#summer sleepover! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beybaldes · 8 months

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It hits different cause it's you

summer sleepover masterlist

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary : “passionate kissing, pressed up against a wall.” Requested by anon.

contebt warning: one use of yn, throw up, Jamie being insanely jealous, Roy being a big brother figure, angst In the form of Jamie being self deprecating to fluff, allusions to smut but non written.

There was not a square inch of the Crown and Anchor that wasn't buzzing with life; the whole Richmond team, players and otherwise, were crammed into the tiny, town centre pub.

"Hey, who's that?" Jamie didn't recognise the tall blonde that had his arm around your shoulders, prompting him to sharply nudge Sam in his side, attempting to gain some insight as to who he was. Obviously, he wasn't a member of the team or the staff, he knew that much, but if someone had brought him as their plus one, it was rude of him to try and make moves on his friends friend. Jamie nearly spat his drink out at Sam's words. "They have a boyfriend?"

"Well, boyfriend is a strong word really, they've just seen each other a few times." Roy added, now suddenly beside Jamie and Sam with a frown firmly on his face. Even though it was a familiar sight, it had an even darker twinge to it then usual.

"And how would you know that?" Jamie scoffed, arms folding tighter across his chest as he watched the guy pull you over to the bar, his arm wrapped around you, guiding you through the crowd.

"They told me." Roy answered shortly with a shrug of his shoulders. "Though they also told me the guys a fucking prick." Now that had caught Jamie's attention. With each word that slipped past Roy's lips, Jamie could recognise the look of disproval more and more. "Forgot to show up for one of their dates and they had to run home in the fucking rain."

"Fucking prick." Jamie half expected some comment from Roy about how he, himself, was a prick, but it never came, him so focused on burning a hole into the head of the blonde who had his best friend - though Roy would never admit to you being his best friend - entranced.

"You should go and save them Jamie." Sam suggested, a smile pulling at his lips as he nudged Jamie's side teasingly. "They deserve better than him."

"What? And they deserve me? Right." Jamie scoffed, taking a swig of his drink as he continued to stare at the scene before him, unease filling his stomach as he dwelled on the way your smile filled your face and the way your shirt defined everything perfectly.

"Cut that shit out." Surprisingly, that came from Roy. "You're...well...you're a fucking half decent guy, Tartt. Y/n would be lucky to have you."

"Aw, Roy." Jamie cooed, reaching up to pinch at Roy's cheeks like you would a cute baby. Though before he could make contact, Roy had slapped his hand away, a scowl settling on his lips "You're so kind."

"Fuck off." Roy left at that, walking across the room to meet you and your date for the night at the bar.

"Hey, Angel." Roy saddled up next to you at the bar, slipping a hand around your waist and pulling you into a side hug. When you pulled him into a proper one, he took the opportunity to glare daggers at your date, who, in great shock to Roy, just glared right back. There was no way he was letting you date this guy.

"Roy, you know Jake." When you pulled away from the hug, Jake was quick to put his arm around your waist in a way that screamed controlling to Roy.

Jake. Jamie. Jamie. Jake. There was no way you'd picked the blonde on coincidence; and though Roy would rather bubble wrap you up and put you in a cupboard so no one and nothing could ever get to you, if you were going to be with anyone, he'd rather you be with Jamie. The thought knocked him sick. "Yeah. I do."

"I can't fucking believe this shit man." Jamie couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene before him. Roy seemed to be being more amicable with this random guy you were seeing then he'd ever been with him, and he'd just quite loudly proclaimed how much of a dickhead he thought he was. He just couldn't wrap his head around it.

What was there to this guy that Jamie didn't have? Why couldn’t you like Jamie the way he liked you? Why did you have to look so good in that shirt? Why hadn’t you told him but had seemed to tell Sam and Roy? Too many unanswered questions were swarming around his head. Roy clearly approved more of this stranger then he did of Jamie - and even though he'd blatantly told him otherwise seconds ago, the fact he was even entertaining a conversation with him made Jamie quickly forget it. Never once did it cross his mind that maybe Roy was entertaining the conversation because he cared about you.

Jamie felt like he couldn't breath more and more with each second that passed that he watched the three of you converse. It was all too much for one night. Roy liked him less then the dick who didn't show up for your date and made you walk home in the rain, he'd confirmed you didn't feel the same way about him that he felt about you, Mae had put up some disco lights that were stopping him from seeing straight, and the vanilla vodka he'd consumed was making his stomach churn. "I'm gonna be sick."

Jamie didn't hear Sam call after him when he sprinted from his side in the direction of the pubs door, he didn't hear Roy call after him when he barged past the three of you to get out of the pub, and he didn't see your concerned gaze that followed him until he'd disappeared from your vision.

Roy made a promise to be right back, taking a step away from you and Jake after calling down Mae for a glass of water. When you pieced together where he was going, you took the glass from his hand, appreciating the way the condensation cooled the palm of your hand. "No, it's okay Roy. I'll go check on him."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, course. Be right back Jake." You didn't wait for his response, turning for the door almost instantly. Thankfully, Jamie's actions and your want to see him had given Roy the opportunity that he'd been waiting for.

"Let's have a chat Jake, yeah?"

