REGULUS BLACK

“as i got older, i learned im a drinker.

sometimes a drink feels like family.”

Tags

marauders the marauders regulus black all the young dudes atyd atyd marauders

𝐖𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Angst

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Parties were secret affairs at Camp Half-Blood.

Well, secret from Chiron, the one who would put an end to them. Mr D. could usually be convinced by one of his children to keep quiet if a dash of something alcoholic was poured into his Diet Coke. Once curfew had passed and all the younger children had been safely and snugly tucked in and Chiron and Mr D. had retreated to Big House, all those involved would gather in one of the emptier cabins that had older campers. The Hypnos kids would place a sleeping spell on the younger kids that belonged to the cabin hosting the party.

And then the fun would begin.

The alcoholic beverage supply was not immense, but there was enough provided from older Hermes campers to get, well, severely wasted.

Luke knew that path hadn’t been your initial idea, but you were well on your way there.

He on the other hand, hadn’t drank that much, stopping after he noticed just how much you had been drinking.

You weren’t usually like this. As a daughter of Apollo you were intelligent and responsible, a trusted head counsellor and a masterful healer. It was usually he causing mischief and getting hurt, and you patching him up and reprimanding him.

How the roles had reversed. Instead of your modest camp uniform and demeanour, you were in ripped jeans and a striped tank top and had converted into an absolute entertainer, lighting up the room. You weren’t acting like a semi-rowdy nineteen year old anymore, but a fully-wild twenty-five year old college student. He wished he was as drunk as you, because it seemed you were having the time of your life from how enthusiastically you were laughing with a random Ares girl you had traded drinks with.

Instead he was the only vaguely sober one in a crowd of drunk late teens playing inappropriate games or dancing. It wasn’t fun anymore.

The games were the only thing that kept him there.

“Ok… y/n,” one of your sisters - he couldn’t tell in the dim light, Apollo children all looked golden - drawled, pointing insistently to you. “Do a dare or spin the bottle!”

He observed as you appeared to think, contemplative as you sipped beer - gods you needed to stop drinking, please - before reaching for the glass bottle on the floor. The small crowd cheered and squatted in a wonky circle, Luke joining them and sighing lightly.

He hated this game. Hated how you would happily kiss anyone. He wished in these moments that he did have the courage to talk to you, to tell you how he felt and sweep you off your feet. And then it would be him you would kiss and hold hands with, and he would take care of you and do anything to make you laugh.

But instead you kissed others.

Finally, after a few clumsy grasps of the bottle, you drunkenly clutched it before giving it a rough spin. It whirled around and around noisily, colours shining off of it, and at that moment he loathed that gleaming glass neck, loathed it with a passion for pointing at everyone but him-

For not-

Pointing at him.

At him.

And by some miracle, by some grace from the Gods, it was pointing at him.

His heart raced wildly and he struggled to breathe as he glanced up at you. You were already looking at him. Your eyes looked golden in the light, and your hair covered most of your face, hiding your expression. He inhaled and exhaled shakily, hoping to calm down as he waited for your move.

You stayed still.

Still.

Maybe this was awkward for you, he suddenly realised, panicking. After all he was your best friend, of course it was weird to kiss your best friend. In fact you were probably waiting for him to call it off, but he’d taken so long to understand, he was an idiot.

“It’s o-okay,” he stuttered, cursing himself, “you don’t-“

You pounced at him, your lips smashing together. Immediately his mind went blank. It was burning, passionate, fierce, and somehow infinitely better than anything he’d ever guiltily dreamed about as he lay awake. He noticed vaguely that you’d landed in his lap and wrapped your arms aggressively around his neck. He was much more preoccupied by your lips, how they moved against his perfectly. How when you were this close to him, you smelled like chocolate chip cookies. How your lips and mouth and tongue tastes like flawless hot spun sugar. How you were into this, and into him. How all of his dreams had come true and maybe this wasn’t a terrible night.

And then you dragged a hand through his curls and it felt so good he had to fight not to groan, ugh.

“Get some, Castellan!”

“Something’s getting a little hot in here.”

And this meant nothing, he realised suddenly as the catcalls continued, his thoughts returning. Because this was all an act, something to impress the others and make them laugh from your boldness. Luke was just the pawn, something to elevate you higher-

He felt sick, his lips slowing, before stopping completely, pulling away from you. He faked a weak smile, drawing his face further away from yours and avoiding eye contact. He didn’t want to see the drunken humour in your eyes.

“Ok, your turn next!!” Someone yelled, and it was all over.

——————————————

So it stayed, an almost torturous existence before he noticed your eyelids drooping as you sleepily accepted the Ares girl’s shot glass. And finally, finally, he had an excuse to get out of this hellhole.

He walked over, dodging campers all around, before he approached, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, “I think we should get outta here. You seem kinda tired and so am I.”

“How did you know that?!” You asked incredulously, spinning around to him in shock.

“That you were tired?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “your eyes are all droopy, it’s kinda obvious.”

“Huh. Well, y’know what, I kinda agree. Let’s go.” You shrugged, waving to the Ares girl as you walked with him. You linked arms and he tried to act normal. You two never shared this much casual contact.

“What’s her name?” Luke asked, focusing on his surroundings, as you walked out the door.

“I have no idea,” you replied cheerily, breaking from him and taking a leap off the step. It didn’t end well, with you tripping and falling in a heap on the damp and cold grass.

“Are you ok?” He asked, knelt over you and concerned. You giggled, nodding and accepting his hand as it pulled you up.

“Ok, just- let me- hold onto me, ok?” He said, looping an arm around your shoulder to keep you steady. He held on as you laughed like a little girl and clung to his t-shirt all the way to your cabin.

The stars were nice tonight. For once, you could see them, like billions of shimmering white dots in the skies and it really added to the peace of the scenery. The air was cooler, there were no people, and it was so much quieter. More serene. He felt as if he could breathe. He glanced at the stars once more as he led you up the stairs to your door, before dropping your hand. Or trying to. You didn’t let go.

“Good night,” he whispered, giving your hand a squeeze and trying again.

Your grip wouldn’t loosen.

“Luke,” you murmured breathlessly, stepping forward, bringing your joined hands to your chest. He could feel your breath, warmth, pulse. Fast. Like his. “Why are you….”

“What?”

You looked as if you were going to say more, but couldn’t find the words, instead stepping even closer, and he could feel your joined hands compressed between your two chests. His chest was still, his breathing completely halted as your eyes observed him delicately, his eyes, nose, scar, jawline, cheeks, mouth, as if he was a priceless painting.

You met him once again.

It was softer this time. Your lips still moved in sync, but it was sweeter, calmer. If the other kiss had been caramel, this was smooth, gorgeous honey. As if you had all the time in the world to dazzle him with your smooth kisses. You probably did. Your hands were slower as well, leaving warm trails all over as they made their way down his back, over his sides and under his shirt, where your fingers traced the hard contours of his chest. He had to restrain the urge to shiver violently at your touch.

You pulled away a fraction, warm breath hitting his lips. “Come inside. Stay over.” You panted against them.

He wanted to. Tiptoeing in with a smile on his face and crawling into your bed, with you beside him? His dream. Being tangled in your bedsheets, waking up with every limb of yours and his twisted together, and your hair splayed over his chest? His Elysium.

But you were drunk, deeply drunk. And if he was ever lucky enough to experience any of that, he wanted to have the real event, where alcohol didn’t influence your willingness. He wanted you to be sober.

“I can’t.” He withdrew from you, out of reach. “You’re drunk and I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, I’m your best friend, you don’t like me that way. You’re just drunk.”

