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too-deviant · 2 months

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jackie and wilson.

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pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry.

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context.

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast.

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them.

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.”

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?”

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea.

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?”

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.”

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit.

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.”

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.”

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut.

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.”

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you.

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much.

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you.

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands.

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?”

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed.

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.”

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted.

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill.

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage.

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke.

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love.

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face.

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?”

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no.

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball.

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow.

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know.

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you.

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?”

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.”

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve.

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average.

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help.

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course.

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly.

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?”

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side.

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.”

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.”

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front.

He stopped laughing. You started laughing.

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?”

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath.

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come.

“Hey!”

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips.

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.”

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter.

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?”

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn.

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure.

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t.

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging.

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?”

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness.

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure.

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.”

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.”

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!”

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them?

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.”

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did.

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.”

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!”

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?”

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.”

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.”

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

____________

“What’d you do to him?”

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?”

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?”

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment.

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?”

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly.

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.”

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #i am a hoe for loser!luke #i also know nothing about baseball #hence the very brief baseball scene #its just like rounders im pretty sure #but im not too confident on that #also reader maybe gets claimed in the next part #wink wink

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sturncrazy · 5 months

Text

SPLASH

Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

warnings: SMUT nsfw 18+(um lang, y/n receiving, unprotected, cream pie —assume ur on bc—-semi public/sneaky, nothing too crazy)

authors note: AW ITS KINDA CUTE GUYS. here’s the other matty poo idea i had since y’all seem to eat him up always hehe.

summary: you join some of your friends on a trip to get over a breakup and end up having a heart to heart talk during a late night swim with matt….but talkings not all you end up doing…

word count: 3,431w

—————————————————————————

“hey y/n get your suit on! we’re gonna swim!” nick said, peering in through your half opened door.

“mkay” you nodded back, forcing a smile. it’d been a split second decision to force yourself to join your friends on this trip. Nick had suggested you come to try and get your mind off of things. you and your boyfriend had broken up only 2 weeks ago, after you found him cheating on you. it’d been a long time coming and had almost never been a good relationship, but a breakup is a breakup and you were still reeling from it. you pulled out a stringy bikini, then threw an oversized t shirt on top. the house you were staying at was large and out in the middle of nowhere. the pool was a significant distance behind the house which gave it a cool secluded feel during the day, but at night the walk alone was a little eerie. you fears washed away though as you got close enough to see your friends splashing around and their laughter became audible, only lit by the purple pools lights. it brought a smile to your face and you felt genuinely happy for the first time in a while. you and your friends hung around together for a couple hours, getting late into the night when chris decided he was hungry and needed a snack. the nearest convenience store was about 20 minutes away and would be closing soon so chris and the 3 of others decided to do a junk food run, leaving just you and matt. matt had been your friend since 7th grade, but the two of you hadn’t gotten to hang out as much in the last year cause he made your ex so nervous. he was always convinced you had feelings for matt. at one point he might’ve not been wrong, but you’d never tell a soul that.

“ok last chance guys! you want anything?” nick shouted as the others ran back towards the house.

“skittles!” said matt

“oo can you get me some twizzlers?”

“yup!” nick said running off

“think he listened?” matt said wading through the water to the edge where you were sitting, dangling your feet in.

“oh definitely not” you laughed

“you should come in the water! it’s really warm”

“but then when i get back out i’ll be cold” the outside air had dropped enough to feel the slightest of chill of fall.

“so? you can borrow my sweater if you want” said matt sweetly, always a gentleman

“come on! have some fun!” he teased splashing only enough to spray a few droplets on your thighs. you could never say no to him. you stood up and pulled your tshirt over your head. matt looked up at you, his mouth slightly ajar, before he quickly glanced away. you figured he’d zoned out. you cannonballed in, intentionally hitting matt with a wave of water.

“asshole” he laughed, splashing you as you came back up for air. you grinned at him and shook the wet hair out of your eyes and paddled to sit on the pools steps. matt joined and sat next to you. he leaned his arms against the the pools edge, the water only coming up to his mid stomach. you stole a glance at his toned torso and arms, tattoos glistening from the water. his eyes darted back to yours and he gave you a half smile.

“hey, you been okay? i didn’t wanna pry, but i head about the breakup” he said with concern

“oh…yeah. i’m okay i guess” you sighed

“he’s a real dick, y/n. i mean really. such an asshole. i wanted to kill him” you snorted

“you and me both” matt was on a roll in his rant and barely seemed to notice your comment

“i mean he has some fucking nerve treating you like that. you deserve like the best of the best and the fact that he didn’t didn’t see that—“

“aww matt” a warm fuzzy feeling spread over your skin at his words. he snapped back into remembering your presence and gave you a bashful look.

“i just think you deserve someone who treats you right. so good riddance to him” he said, splashing at an invisible presence off in the distance, trying to play cool. it was an adorably dorky move.

“thank you, matty” you said softly. he paused, and looked you intensely in the eyes.

“yeah always” he breathed out. the tension hung thickly in the night air. you turned your face away from his, hoping it would dissipate.

“and not that it matters, but i remember back in middle school when everyone was playing truth or dare, all the girls made fun of him for being a bad kisser” matt said, attempting to lighten the mood. it worked and you let out a laugh.

“yeah trust me, kissing wasn’t the only thing he was bad at”

“oooooo really” matt said grimacing. you nodded and dramatically shivered at the thought.

“yeah, honestly, don’t think there was a single time i wasn’t on top doing all the work. he’d sorta just lie there…like a corpse. and y’know…second he was done that was that. maybe 2 minutes each time.” matt’s jaw dropped

“whaaaat” you laughed as you glanced at your hands under the water, feeling nervous about talking about this with matt.

“that’s crazy. half the fun of sex watching the other person enjoy it” you felt your face flush as you raised your eyebrows at him

“what?” he chuckled back at your surprise

“nothing, i’ve just never heard you talk like that before” matt rolled his eyes playfully

“yeah well much to your surprise i have had sex before, y/n”

“well i know that…”

“just didn’t think i’d be good at it” he cut you off, teasingly. your face turned from flush to beat red, making you thankful for the dim lighting.

“hey, i wouldn’t be one to judge” you shrugged out, suddenly feeling painfully aware of your lack in experience.

“what do you mean?” matt questioned

“just…he was the only person i ever…y’know” you sheepishly avoided the words.

“had sex with?” matt filled in for you. you nodded and scrunched your face. he studied you for a minute.

“so you’ve never had good sex?” he asked, quietly. you felt so exposed you might as well have been naked.

“‘guess not” you mumbled avoiding is unwavering gaze.

“have to wait around for the next boy” you snickered to yourself

“isn’t that a bit of a gamble?”

“well what are my other options i mean youre the only guy i know who probably any good at sex—“ matt’s eyes widened. you slapped your hand over your mouth, panic beginning to settle in.

“oh my god—sorry—i—that came out wrong—i didn’t mean like you and me—like you need to show me—shit” matt just continued to look at you, his eyes burning holes into your skull. you buried your face in your pruning hands.

“well, why not” matt rasped out. you peaked through your fingers at him, his expression looked blank, but his chest rose rapidly, nervously. you dropped you hands.

“what” you almost whispered. he took a steadying breath.

“i said why not.” you tried to breath, but no air seemed to be available.

“what do you mean” matt gnawed at his lip before speaking again.

“i mean that you deserve to only feel amazing and i don’t want you to go around experimenting with more assholes and—“

“matt, i’m not gonna let you have pity sex with me” you scoffed out, embarrassment itching your whole body.

“that’s not what i meant y/n” he said in a hushed voice. you continued to babble over him.

“i mean i know you’re the nicest guy ever, but come on even you have to know you don’t have to fuck me to protect me from other bad guys—“

“i dont want you to fuck other guys at all” he sounded exasperated. you gave him a lost look. he exhaled, looking up at the sky for invisible answers.

“you don’t?” he looked back into your eyes, you felt like your heart could melt.

“of course not, y/n” your heart raced.

“okay” he furrowed his brow

“okay what?”

“okay yeah— i mean let’s—“ you inhaled, pulling yourself together and met his gazed

“i want you to show me” his chest rattled again.

“yeah?” he breathed out. you nodded, rapidly. he moved closer to you, your faces now inches apart. his eyes darted down to your lips. he smiled, and looked back up into yours, as one hand gently wrapped around your waist.

“okay” he rasped out as he brushed his nose against yours. he seemed to revel in the tension between you, before bringing his soft warm lips against yours. the kiss was passionate, but still delicate. it sent electricity through your chest and down to your fingertips. he brought his other hand up to your check and jaw, molding your faces together even more. matt pulledl his lips away from yours momentarily to whisper out

“you can touch me, y/n” you only then realized your arms had been cluelessly frozen by your sides. you eagerly brought them up around matt’s neck, immediately changing the tone of the kissing to something much more heated. he let out a sharp breath into your mouth before moving to come between your legs, both hands now grasping your waist. he pulled you closer and you wrapped your legs around his body, gripping into his hair. he let out a small groan against your lips and squeezed at your flesh in his hands. you sighed out at the feeling, opening your mouth against his which he took as an opportunity to slip his tongue against yours. your mouths locked together perfectly, as your hands begin to move from his hair to explore his chest, your fingertips roaming the skin of his body you’d only ever dreamed of getting to touch. you lowered your nails to just beneath his bellybutton, which elicited a genuine moan from him. you smiled against his mouth

“where did you learn that” he grumbled

“i have have a couple tricks” you said coly

“oh yeah?” he said between soft quick kisses

“so do i” he bit down lightly on your bottom lip, pulling with his teeth as he brought your hips up against his. you whined feeling him press against your bikini bottoms. he chuckled at your pathetic reaction and pushed your hair back from your neck. he lowered his lips down to the sensitive newly exposed skin and began to sloppily kiss a trail from your jaw to your collarbone, then began sucking and biting at your flesh.

“fuck” you moaned out, your eyes rolling back. you grasped at his taught upper arms.

“you like that?” he groaned against your skin, setting it ablaze with vibrations.

“yes” you sighed out, bucking your hips slightly against his, desperate for more than just the grazing pressure of him standing against you. he seemed to understand your every need and hooked his fingers through the flimsy ties of your bikini and pulled you harshly against him. you felt a hardness in his shorts pressing against your core and your mouth practically watered. his hands trailed back up your body and to your back where your top tied together.

“this okay” you nodded and pulled him back in against your mouth, not wanting to waste a moment for words away from his lips. he expertly untied the knots and slipped the clinging wet fabric of your chest, leaving your boobs exposed to the outside air. he tossed the fabric on the ground behind you as he looked down at your heaving chest.

“god” he groaned out, his eyes widening as he brought his hands to your boobs and pawed at the the soft flesh. he ran his thumbs delicately across your nipples watching you, as you tossed your head back in a moan. he slipped his hands behind your back again, bringing your bare skin flush against his

“you’re so beautiful” he huffed against your lips. you began to rock yourself back and forth against his blatantly obvious hard on, desperate to build some friction. he wrapped one arm around your thigh and lifted you up to the top dry step of the pool, completely taking you out of the water except for your calves. matt lowered himself down to his knees a few steps bellow you, and began to kiss your knees and inner thighs. your legs quivered, as your core ached for attention. his wide blue eyes looked up at you, his mouth only inches away from where you needed him most, as his fingers hooked to the sides of your swimsuit.

“can i?” he mumbled against your skin.

“please” you whined out. he pulled at the loose bows, undoing the flimsy cover easily. you lifted your hips for him to slide the fabric from between your legs. he parted your legs with his hands, his pupils dilating to blackness as he took in the sight of you entirely exposed.

“so perfect” he sighed almost in a trance

“matt—“ you whined desperate and impatient. he looked back up at you with a half smile

“don’t worry baby, i’m gonna make you feel so good” his words alone could’ve made you come undone. he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he brought his warm wet mouth against your aching clit. he gently kissed at the bundle of nerves, making you thrust your hips up against his face hungry for more. he responded by beginning to drag his tongue in painfully slow circles around your clit.

“oh god—matt-“ you cried out, your fingers latching into his hair for support. he groaned against your sensitive bud.

“y’taste so good” your thighs squeezed his face as he began to move his tongue faster, flicking it it circles around your clit.

“oh fuck— that feels so good—“ you exhaled. one of his arms loosed it’s grip

as he brought his fingertips down to meet your folds. he broke his tongue away from your clit and rested his scruffy cheek against your inner thigh as his watched his own fingers drag up and down your dripping folds. you whined in torture and he brought his pointer and middle finger to your entrance pressing small torturous pulses against it, but not entering or giving you the fullness you needed. you were a mess at his touch, whining, moaning, and thrashing around, but he seemed to savor every minute of watching you. finally, he slipped his finger into your core and you cried out at the feeling.

“so pretty” he whispered again before starting to pump his digits in and out of you over and over, his fingers curving up expertly. the tension in your stomach began to form almost immediately. matt needed no clues in knowing what you needed and lowered his tongue back to your clit. your walls began to pulse around his fingers. you knew you were close.

“oh god—matt-i—“ you began to stutter out

“good girl. cum for me” he cooed. you fell apart with his permission and came undone. your legs stuttered as your high began to end and matt slipped his fingers out of you. he lifted himself back up to your level, leaning against the ledge behind you and kissing you again.

“see how good you taste” he said against your lips

“matt” you giggled slightly shocked against him, starting to close your legs. his grip latched back down on your thighs, stopping you.

“oh i’m not done with you yet” he growled through a slight smile, as he hoisted you up into the air. your wrapped your legs around him, as he carried you away from the pool to a nearby lounge chair. he laid you down on your back and climbed on top of you, between your legs. he pressed his still covered crotch against your exposed vulnerable entrance. you hissed, still sensitive from your recent orgasm. he stopped and pulled back from you

“you okay?”

“yes just sensitive” you let out a breathy laugh

“do you want to stop” the overwhelming look of concern in his eyes was adorable

“are you kidding me?” you said, wrapping your legs around him tightly, bringing him back down on top of you.

“thank god” he exhaled. you laughed as you began to kiss him again, rolling your hips up against him. he whimpered. you dragged your fingernails up his back and dug in slightly at his shoulders. he groaned again. the sound of him wanting you was enough to make you desperate all over. you continued to run your fingernails down his chest and to his waistband, snapping the elastic against his skin slightly. his stomach tensing at the feeling.

“take these off, matty” you whined.

“whatever you want” he pulled off from you and stood to the side, sliding off the shorts.

his rock hard dick sprung out free from the fabric and slapped against his stomach. your jaw opened slightly as your eyes took in the impressive size of him in front of you.

“what?” he chuckled

“youre so big” you said in genuine awe

“fuck you don’t know what you’re doing to me” he said, climbing back on top of you and needily yanking your legs up around him. the tip of his hard member rubbed against your clit as he continued to grind his hips against yours through your makeout.

“matt—“ you whined again, needing more.

“you sure you want to do this?” he asked looking into your eyes.