"Jamie!" You called out when you stepped outside of the pub. When you didn't immediately see him, you went to call out his name again, only stopping at a loud wrenching sound that was coming from the side of the building. "Holy shit, are you okay?"

Jamie pulled his shirt sleeve over his hand, wiping at his mouth then retuning it to his side. His other arm rested above his head, allowing him to balance himself against the wall as he hunched over. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine babe, go back inside."

Taking steps closer to Jamie's side, you made sure to avoid the mess he'd made on the floor, rubbing one hand in circles against his back. When his heaving had finally stopped, you wrapped an arm around him, slowly guiding him to sit on the step of the door that led into the kitchens. "C'mon."

Silently, you handed him the glass of water, letting him drink it before speaking. “What's wrong Jamie?"

"What do you meant what's wrong I'm-" Jamie's words fell short as he looked at you. Clearly, you didn't plan on taking any bullshit from him tonight. At his failure to provide a response fast enough, you nudged your knee against his, keeping the side of your leg pressed tightly against his after. Jamie let out a sigh, running a hand down his face. "I just got in my own head. That's all. And then with the vanilla vodka, and the lights, and so many people talking, it went to shit."

Jamie's heart nearly stopped as you threaded your fingers into his hair, pushing it back for him and readjusting his headband. Even when you'd fixed his hair for him, your hand remained in it, resting against the back of his neck and scratching at the hair there. "What did you get in your head about Jay?"

This wasn't real. The vodka had clearly got to him and he was experiencing some kind of deluded, fever ridden, dream. A too hard tug on his hair ground him back in the moment; this was definitely real and you were definitely playing with his hair. He was so fucking in love with you. "Nothing important, don't worry about it, go have a good night with your boyfriend."

"It's important to you, so it's important to me." Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How you had no idea what you were doing to him, he was clueless. Jamie could've sworn up and down that right then his heart was beating a metre out of his chest - how could you not see it too? "And, also, he's not my boyfriend."

"He's not?"

"No." A weight had been lifted from Jamie's shoulders that he hadn't realised was there. For the first time since he'd noticed you under the arm of whoever it had been, he felt like he could breathe. "We've been out a few times but, honestly, I'm not really feeling it, he's a bit of a dick."

"I know. Roy told me."

"Oh did he?” You asked, your head titling in a way that made the dim street light accentuate all your features. It made your eyes glimmer and Jamie had to resist the urge to kiss you. “Fucker doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut."

A laugh rumbled through Jamie’s chest and he was certain your presence alone had made everything better. God, if you’d let him, he’d never leave your side. "I’m all good now, if you want to go back in, I think im just gonna head home."

"Let's go." Your hand moved down from his hair and slotted into his hand, intertwining your fingers and squeezing. Jamie took your action as a sign, allowing you to lead him to your car without a thought spared as to how your date would get home, what Roy was doing to him right now, or what anyone would think of your shared absence. All he cared about was the fact his hand was in yours and that it remained that way the whole ride to his house.

He opened the door for you and then made a bee line for the bathroom with you hot on his heels. As he brushed his teeth several times over, forcing the taste of vomit out of his mouth, you took a seat on his counter. When Jamie spat out his final lot of toothpaste, he turned to you with a minty fresh smile. “So, your ‘not boyfriend,’ that’s definitely not going anywhere?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely not.” You answered honestly, jumping down from the counter and walking in step with Jamie down his hallway. “Besides, I kind of have a thing for someone else. He was the BTEC version, if I’m honest.”

“Really?” Jamie asked casually, as though his heart hadn’t been crushed for a second time tonight, this time in what should’ve been the safety of his own home. “So, what was he like? Aside from being a huge dick, obviously.”

“Obviously.” You confirmed, a laugh slipping past your lips as your lingered in Jamie’s doorway, not quite ready to go home yourself yet. “Oh, well, you know. He plays a lot of football, not too bad at it too, he’s from somewhere up north so he’s got this sexy twinge of an accent.” If Jamie didn’t know better, he’d think you were describing him. “And get this. His name? Jake Heart.”

Jamie had never been sure if heaven was real, but if must’ve been, because he knew if it was, this would be his idea of it. When you said you were going out with the worse version of who you really liked, he never in a million years would’ve thought you really wanted to be with him - even as much as he hoped it. It was like all of his dreams were coming true and his life was finally, fully, piecing together.

“Me.” Jamie gasped, taking a step closer to you. “You like me. I’m the one you like.”

“Yeah, doofus.” You took a step closer to him, sliding your arms up his chest and over his shoulder, placing your hands in his hair like they had been on the doorstep of the pub. He was still fully convinced this was one of those good dreams that make you regret setting an alarm the night before. “Was kind of hoping you’d have caught on by now, but, it is what it is.”

Jamie slipped his arms around your waist, connecting his hands over the small of your back. “So, if you like me, does that mean we can, like, be a couple and stuff?”

“Depends what you have in mind when you say ‘and stuff.’” The coy smile on your lips had a smirk pulling on Jamie’s. God, he couldn’t fucking contain himself around you, and he hoped he would never have to again after today.