“Yeah. Like super drunk.” You affirmed, nodding enthusiastically. “But that doesn’t change anything. I like you sooo much-“

No. Luke wouldn’t hear this. After liking - maybe even loving - you for this long, your drunk, confused notions would hurt him too much. He refused to listen.

“C’mon let’s get you to bed so your hangovers not too bad.” He interrupted, taking your arm and leading you into the cabin. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Needless to say, you would never talk about it again if it was up to him.

He left quickly, once you were tucked in, before you could give him a response, with a hurried ‘goodnight’.

Once he was tucked comfortably in his own bunk in cabin 11, he pondered the night’s events. A whole lot of drinking. Stupid games. Not one, but two kisses. Even if they meant… nothing. They were nice either way, and probably the only two he would ever get from you.

————————————————-

The next day, he admitted, was a disaster on his behalf.

He’d had a strong plan to pretend nothing had ever happened. And then while he was getting dressed, four of his siblings wolf-whistled and smirked when they saw him. Clearly not something everyone had forgotten.

And when he saw you at breakfast, wincing slightly and looking drowsy, the moment your eyes had flashed to his, all he could think about were the kisses. He couldn’t see straight, and stumbled while he grasped his breakfast tray, and before he knew it, he hadn’t even said hello to you.

The avoidance gradually increased. After breakfast, he steered clear of you, going straight to his class with younger demigods. He didn’t make an effort to accompany an injured camper to visit you, instead sending one of their friends with them. And during lunch, where he’d usually visit you at the infirmary and bring food, he stayed at Hermes table, with nervous feet rooted to the floor.

He could tell by dinner, you were confused, hurt even, from the glances you were sending to him. And he wanted to go over, make it up to you by sitting beside you and telling you one of the Stoll’s latest schemes, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. It was like he was a shy toddler all over again, clinging to his mother’s leg, and he was so embarrassed for it.

That night, he swore the next day he would be better about everything. Be honest, available and just see how things would go from there. You guys had been through anything. Surely you couldn’t let each other down for this.

He woke early, with a clear mind and went to retrieve breakfast for him and you. Finding you in the infirmary, rolling bandages, he took a deep inhale before stepping in, ready.

“Hey,” he greeted, cringing a little at himself as you dropped the bandage in surprise, and watching as it rolled all over the umber planks in white streaks.

“Oh, uh, hey,” you replied, scrambling to pick it up and sending him a distracted smile. Not the greatest start, but he could improve.

“Sorry I haven’t been around. Been busy, around the place with new campers, y’know,” he lied, feeling guilty, “funny, haven’t actually seen you since we-“

“Hung out at the party?” You interrupted, nodding.

What? Hanging out? Just hanging out did not qualify ignoring him till the party was over and then two kisses and an almost-confession.

Unless you didn’t want to acknowledge the truth. Apparently, this was the case.

“…. Yeah.” He hesitantly agreed, searching your eyes for any signs you might want to take back what you said.

You wouldn’t even meet them.

“Anyway,” he placed the plate down on the bench, faking a smile, “here’s breakfast. Have a great day.”

And as he walked out, disappointed that you had let him down, he couldn’t help but wonder how things would’ve turned out differently if you had been sober.

How he wished you had been sober.

421 notes View Post

ohodie

5 months ago

Okay, Fine, Maybe We're In Love!

Pairing: Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: Part 3 to Totally Just the Fifth and Sixth Wheel and Still Just Totally the Fifth and Sixth Wheel, You Guys. Regulus' resolve is crumbling, you are starting to realise the others might have a point, and there is a Quidditch game against Ravenclaw today.

Words: 6.7k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, use of y/n, pining as per usual, bickering/banter/teasing, minor injury, minor fight, public displays of affection, best friends to lovers, mental spiraling over feelings, possible inaccurate depiction of quidditch, background dorlene and rosekiller

Note: this is so much later than i promised, BUT it's also longer so... fair deal? it's been so sweet how many of you requested this one, hope it lives up to your expectations<3 final part

Regulus rarely had dreams that were not nightmares, but when he did, they were of you.

Something he never gave much thought to, it was a given for him – he spent most of his waking time with you, it only makes sense that you sneak into his dreams. If you were bathed in a soft, ethereal glow in each one, Regulus did not let himself notice.

As he turned in his emerald sheets, face twisting into the pillow, consciousness started its pull on him while his mind still remained in his dream, you were all he saw.

The dream had started simply. It was you and him, sitting on one of the low stone walls on the castle grounds, somewhere half-hidden by ivy, a soft breeze rustling through the trees. Away from pestering friends and professors, just the two of you, finally allowing peace to settle in his heart. Your knee was brushing his from where you sat close by him, and your scent was filling his nose, in an overwhelming way he did not quite think possible. You were talking to him, but Regulus had no idea what you were saying, only that you were laughing and your hand was on his shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

He was saying something to you, and you smiled at him, all brightness and warmth, the one he knew you reserved for people you actually trusted. It glowed in a hazy way he knew to be the product of the dream he was becoming increasingly aware was a dream, but he let himself bask in it. The way you looked at him – really looked at him, eyes dark and deep and full of something he didn’t know if he was allowed to name – made his chest tighten. He felt your fingers curl slightly into his arm, pulling him closer, and he knew he could lean in and–

In the surreal way dreams sometimes shift, he was in the middle of kissing you. Hands already cupping your face, holding onto you like a lifeline. Your lips were soft and he was floating with a strange weightlessness as he fell deeper and deeper into you, like you were the only real thing in the world and a world in and of yourself all at the same time. You responded to him with gentle sighs against his lips that filled his mind and turned it into a whirlwind. Your hands were scorching hot against him as you pulled him closer, a heat that should hurt but instead was something he savoured. It was warm and sweet and completely, blissfully easy, like something he had done a thousand times.

It was a moment that felt like it should stretch on forever, never-ending, but with a thud on the horizon of his consciousness, your face was replaced with his pillow and your arms with his duvet.

Sigh.

For a few brief, hazy moments, he half-expected to open his eyes and see you there beside him, maybe giving him that slightly incredulous look you got whenever you thought he had done something too sentimental. Like a deer caught in headlights. Instead, all he saw was the dim light of his dorm room, and he realised with building force that it had been a dream. Better yet, that he was dreaming about kissing you. His lips tingled with the ghost of that kiss, as if you had actually been there, as if he could just close his eyes and fall back into it. Into you.

Regulus swallowed, his chest tightening as the dream slipped further from his reach, leaving only the hollow ache of waking up. Kissing you was the last thing he should be thinking about – you were his best friend, dammit, someone who kept insisting that friends were all you were. It was clear cut. Yet, that was all he had been thinking, and now dreaming, about ever since Hogsmeade. If he was being honest with himself, he had for years, he just had not allowed himself to acknowledge it. Minds are fickle things, what they conjure up after dark holds no merit. Yet his heart was the one getting increasingly involved, and that was harder to ignore.

Propping himself up on his elbow he looked towards his canopy as if it held an answer to his predicament. When all he was met with was silence, he shook his head as if it would knock out his thoughts, curls messily spilling into his vision.

It's nothing. It's stupid. Ignore it.

No matter how many times he told himself it was just a stupid dream, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your hand had rested on his shoulder, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your smile. The dream lingered just out of reach, but when he imagined himself grabbing at it, all he saw was you.

Bollocks.

"Oi, Reg!"

Regulus looked up to where Barty was sitting on his own bed, already tying his shoelaces and grinning at him through the green strands of hair falling into his eyes. "What's got you in a tizzy, mate? You look like someone hexed your pillow."

"It's not like you to be the last to wake up," Evan grumbled from behind him, working on buttoning his pants.