“yes matt—i want you so bad” you moaned to him

“fuck i’m all yours, baby” he said kissing you again, as he began to align himself with your entrance. he pushed himself inside you slowly and shuddered against you once he was all the way deep into your core. he paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the extreme stretch before beginning to slowly thrust in and out and in and out of your pussy. the stretch and fullness of him made you cry out sounds like you’d never made before.

“fuck you feel so good. such a perfect tight little pussy” he huffed out between his calculated thrusts.

“oh god matt”

“taking me so well baby” he cooed

“shitt-feel so good inside me, matty”

“yeah? you like when i fuck you like this, huh baby?” he breathed against your ear, burying his head into your neck.

“so fucking much—oh god yes—faster”

“okay beautiful” he began to pick up the pace of his steady thrusts and you thought you’d see stars. each thrust of his dick equally hard and timed out as he slammed against your g spot. you clawed at his back desperately, which only seemed to encourage him to pick up his pace to an impossibly faster speed. you slurred out curses in between pornographic moans as your mind became a total blur. you could feel your second orgasm approaching.

“OHHH FUCK MATT YES”

“fuck you sound so good moaning my name like that y/n”

“MATT OH GOD IM GONNA”

“you gonna cum for me again, baby?”

“YES OH MY FUCK”

“be a good girl and cum all over my dick” your eyes blurred with tears of pleasure as your ears buzzed and your second orgasm took control of your body. matt let out an uneven moan as your walls rapidly pulsed around his cock.

“fuck—squeezing me so good—shit—i’m close—“

“mmmm” was all you managed to moan in response as he began to trust into you wildly and unsteadyily

“oh my fuck baby i’m gonna cum”

“cum matt—i wanna feel you cum” you panted

“OHH MY OH FUCK FUCK IM GONNA CUM NGHH IM CUMMING” the groaned out as he halted his thrusts deep inside you, shooting hot white ropes of his release into your throbbing core. he collapsed breathless on top of you. after a moment matt pulled himself off your chest and propped himself up by his forearms.

“have any fun?” he asked sheepishly

“are you KIDDING ME? holy SHIT” you said in total honestly

“not half bad right?” he laughed, reaching for his shorts.

“unreal” he handed you his sweater and leaned back down to kiss you again, but pulled away abruptly

“sorry—was that weird? i don’t wanna make you feel pressured—“ you wrapped your arms around his neck shutting him up with another kiss

“good luck if you think your getting away from me now”

“i wouldn’t dream of it”

—————————————————————————live for sweet matt smut always 🫶

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sciderman · 3 days

Note

Sorry if someone else already asked this but out of the Deadpools in any animated adaption which one is your favorite?

fortnite

okay kidding, i've never played fortnite but i love watching him do the dances. i'll rate all of the animated deadpools i guess. all the animated deadpools that i know of.

hulk vs wolverine

5/10 i think this might be the first animated deadpool i'd ever seen. and he's okay. i don't like nolan north's voice, really. i know a lot of people love him. i think his voice is pretty plain jane and his delivery is nothing special. mind you this wade doesn't have a lot of funny things to say anyway. this whole film is so very mid and so forgettable. marvel animation generally is really mid and forgettable. also he's such a scrawny little twink. i like my wades beefier. 5/10 for being one of the most ordinary, inoffensive, mid portrayals of deadpool ever.

deadpool (the game)

3/10 yeah i don't know, i hate this guy. nolan north yet again but his voice is slightly less plain jane and more rocket raccoon here. not into it. this game sprouted all the worst interpretations of deadpool ever and for that it must pay dearly. three stars because at least his tits are massive. but i hate his stupid pinhead.

ultimate spider-man deadpool

8/10 yeah he's the best one the west has to offer. sorry. he is. his jokes are funny. he is completely insane. he upstaged spider-man in every way a deadpool should. he's a scene-stealer. he has the presence. he has the hips. he has the thighs. he has my heart. one of my first ever exposures to deadpool and the start of a downward spiral for me. he loses two stars because DEAR GOD his voice is UNBEARABLE but. the episode is a masterpiece if you hit the mute button. i wanted to write a fic about him to flesh out his lore because honestly i'm really interested in this specific presumably teenaged wade wilson who was digested by the shield system and came out of it a mercenary. wade i was a teenage mercenary wilson. i want to know everything about him. i'm obsessed with him.

marvel disk wars

10/10 he is SO cute and i think i'd die for him. he lends himself to anime so so well, and the japanese just know how to do deadpool. he's a spider-man fanboy and every bit the attention whore he's meant to be. he knows how to give his chimichangettes what they want. the crotch shots. the unrelenting barrage on the 4th wall. but he also has a good heart at the end of the day. he's everything to me.

marvel's future avengers

10/10 obligatory, for being basically just a continuation of the prior deadpool but in a new series. he is very wife. the art is better but the animation isn't. but he's so. so cute. look at him. look at his gwumpy little faaaace look at HIIIIIM...

the japanese do just know how to do deadpool. his sole motivation in all of these is literally just to hog screentime. that's literally all he's there for. he's just a spotlight hog. all he wants is attention, and for them to make cute anime figures of him. he's the most valid deadpool ever. i think.

#sci speaks #wade wilson #deadpool

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steddieasitgoes · 6 months

Text

@steddiemas Day 5 Prompt: Grinch vs Christmas Cheer

Tags: Modern AU, Eddie Munson & Jeff, Steve & Eddie Are Neighbors, Teacher Steve, Meet Cute

wc: 1863 | Rating: T

Read on ao3 | ao3 collection

“I thought you said you talked to them?” Eddie groans. He tips his head so far back he wobbles in the chair for a moment before he rights himself and buries his head in his hands. “I can’t work under these conditions!”

“I don’t think planning a campaign counts as working,” Jeff teases.

They’re in their apartment kitchen. Jeff cooking something that smells a hundred times better than the vending machine sandwich he had for lunch at the shop. Free from his day job, Eddie’s working on something he actually cares about now. The latest Dungeons & Dragons handbook is open to a random page while his trusty notebook sits open. There’s no use in hiding it from Jeff. It’s not like he could decipher Eddie’s chicken scratch penmanship anyway.

Besides, he hasn’t gotten much of anything done since he plopped down on the worn leather chair. It’s hard to work with the blaring sound of Mariah fucking Carey’s Christmas album playing on repeat for the third day straight coming from their neighbor's apartment. The obnoxious whirling of the fans keeping a dozen or so Christmas inflatables blown up on their shared stairwell and balcony also doesn’t help.

If this continues any longer, Eddie swears he’s going to find them a new place to live. The peace and quiet would be worth losing out on their rent-controlled place. At least, Eddie thinks so. Christ, he misses the Richards who moved last year. He’d take their scowls and snide comments over this Christmas madness any day.

“It absolutely counts as working,” Eddie scoffs, shooting a glare in Jeff’s direction. “And don’t change the subject, Jefferson. Did you even talk to Mr. and Mrs. Claus next door?”

Jeff snorts, shaking his head before returning to the pot of sauce he has simmering. “No, I didn’t and I’m not going to.”

“Jeff!” Eddie whines. “Your job as the approachable one of this house is to confront our neighbors when they’re annoying us.”

“Okay, but they’re not annoying me.”

“Well, that’s a lie. You hate Michael Buble as much as I do and I know you heard his stupid crooning voice at seven this morning like I did.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Jeff sighs, turning away from the stove to face Eddie. “But I can’t tell them to lower their music! Not when they haven’t complained once about the shit you blare at all hours of the night or our Corroded practices when we have nowhere else to go.”

If Eddie was less stubborn, maybe he’d see that Jeff has a point. But he is stubborn, so he doubles down instead.

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

“Fine,” Eddie shouts, throwing his hands up in defeat. The headache festering behind is eyes is too painful for him to keep arguing with Jeff. Besides, he’s never been able to push Jeff around. It’s why they make such good roommates. “Can you at least talk to them about their decorating habits then? I had to wade through a fucking forest of inflatables this afternoon. M’pretty sure Frosty the fucking Snowman almost punched my balls.”

“Eds, need I remind you that a few days ago you had the entire place decked out for Halloween? How is a few inflatables different than all those skeletons and demon shit you had up?”

“First of all, how dare you compare my artistry to whatever is going on outside,” Eddie scoffs. He’s going to give himself a sore throat if he keeps this up. “I have taste. My decorations told a story! Those inflatables aren’t even from the same properties. They’ve got Santa Mickey next to the fucking Grinch! Charlie Brown mingling with Yoda! There’s no plot!”

Jeff’s shoulders slump, forearms coming to rest on the kitchen counter so he’s at eye level with Eddie. “Just look on the bright side. At least they haven’t done one of those obnoxious light shows like that stupid reality show.”

As if Jeff accidentally summoned a demon in the form of Christmas cheer, a burst of red and green floods their apartment. Their once dimly lit kitchen looks like the inside of a club, red and green lights flickering with the occasional white and blue mixed in. The flickers are timed with the beat of another Mariah Carey Christmas song.

This is what hell must look like, Eddie thinks, as he glares at Jeff.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jeff defends, hands up in surrender.

Eddie can seem him struggling not to laugh and it takes all the energy he can muster not to reach around the counter and playfully punch his shoulder. How can Jeff think this is funny? The flickering lights completely goes against their moody aesthetic! Not to mention it’s a health hazard! There’s no way Gareth is going to be able to come over here — not with the way he’s so sensitive to strobes.

Jesus H. Christ and it’s only November 25th! He has to put up with this for weeks!

“It’s not funny, Jefferson!”

“I mean,” Jeff snorts, biting the inside of his cheek to keep his smile from growing. “It’s a little funny.”

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

The lights have not fucking stopped. Not for one single day. Eddie had hoped his neighbors would have grown tired of the constant strobing and Christmas music by now. But nope. A week and a half and its still going strong.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind.

“Jeff,” Eddie hisses, lifting the blanket of his makeshift fort enough that he can make eye contact with Jeff. Or at least, try to. Jeff’s perched in their recliner with the biggest pair of sunglasses Eddie’s ever seen. “Please. I can’t take much more of this!”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I might have believed you if you weren’t wearing those ridiculous things,” Eddie snorts. He waits for Jeff to retort but when he doesn’t, he groans and slowly emerges from the safety of his blanket fort. Christ he forgot how bright those damn things are.

Stalking over to their small entryway, Eddie hastily tugs on a pair of boots and reaches for the doorknob.

“What are you doing?” Jeff asks, voice laden with concern.

“Someone has to confront the neighbors!”

He doesn't give him time to respond, yanking the door open and slamming it shut behind him in one fluid movement. It should be a short trip to the neighbor's front door, just a few long strides, but Eddie forgets to account for the fuckton of inflatables cluttering the path. He ducks around Frosty, flipping him off when his stupid wood arms nearly deck his balls, again and forcibly shoves Mickey’s face away from him.

It takes another bit of carefully navigating before he finally reaches the front door adorned with a festive wreath. These people really left no spot undecorated. Eddie doesn’t spare them the decency of a nice, neighborly knock or ring of the doorbell. They’re way past that. Instead, he makes a fist and slams his knuckles into the wood door, and keeps going. Knock. Knock. Knockknockknock.

They probably can’t hear him over the damn music, Eddie thinks, as his knuckle turns redder and redder. Just when he’s about to retreat and face Jeff’s smug wrath, the door opens.

The first thought that passes through Eddie’s mind is oh, he’s hot. The second, more vital thought, comes a moment later. He’s going to kill Jeff. How dare he not disclose how attractive this guy is the minute he met him months ago?

The guy, who Eddie vaguely thinks is named Steve, looks just as surprised to see him as he is. Decked out in an obnoxious Santa-themed apron and green plaid flannel pants, his cheeks are spotted with flour and his hands are stained a faint red color. Judging from the delicious aroma of vanilla and peanut butter wafting into the hallway, Eddie interrupted some very serious baking.

“Oh, you’re not the Instacart shopper,” maybe Steve frowns. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh,” Eddie trails off. He’s here for a reason, he knows this, but his mind is blank. Distracted by the smells and the lights and the gorgeous fucking man standing in front of him with hazel eyes so sparkly Eddie’s pretty sure he belongs in a cartoon. “I’m Eddie, your neighbor.”

I’m Eddie, your neighbor?

This cannot be the same brain that creates intricate, plot twist-ridden campaigns that last months. Absolutely not.

“Ah, so you’re Jeff’s roommate! It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Steve.”

“Right, Steve” Eddie nods. He’s not sure why he nods, it’s not a normal thing to do when you meet someone, and yet, he can’t stop nodding. Stop fucking nodding!

“So, uh, what brings you by?” Steve asks, casually leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, I uh…” The lights. You were coming here to complain about the lights! “I came to tell you, uh… I could smell you baking!” Oh my fucking god. “You know these walls are thin and we, uh, share AC vents or something I think? So the smell was filling our place and it smelled so good I just, uh, had to come over and see what you’re baking?”

If Jeff was here, Eddie’s pretty sure he’d be two seconds away from collapsing in a fit of laughter. Thank god he’s not. As soon as he gets back to his room, he’s going to take a lukewarm shower and try to forget this entire interaction ever happened and then hide from Steve for the rest of his life.

“Oh, I’m making peanut butter cookies.” Steve’s smile is almost as blinding as the twinkling lights and like a moth to a flame, Eddie can’t look away. “One of my students has been having a rough time and they’re their favorite.”

“Damn, maybe if I had a teacher who baked me cookies I would have done better in school.”

Steve laughs, “Tell me about it. Actually, uh, do you want to help? I’m allergic to peanut butter and my best friend is tied up at work. I could really use a taste tester. Make sure they’re edible.”

“Oh, uh…” Eddie glances over his shoulder and takes in the sight of the sea of inflatables staring at him with their beady painted on eyes, squints at the obnoxious flashing lights keeping time to a terrible cover of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Together it’s the reminder he needs as to why he trekked over here in the first place, but when he turns he’s hit with a punch of peanut butter and well… “Not to toot my own horn, but I am a pretty good taste tester.”

“Perfect,” Steve smiles, pushing himself off the doorframe. “Kitchen’s this way.”

🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬 🎅🏼 🎄 🤬

Eddie returns an hour later. Belly full of joy just peanut butter cookies, but also chocolate chip, and gingerbread, and some cinnamon concoction that had him considering a marriage proposal on the spot and a tupperware overflowing with said cookies.

Jeff is still in the living room, sunglasses shielding his eyes, but Eddie knows him well enough to know he’s judging him.

“Don’t say a word,” Eddie sneers, heading straight for the kitchen.

#steddiemas #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie fan fic #steddie fluff #steddie meet cute #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fic #dani writes

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elithe31st · 2 months

Note

hey there! not sure if your writing for pjo yet, but i saw it on your list and i knew i had to come in!

may i request a percy jackson x male!reader who’s the child of aphrodite? maybe he’s really stylish and is considered really pretty since his mom is aphrodite.

if you also want plots (or if you don’t, ignore this part!), perhaps they’re sitting on the docs together and percys talking about how they should swim, but reader is all like “today is a great hair day, maybe tomorrow.” but percy pushes him in and reader is NOTTT having it. again, if you don’t take plots, ignore this part!

