Pairings: Wally Clark x Fem!reader
Warnings: +18 SMUT MINORS DNI. very slow burn. semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, teasing, heavy sexual tension, explicit dirty talk, praising, degradation, skinny dipping in a public pool, possesiveness/jealousy, light choking, rough gripping & mandhandling, overstimulation, wally being a cocky little shit and very possessive, kinda dom!wally, risk of getting caught, begging, breeding kink. wally whimpering???? (god have mercy)
Summary: For what feels like an eternity, Y/n and Wally have been nothing more than just friends. but that changes one reckless night when they decide to cross skinny dipping off their "100 things to do before crossing over" bucket list. Teasing and meaningless flirting turn heated, and the tension that has been simmering between them finally snaps. Under the moonlit water, boundaries blur, and their friendship is completely wrecked, in the best possible way.
Author's note: this is part 3!! part 1 and 2 are linked below! thank you so much for the love!! I'm so glad you guys liked this small series. I'm so sorry I took so much to finish this oh my god. university has been killing me lately lol but here is part 3! i might make more one shots like this with wally cause I love him so much.
Word count: 2209
Song choices: lose control - teddy swims, tear you apart - she wants revenge, closer - nine inch nails, flawless - the neighbourhood, do i wanna know? - arctic monkeys, TiO - zayn, again - noah cyrus.
masterlist. part 1. part 2. part 3
⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Your entire body trembled as his fingers moved harder, faster, making your entire world narrow to the feeling of his fingers against your aching core.
Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath coming in gasps, but you didn’t answer.
You couldn’t. Not when you were falling apart in his hands.
Not when you felt so good pressed against him.
So fucking good.
"And now, baby?" His tongue brushed over your lips, slowly. "Now you're gonna find out exactly what happens when you push me too fucking far."
The water swayed around you, rippling from the way Wally had you pinned against the smooth tile of the pool’s edge, his body pressed so tight against yours that there wasn’t a single inch of space left between you.
His breath was hot against your lips, his fingers working you in slow, devastating circles. Your body trembled against him, your nails digging into his shoulders.
"You're shaking, baby." His voice was dark, thick with satisfaction, his free hand gripping your hip so tight. "And I've barely even started."
You dropped your head back against the wall, a desperate whimper falling off your lips. He was teasing you, holding you right on the edge, his fingers slipping lower, pressing, dragging, barely dipping inside of you before pulling back—just enough to make you lose your mind.
More. Please, God. More.
“Wally,” you gasped, hips bucking against his hand, a desperate pleading sound.
But he only chuckled, dark and rough, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “No, no. You don’t get to rush me. Not after everything you’ve put me through. You’re gonna take everything I give you, exactly how I fucking want.”
His fingers pushed in deep, stretching you, making you arch against him, a broken moan slipping from your lips. He swallowed it with his mouth, his kiss rough, messy, nothing but teeth and tongue and desperation.
And then—he slammed his fingers inside you.
You cried out, back arching, water splashing against the pool’s edge as his fingers curled, dragging slow, torturous strokes along your inner walls, his thumb pressing deliberate circles against your clit.
Oh my god.
“Wally,” you gasped again, this time more desperate, your entire body tightening as heat coiled low in your stomach. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”
But he didn’t stop.
“Gonna what?” His voice was pure sin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “Come all over my fucking fingers? Soak my hand while you scream my name? Say it.”
A sob tore from your throat as pleasure ripped through your entire body, making you convulse, your legs trembling. Your moan was so loud he clamped a wet hand over your mouth, groaning as he felt you tighten around his fingers.
“Fuck,” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours. “That’s it. That’s my good fucking girl.”
But he wasn’t done.
Not even close.
Before you could even catch your breath, he dragged his fingers out of you—slick, messy—lifting them to your lips.
“Open,” he ordered.
And when you obeyed, sucking his fingers deep into your mouth, his eyes darkened, his cock throbbing against your stomach. He pinned you tighter against the tile; he panted against your skin. His fingers still in your mouth, your tongue lapping at them hungrily, and fuck—he felt it. The heat, the desperation, the way you sucked his fingers deeper like you were trying to drive him insane.
“So fucking pretty,” he murmured, voice wrecked with lust, his free hand dragging up your thigh, squeezing, gripping, spreading you open beneath the water. “You look so good like this. So desperate. So fucking mine.”
His fingers slipped from your mouth with a wet pop, trailing down your chin, smearing your juices and saliva across your skin. He gripped your jaw, forcing your head back against the tile, his eyes devouring you.
"You wanted to tease me?" he rasped, his voice low. "Wanted to push me until I fucking broke? Well, baby—”
His fingers trailed down your throat, over your collarbone, until he was cupping your breast, rolling your hard nipple between his fingers, making you gasp. He pinched, just enough to make you whimper, to make you need more.
"You like pushing me, don't you?" He gripped your breast tighter, his thumb flicking over the hardened bud, making you arch against him. "You like watching me lose my fucing mind over you."
"Yes," your voice a breathless mess, but you still smirked, your eyes filled with lust. Oh, you were loving this. You loved seeing him like this. Feral.
His growl was dark, dangerous, with pure need. His other hand moved lower, spreading you again under the water, his fingers teasing, pressing, torturing.
"You love this, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear, making you shiver. "Love making me want you. Love knowing you drive me fucking insane."
His fingers ghosted over your soaked folds, barely touching, just enough to make your hips jerk. Your body was on fire, every nerve screaming, every part begging for more. He knew it. He could feel your body trembling in his arms. And still, he didn't give in.
He wanted to teach you a lesson.
"I could do whatever I want to you right now," he whispered, his lips dragging along your jaw. "And you'd let me. Wouldn't you, baby?"
You swallowed hard, nodding, breathless. "Yes. Fuck—yes.”
His smirk was sinful, dripping with possession. “Then say it.”
Your mind was a mess, wrecked, clouded with nothing but him. “I want you to do whatever you want to me.”
A dark chuckle rumbled through his chest. “There you go, baby, such a good girl.”
His fingers pressed harder against your entrance, teasing, circling—but not pushing inside. You whimpered, your hips bucking against his hand, desperate, needy.
“Poor baby,” he cooed mockingly, his tone dark, so damn cruel. “So fucking desperate. You need me, don’t you?”
“Please,” you whimpered, your body trembling, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Wally—please.”
"Please what, baby? Use your words."
"Need you inside me." Your voice was wrecked, raw with desperation.
He tsked, shaking his head. “Not good enough.” His fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance, dragging slick, lazy strokes against your soaked folds. “You need me where?”
You groaned in frustration, your head falling back against the tile. “Inside me. Deep inside me. Please.”
"That's better," he murmured approvingly. "See how easy that was?" He slid his fingers inside you, stretching you open, slow, teasing, his thumb circling your clit in lazy, torturous strokes. “You’re fucking dripping for me. Been waiting for this, huh? For my cock to fuck you until you're begging for me to stop?”
Your entire body trembled, heat coiling low in your stomach, overwhelming, unbearable. “Yes—fuck—please.”
He pulled his fingers out, making you whimper at the loss, before gripping your hips and flipping you, pressing your chest against the wet tile. His breath was hot against your shoulder, his cock grinding between your thighs, teasing you, taunting you.
“You wanted to play?” His voice was pure sin, dripping with dark amusement. “Now, sweetheart, you’re gonna shut the fuck up and fucking take it like the good girl that you are.” He lined himself up, his fingers digging into your hips. “And you’re gonna fucking thank me for it.”
Then, with one devastating thrust—he slammed into you.
Your entire body jerked forward, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as he filled you, stretched you, made you take every thick inch of him in one deep stroke. The water rippled violently around you, waves crashing against the pool’s edge, your bodies colliding with pure, reckless need.
“Fuck,” Wally groaned, his fingers bruising against your hips. “You feel so goddamn good. So tight, so fucking perfect.”