"And what a joy it is to wake up to the two of you," Regulus commented dryly before he wiped his hands harshly over his face, slinging his legs out to hit the ground.

"I'm glad you acknowledge it," Barty grinned. "Now, what'cha dream about?" There was a knowing gleam in his eyes that made Regulus roll his own.

"The match. Which I should be getting ready for."

It was gameday, Ravenclaw against Slytherin. A match that usually was considered in the bag, but the Ravenclaw team had truly been challenging everyone this year. Their beaters had grown aggressive and the other seeker was fast. It had been on his mind for the week leading up to it, so really, Regulus told himself, he wasn't really lying.

Nothing gets past Junior though.

"Cute deflection. Did you practise it in the mirror?" Barty asked smugly, continuing without waiting for a response. "We're more or less ready, we're just waiting for your dreamy arse."

"Glad to know you think my arse is dreamy," Regulus replied at the same time as Evan slapped Barty in the back of the head with his quidditch gloves.

"Ugh, you know what I mean!" Barty flopped back onto his bed, just as patient as always. "Hurry up now!"

Regulus had his strict morning routines to fall into, which he always thanked himself for when he woke up frazzled like this. He knew what steps to do when and how to speed up the process, allowing him to grasp onto a sense of control that always calmed his nerves.

Yet, you were still ravaging his mind.

What you were doing, who you were with. If you remembered to set aside time to meet up with him before the game, even though the two of you always did and you had never once forgotten. If he could get there – the stone wall outside the locker rooms – a bit earlier than you today to properly gather himself before he sees you.

If he would have the guts to kiss you.

That last thought he shook out of his head, trying to imagine it falling out of his ears and disappearing like a Healer once told him to when he divulged his struggles with intrusive thoughts. It usually helped, but did little for him today as the idea of kissing you kept falling back into the forefront of his mind. I can't, I can't, I can't.

I want to.

"You have that look on your face again." Barty once more cut into Regulus' mind's inner workings, gazing at him with interest from where his head was hanging upside down from the edge of his bed. Regulus was hurrying his way through his routine and barely spared him a glance, accustomed to his antics.

"What look?" He forced any hint of his emotional turmoil from his expression in preparation, as he began to pack his quidditch gear bag.

"I'm asking you," Barty drawled. "I already know, I'm just interested in if you know."

At the same time, Evan shot in from where he was waiting by the door. "You look like you're hoping someone is willing to go to Azkaban just to put you out of whatever misery you believe yourself to be in."

"Aren't you two cheery today?"

"Following your beautiful example, my boy." Barty grinned, moving to grab his bag as he could tell Regulus was almost ready. "Still can't believe we got up before you. I'm disappointed in you, for shame."

"Yeah, yeah," Regulus muttered. "You didn't have to get up yet, though, I always head off to the pitch before you."

Evan gave him a knowing look as the three of them moved towards the common room. "No, you always head off to meet with your good luck charm before the games."

"Tell our lovely Y/N that we say hi, by the way." Barty shot him another wide grin as he plopped down in an armchair by the exit. "We'll be focusing on the actual game plan."

Regulus chose to ignore the first part. "Your only game plan today is to keep those bloody Ravenclaw beaters off their brooms."

The groan that escaped Barty was entirely too loud and dramatic. "Salazar, they are annoying me."

"Then do something about it." Regulus gave him a pat on the shoulder as he began to move away, nodding to Evan who was sat too far away. "I'm off."

"Have fun with your girl!" Barty called as he exited, and he could barely hear him giggle to Evan about it before the door shut behind him.

Lovely silence. Regulus stood still and breathed it in for a second, but with Barty's voice out of his ears, it only gave ample space for yours to fill his head instead.

The walk to your usual meeting place felt like a practised choreography, his heart beating harder on the way up. Though you often laughed about how meeting outside is inconvenient, given the tendency for bad weather in Scotland, he was grateful for it today as he hoped the fresh air would clear his mind of you. Or at the very least, of kissing you.

It seemed that as much as you were an angel in his dreams, you were a bit devilish in reality, because when he turned the corner to your spot you were already there, leaning against the wall with that easy confidence you seemed to wear only in his presence, reading a book to pass the time.

"There's our seeker!" You greeted him with a hug and he fought back any panic in his face over your shoulder as he breathed you in, hands splayed delicately over your back.

"Good morning, love," he all but whispered back.

You pulled away from him all too quickly, leaning back against the wall with a mischievous smile that always seemed to undo him a little. "Ready to kick some Ravenclaw ass?"

Despite his hummingbird heart, the ease of being around you settled into his body at the sight of your smile, and it took him no effort to mirror it. "As ready as one can be."

"I mean, all you have to do is find a teeny-tiny golden sphere flying through the sky at high speeds. Easy, yeah?"

He loved when you were in your more sassy moods. He loved how you looked at him when you were. He loved–

"Super easy," he laughed. "That's why I always catch it."

You scoffed in place of saying well, duh and looked at him with mirth in your eyes. "Always?"

"Are you doubting me, amour?" If he didn't know better, Regulus would say your breath hitched at the nickname. Why would it, though, he calls you that all the time?

"Do I have any reason to?" you shot back, leaning a bit into him as if he would let you in on a secret.

"No, not when I have a pretty girl like you cheering me on in the stands." He said it breezily, feigning nonchalance, but studied your reaction intently. He revelled when he saw the faint pinch of your cheeks at that, indicating a blush, glad that he has some effect on you, too.

"Are you calling me your good luck charm, Black?" Regulus couldn't bite back the laugh at that.

"You know, Evan called you that earlier today as well."

You cocked a brow at him. "Really? Pray tell why?"

This time it was Regulus' turn to blush a little, and though he hoped you wouldn't notice, he also knew deep in his bones that you would. "Just him and Barty messing around as usual. They say hi by the way."

"I'll see them on the pitch in less than an hour," you laughed at your friends' antics. Any leftover tension in his shoulders eased out at the sound.

"You know how they are." Regulus' smile softened as he turned his body towards yours were it was leaned against the raw stone.

"Some causes are lost, indeed," you chortled. "Much like this game, of course, which Ravenclaw lost ages ago."

"That's the spirit of a true luck charm. Keep that up in the stands, yeah?"

"Of course. What can I say, I take my job very seriously."

When Regulus looked at you through his laughter, he knew you must be able to see every emotion flashing across his face. He could never hide, not from you. He let his eyes travel across your face, taking in every beautiful divot and crevice, fighting the urge to reach out and caress them with his fingers. What he could not fight, though, was his eyes flickering to your lips, memories of how they felt against his in his dream rushing through him once more. It would be so easy to reach forward and slot them with his, you were already standing closer than most people would. Even best friends like the two of you, and Gods, when Regulus thought that, he knew in his heart he did not just want to be best friends with you.

He almost did it, he swears he almost closed that gap – but then he looked up and met your eyes once more, saw the understanding, the confusion and the hesitation there, and he was knocked off course.

With a rough clearing of his throat, he broke the spell that had captured the two of you, even if just for a moment. "I should probably head off to meet with the team soon," he said, embarrassed at how raw his voice sounded.

You shook your head a little, clearing your own mind, and Regulus imagined thoughts falling from your ears. He desperately wanted to know what they were.

"No rest for the wicked?" you said with a smile, and he was almost jealous at how at ease you seemed.

"Not with the way Ravenclaw's been playing, no."

"You'll do great, Reg. As always." The softness of your voice did not go by him and his smile grew more genuine and assured.

"Thanks, amour. I'll look for you in the stands."

"And you'll find me there, probably surrounded by pestering friends and freezing my arse off." You all but giggled, and an idea formed in his head at impressive speed.