Jamie pulled you flush against him, pressing his lips firmly to yours, and squeezing your hips, slipping his tongue into your mouth at the gasp that he pulled out of you. Carefully, he manoeuvred you away from his doorway, kicking it closed behind you, and pushing you against his hallway wall. One of his hands quickly moved to cup the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to keep you from knocking against the cold plaster and to kiss you even more firmly. He didn’t hold back on his actions, squeezing and rubbing and nipping and sucking on every bit of skin he could reach as he pulled himself away from your lips and made his way down your neck.

As he pulled away for air, his forehead resting against your own and his chest heaving, he suddenly became nervous again. “Something like that, I don’t know, only if you’d like it.”

You pressed a fervent kiss to his lips, knocking the air from his lungs before he’d even had the chance to regain it. “I’d like that very much, Jay.” Jamie stared at you dreamily, so in love with you and you didn’t even know it yet. He couldn’t wait for the day that’d come when he’d finally, fully, tell you. “Couldn’t help but notice you closed the door though Jay, you wanting to figure out what more of that ‘stuff’ looks like, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that very much.” Jamie used your position against the wall to his benefit, moving his hands to hold your waist as he dropped to his knees before you, ready to sing praises between your legs. “Think you’ll like it very much too.”

While the walls of Jamie’s hallway were permanently scarred by the whimpers from your lips and the scratches of your nails against the wall, Roy and Jake sat in the crown and anchor.

“- and you’re not fucking good enough for them. So, you’re going to disappear from their phone, and from the face of the fucking earth for all I care, and not be a fucking duck about it either, yeah.”

Jake was shaking in his seat, and even though Sam had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to butt in the conversation for the past 30 minutes, he never got the chance to. Jake had stood from his seat and left the pub without so much as a goodbye or a sip from his drink taken.

“Roy, do you really think all that was necessary?” Sam asked, sliding into Jakes now empty seat and sliding his untouched beer over to Roy.

“Abso-fucking-lutley.”

Hope you enjoyed this Jamie fic!!! Let me know what you think <33 more to come as I get up to date on the summer sleepover prompts x

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt oneshot #jamie tartt imagine #ted lasso x reader #beybaldes summer sleepover !!

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Adopt a Jock Part Four / Part Five P 1 YOU ARE HERE / Part Five P 2

As always I own my soul to @chalkysgarbagefire and Hayley for helpin out with this one!

The problem with D&D games was that the drama room was only available on specific days.

As in, the days Hellfire was scheduled as a club for, much to said club’s distress.

This led directly into the second issue Hellfire faced--finding a place to host them all when they wanted to do something as a group outside of the main campaign they played.

(At least anything D&D related, with all of the screaming, ranting, and frantic dice rolling that came with it.)

Gareth knew Eddie had been lying through his teeth when he'd try to pitch Steve's house as a Hellfire hangout. Accepted that they’d never get to use all the sweet, sweet space Steve was known to have as much as he’d accepted Steve himself.

It was a lot, after all. Particularly when Eddie’s one-shots were known to last a good chunk of the day.

Once again, Steve had proved them all wrong.

(“We can use my house.” were five words not a single person at the table had ever expected to hear out of Harrington’s mouth, and it showed in the shocked silence that followed when he actually spoke them.

“What?” Steve asked, as six pairs of eyes stared at him. “Space is the problem right? So my house is the perfect solution.”

“Are you sure dude?” Grant asked hesitantly. “You know this one-shot isn’t gonna be a like, two hour thing, right?”

To their surprise Steve just gave him a flat, almost dead-eyed stare in return. “I’ve hosted the kids at my place before. Believe me, I am well aware.”

“As long as you’re absolutely sure…” Jeff had added, and could only roll his eyes when he got a sassy response from Steve.

Gareth of course, caught the way Steve kept seeking out Eddie’s eyes, as if hoping to make their oldest friend smile simply by offering up his house.

He didn’t even need to look to know it was working.)

It had taken some creative thinking (and a few wild excuses) to finangle things so that he could show up to Steve's literal castle of a home before anyone else without alerting Eddie but he'd managed it.

It was in fact, looking to be the highlight of Gareth's month.

Possibly the year, if they managed to pull off the little plot he had cooked up.

“I still don’t get how this is a prank.” Steve said, as Gareth prepped him before the others arrived.

"Trust me. If Eddie is anything, it's a jealous bitch." Gareth replied, seated on one of the countertops. "We dethrone him and he's gonna make an ass of himself for the next week. It'll be hilarious."

"I fail to see how that's different than usual." Steve grumbled as he bustled about.

Upon arrival Gareth had found him elbow deep into making cookies and what appeared to be themed cocktails, among several other bowls full of snacks of all kinds.

There was even little finger sandwiches, the kind that absolutely looked homemade, and Gareth would have teased him about that except he’d instantly stuffed two in his mouth.

("I won't be able to host since I'm playing, so I just want everything done before anyone comes over." Was Steve's explanation, when Gareth did manage to get out a few teasing quips.

With the proud lack of manners so many teenage boys possessed, Gareth talked right through his mouth of food. "God you’re a dork. How the hell did you get popular?"

"Shut up Emerson, you're wearing two jackets." Steve snipped in response, as if he didn’t look like the poster boy for Nordstrom.)

"Don't bring logic into this." Gareth continued, as he tried to snag some cookie dough.

Steve smacked the back of his hand with a spoon.

"Get a bowl and a spoon if you're going to eat the dough!" Steve grumbled at him, already bustling to get said bowl and spoon himself. “God you’re worse than Eddie. And the kids!”