Your nails clawed at the tile, trying to hold yourself up as he set a punishing pace, each snap of his hips sending a shockwave through your body. He wasn’t holding back—wasn’t teasing anymore. This was raw. Desperate. Dominant.
His lips ghosted over your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin before he bit down, hard enough to make you whimper. “This what you wanted?”
You could barely breathe, barely think. “Yes—fuck—yes.” Every nerve was on fire, every muscle clenched tight, and all you could think was: more, more, more. You needed more.
His chuckle was low, sinful. “Such a dirty girl. Wanted my cock so bad, didn't you? All you needed to do was ask, baby.” He slammed into you again, harder this time, deeper, the force making you gasp. "But you didn't ask, did you, baby? You fucking teased me until I couldn't hold back any longer. You wanted this the entire time, you little minx. Wanted me to fuck you senselessly."
He drove into you again, deeper this time, his cock slamming against your cervix, making you cry out. The force of it made your head spin, your vision blurring at the edges. You felt him, every inch of him, inside you, stretching you, filling you, claiming you, a possessive, almost desperate grip.
“So fucking good,” he panted, his voice rough with need, his breath hot against your neck. He began to move faster, harder, his hips bucking against yours, the rhythm relentless, unforgiving.
Your head lolled forward, your hair falling over your face, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He was pushing you to the edge, driving you insane, and you were letting him, wanting him to.
“Wally,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea, a raw, untamed sound.
"You like it like this, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with lust. He pulled out, making you whimper at the sudden loss, his hands manhandling you with such ease, turning you around so that you're looking right at him, his eyes dark and possessive. "Fuck, baby. You take me so fucking well." He grabbed your thighs, lifting them a little bit more, and slammed inside you again, deeper this time, his gaze never leaving yours.
“Look at me,” he ordered, his fingers gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, dilated, filled with a raw, feral hunger that made your heart pound against your ribs. "Look at me while I fuck you, while I make you mine."
He began moving harder, each thrust deliberate and powerful, his eyes locked on yours.
"Tell me you're mine," he commanded, his voice rough, his grip tightening on your jaw. "Tell me you belong to me, baby. Please."
"Yours," you gasped, your body arching against his. "Only yours."
“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with desire, his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. “Give it to me.”
And you did. Your body clenched around him, your muscles spasming, a wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure washing over you, making you see stars, a raw, sensual ache. You cried out his name, your voice echoing in the night, your body convulsing around him.
He groaned, his own release building, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate. He slammed into you one last time, his body shuddering with the force of his orgasm, the feeling of him spilling inside you, hot and thick, made you whimper.
He collapsed against you, his weight heavy, his breath ragged and uneven. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, just held each other, breathing heavily, the silence broken only by the sound of the water lapping against the pool’s edge.
Then, slowly, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his gaze intense. “What did we just do?”
He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw, a gentle, almost hesitant touch. "Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.
You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, your breath still catching in your throat. "I… I don't know," you whispered, the words barely audible. "Are you?"
He let out a shaky breath, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. "I don't know," he admitted. "I'm not... But I think I'm okay with that." He paused, his gaze searching yours, looking for any signs of guilt, regret, or even fear. "God, you feel incredible," he murmured. "I think I might be addicted to you."
"We shouldn't have done this," you whispered.
He tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and intense. "Maybe not," he admitted softly, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip. "But fuck, I can't regret it. I don't, baby, I promise. Not even for a fucking second."
"Wally," you whispered, your voice trembling. "What if we just ruined everything?"
He leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. "Then we'll figure it out. And we'll do it together." His voice softened, yet the intensity remained, a promise buried deep in every word. "You're not losing me. No matter what happens, I won't let this break us."
You swallowed hard, feeling your heart ache and flutter all at once. Your fingers traced along his jawline, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. "Promise?"
His gaze darkened, serious and unwavering. "I promise. I promise. I promise. God, I swear," he murmured fiercely, sealing the promise with a lingering kiss. "It's you and me, baby. Always."
reader is so me with flip?
in my feelings. - lana del rey
⊹₊⋆ synopsis: "just another one of those shitty pogues" he said...
⊹₊⋆ pairing: pogue!waitress!female!reader x toxic!rafe
⊹₊⋆ word count: 1.2k
⊹₊⋆ contents: slight "enemies to lovers" (ish), a few sexual themes, obvious tension, rafe being a potential sweetheart / hopeless romantic ( finally locked the fuck back in and started writing again! )
nervousness; the single emotion which had never graced the dynamic psyche of rafe cameron.
he often flipped through the long list in his mind during the long nights he’d lay sleepless in his bed.
anger? check. regret? absolutely. extreme and often irrational hatred toward pogues? without a doubt.
it was no secret that if he viewed someone like scum, he would sure as hell treat them like it. it was safe to say that there probably wasn’t a single pogue left in the outer banks who hadn’t gotten shit from him in one way or another. however, you were the painfully obvious outlier…
you were never an unfamiliar subject for him. you’d gotten along well with his sister, been in his father’s good graces, and were just pretty enough to earn yourself an unofficial spot in the country club. to him, you were just about the furthest thing from a pogue he’d ever seen, but your clean white converse sneakers and designer denim shorts didn’t make you any more valid in his eyes.
he’d had it in him to give you a piece of his mind long ago. to tell you to go back to your side of the island, treat you like the dirt he thought your kind was, and maybe even give you a good beating once the sun had gone down. no matter how much that pretty face of yours sent his heart to cloud nine, he hated your guts more than any other pogue on the planet. or at least, he wanted to.
but you were the one girl on the planet who smoothed out his jagged edges.
as you swiftly travelled through the cafe, a tray in your hand as you dashed to deliver miscellaneous foods, drinks, and desserts to various tables, rafe’s eyes intently followed your every move, like a timid predator watching a particularly elusive prey.
this little routine of his went as follows: him and two of his hot-headed friends would just-so-happen to stumble into the exact cafe you worked at on the exact day at the exact time and take a seat at the concealed booth at the back, he’d feign oblivious offence when you begrudgingly took his order, and spectate you for the rest of the night, not even daring to blink in fear of missing the many times your skirt would ride up your exemplary figure, revealing just enough of your thighs to make his gut churn.
kelce whistles lowly as his eyes follow you from across the cafe, painfully less subtle than ideal. “man… that ass sure is somethin’ special, i’ll tell you that much.” he mutters under his breath with a laugh, elbowing rafe in the side.
however, the laugh quickly diminishes as rafe shoots a razor-sharp glare that could cut diamonds, his voice dropping an octave as he takes his friend’s shirt by the collar and whispers in his ear.
“listen to me, and listen good. i didn’t bring you over here to gawk at my woman, you hear? utter another word about her, and i’ll skin you.”
unlike most of his words, this threat was far from empty. the possessiveness in his voice was almost laughable, especially considering the fact that the only time you even looked in his direction was when you served him a drink. his obsession with you had started when you were both young, two kids who would stupidly practice kissing each other and share tight, fearful hugs in the darkness of his bedroom whenever a storm would break.
but like everything in life, it all had to go sour eventually. he began to care too much about his image and status in society while you still wanted to spend long nights with him surfing on the waves. the differences between you two only became more prominent from that point forward.
you were too emotional, he was too apathetic. he became an asshole, you became a bitch. you were saving yourself for marriage, and he considered a girl a prude if she denied him a blowjob on the first date. it was no wonder the hatred between the two of you was so strong.
but despite this, business was business. and if you wanted to collect your paycheck at the end of the month, you’d have to serve the elephant in the corner of the room sooner or later.
“hot coffee, no cream, no sugar.” you mutter flatly, reciting the same item he’s ordered every night for the past 6 months. you take the hot mug off your tray and set it down in front of the blonde, his eyes locked on your unamused expression.
you were even prettier up close.
the thought passed through his mind as his gaze travelled from your bright eyes to your perfect lips, going further until they reached the forbidden territory that hid under your skimpy apron.