"Well, I can't have that," he laughed. Before he could think better of it, he opened his quidditch bag and pulled out his quidditch jersey. "Here, take this. It'll keep you warm for me."

His heart was hammering in his chest, but he managed to keep his hand steady as it held the Slytherin jersey between you. It was far from the first time you wore his clothes – though usually it would be classified more as stealing than just wearing – but he was aware that this type of hand-off held a different charge. The tradition of wearing your partner's jersey during their games was tried and true at Hogwarts. He could tell by the way your eyes flitted almost nervously from his jersey to his face, searching for an answer, that you felt the same way. By some miracle of courage, his resolve didn't falter.

At last, you put him out of his misery as you chuckled a little, taking the jumper from his hands, feeling the soft wool against your skin. "There'll be no confusing who I'm cheering on now," you said cheekily, turning the jersey over to where his name and number were printed in bold.

"Don't think there ever was any, to be honest," Regulus shrugged at you. "But if so, we have to set the record straight. What if Ravenclaw tries to steal you?"

"Can you imagine how much flack I'll get from your brother and his friends for wearing this?" you laughed, contradicting your own joking concern by beginning to pull it on over your own clothes.

Regulus furrowed his brows, unable to defeat the pang of insecurity in his chest. "If you're worried, you don't have to–"

"No, I want to. You gave it to me, it's mine now," you reassured him, holding your arms up in faux defence against him. Regulus let out a relieved laugh.

"Gonna have to go get a new extra one after this, I see."

"Clever boy."

He began backing away from you ever so slowly, face still turned towards yours with a smile. "I'll see you up there then?"

"Warm and toasty," you agreed, smiling brightly at him. "Break a leg."

Regulus stopped in his tracks, tilting his head at you, confused. "Why would you want me to break a leg?"

You shook your head at him with a smile. "You're such a pureblood. It means good luck."

"Ah, in that case, I'll break all my bones."

"Not what I meant!" you call after him, and just before he walks out of sight, he gives you a quick wink.

You're grateful that he is not around to see the flush that takes over your cheeks.

You're left reeling for several moments more than you're proud of. What just happened?

With your head still spinning, you headed off to the stands, feeling the weight of Regulus’ jersey on your shoulders like a warm reminder of that moment. Your fingers tugged at the edges of the jersey, trying to steady yourself, but every time you remembered the look in Regulus' eyes, the corner of his lips curving up just slightly as he handed it to you, your stomach flipped over itself. You had not allowed yourself to believe your feelings for him ran so deep, not until this moment, anyway.

Maybe you always knew, though, if you were being honest. Maybe you had always ignored it, because the alternative was terrifying.

Arriving at the stands, you spotted your friends instantly. Marlene waved you over, grinning, while James and Sirius were huddled close on each side of Remus, gesticulating wildly to each other about something. The latter looked prepared to be accidentally hit in the face any minute now. Peter was probably putting money on the match, judging by the low tones and suspicious glances he kept sending around. Lily and Mary were sharing a large Gryffindor scarf, leaning into each other for warmth.

“Oh, look who’s gracing us with her presence!” James shouted, dramatically clapping a hand to his heart as you arrived, while Remus, Mary and Lily each greeted you more quietly with soft smiles.

“And with a certain someone’s name on her back!” Marlene pointed out with a smirk, eyeing Regulus' jersey with devilish amusement.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could explain, Sirius zeroed in on it, eyes lighting up with mischief. “Is that my darling baby brother’s jersey?”

"He wouldn't like you calling him that," you said simply, taking your seat on the bench in front of the three boys and Marlene, painfully aware that it put the back of your jersey in their direct line of sight. Beside you sat Mary and Lily, whose smiles were warm but no less teasing.

"I'm not under the impression he much likes anything these days," Sirius huffed petulantly.

"Except you." Remus mumbled it so quietly you almost missed it, but you didn't. Neither did James and Marlene, if their snickers were anything to go off of.

"So," Marlene drawled, poking you slightly in the back. You have spent a decent chunk of time with her as of late through Dorcas, which unfortunately meant she had joined in on the teasing. "Is Regulus aware of you representing him loud and proud, or is this a bout of kleptomania we should be worried about?"

"You should always be worried, McKinnon. With shiny jewellery like yours, a confrontation with one of our household nifflers is bound to happen." You looked over your shoulder and smiled at her to show you mean no harm.

"You have household nifflers?" Mary asked curiously.

"Barty," chorused you, Marlene, Remus and Sirius with decreasing humour and increasing worry in that order. “And Pandora,” you added.

"And if you must know," you sighed while biting back a smile. "Regulus willingly gave me his jersey when I complained of the cold in the stands. You know these things are better adjusted to the climate." You waved the sleeve of the jersey slightly to demonstrate your point.

"Ah, what a true gentleman." Sirius' grin was bordering on wolfish. "I raised him right, I see."

Remus elbowed him, causing Sirius to dramatically fake a fall into Marlene. "You cannot teach what you don't know, dear Pads."

You smiled at how much more seamless your integration into the friend group felt, a true display of the work the Black brothers had put in. Though, you knew it would feel better if the younger of the two was here too.

At the thought, you turned your gaze towards the field, spying for a glimpse of your friends.

"Any thoughts on the game?" you asked absentmindedly to steer the conversation away.

"My only thought is that if those Ravenclaw beaters send even one bludger at Cas I will obliterate them next game." Marlene's words were laced with a malice you knew she was not scared to act on.

"Sentiment's shared," you all but whispered.

Sirius leaned forward – across poor Remus, mind you – to jostle your shoulders slightly. "Don't worry, bub, Reggie's the furthest away from action one can be."

"I'm not worried," you said simply, no reaction at practically being manhandled.

"I am!" Mary said then. "Quidditch's violent enough as is, we don't need Marlene and Sirius to have a vendetta for their next game."

"I've always found they play their best when they have a vendetta," James said through a sheepish smile. "Maybe some revenge-worthy offences would be helpful."

"Oi! You wishin' assault on my darling baby brother?"

With that, some more tussling occurred behind you, but you didn't deign to look around, just sighing through a smile. "Let me know if you need to escape to the front bench, Lupin," you threw over your shoulder.

"Don't mind if I do." His voice was already much closer to you as you saw the lanky boy scrambling into your right field of vision.

You turned to look at him half-incredulously, laughing when he wore what must be a mirrored expression. When he chuckled along with you, the lines around his eyes crinkled.

"Look at the in-laws cahooting together," Marlene cooed from beside Sirius and James, unaffected by their scuffle.

Remus' hand stretched over your shoulder towards Marlene in some gesture you couldn't see. Her gasp clued you in on what it was, though.

At last, you saw the small green figures walk out on the pitch, brooms in hand. You could barely make out Barty trying to climb onto Evan's shoulders, while Regulus and Dorcas were chatting, faces turned towards the stands.

You couldn't help the skip of your heart or the immediate grin that took over your face as you waved – as casually as possible, due to current company – to them both. Perhaps mostly the former, though.

Even from a distance, you could see how Regulus lit up, waving back at you in a more dramatic gesture than you would expect from him. At the same time, Marlene stood up behind you and wolf-whistled at Dorcas, waving at her with even more theatrics. The poor girl on the pitch turned her face away, whether to laugh or cringe you were unsure, before she gave a small wave back.

"You're really going for it, Marls," James commented happily.

"With more success than you've ever had, Jamie."

Suddenly Marlene was included in the squabble behind you.

On the pitch, the teams lined up in front of each other and mounted their brooms before flying into formation. Ravenclaw blue and Slytherin green decorated the otherwise grey skies adorning Hogwarts' landscapes today.

