls because you trust him oddly, though everything in you tells you he’s not being completely truthful.

you nod anyway, as you’d hate to be so rude to the president of the frat — the frat everyone spoke about, cared about, the one that hosted all the events. you perch on his leg shyly and he gets comfortable, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“see thats better, i can actually hear you now. can get to know you better like this, right?”

୨♡୧ 🎀 ᰔ 🎀 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა

#anon #frat!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

[inkyray]

Can you do a angsty Matt story? Maybe when hanging out with friends he made a rude comment and the reader got upset but he didn’t notice so when they go back to his house Chris/nick notice somethings wrong not Matt which makes the reader angry and they fight?

a/n: if you look at my doc where i wrote this at, this took up 15 pages of utter horror

warning/content ahead: ANGST LETS GO, matt x anxious!asthmatic!reader, fighting, crying, arguing, anxiety attacks, asthma attacks, bsf!chris yesss go girl, like one oc i made up, lmk if i missed anything

-

TOUCHED

You trail closely behind your boyfriend, the mall large and filled with people, getting stopped every five minutes for a new fan to take a photo with him. You being the one forced to take them.

You hand a fan their phone back, watching as they skip somewhere off to the side. You sigh, and Matt goes in to reach for your hand, understanding your frustration, but you flinch away, making sure he doesn't grab a hold of it. "You okay?" He questioned.

You guys have barely made it past the entrance of the mall and this was the eighth fan to come up to him, it was a day made just for the two of you and now it's being slowly stripped away from you as you take pictures of him next to strangers. You didn't want to seem sensitive, but answered nonetheless, lying through your teeth. "Of course."

You dart your eyes around the place for a distraction, landing on a pretzel stand. "Oh! Wanna get a soft pretzel?" You get excited, gesturing to the stand. Matt follows your gaze and his face brightens. "Oh, god yes. I've been wanting one for weeks." He utters.

He grabs ahold of your hand and you take it back immediately, shoving it in your pockets and looking around to see if anyone saw that. No, thankfully, not. You hoped.

You watched his adam's apple bob as he dropped his gaze, you two walking over to the stand. "You looking to buy a pretzel?" A young woman in the stand asks, fixing her uniform hat. "Yes, please--" You start but quickly get interrupted.

"Wait, are you Matt Sturniolo?" She asks, her demeanor changing to reach for her phone. You swallow your throat dry as he answers. "Oh my god, can I get a picture?" She doesn't wait for an answer, getting around from the stand as she gets her phone ready. Matt shoots you an apologetic look as you ignore it, taking the phone that was handed to you and snapping a picture of them, your face expressionless.

"Thank you so much." You give her a small smile just to quickly realize she wasn't even looking at you, but at your boyfriend. "What did you guys want?"

You order, every sense of excitement completely flushed out of your body as you chew at your pretzel. You guys were now standing at some corner of the mall shadowed, somewhere Matt had insisted on standing to eat your pretzels in peace.

You chew on your soft pretzel, calculating the place around you before turning your attention to look up at him. He examines your face, one side of his cheek stuffed as he chews on it. He chuckles to himself, "You got a little somethin'' Matt's gaze was on your upper lip, lifting a thumb to brush off whatever was on there but you quickly moved your head back. You block his gesture with your own hand, removing any crumbs that were on you.

He finishes what was in his mouth. "Look," He starts but you dismiss it immediately, knowing what he's about to say. "Let's spend this day without any problems, okay?" You tell him softly before he could get a chance to explain himself. He sighs, looking like he's considering what you're saying.

"Okay." He agrees, "But, can I get a quick kiss?" He asks, a small frown on his face. You look around, seeing one too many people. "When we go home." You answer.

PDA in general isn't your cup of tea, but little stuff like holding hands and small physical touching you didn't mind. Matt was aware of that, you guys have been together for months. You'd think he'd got you all figured out. But as his career was skyrocketing, so was your problem with PDA.

It felt like everyone was watching, the anxiety of his fans probably seeing something and snapping a picture, posting it to the internet without either of your consent swelled your mind. His fans are what worried you, with how cruel they could be and the all seeing eyes of judgment. You loved Matt and wouldn't leave him for the world, he was your partner in crime. But making it public seemed like a death wish, millions of fans deranged enough to find a way to have you two broken up.

You weren't embarrassed of him, that was the farthest thing you felt. If anything, you felt like you were the one embarrassing him. You couldn't afford to paint such a picture for him and you didn't want any more fans to go any harsher on him. You were doing this because you cared for him, that's what he didn't seem to understand.

-

You stood in front of your mirror, having your hand slide down your curves, the dress hugging you exceptionally tight in all the right places. Your hair was in a messy updo, revealing your delicate shoulders and collarbones, messy strands untied to the updo, flying filmy around in soft motion. You were thrilled to see the look on your boyfriend's face when he sees you, knowing this a dress he would drool over, especially on you.

Picking up your phone, you notice your girl friends texting you, saying they were outside ready to pick you up. You, your boyfriend Matt, his brothers, and a bunch of friends are all going to some fancy restaurant in LA. Excited, you spray yourself in your signature scent and head out.

You got multiple compliments, which meant a lot coming from your close friends, but whether you wanted to admit or not, nothing mattered until you saw Matt.

You spare your friend, Em, a lip liner from your bag as you watch the restaurant appear into view. Em had made it her mission to somehow get Chris to fall in love with her by the end of the night, and you were curious to see how that would go. Peering out the window, you see Matt, his brothers, and their male friends conversing in front of the place, waiting on you guys. Almost everyone you were hanging out with tonight were influencers, not you though.

You feel your heart skip a beat when you see him, urging your friend to hurry up and park. He looked perfect. "Okay! Okay, give me a minute." She laughs, doing as you please. In seconds, you're out of the vehicle and greeting everyone, greeting the ones closest to you first. Nate, Chris, a friend, Nick, who doesn't hide his impressed look on his face. "Are you heaven sent? Holy fuck, you look amazing." He says and you fail to hide the erupting flattered chuckle, "Says you, wouldn't be surprised if you left tonight with multiple new numbers in your phone." You say, before turning to your boyfriend with a dimpled-smile.

You engulf him into a hug, one that has his scent swirling around you and comforting you instantly, one that takes him by surprise and stiffly hugs you back. "You look so handsome, pretty boy." You look up at him, pulling away from the hug. His expression was confused, the smile he had when talking to his friends disappearing when you pulled him into a kiss in front of everyone. Pulling back down, you stare up at him, waiting for him to say something.

"Thanks." He says, looking away from you and going to greet the other girls that tagged along. You were still smiling, but you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. That was it? He's usually more touchy than this. You watched him hug all the other girls, with hands around their waist a gleaming smile playing. You wondered if that's what he looked like hugging you too.

He pulls away and you stare at his hand, his finger ringed and the urge to hold it was strong. You reach a hand out to hold onto it, but he moves all too quickly in a motion of conversing with a friend before you can grasp onto it. Leaving you holding no ones hands but your own.

Turning your head away, you go and greet his other friends.

-

You sat at the long white-clothed table, picking lightly at the petaled roses displayed in front of you. Your boyfriend sat somewhere far down the table, across from Em. While you sat across from Chris, with Nick right beside you. Nick seemed to be caught up in a conversation with the girl on the other side of him. As for Matt, he was talking to both Nate and Em.

You can't help but look at him every second, he was so interested in whatever they were talking about he didn't even bother to make sure he sat next to you. He wasn't that far down the table, but far enough where you couldn't reach him. You could see and hear him, yet not touch him. For the first time in a while, you were upset about it.

You were forced to break your gaze from on him, turning to examine the beyond-fancy restaurant. Gold plated things everywhere, marble, high ceilings and long draped curtains. Maybe you were underdressed. Looking back down, you look at the rose petal you had accidentally broken off.

Everyone around you was engulfed in their own conversation while you just sat there, feeling the softness of the petal before slowly ripping it to shreds. Everything around you began hitting you in the wrong places, everything was too loud, the lights felt too hot on your skin, the place needed air conditioning, the waiter was taking too long. Your hands began to shake as the ripped petals fell from your grasp.

"Hey." You feel a quick kick to your shin and you look up. "Hey, Chris." You couldn't help but smile. Chris was definitely one of your best friends, all of the triplets were. But Chris knew how to take your mind off anything. His eyes darted from your shaking hands to your expression. "Why aren't you next to your boyfriend?" He asked with a small smile, one that made you feel like he was about to crack a joke.

"You mean Matt?" You dart your gaze over to him, he was fully laughing now. "Yeah. Unless you have a separate boyfriend here." Chris practically rolls his eyes as you feel the quiver of her hands quicken. You try to stop them  putting your hands on top of each other and applying pressure, hoping to stop it. "I think he just got caught up with his friends on a topic or something." You say in regards to Matt.

"Mm." Chris hums, nodding to what you're saying. He slowly leans against the table, getting closer to you. His voice drops a few tones as he asks you something. "What's wrong?" He gestures to your hands, voice whispery. You look back down to see your hands still shaking, you quickly hide them under the table and rest on your lap.

"My anxiety, Chris." You answer, looking at the open lights behind him before quickly looking away, feeling a headache form. "Everything here is so overwhelming." You answer honestly.

In Chris's mind, he puts two and two together. He knew you were telling the truth, but he also knew you wouldn't be this anxious unless you were seated next to his brother. He was aware that his brother had an effect on you that would immediately help with your anxiety, giving you some sort of comfort in uncomfortable scenarios. Chris cared about you like you were his sister, and he wished he had that sort of effect on you too, wanting nothing but to keep you happy.

He sighs, leaning back. "It is pretty overwhelming here, huh." He mutters, taking a sip from a water that was definitely Nick's, but he was too distracted to notice. You smile at the gesture, and he sips down the water and holds it up to you. "Want some?" He lifts his eyebrows, and you shake your head with a smile. "You sure, 'cause the ethereal hint of Sir Nicolas's saliva really just melts on your tongue."

You scrunch up your nose with a laugh as Nick's head snaps to Chris's direction. "What the fuck are you doing, Chris?" Nick's tone was warning. Chris pops a shoulder. "Oh, you know, drinking some delish water."

"Delish?" Nick repeats, "Did my water turn you gay?" That's what makes both you and Chris erupt into laughter, and you can't help but to even rub your eyes, careful not to mess up any of your eye makeup. Chris does the same, laughing more because you were rather than Nick's joke. Nick even chuckles a little, snatching his water back and keeping it beside him. "Dummy fuck."

It takes you a second to compose yourself, noticing just how loud you and Chris are being. With the failed attempt to keep yourself from laughing, you lean to Chris. "Sh–" You interrupt yourself with a laugh. "Shh, we're going to get kicked out." Your cheeks were hurting, the joke wasn't even that funny. Now you guys were just laughing because of the other one. 

Chris opens his eyes, squinting at you as he tries to lower his laugh a notch, holding a finger in front of his mouth as he attempts to shush you too, but only laughs more.

The two of you were unaware, but Matt had been staring at you since the moment Chris had kicked your shin. He watched as he leaned into and whispered something too inaudible, then kept his gaze on you guys until you were almost on the floor laughing. Jealousy burnt through his chest, and some form of hurt anger erupted, aiming directly at you. 

Everybody at the table now was looking at you guys, laughing a little along with you guys from the scene in front of them, not really sure what you guys were laughing at. You watch as a waiter begins to approach from behind Chris, and you immediately kick his leg, maybe a little harsher than intended. "Ow!" He jumps, and you point to the region behind him, he turns his head and sees the approaching waiter. He turns his head back immediately, his eyes wide as he tries to swallow down his laughs. Which seemed even funnier to you.

It was a struggle for you two to order, and Nick had to be the one to order for you guys. You felt immature and childish, but it somehow made you feel better about yourself knowing that Chris did as well.

Em starts talking from your row, across from Matt, as she aims her topic at Chris. "We're gonna have to wait even longer for our food now, am I right?" She says, making her voice slightly louder so Chris would be able to hear her, but his attention wasn't even on her, he was completely fixated on you, accidentally ignoring her completely.

"Ugh." He mutters, clenching onto his stomach. "My stomach hurts so fucking bad now." He almost moaned, and you grin. This is the most you've smiled all night. Now that he's mentioned it, you feel a cramp begin to form in your stomach too. "Oh, shit. Me too." You lay your palm on the thin material of your dress. "Fuck you, making me laugh so hard." You say, feeling your stomach begin to worsen.

"Me?" He scoffs, "Nick is the one that made the joke, loser." He defends, both of you guys matching with a hand on your stomachs. "Yeah, but your laugh is stupid." You tell him, he has an offended look on his face. "Your laugh is also stupid."

You shrug. "Your laugh is stupider."

-

In all honesty, Chris is what got you through the entire night. When the conversation would die down and you would shift your attention back to Matt, Chris managed a way to keep you from feeling gloomy again. Your boyfriend hadn't spoken a word to you since the moment you guys had stepped into that restaurant.

Now, everyone was getting up from their seats on the table and they left tips under their empty plates. Soon, everyone would need to leave.

You follow them out of the building, noticing how later it was at night and how you should've brought a jacket for the chilly night. You look for Matt, hoping he would provide you with some sort of warmth with his body heat. As everyone approaches their cars, they all linger there, deciding to hang out in the parking lot a little longer.

Chris was now talking to Nate and his other friend, not paying any mind to Em that was trailing behind him. You notice Matt telling Nick and his friends a few things, and you immediately get the idea to stand next to him. Hopefully the quiet game was over now, and he would finally talk to you now that you were closer. Standing next to Matt, who's in a conversation of his own, you gently lean yourself on him, letting your bare arm brush against his clothed body, providing you with the smallest bits of warmth. Usually, he'd cover your shoulders with an arm draped over it, but here, he doesn't do anything.

You lay your head on his shoulder as he continues talking, not even batting an eye toward you as you let out a small breath, watching as the air coming out of your mouth turns into cold fog. It was freezing out, and a gust of wind flew your way, giving you a series of shivers down your back. Subconsciously, you lean close to him.

"Can you stop?" He huffs, stepping away from you as you almost trip, just now noticing how dependent you were being on him. Nick furrows his eyebrows. The trip had sent your ankle to bend, small rocks digging their way into your skin. "Sorry." You swallow, fixing your shoe, your foot stinging.

The groups navigated to this one, and everyone was around each other, getting ready to head home but wanted to spare the time a little longer. You spoke to Em, who admitted she gave up on Chris. "He was hopeless." She sighed.

You spoke to the girls who drove you here. You loved them dearly, they were the kindest and the closest girls to you. Now, your attention shifted to Matt, who was listening to Nate speak to everyone. "Bro, I'm just glad the plans made it out of the group chat and everyone managed to come tonight. You know how long we've wanted to do this?" Nate mumbled the usual way he does.

"For real, plus, everyone looks fucking fantastic." Nick says, turning his head to you. "I'm looking at you, cutie." He points at you, winking. Everyone begins agreeing, and you start to believe it. Maybe you did look good tonight.

You turn your head to look at Matt, cranking your neck a little to look up at him. He looks past you, down at the pavement. "Whatever you say." He mutters under his breath, his face blank and you feel your heart begin to shatter like glass. No one seemed to have heard him, and you begin to wonder if it was just your imagination.

"What?" You question, looking at him. Your eyes start to get glassy, and the moonlight hits your face just right, making Chris notice what was going on. Matt ignores you, clasping his hand together. "All right, I guess it's time to go home."

"You're coming with us, right?" Nick asks you as everybody begins getting in their cars. "That was the plan." Chris says, looking at you for confirmation as you tried to bite down every part of your body that felt like it was being stung with needles. Swallowing your mouth dry, you answer. "I think I'll go home tonight."