Gareth waited until Steve turned before he stuck his tongue out at him. "Whatever you say, mom."

He got an over exaggerated eye roll in response.

"Anyway, the point is you're gonna witness something we'll get to tease Eddie about for years." Gareth said, as he watched Steve dole out some dough.

"You get to watch the little hamster on the wheel that powers Eddie's brain lose its shit and cause him to do something really stupid.” He made grabby hands for the bowl and spoon, and tucking in delightfully the second Steve handed them over.

Steve himself treated the entire exchange like he was feeding a particularly vicious and wild animal, making a show of yanking his hands back like Gareth might just go for his fingers. "I just don't understand why the thing you wanna fight about is cuddling."

"Bragging rights. The jokes we can make. The fact that your thighs look like they were made out of clouds, take your pick man.” Gareth counted off, in-between bites of dough.

"Clouds?" Steve asked, tilting his head.

“Big muscley clouds, Harrington. Also Grant’s here.”

Steve blinked. “How do you-” He asked, right before the sound of a car with an engine far too loud pulled into his driveway.

“He drives an absolute piece of crap. You ride in that thing one time and you’ll be able to hear it coming for the rest of your life.” Gareth explained, as Steve peered out the kitchen and down to his front doors.

(Plural, because he had two.

Gareth had never felt more judged by slabs of wood in his life than he had when he’d walked through them.)

"Last chance to bail, Stevie.” Gareth teased. “I won't hold it against you if you call it off mid-show though."

Steve didn’t answer for a moment, too busy disrobing from his baking apron—a bright yellow and red garment that practically swallowed him whole, complete with an embroidered ‘Claudia Henderson’ over the right breast. The embroidery gave rise to a few questions but Gareth decided to save them for later.

"No, something this fucking weird has to have a story behind it and I want to witness the fallout.” Steve finally replied, before rushing out of the kitchen.

He ripped open his front door, right after a knock echoed loudly throughout the house.

“Shit! What the hell man, were you just waiting to do that!?” Stewart yelped, prompting Gareth to snicker quietly and Steve to apologize.

Like the wealthy housewife he’d been no doubt raised by, Steve went through a whole spiel as he ushered Stewart and Grant in, pointing out bathrooms, letting them know where the game was going to take place (the giant fuck off table that looked like it should be hosting some kind of high-stakes negotiation instead of a bunch of nerds) and where they could put their things (into a closet dedicated to just guests.)

The trio of Eddie, Tiffany and Jeff arrived next, the latter two having been roped into helping Eddie haul his “D&D To Go” bags around.

Steve started his little host speech over, much to Gareth’s amusement, fluttering about and entirely forgetting about his cookies until the oven dinged, causing him to swear and rush back into the kitchen.

“Dude, breathe.” Gareth told him, almost done with his bowl. “It’s a D&D game, you don’t gotta go full out for us.”

“I just want to make sure everyone has a good time.“ Steve said with a shrug. Like none of the effort he’d gone to, was a big deal.

“Careful Harrington, say stuff like that again and we’re going to start thinking you enjoy hosting us.”

“Shut up Gary.” Steve said, setting his cookies on a cooling rack. “And put that bowl in the sink!”

Gareth jumped off the counter, trying his best to remove the shit eating from his face.

He failed entirely.

xXx

As far as pranks went, this one required quite the set up.

They couldn’t do it in the beginning of the D&D game--too obvious, and too easy for Eddie to call bullshit.

Doing it at the end wouldn’t work either. Eddie would know they were trying to rile him up and would no doubt find a way to ruin it.

Years of being Munson’s best friend had afforded Gareth the knowledge that this was going to have to be split in two parts, and the first part, the setup, started now.

Slowly. Methodically.

In a way that wouldn't spook Steve, or trigger Eddie's sense for trouble.

Gareth began by selecting a seat as far away from Eddie as possible, knowing his lovestruck idiot friend would be pulling out all the stops tonight in order to impress Steve (and get him to keep playing, of course.)

Sure enough, as soon as Eddie was done setting up he crooked a finger in Steve's direction.

“Harrington you’re here, next to me.” Eddie flashed him his most award winning grin, the one that said he was up to trouble in that charming, ‘aren’t I just a charming ol’ rogue?” sort of way.

“I made you a human fighter, just to start you off." He continued, as Steve took the seat next to him. "You can always make your own character later if you don't like playing this class, but I made this set up as straightforward as possible.”

“Human fighter huh?” Steve said, glancing down the sheet. “Okay.”

“You have any questions, you just ask. I promise I won’t bite. Not for your first time anyway.” Eddie winked, dipping in and out of Steve's space as he did so.

“Dude, I am begging you to please stop saying shit like that.” Jeff said with a long suffering sigh.

“No.” Eddie replied promptly, sticking his tongue out.

Steve just ducked his head to hide his smile.

A harsh clap halted any further response, as Eddie settled back into his seat and dipped into his DM narrator voice.

"Alright my little adventurers! Are we ready to begin?" He looked around as everyone looked towards him, the energy shifting instantly in the room.

Eddie grinned gleefully. "Perfect. You all wake up at an Inn, with no memory of how you got there…"

A story was quickly spun, one of mysterious memory loss and a sense that the group needed to stay together. Introductions were given once everyone came into the tavern of the inn, cut short when they were interrupted by a lone barkeep.