- anon

wow! okay! sorry about the wait!!!

FEEL GOOD INC.

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percy jackson x male!reader

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" FEEL THE WAY I GRAVITATE, A- HAHAHAHAAA... "

"Nice out here, is it, sea boy?" You said, walking up to the dock where the infamous, known-by-all Percy Jackson was sitting. Percy turned his head, welcoming you with a smile that you're pretty sure out-rivals your own.

"Perfect weather, too. Yeah, nice." Percy says, patting the space next to him to prompt you to come sit. And sit you do, sitting knee to knee with the son of Posiden.

The silence lasted for a few minutes, just you two looking out onto the water, onto the bright, blue sky. Until, Percy speaks up, breaking you out of your trance.

"We should go in the water." He suggests.

"Uh," you scoff, "no. I spent too long on my hair, no way am I going in the---EERE!" Your voice goes high pitch as Percy manipulates the water, making it wrap around you and dunk you in the lake. Underwater, you can hear Percy jump in too, and your noise of frustration is muffled.

You come up for air and you look at Percy with raw, unfiltered hatred. "Oh, you---!"

"Looks cute when your hair is wet. I like it better like that." Percy gets chest to chest with you, letting his fingers flow through the strands. You huff.

"You're no charmer. Just a big idiot." You shake your head, but ultimately you blush, looking at him.

"Yeah? Seems like I am." Percy wraps his arms around your neck, wading around in the water with you as your legs tangle together.

"Whatever, Jackson." You two share a kiss under the sun.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x male reader #percy #jackson #pjo x reader #pjo #pjo x male reader

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mikalame · 9 months

Text

Date me... please

'yes tom ill be down there in like 5 minutes, just let me finish my make up okay' you type into your phone. Tom was BLOWING it up nervous about the whole ordeal,

Ever since you had asked for his number he was texting you ever miniute, of every hour all day long, you found it quite cute tho, for him to be thinking of you that much, it made you kick your feet like a little school girl.

You rush down the stairs, quickly grabbing your heels as you hop to put them on, you look at your self in the hallway mirror, flatting your dress and making sure your lipstick wouldn't smudge you open the door.

Seeing Tom right there was a bit of a shock but it still made you blush, he had his phone in his hand 'he was probably going to text me to see how much longer i would be' you think.

Tom fumbles to put his phone in his dark jean pants, lifting his black and red top, that unknowing matched well with the little dress you had on aswell.

"___, you look.... stunning" he mumbles his eyes tracing over every inch of you outfit, "why thank you tom, you dress up nice as well" you giggle adjusting your handbag.

Tom takes you hand and escorts you to his car, as he hops in the drivers side, starting the car he exsplains about what you two would be doing for the night.

"So what i was thinking was that we go walk around the park and visit the arcarde store, then we can go to restaurant, how does that sound" looking at you before eyes flicking back to the road.

"Arcade store?" you ask "Yeah i mean we could do somthing else it just kinda what i thought in the moment you know" his words faluter as he speaks, his eyes pinned to the road wondering if you thought i was a stupid idea.

"No i think it will be fun, i havent been to an arcade store in years, oooo i wonder if they still have donkey kong, i LOVED that game when i was younger" you rant, you start telling tom all the games you loved as a kid getting side tracked if one had a specific memory you remembered.

By the time your finished your at the park, you can see the neon lights to the store from here, you look down at your outfit now feeling like you dressed up a bit much for an arcade store.

"Hey ___ its kinda chilly do ya want my jacket" Tom asks seeing you look at the outfit your wearing, "hmm oh yeah please tom, thank you" you mutter as you shrug it on.

As you two walk to enjoy the evening light and the nice cool breeze washing over your selfs, you stop and take a small amount of time to stop and watch the family of swans wading through the water.

Once getting to the arcade store after you dared tom to a game of how could get there faster tom only winning because you had a hard time running with heels on, but that didnt stop tom from bragging for the next 5 minutes.

The first game you visited was... donkey Kong of course after you two had got the pass you practically DRAGGED him over there holding on to his hand, playing a few rounds then moving to a game tom wanted to play, then switching back and fourth between games you or him wanted to play.

Walking back to the car goodies in hand you tried to stuff the majortiy of what you one in you handbag but that didn't really hold much, tom had decided to just use his top as a bag and place all his goodies inside, shortly followed by you placing your goods with his, tom held the rest of his top close to him so they didnt fall out.

Tom chucked all the treats onto the dash before speeding off to the restaurant, cracking jokes, and eating a few of the lollies you won.

Once arriving tom opens your door, holding it like you were some queen or something, before placing your hand in his walking to the big glass double doors.

You to get escorted to your reserved table and get handed these wood print menus with 4 different panels showing you the drinks, the food and the deserts, the majority of them had super fancy names that you and tom tried to pronounce to each other but failed miserably.

While waiting for you food to arrive you and tom were given your chosen drink of coke in a nice tall cold glass with a fancy little straw with a lemon on the side, tom decided to challenge you with a contest of who could stay the most calm while eating the slice of lemon.

Half way through your little contest you food had arrived, they had seen you and tom trying to keep your composure then freeze and turn slowly to face the poor waiter who had both of your food in hand.

Once she left you two busted out laughing, "The look on the poor ladys face ahahha" tom chuckles wiping a fake tear from his eye "i know that was so stupid tom" you giggle before taking your first bite of food.

When you both had finished tom went up to pay talking bout how he has to because hes just manly like that, but stumbling when his pants got caught on his shoe making him trip a bit.

You walk to the car with tom he was showing you how many of the free mints he got while paying he seemed very proud of this saying how you could have to but not anymore because you 'didnt help get this'.

You two sit in the car remisising about the night laughing at the race you didnt win, tom getting mad saying the arcade game scammed him and how he wanted hi money back, the face on the lady when she saw your little competition at dinner and when you guys had so much lollies they were dropping out all over the place.

The drive back to your home was calm, no awkwardness around just tom and you enjoying eachothers company, his hand placed on your inner thigh only moving when he has to change gears but putting his hand back before the area could even get cold again.

Toms car pulls up to your home opening your door just like he did at the restaurant walking you to your door. "Oh wait i forgot somthing" he says running back to his car, grabbing somthing beofre running back to you.

"Here, i remember you saying how these were you favorite flower, so i got some for you, i didnt give them to you before cause i forgot" he laughs running the back of his neck before holding them out for you.

"Wow tom these are beautiful im so glad you remembered i liked these" you say smelling the sweetness waft off the flower "i had a really great night tonight tom" you whisper you eyes flicking from his brown eyes to his pierced lip.

Tom caught on knowing what you wanted as well he whispers back to you "I had a great night aswell ___ i hope to do this again" taking his hand out holding you jawline and slowing bringing you in for a kiss.

You felt as if you were in a movie the porch light shining down on you, tom hand on your jaw, you and around his neck, it made you feel amazing like you were on cloud-9.

Your lips separating and you pull in air to your lungs you look at tom again before wishing him a goodnight kissing his cheek and closing the door softly behind your self.

Tom looks back at where you were standing just progressing the fact you kissed his back, he walks back to his car he looks at the lollies on the dash eating one of the blue ones a small smile on his lips,

ready to spill all of this to the band when he gets back he cant wait for you next date.

HEYYY GUYS sorry this took awhile and its quite long to read but i hope you all enjoyed, wasnt going to make a PT2 but so many of you liked the first one so here you gooo

taglist @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley@saumspam@adissonsss

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #bill kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz imagines

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zhounauts · 1 month

Text

TANKINI DREAMING — YANG JUNGWON wc 923 warnings cursing pairing lifeguard!jungwon x fmr

a day at the beach always meant the nostalgic smell of banana boat sunscreen lotion, burning hot sand, and memories of when you were younger, clad in a tankini strutting around in an attempt to seduce the life guard.

yeah. not your proudest moment.

but here you were again, standing underneath the beach umbrella, smelling of banana boat sunscreen, and definitely not in a tankini. you were older now, wiser, and 100% less likely to strut around the beach trying to seduce lifeguards out of your league.

as you settle onto your beach towel, in attempts to get tan, your sister stomps over to you, her small stature blocking the sun from hitting you. “what.” you grumble.

“stop being boring!” she huffs, “let’s go into the water!!”

”let me tan,” you mutter back, “shoo, go play in the sand yourself,”

“NO!” she exclaims, “let’s go into the water!! please please please please please please—”

“alright! i get it! shut up please,” you grumble again, standing up from your towel. you sigh, looking wistfully, at your towel before turning away to follow your sister who’s already atleast ten feet ahead of you. “hey! wait up!”

the water is cold despite the blazing hot weather, and you chatter as your legs touch the crashing waves. your sister however, is seemingly unaffected as she throws herself in, giggling as the waves splash onto her. you can’t help but smile at this as you wade in deeper, plans of revenge brewing in your head.

without a warning, you grab your sister, hoisting her up and then tossing her into the sea with a splash. she arises, kicking and sputtering, but there’s a smile on her face. she dives at you, and you laugh as she tackles you down into the water, only for you to wrestle her away from you. “uh uh,” you smile, “you’re still too weak for me,”

“i’ll take you—” she starts, only to be cut off by a wave dragging her underneath, and throwing her back up right into you. you laugh at her hair, drenched and stuck to her face as she angrily grumbles at you. the whistle blares through the beach, and you whip around back at shore to see who it’s aimed at.

but you immediately lose interest in this when you see the lifeguard. he is probably the most gorgeous man you have ever laid your eyes upon, and you even want to apologize to him for looking without permission. you suddenly feel like younger you, in a tankini, and dreaming of rizzing up the lifeguard. maybe, just maybe, this time you could actually—

“STOP LOOKING AT MEN I'LL TELL DAD!” your sister squeals, tossing a big scoop of saltwater at you, causing you to sputter and screech.

“YAH!” you exclaim, “you’re so dead!”

despite being only 18, after an hour of rough-housing in the ocean, and fighting the waves with your incredibly hyper sister, it is safe to say that you are pooped and absolutely done with movement for the rest of the day.

“i’m clocking out,” you groan sitting on the edge of the shore.

“you’re old,” your sister complains, “five more minutes!”

“nope, nope NOPE,” you tell her, “get out and we get ice cream, or i get out you stay and no ice cream,”

“you should’ve said that earlier!” she exclaims, “ice cream!!! i want a scoop of cookie monster, chocolate, and vanilla!”

“alright you ravenous beast,” you tell her, “just please let me get out of the damn water. . .”

your sister bounds out of the water, the thought of ice cream acting as new found energy for her. you groan, trailing slowly behind her.

“tired?’ you snap your head up in surprise, turning to the left of you. you’re met with the lifeguard stand, where four guys stand around. yet, it’s the gorgeous lifeguard you noticed earlier talking to you.

“yeah,” you answer, “i can’t keep up with that anymore,”

he laughs.

“so,” you start, “did you need something?” you ask, before quickly clapping your hand over your mouth, “sorry, that came out like really rude,”

“no, it’s okay,” he smiles, “uhm, well—”

“he thinks you’re cute!!” another lifeguard calls.

“he wants your number!”

“he wants to be your boy—”

“HEY SHUT UP!” the boy screams, whipping around at his friends. you hear the three of them giggle in the background, “sorry about them. i’m jungwon by the way,”

“i’m yn,” you smile, “i heard you think i’m cute?”

“will i get your number if i say yes?”

“well why don’t you find out?” you grin. jungwon laughs, pulling his phone out from his back pocket to hand it to you. you click your tongue.

“too natural jungwon,” you say, “you do this to other girls as well?” his eyes widen.

“what!? no—”

“just joking,” you laugh, quickly typing in your contact details in. you hand back his phone, and he grins at the contact you set up.

“how long are you going to be here for?”

“whole summer,” you answer.

“perfect,” he tells you, “i’ll—”

“YN STOP TALKING TO MEN!!” your little sister screeches from behind, “DAD—”

“AYE! you little shit you better—” you yell, diving towards your sister to cover her mouth.

“get me ice cream,” she smiles. you glare at her, but you sigh and give up, letting your sister drag you away. you turn back to smile apologetically at jungwon, who smiles as well, before he mouths something to you.

i’ll text you.

and i’ll text you back

ׂ╰┈➤ TANKINI DREAMING GENRE fluff PAIRING lifeguard!jungwon x f!reader WARNINGS cursing networks @a-dream-bookmark a/n its april, the fourth month, and the fourth of july is in summer, so basically it's summer!! (can you tell i'm REALLY manifesting summer)

#k-labels #k-film #jungwon x reader #jungwon x y/n #jungwon x you #enhypen jun #enhypen jungwon #enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader #jungwon fluff #yang jungwon #enhypen fanfic #dividers by cafekitsune

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1d1195 · 7 months

Text

Protection - Extra I

Read the rest of it here: Protection

I thought you all might want to read a bit about this. This is in between their dip in the water and their trip to England that I previously skipped over. (between part 9 and 10)

Just cute stuff I think (@freedomfireflies said it was romantic 😍thank you for reading it ahead of time for me). A little angsty maybe if you read it the right way.

~4k words

“Are you alright?” She asked, it came out strong. It was important to her to say it fully, no teeth chattering. She wanted to make sure Harry was okay.

He laughed, loudly. He couldn’t help it; he nosed at her ear. “Oh, love. M’fine... s’long as you are.”

The water was freezing; it was December after all. It felt like ice on Harry’s skin, and more so like it was seeping right into his veins. It was no more than twenty seconds before he reached her. He grabbed her by the arm before she started sinking further to the bottom. With a hurt leg and her arms once more held together by a zip-tie, his supervisor was definitely planning on letting her painfully drown to death.

It made Harry sick to be associated with such a place.

Harry pulled his free arm toward the top of the sea. They crested over the surface. Harry gasped quietly, more worried about making sure she had air. Almost immediately, he cupped a hand over her mouth a bit to hide the sounds she made as she spluttered over the splash of the waves. He worried that his supervisor might come back to check that she really was gone. Harry waded the pair of them toward the bottom of the little cliff. So that if he did look down, the view would be obstructed. “Shh, shh, m’here, baby. I have you, honey; m’so sorry, kitten. But y’gotta stay quiet, love. I got you,” he promised treading hard for both of them to stay afloat. It was so fucking cold. “M’sorry,” he whispered softly. As her breath came back more evenly, he pressed his lips to her forehead. Her lips were turning bluer by the second. Just like when she was paling without enough blood. It made him nervous even though he knew it was because she was freezing. But what truly worried him most, was the look of shock on her face. Like Harry wouldn’t have moved heaven and earth to find her and keep her safe.