Nick and Chris's faces visibly go confused. "Home with us, right?" You shake your head, your neck stuck in a stiff and still to keep yourself from accidentally looking at Matt. It felt like if you even tried to look at him, you would burst out crying. "Home to my apartment."

"Aw man, please?" Nick frowns, and you shake your head, hearing their car start. You hear Matt call your name out and you physically feel your heart clench. "Just fucking come." He groaned, entering the car and slamming the door harshly, enough to leave you flinch. Your eyes got subconsciously wide, trying to expand your sight as if it'll keep the tears from rushing out completely. Chris and Nick look at Matt then you, then at each other, utterly bewildered. "I'll come." Your voice barely came out, completely dumbfounded by his aggressiveness.

"Let's go." Chris puts a gentle hand on your arm, leading you to the back of the car as Nick rushed to the passenger seat. "Matt, what the fuck is your problem?" Nick was a tone away from considering yelling, no doubt angry with the way he was treating you. Matt just sighs.

Chris watches you with sorrow as you take your time entering the car, noticing just how bad you sprained your ankle, needing to hold onto his hand to enter the vehicle. The second you scoot to the middle of the back of the car, Chris immediately shoves himself inside, shutting the door as he glares at Matt through the rear mirror. "Took you two long enough." Matt growled, his voice was quiet but he spoke volumes.

"Matt, seriously, what stick is up your fucking ass?" Nick spoke with his hands, his palms spread open but his fingers clasped together as he was vigorously waiting for a response. God knew you were waiting for one too, desperate for one. It felt like piles of bricks were being laid on your chest, one by one.

"Nick, shut the fuck up." He had begun driving by now, all you could do was lay your head against the window and wait for this ride to end. "Watch your goddamn mouth, Matt." Chris didn't have his seatbelt on, sitting on the edge of the backseat as his voice was laced with impatient annoyance.

You closed your eyes, holding your own hands, lacing your fingers together as they began to shake just as they were in the restaurant when you first got there. "What are you going to fucking do, Chris? Kiss my girlfriend?" Matt argued, his voice getting louder. Your eyes fly open at the phrase.

"Matt, what?" Chris uttered, nothing but confusion written on his face.

"This is so fucking stupid." Nick declared. "Let's make it home and give her a peace of calm fucking mind. I just want her to have a good night's sleep, honestly." He sighed, referring to you. He cared about you deeply.

The ride home was uncomfortable to the brim. It felt like someone had poured thick fog into the car and made it difficult for you to breathe at a normal pace, your breaths either lasting too long or too short. The invisible fog picking at your nose and eyes, a push away from letting a tear slip. At least, for you.

Now, you are back home in your boyfriend's house. Nick leaves for his room to quickly change, as Chris lingered to do something on his phone. Usually, you'd head straight for Matt's room, given it was the one that had everything that belonged to you in, the one you'd sleep at every night.

You stood around, unsure of the next move you should make. Matt took a rootbeer out of the fridge and popped it open, looking at you as you glance at your splintered feet. "You just gonna stand there or what?" He says after a sip, another brick adding to your chest.

You approach the kitchen, passing Chris on the couch who had his gaze fixated on you, mentally begging for you to stand up for yourself. You bring up the courage to look him dead in the eye, the same ones that you had declared the most perfect eyes in the world just earlier today. "Matt, what did I do?" You finally ask, straightforwardly asking the question.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mock confusion. "What did you do? 'Cause frankly, I'd love to know." Sarcasm laced his tongue and you felt your hurt turn into anger. "Stop talking out of your ass and answer me." You say, getting closer to him that the only thing separating you two was the wide table in the middle of the kitchen.

"There's always fucking something with you, isn't there?"

"Always something with me!? You're the one who won't tell me what's wrong." You make your voice louder to match his.

"You always have some sort of problem with something, don't you!?" He was determined to out-yell you, as if his words would hit harder if he made it's volume that way.

Your body was boiling, confusion, impatience, and pure irritation an ugly mix in your stomach. He won't give you an answer, and you are fed up. You cannot let him treat you like this any longer.

"What the fuck are you talking about!?" You begin to use your hands.

"You fucking know what I'm talking about!"

With that being said, you two were now yelling over each other. The argument quickly turns into a fight, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you move them around. His voice booms throughout the house and it's enough for Nick to quickly notice what was going on from upstairs. You shouted back, begging for a simple response as he accused you of acting dumb on purpose.

The shouting was layering on top of what you two were saying, screaming and yelling what immediately comes to mind, paying no attention to what the other person is saying for the interruption until a phrase slips out that triggers the other person into saying something else.

Chris screwed his eyes shut tightly, a depressing wave floating in his chest as he felt the hurt wafting from both of you. The two people he cared about the most, fighting as he heard it all. He shuts his phone as he raises both his hands to rub on his eyes until he sees static. The unbearing sound of the two of you only getting louder.

The second Nick was done changing he was flying down the stairs, determined to break up whatever was happening.

"Matt!" Nick tried yelling over you two, but quickly noticed he'll have to do more than that, you two louder together than Nick was on his own. He attempts to call your name as well, but neither of you are aware of his presence.

You couldn't help it, hot tears were streaming down your face now as you pleaded for him to compromise. Your emotions shift between hurt, anger, and everything that comes with it. Matt definitely noticed, his gaze lingering on your glistening cheek as he only argued back faster.

Nick shoots a quick and worried look at Chris, who just so happened to open his eyes right when he did, concerned this would become something physical. Chris gets up from his spot on the couch, approaching Nick with a look that says 'how-the-hell-do-we-stop-this'.

The sight in front of them begins to get messier and their heart skips a beat when Matt doesn't stop his yelling, leaning over the table to point a finger at your face.

"You know what you're fucking—"

"Get your finger out of my fucking face." You spit.

" 'because it always has to be your way—"

"Matt, I said get your finger, Out. Of. My. Face!"

"Oh but as long as I'm doing what you–"

You and Matt were now inches away from each other, leaning across the table but your faces uncomfortably close. A vein was practically popping out of his forehead and no doubt so was yours. Nick silently thanked God for the table that was between you two.

You begin choking up your words and losing your breath, every word attempting to form was now a struggle, a new and harsh cough interrupting it. Chris's eyes widen and Matt abruptly stops. A silent second passes as all three of them stare at you, hoping for a false alarm, but your coughs get worse as you attempt to get some air in your lungs, failing to do so.

"Her inhaler." Matt yells, panicking immediately. Chris begins shuffling under his feet as Nick has no idea what he's supposed to do. Matt slaps Chris's shoulder, "Get her fucking inhaler, now." Matt orders Chris, the two of them sprinting to Matt's room to get it.

They come back in actual seconds, Matt's room turned to junk after throwing everything out of his drawers to find it. You never thought you'd have to use your inhaler, only ever using it once a year, more or less. Your asthma was mild, but this argument definitely triggered it. It was brought to your mouth in seconds, and you needed a full moment to get your chest working properly again.

Matt's expression was now plastered with worry and fear, every sort of angry bone in his body disappearing. Now, all that mattered to him was that you were okay. And honestly, once you could see straight, you had begun crying again.

"I'm sorry." Matt brushes the hair out of your face, strands sticking to your forehead from sweat, watching you uncontrollably bawl. "I'm so sorry."

Your tears were the hottest you've ever felt on your skin, and your eyes were glowing red from how much this all hurts. "Matt, I just can't do this. Either– Either tell me or fucking don't."

Nick helps you sit up and Matt swallows, deciding that he should just come clean with his behavior. But first, he needed his brothers out of here. He gave Chris a simple look and he nodded. "Nick, let's go."

And they were gone.

You had your eyes closed, all the energy in your body gone completely in one go as you waited for him to speak, a tear following another as it began to calm down. A few seconds pass as Matt tries to recoil his thoughts before finally talking.

"You hate touching me when we're anywhere that isn't a private setting." He starts, sighing through the sentence. "You'd flinch when my hand would even touch yours in the slightest. After a while, I began understanding that maybe that's just who you were. You know, not the biggest fan of public display affection, or whatever."

He swallows. "So, I got used to it. You hated it and I began working around it. Until tonight. You hugged me and kissed me in front of everyone, trying to do the things I would pray to try and do to you on the daily. I got confused." He swallowed. "You were embarrassed of me, and that's the conclusion I came up with. Deciding to touch me when the setting involved my friends." You furrow your eyebrows.

"As if.." He sighs and looks down, his chest breathing heavily as he stays like that for a moment. You opened your eyes and noticed he was about to cry. "Matt." You try to say, but your voice is hoarse and chalky.

"As if you wanted to give them this image that everything was all good. You're embarrassed of me on every single occasion except for this one, and it just fucked with my head."

You sat up fully this time. "Matt, are you nuts? Seriously?" You scoff, finally understanding everything. "I do what I do because I'm embarrassed of myself." You laugh at the irony. "If you pay attention, everytime I act this way is when we are in reach of any potential fan of yours." You say slow enough for him to process. "This restaurant was too fancy to have a deranged fan there. I was comfortable to be myself with you there because I knew that no stranger could misread the situation."

You fix a strand of hair quickly behind your ear before continuing. "I kissed you because I knew those people, and I knew that they wouldn't take a photo of it and post it on the internet without my permission, letting the internet speak absolute crap about me and judge me solely because I'm your girlfriend."

The scene was quiet as Matt registered your words, and you made sure the second was longer, replaying what he said back in your mind, as well as the entire fight that had just occurred. It all felt so pathetic to think about now, and the reason for it all finally dawned upon you two.

"All I wanted was to finally hug–and touch–my boyfriend tonight. But all I got was an anxiety attack, an ankle sprain, and a fucking asthma attack." You finish off with a stupid laugh.

He's silent for a moment before laughing, "I should've known. Seriously. God." He rubs his eyes and you see snippets of tears slip past his fingers. You get up and hug him, and he engulfs you in the embrace before you could fully even reach him.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way." The side of your head laid on his chest as you hugged him tightly, and he gradually took it tighter.

"No way you just apologized before me. I was supposed to do that." He sniffed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Sorry about that too."

He mutters your name and you look up, your chin on his chest. "I'm sorry for treating you that way. I feel like the worst human being on earth, and that's a fucking understatement." It was cute. Both of you guys are crying for the dumbest miscommunication ever. "I know." You say.

"Like, I somehow managed to fuck up so bad Chris had to be the one to comfort you tonight." He shook his head.

"Yeah. That was a crazy low you did for it to reach that point."

He shushes you. "I don't need reminders."

"You brought it up." You shrug. He nods, "Yeah. I guess so." He finally cracks a smile, and you follow the curves of his lips, unknowingly grinning with him.

"I really fucking missed you today." He admits, kissing your nose, your eyes fluttering shut before opening them back up immediately. "You have no idea, Matt. Promise to forget today?"

"Promise."

"Now let's go to your room, you need to get these splinters out of my feet."

"You got it, love."

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #the sturniolos #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo x you #angst #fluff #matt #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #stromboli #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas antonio sturniolo

[lilislegacy]

I love the idea of Percy becoming a marine veterinarian. Not because it would be easy, but because it wouldn’t be easy.

It would sound great and all, until he gets to vet school. And day 1 all he can think is “what the hell was I thinking?” This is all science. And most of vet school is about mammals, especially dogs, and he has to take specialty programs on the side for sea animals. He likes dogs and cats, and it is interesting, but that’s not why he’s here. Annabeth tells him to just learn as much as he can. So he does his best. He gets tutoring on the side. He makes good friends, and that helps a lot, but everyone there seems so much smarter than him. But annabeth and his friends help him study. He tries and he tries and he tries. He loves the marine animal programs he does. He thinks it’s so cool learning how sea animals function, and how the ocean/environment affects them. But the standard veterinary school course material is difficult for him to stay focused on. His grades aren’t the best, but he gets through it.

And after 3 years, he gets handed a white coat and stethoscope. And he feels like an imposter. He’s not a doctor! He’s not a healer like children of apollo. He’s not a genius like children of athena. He’s percy. This feels wrong. It feels good, and he’s proud of himself, but it also feels wrong.

Then his first day of residency, at a marine animal clinic, he is walking through his little orientation with the fellow residents and the attending vets. The first room they bring him into has a large water tub with a sea turtle in it. It’s not moving. It looks so sick and miserable. The head vet says that they’ve had this turtle for several months and just can’t figure out what’s wrong. She won’t eat, she won’t interact with other animals, she barely opens her eyes. They have decided to put her out of her misery, and tomorrow she will be euthanized. Percy steps away from the group and asks to approach her. He goes up to her, bends down, and put his hand on her shell. He telepathically asks what’s wrong, and she responds “My head. My head hurts so bad all the time. Ever since having my babies. It hurts to swim. It hurts to be in the light. I feel sick always. Please make the pain go away.” And Percy stands up and starts asking the attending vets questions about her history and her treatments. At first he panics because he doesn’t know what to do. But then he realizes… he does know what to do. He leaned this! So he suggests a treatment. Most of the vets in the room laugh or give him a doubtful look, but he begs them to try it anyway. So they do it, and within half an hour, this sweet sea turtle is happily swimming around the tub. She’s popping her head up to say hi. She’s even eating.

The other vets tried for months. No tests showed what was wrong. But Perseus Jackson walked in, spent two minutes staring at her, and cured her. Because he has powers that no one else has. The other vets only know how to read and observe signs, but Percy can listen to their symptoms.

And after that, every second of learning about animal anatomy and physiology was worth it. Because HE just got to save a sea turtle’s life. HIM!!

And that is why Percy Jackson very quickly becomes one of the best marine veterinarians in the field.

#screw all his teachers who said he was a lost cause #screw everyone who ever called him dumb #screw all the schools he got kicked out of #because percy jackson is the best marine vet the world has ever seen #percy jackson #percy’s career #pjo #heroes of olympus #pjo headcanon #percy jackson and the olympians #annabeth chase #marine vet percy

[underestimated-heroine]

The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.

This is the shrimp guy story:

From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:

>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before >he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock >several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life >do research, learn about water parameters and so on >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp >l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ >by this point I live and breathe shrimp >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos >l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself >l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart >l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew >We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.

He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."

And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.

Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.

#posts i actually wrote #cw radical feminism #cw transphobia #incels

[mediumgayitalian]

“You ready, Lou?”

“Duh.”

“Cecil? You’ve got full faith in your cabin?”

“Yep.”

“What about you, Will? Were your threats successful?”

“My bribes went wonderfully, thank you.”

“Then I think we’re a go.”

“Gods, this is going to be great.”

———

Knockknockknock.

Nico locks in on his game. He is so, so close to finally making it through this stupid quest, he can feel it, and if he doesn’t beat The Imprisoned before Percy he’s going to set the camp on fire.

Knockknockknock.

“Just — hold on a second!” He spams B, cursing loudly to himself, ignoring the twinge in his lower back from holding this position for so long. “Fuck, fuck, come on.” He clenches his teeth, knuckles white against the Wii remote, until finally — the boss falls. He cheers.

Fuck yes. Take that, Percy.

Tossing the remote on his bed, he jogs over to the door, sliding open the three bolts and unlocking the chains. On his porch is a blur of movement, hair frizzy and pulled-on, shirt rumbled.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth.”

She barely acknowledges him, focusing intently on pacing back and forth on the stone porch at the speed of light. He settles against the door frame, stretching out his spine, watching her mutter to herself.

“Chiron is leaving,” she says.

Nico raises an amused eyebrow. “I am aware.”

“With Mr. D. To some conference.”

“I heard.”

“He’s gone until early tomorrow evening.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He left me in charge.”

“Probably wise.”

“I need an allegiance, Nico.”