“that’ll be $9.99.” you say sternly, snapping his gaze away from your chest, cursing yourself for not choosing less-revealing attire.
rafe’s eyes narrowed as they rose back to your eyes, his expression conforming to a scowl. “what? a black coffee is only five dollars!”
you rolled your eyes with a scoff. “being a perv costs extra. that’s the price of not having any goddamn decency.”
you knew how to rile him up, and that was by threatening his money. normally, he’d beat the tar out of any organism that even thought of squandering money from him, but you could barely fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as he attempted to sputter out a protestant response. naturally, he couldn’t say a word with you looking down at him like that, smiling ever so slightly at the conniption he began to have.
he tutted with disapproval, shaking his head as he dug into the pocket of his designer denim jeans, pulling out his leather wallet. he fished his fingers into the largest compartment, pulling out a fresh, uncreased twenty-dollar bill. he slammed it on the table, pushing it toward you and mumbling with defiant defeat.
“...keep the fuckin’ change.”
a smile lit up your face as you accepted the bill, stuffing it into your bra just so you could watch his cheeks flush once more.
you smiled sweetly as you picked up your tray from the table, speaking to the boys in a faux-submissive tone.
“if anything is not to your liking, you know who to call.”
with that, you sauntered away, leaving rafe to stare at you from behind as he sulked, his elbow resting on the table as he stared into his reflection in the dark pool of liquid that sat in front of him. “...nothing but a shitty pogue, is what she is…”
he muttered to himself, hating how much he kind of liked it when you bitched at him. he wanted to shout at you and kiss you and shut you up as he drowned you in the love that he had concealed from you for all these years. if he truly wanted to, he could’ve even followed you behind the counter and finally recite the confessional speech he had been practicing for months.
but instead, he huffed quietly, looking back at the loser who stared right back at him in his cup of coffee.
I started watching The 100 (yes I know late to the game) and it makes me cackle when someone uses “go float yourself” as an insult. I could not say that with a straight face. It’s like trying to say bubble in an angry tone. I understand why it’s an insult for them, but it’s so silly. I guess that was CW’s way of using swear words without actually saying them.
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: Being oblivious to Luke’s feelings, you tried to get over him by getting a boyfriend, who just does not know how to treat you right. Inspired by the song ‘Boyfriend’ by Dove Cameron ~ “I could be a better boyfriend than him.” (jealous luke, friends-to-lovers, fluff, angst, pining, happy ending.)
Warning: Just the boyfriend being an asshole and unwanted physical touch for a split second, but nothing serious. Sorry if your name is Cole. Violence (physical fighting)
Note: I’m sorry if there are a lot of errors, I haven’t had the chance to edit this thoroughly so if it feels like a train wreck, then I'm sorry. I just needed to write this out, get it out there, so I can go back to revising for my exams in peace lol, cause this plot/idea has been at the back of my head, I could not stop thinking about it or study properly. Lowkey hated how this one turned out, but whoops.
Word count: 4.8k
“People say that eyes are the windows to one's soul,” you once told him. You two have been best friends for a very long time: five years of being attached to the hip. Yet, you were completely oblivious to the way he looked at you. Even everybody at camp noticed and thought it was bound to happen. They were so sure that Luke and you would end up together. So imagine everybody’s surprise when something else occurred.
It happened right in front of Luke: Cole - a boy from Cabin 5 and son of Ares - asked you out, and you said yes.
It has been two months since that day. All Luke could do was sulk as he watched his best friend slip away. Of course, you still tried to spend as much time as possible with him. But even then, things have changed. There were no more of those content silences between the two of you. There were no more carefree laughs that made Luke feel like you two were the only ones that existed in this place. He used to walk you back to your cabin every night, hugging you good night or kissing your forehead close to your hairline if he felt brave enough. Moments like those convinced him you two would be like that forever. But his solace was taken in a split second. Now, you were so near, yet so out of reach.
It didn’t help that he saw you every day, like right now, as you sat in the middle of a gathering hosted by your cabin. Gods, even the wind seems to be in love with you, judging by the way it was blowing through your hair as if it was trying to twirl itself around those lovely locks that Luke himself used to always tug behind your ears. The sight of you always bathed him in this warm feeling, like the morning sun. Hence his nickname for you: sunshine.
Then his brown eyes landed on the figure next to you, and they hardened. He has witnessed it all: Cole’s backhanded compliments, ignoring you on your birthday, leaving you alone to talk to his friends, occasionally flirting back with girls who batted an eyelash at him, and then blatantly telling you that you were overthinking it. Luke knew he could treat you so much better.
You were sitting with your boyfriend and his group of friends, who often gave you weird looks or snickers. Gods, if it was him you were with, he’d never make you feel excluded. He would have his arms around you and defend you if his friends ever made snarky remarks. Not that that would ever happen anyway; you were well-loved at camp, and all his friends loved you. But he would treat you well, nevertheless, not like that dumbass sitting next to you.
One of your favorite songs started playing, and Luke watched as you genuinely smiled for once tonight. You touched your boyfriend’s arm, muttering something to him. Luke knew exactly what you were saying to Cole because you and Luke used to do this together. Except, you never had to ask Luke.
Whenever your favorite tunes were on, Luke would immediately pull you out of your seat and dance with you, laughing as if nothing mattered at all. Nights like those, he liked to imagine that the stars above envied them and what the two of you had. Now? He felt like one of them, watching from the outside.
Luke’s jaw clenched as he saw Cole shrugging off your hand on his arm. Gods, Luke felt like that idiot was taking you for granted, and his blood boiled. Before Cole, Luke used to always orchestrated some excuse to have you touch him - getting injured on purpose sometimes just to watch you frantically panic over his wounds and take care of him, volunteering to help you out with swords training just to touch your hand and pretend to adjust the way you were holding it, hugging you every time he greeted you and so on.
For a second, your mask slipped, and you had that look on your face, like something had left you emotionally wounded. It was the kind of look Luke would kill to never see again, and oh, the things he would do to get rid of Cole. Luke had to wrestle with the thought of marching up to Cole and beating him to a pulp. However, he did stand up to approach you.
You felt a hand touch your shoulder. When you peered at the person standing, your eyes immediately glimmered as they caught Luke’s. However, something foreign was gleaming in his eyes. The Hermes boy has always looked at you sweetly. But the way he was looking at you right now was filled with something much more intense - borderline fervent, like an obsession.
Cole finally glanced over at you for the first time the entire night. Unlike you, he instantly recognized the look in Luke’s eyes: hunger and longing. It was clear as day to everybody but you.
Luke extended his hand out for you to take and you understood right away. For the first time in two months, your hand touched his. Luke’s chest sunk and his breathing lost its usual rhythm for a second as your skin made contact with his. The Hermes boy finally looked over to Cole, and the Ares boy saw an immediate shift in his eyes. Now, they were filled with animosity and - the most obvious of all - heated jealousy.
Luke led you away from Cole and started twirling you around. You let out a laugh - the kind that was infectious and has always brought a smile to Luke’s lips. You both sang along to the lyrics. For once, your relationship felt restored, just like the good old days. Was it wrong that this was the happiest you have felt since you got together with Cole? You shrugged away the thought as the song slowly ended. Luke settled with both hands on your waist while yours were around his neck. Usually, you would put your head on his chest as you both slightly swayed around. But now that you were in a relationship, you kept a bit of distance between the two of you. You gaze up at Luke, who was already staring at you sweetly. The moment was perfect. Gods, you almost wished to stay in it forever.
Meanwhile, Luke hoped he could convey his thoughts through his eyes - the unspoken words he wished he had told you sooner. Could you not see the infatuation coursing through his veins whenever he was with you? Could you not see that you got him at your beck and call?
The look you gave him almost convinced him that you heard his thoughts. You leaned your head on his chest, caught off-guard by the speed of his heartbeat as it soothed you along with the music in the background. Feeling a heated look over his way, Luke glanced around and locked eyes with your boyfriend. Cole narrowed his eyes while Luke gave Cole a look of resentment and immense loathing.