“Is the barkeep a human?” Steve cut in.

Eddie paused, temporarily thrown, but nodded encouragingly. “Yes, he is actually!”

Grant and Jeff both went to open their mouths, no doubt to tease, but Harrington beat them to it.

“Okay, I roll to fight him, or whatever.” Steve said.

“I--what?” Eddie asked.

“I roll to fight him.” Steve repeated. “Oh and my character screams “Death to humans!” before he attacks.”

He sat back with a smug little grin, and watched as Eddie froze in surprise, while Grant and Stewart's jaws promptly hit the floor.

“Harrington, you menace.” Tiff cackled, delighted.

Eddie just threw his head back and laughed.

It set the tone quite nicely for the rest of the one-shot.

xXx

“Grant, why are you looking at me through a fork?” Steve asked, about thirty minutes into the game.

“I’m pretending you’re in jail.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Grant, whose character had to physically carry Steve's fighter out of two altercations he started, just gave him a flat look. “It’s spiritually healing.”

"Hey Jeff." Gareth asked quietly, as banter was traded. "I'm catching a hell of a draft over here."

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him. "And what do you want me to do about it?"

"Switch me seats?"

Jeff rolled his eyes, but gave in easily enough.

"Fine." He said.

Gareth did his best to keep his grin off his face.

Step one, complete!

xxx

"You come upon a door." Eddie said, sitting deep in his seat while steepling his fingers. "It's a normal door, unremarkable in every way except for two things."

Groans filled the room, startling Steve.

"Oh god, not again." Stewart moaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I can't do this again!"

Eddie's grin merely grew. "The first odd thing you notice is that the door has been put into the wall at a tilt."

"I'm gonna kill him." Tiff snarled, writing something frantically in her notes. "Munson is a dead man walking."

"What is happening?" Steve asked, glancing around.

"The second thing is that you recognize this door." Eddie's grin was Cheshire cat-esque, smug in the chaos he was causing among his friends. "It's the same door you saw at the beginning of this adventure, leading into the room the Innkeeper asked you to stay away from."

"We're boned." Grant announced, throwing himself dramatically back against his chair.

Gareth made his own dramatic, frustrated noise, banging his fist on the table.

The full glass of soda next to him wobbled dangerously.

With a cough, he made another loud "ugh!" smacking his fist down a second time, closer to the glass.

As intended, it spilled all over Tiffany.

"Dude!" She exclaimed, shoving her chair backwards and jumping up.

"Oh shit Tiff, I'm so sorry!" Gareth gasped.

It was hard to keep a straight (albeit very sorry, least Tiffany hit him with her papers) face, but he managed.

Barely.

"You got my shirt wet you dick!"

"Here, switch it with this." Gareth stood, unwrapping the red and black checkered sweater from his waist. He offered it up with an apologetic face as Tiff snatched it out of his hands with a glare.

"I'll switch you seats too!" He called as she stormed off towards the bathroom.

Jeff and Grant both stared at him with raised eyebrows as Gareth quickly shuffled his and Tiff's stuff around, taking her now sticky chair.

"Maybe we should take a break?" He suggested, trying to act embarrassed when he was anything but. "This whole area needs to be wiped down."

"Five minutes." Eddie conceded. "I wanted one of Stevie's delicious cookies anyway." He stood, putting his arms up in a lazy stretch.

Steve stood with him, leaning over to examine the mess Gareth had made. “We can wipe this down but this wood’s kinda funny, it’s gonna be wet for a bit no matter how much we dry it.”

“Well shit.” Gareth said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about the table man.”

Steve waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, the kids spill on it constantly. You are probably going to need a different chair though unless you’re fine with your ass getting wet.”

“Do you have another chair somewhere, Stevie?” Eddie asked, making a show of looking around. “Cause I’m not seeing one. Not that I care if Gary-Berry sits on the floor.”

Steve had several extra chairs in fact, but he and Gareth had hidden them all away before anyone else had arrived.

“I used to, but Mike broke two.” Steve said, and Gareth found himself insanely impressed by the improv on display.

He hadn’t thought Harrington had that level of acting in him.

“If you’re okay with sharing though, the chair’s are big enough that we can kinda squish together.” Steve continued, completely ignoring the way Eddie’s eyes about bugged out of his head.

“Only if you’re sure, man. I don’t want to be more of a bother.” Gareth put on his saddest, ‘I dun fucked up’ face, and shuffled his feet a little, just for dramatic effect.

This was the performance of a lifetime and Gareth wanted his Grammy after it, because he and Steve had planned the entire thing right down to the shared chair bit.

“You’re not, Dustin does this constantly.” Steve replied easily.

“Or we could just put down a towel.” Jeff said, with a look on his face that said he thought everyone in the room was a fucking idiot.

Gareth could’ve strangled him.

“That’s probably a smarter idea.” Steve agreed, like the traitor he was. “I dunno if that’s gonna work for your papers and shit though, so you can just hedge into my space.”

Which wasn’t what Gareth wanted, but he had to give Steve props for the quick thinking.

At least it was just a minor setback.