“Slow down and tell me what you mean, first.”

She sighs, coming to a stop in front of him. Her fingers still drum across her biceps, and her eyes dart around, evaluating. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip.

“Camp’s a lot of work,” she says finally. “I’ve never been in charge of so many people at once before, and like hell am I gonna let Chiron think I can’t handle it. I have a Plan, and you’re a part of it.”

Nico resists the urge to groan. Chiron leaving is supposed to mean he gets the next day or so off — no classes, no socializing, nothing. Just him in his cabin and the genuinely disgusting amount of junk food he has amassed.

(…And Will. Maybe.)

“It’s nothing crazy,” she promises. “I just need you to lurk.”

“…Lurk?”

“Yeah, you know. Chill in the shadows and scare people into complacency. You don’t even need to do much, just that thing where you stare at people like you know the exact day they’re going to die.”

“I do love lurking,” Nico admits. And to basically have a free pass to scare the shit out of whoever he wants… “I’ll do it.”

She smiles brightly. “Thanks, Nico! I knew I could count on you. I’ll meet up with you right after Chiron heads out, okay? To give you a list of people to keep your eye on.”

“Sure. Bye, Annabeth.”

“See ya!”

He closes the door and pads back to his setup, shaking the remote to get it going again. He can’t quite shake the smirk off his face.

The next twenty four hours are going to rock.

———

“Swiper No Swiping, initiate phase one.”

“Roger that, Sunny Dick.”

“…I’m revoking your code name priveledges.”

“No no no, I’m sorry, I’ll change it.”

———

Before Chiron leaves, he gathers them all in the amphitheatre.

“Children,” he calls, adjusting the bow slung across his back. “I am leaving now for my conference. I will be back before the sun sets tomorrow.” He gestures towards Annabeth, standing stiffly beside him. “Annabeth is in charge. Consider all my authority transferred to her before I return, am I understood?”

“Yes, Chiron,” courses the camp, some with significantly more attitude than others. Across the gathered crowd, Will catches his eye and winks. (Well, tries to. He has yet to catch on to the fact that he cannot, actually, wink, and instead just blinks really intentionally. Kayla and Austin have sworn him to secrecy.) Nico rolls his eyes, ears burning, and looks away.

“Good. Regular rules; no maiming, killing, or injuries above level seven. Any arson will result in a revoking of dessert privileges. Yes, Julia, even if you help in putting out the arson. It is the fire that is the issue, you understand. Excellent.” He claps his hands together. “I am looking forward to one day of peace. Try to avoid ruining it for me too quickly. Goodbye, children.”

With a wave and a fond squeeze of Annabeth’s shoulder, he trots over to Half-Blood Hill, ignoring Mr. D’s loud complaining about how long he took. With a snap of Mr. D’s fingers, they disappear. For a brief, uncanny moment, everything is still.

“Alright,” Annabeth shouts, clapping her hands together. Nico jumps. “Dinner is in an hour. Whoever is the first to fuck something up will be doing dishes. I will be watching. Dismissed.”

Wading through the swathes of ambling teenagers, she walks by where Nico is leaning against a pillar, half-hidden in the shadows.

“Lurk,” she orders, passing him.

Nico shoots her a mocking salute, fading into the shadow behind him. He barely catches her grin before he dissolves into the darkness.

———

“Phase two in effect. Ready to go, Sabrina Spellman?”

“Prepped to go, Teletubbies Sun Baby.”

“I hate both of you.”

———

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, fists clenched at her sides, entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point. Idiots.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, hand to his chest, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name. Annabeth glares at the boxes with perhaps more disdain than the situation calls for.

Then again.

It is camp.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Like a hound dog locking in on a bleeding squirrel, Annabeth’s eyes narrow. Her lips spread into wide, frankly maniacal smirk.

“Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

Caught.

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid.”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding dawns on her quickly.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you, how’s that for fun. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a wide grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

———

“Is he still looking?”

“No.”

“Okay, Phase Three, let’s go let’s go let’s go —”

———

Every time Nico wakes with the sun, he sets aside twenty minutes of his morning routine to curse Apollo, his father, Apollo again, Phanes, and Prometheus. In that order.

He does like the bonus of getting breakfast. Usually he sleeps through it and has to hope Will saved him coffee cake, which he does, every time, because he wants to bribe his way into Nico’s affections. But there is something to be said about camp coffee cake when it is still warm, crumbly on the top and soft on the inside. It is a rare and occasionally worth-it treat, and on his bleary walk to the dining pavilion, Nico tries to keep this in the forefront of his mind. Fresh coffee cake. Fresh coffee. Fresh fruit. And Will, probably, not that seeing him is worth getting up early or anything. (So what that he gets all excited and energetic when he sees Nico up in the morning. If anything it’s embarrassing for him.)

For once, he’s actually early enough that there are very few people already at breakfast. He sees most of the Athena kids, still half-asleep over their mugs, and pretty much every camper under the age of eleven. A few head counsellors, too, watching out for the little ones or catching up on a rare moment of quiet. Nico makes a beeline for the breakfast spread, cutting a slice of coffee cake to leave on the platter and putting the rest of it on his plate. He puts a single strawberry in the middle of it so no one can accuse him of being unhealthy, then ambles over to the Apollo table.

“Neeks? Where’re you going?”

Nico pauses. He shifts his plate to one hand, rubbing at his bleary eyes. He looks at the Apollo table. He counts one, two, three heads — Kayla, Austin, and…Cecil?

“Nico? You good, babes?”

He turns, slowly, to face the voice. Picking at a plate full of pineapple, next to Reika Onason, Lou Ellen's sister, is Will.

“I know mornings are hard for you, but you’re meant to eat at your table,” he teases. “Come sit, doofus. Unless you’re taking advantage of Chiron’s absence to make friends elsewhere, I guess, but it seems unlike you.”

“You’re — what’re you — what?“ Nico says dumbly, struggling to reconcile the imagine in front of him.

For some reason, Will is eating his breakfast at the Hecate table.

And that is not all.

For some reason, his camp shirt does not say head medic. For some reason, he is wearing black jeans. For some reason, dozens of Celestial bronze rings adorn his fingers, carved with sigils. For some reason, his hair is clipped back, and there is black eyeliner around his bright blue eyes, and his nails are painted darker than Nico’s, and he is sitting at the Hecate table.

“What are you doing?”

“Having…breakfast,” Will says slowly. His lips turn down in concern. “Nico, are you okay?”

“I’m fine! It’s — you’re the one acting weird!”

Will and Reika exchange a look.

“Maybe you should go see Cecil,” Will suggests carefully. “Did you sleep okay last night? Maybe you hit your head —”

Nico looks desperately back at the Apollo table. They watch him strangely now, too, and after a second Cecil gets up from his — Will’s — seat, and walks over.

“Everything okay?” he asks, impish expression almost serious. “You look pale, Nico.”

“I’m worried,” Will says. “He’s acting — confused, Cece, maybe there’s a —”

“I’m not confused,” Nico scowls. “You two are — doing something.” He gestures vaguely between them. “As revenge for yesterday.”

Will snorts. “What, the potatoes? Don’t let Lou hear you discredit her like that. If you think she’d plan some revenge prank on you this early, you don’t know her at all.”

Nico’s head starts to hurt. He sets down his plate, rubbing his temples. Why would Lou Ellen be so bothered by that? Why isn’t she here, with her sister? What the hell is going on?

“Both of you — cut it out. Whatever dumbass prank you’re pulling is just stupid.”

“Did I hear something about a prank?” Bounding over from the camp store, arms laden with contraband junk food, is Lou Ellen, smiling brightly. “Whatever it is, I want in!”

“Oh, thank the gods, you’re back.” Will makes grabby hands at the pile. She tosses him a pack of twizzlers off the top, rolling her eyes as he tears into like he didn’t just polish off two and a half entire pineapples and three bowls of oatmeal. “I was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m not helping you when your stomach cramps up,” Cecil promises, snorting. His eyes follow the candy ropes in their harried journey towards Will's gaping maw. “You can sit in your misery.”

“Bleh bleh bleh.”

Nico narrows his eyes at them. Clearly, they’re all in on this — bit, or whatever it is. It’s a little too coordinated to be a quickly-planned revenge prank. They must have had a backup to the potatoes, although a pretty weak one. Unless they somehow managed to bribe the entire camp into agreeing to act along with their dumbassery, and Nico knows none of them can come even close to affording that, then all it takes is one person on Nico’s side before their little ruse is broken.

“It’s too early for this,” Nico says, interrupting their bickering. He picks up his breakfast and trudges off to his actual table, ignoring Will’s pouting. He has to brush the dust off the bench, but it’s worth it to avoid whatever headache the three of them will inevitably give him.

Coffee cake, save him.

———

“It’s not looking good, Katara —”

“I actually like that one.”

“— he’s totally onto us.”

“Just stick to the plan. Power onto Phase Four.”

———

To Nico's great satisfaction, many other people do double takes as they walk into breakfast.

As the Athena table, minus Annabeth, who is likely putting out a literal or metaphorical fire somewhere, wakes up, they start to notice the strange seating situation. It starts with Malcolm, who stares at Cecil in a lab coat with the same expression Nico has seen him wear when attempting to solve the Hodge conjecture. He leans over to murmur something in his brother’s ear, and then all seven of them are looking between the Hecate, Apollo, and mostly-empty Hermes tables with suspicious frowns and furrowed brows.

Nico catches Will’s eye, smirking.

Game’s up, he mouths. Will only shrugs innocently at him.

It’s Annabeth who finally puts a stop to the nonsense, striding in at the tail end of the rest of the slowly-waking crowd. She has grass in her hair and murder in her eyes.

Excellent.

“I swear to the gods, I just dealt with you three,” she snaps, raising her voice so they all can hear her. Coincidentally, it attracts the attention of every other nosy person at camp, which is everybody. “Just ‘cause Chiron’s not here doesn’t mean the rules go out the window. Back to your tables, let’s move.”

“We’re at our tables,” Cecil protests. “Why do people keep saying that?”

Annabeth takes a very deep, very long breath. She has a whole day of this, too. How unfortunate for her.

“Maybe because you are full of shit, Markowitz. Go sit with the rest of you troublemakers.”

Kayla clears her throat. “Annabeth, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Her thin eyebrows are drawn tightly together, lips turned down into a frown. “Cecil is exactly where he’s supposed to be.”

That gives her pause.

That gives a lot of people pause. Nico sets down his coffee cake.

“Cecil’s at the Apollo table,” Annabeth says slowly.

Kayla meets her gaze, face creased in concern. “...Yeah, I know.”

“Cecil is a Hermes kid, Kayla.”

She snorts. “Yeah, sometimes I think so, too. But as much as I would absolutely love to trade my brother —”

“Hey!”

“He’s a healer, Annabeth. He got claimed and everything.”

��I don’t have time for this,” Annabeth says, dragging her hand down her face. “Kayla, I don’t know what they paid you —”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” With a clatter of plates, Will clambers on the table, clapping his hands. “Your attention please, everyone!”

Without so much as a pause, Will claps his hands together. Immediately, a ball of green light expands from them, flashing almost too bright to look at. Nico watches, slack jawed, as he tosses it into the air, making it explode into a thousand little sparkles, descending gently over everyone’s heads. The little kids laugh in delight, reaching for them like they’re bubbles.

“Does that settle things?” he demands.

Silence rings for one, two, three seconds.

The camp erupts.

Dozens of voices overlap, all shouting over each other at once. Hands gesture wildly at Will, at Cecil, at Lou — trying to piece things together. Will is their head medic — isn’t he? Then why is Cecil wearing scrubs? And why is Lou chilling at the Hermes’ table, chatting with Julia over a bowl of cereal? Something isn’t right.

“Just — everybody quiet!”

It takes a minute, but everyone settles down, sitting back in their seats and fidgeting, looking around with half-confused, half-amused smiles. Like they’re laughing at a joke they’re half convinced is real.

“Who thinks this —” Annabeth makes some vaguely indicative movement at Will, Lou, and Cecil — “is weird? Raise your hand.”

Almost all hands go up. Only a handful stay down — Will, Lou Ellen, and Cecil, of course, but the entirety of the Hermes cabin stays oddly silent, as do Kayla, Austin, Reika, and, shockingly, Clovis.

“Stoll,” Nico demands before Annabeth gets the chance, “you’re buying this?”

“Buying what?” Connor says after a moment. He shrugs, eyes twinkling in amusement. “I’m just chillin’ with my sister, Nico. Cecil is great, but he hasn’t been in our cabin since he got claimed.”

The rest of the Hermes kids nod in agreement. Whispers filter through the tables — first Kayla, now all the Hermes kids?

“If I may,” interjects Clovis, yawning. “There’s an…energy, around.”

“Gods, yeah, I was feeling it too,” Will agrees frantically. “Almost a…blanket, of some kind. Something heavy and stifling.”

Malcolm looks over with interest. “You think we got cursed, or something? The whole camp?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe? Can’t think of any other reason you guys are remembering things weird.”

“It could be a god’s interference,” Nyssa suggests, raising her voice to be heard from the Hephaestus table. “I mean, that’s what happened to Jason and Leo and Piper, right? Their memories got fudged.”

“Yeah, but camp-wide…”

“Could still be possible.”

“There’s no way! They’re fucking with us, come on —”

It doesn’t take long for the arguing to start up again. This time, though, more people looked spooked — more people look to the dumbass trio themselves, eyes wide like they’re looking at ghosts.

Like they’re believing this shit.

Nico scowls, shoving away from his table and stomping over to his boyfriend.

“You are so full of shit I can smell you from across the room,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the noise.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” He wiggles his fingers in Nico’s direction. They spark with the same green light. “Want me to switch your eyes and ears again?”

That sounds horrifying. “Try it and die.”

“Alright, grouchy.” He holds his hands up, stepping back from Nico’s glare. “I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Alarm bells go off in Nico’s head. This is more than just strange, it’s wrong. And not just ‘cause he looks different — so what if he looks different. Will could shave his head bald and tattoo himself purple, Nico wouldn’t care.

But his aura.

The essence of Will, that Nico has grown so used to be stopped noticing. The quiet, warmth strength, the feeling of a soft breeze in the summer, of walking past a window in the late afternoon, of smokey August campfires and scratchy guitar, is gone. Is different, rather; almost blocked. It feels like a cloud blowing over the sun, making everything warped and off and shadowy.

Something is afoot. Something is wrong, and not just some vague, made-up spell like the Trickster Trio would have the camp believe. Something like smoke and mirrors, something shadier.

He watches Will fall into step next to Cecil, ducking away from his ruffling hand. He frowns.

If there’s one thing Nico can do, it’s wade through the shadows.

———

next

#can anyone guess what these dumb ass mother fuckers did. #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo & will solace #solangelo #established solangelo #will solace & cecil markowitz & lou ellen blackstone #annabeth chase #nico di angelo & annabeth chase #my writing #fic #longpost

[literaila]

do you think... that in private... reader baby talks satoru? 🧍🏻‍♀️idk why i thought of this i just find it funny if they actually do this

"who's my baby, hm?"

"meeee >o<"

in private??? in public.

“oh, sorry,” you say, grabbing satoru’s arm to pull him away. “my child has no spacial awareness.”

“we’re married,” he tells the person he just literally body checked, and then he turns away—dragging you by your hold.

or

“don’t mess with the baby,” you tell tsumiki, admiring the eyeshadow you just painted on his lids. “he’s sleeping.”

she giggles as satoru’s nose twitches. you’ll be taking a million pictures of this view before he wakes up, obviously.

or

“sweetheart.”

“no, satoru. leave me alone.”

“how can this be my fault?”