"Welcome to this most anticipated match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin!" Pandora's voice floated through the stadium, somehow still as elegant while booming. "A match where I must admit I am conflicted, my house versus my twin, but alas today is not about me."

Her light oddities brought a sense of familiar calmness through you as Pandora began to outline the scores so far in the season and what this match would mean. You wonder if that was why she was chosen as commentator.

When she introduced Slytherin's team, you beamed with pride, paying closer attention. "And of course we have the stoic Regulus Black, who is looking rather dashing in his green jersey, which the lovely Y/N has dutifully matched today it seems."

Just like that, calmness was replaced by a painful flush shooting across your face, both at the incredibly public comment and the immediate hoots and hollers and yeahs that exploded from behind you.

The unsuppressed giggle from Pandora revealed her intentions. Clearly, she's spent too much time with Barty, you decided.

"He is rather dashing, isn't he, Y/N?" James asked from behind you.

"If you spent more of your time complimenting Evans, maybe she'd actually go out with you," you said drily. To emphasise your point and feeling perhaps emboldened by the Gryffindor bravado that engulfed you, you looked at both Mary and Lily. "You two look beautiful today, by the way."

The girls smirked at you and you could hear James guffawing behind you.

Remus bumped his knee against yours with a sly smile. "I must say, you're fitting right in with your in-laws."

"Don't start," was all you offered, but your smile held more warmth after that. Remus held up his hands in a display of innocence, but his laugh betrayed any pretence.

The sound of the whistle alerted you all to the game being in motion.

Players zoomed across the field at speeds that would tighten any friend's heart, gracing you with some silence from those around you as everyone zeroed in on the game. Regulus flew around the pitch, keeping out of the way, but close enough to pay attention. You could tell how alert he was even from a distance, ready to twist after the snitch at any given moment, even before it came into play.

Pandora continued her commentary with her typical flights of fancy, describing the players’ movements like they were graceful choreographies and making odd analogies that half the stadium likely didn’t follow. “Ah, and Ravenclaw’s beater winds up to swing like a very determined house elf polishing silver. Look at that tenacity!”

Regulus looked so in his element out there, still his assertive, poised self, but with a decisive ruggedness about him. It almost made you want to play alongside him, to witness this version of him as well.

With the years you had found you wanted to see every version of Regulus.

Even with your distractedness by overwhelming emotion that just wouldn't stay away like you instructed it to, you saw the moment Regulus caught sight of the snitch. His body gave little reaction as to not give away that he had seen it, but the increased speed and determinism of his broom could not be mistaken.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of your seat, watching his every move. You could hear the exact moment James, Marlene and Sirius – in that order – recognised it as well.

"Come on, Reggie," Sirius whispered. You weren't sure if he knew he had said it.

With your eyes fixated on Regulus, you barely registered when the Ravenclaw team realised the snitch had been spotted. Their seeker hauled around, following Regulus, but she was too slow. Excitement built in your chest, victory within Regulus' reach. The small golden sphere was close to his broom now, enough that Regulus made to grasp at it, when another ball came into view, bigger and darker.

The bludger collided into Regulus' elbow. A second one immediately went for his head, which he was barely able to dodge, but it still made connection with his upper chest.

You jumped up from where you stood, a yell of fear and protest already making its way out of your lungs before you could think. A collective gasp went through the crowd before the stands erupted in boos at the clear foul.

In the skies, Regulus barely kept his balance on his broom before Dorcas was at his side, stabilising him. You could see him flinch when she accidentally grabbed at his hurt elbow. The whistle went off before any further developments in the game could occur. For a moment you thought it was due to Regulus' injury, before you caught sight of Barty and Evan engaged in mid-air fist-fights with the Ravenclaw beaters.

Good.

As Dorcas steered Regulus downwards to the Healer's station on the side of the pitch, underneath a makeshift rooftop, there were few thoughts that went through your head other than Regulus' name.

Regulus, Regulus, Regulus.

Which is the only explanation you had for why you ran out of the stands with no hesitation nor explanation.

You could barely hear Sirius and the others call after you, but you were already taking the stairs three at a time, making your way down to the pitch – making your way to the Healer's station. Your brain didn't turn on again before you saw Regulus, already sitting down beside the 7th year interns of Madam Pomfrey who were wrapping up his elbow.

His face was wrung up in a pained grimace, which he quickly tried to school away once he saw you, eyes widening. He waved the healers off with his good arm and stood up a bit wobbly as you ran up to him.

"Regulus," you breathed out as you stopped before him.

"Amour, I–" he started, but you cut him off as you grabbed at his chin to move his face around and look for pain or injury. You tugged his jersey down slightly to take a look at the purple bruising spreading beneath his collarbone.

"Those absolute fucking bastards," you murmured, fingers tracing lightly over the colouring that kept all of your attention.

Regulus brought his good hand up to your own chin, tilting it so that your eyes were on his once more, small smile hidden within his irises. "I'm alright," he whispered.

"No, you're beaten literally black and blue," you huffed.

"I'll be alright, though." His face aimed at being reassuring, but it was difficult through the pain. "I've been given pain potion, healing cream and they episkey’d my–"

"Those tossers broke your bones?!" you cut him off incredulously at the mention of the healing spell.

"You did tell me to break them before, did you not?" Regulus said teasingly. You realised his hand migrated from your chin to the side of your jaw when he brushed his thumb calmingly over it once.

You narrowed your gaze at him. "Not. What. I. Meant." You punctuated each word with a poke to the non-bruised side of his chest.

"I'm alright," he repeated softly. You still wanted him to say it one more time.

"Black!" The referee called and you both turned around, like a deer caught in headlights. "Will you be good to return to the game or do you need a reserve to take over?" Behind him, the Ravenclaw beaters and Barty and Evan had finally been separated and quickly patched up. You hope episkey was needed for those two as well.

"I'm good!" he called at the same time as you said "Reserve!" You whipped your face around to look at him incredulously.

"Regulus. You are injured."

"I'm patched up and there's just a few minutes left anyway. I'd go crazy if I didn't finish this game, amour." Regulus was so attentive when he reassured you, returning his hand to your face, massaging at the back of your neck.

"And what do you think would happen to me if you went back out? I'll go crazy." You felt almost childish as you said it, like a 5 year old stomping your foot, but you felt justified in it nonetheless.

"It'll be alright. I'll catch the snitch and come right back to you, yeah?"

He was already starting to pull away from you as he said it, to return to the pitch. It was only then you realised you had stood nearly flush against each other. Your hand shot out to grasp at the side of his jersey.

"Y/N–" Regulus started.

You cut him off with a kiss.

It was soft despite the tension in your body and your knuckles whitening from the strength of your grip on him. His lips were cold from flying, but responded to yours in an instant. It was brief in its sweetness, but sweet all the same.

You pulled away and took a step back immediately, hands dropping at each of your sides. Regulus stared at you dumbly.

"Was that– was that to keep me off the broom?" he asked carefully. You almost wanted to say yes from the possible willingness in his voice.

You just smiled at him. "It was for good luck. Since you clearly can't be trusted with my muggle idioms."

A slow grin spread across his face at the same time as the referee called his name more harshly. "Okay," he whispered, seemingly awestruck as he backed away from you for the second time that day. "Okay, I'll be back in a moment, promise," he said more loudly.

Behind him Dorcas was grinning at you over her shoulder as she walked away from the edge of the tent. You felt bad you hadn’t realised she was near, but it didn’t seem like it bothered her at the time, smug happiness evident in her features.