Gods, he could be a much better boyfriend than Cole.
“Hey, man,” when you heard your boyfriend’s voice, you lifted your head from Luke’s chest and withdrew your hands around his neck. “I’ll take over from here,” Cole practically pulled you away from Luke and started swaying with you. Instead of feeling happy that Cole finally danced with you after two months of dating, you felt wrong. Cole's hands were on your waist, but they felt sluggish like his heart was not in it at all. Your ear was against Cole’s chest, so you caught the sound of his heartbeat. It sounded…too calm, almost cold and shallow, causing you to twist your lips into a frown.
You glanced up at your boyfriend but saw him staring behind you instead. So you glanced back and caught a glimpse of Luke before getting pulled around by Cole, who roughly yanked your face towards him. He kissed you almost aggressively. There was something cynical and bitter about the way he was kissing you.
Cole opened his eyes and conceitedly made eye contact with Luke. The Hermes boy glared at the sight of Cole handling you so roughly, claiming your lips so smugly. If it was him, he would be kissing you for you; he would be kissing you to show you how much he worshiped you and the ground you walk on, not to prove an empty point.
You finally managed to pull away when Cole let go of your chin. “All right, we’re done for the night, don’t you think?” your boyfriend muttered, quickly leaving you to return to his friends as if nothing had happened. Despite feeling slightly aggravated at Cole, you hated that you couldn't care less of his words at that moment, and the first thing you did was look in the direction Luke had been before.
Yet, he was not there anymore.
~~~
Your cabin was not on the same side as Luke’s cabin for this match of capture the flag. You were fighting off some people who were on the blue team. Years of training with Luke paid off because you managed to point your sword at the person’s neck and grinned when they put their hands up in surrender. You continued perusing through the area, trying to regroup with your team or take down another blue team member. However, you almost tripped as you witnessed Cole on the ground with Luke on top of him, repeatedly punching his face..
“Luke!” you called out, watching as Luke’s action faltered, and his eyes darted around frantically around like a lost wild animal. However, Cole took advantage of Luke’s momentary distraction to land a hit on Luke’s face. The Ares boy got off the ground as Luke stumbled and went for another punch. However, Luke dodged it effortlessly and rammed Cole against a tree instead.
“Hey, knock it off,” you yelled, standing between the boys to stop their flight. Luke immediately backed off, afraid he would accidentally hurt you if he didn’t. But Cole, in the middle of his blind rage, still swung for Luke and ended up striking you across the face instead. Right when that happened, Luke pushed Cole again and rushed to your side to assess your injury. At that very moment, Chiron approached the scene with one of Cole’s friends next to him, who promptly told the man:
“It was him. Luke initiated the fight.”
~~~
Luke wished for somebody to put him out of this misery as he stared at you from afar helplessly. He was so dotted that it hurt. Somebody must have answered his prayers because your eyes met his from across the field. There was a bit of sadness behind them, perhaps regret from how things ended yesterday. You whispered something to your boyfriend, but Cole did not even spare you a glance and waved his hand as if dismissing you from the discussion. Luke’s hand once again curled into a fist. He bit the inside of his cheek from the pain induced by his injury. The Hermes cabin counselor felt no bit of guilt in his body about his physical altercation with Cole. He felt smug at the sight of Cole with one black eye, busted lip, swollen cheek and a body sporting way more bruises than him.
You deserved better.
“Hey, stranger,” you greeted, sitting beside Luke. Almost immediately, he hooked one finger under your chin, tilting your head lightly as if he was afraid he might break you. The boy scanned over your injury, sighing at the sight of purple forming under your skin, indicating an emerging bruise. Even so, under the moonlight, you still looked heavenly to him.
“Devon said you initiated the fight. Is that true, Luke?” Luke frowned at the mention of Cole’s friend. Great, now he knew another idiot’s name. Meanwhile, you have asked this because you knew him. There was no way the boy you knew would lose control like this and swing his hands first.
“No, but what’s the point of telling Chiron that? It’s two against one,” he breathed out.
“Luke, you’re literally the friendliest and nicest counselor here. Of course, he would believe you,” you reasoned. You sighed disappointingly as Luke only shook his head in response as if asking you to drop it.
Now, you two sat in silence. It felt the same as the comforting ones you have had with him before - the ones that made you feel like you were at home in front of your fireplace, curled up with a book.
“Why are you with him?” and with that, the comfort evaporated as the air thickened. You and Luke rarely argued or even disagreed, so it felt like an unfamiliar territory every time it felt relatively tense between you two.
“I know you, which is why I know that you’re absolutely miserable with him, so I don’t understand why you’re still with Cole,” Luke commented, though his voice was quiet because he was considerate of drawing this type of attention to you. He had seen it before - Cole causing public altercations and storming off and you running after him with tears emerging from your eyes. He did not want to put you in the same position.
“Y/N, please, as your best friend…” there it was again, the word that used to make you smile brightly, was now the same one that brought you pain. You wanted more. “...You deserve better,” he uttered, his eyebrows slightly scrunched as he looked at you with those eyes. There it was again, the look so intense that you were convinced they could swallow you whole. Yet, you could not interpret them. So, you looked away.
“Luke…” you said his name almost like a warning sign. The boy sighed at this.
His fingers gently tilted your chin towards him, urging you to face him. There was so much contrast in the way he touches you and the way Cole does. You knew precisely why Luke wanted you to look at him: your eyes were your tell for him. Years ago, after you told him that eyes were the windows to one's soul, he told you that he knew this already because he had learned that your eyes will always tell the truth for you. That’s how, in so many instances, he would be the first to notice whenever you're upset.
“Y/N, does he make you happy?” you stiffened at the question. Words choked up in your throat as your mouth opened to answer. You wanted to say yes so you both could get over this conversation. But you knew he would be able to tell you were lying. The way he looked at you right now, as if you were the only thing that mattered. He seemed so vulnerable. Little did you right at this moment, Luke was willing to surrender and let you go if you said yes.
“Oh, this is who you left me to talk to?” Cole's voice broke you both out of the trance. “The person who beat your boyfriend?” Cole passive-aggressively spat, sneering from above as he looked down at the two of you. You called out to your boyfriend, but he quickly cut you off with a quick “Unbelievable,” before walking away. But Cole did this on purpose. He liked the attention he drew, even if they were at your expense, especially because he knew you would chase after him.
“I’m so sorry,” you muttered to Luke on your boyfriend's behalf as you stood up to run after him. Luke frowned as he shook his head. If you were his, he would never allow you to apologize on his behalf, nor would he give a reason for you to ever do that.
“Uhm, what are you waiting for?” Annabeth’s voice broke Luke from his irritated state. “Go after her,” the young girl nudged.
“I doubt I should do that, Annabeth. Last time I was with him, he ended up in the infirmary.”
“Yes, but you need to go after her before it’s too late.”
“It’s already too late.”
“No, it’s not,” the girl stated sternly, and when Luke peered over at her, he recognized the look on her face. From experience, he knew better than to doubt when Annabeth was right. So, he stood up and walked in the direction where you disappeared after your boyfriend.
“Stop it, Cole. I don’t want to…” Your voice grabbed Luke’s attention as he started walking in that direction, eyebrows furrowed.
“Come on, this is the least you could do to make it up to me,” Cole replied.
When Luke reached the scene, he almost went into an uncontrollable wrath when he saw Cole trying to take off your shirt as you objected and struggled out of his grip.
“I said ‘let go,’ Cole,” you yelled this time, pushing him back. Upon finally doing so successfully, a figure stormed past you and immediately flung at Cole’s cheek, right at the spot that was already bruising. The impact knocked Cole to the ground as he wailed from the pain. Averting your gaze to the person, you saw Luke. Like a deranged bull, Luke grabbed Cole by the collar and lifted him up, going in for another hit, but you quickly stopped him, calling out his name.