“everything’s your fault,” you say, sticking your nose in the air and avoiding his eyes. you will not treat this with any maturity, thank you. “i’ve already established that.”

“okay, but i didn’t mean to,” he whines, trying to grab onto your face, only for you to push him away.

“go away, satoru, im not speaking to you.”

“that’s not my name.”

you just roll your eyes.

“sweetheart,” he says again, stepping in front of you. “princess, love of my life. i told her that i was happily married.”

“you said sorry!”

“i was being polite! you’re always getting on me about being respectful, and checking my ego, and remembering that i’m not the only important person in the world, blah blah, other stuff i forget.”

you huff, crossing your arms when he tries to grab your hand. “you said ‘sorry, but i’m married.’ are you sorry, satoru? does our fake marriage cause you pain?”

“fake?” he says, voice broken, hand to his chest. “why would you say that?”

you roll your eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. “whenever you want to propose, i’ll start accepting this matrimony you’re so obsessed with.”

“see? i’ve made my plans very clear.”

“you’re already sorry about our marriage that doesn’t even exist.”

“and you call me dramatic.”

“okay, satoru—“

“—don’t know who that is.”

you scoff. “if a man came up and asked me out and i said ‘i’m sorry, but my husbands just around the corner—‘“

“see! married!”

“‘i’m sorry, but i’m engaged. oh, what? no ring? that’s just cause he’s really broke—‘“

“false!”

“‘i’m sorry, but i already have a ball and chain weighing me down.’”

“that’s it,” satoru says, and then he hikes you up onto the counter by your waist, and digs his fingers into your ribs.

it takes barely a second of his torture before you’re gasping yet breathless, feeling that familiar giddiness racing through your heart.

“satoru! satoru! okay, i forgive you, i’m—“ you laugh, trying to pull at his hair, which only makes him lean over you and nuzzle his face into your shoulder. “satoru, please, just—“

“who are you speaking to, again?”

“baby! baby, mercy, please.”

“that’s me,” satoru says, grinning as he stands up again.

“i’m still not calling you my husband in public,” you say, in between breaths.

“we’ll work on that.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

[gay-dorito-dust]

Do you think you could write some hcs about HSR men comforting reader who woke up from a nightmare?

Bonus if the source of the nightmare was Silver Wolf telling scary stories.

Argenti

Would immediately wake up the moment he senses that your sleep was being disturbed.

‘My sweet, what’s troubling you?’ He’d ask you, his eyes shone with concern.

‘Just got spooked by the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You tell him.

‘Aww my beloved rose.’ He coos softly.

‘I know it’s stupid.’ You scoffed.

‘Oh no, not at all.’ He replied as he scooted himself closer to you and brought his hands up to hold your face and used his finger pads to caress your skin soothingly.

‘It’s okay to be scared for it is a reaction shared amongst all beings, but you should never feel such a way when I’m here to keep you safe.’ Argenti said as he presses his forehead to yours and began to hum a sweet, tender melody that swiftly had you drifting off back sleep within seconds.

‘Goodnight my beloved rose.’ He whispered after performing his song, pressing a kiss to your forehand and followed you in the dream realm where he could continue protecting you.

Welt

When Welt saw you had woken yourself from a nightmare and were obviously still reeling from the effects, he would wordlessly bring you into his arms slowly enough as not to frighten you and have you rest your head against his chest.

‘Are you comfortable in telling me what happened?’ He asks barely above a whisper.

‘It’s stupid.’ You replied, voice muffled from the way your face was pressed against his chest.

‘Not if it’s got you frightened this badly.’ He says against your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back soothingly.

‘It was the story Silver Wolf told last night.’ You finally tell him after debating on it for a bit.

‘It was truly a well put together story,’ Welt began as he recalled the events of last night and how tense you were the entire time, ‘I must admit I was slightly taken aback at times.’

You raised your head from his chest to look him in his warm eyes. ‘You were scared too?’ You asked.

‘Kind of.’ Welt chuckles as he brought your head back to his chest and press several kisses to your forehead. ‘Now if I’m allowed, I would like to tell you a story of my own. I must preference this beforehand that it’s not a well written one, but I hope it brings you comfort regardless.’

‘Please.’ You pleaded as you burrowed yourself further against his chest, practically clinging on to him. ‘Anything you say is better than nothing.’ You added.

‘Very well then.’ Welt cleared his throat. ‘There once was a young lady with vibrantly pink hair who had an…habit of wandering into places she probably shouldn’t have. This is merely one story out of many, many, many others…’

Blade

Is an extremely light sleeper, so any movement you made was picked up almost immeditly and he was more than ready to grab his sword when he felt your breath hitch in your throat.

He genuinely thought you were in danger, only to find out you had just woken up from a nightmare.

‘What’s wrong.’ He’d ask gruffly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

‘Nothing.’ You replied.

‘Bullshit.’ He scoffs.

‘Fine it was the scary story Silver Wolf told.’ You admitted and Blade raised a brow.

‘You do know none of it’s real right?’ He then asks while biting back a yawn.

‘Yeah no shit but that doesn’t stop the fact that it really freaked me the fuck out.’ You told him as you looked away from him, knowing you weren’t going to get much comfort out of him, seeing as how he’s never known a day of it.

Blade sighed when you showed him your back, knowing you were expecting to be comforted, as he then shuffles himself behind you and puts his arms over your waist all the while caging you against his chest.

‘Nothings going to get you, I won’t allow it.’ He reminds you as he burrows his face into your neck. ‘So there’s no need to be afraid when I’m here and am willing to put body on the line if it meant you sleeping soundly. What’s a few new scars compared to the old.’ He adds as he kept his eyes locked onto the door to the bedroom for a while, just long enough for you to comfortably go back to sleep before following soon after.

#hsr imagines #hsr imagine #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #Honkai star rail imagine #Honkai star rail imagines #welt yang imagines #welt yang imagine #welt yang x reader #welt x reader #argenti x reader #Argenti imagine #Argenti imagines #blade imagines #blade imagine #blade x reader #hsr blade x reader #hsr blade x you #hsr argenti x reader #hsr welt x reader

[noxturnalpascal]

Devotion 🖤

II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 8)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

PREVIOUS

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 8 (6.6k) | The Night You Left |

Joel barely sleeps, tossing and turning in his bed with his clothes on, knuckles bloody and burning, throat raw from screaming. He wakes up to hushed whispers outside his door and he throws it open, inexplicably hoping to see you out there. Instead he sees a sea of terrified faces, Sasha tucking Beth behind her, Tess peering out from the bathroom with Rosie holding a cold cloth over her swollen face. Kerri is further down the hall, sweeping up chunks of drywall and dust on the floor from the holes he’d punched into the wall hours earlier. 

He looks back towards Tess. Fuck. She looks awful, already two swollen black eyes and a split lip. What kind of a monster does that to someone? 

“Tess, I–”

“I’ll be alright Joel,” she reassures. “Why don’t you head over to the baths and get cleaned up?”

She knows he can’t be seen in the state he’s in. What would people think? They’d think he’d fuckin’ lost it is what they’d think. And they’d be right.

Joel heads to the old plaza, a ten minute walk down the street and around the corner, to the old salon now serving as the town bath house. This early in the morning he knows no one is going to be here so he lets himself in through the back door. He checks the tank of the town’s only working hot water heater and begins to fill one of the stock tank tubs, shucking his clothes off and climbing in. The water stings his raw knuckles as he scrubs at his body, washing away bits of dusty drywall and blood – his or Tess’, he can’t tell.

Fuck, he fucked up. He shouldn’t have reacted like that. He shouldn’t have done that to Tess. This is what you fucking do to him, this is the effect you have on him. You bring out the worst in him. All you ever did was distract him, tempt him, tease him, and reject him. He saved your life, fed you, clothed you, protected you, and put a roof over your head. And how did you repay him?

Resentment. Neglect. Defiance. Abandonment.

What did he even see in you? He thought you were brave, but you were so soft on the inside. He thought you were smart, but he watched you act like such a fucking fool. He thought you were beautiful, but you wouldn’t even let him say it. He thought you were wild, but he tamed you so easily. He was wrong about you. He tells himself that he’s glad you’re gone and that he’s better off without you around anyway.

—

The first Thursday without you, Joel takes Beth to the meeting, despite complaining that he’d rather go alone. Beth had already gotten to work making clothes and this would be a good opportunity for her to give some out to the families that lived further out of town, at least that’s what Tess had said. He’d never admit it, but he held his breath when a group of people led by the tall and imposing Hank walked in the room, someone else trailing just behind. Several people shifted and Joel saw it was just Hank’s little girl, blushing bright red when she caught him looking at her. 

Shit. He’s not sure why he let himself think it might be you. Hank hadn’t brought you to the church meeting on Sunday so why did he let that tightness grow in his stomach thinking he’d bring you to the Thursday meetings the way he used to bring Beth? Whatever. He doesn’t even want to see you. He continues to be in a foul mood all week and despite pleading with Tess for forgiveness – which she gives him – all the women in the house seem to avoid him.

The second Thursday he notices Hank’s young daughter, who’d introduced herself several times as Amber, following his every move, watching him, sitting next to him, hanging on his every word with rapt attention. The little girl must have a crush. How inconvenient. But wait, he might be able to use this to his advantage. He’d noticed you ducking behind Hank’s oversized frame at church the past Sunday, avoiding him like the plague, and decided he was going to give you a taste of your own medicine. 

Fuck you, you little ingrate, he’s gonna ignore the shit out of you right back.

He purposely avoided looking in your direction during his speech and sat with his back to you during dinner. He made sure to act like the perfect leader, loving and gentle, graciously accepting people’s well wishes for Tess’ illness – the cover-up for why she’d been in the house for over a week while her face healed up. Within earshot of you he gives attention to every other female Valley member, even going so far as to bring people into his embrace, hugging them tight. 

He’s like an oily politician – kissing babies and shaking hands – but he hopes you see it all. He hopes you feel sick over it, feel jealous, feel regret. He hopes you feel the loneliness rotting in your gut like he does. But how will he know? How will he know if he can’t see you, can’t talk to you? He needs access to you, someone for you to confide in, someone on the inside. Little Amber will do nicely. 

He strikes up a conversation with her, bumping up the charm to an eleven. He opens with some mildly flirtatious banter, asks some questions about her – women love that shit – before getting to the point.

“Hear you got a new roommate over there,” he postures casually.

“Yeah, she’s great,” Amber beams.

“She is?”

“Oh– ummm,” her brow furrows. “Isn’t she?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckles, “You tell me.”

“She’s alright, yeah… I mean, she– she’s fine.”

“Well you should let me know if she does anything to bother you.” His voice is smooth and buttery.

“I should?”

“Well yeah,” Joel touches his hand briefly to her chin, “I gotta make sure you’re happy, don’t I?” 

“Oh,” she giggles, face flushing immediately.

“So make sure you tell me what’s goin’ on, okay?”

“Yeah I will,” she tries to suppress her smile. “I– I definitely will.”

“Anything at all, even if you think it might not be important.” He makes sure she’s looking at him and drops his voice an octave. “Anything at all, okay, sweetheart?” He winks to seal the deal.

It was almost too easy, turning little Amber into his own private mole. Every Thursday he gave her a couple minutes of attention and she folded, playing right into his hand and spilling everything you two had talked about over the past week. She told him where you went, what you did, who you talked to, and even what anyone else in the house said about you. Apparently Hank’s wife was missing Beth and Joel briefly thinks of telling Tess to make a switch back, but then gets angry at you again and changes his mind.

You don’t deserve his forgiveness, you’re not missing him enough, not even close to being as miserable as you could be. Amber had told him that you’d cried yourself to sleep almost every night the first week but then the other day after the church meeting he’d watched you hunch down behind little Amber – barely five feet tall – trying to hide from him. Your stubborn pride is gonna make it even more satisfying when you come crawling back to him, begging him to let you come back home.

Amber tells him when you’ve stopped crying at night but says you still spend a lot of time on your own, wandering the edges of the property. She catches you up in the hayloft all the time, or napping with the baby goats. She says you don’t spend any time with Danny or Diego, the ranch hands, so he resists his urges to take them by the collar and threaten to bury them alive if they so much as look at you.

—

Joel woke up in the mornings feeling empty, like his chest had been broken open and hollowed out, all of his internal organs scooped onto the ground. The only thing that remained inside him was a deep-seated ache. He tried to soothe it with conversation but Tess didn’t want to hear it, kept telling him it’s better this way and to move on. He tried to temper his loneliness with touch, but when he reached for Sasha’s hand after dinner one night she ripped it out of his grip. One evening, in a particularly weak moment, he nuzzled into Kerri’s neck while she was washing dishes, her hands occupied and covered in suds. 

“Oh,” she squeaked, startled by his touch.

“Hey,” he said, muffled against her skin, twitching under the brush of his beard.

“I’m not really–” she started.

He didn’t let her finish. He was out of the room before she could even finish her sentence. How fucking pathetic was he? He didn’t even want her – not really – and she couldn’t even stand to be touched by him. This is what you’ve done to him, this is what you’ve made him. He’s been ruined by you.

When it's been just over a month since you left, things at the house finally get back to a sense of normalcy again. For a while, Tess was the only one speaking to him, and besides the Thursday meetings Beth was assigned to accompany him to, she avoided him like the plague. Kerri wouldn’t meet his eyes, Rosie shuffled away from him whenever he entered a room, and Sasha gave him dirty looks every time she passed him in the halls. But with time, things were improving. There was a low hum of conversations around the dinner table now – none of them involving him – but at least everyone else was happy.

The following Sunday Amber traps him in a corner and starts saying shit about coming to live with him. He has no idea where she got this idea in her head but she keeps trying to touch the buttons on his shirt and he’s doing everything in his power not to swat her little fucking hands away. He sees Tess giving him a look and he knows. He knows he needs to get away from her, that people can see him, that people will talk. What if you see him? You’re never gonna come back home if you think he’s messing around with this annoying child. He has to stop using her for information, he has to cut her off.

The following Thursday marks the end of February and Amber’s reports have gotten brief and repetitive. Walks alone along the pastures, always has her nose in a book at bedtime, late to every meal (much to her mother’s chagrin). She tells him that you only leave the farm on Sundays for church and on Wednesdays for your bath, having to settle for a weekly wash at the Covered Bridge Inn another mile down the road with some of the other farming families. He bets you’re missing your three soaks a week since you left town.

Joel decides to cut Amber off then and there, she’s not giving him anything he doesn’t already know and he needs more, he wants more. He needs to fill that emptiness inside him and you’re the only thing that can make him feel whole again. He’s barely looked at you in weeks, always avoiding watching you directly, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of thinking he gives a fuck. He doesn’t, not really. He just wants to soothe the hole you left. He convinces himself he just needs a taste, just needs a peek. He just needs to see if you’re missing him, to make sure you’re suffering the way he is, the way you should be. He wants to see it for himself. Then he can get over you – move on – like Tess says he should.

He waits until the following Wednesday and makes a trip out to the Mansfield’s farm when he knows you’ll be gone for your bath. Only Hank remains on the farm to greet him but is honored and excited by Joel’s presence. Joel makes up something about wanting to visit Hank because of how much he respects all of his hard work, but asks Hank to not spread the word lest the other farmers be jealous. Hank nods in agreement as he shows Joel around the property and then welcomes him into his humble home.

When Joel excuses himself to use the bathroom he takes a walk around the upstairs, checking each bedroom to find yours, recognizing it when he sees one of your old shirts on the bed. He lifts your pillow to his face, huffing in your familiar scent. Under your pillow is a book, paperback cover worn and tattered, Of Mice and Men by John Steinback. Joel stuffs it in his waistband and pulls his shirt back down, heading back downstairs to tell Hank he should get going.