How Regulus was able to play with a bruised collarbone and a just-repaired elbow you had no idea. Yet you knew he had done worse, so it shouldn't surprise you even as it horrified you to no end. You remained in the Healer's tent, shielded from view in the stands, and chewing on the side of your thumb as you watched Regulus' every move in the sky. The beaters were still on him, but so were Barty and Evan, more incessant than ever. You all but flinched when Regulus reached out once more with his injured arm, and the sigh that took over your body when his gloved fingers closed around the snitch was nothing but pure relief.

The stadium burst into loud cheers and you could vaguely make out Pandora's melodic voice over the roar, but it all fell on deaf ears. Your eyes were locked with Regulus' from the moment the players neared the ground.

While worry still clenched in your heart, now that Regulus was officially safe, the shock of what you did was able to wash over you.

You kissed Regulus. He kissed you back. He smiled. He seemed okay with it. What the fuck? Your mind was going a mile a minute as you kept looking at him, recognising to the fullest extent how his tousled hair makes your heart spin, how you longed for his presence in your arms in every form of the word. It was both disorientating and oddly familiar to you. Natural. Right.

You swallowed it up as the players landed.

When their boots hit the pitch, Evan and Dorcas physically collided into a hug in a way that must have hurt, practically screaming in victory as they shook each other.

Likewise, Barty was on Regulus, but it seemed for a different reason. Mindful of his injuries, Barty lifted Regulus up by the waist, spinning him around twice while yelling something along the lines of "Took you bloody long enough!" before all but launching him towards the Healer's tent – towards you.

"Fucking finally!" Barty once more screeched cheerily behind him as Regulus used the momentum from Barty's manhandling to jog towards you. "Finally!" Then he turned around and joined Evan and Dorcas' howling.

Regulus smiled as he came up towards you and when you opened your arms for a hug, his hands went up to cup your face and he went straight for the kiss.

You melted against his body, holding one arm around his waist and another at the nape of his neck. This kiss was longer, deeper, in a way that made your stomach flip and toes curl. It felt real. It felt like it meant something.

"Sorry, I wanted to be the first to do it," Regulus mumbled against your lips. He pulled away slightly, body still flush against yours as he studied your face curiously. "I– You want this? You want me?"

"I've always wanted you, Reg," you whispered.

His eyes flitted between yours, your eyebrows, your lips, even your nose and the way it crinkled slightly. "Like this?" His voice was raw and honest, laying everything bare.

"Yeah," you laughed almost tearily. "Like this."

He smiled as he brought you in for another kiss before scattering them rapidly around your lips, your cheeks, your nose, crinkling it once more. You laughed against him and it felt perfectly right.

Regulus flinched a little when he tried to tighten his hold on you and his elbow collided with yours. You immediately sobered up.

"We're going to Pomfrey's," you declared, stroking a hand up and down his back consolingly. "Now."

"I just have to finish up with the team first–" He tried, but you cut him off.

"You won the game for the team, I think you've done enough." You smiled knowingly, but the sternness did not leave you. "We are going to get you properly patched up and receive in-depth instructions on how to deal with the injuries."

Regulus nodded, reluctance fading away. "Okay. I just have to let Sirius know I'm okay first."

You sighed, indulgence flickering through your eyes. "You're impossible."

"Got it from him."

"We'll check in with Sirius and then head off to the infirmary." You were mapping out the plan in your head and Regulus stared at you fondly. You cheekily added, "I can't very well kiss this better."

Regulus’s eyes softened, a warm glow flooding his gaze. His voice was quiet, tone raw. “Could you please try anyway?”

You shook your head fondly at him. Slowly, you brought him down for a lingering kiss, breathing him in.

Regulus was smiling against your lips when a wolf-whistle pierced your silence.

"Is the gig finally up then?" Sirius called.

You both turned your heads, still all up in each other's space to see Sirius strolling up to you, friends in tow. Marlene was guilty of the whistling and bore matching grins with Sirius, James and Remus.

Regulus looked down at you, almost as if to check if you're okay with it. Upon your indulgent smile, he turned back towards his brother and said, "Okay, fine, maybe we're in love!"

733 notes View Post

ohodie

1 year ago

I was wondering if you could write a needy Luke trying to get readers attention but the reader is just trying to read a book and he’s placing kiss on her face just trying to get her attention. I love your writing by the way 🫶🏽

yes captain 🫡

this is adorable i’m ON IT

1 note View Post

ohodie

1 year ago

congrats on ur followers!!! i love ur content sm and when u post it makes me super happy :)) good luck growing more in the future!!

STOP ILL START CRYING AGAIN <3

2 notes View Post

ohodie

2 years ago

“treacherous”

(any version) peter parker x reader

(rivals to lovers because that’s the best trope)

peter parker ends up being roped into coming to betty brants party, despite immensely disliking the person who urges him to come. the party sparks a strange realisation and challenges their previous thoughts and feelings towards one another.

warnings: straight people and guns and female pronouns and alcohol and swearing xx

“fuck off penis parker”

y/n turned her head away from her lab partner, dragging her hands across her face as she crossed her legs. peter rolled his eyes and rested his head in his hand. “whatever, it was just an idea,” he scoffed, scribbling something down in his note book. y/n furrowed her brows.

“are you fucking serious? a study on what causes ‘goth girls’ to become pot heads? that’s an obvious dig at me and i won’t stand for it”

“what do you suggest then, y/n?”

peter smirked, fiddling with his pencil as he looked up at y/n.

“maybe a study on what causes guys with tiny dicks to become nerdy virgins” y/n proposed, loudly closing her science book. “oh wait,” she continued. “i think we know the answer to that one already!”

peter parker folded his arms and leaned back into his chair. “you’re such an… interesting personality, y/n” he laughed as the bell rang.

the rest of the class quickly fled the scene, most uncomfortable by the two teenagers’ constant arguing. their shoes lightly tapped the ground, y/n seemingly faster than usual.

as she hurried to her locker, gwen stopped her. “you’re in a rush” she stated, leaning against the metal doors next to y/n as the other girl frantically put her books in her bag.

“i’ve got to do the groceries, make dinner and meet with the bank all within the next few hours so i can go to this stupid party you want me at, so i’m in a little bit of a rush i guess” y/n joked sarcastically, pushing a hand against her hair anxiously.

“i can help you out if you want?” gwen offered, walking away with y/n. y/n shook her head as she headed towards the subway with her friend. “honestly, it’s all good. it’ll only take me an hour or two anyways” she smiled, catching the eye of a familiar nerd waiting for the train to area.

y/n and gwen. turned to face peter. “are you coming to the party tonight?” gwen asked, leaning her head on y/n’s shoulder. peter pursed his lips in response. “i didn’t even know there was a party” he replied, turning off his phone. y/n chuckled, shaking her head. “that’s so… like you, peter” she chuckled as the subway arrived at their platform.

the three got into discussion as the doors opened, walking in and luckily finding seats. “are you still pissy about the goth-pothead comment?” peter asked, staring at the screen of his phone. y/n shook her head and arched his brows, turning to face peter. “i don’t give a flying fuck about that, i have the memory of a fish,” y/n replied.”i just liked teasing you” she smiled.

“you should come peter, it’s at betty brant’s house” gwen interrupted, hanging onto her school bag. peter chuckled, slightly shaking his head. “i’m not too sure about that one,” he replied. “parties have never really been my thing” gwen gasped and put her hand on her heart. “that’s so crazy! who could’ve known that the skater boy didn’t like parties” she joked playfully, holding onto the trains hand rail as it moved around.