Cole, who did not learn his lesson, spoke again, “Gods, of course! He runs to your aid again. You must be a good fuck for him to get this attached. How many times have you fucked him, huh? Gods, you’re such a whore, you know that?” If it were not for your hands stopping Luke and removing his grip from Cole’ shirt, Luke would have ensured Cole no longer had a face.
“Cole, stay the fuck away from me. We are over.” Your words seemed to affect Luke more than Cole. It was as if Luke could feel an immense weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Let’s go, this is not worth it,” you told Luke. Cole barked a laugh at this.
“Man, you’re more trouble than it's worth. Do you know why no guys ever asked you out? You’re fucking difficult and clingy, that’s why. If it was not for that fucking bet, I would not have either.” Luke was about to launch at Cole but was caught off guard because you had already done it yourself. You punched him, aiming for his nose and teeth, making sure to break a few.
“You fucking bitch!” Cole spoke after he howled in agony. He spat out blood as his nose started bleeding, “Gods, you’re gonna pay for this.”
“Oh yeah? Come on!” you challenged him, motioning him to come over. Any sense of calm or restraint you had was long gone. “I’ll be the one sending you to the fucking infirmary this time,” right when you started approaching Cole again, you were quickly stopped by Luke. He stood behind you, one of his hands soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to calm you down. Luke averted his gaze to Cole.
“If you know any better, then leave, Cole. And don’t come near any of us again, or I promise you…” Luke trailed off, shaking his head as his eyes bore the weight of the promise he left unsaid, leaving it to Cole’s imagination as to what Luke would ever do to him if he ever saw the boy again. Something seemed to dawn on Cole as he saw the dark look on Luke’s face. Cole finally decided to leave the scene, limping away from the area as he muttered some insults under his breath.
You turned around and inspected Luke’s hand, which started bleeding again through the bandage. Taking his non-injured hand in yours, you wordlessly dragged the boy to the infirmary. Despite the excruciating pain spreading through his injured hand, Luke blushed at your action and followed you like a lost puppy.
The Apollo person on shift was someone you knew, so you managed to convince them to let you do the work on the Hermes boy. You observed his hand again, peeling off the dirty bandage from it. As you went to grab disinfectant, Luke softly held you back by flipped over his hand that was in yours so that he could take a look at your hand instead.
“Are you okay?” His words made you swiftly look over at him instead. There was a sad look on his face as he sat on the infirmary bed. You haven’t seen him this hurt and dejected in a long time.
“Am I okay? You’re the one with the bleeding hand.”
“You punched him quite hard.”
“He deserved it,” you settled on answering, hesitantly pulling your hand out of his so you could grab the things you needed.
“You know I had that handled, right?” you asked mindlessly, trying to fill the silence as you disinfected his hand and wrapped a new bandage over it. “I don’t need you to defend my honor or anything, Luke. I can hold my own ground,” you tried joking.
“No, I know you can hold your own ground. Besides, I wasn’t defending your honor,” he spoke softly, watching as you delicately held his hand with so much care. He wished you could hold him like that as well. A quivering sigh escaped his soft lips, his voice much less firm than he wanted it to be:
“I was defending the girl I’m in love with.”
You immediately looked at him, only to see him already gazing up at you. It was as if a blindfold had been taken off, you finally understood what your other friends were referring to when they said that Luke had always “looked” at you. His eyes were filled with adoration. However, this time, they were also decorated with pain.
“I could be a better boyfriend than him,” he stated, almost like it was a fact, and your gut knew it was true, too.
“So….Why not me? I watched you give Cole - a complete asshole - a chance with you. I watched him give you so much less than what you deserve. It pains me, but I still sit here and wait for you to look in my direction for even one second in the way I have always looked at you. I could be so good to you, Y/N. I waited for you to realize I could be the one who loves you so endlessly and treats you way better than all these guys combined. So…why? Please tell me why and put me out of my misery. Why is it not me?”
“Luke…” you rasped out his name. Despite the pain he was in, his heart could not help but throb for a second as it yearned for the sound of your voice calling out to him again. He almost scowled at himself for the way he was reacting to you. Gods, you managed to unravel him through the sound of his name from your lips. He hesitated for a second, wondering if he would even be able to take it at all - if he was given a chance with you. Would he be able to handle the way your skin felt against his, or would his heart burst into unstoppable flames? Would he ever be able to move on if you ended up breaking his heart, or would it remain in scattered pieces of you?
“I love you,” he uttered so effortlessly, which almost convinced you he had said it a thousand times before. In a way, he did, but only in his mind after every time he bid you goodnight. Gods, never did you think he’d say it out loud and put it out there. You almost said it before as well - out loud to the universe, but never brave enough.
“Luke, I never knew,” Luke wanted to sigh as he looked away from you. For the first time ever, he did not want to be vulnerable and let you see his eyes. The same ones that had been looking longingly at you for the past five years, and you were too blinded to see.
He could have sworn that he had been laying it on thick for the past years - all the touches, the looks, his actions. Luke would always linger near you and select you first every time he had to go on a quest. And if he ever were selected to go on one without you, the first thing he would do after returning is wrap his arms around your waist as he pulled you into a hug, breathing in your presence like it would bring him back to life from the gruesome battles he had to go through while out of camp. Did all those actions throughout five years not show you enough that he was infatuated with you? He wanted to reassure you that what Cole said previously was not true. Many guys wanted you but never asked you out because they knew he would be first in line no matter what.
"Luke, please, look at me," Of course he obeyed. His eyes met yours - the ones he always tried to find in a crowd of demigods.
“I never knew that you were an option. I did not know that I could choose you. I thought that even attempting to tell you about my feelings would break our friendship forever. I didn’t know you felt this way, too. In fact,” you dryly chuckled. “I was giving Cole a chance because I was trying to move on from you.” Luke tugged you closer to him, his fingers lingering on your hips. Thousands of thoughts speared through him as he tried to collect himself. A glimmer of hope presented itself as his mind toyed with the idea of you wanting him too.There was no way he was letting you move on now, not when you both have mutual feelings.
“I thought I was deep in the friend zone. Did you not see all the moves I pulled on you?” he asked.
“What moves?”
“Uhm—the physical contact?”
“I thought you were just touchy.”
“I walked you back to your cabin every night!”
“Well, I thought it was just a best friend thing?”
“The first thing I do after every quest is search for you, you’re always the first one I want to see.”
“I really, really thought it was because you were my best friend.” He groaned at all of your responses.
“But do know, Luke. You have always been my first option in everything. And I would have chosen you again and again, the first pick every round…if I knew you were up for it.” He groaned again, but this time out of temptation and satisfaction. He didn’t think the metaphorical butterflies were real. He slowly but surely stood up from the infirmary’s bed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You reciprocated, your hands around his neck. He leaned closer to you and gulped. He wanted to say the right words, do the right things and not mess this up. He took a deep breath and finally settled on what to say next.
“Can I kiss you?” He muttered in a low, raspy voice with a restrained manner, as if he was holding himself back. Five years of pining led him to this point. You almost melted at the sound of his voice.
“Kiss me, Luke.”
And he did. He pulled you up and arched down, connecting your lips together. He dove in as if he had been waiting for this day his whole life. He felt every breath knocked out of his lungs. He sunk himself into this moment like he was living for it rather than in it. He kissed you as if it was the only time he could and as if you would evaporate if he stopped. His hands moved to your face to embrace your cheeks in his palm.
You started moving your hands up his head and played with his curly hair. You tugged it slightly, and the action drew a moan from Luke. The sound caused you to break away. It made you flustered that you had evoked such an alluring sound from the Hermes boy.
“I wanna go slow for you, I really do. But it feels like I’ve been waiting for so long. I want to be a gentleman and not skip steps. But I can’t wait anymore,” he whispered before whimpering against your lips, “please be mine.”
He went in for another kiss again, but you pulled away. His heart clenched at this. The boy bit his lip and wanted to scowl at himself for attempting to speed things up. He was too greedy and wanted things too quickly for you. He almost whined at the thought of losing the chance he barely had.