There’s no mention of his visit by his little spy the next night so, he assumes Hank kept it a secret and you were none the wiser. He wants to go to the farm again, he wants to have another piece of you. Just one more taste, just one more. He waits until late in the day on the following Wednesday and, avoiding traps he and his patrols helped set, he rides out and sneaks onto the property from the neighboring fields. Hank is working out in the far pasture and doesn’t even notice Joel’s surreptitious arrival.

The house is unlocked and he goes straight to your room, this time laying down in your bed, letting himself soak in the scent of you wafting off the sheets. He thinks of you crawling in the bed every night at the end of a long day working your ass off on this farm, a big change from the cushy life you had back home. He knows you only get a bath once a week here, and he can smell your scent on the sheets strongly. He smells sweat, dirt, farm animals, and a trace of tangy milk. You must change the sheets when you get back from your bath. This must be the most pungent they smell all week.

He grabs his dick overtop his pants, he can feel it already hard and aching at the thought of you. He wishes he had more time to lie here, to really be able to enjoy himself, but he made up an excuse to Tess and she’ll be suspicious if he’s gone too long. He takes his hand away from the front of his pants and instead grabs your pillow, throwing it over his face to breathe it in a final time. He gets up, adjusting himself, and takes a step towards the door before he doubles back and snatches your pillowcase off the pillow, stuffing it down the front of his shirt.

—

He’s panting slightly as he makes his way in the back door of his house, having had to jog from the stables, cutting through the town park so he’d be back before Tess started wondering where he was. Kerri gives him a sideways glance and an empty smile, quickly turning her head back to her meal preparation. Tess and Sasha come up from the basement holding jars of preserved vegetables. 

“Where you been?” Tess asks.

“I told you,” he tries to stifle his heavy breathing. “I had to help Peter out with his solar panel issue.”

“But Peter’s wife Georgia just came by here not even ten minutes ago and asked how you were doin’,” she says, looking confused.

“Yeah well it wasn’t at his house,” Joel thinks quickly. “He’s been tryin’ to get it fixed up for little old Miss Betty, out– umm… over there by the woods.” He picked the most remote, home-bound person he could think of, hoping it would cover his ass.

“Oh, she needs power? For what?” she asks, setting down the jars on the counter with Sasha, not giving Joel her full attention anymore. He uses the opportunity to move out of the kitchen towards his office.

“I dunno, just helpin’ out Peter,” he says and then ducks out of the room before she can question him further. 

Once he closes his office door he pulls out your pillowcase from under his shirt and balls it up to his face, sniffing it more. He sticks it in the bottom desk drawer under the maps, where he keeps your lost pair of underwear, your rejected christmas gift, and the book he took from under your pillow on his previous visit. Something scratches at him from deep inside, something that might resemble guilt. He shakes it off. He has nothing to feel guilty for. If you want underwear, books, or your pillowcase so bad you can come back home and have them. 

—

He can’t even wait until next Wednesday to go over to the farm. Sunday morning rolls around – he’s spent all weekend planning this moment – and he gives a well-rehearsed speech to Tess about being sick. He doubles over in his bed and clutches his middle, groaning until her face softens and she puts the back of her hand to his forehead the way his mom used to. She brings him some water and rice and tells him to get some rest before heading to the services with everyone else in the house.

Once he’s left alone he jumps out of bed, throwing the covers off like a child on Christmas morning. He knew that if he went to church he’d be able to see you, maybe fill a little bit of his craving. But since he doesn’t really look at you, how much of you can he actually see? Knowing that Hank would bring your entire household to the service meant the farmhouse would be empty. He can sneak over there while everyone is preoccupied and have his fill of your scent, of the ghost of your presence. He needs this, he tells himself, he needs a little bit more before he stops, before he gets over you.

He doesn’t want to take a horse this time, wants to leave no trace of where he’s going or risk anyone seeing him riding out. Most of the town is at the church service but he wants to be extra cautious. He heads out the back door and ducks into the trees beyond the yard, making the long way around the populated square to hit the fence-line. He finds a well-worn path through two fence sections and, avoiding the traps he knows are there, darts south towards the farm. 

Joel’s knees are aching by the time he hits Hank’s property, heart pounding and feet throbbing, having set a brutal pace to make the trip in just about thirty minutes. His chest is heaving to catch his breath as he crosses over the creek and walks up the small hill to the old farmhouse standing like a silent monument above the pastures.

He takes his time on this visit, going through your side of the dresser, recognizing the clothes you had before, touching the fabric with his fingers that he would feel beneath his touch whenever he held you in the mornings. He looks in the closet – mostly Amber’s clothes – but sees a nice dress in there he assumes Hank intended for you to wear to church. Joel’s never seen you in a dress, maybe no one here has either, since you’ve certainly never worn this one. 

He takes off his clothes and climbs in your bed, lying face flat on your pillow, and smells you. Not your soap or shampoo, but you, the real you. The you he used to smell when you were at home, when you were in his arms, when you were his. Before you left him, before you broke him, before he was empty. He slowly humps against the bed – his cock rubbing the worn, softened sheets – and thinks of you. 

He imagines you coming back and catching him, throwing your arms and legs around him, crying how much you miss him and kissing him until he agrees to take you home. His come spills on your sheets and he throws the blanket back over top, leaving the mess for you to find. Part of him hopes you know it was him. He puts half his clothes on and then begins to get sleepy, having stayed up half the night going over and over in his head his plans for today. He lies down on top of the bed just to rest his eyes for a moment.

He doesn’t hear the horses pull up with the wagon outside, or the door opening and people entering the house downstairs. He doesn’t hear anything until there’s footsteps on the stairs coming towards where he’s still half naked and just awake. Shit. He jumps up and grabs the rest of his clothes off the floor, kicking his boots under your bed and jumping in the closet just as Amber bursts in the room, humming a hymn and babbling about how she wants to make soup to send to him. You hum in assent but otherwise say nothing.

He wishes he could see you, but he’s pushed himself into the closet and to the side as much as possible. He is half-covered by a mothball-smelling crocheted cardigan and a mildew-smelling old raincoat. He hears the soft sounds of fabric and the wooden creak of dresser drawers, then you both silently shuffle out of the room and down the stairs. He waits a long time until he's sure the coast is clear and manages to get himself dressed, pull on his shoes, and make it downstairs. 

He hides in a closet for several hours, hearing Amber and her mother all around the first floor, cleaning and cooking and gossipping to each other. Where are you? Are you in the hayloft like Amber said you like to be? Are you feeding goats or milking cows? He wants to see you but he knows he has to go, knows he’s stayed too long. Everyone has been back at his house for hours and Tess will most definitely be wondering where the fuck he went to. 

It’s mid-afternoon by now and he knows he can’t waste anymore time. He ducks out of the closet and runs for the closest patch of trees as quickly as he can. As soon as he’s in the cover of the woods he starts thinking of the shit show he’s gonna walk into. Tess is gonna give him the third degree. He left no note, no indication of where he would be. What excuse is he even gonna give? He played sick so convincingly and now what is he gonna do? What can he tell her that will be believable? 

His mind is racing with a hundred different thoughts and he’s trying to ignore the sting of the cold air in his lungs and the burning of his thighs as he presses forward up another hill. He’s sure that’s why he misses the trap. Because he knows where they all are, he helped set almost every single one. He has a map in his office with all of them marked off, directs the patrols to check and maintain them. He knows better. But he’s distracted. You’ve distracted him. This is all your fault. That’s all he can think as he feels the trap clamping over his ankle and the biting pain shooting up his leg. This is all your fuckin’ fault.

Joel loses his balance quickly as the counterweight trips and yanks his leg out from under him. He sees the whole world flip and feels the fire of tearing flesh licking up his leg. He comes to rest with his shoulders on the ground, his head brushing against the fallen leaves, but the lower half of his body lifted up in the air, strung up in the tree by his ankle. Shit, this is a good trap, he was so proud when he thought of it and now he can confirm that it’s quite debilitating and extremely painful. 

—

The sun has started setting when Joel hears a single step behind him and he whips his head around, facing a lone figure, light hair braided over her shoulder, pack on her back stuffed full. Sasha.

“Hey honey… I didn’t hear ya coming,” he groans, shifting uncomfortably.

“Yeah, Joel,” she looks him over quickly, “That’s kinda the point.”

She opens her mouth to ask a question – probably something akin to what the fuck are you doing out here – but then she looks southward, towards the still-visible fields of the dairy farm, and back at him. She closes her mouth, deciding not to ask something she already knows the answer to. Instead she looks him up and down, taking in the scene in the fading light.

“You uhh… you want me to get you down from there?”

“Well what’s the alternative, honey?” He motions around. “You gonna leave me here?”

“I could…” her face remains impassive, considering her options, “But Tess would probably miss you.”

Joel lets out a huff and gives her a partial smile, it’s as much as he can manage having been stuck like this for far too long. Sasha throws her pack down and fishes some bolt cutters out of the back, reaching them above Joel’s ankle and cutting a chain link rather easily. Joel's body unceremoniously slams down to the forest floor, knocking the wind out of his lungs.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” she mutters, kneeling down to check him over. “What’d you think was gonna happen when I cut it?”

“I dunno honey but I’m not a fuckin’ gymnast. I’ve been hangin’ upside-down for hours, so I’m kinda at the whim of gravity right now.

“Well twinkle toes, good thing you’re not training for the olympics, because your leg looks absolutely fucked. We need to get you to the clinic ASAP.”

Yeah yeah yeah Joel grumbles, grunting and groaning as Sasha helps him to his feet, leaning into his side so she can support his weight on his bad side.

“Is your horse nearby?”

“Didn’t bring a horse,” he sighs.

“Joel, we’re still over a mile away from home and your leg–”

“Well we better get going then, huh?”

“But, Joel–”

“Time’s a wastin’ honey, let’s go.”

—

By the time the doctor finishes wrapping Joel’s ankle, he can already see the blood seeping through the bottom layers of the bandages. She’s given him some expired meds for the pain that are managing to take the edge off, but he’s still extremely uncomfortable. He’s not gonna tell her that though.

“I’m gonna need to see you tomorrow to clean and redress this wound.”

“I can come by after–”

“No,” she interrupts. “No, Joel, I’ll make a house call, you shouldn’t be walking on this at all. This needs to be elevated so the swelling can go down.” She wraps the second layer tighter and Joel bites back a noise. She notices. “That’s why it’s leaking like this, you didn’t elevate it,” she scolds, and then murmurs under her breath, “And you walked a mile on it.”

“Well I knew you made house calls but I didn’t think you’d make middle-of-the-forest calls.”

She makes a noise that sounds like hmmm, and grabs another roll of gauze to keep wrapping around. He’s not sure if she bought his story, that he and Sasha were scavenging together and he wasn’t looking where he was going, but she removed the trap from his ankle and gave him a tetanus shot and some antibiotics. He didn’t even realize she had all of that here but she opened a locked cabinet and there was a secret stash of medicines, just waiting for him.

Since he was hanging upside-down he didn’t lose much blood and the doctor told him she doubts there’s a broken bone, given that the trap clamped down above the ankle bones and more into the meat of his leg. She is worried about infection, of course, and said that the way it pulled on his leg could take a while for the muscles to heal. How long did Sasha leave you hanging there she kept asking and he kept explaining that they’d split up to cover more ground, and she’d found him when he missed their meet-up time.

“I think that’s enough, Doc, quit fussin’ over me,” he tells her as he shifts on the bed to get up. “Get Sasha for me and I’ll head home, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it elevated.”

“Sasha left after she dropped you off Joel,” she leans back and points to the doorway, where one of the clinic staff has rolled in a rusted wheelchair. “We’re gonna take you.”

“I’m not getting in that thing.”

“Oh cut it out, you already got your tetanus shot.”

—

He gets out of the chair and stumbles up the front steps, forbidding them from helping him through the door and promising to elevate his leg and keep it that way, trying to keep his voice in a whisper and not disturb the house. He hops inside and his fears are immediately realized when he sees Tess waiting for him at the dining room table. Their eyes meet and they stare at each other in silence for a long while before she rises out of her chair and points to an empty one.

“I’ll get you some ice,” she says, walking into the kitchen.

Joel sits in the chair and Tess comes back in, motioning for him to put his leg up on the bench next to him, setting a cloth ice pack gently on his injured leg. She slowly sits down and resumes looking at him. A long silence passes between them.

“You gonna make me ask?”

“Ask what?” he says casually, then she pins him with a look and he drops all pretense, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure Sasha already told you.”

“She didn’t tell me why.”

“Why? You already know that too.”

“I know you were out there at the farm, Joel, sneakin’ around, messin’ with her stuff, fuckin’ with her head, I don’t know what all you get up to. But why, Joel? Why?”

“What do you care, anyway?”

“Why can’t you leave her alone?” she hisses

“Why is that any of your fuckin’ business?”

Tess slams her hand down on the table and hisses, “You made it my business when you brought her into my house.”

“Your house, is it?”

“You’re goddamn right it’s my house, and I take care of everyone in it. I sent her to the farm to get some relief from you and your behavior, and you can’t show one ounce of self control? Who the fuck are you?”

“I don’t think–”

“No, you’re not thinkin’, that’s the problem,” she interrupts. He’s stunned into silence. “I’ve taken a lotta shit in my life, Joel, and I’ll keep taking it if it’s for the greater good. I’ve followed you around for years and I’m loyal, but I ain’t stupid. I see you slipping. Everyone does. Everything I’ve done for you, everything I’ve sacrificed for you… you gotta play your role.”

“I’m tired of it,” he whispers.

“You’re not tired of everything it gets you.”

He grumbles at that and mutters something like it doesn’t get me what I really want, and she knows he means you. She knows he still wants you, even when he pretends like he doesn’t. She sees the way he purposely avoids you and looks the other way when you come near. It’s all bullshit bravado, and she fuckin’ knows it. She knows he’s sad, lonely, heartbroken without you. But she needs him to either put up or shut up. Admit it or move on. She can’t have him stuck in this loop of destruction.

“Leave her be, Joel. It’s done with her, it’s over.”

—

Two weeks go by in a blur, Joel doesn’t sneak away to the farm, he avoids Amber at the Thursday meetings, he steers clear of you at the Sunday service. He goes where Tess tells him to go, meets with who she tells him to meet with. His leg heals well and he’s back on his feet much sooner than the doctor expected him to be. He spends his days working with the gardeners in town to get ready for spring planting, and the evenings working in his office to schedule patrols and plan maintenance for sections of the perimeter fencing. 

He keeps his head down and keeps his mind occupied. He starts to feel better, and then he’ll lie in bed at night and he’ll hear the door to the tiny room across the hall close and remember you’re not there. It cuts like a knife in his hollow chest, the slow thumping of his heart echoing in its empty chamber. He feels bad for going the whole day without missing you and his stomach gets tied up in knots over everything that happened. 

He tries so hard not to think of you, to keep his mind busy with anything else… until he can’t. Until everyone stands up as he introduces Bianca’s baby to the community and then everyone sits back down and there you are. You’re standing in the middle of a pew halfway back, staring daggers through him. Looking at him like he just slapped you in the face. He can’t help but look at you – for the first time in over two months – and watch you come undone.

He sees you run out of the sanctuary and only Tess’ iron grip clawing at his elbow keeps him from running after you. After the service he tells her he’ll meet them in the hall for lunch and she reluctantly leaves him, mouthing behave yourself as she goes.