“I’ll get a towel.” Jeff continued, and at least they all got to witness the look that graced Eddie’s face upon realizing that Jeff of all people, knew where Steve kept his towels.

xXx

"What the hell else can we do to try and open the door!?" Jeff snarled a while later, slamming his pencil down.

They'd tried multiple different approaches and so far nothing had worked to set off whatever trap Eddie had set up. Something that made their DM absolutely delighted, while frustrating everyone else.

"I still don't get why we can't just try to turn the knob." Steve complained, staring in confusion at the absolute riot Eddie's "completely normal" door had caused among the rest of his party.

"Do not touch that door Harrington!" Grant bellowed, pointing at him.

Steve raised his hands in the air placatingly. "Easy, easy, I was just making a suggestion."

Gareth, wedged as close into Steve's space as he could get, tapped his fingers on the table twice. It was the little code he’d come up with to alert Steve that he was about to do something to piss off Eddie related to the prank (mostly, so Steve had a heads up Gareth was about to touch him, not that Gareth had spun it that way when he’d explained it) before patting Steve’s shoulder, hooking his elbow on it and leaning over. “Not gonna lie man, it’s not a bad idea. We’ve tried right about everything else.”

He could feel Eddie's eyes burning a hole in his skull from here and he delighted in it.

“Do not encourage him.” Grant said through gritted teeth.

Gareth leaned his face on the arm perched on Harrington, his hair tickling Steve’s cheek as he tried to look as angelic as possible. “I couldn’t possibly know what you mean, Grantman.”

He was flipped off in response.

xXx

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Stewart howled, and even Gareth’s jaw dropped when Steve finally gave in and tried to turn the knob--only to succeed and swing the door open.

“Well Munson? What happens to him?” Tiff said, having refused to call Eddie anything but his last name since the door had first appeared.

“Nothing.” Eddie practically purred. “I told you, it’s a totally normal door, and the only weird thing about it was that you recognized it and that it was put into the wall a little tilted.”

“Fuck you dude.” Stewart practically growled, balling up the piece of paper he’d been doodling on and flinging it towards their DM. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck. You!”

“No thank you.” Eddie replied cheekily, twirling a finger in his hair.

“We spent almost an hour trying to figure out how to open a regular door.” Jeff said, clearly processing. “An hour.”

Eddie just shrugged, shit eating grin plastered across his face.

Gareth once again tapped his fingers twice against the table, waited a moment, before banging his head gently against Steve’s shoulder. “I hate him.” He groaned.

After a long moment, Steve gently, if not a little awkwardly, patted him on the head.

“There, there, Gary. We defeated the door in the end.” He said calmly.

Gareth laughed, absolutely delighted. His head jerked up and a grin crossed his face as he immediately looked to see what Eddie made of that.

Pure murder, going by the face Eddie poorly tried to cover.

Perfect.

xXx

“With his last few moves, Sir Carrington-”

"I refuse to let that be my character's name.” Steve interjected, as he had every time Eddie brought up the name they’d apparently argued over. “If I have to figure out how to change it legally in your dumb game I fucking will."

Eddie didn’t even look in his direction.

“--Sir Carrington leaps into the air, swinging the sword of truth. It cleaves right through the Innkeeper, revealing him to be the dastardly villain you’ve heard so much about, Tareth the Trait. He’s gained an unusual amount of power after stealing the Inn from the former Innkeeper--”

“Really bro?” Gareth said, sending Eddie a flat look. “Tareth the Trait?”

“--With this final blow, Tareth collapses to the ground, dead. The Inn returns to its prior form, a safe haven for adventurers, instead of a trap.”

“Shut up guys, we did it!” Stewart said, throwing his hands up in a victory pose.

“Not gonna Eddie, I liked the twist.” Tiff complimented, a rare thing from her.

“Thank you, thank you.” Eddie stood up, sweeping an arm across his chest as he bowed. “Give yourselves a round of applause as well, especially for our dear Steven, who just completed his first D&D game!”

A cheer went up, causing Steve to flush red.

Gareth pretending to drum, knocking his shoulder into Steve’s much the way he had seen Eddie do as Steve sent an embarrassed smile around the room.

“We should celebrate.” Jeff said, as the chaos finally died down.

“I conquer, Jeff the Chef!” Eddie hollered, putting his foot on Steve’s chair. “Stevie-boy, you gotta have some good stuff around here for those big basketball wins!”

“Get your foot off the chair, Eds.” Steve groaned, but stood up (forcing Gareth to get up as well considering how far he’d been leaning into Steve’s space.) “And yeah we can order like pizza.”

“Pizza and beer?” Grant suggested.

“Oh my friend. I can do better than that.” Steve replied, a flash of his old, charming self coming through. “Allow me to raid my father’s liquor cabinet.”

“Hell yes!” Grant yelled, pumping his fist.

Tiffany rolled her eyes but didn’t protest, and neither Gareth noted, did anyone else.

Which was exactly what he wanted, because he hadn’t managed to land the perfect ending he and Harrington had planned.

Gareth would make it into Steve’s lap tonight, even if it killed him.

(Or worse, even if Eddie got there first, a thing that may very well happen considering Eddie was clearly annoyed with how Gareth had been hogging Steve.

Just as intended.)

SOME NOTES: I don't play d&d so writing it always requires a lot of research. Several pieces here (like the human fighter bit) are based off of/stolen from memes, videos or stories I read. If I fucked it up thaaaan idk squint and pretend its right LOL.