“you should come, i’d love to see you as a drunken idiot” y/n smirked. peter gazed up at y/n, crossing his arms. “oh, i am not good at being drunk- i get all weird” peter muttered awkwardly, causing gwen and y/n to instantly light up. “you need to come now!” gwen laughed, covering her hand with her mouth. he shook his head, standing up. “i’ll think about it” he murmured reluctantly, slinging his bag over his shoulder at the sound of the train announcing his stop. “you better come, i wanna see you make an absolute fool of yourself” y/n teased, pushing peter lightly. peter looked back at y/n, pursing his lips and meekly waving goodbye to the two girls.

as he left, gwen turnt to y/n. “you know he’s into you, right?” she stated, taking peters old seat next to y/n. y/n chuckled sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “very funny, gwen” she responded. she nodded her head, nudging her shoulder a bit. “he’s got a thing for emo girls, even ones he supposedly hates” gwen affirmed, smiling.

“i don’t care anyways, i couldn’t like a jerk like that”

“are you sure? you flirt with him every chance you get”

“no! that’s just banter, don’t get it twisted” y/n scoffed, standing up for her stop. “i’m gonna go run some errands before the party, see you then” she smiled. gwen nodded, waving goodbye.

- - -

running from the bank to the grocery store back to her house was a rather tiring routine, but she had to do it to make sure her siblings were all tended for before she even thought about enjoying herself.

while she was walking to the bank, she felt a pair of eyes staring daggers into the back of her head, but as soon as she turned around she found absolutely nothing to be afraid of. this had been happening much more than usual, causing herself to become more cautious than usual.

getting ready for the party, she felt the same fear she felt at the bank, but it was more so about what gwen had said before. to soothe her nerves, she called her friend and put the phone of speaker as she did her makeup.

“we’re gonna get pete so drunk tonight, i wanna know what he was talking about on the train” gwen laughed, causing y/n to subconsciously smile. “i wonder if he’s a funny drunk or one of those depressing ones with no filter” y/n responded, grabbing her keys and walking out of her bedroom.

she put her hand over the speaker of the phone and shouted out to her siblings. “i’ll be back in a few hours, call me if you need anything” she announced, heading out of the house as her siblings all said their goodbyes.

hopefully the night wouldn’t end in disaster.

- - -

“bottoms up!” gwen shouted, already hammered 50 minutes into the party. y/n, gwen and peter were all sat in betty’s spacious bathroom, close together with a bottle of vodka and a carton of apple juice. the three teens took their respective shots, each at different stages of drunkenness.

y/n sat back into the coldness of the empty bathtub with a bottle of beer in her right hand and a shot glass in the other. “i feel like my body doesn’t align with my brain” she cried dramatically. gwen turned to her friend, leaning against the cabinet underneath the sink. “how so babe?” she replied, popping every other letter she spoke. peter’s eyes moved over to y/n intrigued by her sentiment.

“i just feel like my boobs should be bigger!” she sulked, sitting up to face gwen and peter. gwen sympathetically arched her brows, cradling the vodka bottle. “no! you have great boobs…” she slurred as peter turned beetroot red and turned away from y/n, leaning against the bathroom wall.

“but what if i want double d’s??!!” she exclaimed, leaning back. peter leaned his head to the side. “for the record, i think your boobs are nice” he stated, clearly out of it. y/n and gwen were both taken back by this sudden comment. “uhhh, thanks?!” y/n stuttered, covering her face in embarrassment. “don’t think too much about it, weirdo” peter defended himself, “maybe if you weren’t such an emo you’d like them more”

gwen suddenly jolted up, as if something clicked. “y/n you’re right, he doesn’t have a filter when he’s drunk!” she smiled, turning to peter. y/n’s eyes lit up, mouth opening slightly. “i’d like to think i’m a very well held together drunk person” peter nodded his head, assuring himself. y/n shook her head, leaning over to pat peters shoulder. “i literally don’t understand a single word you said”

“well, this newfound information deserves a game of truth or truth” gwen suggested, taking another shot. peter refused at first, but he didn’t really have a choice in the matter anyways.

“peter, truth or truth?” gwen asked. peter took a while to think, tapping his chin. “i think i’ll take a wildcard here and say… truth” he reposed. “since when we’re you so observant of y/n’s boobs?” she asked, causing y/n to object. “that’s a weird question-“ she was cut off by peter answering almost instantly. “i am a very observant person, i see things” he justified, slurring his words. “but” he continued, “y/n is a pretty girl, despite her rude comments and scary makeup so i’m obviously gonna notice her nice boobs”

y/n tried to form a sentence but all could come out was a confused “thank you??”

after a few beats of time, she straightened her back and peeked over at peter. “someone wants to get into my pants” she sneered. peter threw up his hands defensively. “hey, no way! gross…” he muttered. “i’m just telling the truth, you’re the one making it weird”

gwen nodded her head in satisfaction. “okay, now you ask someone” she insisted, passing the bottle to peter. “okay, gwen… truth or truth?” he asked, taking a swift and instantly regretting it as the taste hit his mouth. “truth” she replied, curling her knees towards her chest. “what’s the weirdest secret you know about anyone at this party?” peter questioned. gwen took a few moments to think of something.

“betty is screwing the camera dude for her little morning announcements” she nonchalantly replied, shrugging her shoulders. y/n gasped. pulling at her hair slightly. “i called it!” she shouted.

the game continued, the questions getting weirder and more provocative as time went on.

“y/n, truth or truth?” betty asked, crossing her arms confidently. “truth” she replied.

“who’s the most fuckable person at school?” she smiled like a drunken sailor. y/n didn’t hesitate one bit, absolutely smashed. “peter” she whispered loudly, pointing at the boy who was now sat next to her in the bathtub.

peter’s eyes widened, frozen in place. “what?! why me?” he asked, chocking on his words. gwen gasped, grasping at the torso of her dress in shock. “you’re tall and you’re secretly ripped… and you’re awkward and nice but not to me which i find a little attractive” she muttered. “you’re a major dick with a terrible attitude- but i feel like if i was to do anything with anyone you’d be the nicest” she stated as her eyes fluttered.

peter was at an utter loss for words. “are you two into each other and just decided not to tell me?” gwen, cried, smiling as she laid back. “i don’t like peter, i just find myself being very, extremely attracted to him” y/n, bit the inside of her mouth. “despite his obvious and unavoidable flaws, of course” she continued. peter stared at her in shock, pushing his hair back. “honestly, i agree” he interjected. “i find myself thinking about y/n a lot, but i don’t like her” he said.

“that’s literally the definition of liking each other” gwen affirmed, drinking the last bit from the bottle. “i need to get more!” she shouted, standing up. “get something fruity” y/n pleaded, reaching out. “sure” gwen agreed. leaving the room.

moments passed, and quickly y/n moved towards peter. “do i like you, penis parker?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder. “how am i supposed to answer that question” peter laughed, leaning into the movement.

“kiss me so i know if i like you” y/n demanded, jolting up and facing peter.

their faces were mere centimetres apart, they could feel the warmth of each others bodies.

“are you sure?” he asked, moving in a little closer.

“yes i’m sure, don’t be a pussy” she responded, placing her hands on peters shoulders.

suddenly, their lips made contact as their bodies intertwined. peter put his hands in her waist as he leaned further into the kiss.

the expression turned more passionate, but before they could continue the door opened suddenly.

“can you guys leave? it’s 2 am!” betty demanded, holding a trash bag filled with empty bottles and plastic cups.

the two jolted off each other, startled by her sudden entrance. “oh, shit-“ she clenched her teeth as she realised what the two were doing. “sorry, you’ve got 30 minutes to wrap… that… up” she hesitantly remarked as she walked backwards out of the doorframe and closed the door.

the two sat in silence for a few seconds.

“i can’t tell if that was a good idea or not” peter sighed, sinking into the floor of the bathtub. y/n closed her eyes. “i’m so confused” she muttered, covering her face. peter turned towards y/n again and moved the hands from her face before leaning into kiss her again. y/n returned the gesture, pulling herself into him.