After several seconds of silence, Harry didn’t have much choice but to risk it either way and started to swim awkwardly toward the sandy area nearby. He hauled her to shore, cradling her as best he could. They paused just at the shoreline Harry stretching his achy muscles from the stiffness of the cold. She didn’t even have a coat, the poor thing. Her jaw chattered almost violently—he could hear her teeth clacking together high heels down the hallway. Harry couldn’t feel his toes. “We gotta get warm,” he murmured, taking his pocket knife to the ties and releasing her poor, delicate wrists. Instantly, he was back on his cold feet. He scooped her up close. It was nearly second nature to hold her to his chest. He wished he could have stayed dry but what was his other option? Leave her in the water?

She looked tired, cold, and blue. “H-Harry,” she murmured, teeth clicking.

“I know, honey,” he cooed sadly; willing himself to be stronger because he had to be, he started back to his car.

“I-I hate h-him,” she reminded him sniffling a bit into his neck.

“I know. Me too, kitten.”

“How d-did you—?” There was a shake in her voice along with her teeth.

“I put a tracking device in y’scrunchie,” he admitted. He looked shy, embarrassed, his cheeks pinking at the admission. She wished she had the strength to reach up and touch them because she imagined his skin would warm her fingertips. “M’sorry, love...but I couldn’t...I don’t—"

The relief on her face was absolute. She looked at him as if he just told her that her mom was alive. “J-just p-put one in m-me,” she leaned toward him, pressing her face to his neck.

He smiled, grateful for the small reprieve of seriousness. The guilt he felt for tracking her like she was his property was abundant. But he was so grateful she was happy at the thought. “I thought ‘bout that too,” he confessed sheepishly.

“Are you alright?” She asked, it came out strong. It was important to her to say it fully, no teeth chattering. She wanted to make sure Harry was okay.

He laughed, loudly. He couldn’t help it; he nosed at her ear. “Oh, love. M’fine... s’long as you are.”

“I’m ok-kay.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, trying to nuzzle up to Harry. She wanted to shield herself from the cold sea breeze, but Harry was just as cold too. There was nothing but shivers passing through them like an electric current. Harry felt so much relief but was getting frustrated with the temperature of the air, the chill in the water, and just of course the day as a whole.

To conserve energy, they were silent. Eventually, they finally made it back to his car. Without running, it seemed like it took hours, not minutes, to get back. The poor thing looked so utterly exhausted. Harry reached below the wheel hub for his spare key—he probably could have left his whole key ring but he didn’t want to be without a phone, a car, nor his wallet in the event something worse happened. (Especially because he wanted to keep her precious handwritten notes preserved in his wallet safely. No way he was willing to risk losing those.)

He set her on her good leg, her body throbbing anyway as if it were the bad one because she was so numb with coldness; Harry kept her pressed to him. Her jaw was shaking so violently, Harry worried she would hurt her teeth. He bit his lip; now that his mind was clearer with less cold saltwater attacking him and taking over all rational thought and senses. “Honey,” he said softly, almost unsurely. Nervously. Like she was going to hate what he had to do to take care of her because he hated what he knew he had to do.

“Whatever you h-have to d-do, Mr. EMT.”

He sighed with more relief passing through him. He smirked at her, amazed she could still make jokes when her fingers looked like they were about to fall off from the chill. He coaxed her to sit on the ground—mindful of her aching leg. She frowned instantly, from the lack of contact—even if she and Harry were cold it was better to be held by him just because he made her insides feel warm.

But Harry was as speedy as he could be. He grabbed a couple blankets and the array of clothing he had in the boot originally packed for the gym. There were a few leftover sweatshirts from the change in season when he would wear sweatshirts home from the gym to keep the chill in the air from bothering him when he was all sweaty. Hurriedly, he laid one of his blankets in the backseat.

He turned back for her. She was wide-eyed. Waiting for directions, chattering, rubbing her hands up and down her arms trying to get the friction to warm her, to do something for her cold and achy skin. “Love, I gotta take your clothes off.”

She looked devastated. Immediately she regretted her words that she would do whatever he asked. She shook her head at him, her eyes pleading with him. “N-no m’cold,” she chattered again.

“I know, beautiful. M’so sorry. But we have t’get warm. M’cold too, kitten. But—”

“P-please, no,” she begged anyway.

“Honey—”

“Can’t w-we—”

“M’gonna take my clothes off too, kitten, we need body heat,” he explained. Reminding her of the science may have helped the cold slip out of her foggy mind and appeal to the part of her brain that knew the science behind what he was saying.

It seemed to do the trick. “Oh, why d-didn’t you s-say so,” she smiled as flirtatiously as she could with blue lips and icicle-looking hair.

He rolled his eyes. “Keep it in y’pants, love.” But she couldn’t help it. Really couldn’t. Because naked Harry was all she thought about for the last week and half. Before the awful terrible stuff happened. He pulled his jacket off, hurried to the driver’s door and started the car blasting the heat. “S’gonna feel awful, love,” he warned. “M’so sorry,” he kissed her forehead hating how her skin felt colder than his own chilled lips.

Sighing, she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered, bravely giving him the go ahead. She sighed deeply as he helped her back to stand and he started with the thin shirt she had on from the hospital. “D-did you kn-now the wa-water is warmer in December than a m-month like M-May c-cause the h-heat cap-pacity for water st-stays long-ger from the s-summer? S-so this water is ac-actually w-warmer c-cause of August?” Harry didn’t know if she was genuinely trying to make conversation or if she was trying to distract herself. Either way, he was hopelessly in love with her beautiful brain.

“So, May would’ve been a worse time for this t’have happened t’us?” She nodded as he peeled the cold, wet clothes off her body as quickly as he could. “A Christmas miracle,” he murmured.

He did leave a sports bra and her underwear on, but it was of course not nearly enough for Christmas Eve in December. She whimpered as the breeze brushed over her. He carefully helped lay her down, so she was lying on her side closer towards the back of the seat. He then wrapped a sweatshirt around her cold feet, rubbing over top of them to add to the friction. He angled the vents from the front so she would feel the warmth hopefully. Harry stripped immediately and quickly as possible. His jeans were a challenge to peel off—stiff with the saltwater soaking every little fiber. He hurried to pull a blanket halfway around his side so he could slip into the space left for him beside her. He was grateful she already felt a smidge warmer as he pressed his body as close to hers as he could and shut them both inside his backseat with a slam of his door and click of the lock. “This is s-so unf-fair,” she whispered to herself.

Harry smiled and shook his head. “Promise I’ll let y’look s’much as y’want when we’re warm again,” he wrapped her closer. God it was so nice to hold her. Even if they were both freezing. Even if he wanted to explode with anger and murder all of DSS (except Niall).

They didn’t speak again for the duration of however long it was again, to conserve energy. Harry closed his eyes feeling relief crushing him as he held her to his body. Her icy skin was still like heaven to touch. For the first time in nearly a week, he felt like he could breathe again. Despite the direness of the situation, he was certain this was some form of heaven. He listened to her breathing against his neck, her quiet sniffle every few moments as he inhaled against the side of her head basking in the warmth he felt just from knowing she was safe in his arms.

Harry didn’t look at what time they got into the car but eventually the windows began to steam, and her shivers subsided. Her hair stopped dripping onto his skin and Harry could feel his toes again. “Do you have an eight-pack?” She murmured into his chest. Her nose was still cold, but her teeth weren’t chattering anymore. He felt her hands curled right below his navel.

He smirked lazily. “Behave, m’love,” he mumbled into her hair, enjoying the ease of the moment. She was warmer. She was safe. Harry wasn’t letting her out of his sight for a second for at least a month—maybe longer.

“Am I really that ugly you’re unaffected by me being naked?”

“M’not dignifying that with a response, kitten.”

She sighed. “You’re never gonna sleep with me, are you?”

“Honey, I thought y’were dead four days ago. Y’almost drowned within the last hour. Not t’mention y’were drugged a few months back, twisted an ankle, and nearly sliced y’hand open. Jus’ wanna hold y’right now,” he murmured. “Jus’ lemme do it.”

She didn’t say anything for a few beats. “When you say it like that it sounds like I’m cursed.”

He smiled. “M’gonna sleep with you. Promise.”

She was a little skeptical, mainly because she was cold and grumpy. “Are you gonna be weird about my leg?” She asked.

He nodded decidedly. “Very.”

She released another exasperated sigh and let the silence wash over them again. Harry squeezed her every few moments hoping for extra warmth from the friction. Also, because he was so happy she was okay; alive and real. He paid special attention to her breathing, listening for signs of irregularities. “Harry?” She asked so quietly, Harry worried that she was about to faint or something.

“Yes, m’love?” He hummed.

“Are we...still going to England?”

Harry felt the smile expand on his face so warmly it was hard to imagine he was cold right now. “Of course, kitten,” he hummed. “As soon as we pack.”

“Will your mom and sister like me?”

Harry felt his heart stutter against his ribs. He wondered if she felt it against her lips. “Yes, honey. Very much. Almost s’much as I do.”

“How much is that?”

He sighed. He thought about the notes he had in his wallet. Her little heart telling her she didn’t get kidnapped while brushing her teeth. How close she really was to predicting the future. Then of course the much more recent, horrible time she said sorry so profusely and admitted she adored him. “A lot, kitten. So much.”

She nodded, deciding there wasn’t much point in arguing. Harry found her despite everything, all the heartache and all the drama anyway. It was plenty—more than enough, really for her to believe him. “Okay, good,” she said. “I want out of here so bad.”

He chuckled, pressing his lips to her temple and giving her a squeeze. “Are y’warm?”

“I can feel my toes and fingers again,” she flexed them against his body for good measure.

He nodded gratefully. “How’s your leg?”

“It hurts a lot,” she had been focused on getting warm, but she was in so much pain between the cold numbing of her limbs, the hole in her thigh already seemed like nothing in comparison. But she couldn’t help but feel the sore ache of the ripped flesh coming back with a vengeance. “Saltwater and everything.”

He kissed her forehead. “We’ll go in jus’ a few more minutes. S’it unbearable?”

She shook her head. Harry was holding her. He was bare except for a pair of cold wet boxers. He was holding her. His lips were in her hair and his breath touched her scalp. Almost drowning, getting drugged, twisting an ankle, getting shot, and slicing her hand seemed like nothing. She would even consider doing it again if Harry could hold her like this forever. “No... not unbearable,” she decided.

He nodded sullenly. “I don’t have a plan,” he admitted. “I don’t want... them t’know you’re alive,” he murmured.

“Me either.”

More silence followed. It was comfortable though. What could they possibly say right now? Harry was just so grateful she was alive he didn’t care if they spoke for the rest of their lives.

She started giggling shortly thereafter. Almost uncontrollably. Her mind was thinking about how ridiculous all of this was. How bad it was. All that happened over the last couple weeks—the last few months with Harry. The laughter shook her against Harry making the friction warm themselves faster.

“Why are y’giggling? Y’need medical attention again. We need t’get into your apartment...we...” he sighed. “S’a mess, love. Such a mess.”

She pressed her cheek to his chest trying to stifle her laughter. “Yeah, it is...”

“How can y’be so calm ‘bout this?”

“I am basking in how nice it feels to know DSS is the worst.”

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Honey; s’not the time.”

“Y’know what will be really fun,” she said softly. “Telling our kids that you shot me.”

He winced trying not to picture it even though she said it so casually, as if it was an inside joke. But he liked the idea of their kids a lot. “Are y’delirious?”

She smiled into his skin with a little nod and shrug. “I have a plan. But we’re going to need some help.”

“Jesus Harry, I’m so fucking sorry,” Niall croaked the second he answered.

“Niall, stay calm; they can’t know. Especially if you’re around anyone else,” her voice was low, just in case anyone overheard his conversation. “Say so fucking sorry, Harry, again if you understand and can do this right this second or I’ll hang up and try again in a bit.”

There was a silent second as Niall theoretically composed himself. “So fucking sorry, Harry,” he repeated breathlessly.

She was taking charge again. Harry was hunched awkwardly on the inside of the seat while he worked on her leg with a kit he had from his EMT days. Most of the stuff was expired and there were a lot of materials missing, but it was better than nothing. He wrapped a dry sweatshirt around her torso, she wasn’t wearing pants while he tended to her thigh, but he had never loved her as much as he did right then. “Can you get in my apartment? Say yes this is real, if you can, or no I don’t believe it, if you can’t.”

“Yes, it’s real,” he said stiffly.

“A little more emotion, Niall. They won’t believe you. Tell Harry when the services are supposed to be.”

“Eleven in the morning. Saturday, the twenty-eighth.”

“Leave it to dad to ruin everyone’s holiday break so he can sell his suffering...” she grumbled. “We need two tickets to England at that time...can Harry text you on this line? Say yes, you’re allowed to come or no, you’re not.”

“No, you’re not allowed to come.”

She nodded, but by and large that was only a small hiccup. “Can you come to Harry’s house?” She asked. “Say I’ll send you the info or I can’t.”

“I’ll send you the info.”

“I adore you, Niall,” she smiled sweetly. “Aside from Harry you’re the only good part of DSS.”

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” he whispered off script; she wondered if the sorry really was meant for her or for Harry. In the end she suspected it was probably both.

“I know...we’ll see you later,” she promised. “I owe you a big hug.”

“Bye, Harry,” his voice cracked a bit. She smiled sweetly.

“Bye, Niall.”

Niall had her passport and the duffle bag that was packed in her apartment along with all of her belongings that she asked for—as well as a set of crutches to help support her injured leg. He shoved Harry out of the way when he opened the door, nearly throwing her heavy bag at him and heading over to her on the couch to cash in on the hug she owed him.

Harry rolled his eyes but completely understood Niall’s anxiety and excitement just knowing she was alive.

“How did you know you were going to make it out alive?” Niall finally asked after a thousand other questions.

She smiled at Niall. It was the first time Harry left her alone in a room for longer than a minute—even if he was just one room over and could still see her if he looked around the half wall. He was organizing his things in his own suitcase and simultaneously checking the paperwork Niall had done. He was focused intently on reading everything, making sure everything was in place. There was not a single centimeter of room for error.

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t know it was going to be this dire,” she shrugged.

Niall was looking at her like she was a ghost. Harry had her leg propped on the couch; a pillow stacked to keep it fluffed up. She swore it didn’t even hurt all that much, but they had spent the last few nights in crummy motels and after he helped her shower in his own regular-sized shower, a day before they departed the country, he wanted to make sure she was as comfortable as humanly possible.

At night, he wrapped her in his arms so tightly it was almost too hot when they woke up. But Harry couldn’t let her go—not even an inch. She didn’t protest either; the warmth was welcomed—especially after the frigid dip in the icy water. Plus, sleeping with Harry was all she wanted. Well...the most rated-G thing she wanted to do with Harry.

“I told them you’re leaving to visit home,” Niall said to Harry. “They don’t understand everything, but they won’t bother you.”

Harry nodded silently in response to triple checking again.

“Can you tell my professor I’m not dead...once I’m in England?” She asked.

Niall smiled. “Happy to.”

“Do you have a plan?” She asked.