This one doesn’t have a bonus because I had to split Chapter Five into two parts. This is Part One, it’ll be one chapter on A03. It just kept going.

Also Adopt a Jock is officially going up ON A03 so I will no longer be accepting tags ( Ch. One is already uploaded I’m just struggling with the summary lol. I will make a post and link it to my pinned post when it’s up.) I will still be updating here since I am only updating chapters on A03 as fast as I can edit them, which is not fast at all, so I imagine the next few chaps will be here before there but eventually shits gonna even out, so those who did not get onto the tag list can subscribe to the A03!

Finally, Sorry this took so long, I have a prior ongoing medical issue and getting laid off fucked up my insurance. Had to cram in some procedures before it ran out. Long story short all I've done is sleep, go to a doctor or rant about one of the two lmao. Legit slept 18 hours yesterday ahaha k i l l m e

#this is more of an intro to lap wars than lap wars itself #but Part Two turns into Drunk Movie Night Sleepover Time so you bet your ASS lap wars is coming #Gareth continues to be both a gremlin #and a g #steddie #pre steddie #slow burn #steddie LOL #gareth emerson #Eddie Munson #steve harrington #0o0 fanfics #this chapter fought me #ngl I actually extended this whole fic out bc I wanted to write more hellfire shenanagins before the summer hit #and thus Robin and the S3 plot that I'll be messing up LOL

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newwavesylviaplath · 10 days

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also do any of u have any good ideas for my cutesie little summer bucket list cuz i don't want to spend my last summer ever lying in bed wanting to kill myself 🫶🫶🫶

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juustozzi · 8 months

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Don't worry, big sis will take care of you. 💚

#mairimashita! iruma-kun #welcome to demon school! iruma-kun #a combination of soft sleepover clara + the housecats sleeping in iruma's bed #this summer I live for scenes with buncha fellas sleeping in soft light #own art

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365filmsbyauroranocte · 5 months

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The Myth of the American Sleepover (David Robert Mitchell, 2010)

#films watched in 2023 #david robert mitchell #The Myth of the American Sleepover #seis #2010 #Claire Sloma #Marlon Morton #Amanda Bauer #Brett Jacobsen #hands #teenagers #summer #feet #dramedy #independent cinema #swimmin pool #smoke

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satans-knitwear · 11 months

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Lets feel good about something ✨☀️

Treat me ~ Tip me ~ More of me

#Kept thinking i looked as shitty as i was feeling... But turns out im still a snack!!! I shall keep proving my brain wrong #Fun summer vibes #This set is always such a treat. Outdoor look planned for this one soon!!#Satans knitwear #Also!!!! Im v excited about my tumblr sleepover plans.Probably this weekend. Spending some quality time with you guys is gonna be delicious #Alt pinup #Pinup girl #Yellow lingerie set #Strappy lingerie set #Pretty lingerie #🍑 is served #🍑 take a bite #My gif to you #Any tips or treats would be massively appreciated right now 💕💕💕#bi girl #cheeky #wlw

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tripleyeeet · 4 months

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☃️❄️🎅🎄

I think this is the first request I've ever made. Submitting a potential drabble request for you 2,000 follower celebration.

Astarion (or Roland) seeing their lover at night in the snow for the first time. Think first winter in Baldur's Gate after the Absolute is defeated, and perhaps the Gate hasn't seen much snow in a few years.

I love the surreal nature of snow falling on quiet streets at night. Can be smutty or not smutty.

SNOWFALL

SUMMARY: You and Rolan experience your first snowfall in ages.

PAIRING: Rolan & Gender Neutral Reader

WORD COUNT: 1,327

WARNINGS: Allusions of smut.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wait @novarex I'm your first request??? Me??? I am honoured!! :') Also, I decided to go with Rolan since I haven't actually written anything proper for him yet and that feels a bit criminal honestly.

MASTERLIST

At first, all you feel is warmth. Across the entire expanse of your body, it’s as if there’s a fire lit beneath your skin, licking your insides with careful precision —igniting the spaces where Rolan’s hands begin to wander.

As you exit the Elfsong and make a right, you can feel them resting against the small of your back. Guiding you through the bustling intersection of bodies waiting to get inside, it’s the kind of touch that distracts your mind. One that, despite the vast amount of wine consumed between the two of you, somehow manages to grab your attention, forcing your eyes to shift to his arm, wondering what he’s doing.

Considering he’s never been the type to show affection in public, it feels almost wrong to have him hold you like this. To have his frame sloppily settle against yours as he slips his fingers around the edge of your waist. To hear a breathy chuckle escape his often unimpressed lips before pressing the side of his face against yours.

“I think we overdid it,” he says. And although you agree you merely laugh in response, allowing the position of your arm to match his as it works to tuck inside the pocket of his robes, watching him look over in confusion. “I’m sorry, can I help you?”

Holding back a smirk, you keep your eyes focused on his as you awkwardly try to move your other hand to the opposite pocket. Quickly realizing the complicated position you’ve made for yourself before merely sighing. “My hands are cold.”

“So you’ve decided my pockets are the best place for them?” He raises his brow.

“Is that a problem?”