And then you’re in front of him again, the both of you looking into each other’s eyes. There’s so much fire in yours, he hasn’t seen you look like this since the first day he saw them, backed into a corner of the clinic like a trapped animal, teeth bared and ready to pounce. You start snapping at him, biting him with your words, and he can’t fucking help himself. He bites at you right back. Every sharp barb of your tongue, every click of your fangs, he’s spurred on to hiss and claw in response. You call him a liar and then tell him you don’t care when it couldn't be more obvious that you do. 

Why won’t you just admit that you care? Why won’t you just admit that you miss him? Why are you so afraid of the truth?

You brush by him, purposely knocking his arm with your shoulder as you exit and when he turns to follow you he sees Tess in the doorway. She walks up to him and he doesn’t even realize he’s crying until her arms close around him and he’s sobbing into her shoulder.

“She hates me,” he heaves.

“She doesn’t hate you, Joel,” she hushes.

“She does. She thinks that was my baby.”

“Did you tell her it wasn’t?”

“No,” he sniffles.

“Why the fuck not?”

“Cause I’m incapable of doing the right thing. I just keep fucking up,” he sobs. “I keep doing the wrong thing every fucking time. I grab her, I hurt her, I say the wrong thing, I fuck it all up.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know,” he wails.

“I do, I know why.”

“Why then?” Joel sniffles.

“It’s easier for you to push her away than it is to let her in.” 

—

Joel is sitting in silence at the dinner table later that night, mindlessly picking at his plate, lost in his thoughts. The meal has long-since finished and the women are clearing the table, moving in and out of the kitchen and talking with each other. Beth is excitedly telling them about a barn cat who had kittens last year and everyone is gushing over the talk of adorable kittens. 

Joel remembers Sarah finding two abandoned kittens after a soccer game one cloudy May afternoon, two flea-infested little rats hiding behind the practice field’s bathrooms. She’d carried them in her shirt back to him, all three of them crying, begging him to let her keep them. He said no a hundred times but still wound up driving all of them all the way across town to the only vet’s office open on a Saturday. Hundreds of dollars later they were stuffed full of medicine and food and were sleeping curled up in the crook of Sarah’s neck. 

She told him she understood when he said they couldn’t keep them forever – allergies, he’d explained – but that didn’t stop big, fat tears from rolling down her face when she placed them into the arms of their new owners.

“You did such a good job taking care of them,” he’d told her, wiping away her tears. “You should be so proud. Look how big they got! You did that! You gave them a shot at a great life.”

“You did it too, dad,” she’d said, hugging him, telling him he also did a good job.

He didn’t do shit, he just couldn’t say no to her. And she thought he hung the moon. She thought he was some kind of a saint. Joel Miller, patron saint of disgusting, sickly little kittens. The man she thought he was… he could never be that man. Not then. Not now. Not after everything he’s done.

And then he realizes he’s sobbing again, at the dinner table, and everyone is staring at him. 

“Y– You okay, Joel?” Beth asks.

“Yeah,” he sniffles. “I was just… thinkin’ about Sarah.”

“Who’s Sarah?” Kerri says.

“Can everyone give us a minute?” Tess says.

The room quickly clears and Joel is still sputtering and sniffling at the head of the table. Tess sits down next to him and he slides off his chair, kneeling on the floor and burying his head in her lap, tears rolling down his face and soaking her jeans. He’s muttering I can’t lose her too and sobbing and Tess thinks this might be it, he might finally be ready to face it.

“What’s wrong, Joel?” Tess asks gently.

“She left me, I fucked up and she left, I don’t deserve her, she hates me, I’m a monster and she hates me and I don’t do anything right and I just fail over and over and she can’t stand me and all I do is–” his cries, devolve into a blubbering mess.

—

It’s just before midnight and the house is dark and quiet. Only a lamp in the living room casts a glow on them – Tess and Joel on the couch – where they’ve been sitting and talking for hours. He’s finally calmed down, having talked through months-worth, if not years-worth, of feelings with her. Things they’ve already talked about, things she’s suspected but never had confirmed, and secrets they’ve kept even from each other. It felt cathartic, like a weight lifted from the both of them, and they sit in companionable silence before they head up to bed.

A loud, frantic knocking at the front door makes both of them jump. Tess goes to answer it and all Joel hears is a tandem of words, spilling out like a waterfall so quickly he can only catch some of them. Not in bed… looked everywhere… can’t find... He gets up from his seat and heads to the door, freezing when he sees Danny and Diego’s harrowed faces standing on his darkened porch.

“W– what’s goin’ on?” Joel asks, looking between the two men and Tess.

Tess grabs his arm, bracing him.

“She left.”

🖤

NEXT

As always, muchas gracias to my amazing editor, @papipascalispunk for sticking with me through my highs and my lows, my slumps, and my manic incessant babbling about CJ.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.

First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.

Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.

And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?

And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.

a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.

Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.

[sp1d3rzz]

Warning!! : PiV unprotected, electrocution kink?? (little zaps), dirty talk, and virgin!reader. Lemme know if i missed anything.

Summary : Its your birthday, and you stupidly confess to being a virgin. But don't worry, he can help with that <33

A/N : Happy birthday, @luvv4choso !! Enjoy (๑>◡<๑)

Wait—" Kaminari is stunned. "You're a virgin?"

You confessed this without thinking about it, which was highly stupid. He looks at you like you're a ghost. "Shut up! I shouldn't have even told you.."

He finds this funny, though he holds back his laughter to avoid making you feel even worse. "I mean, it's.. normal, right?" He can't even be sure.

You sit ashamed on your bed, thumb rubbing your arm in embarrassment. If you're honest, sex never occurred to you. Your life at school, as a hero, and other things kept you busy.

Kaminara sits next to, staring awkwardly at the ceiling. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad." His apology sounds genuine, and it makes you feel a little better, but not fully.

"Maybe.. I could help you?"

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

"Shit—" His hand reached down to eagerly rub your clit. "She needed this, huh?" A cocky smirk spreads from ear to ear.

He has you scrambled in front of him, back against the soft sheets of your once put together bed. Your pillows are long gone onto the floor, and your blankets are barely on aswell.

One of his hand is toying with your clit, while one is holding the side of face. "You look so pretty like this– fuck—can't ever get enough of you.." His eyes are focused onto yours, hair falling in front of his face to give you a beautiful sight.

His cock is sliding in and out of you with no patience. Angrily and greedy. Each and every thrust hits your g-spot, giving you no time to think. Nevertheless even time to move. His hips are slapping against your pelvic bone rapidly, and you're sure he's going to break you.

"Kam— ah!!" The tip of his cock meets with your spongey wall and you arch your back, deafened with the sound of pleasure.

Now he's got you.

You swear he's doing it on purpose now, destroying your guts so you know how good sex feels like. What you've been missing out on the whole entire time.

The sweet sounds of slick and skin connecting fill the room up, and you know it'll stay there for awhile. "How's my birthday girl? You alright, gorgeous?" He's panting now, and you can tell he's losing energy. "Good– mm, fuck right there!"

Clearly you encourage him because he suddenly uses a hand to pull your leg over his shoulder. And before you can even possibly consider what he's about to do, he bites down onto your calve.

"Oh!–"

His thrusts get deeper, hitting all over your walls that you have no time to catch your breath, only take what he gives you. "Feels so good, ngh- shit.."

He's about to finish.

A thumb reaches down to massages your clit, urging you cum before him. He wants to make this experience life changing and unforgettable.

His hips smack harshly into your, and he uses a small electrical charge to stimulate you're clit. "Feel that, pretty girl??"

A scream escapes your lips, making him grin. Your whole body is a trembling mess under him. Sticky, lewd, and perfect.

He slams one more time into you, before his cock twitches and he cums inside your warm walls. He fills you up to the brim, making sure you're stuffed with his seed.

The both of you rest your minds for a moment, catching your breath. You have no idea what he just did, but whatever it was has you hooked.

His eyes fall down to yours once he regains self control. "You alright?" You can only nod your head as your body gains its consciousness.

A small chuckle falls from his mouth and he leans down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead. "Happy birthday."

#destinedtowrite #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #denki kaminari #denki x reader #mha kaminari #kaminari x reader #bnha kaminari #kaminari x y/n #kaminari smut #kaminari x you #mha denki #bnha denki #denki smut #denki x y/n #mha smut #bnha smut

[beemochi-art]

THE SEEKERS

STARSCREAM

Air commander! Leader of the seeker! And second in command of the decepticons! By far he is the most talented flyer of all the cons. All these decorations sure bumps up his ego, which cause him to go barking up the wrong tree. He’s got a scar on his face to remind him of each failed attempt at dominance.

Decorate that.

In the beginning he knew Megatron and they looked out for each other. Megatron trusted him and viewed him as a friend. But when Starscream had his lil seeklet something clicked in his brain. Starscream began scheming for more power. He started holding his family closest to him and pushing away the rest. He wanted the best for them and was tired of seeing them pushed into battle like common soldiers, they are not common to him. He couldn’t imagine Slipstream being hurt.

One day on the battlefield, Megatron was trapped in a crashing ship. Megatron desperately called out for his friend. Starscream looked him in the eyes and left him. As second in command he would be air to the the throne, he enjoyed it for a while thinking Megatron was dead and his family being the ones to boss everyone around. Knowing that his bitlit wouldn’t have to face battle like a commoner but instead like a commander.

Until of course Megatron came back. Starscream was challenged. He fought and lost badly. Megatron was highly emotional and almost killed him. Slipstream was deeply traumatized by seeing this. She’s scared of him.

Starscream is still second in command. It’s hard to tell what Megatron is thinking.

NOVASTORM

I wanted to make her a girl cause why not. She’s an ass, but what seekers isn’t??

She’s gorgeous and she knows it. She’s constantly flashing her stuff. (Honestly a big ego and being a narcissist is standard seeker behavior.) she has a crush on Thundercracker and has been trying to court him for years. (To her courting is being annoying and mean and accusing him of being a perv.)

She’s constantly picking fights with the rest of the seekers. But she’s nice to Slipstream. (She’s like the the sassy auntie.)

THUNDERCRACKER

He stoic and doesn’t talk to much, he the strongest out of the seeker. He’s also the biggest. He pretty much lets the rest of the seekers walk all over him. However he’ll sometimes put his foot down with Starscream and Skywarp (mostly skywarp.) he reminds them that he could crush their heads with his bare hands.

However he loves the two girls. He recognizes Novastorm is flirting with him. He mostly is just dead pan only because she makes him nervous. She gets away with everything.

Slipstream he sometimes pretends she’s his own. He gets her gifts and when she was very little he actually broke his silent streak and begged starscream to hold her. Slipstream could yell at him to move and he’ll do it fast. He lets her get away with too much.

SLIPSTREAM

The youngest, the smallest, and has the most to prove. She exudes teenage angst. Most soldiers are surprised she screams at the second command the way she does.

She is Starscream’s daughter. Even tho she can be a mean, hurtful little shit, she loves her dad. She hates seeing him hurt. Tho she’s not super affectionate (Starscream isn’t either.) he knows she loves him. And the rest of the seekers (not skywarp). They are her family. The rest of the seekers feel the same way (still not skywarp.) they’ve known her since she was small and looked after her when Starscream couldn’t.

SKYWARP

The seekers resident psycho. Skywarp has a very special power that makes him crazy! I’m sure we all know what it is. He doesn’t care about anyone. Surprisingly a goof tho, doesn’t help his scary appearance.

He has an artifact in his helm that lets him warp. He’s a killer and likes to hunt. He intentionally antagonizes his fellow soldiers. And he will make anyone suffer when they are weakest. He see Slipstream as the weakest.

#transformers #my art #starscream #tf starscream #transformers au #nova storm #tf nova storm #tf slipstream #slipstream #tf skywarp #skywarp #thundercracker #tf thundercracker #seekers #tf seekers

[10underoot2]

I thought I would have so much to say about the car accident scene. And while I could go on for a while on why it's everything I've ever wanted from a scene of this nature and why it's a beautifully acted cinematic piece, I do think the beauty of the scene lies so much in silence. Their expressions are do a fantastic job to express their emotional state so I'm just gonna call attention to a few things I won't get over anytime soon.

Imagine being Haein and seeing your husband wrecking a car window in hysteria. Imagine seeing disbelief on his face when he sees you and walks towards you. Imagine watching him unable to breathe properly (sound on and high for this scene). Imagine seeing life flood into him as soon as you touch him.

Jiwon plays such an important part here. Because Haein has NEVER seen Hyunwoo like this. He's a pretty calm nice, non-violent guy. She knows him to like mostly everyone and he rarely gets angry - he's pretty composed. But then what is this look of complete shattered pain on his face? With a mix of disbelief, bearing the heaviest heart on the planet? He's unrecognisable to her. She can't make sense of any of his actions. She's in utter shock hearing how hardly any air is making it's way into his lungs.

In his eyes is a look of crazed wilderness just tamed. He's out of his sense. Completely lost in the events that have just passed. Not believing that he can breathe. That it's okay. All is well in the world for now. She's unscathed.

'What's going on? Calm down.'

The way she asks him to calm down - touching his face - cause she just doesn't know what in the world could send him in such a frenzy to forget himself. Her asking him to calm down here is everything to me. She's really just saying I'm here okay. Calm down. Calm down, you can breathe. Tell me what happened and I can fix it.

'Even still, Are you crazy? How could you break the window with your bare hands? Look at this!'

I know it probably didn't register to him at that point. But he's hearing her being worried for him again when he thought her lost forever. Wouldn't that sound like music to his ears.

And her...god she's so worried for him. She's never seen him like this. She doesn't know what happened to make him like this. One she sees his absolutely broken bloody hand. Two she's seeing her husband absolutely crushed. She's so confused.

That is until his words hit her like a truck. I think she had an idea that he did it to save her but she didn't know he did it because he thought her dead. And that makes all the difference for her.

Also I thought it was very interesting to keep showing his injured hand clenching. I think it was a way to show how the physical pain still didn't hold a candle to his emotional turmoil. He CLENCHES that broken hand multiple times. I can't even begin to think when he actively registered the pain.

The need for constant touch to reaffirm that she indeed is there. The sitting down. The head on her hand. The heavy breathing. *Chef's kiss*

I love women comforting the man they love when he's broken. Gah! That hand on his face and hug. Her embracing him. Letting him cry all he wants. Giving him the reaffirmation he needs by placing her self as close to him as possible. Trying to tame and override his sense. The hand on the nape of his neck. The hand caressing his hair lovingly. And good god, the RINGS.

Also notice his breathing on her shoulder. He's trying to calm himself. Telling himself she's here. Hearing her say it's alright. Everything will be alright.

I'm sure they stay like this until the ambulance comes and asks them if they're hurt. Only then Haein must've gently tore him apart from her (hand on his face again ofcourse) and convinced/guided him to finally get treatment. I can just Imagine Hyunwoo completely dishevelled going, 'Huh *sniffs*......oh.......Right, my hand' and that's when the pain hits him.

Special mention to the hospital conversation when Haein asks him 'Will you sob like this if I die?' and he says truthfully, bashfully, embarrassed but without missing a beat 'Ofcourse.' He's hiding behind nothing. He truly meant to give up on himself after her.

For me this is also the night Haein starts to write her diary. Hyunwoo must've been sound asleep, amped up on painkillers and she must've had so much time to sit and admire him and write.

Gif credits: @wolha and @seawherethesunsets

#he cries like such a child and its heart aching #I love/hate how I didn't think I'd write much but thsi post is still so long #this scene satisfies the angsty writer in me #it's beautifully done #such gems acting! #there are no gifs of Haein fussing over him #which is sad #queen of tears #baek hyun woo #hong hae in #kim soo hyun #kim ji won #baekhong

[hollytoshaw]

noisy neighbour part two | harry lewis

✩ ✩ ✩

summary: in which y/n owns a coffee shop and harry is her noisy neighbour

word count : 5.7k

part one here

a/n: this is part two of my noisy neighbour series!!! read part one before this <3 there will be more parts to this as its a proper slow burnerrr. sorry for the slow updates i haven't forgotten about this series lol xxx

masterlist <3333

-

✩ ✩ ✩

Y/N had come to the conclusion that life was much better when she didn’t let silly lies get in her way. It had been a week since she had come clean to her noisy neighbour, or Harry, as she now knew him, and life couldn’t get any better. 