“That was not a question, Luke. Ask me, and I’ll give you an answer,” he stared into your eyes, and it almost set him on fire. He never saw that much passion in them before. It almost matched his, and that made his heart fasten again.
“Will you be mine, sunshine?”
“Yes, Luke. As long as you’re mine too.”
“I have always been yours.”
——————————
masterlist
Join my Luke Castellan tag list
Rewatching school spirits is so funny because wtf do you mean Claire is evil, Xavier’s a murderer, they still go to group, yuri and quinn barely exist, what do you mean there was a teacher stealing thousands of dollars and a cheerleader blackmailing him for grades i forgot all this shit
Charley: Would you slap your best friend for a thousand bucks?
Rhonda: I would slap Wally for free.
Wally, tearing up: I’m your best friend??
BOOMSHAKAKALA YES GAWDD
summary: Rafe is so tall he has to lean down to hear you better. that's it.
warnings: none, me thinks. just a suggestive line at the end ;P
word count: 590
A/N: I couldn't help myself, so I wrote this blurb! this is my first time writing Rafe, let me know what you think! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical or spelling errors. feedback is appreciated!
The soft hum of the waves was a steady background to the crackling of the bonfire, the flames dancing as the heat mixed with the cool bite of the night breeze. You stood near the fire, feeling the warmth spread through you, but the presence behind you was what made your skin tingle the most.
Rafe was close, an arm wrapped around your waist with a casual ease that made you feel both safe and exposed at the same time. His thumb traced slow, absent circles over your stomach, his other hand holding a beer with the same relaxed grip he used when he wasn’t thinking about much at all. Topper and Kelce were deep in conversation, their voices more distant than usual, as if the world around you had faded into something quieter. Rafe barely added to the chatter, content to stay in his own head—or maybe it was you who had his full attention. You weren’t sure, but it felt like you did.
You turned your head, looking up at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. "You good?" You asked it quietly, as though you already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it anyway.
Rafe didn’t immediately respond, the sound of the ocean filling the silence. Instead, he leaned down, tilting his head as if to catch the softest whisper, even though you’d only spoken in your normal tone. His presence grew even more intense with the movement, his height hovering over you, his face drawing closer in that effortless, unspoken way that made you feel smaller and more drawn in with each inch.
"Hm?" His voice was low, just above a murmur, the sound of it vibrating through your chest.
You flushed at the gesture, a subtle warmth rising in your cheeks. His closeness, his height, the way he made the space around you feel like it shrank to just the two of you—it was disarming in the best way. His breath fanned over your skin, the warmth of it sending a shiver down your spine, and you could almost feel the heartbeat beneath his chest as he leaned in further.
You swallowed, your voice a little shakier this time. "You doing good?" You repeated, hoping your tone sounded steady, but there was no hiding the way he affected you.
Rafe’s grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he felt the slight hitch in your breath, his arm tightening around your waist, pulling you even closer. It was as though he knew exactly how much he was making you feel.
"Yeah, m'good, baby," he hummed, his voice deepening in that way it did when he was in his element. "Just thinking."
"About?" you asked, a whisper now, almost afraid to ask but too curious to hold back.
He tilted his head again, moving in just a little further, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The closeness, the heat of his breath, was enough to send a shiver all the way down your spine, leaving you breathless.
The moment stretched between you, charged with unspoken words and everything that lay beneath the surface. The bonfire crackled, the night air was cool, but Rafe’s presence was all you could feel now, the pull of him drawing you in further than you’d ever planned to go.
His voice was soft, smooth, laced with that teasing edge that always made your heart skip a beat. "Just thinking about how much fun I’m gonna have taking this little dress off you later."
(support banner by @cafekitsune )
this is for me trust
s/o scenarios to script ⊹ 。゚・
— sharing a playlist and sharing headphones while listening to it
— finding ways to subtly touch each other’s hands without others noticing
— them teasing you just to see your reactions
— them gg along with any date you want because they just want to be with you
— getting matching keychains and your s/o taking it with them everywhere
— a cold breeze hitting you and you starting to shiver so they give you their jacket
— them sneaking up from behind you to wrap their arms around your waist, pull you close and bury their face into the crook of your neck
— them leaning in and you thinking they want to kiss you so you close your eyes just to feel them brush your hair out of your face and whisper something romantic in your ear
— fixing their hair and them looking down at you with a soft smile playing on their lips, eyes silently adoring you
— them having a habit of asking for more kisses and pulling you closer after parting because they need more of you
— them helping you tie your hair while you’re eating
— waking up next to them and trying to get up but they gently grab your hand and pull you back down to hug you half asleep
— waking up next to them. the sun is peeking through the window, birds are chirping outside and both of you just stay in bed and cuddle and shower each other with kisses
— cooking breakfast and them sleepily coming into the kitchen to hug you from behind
— keeping the relationship a secret from your friends and having a movie night where both of you secretly hold hands under the blankets while furiously blushing
— both of you being out and it suddenly begins to rain so you both run for shelter and by the time you finally get to a small shelter, you’re both soaked so you both just laugh as you gently wipe the water from their face
— driving up to a view spot and slow dancing under the stars as love songs play on the car’s radio
— snowball fights where you run up to them, kiss them, before hitting them in the back with a snowball and running away giggling
— the classic you having something in your lips and them kissing it off
— them picking you up and spinning you around
— coat hugs where they put the hood of your coat up and give you a really warm hug
— them putting their scarf around your neck while it’s snowing and it smells like them
— leaving a kiss mark on their cheek and them refusing to wipe it off
— making christmas cookies together which turns into a food fight — you guys get flour everywhere, your faces are smudged with batter and the fight is finally ended when they hug you from behind, burying their face in you neck and picking you up slightly
— them tucking your hair behind your ear and looking at you with pure adoration
— holding hands and them doing the thumb rub thing
— dancing in the rain
— carving your initials into a tree
— underwater kisses
— building a blanket fort tgt and spending the whole night in there cuddling and talking
— brushing your teeth together and locking eyes in the mirror
— complaining about something but they can’t stop staring at your lips and kiss you mid rant
— sneaking out to get slushies at the convenience store at 3am with them and both of you coming back with a purple tongue
— holding each other’s hands in a crowded place so you don’t lose each other
— going to a party and everyone’s going crazy with the party poppers so you both are left picking confetti out of each other’s hairs
— holding hands, walking along the calm, lapping shore as the sun is setting, showcasing the most magnificent views of pink, yellow, and orange hues
— them sweating from doing something strenuous and you giving them a kiss as u gently pat away their sweat with a towel
— them helping you put on a necklace (and kissing your neck afterwards)
— new years kiss under the fireworks
— always finding a way to match your outfits even the tiniest bit
— them kissing your knuckles
— getting super excited after winning a game and hugging and kissing them on the cheek
— them playing with your hair and using it as a brush to tickle your cheeks
— talking about your futures together and both of you getting that fuzzy feeling
— them carrying you bridal style and both of you just gazing into each other’s eyes
— watching a movie and them getting bored so they start nuzzling into your neck and leaving a trail of small kisses on your cheek and neck
— every single one of their lock screens on their phone being you
— laughing so hard over something so stupid it becomes an inside joke between the two of you
— seeing each other after being separated for a while and running into each others arms and there’s a long hug that just goes on that’s so relieving for the both of you
— your s/o being in charge of taking pictures of the whole friendgroup during a trip and when everyone checks back on the pictures all they see are pictures of you. safe to say they were never put on photography duty again
— both of you being included in each other’s family events and milestones
— midnight walks together through the snow in winter where everything is coated in a beautiful layer of fresh white snow and everything is so tranquil and magical
— them pulling your beanie over your eyes before placing a small peck on your lips and playfully smiling at you
— them burying their face in your shoulder and pulling you into a soft and tight hug, making both of you fall onto the bed together. they then pull their face back such that your faces are inches away, eyes locked. their eyes flutter to your lips before tenderly kissing them and whispering “i want to drown in you. all of you”
— waking up next to them and admiring their sleeping face under the morning sunlight
— your hands being cold so you place your hands up their shirt on their stomach