“M’surprised y’don’t, love,” Harry muttered placing the passports and other paperwork into a folder for safekeeping through their travels.

“Oh, I do. I was just wondering if Niall did.”

Chuckling, Niall smiled. “M’all ears, darling.”

So, she explained her thoughts. Told him exactly what she thought would happen and how it should be handled in response. Apart from a few minor details, he agreed wholeheartedly. “You really like this guy?” He jerked his head in Harry’s direction with a smirk.

She nodded eagerly with a pretty smile. “Yeah...I know.”

Harry shook his head as he rolled his eyes at her. “You’re much too smart for him,” Niall reminded her.

She giggled and Harry sighed. “That I agree with,” Harry murmured.

“He saved my life, though...a lot,” she shrugged.

Niall smiled brightly. “Give Anne and Gemma a big hug from me, yeah?” Niall said, kissing the top of her head. “And don’t let him feel too guilty, y’know how he gets,” he whispered only for her as he pulled away from their embrace. “Harold, maybe don’t turn her into Swiss cheese? Enjoy the holiday?”

She giggled but worried Harry would have a breakdown if they kidded too much about it. Considering it was still so fresh. Especially since she knew Niall was right about how guilty Harry was probably feeling. The second Niall was gone she dropped her head back against the cushion. “I have no books to read while we’re there.”

“I’ll buy us some,” he promised and came back over to sit on his coffee table. He still looked exhausted—beautiful, but exhausted. It was only a little after eight in the evening.

“Can we go to bed?” She asked, yawning because she was exhausted too. She wanted nothing more than to snuggle close to Harry in a normal bed.

He smiled tiredly. “Yes, love, of course.” Harry helped her stand and held onto her to support her injured leg. “I wish you’d jus’ let me carry you,” he murmured the short walk to his bedroom. She ignored him and slipped between his soft sheets, and it felt like a cloud was holding her in comparison to the stiff motel mattresses. She moaned softly at the feeling. Harry chuckled.

“Comfy?”

She nodded. Harry slid in beside her and they were drenched in darkness. They were set to leave tomorrow and get away for a bit. A comfortable silence fell over them. It had been happening a lot since she woke up from her little medical nap. There was too much to think about. Too much to do and until they were safely away from DSS in another country. So the quietness was peaceful—after everything. They had said so much through words and actions over the last few days. There was still so much to discuss but it would have to wait. They were so very tired. Ached to the bone with injuries, chills, and bad dreams. She wanted to sleep for days. She wanted Harry to sleep for days. “Can I live here? On this mattress?” She asked.

Harry’s heart fluttered. “You can live here forever, Miss Wildflower,” he promised, making her heart melt. It was the first time she had ever felt so truly cared for since her mom died and it was overwhelming to say the least. His fingers danced along her arm making goosebumps appear on her skin, but not because she was cold. No, Harry made her so warm just by being there.

“Even with all my crazy flowers?” She whispered quietly.

“Especially with your beautiful flowers.”

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @youdontcaredoyou @tiredinwinter @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach @straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals @angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams @summertime-pills @daphnesutton @l4rrysh0use @perfectywrong @foreverxholland @lolyouallsuck @buckybarnessimpp @stylesfever @harrysxcarolina @lovrave

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist for more of my writing.

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dandylovesturtles · 11 months

Text

I said to myself, “I’m going to write a short little ficlet about April taking the boys’ pictures for Splinter, that will be cute,” and then the Donnie portion got so long that I was like “okay I’ll just write about that.” I’m sure later I will circle back to the other three, and April showing the pictures to Splinter.

Support 100 Feet and a World Away in the TMNT Separated AU competition if you wanna! I have no idea when my poll is coming…

…

“Okay, before we start planning today,” April pulls out her phone, turning on the camera, “I’m gonna take your picture!”

Donnie looks suspicious. She can’t blame him - he’s had to put a lot of trust in her, a person he barely knows. She’s sure there’s some part of him that still thinks she’s planning on turning him into some kind of freak show attraction. “Why?”

“I’m gonna show your dad.” She lifts the phone, frowning at the bad lighting. Too bad she can’t turn any more on… “He wants to see what you look like all grown up!”

That’s half of it. The other half, she’s sure, is that Splinter wants to know that she isn’t jerking him around - that she really has met the boys, that she can get to them. He’s having to put a lot of trust in her, too.

It’s a little overwhelming when she thinks about it too long, so she doesn’t. Just focus on getting the photos - that’s all she has to do.

“The man who claims to be my father, you mean,” says Donnie.

April swallows down an exasperated groan. “Donnie, he has baby pictures of you.”

“Are you telling me there’s no way of manipulating pictures?”

“What, you think they’re photoshopped?”

“Aha!” Donnie points at her dramatically. “So there is a way!”

She needs to change tacks here. “These would be hard to fake. He’d have to know what you look like - what all of you look like.” She gestures at him. “He’d have to know that you have markings on your arms and shoulders, your eye color, what your shell looks like… That your color is purple.”

Donnie still looks suspicious through her little speech, but at the last point, she can see something else break through. After all, that’s the one thing the scientists here don’t know.

He’s still not sold, she knows that, but she can’t blame him there, either. All the walls he’s built up are defensive, and they’ll take time to wear down.

“I wouldn’t show this to anyone I think would hurt you,” she says, hoping he believes her. “I’ll even delete it when I’m done, if you want.”

He hesitates a second longer, and when he moves back from the fence and lowers into the water she thinks he won’t agree. But then he surfaces again, a few feet back, and holds his arms straight out to the sides.

“Okay,” he says resolutely. “I’m ready.”

She stares at him. “Uh… why are you standing like that?”

“Is this not the normal protocol for taking pictures?”

She doesn’t want to ask, but she does, anyway. “Is that how those creeps make you stand?”

“Yes.” He twists at the waist. “Front and then back.”

Of course. Every day she learns some new, messed up thing.

She wishes she could have five minutes alone with these creepazoid scientists - just her, them, and her trusty baseball bat.

But Donnie doesn’t need her justifiable rage right now, so she breathes past it and focuses.

“No, it’s not… Most people don’t take pictures like that.” T-pose for dominance crosses her mind, but there’s absolutely no time for explaining memes right now. “You wanna look more… natural.”

“Natural. Okay.” He drops his arms, then fidgets with his hands. “How do I do that?”

“Just stand how you normally stand when you talk to me.”

He frowns, then wades closer. Sways a little, his eyes locked on her. It’s interesting, how it doesn’t scare her like it did at first. “Like this?”

He looks angry like this. His mouth is set in a line, eyes intense. April knows it as his resting face, but what will Splinter think?

Telling Donnie to smile feels weird, though, so she sucks in a breath and nods. “Yep, like that. Okay, I’ll take the pic - it’s gonna flash, okay?”

“Flash?”

“Yeah, flash a bright light. Just for a second.”

He nods. “Okay.”

She holds up the phone, focuses, then takes the pic. Donnie doesn’t startle at the flash, and she’s glad she warned him about it.

The picture itself is… well, depressing is the only word she has for it. Donnie looks angry, standing alone in the dark, feet from the camera and behind a fence. The shadows from the chain link crisscross over his face and body, stark reminders of his captivity.

On one hand, it definitely shows the situation Donnie is in.

On the other, she can only imagine how it would feel to see this picture as a parent.

She kinda hates the idea of bringing Splinter only this… But what else can she do?

“Hmmm…” She taps the phone against the palm of her hand, thinking. Her eyes land on the slot in the fence they use to give Donnie food, and an idea forms.

“Is something wrong with it?” Donnie asks, and she shrugs.

“I was just thinking, the fence makes it hard to see your face.”

“I can’t leave the fence yet, though,” he reminds her, and she shakes her head.

“No, but I can give the phone to you.” She indicates the food slot.

Immediately his eyes light up. “You’re giving me the phone?” His voice pitches up in excitement.

“Hold your horses! We don’t have time for you to go down an internet search rabbit hole, okay?” He opens his mouth, and she shakes her head. “And you are not taking it apart.” He shuts his mouth again. “You’re just gonna take a selfie.”

“A selfie?”

“Yep!” She turns around, then lifts her phone so he can see the screen. He gets as close as he can without touching the fence, so close she can feel his breath as he exhales. His eyes are locked on the phone in fascination. “See this button? If you click that, it switches to the selfie camera.”

“There’s a camera on the front of the phone too!?” Donnie sounds delighted by this information. “Where are they hiding it!?”

“Uh, it’s up here… somewhere.” She gestures at the top of the phone, then shakes her head. “Anyway, once you’re ready, you click this button, and it takes the pic! And that’s called a selfie, because you took a picture of yourself.”

She shows him the picture they just took, of herself talking and Donnie leaning in close, watching with rapt attention. It’s definitely not her best picture, but Donnie looks so much more alive than he did in the last one, even still obscured by the fence.

She thinks she might keep that one, too.

“I see… a selfie.” Donnie says the word like he does all new ones, like he’s turning it around in his mouth to see how it feels. “And you want me to take one?”

“Yep!”

She turns to the food slot, then hesitates. There’s always a chance Donnie will completely disregard what she just said and take the phone for himself - she can’t exactly get it back from him if she hands it over.

But he’s been putting a lot of trust in her, so she can give a little back.

“Here - don’t let it get wet.”

She slips it into the slot. Donnie shakes off his hands, then takes it between his fingers, looking at it with entirely too much reverence. If he ever gets a phone if his own, she thinks, they’ll never get him off it.

For a moment he looks extremely tempted to start rooting through the internet no matter the risks, but after she clears her throat (twice) he gets back on task.

“Right, okay… so I just hold it up like this…” He squints, then moves around in the enclosure, watching the screen. “…I can see myself better here,” he says after he stops.

“You have better lighting there,” April agrees - not that the lighting was ever going to be great with just the dimmed safety lights. “Look at you, you’re a natural!”

Donnie lights up at the praise, his face loosening if not quite smiling. He takes the picture, then ducks like he’s about to go under the water (“Donnie, not with the phone!”), before wading back to the fence.

“Is this okay?” he asks, showing her the screen.

He doesn’t look angry anymore, and the lighting is better - and without the fence, there’s a clear view of his face.

April grins. “It is. Hey, how about you take a few more, though, just to be on the safe side.”

“Ah, yes… to be on the safe side,” he repeats, before wading back to the same spot as before. He lifts the phone, and starts taking pictures, looking at them each time.

After the first two, his lips twitch up, and then his smile grows and grows. April watches as he takes ten more pictures, even starting to tilt his head and angle this way and that. Like a normal kid trying to get the best shot for his instagram.

Her heart warms over it.

She’d let him do this all night if she could, but she only has a few hours and she has to get to the other boys, so after a few minutes more she calls out, “Donnie, I think that’s enough.”

“Can I take a few more?” He glances back at her. “This is… fun.”

“I know, but I gotta take pictures of your brothers, too.” She smiles reassuringly. “Once you’re outta here, you can take all the selfies you want, okay?”

He holds the phone tight, considering… but then he comes back to the slot and gently pushes it back to her.

She takes the phone and opens the pictures, flipping through them in order. His smile in the pictures gets wider and wider, quickly taking on that manic, unhinged quality he gets when he gets really worked up about something.

April feels like she likes those selfies the best. He looks most alive. Most like himself. She can’t wait to show these to Splinter.

After all, if he can’t love this kid at his most weird, he doesn’t deserve to be Donnie’s dad.

#dandy fanfiction #100 feet and a world away #rottmnt #rottmnt april #rottmnt donatello #I’m supposed to get my computer back today #if I don’t I’m rioting

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sugafairy · 1 year

Text

Naruto Reaction - Seeing Your Natural Hair Pt. 2 (Lee, Choji, Kiba & Neji)

First request in a while! Ngl this was so self-indulgent (hence why its so long jsnsnssk) This is for all my fellow peeps embracing their natural hair!

Link to Pt 1.

Please don’t forget to like/reblog!

Neji

You were spending the night with him. He had insisted. A late night mission led to Konoha 11 checking into a very overbooked hotel. This said mission also left you with a nasty gash on your shoulder, which Sakura had stitched up and promised it wouldn’t scar.

As always, Neji felt responsible for you and wanted to make sure you were okay throughout the night. You were absolutely fine but Neji couldn’t be swayed. He wanted you two to share a room and so you did. It was okay, really. The bed was plush and comfortable and had many pillows that you could sink into.

Neji sat on the edge of the bed looking at you intently and leant forward until he was properly laying down. He propped his head up on his hand, staring at you as you snored softly. Tufts of hair were sticking out of your bun and your edges had fluffed up cutely. He reached out to stroke your head. It was springy and porous and god, you were just beautiful. It was your first night next to him and he wanted to memorise every single coil.

Rock Lee

You were a blooming flower, his blooming flower. He hadn’t seen you in a day and that was a day too long. You typically took a day off for ‘wash day’ - just so you could have enough time for your shampooing, clay mask, conditioner aaand deep conditioner (yes, Lee, those are two different things).

Lee had left Tsunade’s office a little earlier than usual so he thought he’d stop by at your place with some pizza. You opened the door and he blushed. You had a bright pink towel over your shoulders and your wet tresses dangling against it. Your hair was bright blue, your natural colour which complemented your cool, brown skin. “You brought pizza!” You exclaimed, pulling him out of his trance. He chuckled nervously and you grinned up at him and jumped to smooch him on the cheek. He was so smitten.

Choji

You had tasked Choji with helping you take down your braids. To your surprise, he was very excited to help. You sat in between his legs, your back leaning against his knees as his hands hovered above your head working swiftly at each braid. You looked down and chuckled at the pile of braiding hair beside you getting bigger whilst your head began to feel lighter. You sighed, it felt great having someone else take your box braids out for you. Choji’s hands occasionally grazed against your scalp, their warmth almost lulling you to sleep. “Love, your hair is so fluffy!” He gleamed as he bumped the top of your head before twirling a strand around his finger. It bounced back, perfectly in shape. He could feel your shoulders slump and your neck relax before you let out soft snores. He chuckled and nuzzled his face into all of your hair, its floral scent making him sigh.

Kiba

The great Inuzuka (he insists you call him that, nerdy, I know) had promised to teach you how to swim one day and today was indeed, that day. He was wading in the pool, when you eventually strolled out. He was hypnotized by your beauty as you entered the pool. Your corkscrew hair laid delicately against your shoulders. He coughed nervously.

“Right, so we’ll start with getting comfortable with your face being in the water.” You nodded apprehensively.

“Hey, I will be right here with you, okay? Nothing will happen” He said as he put his hand on your shaking shoulder.

You nodded again, took a deep breath and dunked your head down, rather hurriedly. You must’ve panicked, as you spluttered and rushed your head up causing you to stumble against your feet and fall back-first. “Shit!” Kiba exclaimed.