After the pair had laughed about her moment of foolishness and how they were both a little too loud for their own good, they were able to move past it all and properly get to know the person they were living next door to. 

Y/N found out more about Harry’s whole ‘Youtuber’ lifestyle. He was part of a group of seven boys that made videos that came out every Sunday, but he also had other channels in which he’d play computer games and do funny reaction videos—the source of all that playful shouting she had heard through the walls. He told her that he’d gotten bored of his old apartment and wanted a change of scenery, so he chose the small-scale but nonetheless nice flat next door to hers. He lived alone and was 27; his favourite colour was blue, and his favourite cake was chocolate. He liked coffee,cycling, surfing, and the occasional beer, and he loved travelling anywhere in the world, near or far; he just loved exploring places. He had two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, and was from a little channel island named Guernsey. Y/N had never been.

She told him all the little details she could think of about herself in return. She was always sort of bad at introductions, cringing when they used to say ‘’Tell us three facts about you’’ in school, never knowing what to say. But she managed nonetheless. She told him all about her dream of having a cafe of her own and how she came to do so. She loved old music, mainly Abba, to which he laughed and told her he knew already, making a playful jab at the singing he had heard from next door. She too lived alone but was 26; her favourite colour was green, and her favourite cake was lemon. She also liked coffee, not so much cycling or surfing, and opted for cider whenever she went to the pub. While she hadn’t been travelling much herself due to paying off her university debts and then starting up her coffee shop, she still shared the desire to travel anywhere in the world—far away from London. 

It was such a breath of fresh air for Y/N. Owning a cafe all on her own meant early mornings and late nights, and her weekends were either spent visiting her parents or nestled away in her flat watching episodes of Vanderpump Rules or trying new recipes for baked goods that she was thinking about selling in the cafe. Because of this, she had found it hard to find time to make friends, and while she had her fair share, she barely saw them; they either had big city jobs or were living outside of London and starting a family. It just felt nice for Y/N to just sit and chat with someone a similar age to her and talk about nonsense for a while. 

While the conversation the pair shared was cut short by Harry needing to get to work and record a podcast, they shared numbers (only in case one of them got a parcel for the other, of course), and Harry said he’d pop back in soon to finish where they left off. 

So that was it. It had been a week, and she hadn’t seen him since, but that was all she could think about. It wasn’t even like Y/N had a crush, or so she convinced herself, but she longed to talk to him again; it just felt nice. While the occasional old lady that came into the cafe was great to chat with, asking away about how her day was going or what their plans were for the day, she still preferred the little chat she had with Harry; it just felt different, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. 

But then she got all in her own head. Maybe he didn’t come back in because he realised she was a bit weird, having lied about living next door and that he was only being friendly and entertaining the conversation, but in reality, he didn’t want to be talking to her at all. Y/N knew she was probably getting a bit ahead of herself, but she couldn’t help but think the worst. She had always been a bit of a pessimist. 

It was now Monday again, and the cafe had just begun to die down after the lunch rush. After cleaning tables and putting cups and saucers back in place, Y/N finally felt like she had it all under control. There was no one in the shop, and looking at the time, the clock read 1:00 p.m., a perfect chance for Y/N to have her lunch break. She had scoffed a croissant earlier that morning and topped herself up with flat whites throughout the day, but now she was starving. She walked over to the door, flipping the ‘open’ sign to ‘close’ and walked back behind the counter to prepare herself something nice to eat. 

She wasn’t long into making a ham and cheese toastie when she heard three loud knocks on the glass door. Usually she’d shout ‘’We’re closed’’ and continue what she was doing, but another three knocks followed, and she thought she’d just let them in and eat her sandwich another time. 

As she turned around, she saw a hooded figure standing outside the door—it was lashing rain in London today (shocker) —but she could barely make their face out through the raindrops on the door. Nearing closer, she realised it was Harry. After a week, he’d returned. Maybe her pessimism wasn’t always right.  

Letting him in, she moved back as he took his coat off, the black puffer soaked from the awful weather. 

''Hello, you,’’ he smiled, lifting the hood of his jumper from his head. ‘’Didn’t realise you closed this early.’’

‘’Hiya,’’ she smiled back. ‘’Just closed for lunch, that’s all.’’

Furrowing his brows, he replied, ''U-Oh, right, I can come back later if you’re busy.’’

She laughed, taking his coat from him to hang it up on the coat stand next to the door. ‘’Don’t be silly. I’m only having a toastie, nothing special.’’

‘’Lovely stuff,’’ he said, clapping his hands together and following her towards the counter.

‘’How’ve you been?’’ she asked. ‘’Horrible weather today, isn’t it?’’ Classic brit filling empty silence with talks of the weather.

‘’I know, proper pain in the arse,’’ he laughed. ‘’Been good, though. Just back from a holiday with the boys, but so typical, I’ve come back to the shittest weather possible.’’

''Ooh, lucky you,’’ Y/N smiled as she resumed the making of her lunch. ‘’Go anywhere nice?’’

‘’Went to the Maldives for two days for a video,’’ he said nonchalantly, ‘’was a good laugh though.’’

‘’Wow, that must've been unreal.’’ she gasped, placing her sandwich on a small green plate before looking back at him. ‘’Can I get you anything to eat? I feel like a knob if I’m sat scoffing my face and I’ve not made you anything.’’

Harry smiled, watching as the girl moved her plaited hair so that it was out of her face. He thought she was quite pretty with her hair tied back, freckled cheeks, and a peach-coloured blusher on her face. She was wearing her same old green apron, but instead of the jumper she had on the last time he saw her, she had a striped long-sleeve top paired with black jeans. Yeah, she was really quite pretty, he thought. 

‘’No, I’m fine, thanks. I got a meal deal in the airport earlier,’’ he paused. ‘’And I’m trying to keep off the cakes, but they do look bloody brilliant today.’’

Y/N laughed, ''Well, you’re in the wrong place if you’re trying to keep off the sweet stuff. I got cakes coming out of my ears in this place.’’

The conversation felt easy for Y/N. It was almost weird to think about their first few conversations, stiff and awkward, thinking the other was a bit rude and not really interested in making small talk. But now, it felt like they could talk for ages; the initial uneasiness was now a distant memory. 

‘’So what brings you here?’’ she started. ‘’Surprised you’re not straight to bed after that long flight.’’

They sat down at a little table in front of the counter, Y/N enjoying her lunch and Harry watching, fumbling with his fingers. 

''Oh, trust me, I’m knackered.’’ he laughed. ‘’But I thought I’d pop in. Remember, I said I would last time, finish where we left off, and all.’’

Course Y/N was remembered. It had been all she thought about for the last seven days. 

‘’Oh right, yeah’’ she said between mouthfuls of her sandwich. ‘’Well,tell me all about this Maldives trip then.’’

✩ ✩ ✩

A few days had passed since Y/N and Harry’s last encounter. And that was all she could think about.

After leaving her cafe to go back to his flat, the pair shared a few jokey text messages: Harry sending her random pictures he’d taken on his holiday and Y/N sharing snaps of new baked goods that she’d made, with him responding with a classic ‘Save me one.’ It was nothing serious, but it was nice to have playful conversations away from her busy working day and Harry’s video shoots. 

Despite only a small proximity separating the pair, Y/N longed for the next time she might bump into him, almost hoping that a parcel would get delivered to the wrong address to give her some reason to knock on his door or that he’d finally succumb to his sweet tooth and trod down the stairs to try whatever fresh baked treats she had to offer. 

It made her laugh that only a few weeks ago she’d dreaded the thought of seeing him and hated the thought of having to make small talk with him, but now it was all she’d thought of. And don’t get her wrong, she was no romanticist or anything of that sort but when she found something she liked or in this case, a person she liked talking to, it was hard for her to take her mind away from them. 

Another day had come to an end for Y/N. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air as she wiped down the last table in her cosy little shop. It had been a long day for her, filled with the hustle and bustle of customers coming in and out. She felt swept off her feet trying to make sure everything ran smoothly and made a mental note that maybe it was time to hire some help.

Now, as the clock struck closing time, Y/N couldn’t wait to retreat to the comfort of her upstairs flat. Locking up the cafe, she made her way up the narrow staircase and into her home. The familiar creak of the stairs under her feet echoed in the empty hallway—a comforting sound that signalled the end of another day’s work. 

As she reached the door, she let out a contented sigh—peace at last. Turning the key in the lock, she pushed open the door and stepped into her sanctuary.

The soft glow of string lights greeted her, casting a warm and inviting atmosphere through the room. She’d forgotten to turn them off the night before and was surprised the batteries had lasted the day. Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the hardwood floor to her living area, where a plush green sofa beckoned her to sink into its comforting embrace.

Her days always went the same after work. She’d come upstairs, sit down on the sofa, and stick some random television show on for some background noise, needing to just sit for a moment after being on her feet all day. The stress of the day always melted away as she allowed herself to just be in the moment, relishing the peace and quiet of her own space. 

Next to the sofa, a stack of books awaited her attention. She had been reading some Dolly Alderton novel that a friend had recommended, and so far she was loving it. There was nothing quite like getting lost in the pages of a good book; all she needed now was a nice cup of tea, and she’d be in heaven. 

It’d felt like hours had passed as Y/N finally got to the end of another chapter. The gentle hum of the TV in the background continued as Y/N settled down the book and turned her attention to her phone, wondering if she had any new messages from a certain someone. And lo and behold, she did. 

Clicking the message open, she saw a picture that Harry had taken from what she assumed to be his living room. Her view was similar, just at a different angle—the Shoreditch’s streets looking equally as ‘London’-esque from both their windows. He had added a little message to the bottom of it: ‘This weather is mental. Think it calls for tea and some cake.’ Y/N hadn’t seen the message with her phone on ‘Do not disturb’ and her eyes well focused on the piece of fiction she was reading, and he had sent it over twenty minutes ago, but she assumed he was still next door, not wanting to dare step out in the treacherous rain. 

She wondered if he was hinting at her to send him a text and offer some cakes from downstairs. Or maybe even invite him over to try the pastries she’d sent him a picture of only a few days ago. Of course, Y/N didn’t really know if he was hinting at anything, but she really hoped he was. The time on her phone showed it was just past 7:00 p.m., and having eaten a small lunch earlier in the day, she too was in the mood for some cake and tea, not really bothered by the thought of cooking dinner and having to wash up loads of pots and pans in the kitchen.

She lifted herself up from the comfy sofa and into her kitchen space, opening the fridge to see if she had any nice delights to cure her craving. There sat a small blue tupperware, inside two vanilla cupcakes, left over from the day, perfect. Two. Perfect. 

Whether he had been hinting or not, Y/N took the tupperware in hand and stuffed her feet into her fluffy slippers. Unlocking her door and making her way down the stairs towards his door, she felt giddy. She thought it was a nice gesture to turn up with a little treat that he had longed for, and she hoped maybe the two could share a nice chat over a cup of tea as they looked out on the London rain. It’d be nice.

As she got to the door, she lifted her hand up, ready to press the buzzer to his blue door, but as she did, she heard the faint strains of music drifting through the air, accompanied by a girl’s laughter. Her hand froze, and a wave of disappointment washed over her. Doubt crept into Y/N’s mind, and she couldn’t bring herself to interrupt whatever moment Harry was sharing with another.

With a heavy sigh, Y/N turned on her heel and retreated back up the stairs to her flat. She knew she was being silly, but she felt a sting in her heart, and she couldn’t shake the image of Harry’s front door from her mind. 

Back in her kitchen. Y/N set the cupcakes on the counter; her appetite for something sweet was now long gone. She wondered if she had misinterpreted Harry’s kindness and their conversations as something more. Sure, the two had shared a few playful texts, updates throughout the day, and random pictures, but that was the extent of it so far. Y/N felt like an idiot. 

She never did respond to Harry’s text that night.

✩ ✩ ✩

Another few days passed, and Y/N had finally gotten over her little strop. Well…sort of. She didn’t have much to go on other than the fact that she’d heard a woman’s voice and lots of laughter, which she knew didn’t necessarily mean Harry had a girlfriend, but she'd rather nip her feelings in the bud than wonder about the what-ifs that could of been had he opened the door. Plus, Y/N felt a bit silly. He’d never given an indication that their chats were anything more than friendly, and the texts they shared weren’t suggestive in any way—I mean, you could probably send your mother the same things. So she knew it was better to cut her little strop short before she got herself all tangled up in her feelings.

She’d had another long week in the cafe, busy with big orders and endless amounts of coffee, and she knew it was definitely time she put out an advertisement for a job vacancy. But that was a job for another day as she was currently getting ready to go out with a few friends in a pub just near Old Street. It had been a while since she’d found the time to meet up with people (with their big city jobs and her never ending hustle in the cafe) and considering she’d given Harry radio silence for the past few days, this was the most socialising she’d done outside of the occasional old lady in the cafe. So, Y/N was buzzing. She reached for her favourite pair of Adidas Sambas, their sleek black design accentuating her style. The leather was very worn despite carrying many stories of past adventures. Y/N made a mental note that she’d get a new pair out of her next paycheck. Her outfit was bold yet chic, a lot different from her usual jeans, t-shirt, and green apron combo. A leopard print midi skirt is paired with a black fitted crop top and a leather jacket over her shoulders to give the outfit unmistakable flair. She always enjoyed dressing up, even if it was just for a quick pint—it just gave her something to do and was a nice change from her usual get-up. 

With a flick of her wrist, she grabbed her essentials—a phone, cardholder, and keys—and headed out the door. It wasn’t raining in London for once, with spring slowly creeping in, so Y/N didn’t bother with an umbrella, deciding her jacket was enough protection from whatever the weather had in mind. It felt nice as she walked along the busy Shoreditch streets with the city lights beckoning, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing—it made her heart squeeze, and she felt like the night was promising her excitement and all sorts of possibilities.

/

The pub night was everything Y/N had hoped it would be. It had been a welcome contrast of warmth and laughter, and seeing her friends, who usually worked nine to five, was a breath of fresh air. With flushed cheeks from all the lively conversations and talks of fond memories, not to mention the five pints of fruity cider she had drank, Y/N left the pub with the cheesiest grin on her face. A few kisses to the cheek and warm hugs later, Y/N waved goodbye to her group of mates and headed back towards the Old Street roundabout. 

The city seemed quieter now; most of its energy was subdued despite it only being 10:00 p.m. Walking around familiar streets, she felt a sense of comfort in solitude but wished she hadn’t forgotten her airpods because there’d be nothing better than a peaceful stroll accompanied by her favourite indie music playlist in the back. 

The pub was only about a ten-minute walk from her flat, so it didn’t take too long, and Y/N felt herself subconsciously speed walking as the cold London air got to her, now regretting her choice of jacket. As she neared closer to her doorstep, she could see a hooded figure placed on it, a backpack in front of them, and a phone in their hand as they scrolled aimlessly. Her eyes felt a bit hazy from the cider, and she approached apprehensively, her mind wandering to the possibilities of it being a crazy ex-boyfriend or a drunken friend hoping to rest their heads for the night. But as she moved closer, her anxiousness eased. It was only her neighbour. Harry. Harry, who she’d given the cold shoulder to for the past few days.

His friendly face looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps. A slightly flustered expression on his face. 