— standing on your tippy toes to reach their lips
— them wrapping their arms around your waist to pull you deeper into a kiss
— them playing with your hair while you lay on their chest, their fingers gently raking through the soft strands of your hair, all while you talk softly about anything and everything
— waking up to them cuddling you
— hanging around at a basketball court together and them going “if i make this ill kiss you. if i don’t i’ll kiss you anyway”
— making snow angels under the stars together
— gg to a photo booth tgt and taking the cutest pics
— absolutely everyone commenting on how much love fills their eyes when they look at you
— watching the sunset and giving each other small kisses in between
— tracing their features as they gaze at you with pure love and adoration
— walking together as cherry blossoms begin to fall all around you
— exploring the forest together and them putting out their hand for you to gently take it and guide you along the trees
— spaghetti kisses (like in lady and the tramp)
— you smoothing out their messy hair
— having this thing going on between the both of you where you give each other love letters in the most creative ways and each time it gets crazier and crazier
— baking cookies and them randomly deciding to visit your house and they come up from behind you to wrap their arms around your waist and kiss you on the cheek. so you spin around and smudge a little batter on their nose and they just laugh
— palm kisses
— them coming up from behind you and resting their head on top of yours
— them holding your hair while you eat something on a windy day
— when you were younger you made a list of romantic things you wanted to experience and your s/o ends up finding that list and attempts to complete it
— going to a sports game and both of you show up on the kiss cam
— you driving and your s/o is in the car next to you at a red light so they signal you to roll down the window. when you do, they start blasting “kiss me” (or any other love song of your choice) on their radio and singing their heart out to you
— them smiling into your kiss
— doing their makeup and they can’t keep their eyes off you
— them drawing your initials on their notebook
— going sledding tgt and them falling over in the snow so you wipe off snow from their hair and face while laughing uncontrollably and they’re also laughing as their eyes are glued to your face
— kissing them and accidentally getting lipstick on their lips so you try to wipe it off and they just smile, grab your hand, and lean in for another kiss
— going to the beach at night and staring up at the moon while having deep talks
— kisses on the tip of the nose
— sharing an umbrella with them and they tilt it towards you
— pressing your foreheads against each other’s and scrunching your noses
— tracing shapes on their back as they doze off
— your shoelace being untied so they bend down to tie it
— making matching bracelets out of our eye colours
— writing your names on a padlock, locking it on a bridge and throwing away the key
— pulling them in for a kiss by the tie
— subtle touches
— them deboning your chicken for you (or taking the shells off the prawn etc.)
— burning all their favourite songs onto a cd and painting it to give them as a gift
— them putting their hand in the back pocket of your jeans
— getting mad at them and them doing the absolute most to make it up to you
— you saying something they think is so adorable they smile and look away
— them being all smiley every time you’re brought up
— falling asleep on their shoulder in the car and them trying to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible
— kissing under the mistletoe
— them lying on your lap during a board game with your friendgroup
— putting on a face mask for them and they cannot keep their eyes off you
— clinging onto them because you don’t want them to leave and they are loving every second of it
— collarbone kisses
— sharing milkshakes together and both of you going going to take a sip at the same time and locking eyes
— stealing something from them and them chasing you around trying to catch you. when they finally do, they wrap their arms around your waist, making you squeal and giggle. as you turn around, they kiss you and gently take back their belonging from your hand
— it’s snowing outside and you both cuddle up in front of the fire place with hot chocolate and watch the grinch
— them not being able to sleep and throwing things at your window to wake you up just to go sit with them under the stars
— board walks while holding hands
— going to a haunted house with your fg and the both of you give each other a quick kiss when you guys get to a really dark room
— making snowmen together and you’re both having so much fun bundled up in your winter coats
— them having you take the first bite of their food and blowing on it because it’s hot
— kissing their dimples
— soft launching your relationship
— helping them tie their tie
— them giving you one of their rings
— you not wanting to get in the pool so they pick you up and jump into the water with you
— sneaking out with them at night to go by the beach and swim
— watching the fireworks with them and they admire how breathtaking you look under the colourful glow of the lights
— them showing up at your door one night randomly bc they js “wanted to see you”
— you two getting ice cream and you asking them if they wanted to try some of yours and they say yes and ask if you want some of theirs and you also say yes so they kiss you
I got my stuff back
zed’s beef with addison’s wig is probably the funniest thing in the whole movie
NSFW alphabet challenge (request) pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader premise: the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it. (Janet and Wally are dating to increase their social value. meanwhile, Wally wants to get closer to her step-sister. you.) warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. non-linear narrative. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating (not on you). egregious use of the word 'baby'.
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A is for the addiction Wally develops once he sets his sights on you. He's feral with it. Can't get enough of your skin under his fingertips; your shapes fitted against his; the sounds you make when he takes you apart with his teeth and his tongue and his dirty fucken mouth. So different from the public persona he sheds the second you're behind closed doors.
B is for bad ideas. Like the one that crept in behind his eyelids the instant he noticed you, cute and soft and sweet as a kitten. God, he wanted to do something about it right there. In front of the roomful of people between you, no fucks given. Wally's impulsive on a good day and reckless on a bad day, and you inspire too many fantasies that he can't not want to live out.
C is for competency, control; the single-minded intensity Wally has for every task. How he moves with a perfect combination of aggression and grace on the field, catching the ball from the QB. Touchdown. How he folds over the hood of your car and fiddles with cables and tightens bolts and fixes the rattle in the engine. How he holds his own desire at bay to bring you to the edge, over and over and over again until you sob. How he makes you come as soon as he slides home, grinds in, measured and slow, making it last as long as he wants before taking pity on you and fucking you into the mattress.
D is for Wally's dirty mouth. The things he rasps at you as he takes you apart with his fingers, his mouth, his cock. "You feel so good, baby,"—"fuck, I love the way you taste,"—"I want you to come on my tongue,"—"that's it, fuck, yeah, don't stop, baby, just like that, so good for me, such a good girl..." His fingers dig into your hips as he guides you in his lap, up-down-grind-repeat; his lips on your throat, teeth in your skin, marking you up so everyone knows you belong to someone. Belong to him.
E is for the effort Wally finds himself making to see you smile. It's stupid, he thinks, because it's not like he loves you. He's horny and putting out isn't part of the deal he and Janet made at the end of Junior year. But then he sees some jackass try to touch you, making jokes Wally doesn't find funny, drawling that he'll treat you special and make you see God as you shove and kick at him. Then you start crying and Wally sees red. Steps in. Pummels the guy's nose into his skull so hard, Wally's knuckles are scraped and bloody when he caresses your face and kisses your forehead. Promises to drive you home from the party. "Fuck that guy, baby girl, he won't touch you again."
F is for the way Wally shamelessly flirts with you. The back-and-forth you and he have when surrounded by people. Dark and husky, leaning in close with his back to Janet who's too busy with her drones to care what Wally's up to. You're fierce and funny and you flirt right back once you're comfortable enough, but Wally's had a lot of practice and knows how to get you hot with the right inflections. Eyes dark and heavy, lips brushing your ear, breath ghosting your skin while his fingers trail over your hip, "I bet you'd look better on your knees for me, baby."
G is for the God-given talent Wally has. You know the one. That one he weaponizes when he wants you to stop being stubborn, be a good girl, behave. He spreads your legs, kisses down your body, then delivers his bribe; tongue-deep inside you, making out with your pussy like a gourmet dessert de la crème. He could spend hours there if you let him, moaning when you grind your pretty pink kitty against his mouth, so close, Wally, oh God—it's all he needs to sustain himself.
H is for how Wally holds you down against the mattress; up against the wall; in his lap as he sits back on his haunches, one arm banded around your waist, the other braced behind him as he rolls his hips up, sharp thrusts and deep grinds into you, "That's it, baby, keep bouncing on daddy's cock...just like that...fuck." His big hand clasps your thigh when he flips you onto your back, pushing it up as far as your flexibility will allow, spreading you open for him, wanting to get as deep as he can, wanting to make you scream his name and forget your own.