He managed to catch you before you sank backwards. “I’ve got you…” he mumbled, pulling you by your waist, holding you close. He scanned your face. You were no longer breathing heavily and you managed to give him a relaxed smile. Your hair was dripping wet, your curls gently tucked behind your ears. Your hair was much longer when wet, just about under your shoulder blades. He had never seen your natural hair wet before. You looked ethereal. “You look like a mermaid” he breathed out as he cupped the back of your head leaning closer into you.

#naruto #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #kiba x reader #kiba inuzuka #boruto #naruto uzumaki #neji #neji hyūga #choji akimichi #choji #rock lee fluff #rock lee #naruto fluff #naruto smut #naruto x reader #naruto shippuden

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sylvies-chen · 3 months

Note

top five moments of 6x02 ♡

OMG I CAN ONLY PICK FIVE?? OK LET’S GO:

lie detector (tim’s ily) — I think this moment is my favourite part of the episode by far, because first off you have the question about the bugs which was SOOOO cute and so encapsulating of chenford’s relationship that it had me giggling at my tv and twirling my hair lol. but then lucy takes the time to seek out confirmation of his love out of her own will, not because she needed to be proven right but because she wanted to hear it 🥹 and he immediately says yes! he loves her! we finally get to hear it and the lie detector shows it’s true and it’s just so gratifying for chenford fans to finally get this

cop cutie! cute and on duty! — GUYS I KNOW IT’S CORNY BUT HATERS WILL HATE, DADDY COP IS A BANGER!! this was so funny and such an earworm— and to those saying they thought it was an old episode when it opened on that scene, lemme just say SAME lol— but then to up the ante by pulling out the choir as if literally singing for and rejoicing the 100th episode was just so perfect and classic rookie: a little hokey but well executed and fun and all around heartfelt. 10/10 I need it on spotify right now.

if I ain’t got you by alicia keys (lucy’s ily) — okay I’m scared some of you chenford girlies are going to tar and feather me for not putting this at number 1 or 2 but HEAR ME OUT: I’ve expressed my problems about this temporary argument solution!! I think this whole scene is so gorgeous for so so so many reasons: lucy and tim dancing as a couple for the first time, the matching outfits, the kiss, ugh all PERFECT I love my babies 🥹❤️ that being said, I don’t like how so much of the resolution/peace between them relied on tim being completely in the wrong when I feel like it’s a more nuanced issue than that and denies lucy any opportunity to critically reflect on her own feelings about this. and also, it does seem weird to me that she wouldn’t have said ‘I love you’ back to tim when he first said it?? they smile at each other but then they’re back to looking awkwardly from afar at the wedding (prior to this scene of course) and so I’m a bit uneasy at the implication (which the writers did not necessarily add on purpose) that lucy’s ily depended on him admitting he was wrong in any way. but idk maybe I’m just being too nitpicky here, I still ADOREEE THIS SCENE FOREVER AND EVER I want it on my grave k thanks

tim down on one knee — need I say more?? this imagery of him on his knee with the ring staring up at lucy was a glimpse at chenford’s future and it was such cute teasing, god I love writers and showrunners when they add messy fun little teaser moments like this! plus tim totally kicked ass, all covered in blood and ready to pass out, and ah, I do always say the best kind of lust is bloodlust 😌

bailan wedding vows — I actually cannot believe the day has come where a bailan moment is in my top 5 episode moments but these wedding vows showed me how the writers are finally able to articulate what works about them as a couple!! with someone as impressive and as versatile and skilled as bailey, I think literally any other man would feel threatened or emasculated, but nolan really is just Some Guy™️ who’s really into her and obsessed with her and is very sturdy ground for her to come home to. I wish we dove more into her past as a survivor of abuse because I feel like that previous situation informs so much of why she loves john even though, let’s be real: she’s eons above his league holy shit it’s not even funny how out of his league she is. but also she could never be with anyone else! she really just loves him and they have such a nice soft relationship which the wedding really sold me on. I liked it a lot even though I had my qualms about her and him as individuals and together.

honourable mention to wade and luna because I love them so much y’all they are adorable!! anyways, here’s my list and lmk if you agree

#abby.answers #the rookie #chenford #tim bradford #lucy chen #john nolan #bailey nune #celina juarez

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xalygatorx · 4 months

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Unbound | Chapter 18, "Bard Dance" (End of Act 1)

Áine Ts'sambra—a wayward half-drow bard with a painful past—has her world upended when she's snatched up by a Nautiloid ship and furnished with a tadpole to the brain. In her journey to remove the infestation before it can turn her and her newfound companions illithid, she not only finds that their solution has more layers to parse through than she can count, but that a particular vampire in her party does as well.

Unbound is an ongoing generally SFW medium-burn romance based in the world of Baldur's Gate 3 between Astarion and a female OC. Any NSFW content will be marked in the Warnings section. Contains angst, fluff, explorations of trauma, spice, graphic fantasy violence, and a guaranteed happy ending.

For anything additional on what to expect (and not expect), check the preface post.

Summary: Before bringing Nere’s head to Spaw and leaving the Underdark, Áine, Astarion, and the party take an evening just to have a bit of fun. Astarion actively tries to be romantic. The private gesture gets blown into a party of sorts by the couple’s heavily imbibed friend group. Astarion and Áine end up having an even more private moment together. The group readies themselves the next morning to continue their journey down the path to Moonrise Towers.

Pairing: Astarion x Fem!OC

Warnings: 18+/NSFW (cunnilingus); fluff of the romantic and platonic varieties; alcohol; angst; bit o’ smut as a treat; blood-drinking if you squint; end of Act 1, hiatus to follow; this is extra cute to make up for the trauma of the last chapter and many of the ones to follow lmao; lightly proofread

Word Count: 8.5k

Listening to: Six Days at the Bottom of the Ocean - Explosions in the Sky, Bard Dance (from the BG3 soundtrack), I Want to Live (from the BG3 soundtrack)

Shadowheart’s shriek reverberated off the jagged cave walls around them. Its echo flung far beyond its origin.

“Áine, it’s freezing!” the cleric griped, waist-deep and shuddering in the dark water just off their campsite’s shore. Their commandeered boat bobbed at the dock nearby and a conjured netting laced with golden light roped off an area for them, stopping where the water became a bit too deep for an impromptu swimming lesson.

“Correct, so hurry up!” Áine cackled through chattering teeth, looking positively mad as she chafed her arm with one hand and held out her other. She’d plunged in completely straight away to try and acclimate to the water faster, but she wasn’t sure yet if that’d been her best bet. “Just like I showed you, you’ll be okay.”

“Why couldn’t we have done this when we were topside?” Shadowheart growled as she lowered herself further into the water, shuddering visibly as she mimicked the motions Áine had shown her and started to wade out to the waiting bard.

“Because at our only notable opportunity, you decided you’d rather try making out with me,” Áine remarked, dodging an armful of water that her friend flung at her for her cheek. “Hey, look at you! Only one arm left paddling and you didn’t sink!”

“Is that meant to be funny?” Shadowheart asked, her voice strained as she worked to keep her head above the water.

“Yes and no,” Áine said, smiling as she scooped Shadowheart up under her arms when the cleric managed to swim her way out to her. “I mean it when I say you’re getting the hang of this, you adjusted really well when you moved your arm to splash me.”

Shadowheart let Áine swim both of them back to the shore, her arms and legs wrapped around her friend like a toddler on her hip. She was gratified by the praise, but too cold to relish it. “You’re not going to make me do it again, are you?” she asked.

“No, we’re both goners if we stay out here any longer,” Áine said, shivering as she walked them back up the shoreline. “But I did want you to at least know the basics. Just in case.”

“I think I’m already a goner,” Shadowheart complained, her teeth chattering as she buried her face against Áine’s shoulder, desperate for warmth and only finding the bard’s wet shirt.

“I’ll save you!” Áine cried, sprinting back to the campfire while she and Shadowheart rattled out giggles between their violent shudders.

Gale was in his usual spot stooped over the cooking pot when the girls came tearing back up from the beach. “Mystra’s left nostril,” he swore with a chuckle as he braced for potential impact and any scattered showers that rained off them in passing.

Áine dodged past Gale, plopped Shadowheart down near Wyll, and seated herself next to Astarion, who gave her half-drowned form a horrified look. “You went in with all your clothes on?!”

“Look, it wasn’t our best plan, alright?” Áine griped back, getting as close to the fire as she could without setting herself ablaze.

Her heart warmed when she spotted Wyll snagging a blanket and draping it over Shadowheart’s vibrating shoulders from the corner of her eye. She’d seen them occasionally making eyes at each other over the past few days on their journey back to the circle and then to collect the enslaved gnomes and Nere’s head at the Grymforge. Being the romantic that Wyll was, he’d perfectly picked up on every opportunity she granted him to make a bit of a blush rise to Shadowheart’s face.

Meanwhile, her own lover—keeper of her soul, love of her life, et cetera—was cringing away from her dripping clothes and hair with something close to disdain. Áine gave him a withering look as Shadowheart thanked Wyll for his show of chivalrous care nearby. “See that? That’s the correct response,” she needled Astarion, mostly teasing him.

His eyes flickered past her to Wyll and Shadowheart. Astarion scoffed when he returned his eyes to her. “It’s not my fault you chose to give yourself hypothermia, darling,” he teased her back, his lips curling in a half-sneer.

Áine sniffed and glared, and Astarion only just had time to clock the calculation that flashed through her eyes before she pivoted and tackled him back into the dirt. Although she was attacking him, Astarion still managed to make sure she landed on top of him and didn’t hurt herself. He knew she was sturdier than he treated her, but he was protective of her to a fault and he’d not yet fully shaken the scare that had been their near-death at the spectator’s teeth and tentacles mere days ago at that point.

When she raised herself off him, her eyes dropped to the wet spot she’d left on his shirt, which had been her original goal for retaliation. What she hadn’t expected was for the moisture to soak from her shirt to his in an exact imprint of her breasts and stomach. Her features pulled tight as she fought off laughter, especially when Astarion looked down at himself and saw why she was suddenly so amused.

“Are you quite pleased with yourself?” Astarion scolded her, causing her to finally break apart into her hardly restrained fit of laughter. He tickled her sides until she fell off him, rolling to loom over her on the ground as he continued to playfully berate her for getting him all wet too.

Behind him, their friends’ eyes softened at the sight of them teasing each other and at how absent Astarion’s mask had been of late. Even just around them, he was finally starting to become more transparent in his opinions and feelings, little did he know. With a fond smirk, Gale loosed a rush of air from his palm that swept the clinging moisture from Shadowheart’s, Astarion’s, and Áine’s clothes. “Soup’s on!” he announced.

The news of supper brought their remaining companions to the fire and Astarion allowed Áine up after dropping a kiss to the tip of her nose. They reclaimed their seats beside the crackling blaze, assuming their newly practiced dinnertime juxtaposition while the broth and bread were parsed out.

There was next to nothing to hunt in the Underdark for Astarion and they expected it to be a similar situation when they passed into the shadow-cursed lands past the lift in the Grymforge. Because of that, Áine had been assisting their resident vampire more and more with his thirst and had even coaxed him out to “dine” with the larger group in recent evenings.

While Áine sat facing the fire, Astarion sat beside her but faced away from the flames, gratefully accepting her wrist when she offered it to him. There were times that he still preferred to make this trade snuggled up with her in his—their—tent, but there was also something strangely affirming about being able to join everyone for their dinnertime. He still occasionally felt anxious about it, but turning away for a bit of privacy helped. They all knew of his condition, but he was still wary of glancing up from his feeding and finding a horrified expression staring back at him.

Astarion licked her wound closed when he was done, gently squeezing her hand while he still held it in his. Áine extracted her hand just to gently press it against his cheek, drawing him sideways to tenderly kiss his hair. With Astarion taken care of, Áine began to assuage her own hunger with the soup and bread that Halsin had set down for her while she was tending to their vampire.

Astarion felt his new store of blood rush into his cheeks at the gesture, suddenly glad yet again that he wasn’t facing their companions. It felt so natural that, weeks back, he may have feared its ease. Now though he simply relished it. In a similar vein, he wouldn’t admit it, but there was more than a simple affirmation that came from feeling included here—fleetingly, he dared to wonder if this was what family had felt like once.

A sweeping, alien melody wove through the air above them, the faint shimmer of spores glittering when the embers caught them just so. “The gnomes must have made it back to the circle,” Áine inferred, smiling a little at the resonant expressions of joy and victory interspersed between the flowing melodies. “Spaw must’ve been told that Nere’s no more.”

“It’s strange how much can be understood from…well, could we even call it a language really?” Wyll wondered aloud, studying the clusters of spores as he bit into his bread.

“Music is its own language,” Áine insisted, mesmerized by the sounds. She felt Astarion turn back around beside her to face the fire again. “Some songs are just easier for us to understand.”

“It’s odd,” Shadowheart mused, snaring Áine’s gaze meaningfully. With the intensity of her stare, Áine half-expected the cleric to bring up something more dire, but she simply continued to speak on their surroundings. “Despite the allure of its dark beauty, I’d never ventured into the Underdark before. But it’s truly beautiful in so many unexpected ways.”

“I’ve been down here a handful of times, but never at length,” Áine admitted, faltering when she felt a prod at her tadpole. Unsure how exactly she knew, it felt, somehow, like it had come from Shadowheart’s.

Bewildered, Áine opened her mind and heard the cleric’s voice speak within her head. “Keep talking,” she instructed. “Just trust me.”

Áine cleared her throat and added almost mindlessly, “And mostly for supplies or to skim off the Zhentarim’s stashes. I really had no idea how far it expanded though and, as you’ve said, how lovely it can look.”

Gale thankfully picked up the conversation and allowed Áine to wonder at what Shadowheart was doing, sitting in her head like this between their parasites. She didn’t have long to wonder as a vision bloomed in her mind’s eye. Shadowheart’s vantage point became hers and through it, she saw…

Áine’s heart threatened to break under the heft of the emotions that flooded it.

Shadowheart kept her eyes trained on Áine and Astarion and, through her eyes, Áine saw herself glancing between Gale and Shadowheart while Astarion just looked at her.

His crimson eyes rounded with a gentle openness that had become more and more prominent in their time together, a far cry from the narrow, choreographed sneers he used to default to, which were different than his actual sneers (which, to be fair, she did still see a fair bit of). A faint, lingering ghost of a smile touched his perfectly bowed lips as he just watched her in what she could only define as fascination. She’d seen him look at her like that before, much more briefly, but it was something else to see them through someone else’s eyes when his guard was fully down.

“I told you,” Shadowheart informed her smugly.

Áine felt herself blush and then saw herself blush through the cleric’s shared gaze. “Thank you for that,” she told Shadowheart. “I’ll stop my spying though.”

“Understood,” Shadowheart replied and Áine heard the echo of a soft internalized chuckle in her head before the cleric fully withdrew and her mind was her own again.

She glanced over to Astarion, catching him in his doe-eyed stare and smiling toward him. He seemed unsure of how he felt about being caught, but his expression only incrementally changed as he traced the flush of her cheeks with his vibrant eyes. “You’re blushing,” he pointed out, a faint smirk curling the corner of his mouth.