‘’Hi Harry,’’ she smiled. ‘’You alright?’’

Getting up from his crouched position, he moved aside, letting her stand in front of her own door. ''Oh, you life saver, been waiting ages.’’

She looked up at him, a glow on her face, not too sure if it was caused by the pints or his general presence. ‘’What for?’’

‘’I’ve been a right numpty and locked myself out.’’ he laughed. 

‘’Oh shit,’’ she laughed back, buzzing from alcohol. Y/N was a lightweight by definition; the smell of alcohol could probably get her drunk, and at this moment she felt buzzed.

‘’I know, pain the arse,’’ Harry said, pinching in between his eyes. ‘’Can’t even try to get a key cut because everywhere’s shut.’’

‘’You got any friends that’ll let you crash for the night?’’ Y/N asked, feeling genuine concern for the poor boy sitting outside their doors. She hadn’t even asked how long he’d been there—it could have been hours. 

‘’Tried a few but got no response,’’ Harry sighed, "I guess no one wants a rogue sleepover at 10 at night.’’

‘’Good friends you’ve got,’’ she teased, confidence of drink taking over her. 

‘’Oh shush you,’’ he playfully said back. 

A small silence fell over the toy as Y/N fumbled around in her bag to find her keys, the street light giving her enough of a torch to be able to find them. Every time she drank, she’d experience a small panic that she’d managed to lose all of her belongings, but luckily for her, everything seemed intact. 

‘’So what are you going to do?’’ Y/N said as she went to put her key in the lock.

Harry paused for a moment. While the two had shared the occasional message and nice chat over coffee, he felt a bit bold with what he was about to ask. Not being the most social person, he had weighed out the options of whether or not it would be awkward if she'd say yes to his question—he'd more than likely have to sit chatting for a while and then maybe have an uncomfortable sleep on whatever sofa or bed she’d have to offer—but at the same time, he reminded himself that it was only Y/N and whatever awkwardness could have come between them had well and truly been dissolved by their initial meeting. And truthfully, Harry was all for saying outlandish things and asking rogue questions, so if she did say no, he’d just take it on the chin and find somewhere else to go. 

‘’I hate to ask,’’ he paused sheepishly. ‘’I really do. But by any chance, I could come in for a bit, or at least till one of my friends picks up their phone and lets me stay around theirs.’’

‘’You hate to ask?’’ Y/N smirked, cocking her head to one side. ‘’Am I really that insufferable?’’

Harry’s eyes widened at her words. ''N-no, no, not at all. It’s just that I thought, ’’

‘’Stop your blubbering for a moment,’’ she laughed. ‘’It’s fine, really.’’

‘’You sure?’’ he smiled. ‘’Don’t have to say yes, 'coz you feel sorry for me.’’

And yes, Y/N did feel a bit sorry for the blubbering boy sitting in front of their adjacent doors. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being locked out of her own flat and left out in the cold in London with nowhere else to go—it was a frustrating inconvenience to say the least. Plus, Y/N was always a bit of a generous soul, never really able to say no to people, always biting her tongue when she felt awkward, and with a few pints combined, she was feeling especially generous. 

‘’Honestly, no bother.’’ she replied, unlocking her door. ‘’I’ll probably be awake for the next few hours anyway, so companies are good.’’ An absolute lie on Y/N’s part. Any drink would usually send Y/N into a tired haze, and she couldn’t think of anything better than sticking on her pyjamas and curling up in bed, but it’d have to be put on hold for the night. 

Following her up the stairs and into her living area, Harry let his eyes analyse the room. Fairy lights adorned nearly every wall, blankets crowded on the sofa, a few plants dotted around the room, and an endless amount of cookbooks—while Harry didn’t know too much about Y/N, he could still recognise that her little flat was an exact replica of her as a person. 

‘’Nice place,’’ he said, placing his backpack down on the wooden floor. 

‘’Cheers,’’ she smiled, ‘’similar to yours?’’

‘’Similar size, but mines full of cardboard boxes at the moment,’’ he laughed, ‘’yours has a lot more life to it.’’

‘’Took a good few IKEA trips to get it this perfect, I won’t lie.’’ Since walking in, Y/N had dropped her bag by the door, walking into the kitchen space to find some snacks or atleast a drink to give to her unexpected guest. 

‘’You want a cider?’’ she asked, rummaging through the fridge to find a can of Strawberry Old Mout that she had left over from the last time she had a guest in her flat. She couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous as she looked around the brightly lit fridge - it felt weird having Harry in her flat. Different somehow, more intimate than their casual chats down in the cafe or over text. But especially after her little moment of weakness the other day and the fact that he more than likely had a girlfriend, she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on being the good host she was. 

"You know what- I’ll take one," he replied,thinking nothing sounded better than a cold cider after his shambles of an evening. ‘’Only if you’re drinking too - don’t wanna start getting leathered on my own,’’

‘’As if you’d get leathered off of one cider,’’ Y/N laughed, passing him a can and cracking open her own, ‘’Plus I’m 5 ciders deep already so think it’ll be me getting leathered, not you.’’

Harry shared a laugh with her, holding his hands up in defeat, ‘’Alright, you piss head. You just been necking ciders on London streets then or what?’’

‘’Oh shut up,’’ if she had been closer to him, Y/N probably would of swatted him on the arm for the absolute nonsense that left his mouth but the kitchen counter separated the two, so she kept her arms to her side, ‘’I was just out in the pub.’’

‘’So that’s what the mysterious Y/N gets up to when she’s not running a cafe,’’ he said, raising his eyebrows as if he’d uncovered some maddening truth about her.

‘’Mysterious?’’ she snorted back regrettably but she couldn’t help it and plus after a few drinks, her snorted laugh always seemed to appear.

‘’Well ye-yeah, mysterious.’’ he paused, taking another big gulp of his drink and Y/N wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d managed to finish it by now. ‘’Haven’t heard from you in a few days and then you come swanning in after a few pints, I’d say that’s pretty mysterious.’’

‘’God, you talk some shit,’’ she said, laughing at his use of words. 

‘’S’true though, haven’t heard from you.’’ 

‘’I haven’t heard from you either?’’ 

‘’You liar! I texted you the other night and got no reply,’’ Harry said, clutching at his heart in a playful manner, ‘’really hurt my feelings.’’

‘’You’re such a windup,’’ she grinned, ‘’Didn’t take you as the type to be hung up over no replies,’’

‘’Broke my heart really. I was waiting for you to reply and say you had a cake and a chat waiting for me but got nothing.’

So maybe Y/N hadn’t taken his hints wrongly. 

‘’And then my sister turned up and I couldn’t even come round and pester you for a slice of lemon cake,’’ he continued, ‘’my plan went out the window,’’ His sister! Y/N mentally scolded herself in her head for being so silly that night and thinking the worst.

‘’Your plan?’’ she challenged.

‘’Yeah, my plan to butter you up and then steal every last slice of cake you had going for you.’’ he joked. 

What an idiot, Y/N thought. But a funny idiot, nonetheless. ‘Ah, well, you should have told me your sister was round and I would have been more than happy to share something with her - sure, she would have been better company than you anyways,’’ she joked, in return. She couldn’t tell if it was the ciders making her head feel dizzy or nonchalant playfulness, but she felt giddy and confident. 

‘’No one likes a liar, Y/N.’’ he beamed, ‘’We both know that’s a massive lie.’’

‘’Hmm maybe.’’ 

‘’So, pub, did you say?’’ he questioned, ‘’W-was it a date or?’’

‘’Think I go to the pub on a first date?’’ she said, raising her brow in amusement. 

‘’Nothing wrong with a pint and a bag of crisps for the first date.’’ he defended.

‘’It’s that where you take all your unlucky ladies then?’’

‘’Ha! Unlucky. It’d be the luckiest night of their lives,’’

‘’Oh I bet,’’ Y/N laughed, ‘’But no, just a few drinks with some of my friends. Nothing mad.’’

‘’Very cool.’’ Harry grinned. 

‘’Shut-up,’’ Y/N grinned back in return.

The two fell into a silence, each other not really knowing what to say. Y/N could feel the lull of the alcohol weaning off and she knew she’d be drifting off if she stayed up any longer. She didn’t want to come across rude, enjoying his company but her bed was calling her name and she needed to call it a night knowing she had to be up in  the morning to sort out admin for the cafe. 

‘’I think I might head to bed, I’m feeling knackered.’’ Y/N sighed.

‘’Leaving me all alone, one cider deep?’’ Harry laughed.

‘’Sorry but I don’t think I can keep my eyes open for any longer,’’ A giggle uttering from her lips, ‘’You’re more than welcome to stay on the sofa thought until you get your keys sorted and all.’’

‘’You’re a star, Y/N.’’ Harry smiled in return as he made his way to the couch to make himself comfortable for the night. He couldn’t have been more grateful for her in the moment, thinking back to not so long ago when he was out in the cold, locked outside of his flat. Course, they’d made familiar with each other the past few weeks but he couldn’t get over the kindness of the girl - or pity that she had for him - but either way he was thankful nonetheless. 

‘’There’s a few blankets on the side and some cushions so it shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,’’ Y/N paused, walking over the basket of random throws and cushions she had by the corner of her living room, signalling him to choose his pickings. ‘’Right, I’ll see you in the morning. Night Harry.’’

‘’Night, Y/N. Thanks again.’’ And that was the last thing he saw, her gleaming smile, cheeks red from alcohol as she walked down the hall to the last room that he knew now was her bedroom and headed to bed. 

/

Y/N woke up with a pounding headache the next morning followed by a dry mouth and a queasy stomach. She hadn’t even drank much but in her defense she rarely ever did so any alcoholic beverage would always send her sideways the next day. Blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through her window, she groaned, regretting the cheap ciders of the previous night. Her memory was a bit hazy, blurred by the fog of alcohol but she did remember one thing. There was a Harry on her sofa. 

Dragging herself out of bed, she quickly sorted herself out, combing through her hair and fixing her pyjamas, not wanting to look an absolute state in front of the boy. She stumbled to the kitchen, head throbbing with every step, desperate for a glass of water. But as she walked into her living space, he was nowhere to be found. Surely she hadn’t been so drunk she had imagined the whole night. 

She could remember everything from the loud music of the pub, the dancing and laughs she shared with her friends. And she most definitely remembered the blue eyed boy that was sat outside her front door, locked out from his home.  

She did a quick check of her phone to see if she had any texts from Harry but the only notifications were a few Instagram tags from her mates and a text from her mum asking what she thought of the banana loaf she had made. Nothing from Harry. 

Walking around the kitchen to grab a glass for her water, she noticed out of the corner of her eye the little notepad she had on her kitchen counter was opened, a few words scribbled on it and a black biro pen next to it. 

On the note read ‘Thank you for letting me stay last night, you’re an angel. I had to leave early this morning to meet the landlord for a spare key but I really do owe you. Let me know when you’re free, I’m thinking of dinner on me? Thank you again, Harry x’ 

With a little smile on her lips as he fingers traced over his messy handwriting, she felt a sigh of relief. Dinner on him, it was and she couldn’t wait.

-

a/n: thank you for reading. sorry for the wait!!! there defo won't be a long wait for part three. this is such a slow burn but promise it gets more cutesy in part three <333

#w2s #wroetoshaw #w2s x reader #harry wroetoshaw #harry lewis #harry w2s #sidemen #w2s fic #w2s imagine #wroetoshaw imagine #wroetoshaw oneshot #hollytoshaw #chris md #arthurtv #sidemen x reader

[pinkandlilacroses]

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Angel - Paige bueckers

part 1

• summary {when an unsuspecting girl falls for the basketball star}

•warnings {none (for now)}

•comment if you would like to be added to the taglist

bellas pov

“Im just saying, a rom com romance would be fantastic tight now” I state to my best friend, Avery. “i mean everyday is the same thing over and over” i continue. I can tell she doesn’t care, Avery’s been in a relationship with her high school sweetheart, Jake since freshman year.

“you need to stop being desperate” she says scooting closer to me on our couch.

this may sound rude, but thats just how Avery is, ane i guess ive gotten used to it

“nobody understands me” i say dramatically as i get up and walk towards my room.

“remember, we are going out tonight” Avery yells

fuck. i forgot.

i hate going out, theres to many people

i feel like sometimes Avery relyes on me, i mean sometimes i wanna hang out with other people, not just her. Avery on the other hand, im her only friend and i understand why, i love her but she is so mean to any and everyone that she comes across.

a few hours pass and i begin getting ready. i put on a matching pink set with a tube top and a mini skirt, i feel cute, i cant wait for this to get ruined by a bunch of drunk, sweaty college students.

i know i take a while to get ready, i mean its taken me two hours to pick my outfit and do my hair and i haven’t even started my makeup yet. my excuse is that you can never rush perfection.

“bella cmon we gotta go” Avery yells, ‘how is she ready so early’ i think to myself, finishing my coat of mascara.

“ok, ok, im ready” i say 20 minutes later. i can tell shes pissed, but it doesn’t bother me.

“your so dramatic, its a 5 minute walk” Avery says, annoyed, as always.

“i am not made for walking”

its only been 5 minutes since our arrival and i want to leave

“hey baby” a clearly drunk guy says, while he slyly brings his hand to my bare waist.

“who are you” i say, bluntly

“hey loosen up princess” he says, getting closer

i do like that nickname. but i hate him.

“im gonna go now”

i dont know if im straight, to be honest. i was raised in a household where anything but straight was a sin, so i never really questioned my interests. but whenever i see a girl who is tall and strong, my straightness goes out the window, and i feel like im sinning. ive never done anything with a girl before and im scared, i dont know if i ever would.

i walk away from the drunk man and towards the bar

“oh my god im so sorry” ‘fuck. why am i so clumsy’, i say to the girl i bumped into

“nah your all good” she says, looking down at me

i hadn’t looked at her, but now that i am. i never wanna stop. shes tall and blonde.

“hi, im paige” she says, breaking my admiration.

“im bella” i say, shamelessly checking her out

she has on grey sweatpants and a black tshirt. hot.

“do you go here” she says, continuing the conversation.

“uh, yeah, im a junior” i say, stuttering. why am i stuttering

“are you nervous?” she says, bringing her face closer to my own. yes, i am so nervous, you make me so nervous, ohmygodohmygodohmygod

“no” i say, unconvincingly.

“you sure?” she questions again. im not ok

“your on the basketball team, right?” i say, attempting to shift the conversation

she chuckles

“yeah” she states, moving back to her original position, further away from me. come back

“have you heard of me” she says, cockily

“i think everyone has here” i say, to be honest, i dont know anything about basketball. but ive heard of her before and her eyes have me trapped, there so blue and inviting.

what am i saying

“i wanna know more about you though” she whispers, moving closer than before.

“what do you wanna know” i say wrapping my arms around her neck. i dont know where all this confidence has came from

“yo paige” some girl says, she turns around and breaks the position we were in.

“iceee” she says, dapping up her teammate

im offended.

i make my way from her and towards my friend group. i want to go home

“was that you flirting with paige bueckers”

“we were just talking, shes not interested”

“girl, paige would be interested in a tree if it had a pussy, she is definitely interested” chanel says

everyone laughs. but me

im confused, why am i attracted to her, i like men, not women.

“bella cmon, lets get you home” Avery says, i mentally thank her from saving me from this conversation.

i tuck myself into bed after taking my outfit and makeup off and get ready for my favourite activity. sleep, until.

xxx-xxx-xxx

- hey is this bella?

what the fuck. do i have a stalker

bella

- yes

xxx-xxx-xxx

- hahah thank god

- this is paige

what the fuck

A/N - first fic, how do we feeeelllllllll

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn wbb