Instead of responding with the usual witty quip he grabs your icy hand and casts some sort of spell, further warming your skin with an unfamiliar heat. Filling the base of your palm with the kind of sensations that cause your breath to catch as you continue to stare.

“Your hands are freezing.”

“It’s cold.”

As you continue walking through the darkened streets, you feel his thumb roughly push against the inside of your hand, massaging every corner of muscle and bone until eventually, his fingers settle between your own. Quickly slipping inside each empty space with practiced ease.

It makes you feel like you’re melting. Once you feel his fingertips brush against your own, suddenly it’s the only thing you can focus on other than breathing, causing your feet to sort of shuffle to a pause.

“Oh good, we’re stopping.”

His voice is sarcastic now. A soft bite of mischief pushing through the fire and ice. The familiar sound creating a sense of normalcy within an otherwise strangely intimate moment.

“Wait, I’m confused,” you tell him, but he doesn’t get it. Instead, all he does is stand and stare, refusing to falter. Completely unaware of the half-baked thoughts that slip past your lips, confusing you too.

“About walking?”

You narrow your eyes, trying to think. “No.”

“About the cold?”

“No.”

“About the—“

You interrupt him with a snort, feeling the rise of inebriation circulate through your head as you lower your forehead to his shoulder, hardly feeling him tense. “Never mind.”

Once again, he uncharacteristically doesn’t push. Too focused on getting back to the tower, he merely ushers you forward once again. Guiding you through the various winding paths of the Gate until you eventually make it to his quarters. Until you shuck off your dirtied armour and find yourself standing by the bed feeling the roaming of his hands.

Instead of at your waist, they’re on your ass. Rubbing rough circles into the plushest parts, you know then that the warmth once felt outside will only increase. As his lips slot over your own, pushing against the defiant bite of your teeth as they grin at the taste of him, you know in just a few moments you’ll be completely on fire. A wild flame rolling through the forest floor, burning everything in its path until all that’s left is a pile of ash. When his hands explore the peaks and valleys of your figure, you’ll flicker and burn as the smoke fills your lungs, ultimately rendering you breathless. Leaving you limp and useless by the time the flame’s all been snuffed out.

At which point the cold begins to settle in again. As you press chaste kisses to his shoulder and back, it takes over pretty quickly, coating your skin in goosebumps. Forcing you to slip toward the edge of the bed to grab your robe, prompting Rolan to sigh at your absence.

“You know, I could just warm us up, right?”

You roll your eyes and wave your hand as you shove your arm into one of the sleeves. “No need.”

“How come?”

Before you can turn to respond he’s already kneeling behind you, tipping the base of your chin back so that he’s looming above you, smugly grinning. Allowing the edges of his lips to brush against the tip of your nose.

“Because I wouldn’t want you to waste your spells.”

In response, he hums and allows his fingers to trail down your neck, lazily drawing soft patterns against the middle column before gently taking hold. “S’pose using magic that has the same effect as my flesh seems a bit foolish.”

“A bit,” you agree with a grin, hearing him scoff before he kisses your mouth again. Washing away whatever cold front may have occurred as you once again settle in, discarding your robe without thought. Allowing the cycle of fire and ice to repeat itself over and over until you find yourselves growing tired. Both of your bodies too put out to continue as you soon find yourselves sitting on the balcony, nursing another bottle of Rosymorn firewine.

Like usual, you pass it back and forth without thought. Chatting casually in between sips, you tuck yourself against his side and watch the lights of the city slowly begin to die out. The families of Baldur’s Gate gradually retiring as the late-night air settles in, shifting uncomfortably across your skin.

“Hey, do you think I can retract my previous statement?”

While sipping the bottle, he gives you a curious look.

“Can you warm us up with your magic hands?”

The second he’s finished he sets down the bottle and shifts to place both of his hands on your arms, stroking your frozen flesh with his thumbs. “Only if you use your manners.”

“Ugh, fine. Please?”

Suddenly, despite him casting the same spell as before, the cold feels worse. Against the edge of your exposed leg, you feel it push through Rolan’s heated hands. Pulling your attention away from his face to glance slightly upward, seeing flashes of white. Realizing then that it’s snowing for the first time in ages.

Which leaves you in awe. As the colourless flakes of ice slowly cascade downward, you can’t help but remember all those years you spent playing in the snow as a kid. How alive you felt each year you’d wake up to see that heavy blanket of snow lining the city streets.

Even now, despite your age, your tongue absentmindedly slips between your lips to taste it. To feel the collection of flakes quickly melt against your tongue, prompting Rolan to snort.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You let your tongue slip back as you nod, feeling almost refreshed. “Yeah, it’s snowing!”

“I see that.”

Still feeling excited, you reach out to grab his face, shaking it back and forth as you let out a laugh, hearing him grunt from the impact of your movements. “Rolan! Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve had snow?”

You can feel him attempting to shake his head but to no avail, causing you to lean forward, pressing your lips against his in celebration before he chases you down. Pulling your mouth back with a tug and a laugh as he continues to warm you both under the falling snow.

TAGLIST: @imgoingtofreakoutnow @fictionobsession @elfinbloodbag (tagging y'all cause I know you love the tiefling wizard)

#snowfall #rolan bg3 #rolan x gender neutral reader #rolan x you #hark! a sleepover #summer writes

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