Áine smiled, gently cupping his cheek. “And you’re lovely.” Astarion’s face warmed under her hand and she laughed. “Shall I point out that you’re blushing now too, or—?”

“Hush,” he chided her, glancing away to hide the flush of his face against one of his large, dextrous hands. Astarion chanced a glance back at her when she didn’t look away, finding her watching him with a mix of amusement and, if he was bold enough to presume it, love. His chest warmed over and he sighed, turning to meet her stare. “You, my dear, will be the second death of me.”

Áine’s smile turned a touch guilty. “Sorry.”

A soft puff of an exhalation exited Astarion’s nose, the barest beginning of a chuckle. “Don’t be.”

At some point in the night, someone broke into the wine stashes. A drink with the evening meal wasn’t unusual in the group, at least for the majority of their party, but there was a different sort of tension in the air that night. A tension of celebrating well-earned victories, of their looming progression into a new leg of their journey and likely the most dangerous yet, and the acknowledgment that, as ever, nothing was promised.

Karlach’s boisterous laugh ricocheted off the dark cavern walls, a bottle of ithbank clutched in her hand just long enough to take another swig and set it back down before her heat began to melt the glass. Áine laughed softly in turn, her head pleasantly swimmy while she let the cross-talk of several quiet camp conversations swirl around her like the most comfortable background noise. This was her new family and it truly felt like a family. Her only hope was that this sense would last through their journey into the cursed expanse of her birthplace, but she tried not to think about it. If she did, she’d spoil this taste of peace, herself.

Áine tilted her head back as Astarion approached, giving her a humored look after evaluating the half-empty bottle of mermaid whiskey near her hip. She gave him a playful gasp and mused aloud, “Look, the stars are out again!”

Astarion rolled his eyes and bent down to scoop her to her feet, eying her as she swayed a bit. “Are you stable?” he asked, holding back a laugh.

“Physically or mentally?” she asked, forcing a serious expression on her features that only half-succeeded. “Or emotionally?” Before he could answer, she gave a little flip of her hands. “No matter what you pick, the answer is ‘probably’?”

Astarion snorted. “Good enough for me,” he remarked, taking her hand. “Come.”

“Where are we going?” she asked, gently playing with his fingers while they walked. He led her down to the lakeshore, the prints she’d left earlier from running back to the fire with Shadowheart still faintly depressed in the wet sand.

Away from the light pollution of the fire, the Underdark’s makeshift sky blossomed with sprinkled light and color. The bioluminescent spores had swirled so voluminously from the circle just up the hill that they’d drifted down to their campsite, their gentle sweeping songs still lacing the air with palpable sensations of triumph. The spores in all their glowing glory patched a living starscape above them, the myconids’ singing in perfect syncopation with the flux of the motes that carried them.

Áine sighed, her heart clenching. “It’s so beautiful,” she said, still toying with Astarion’s fingers as they took in the view together. The black water lapped placidly against the sand nearby while the laughter and merriment of their friends still met their ears, just sweetly dampened by the rocky ledge separating the couple from them now.

“It is striking,” Astarion agreed, his eyes tracing past the dancing motes to the rocky ceiling above. “But it’s no replacement for real stars. For the moon. The sunlight.”

Áine glanced up at him. “What was it like?” she asked, holding his gaze when he looked down at her. “To feel the sun again for the first time in over 200 years and not burn?”

Astarion’s gaze unfocused as he remembered. “Terrifying. And then…exhilarating.” He sighed, his grip around her hand tightening with his impassioned tone. “The first instinct was to flee. Then the realization came that it would’ve been too late by that point—if I were going to burn, I would be burning. And then of course I wondered if I had died. Again. And then I just felt warm.”

Áine’s heart fluttered at the memory he painted, at how she imagined his cool skin would have felt being kissed by the sun again after so long. That flutter became a sting as it occurred to her that his previous sources of warmth in his new life would have all come at a cost—his only warm blood from rancid rats half-dead with disease, his only comfort from the tattered brown blanket he still had with him to this day or against a body he hadn’t chosen for himself.

She’d not known for the majority of her lifetime to crave sunlight and the underelf blood in her had shied from it, but ever since she’d escaped her old life, it had been a daily blessing to feel its rays. She’d been ungrateful, all things considered. Privileged. She’d never considered before meeting him how lucky she was to simply be allowed to exist in the daytime.

“You must miss it,” she suggested with open sympathy.

“I do,” he said. “This place is filled with color and its own sort of light, but it’s not quite the same. I’d just gotten the daylit world above us back, had just remembered for the first time in so, so long how much color there is in the world, and it’s gone again. For a while at least.”

“I used to be skeptical of your interest in keeping the parasite,” Áine said, which was no revelation to either of them. Her skepticism had never been hidden in their conversations. “I still am, but only because I worry about you. But I understand why you’d want to hold onto what it gives you.”

Astarion nodded. “It has protected me from the sun, from rushing water, from Cazador’s clutches, from everything the way nothing else ever has,” he agreed. The line of his mouth formed a more bitter curve. “The way no one else ever tried.”

Áine turned to face him, slipping her other hand into his as well. “I wish someone had. I would do…anything to be able to have helped you.”

Her conviction clawed at him. “You hardly existed for the majority of it, darling,” he reminded her.

“I know,” she said, her shoulders giving a helpless lift. “But I can’t help but feel let down on your behalf. The strong have a duty to protect those in need.”

“I thought it was ‘to protect the weak’?” he countered.

“It’s too much of a generalization,” she said, frowning. “There is no weakness in needing help. The strongest people are born from positions of weakness.”

“Perhaps that’s why they’re left to rot,” Astarion mused. “The ‘strong’ of society has never been made up of true advocates. They retain their position for themselves. This is the way the world turns.”

The bard sighed. “You aren’t wrong. I know you’re not wrong because I’ve seen it firsthand, too. But I wish you were. I hope someday the world changes enough that you are.”

Astarion scoffed, but it was softened by a faint smile. Despite the fractured state of his lover’s rose-colored glasses, she still managed to look through the pink-tinted shards when she gazed upon a world he saw as forsaken. He shouldn’t have been so discouraging of it, he supposed. She may not have given him the time of day had she not maintained so much quiet hope in other people. Still, when he watched her extend that goodwill to others that he wasn’t so sure would return it, it made him uneasy.

Disliking the somber air that had fallen over their heads, especially considering why he’d guided her out there in the first place, Astarion freed one of Áine’s hands, using the other to swing her into a little spin. The tipsy bard stumbled a little over the sudden movement but righted herself easily enough and regarded him with curiosity when he drew her close and placed his hand against her waist.

“Look, I don’t profess to be any sort of twinkle-toes like our Wyll,” he said as he guided her through some slowed-down dance steps. “However what sort of former society elite would I be if I didn’t at least know my way around a simple waltz?”

Áine grinned, looping her free arm around his shoulders and happily leaning into his lead. “I had no idea,” she said, her cheeks flushed a decadent red.

“Nor I, to be honest,” Astarion admitted as he spun her again, smiling as she gracefully followed his hand and returned to him in one fluid motion. “Not until I specifically tried to evoke the muscle memory.”

“What inspired that?” she asked.

Astarion shrugged and simply replied, “You told me you enjoy dancing,” as if it were all the reason he needed. Maybe it was.

Áine’s heart melted and it translated to her expression. It stirred that familiar warmth in Astarion’s chest, but he didn’t shy away from it. He just continued to lead her through their dance on the lakeshore, twirling her this way and that and humoring her by letting her spin him on occasion, too. She hummed them a soft melody to dance to and they swore the myconids’ melodies around them shifted to follow her song, their disembodied singing taking a slower, romantic tone.

And leave it to their drunk friends to, as Astarion at least first thought, ruin it.

“Well, isn’t this adorable,” Shadowheart mused as she and the others filed around the corner, clearly having a little spy on the couple until they’d been spotted by the vampire. “Volo, why don’t you give them some music?” She hiccuped partway through her question.

“If it wasn’t abundantly clear from my, er, performance at that goblin hovel, I am no bard,” Volo insisted to the heavily imbibed cleric. “However, that’s never stopped me before.” From the self-proclaimed expert-on-everything’s extended hand rose a transparent blue replica of that same hand, the apparition then parting into two while a similarly ghostly violin settled in its hold.

“Room for an ensemble?” Gale wondered as he, with admittedly more finesse, also conjured a pair of mage hands, his positioning a flute between their magical fingers.

“Can’t let us have one moment, can you?” Astarion groused as Áine giggled and the phantasmic floating appendages with their instruments began to sync into a rendition of the classic “Bard Dance” song.

Instead of shying from Astarion’s theatrical upset, the conjured ensemble and their beloved party swept into the heart of the song. Karlach shuffled her feet, kicking up small clouds of sand as she danced on her own, at least until Wyll stepped in line with her and followed her often idly improvised steps after a bit of quick study. With a fond look from the sidelines, Halsin stood with Lae’zel and clapped in time with the melody. Even the githyanki beside him seemed to relax enough to enjoy the admittedly absurd scene before her. Scratch and the owlbear cub ran circles around Karlach’s dancing feet and Wyll left the tiefling with her new partners to snag Shadowheart and tug her away from her perch for a dance.

“Wyll!” the cleric cried, laughing as she half-struggled to twist away from the sudden spotlight. Astarion was gearing up to mock her when he felt similarly swept up in a more upbeat dance.

“This is not what I had in mind,” Astarion groused with less fervor down at his little bard, who was now leading him into step with the new tempo and with the silliest grin plastered across her whiskey-flushed face. “Unhand me!” he haughtily demanded, but the joking demand crumbled with a laugh.

As the myconids’ songs intertwined with their merriments and laughter, harmonizing with the conjured melody with renewed felicity, the two resident ancients stood watch, observing the beings on the beach that, compared to them, were all infants in this corporeal plane. It was a rare moment of unbridled happiness and fun before them, made only more rare to the knight and the aged god who both knew to some degree what was to come.

“They shall remember this,” Withers murmured to the ghostly knight nearby. “Thine fates have formed nigh impossible junctures, a tangled web extending ever further into darkness.”

“Aye,” the knight rumbled, his arms crossed before him with his palms stacked atop the hilt of his blade. Incandescent eyes watched the smiles that blossomed from each strange being down on the sand, watching the half-drow bard prancing her vampire partner around in time to the bouncy music. She threw her head back and laughed at something he said and he smiled down at her as if she were the very sun he missed so much—positively enraptured and basking in her warmth. “Isn’t it all the more prudent then that they have this? The darkness will wait.”

Withers gave a grumble of acknowledgment. “And wait, it shall.”

No one noticed the line that was crossed that turned the energetic, musically drunken “night” in the Underdark into a messy, sleepy drunken “night.” It was a line that was always crossed in these sorts of scenarios, but sometimes there was at least one person able to pinpoint which goblet was the “one goblet too many.”

Perhaps Astarion, the only sober individual left down on the lakeshore by that point, may have been able to had he not gotten wrapped up in Áine’s charms and opted not to leave for the remainder of the night. Carefully sidestepping over a prone and passed-out Karlach and then past Wyll, who’d dozed off slumped against a rock, Áine was having to keep a hand pressed to her mouth to stifle her giggles at the state of their friends.

Astarion relieved her of that duty when they made it back up the short path to camp, capturing her lips and kissing her through her tipsy laughter, smirking as he felt her become far more interested in kissing him back than paying attention to where she was going. After the second time she stumbled over her own feet, Astarion scooped her off of them to carry her the rest of the way to their tent. Her legs wrapping around his waist to hold on drew a quiet growl from the base of his throat.

As his kisses grew hungrier, his tongue parted her plush lips and explored her yielding mouth in tender, languid strokes. He felt heat lance through him at the muffled sound and sensation of her moan, but he was wary of that heat, too. As he ducked through their tent door and took them both down to the floor, seated while keeping her straddling his lap, Astarion tried to put his feelings into context, finding it more difficult when Áine was giggly and encouraging and strewn across his thighs.

Bleeding Hells, he wanted to fuck her but was wary of what they’d discussed. The sensation he felt at times of “going through the motions” would often come partway through when he couldn’t find it in himself to, as he saw it, ruin the mood by stopping. He’d withdraw within himself, present but not, until it was over. He wouldn’t jeopardize the high of euphoria he was feeling just from kissing her by being thoughtless about this.

Unhelpfully, Áine smirked into their kiss and purposely cut her lower lip against one of his fangs, raising herself up and pressing herself against him as she tilted his head back and kissed him hard enough for those small beads of blood to trickle into his mouth. Astarion growled again, equal parts feral in lust and exasperated by trying to be the adult in the room. In retaliation, he clapped a hand against her ass just hard enough to startle her. The muffled yelp that passed from her lips past his made him chuckle.

One step at a time, he decided, sucking the cut on her lip until it was bruised and then sealing it with a purposeful flick of his tongue.

Astarion gripped Áine’s hips and shifted her off his lap and onto her bedroll, snorting softly at the pout she gave him. “None of that, darling,” he rasped.

Áine smiled cheekily and nodded. “No, no, I get it. Sorry, I just—Astarion!”

“Hm, yes?” he murmured, already half-done with untying her shirt laces, nimble fingers flying down the fabric collar.

“What are you doing?” Áine asked, suddenly breathless. She looked up at him with a mix of curiosity, concern, and arousal. He could smell that she was already wet for him, that familiar, decadent perfume always doing the most dangerously delicious things to his mind. One step at a time, he repeated fervently, his hands fisting a little harder than necessary in Áine’s shirt as he freed her from it.

“Is this okay?” Astarion asked, practiced hands tracing down to the ties of her pants next.

“Well, yes, but—” She gave a surprised grunt when he managed to untie her trousers and pull them off her in a few small, simple movements. “But what about you? Are you okay?”

Astarion, still fully clothed and intending to stay that way, traced her form with his eyes, pupils blown out with his craving and shadowing the crimson hue of his gaze. He leaned forward, crawling just a little closer to her as he murmured, “I’m very okay with this, my love.”

For just a second, Áine wondered if he’d just forgotten to take off his clothes. She only had a second to wonder before he smirked down at her, wrapped his large hands around her calves, and tugged her forward so she fell onto her back into the pillows.

Suddenly self-aware at how exposed she was in this new vulnerable position, Áine knocked her knees together, her face burning up. Astarion gave her a chiding glance, his fingertips tracing up her shins to those offending knees, tracing the caps. “I, um…,” Áine stammered, not sure what to say. Whatever this was was certainly new to her and desire fanned the growing flames in her belly, but she still worried. “Are you… You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, you know.”

Astarion’s smirk grew wider and his restless fingertips pried her knees apart. “I know, darling,” he husked, bowing lower as he slipped her legs over his shoulders. “Anything else?”

His last question had sent his cool breath fanning across her core and it shot a shiver up her spine. “Um,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she sent an embarrassed glance to the tent ceiling, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Finally, she let out a nervous giggle and surrendered. “I-I guess not—oh!”