“guys betty brant is kicking us out-“ gwen announced as she opened the door, her eyes widening at the sight in front of her “HOLY SHIT!” she shouted, gasping loudly. the two pushed off of each other again, moving to separate sides of the bathtub.

“umm… it’s not what it looks like?” y/n said, not even sounding convincing enough for herself. “no, it definitely is what it looks like” gwen nodded leaning over to let out an exhausted laugh. “i fucking called it!” she cheered, parading out of the bathroom.

y/n stood up, gesturing her hand out to peter so he could follow. “i should probably get an uber” she stated, stepping out of the bathtub as peter took her hand. he followed and nodded slightly. “me too to be honest, i don’t think i can drive” he laughed, stumbling a little.

the two exited out the bathroom and awkwardly walked outside the house together.

the cold air hit y/n’s face as she stared at her phone screen, waiting for her uber to arrive so she could get out of this awkward tension.

“do you wanna talk about what happened?” peter started, looking over at y/n. she looked back, noticing the large distance between the two. “no-yes, no??” she responded, putting her phone in her jacket pocket. “i’m gonna sleep on it, if that’s okay” she finally replied cohesively, fidgeting with her hands. peter nodded, hiding his hands in his jean pockets.

the uber pulled up to the sidewalk, announcing that the uber was for y/n. she took a step forward towards it before peter grabbed her hand and pulled her into one last kiss, sinking into the moment. y/n clinched onto him as if they’d never speak again, holding him closely.

she pulled away a few seconds later, taking a step backwards. “uh, i’ll see you later penis parker” she remarked, stepping inside of the car. peter waved as the car started and drive off with the girl he was snogging a few moments before. he took a deep breath in, holding his face. “what the fuck…” he muttered.

- - -

it had been more than 24 hours since the party and there was complete radio silence between both parties. peter was hunched over in his bed, staring at his phone as he yearned for a text from y/n ti meet up or something. it was already sunday night and they were supposed to sit next to each other for the first two periods in the morning.

to take his mind off the stress he was feeling, peter put on his suit and climbed out of his bedroom window.

he swung around the streets of queens for a few good minutes, taking in the cold air as it collapsed against the fabric of his suit. he wound up on the rooftop of the tallest building in sight, staring over the city streets. his eyes traced over every movement he could see, swinging his legs over the end of the building.

in the corner of his eye, he could see two figures standing in an alleyway nearby. suspicious of the situation, he cautiously swung closer to navigate the situation better.

“hand over the money, i know you have it” a booming voice announced from the distance, instantly alarming peter. moving closer, he could see that the figure responsible for the voice had a handgun pressed against the second figure.

quickly, peter swung towards the alleyway and dropped right behind the armed man. he punched him down almost instinctively and pressed the front of his body against the cold floor. “what do you think you’re doing, threatening people this late at night?” he asked, webbing the gun to the ground and holding the man’s hands behind his back. “the fuck?!” he shouted, muffled by his face smashed against the concrete. peter webbed his hands in place and stuck him to the ground before standing up and looking at the other figure.

he instantly recognised the girl in front of him, chocking out of pure shock and somewhat rage.

y/n?

“attacking a teenager? not cool, man” he sighed, quickly contacting the authorities and standing by y/n. she had tears in her eyes and was shaking harder than anyone peter had ever seen anyone shake before. “are you okay ms?” he asked, holding into her shoulders. she shook her head, sobbing quietly. “i’ll get you out of here” he stated, grabbing onto y/n and webbing the man to the floor once again, just in case.

he swung the two back the the top of the building as her tears wet the torso of peter’s suit. it took everything in her power to not kiss her again and hold onto her as tightly as possible.

he set her down, rubbing her back softly. “do you mind telling me what happened?” he asked, crouching down to her level as she sat on the floor of the building. she nodded, sobbing a little quieter.

“that- that was some weird stalk-stalker” she cried, trying to explain herself. “he was following me around all week because- because i’ve been going to th-the banks”

peter nodded slowly, trying not to rush her. “i think he though i had money… but i definitely don’t have- like any…” she sighed, drying her eyes. she bit the inside of her mouth. calming down a little. “you don’t need to worry about him anymore, he’s going to jail for a very long time” he reassured her.

soon enough, y/n started talking to the masked superhero about her week. “i’ve been having a lot of financial issues, and boy issues, and like… issues” she stated, laughing a little bit. peter’s ears pricked up. “boy issues?” he asked, instantly regretting it. so unprofessional he thought, internally judging himself. “oh yeah,” she laughed. “i don’t think you’d wanna hear about that, you’re a whole ass superhero” she smiled, shaking her head.

“i’m all ears” he reassured her, crossing his arms.

“well… there’s this boy who i used to really super dislike but we got drunk- like shitfaced drunk, and we kissed like three times and i liked all the times…” she frowned, covering her face. “but i’ve been busy so i accidentally ghosted him- but he’s been ghosting me too!” she argued with herself, perusing her lips. peter instantly filled with regret.

“it sounds like you two really like each other, maybe just be truthful to how you feel” peter suggested, fiddling with his hands. y/n nodded. “that’s probably a good idea” she agreed, standing up. “and stay away from banks for a while” he laughed, patting her in the back.

peter swung y/n home, making sure she was safe before heading back towards his bedroom for the night.

“what the fuck…” he muttered, collapsing into his bed.

im probably gonna do a part two cause im a little nerd xx

also i refuse to edit any of this so sorry if there’s mistakes lol

happy days 🫶

Tags

peter parker peter parker x reader peter x reader tom holland mcu mcu x reader tom holland x reader andrew garfield andrew garfield x reader Peter peter parker x y/n peter parker x you peter parker rivals to lovers peter parker x reader enemies to lovers peter parker enemies to lovers peter parker x reader rivals to lovers

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ohodie

2 years ago

thomas thorne is so baby girl

Tags

bbc ghosts thomas thorne

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ohodie

1 year ago

bbc ghosts and empathy

at its core, bbc ghosts is a show about empathy! these days, a lot of shows are black and white when it comes to characterisation- always having them lean towards good and evil. but this is boring as fuck!

bcc ghosts does the exact opposite by having characters such as julian, who by all means, was a terrible person. he was a tory with no respect for his wife or his daughter. by all means, we as the audience, should HATE him. but we don’t! infant, we love him. he’s funny and witty and comedic.

even before he grew to regret his past actions, we still loved him as a character because of how hilarious and authentic he is. after the christmas episode where he was looking after a baby, the audience was able to fall in love with julian all over again and for a different reason! even when we were shown explicitly the terrible traits julian exhibited while alive, we felt empathy for his situation. we do deeply felt his regrets.

most of the time, tories and bad fathers are the villains. and for the most part, it’s true. this doesn’t stunt their growth as people. we always forget that people we don’t agree with are people; capable of growth and fear and guilt.

in real life, this conversation is a lot different. realistically, someone like julian being in power is probably not a good idea. he was like besties with margaret thatcher.

either way, bbc ghosts has taught me a lot about recognising my biased behaviour towards people i would usually condemn. i find it so crazy that this show was able to make me empathise with such a person- but i’m very grateful for it. live laugh julian

Tags

ghosts bbc ghosts julian ghosts

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ohodie

1 year ago

tweets with pjo characters (iv.)

content summary: same deal as last time idk. persassy, grover being a cutie pie, reader fighting for their life, percy and luke beef, chris being a himbo!

note: gonna have to make a masterlist for these lmfaoooo. finally finished exams guys new semester starts next, week, my free time is clears i'm so back. also charlie bushnell is so so pretty i could stare at him for days let's talk about it.

part one / part two / part three