I is for the intensity of Wally's stare as he watches you from across the room, his eyes tracking you as you laugh with your friends. He strips you in his mind, licks his lips as your skirt rides higher on your thigh when you cross your legs. A flash of pink lace, the panties Wally asked you to wear that make his jeans tight and mouth water. He cups himself through the denim, casual, sprawled on the opposite couch, gaze smoothing up your legs to your hips to your collar, fucking you with his eyes until you notice and give your friends an excuse to follow Wally to the bathroom.
J is for the jealousy Wally has to keep tightly contained in his bones whenever he sees another guy approach you. Like Jacob from Pre Cal, who flirts with you as if he doesn't know you belong to someone else. Wally is too obvious, he's aware, glaring daggers at the retinue of possible others who dare step into your space. Careful, collected, Wally has to smile like he doesn't notice them as he struts over and positions himself at your back, hands on your hips to drag you against him, ass fitted into the cradle of his pelvis. He watches in satisfaction as the dipshits take their leave with their tails between their legs.
K is for how Wally kisses you. The variety of ways. Pushy and ruthless when he's agitated; too much energy and no outlet. Or soft and slow when he just wakes up, liquid smile and heavy eyes, hand cupping your jaw like you're something precious. He nips and tugs your lips with his teeth when a teammate makes a comment just this side of not fucking funny, Gary and Wally isn't allowed to do anything about it. Sometimes, his kisses are sharp, honed, exactly what you want to feel so he can get what he wants. Always, his kisses are stolen. Behind locked doors, in dark corners, wherever he can snatch them from you without getting caught.
L is for the feeling Wally is terrified to label. The one that blooms in his chest whenever you touch him, smile at him, say his name, move, breathe, exist. Shit. It's warm and tingly and drives him to distraction because this is just a fun way to pass the time, to make things more interesting; he can't want you like that... But he does.
M is for the mess Wally makes of you when he fucks you in an alley or an empty classroom or behind the stadium. Thick cock slamming into you until you come at least twice, your panties around your ankles, his jeans at his thighs, pounding into you as he grips your hips so hard you bruise. He pulls out just enough to paint your pussy with his come, smearing it through your wetness with the tip of his cock, letting his spend and your juices trickle down your leg. And when you're forced to wipe yourself off with your ruined panties, he pockets them before you can throw them away, smug and satisfied.
N is for the fact that there's nothing Wally won't try with you, do for you, take from you. He wants everything you have to give. Is determined to taste every inch of you, from top to bottom, back to front, he doesn't care, he wants it all. He's never been this consumed by someone, thinks it'll fade the more he fucks it out of his system. It doesn't work. There's always a next time, and a next, and a next. And every time he leaves wanting more.
O is for Wally's inability to be subtle when you're around. Overt, obvious, open stares of lust when you walk into a room regardless of who else is in it. His heartbeat quickens, his breathing shallows, and he feels like a mutt in rut. All dark eyes and desirous smirks, hands grazing your body when you get close enough. He thinks he's slick, secretive, getting away with murder. But the truth is, he couldn't hide how he feels about you if someone put a gun to his head.
P is for the pleasure Wally takes in pampering you. He's a gentleman like that. What makes you happy makes him happy and, fuck, he loves to dote on you. From opening car doors to surprising you with your favorite Starbucks order. Showering you in presents he thinks you'll fill out perfectly for him. His pretty little passenger princess; a precious paper doll that he dresses up like a gift just to unwrap immediately with greedy fingers.
Q is for the question Wally wants to ask but can't. The one that makes things official. That ties him to commitment and expectation. Ignoring that you're the only place he's getting his dick wet, he's not ready for that. Until he catches himself smiling—soft and fond and affectionate—when you send a text that has nothing to do with where you want him to fuck you next. And, ah hell, maybe he does want to ask. Too bad he doesn't have the nerve.
R is for how riveted, rapturous, fucking obsessed Wally is when you ride him. No matter what he claims—"your turn to do all the work, baby"—he can't hold back, always fucks up into you, flushed, panting, hands clenching your hips and stroking your thighs and squeezing your ass. He watches your body, sweet liquid movements as you ride his cock like a goddess, and comes faster than he otherwise would. But that's fine because Wally has the refractory period of a fucking nympho.
S is for those soft, sweet, silly moments that you share. The ones he coaxes out of you during the domestic lulls between fucks. He invited you over for the weekend, Janet at some friend's lake house and Wally's parents visiting his aunt one state over. Perfect timing. And it is all hard thrusts and pinned wrists and love bites on your thighs, but then it's jokes over pancakes. Forehead kisses as he holds you in the shower. Hand-holding while you walk to the gas station for snacks, his thumb sweeping the back of your hand like he loves you. Sentimental.
T is for the toys Wally loves to tease you with. He's not afraid to introduce other means of stimulation into the mix. He'll do anything if it makes you shake apart for him; if it'll make you whimper and beg for more before you plead for him to stop, too much, Wally, it's too much, I can't as he presses the vibrator against your clit. He never listens, too enraptured by the expression of pleasure on your face, the way your body responds for him, fuck, yes, "that's it, baby, come for me again, show daddy how good you feel."
U is for how uncharacteristic, unpredictable, underutilized Wally's control has become since he started this with you. He was the image of dark and dominant behind closed doors, but, three months in, he can't keep himself in check. If he has you—against a wall, in the backseat of his car, in bed, in the shower, in. on. against—his control snaps as soon as you make a single sound of wanting pleasure. He goes feral for those noises. They're his complete undoing. And he'd surrender everything you asked for just to hear them one more time.
V is for the voice notes you and Wally swap when you and he aren't together. When he hasn't had a chance to sneak away from Janet or football practice or homework in too long and he's desperate for release. He strokes himself to the tempo of your whimpers and sighs, fucks his fist when he gets to the edge before slowing down and switching voice to video. He loves to show you what you do to him, how heavy and flushed and thirsty he is for you. "Your pussy sounds so nice and wet...now show me how you want me to fuck you, baby."
W is for every whim and want Wally indulges. Of yours. Of his. Mostly of his. Gluttonous and gourmand. You want to taste caramel on his cock? Go for it, baby. He wants to get messy with whipped cream? Okay, daddy. He wants to tease you with vibrating panties while you're trying to eat at that new place on Lasher? Okay, daddy. He wants to tie you up and spank you because you came before he said you could? Fuck, yes, daddy! ... Good girl.
X marks the spot Wally hammers into at exactly the right angle when he's feeling generous. And he always feels generous with you. He's addicted to the way you look when you come. Because he did that. He made that happen. It's empowering and euphoric and he can't get enough even though he should've by now.
Y is a word followed by 'not'. A question you ask when Wally hoists you into his arms and pins you to the wall with his hips after one of the leads in the school play asks you out. He grinds against you, cock throbbing, head angry, and reminds you who you belong to; why you can't say yes to Alex Greenberg even though it's all pot kettle black. Still, as he tears your panties at the seam and fucks you with abandon, desperate and aggressive, he makes a convincing argument.
Z is for how it ends. With her, not with you, because Wally's too far into the addiction and wouldn't last a day without getting his fix. He needs you. Wants you. Fucking shit, he loves you. So it's goodbye Queen Bee Janet and hello to her silly, sexy bombshell of a step-sister. Wally has no regrets, his hand on your ass as he walks you into Prom, fist-bumping his friends and saluting the principal. He loses his crown and doesn't care at all, too wrapped up in you to notice. Hands on your hips, brow against his, fitted perfectly against him like a puzzle piece.
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below are the links to the complete collection of Alphabet Soup. you can also find all related content HERE as well as reformatted chapters on AO3.
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Alphabetical Masterlist:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Linear Masterlist:
B T K A F P V R M S D C I J H W N O E X G L Y U Q Z