He’d wasted no time the moment she handed him her remaining control. He was on her like a man starving, his hands digging into her hips to hold her in place as he devoured her. Astarion had never been more present during an act of carnal intimacy, learning his way along her glistening folds by chasing every whimper and moan that he helped ease from her lips.

Astarion had pulled her closer to him, adjusting the angle of her hips as he swirled his tongue against her swollen clit, when he heard her clap a hand over her mouth to stifle her building moans. He made a disgruntled sound against her, pulling his mouth off her bud with a purposefully lewd suck to tease her as he reached up for her wrist. “Ah-ah, darling,” he tutted up at her, brushing the bridge of his nose over her mound and eliciting a small spasm that rocked through her legs. Astarion smirked, pleased at the effect he had on her. “I want to hear you.”

“But our friends,” she whined, casting a furtive glance toward the tent door. “What if—”

“Our friends know enough to excuse some noise every so often,” he chuckled, laving a slow line up her slit and flicking his eyes up toward her face. He felt blessed to meet her eyes as he did and more blessed to see how flustered watching him go down on her made her. “The ones who aren’t blacked out for the eve will be reassured that I take good care of you, won’t they?”

Áine could feel her pulse hammering in her neck, truly speechless for perhaps the first time in her entire life. Gods above, he was going to ruin her like he’d accused her of ruining him. She was already practically shaking. If she didn’t try to stifle the moans he was pulling out of her, she’d wake the entire Underdark! Just the thought was enough to make her panic a little. “But I—”

“Won’t they?” he repeated in a firmer tone that still came out almost like a purr.

“I—,” Áine started, slowly letting her head fall back into place against the pillows. “Um…yes?”

“That’s my good girl,” he murmured, rewarding her with another swirl of his tongue against her clit. He felt her thighs tighten against his head the slightest bit and chuckled softly. “That do something for you, darling?”

“Apparently?!” she squeaked, learning more about herself tonight than she was learning about him.

Astarion couldn’t help the laugh that trickled past his lips, moving the hand he still had snared in his to cover one of her breasts. “Busy those hands somewhere other than your mouth, sweetheart,” he mumbled before returning his focus between her legs.

Áine looked down at where he’d left her to cup her own breast, at first thinking it a little unorthodox but trusting his lead. She’d played with herself a little in the past, but given her minimal interest in sex before catching feelings for him, it hadn’t done much for her at the time. She might’ve laughed at herself for the doubtful look she cast down at her own chest if she weren’t so self-conscious. Experimentally, Áine rolled the hardened peak of her nipple between her fingertips, her throat convulsing when the sensation was elevated by the havoc Astarion was wreaking below her with little more than his lips and silver tongue.

She’d no sooner thought that than he sank one long finger inside her and she reflexively moved to stifle her sounds again. Her hands stilled as he grumbled at her again and she exhaled a shuddering breath as she followed his instructions and melded her palms against her aching breasts, feeling silly until any coherent thought she could’ve reserved for self-depreciation became impossible.

Astarion surprised her by moaning against her sensitive juncture, seeming to be enjoying this as much as she was as he continued to lick at her clit while he pumped his finger steadily into her heat. Áine had devolved into a writhing, mewling mess at his ministrations, her back arching as he added a second finger to plunge into her warmth.

He kissed near her bud, careful not to overstimulate her. “You take me so well, my sweet,” he murmured praise against her core, adjusting his fingers to curl upward and stroke along that magical spot at the front of her inner walls.

Áine’s hips bucked of their own accord when he stroked inside her, a wild gasp tearing from her throat that became a loud, wanton moan she couldn’t hold back if she wanted to. Astarion groaned, feeling his cock twitch, already straining against his pants. “There she is,” he purred, guiding her to her peak. “Sing for me, little bard.”

“Oh, gods, Astarion,” she whined, her hands wandering from her chest to thread through his curls as he returned his mouth to her clit. The combined sensation of his mouth on her and his fingers in her was overwhelming and she was sure she’d never swept toward coming undone so intensely before. “I… I think I—”

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Come for me, love.”

Those little words snapped her final threads and she shattered with a cry, gasping his name as she gradually came down, doing everything she could not to grip his pretty curls as she tensed and unraveled from the inside. Astarion eased her through her orgasm, slowing his touches until he leaned his head away, watching the slow withdrawal of his fingers from her clenching cunt, wet with her pleasure.

A genuinely rakish smirk crossed his lips as he pressed the pad of his thumb against her inflamed clit, murmuring understanding as she whimpered and knowing she must be terribly sensitive after all this. He eased his hand away after the applied pressure succeeded in sending a quick succession of aftershocks through her core, tearing a couple more delicious mewls from her. Astarion raised his two glistening fingers to his lips and slowly sucked them clean of her arousal, giving her a smug smile as he wiped his mouth.

Áine was finding it difficult to form any sort of cohesive thought pattern, but she at least had the wherewithal to form some words around her panting. Her eyes followed Astarion as he shifted her quaking legs off his shoulders and crawled up beside her to lie down. “Thank you?” she expressed with the faint air of a question, not sure if that was an appropriate response to what just happened. Astarion smiled at her affectionately and chuckled, leaning in to kiss her forehead. “But what about you?”

The extremely self-satisfied vampire propped his head up on his hand to peer at her. “What about me?” he countered, having a feeling that he knew what she was going to say.

“Can I… Can’t I do anything for you?” she asked, subconsciously rubbing her legs together as the echoes of his touch continued to ghost along the vee of her thighs. A touch of anxiety feathered in her foggy thoughts, worried suddenly that this was unfair to him even though he’d initiated it.

“Not a thing, not just yet. You can let that perfect body unwind and get some sleep,” he murmured against her temple, pulling her in to curl against his side and tugging the blankets up over her exposed flesh. He kissed her, lingering at her hairline and tenderly stroking her back until he felt her start to relax. “Thank you for trusting me, darling,” Astarion added in that same low timbre, not sure if she was still awake to hear it and not minding in either case.

Áine stirred a few solid hours’ worth of sleep after they’d retired to their tent, her dark eyes opening slowly and taking in her surroundings. Her gaze flickered upward to Astarion’s face, noting that he was still in some stage of reverie, both of his arms wrapped snugly around her. It took her a moment to remember why she’d awakened without her clothes, but as soon as she did, her face warmed over and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

And then there was that inkling of guilt being quietly resurrected. The scales felt tipped last night, at least in the way she’d come to understand intimate relations must be balanced. She knew beyond a doubt that he’d done what he’d done for her because he’d wanted to and he’d explicitly said that he didn’t want her to reciprocate just yet, but it still felt wrong to her. Maybe the way she’d learned about sex up until this point was skewed, too.

It was necessary, she realized, to be honest with herself. Last night just being about her while her male partner didn’t necessarily get off made her feel like she hadn’t done her due diligence as a woman. It was archaic and foolish and she knew precisely where it came from—watching the way her parents interacted, all the accumulative guilt trips she’d received in previous “romantic” dynamics if you could call them that. It’d taken her a while to settle down from their activities not because she wasn’t satisfied, but because she felt like she’d slacked off. Her desire for him, to please him and make him feel good, came from a place of loving him, but there was that lurking anxiety that came from darker times.

Áine was pulled from her unsettled thoughts when she felt the pad of Astarion’s thumb smooth across the furrow in her brow. She met his now-open eyes and he smiled down at her. “Well, hello, beautiful,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead and tightened his arms to draw her in closer.

The knot in her chest eased a little just from the timbre of his voice. It slunk through her walls and curled up in her bone marrow, assuring her she was known. “I believe that’s meant to be my line,” she noted, running a hand gently through his silver curls. She gently stroked up the elven line of his ear and he shivered, giving her a pointed look. Áine just offered him a playfully smug smile. “How was your rest?”

“It was quiet,” Astarion murmured, tracing aimless patterns on her back. “Preferrable really to what it can be.” Áine had never envied the reverie state that replaced sleep for her full-blooded brethren. The nightmares she’d experienced in her first couple of years of freedom had been more than enough. Meditating through her actual memories or more vivid renditions of the things she suffered in sleep just sounded like pure hell. “Yours?”

“The same,” she said, giving her legs a little stretch before entangling them with his again. The moment stretched like she had, long and comfortably, until Áine’s insecurities crept up on her again. She wasn’t going to bring any of it up, but she could tell that he knew something was amiss when their eyes met again and she didn’t want to leave him to draw his own conclusions. “Was last night okay?” she finally asked.

“Whatever do you mean, my love?” he asked, adjusting to his side to face her and shifting her head from his shoulder to the crook of his arm.

“A couple of things, I guess,” she said, holding eye contact with him when she wanted to duck away. “The first is that I want to check on you. I know we checked in at the time and things felt right in the moment, but do you still feel good about it?”

Astarion’s eyes softened and he cupped her cheek to pull her in for a tender kiss. “Thank you,” he murmured against her lips before they parted. “I feel fine. And I feel good that I feel fine.”

Áine’s smile blossomed anew. “I’m glad. No regrets?”

“Of course not,” Astarion mumbled, almost aghast. “Let’s clear one thing completely, darling, I’ve never regretted a single thing we’ve done. Not one. I’ve just had…reactions, I suppose, at times that I haven’t felt were fair and that had nothing to do with us.” He slanted a brow at her. “Can you trust me on that?”

“Absolutely,” she said, no time lapsed for a second thought.

“Good,” he said, smoothing her hair back from her face. “Now, what else?”

Áine’s eyes fluttered closed as he ran his fingers through her hair, briefly losing her train of thought. It may have been better if that particular train of thought had stayed derailed, but she knew she needed to work on this personal insecurity she hadn’t even realized she had. She sighed and confessed, “I feel…guilty, I suppose, that last night was all about me.”

Astarion scoffed, looking confused when she opened her eyes again to peer at him. “Why would that be, my love?” he asked, experimentally stroking the line of her ear to see if it had the same effect on her that it had on him. She gave a little hum of contentment but she didn’t seem to be as sensitive there as he was.

Áine sighed again and it was a shorter, more frustrated sound. “I’m not sure I know how to put it into words in a way that doesn’t sound foolish,” she admitted.

“Just try,” Astarion suggested.

“When did our roles reverse for these sorts of conversations?” Áine wondered, leaning in to brush her nose against his.

She kept it to herself to avoid inadvertently embarrassing him, but she was immensely proud of how he was helping her navigate this. As much as he still defaulted to certain patterns while they were traveling or conversing with other people, it was clear he was actively trying to meet her in the middle when it came to handling things between them and she appreciated it more than she could properly express.

Astarion smirked. “Just now. Don’t count on it for too terribly long though, darling. I’m the hot mess of our pairing and I’m not keen to give that up yet. Far more fun, you see.”

Áine laughed, relenting when he just looked at her expectantly. “Fine,” she murmured, toying with the collar of his shirt and studying the laces as she blurted out, “I think in my limited experience with, well, having sex with men, there’s been an expectation that the man’s pleasure is more important than anything else. So I felt and still kind of feel guilty that you took care of me so diligently and I didn’t do anything for you.” She stuttered a little, quickly adding, “Even though I know you didn’t want me to and that’s completely fine! It’s just the, uh…principle, I guess. Gods, that made no sense…”

“No, it did,” Astarion murmured, wearing a thoughtful expression when she dared to meet his eyes again. He playfully pinched one of her flushed cheeks before musing, “Troubled thoughts when it comes to carnal pleasure… I believe that’s meant to be my line.”

“I’m serious, Astarion,” Áine laughed, although she did appreciate the joke.

“I know you are, sweet girl,” he mumbled into her hair as he pulled her into his chest. She wrapped her arm around his back, forgetting to not rest her hand against his covered scars. He realized he didn’t mind so much anymore. “You needn’t feel guilty for that. But I do think I understand your meaning. For whatever it’s worth, I don’t see our coupling as just a means to a climax. I think I used to think of sex in that sense, long ago, before it became painful territory, but not with you.”

Áine’s eyes were getting watery and she was just glad his face was buried in her hair and he couldn’t see. She tried to ignore the realization that even if he couldn’t see her getting teary-eyed, he could probably still smell the saline. It was hard to obscure much from his senses. “I’ll try my best to remember that,” she murmured. “Thank you for spelling it out for me. This isn’t an affirmation I expected to need.”

Astarion nodded, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs. “If it helps, my dear, I had a grand time,” he murmured, chuckling when he felt her face heat up against his cold cheek. She grumbled something barely discernable about him giggling at her expense, causing him to draw back with a dramatic gasp, which was when he finally saw that her eyes had gone glossy. “Believe it or not, love, for once I’m not exaggerating,” he insisted, unable to resist flashing her a cheeky smirk. His tone dropped to a purr as he nuzzled into her throat again and whispered, “I love all the little sounds you make for me. That the only word you can piece together as you fall apart is my name…”

“Okay, okay,” Áine stammered, beet-red. As she tried to roll away and get up, her vampire just snared her by her waist and pulled her back against him. “Astarion!”

“Just like that, darling girl,” he teased her in a sultry murmur, his tongue darting out to trace the curve of her ear. He was only further encouraged when it pulled a shiver from her smaller frame.

“You’re the worst,” Áine laughed, covering her reddened face with her hands.

“Not the worst at that, apparently,” he continued to rib her, just wriggling with her when she tried to free herself. She only ended up getting more tangled in him.

“No, you’re arguably one of the best at that and the worst part is you know it!” Áine whined. She couldn’t help but laugh when she felt his lips curve into a grin against her nape.

After he’d sobered from his teasing, Astarion traced a line up the back of her neck with the tip of his nose, kissing her hair again. “I enjoyed myself as much, if not more than I would have if we’d done more,” he informed her. “While it was difficult not to jump right in and hope for the best, I felt completely present during all of it. I’m just not quite out of the ‘motions’ with myself yet. What we did was perfect.”

Áine nodded, tilting her head to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m glad that we both enjoyed ourselves,” she murmured. “And I’m glad that you respected your boundaries. And I suppose all I can add is, well, the moment I can do something for you—”

He chuckled and kissed the rest of her statement off her lips. “I promise you will be the first to know.”

After finally making peace with rising and continuing on their way and jostling their more hungover companions from their slumbers—some of whom had eventually found their way back to their tents and some of whom had accidentally camped out on the beach—the tents were packed and the supplies secured for their short jaunt back to the circle and then for the last leg of their passage through the Underdark.

Despite knowing why they were swinging back through Spaw’s territory, Áine still picked up her rucksack as usual, flinging it open in search of her mint pouch only to shriek and drop it back to the ground.

Clutching one hand to her forehead that was somewhere between a facepalm and a way to brace herself, Áine groaned aloud at her staring friends, “Gods above, everyone, get ready to go. I need this nasty drow head out of my bag!”

Next chapter: Chapter 19, "Last Light"

End of Act 1!

Taking a hiatus to continue outlining and drafting into Act 2. Thank you for reading and for all the kind comments and feedback! x

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