#I think I pulled off skating and shooting only once

[obsessed-with-stardew]

His Hoodie

You looked cold so Sebastian let you borrow his hoodie, he didn’t know how much he’d like seeing you in it.

Sebastian xF!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names

Wc: 3530

It’s another Friday night at the Stardrop Saloon. You’re in your usual spot, next to Abigail on the couch, in the game room watching Sebastian school Sam at pool like always.

“Top left pocket,” Sebastian calls his final shot.

“No way you can sink that, man!” Sam said.

Sebastian catches your eye as he carefully lines up his shot, and with a wink he sinks the 8-ball.

Sam groans “argh you’re too good, it’s not fair!”

Sebastian chuckles softly, “Fine, fine. Y/n, are you any good at pool?”

“Um I mean I’ve played before but I’ve never claimed to be good… why?” You ask.

“Let’s say I’m evening the playing field,” Seb says with a grin.

“Hey two against one isn’t even,” Sam complains.

“Think of it this way Sam, I’m teaching y/n so if you beat us, you’re beating me and showing what a bad teacher I am.”

“Alright… just this once” Sam says.

The game starts just fine, Seb breaks. Expertly sinking two balls off the bat.

“We’re solids, y/n. That means don’t sink the stripes” Seb teases.

You blush, “I know the basics.”

You asses the table, choosing your path. You lean down, hoping to at least hit the ball. Sebastian’s breath catches. Sure he’s been attracted to you since you first moved into Pelican Town, but seeing your jeans perfectly molded to your ass as you bend over the table… the things he’d do to you if you were alone.

Seb says “Sorry I couldn’t tell you knew which ball to hit by the way you line up your shot” he chuckles. “Here, can I help?”

He leans down behind you. You can feel his breath on your ear ask he skates his hand down your forearm to adjust your hold.

“You gotta grip it a little tighter, you’re in control here,” he whispers into your ear.

It’s only with his body pressed to yours, his hand guiding your own, that you realize how phallic a pool cue can be. He must realize it too, because you feel something firm pressing against your ass.

*cough cough* Sam clears his throat.

“Today you two!” Abigail laughs.

You blush as Sebastian cooly straightens and runs his fingers through his dark hair.

“You got this y/n” he says encouragingly.

You take the shot and make it.

“Woah I actually made it!” You shout, bouncing up and turning to Seb. The joy on your face makes his heart flutter.

Sam sighs, “well this isn’t gonna be as easy as I thought”.

“I’ll grab the next round, you guys keep playing” you say.

After you return with the drinks the game and the jokes flow easily.

You make a few shots and miss a few too, with Seb encouraging or laughing it off with you.

“Middle right!” Sam calls the last ball.

He lines up his shot

He shoots

It misses.

“Oof, tough break bud” Abigail says.

“Awh sorry Sam, looks like it’s not your night,” Seb teases. “Y/n, you’re up.”

You choke on your drink, “Seb I thought it was your turn??”

He smiles at you, “nah, you’ve been doing so well for me. I think you deserve to finish this.”

You try to keep your cool, leaning over the table.

“Just breathe, you got this.” Seb says, it’s meant to be encouraging for you but it doubles as an attempt to control his hard on. The way you’re leaning, he can just glimpse your black lacy bra down your shirt.

“Top left,” you call the pocket.

With Seb’s encouragement warming in your chest, you loose your shot. The tip of the pool cue hits the ball perfectly, sinking the 8-ball right where you wanted it.

“Hey we did it!” You bounce up and pull Sebastian into a hug. He stiffens at the sudden contact and you let go blushing.

“Way to go y/n, now I guess I’ll be bench warming all by my lonesome” Abigail scoffs

“Maybe you should try playing some time Abby,” Sam says.

“Oh fuck off sam, you just want to win for once,” Abigail said.

“Think you can take me??” Sam asks.

Seb leans over towards you, “they could be at this for awhile, want to join me for a smoke break?”

You nod and follow him out of the saloon.

Seb leans against the side of the building, pulls out his pack of cigs and offers one to you.

You take it, happy to have something warm you up on this cool spring night. Seb flicks on his lighter and you lean in to light to up. You look so beautiful in the light from the flame, your eyes hooded, focusing on getting your cig lit then they flicker up at him, catching his gaze. Time slows as his can see your lips wrapped around his cock instead of that dainty cigarette. He blinks, releasing the flame. Relishing that he can hide his blush in the darkness. As he lights his own cig, you fall into a similar daze. Watching his fingers expertly flick on the flame, illuminating his face so full of focus. Your mind drifts to what that focus and those fingers could do to you. The thoughts make you shiver.

“Oh shit, y/n, are you cold?” Sebastian ask.

“Huh? What?” You shake yourself out of your daze.

“Here hold this” he hands you his cigarette and begins to take off his hoodie.

“Oh now you don’t need to…” your words trail off as Sebastian pulls the hoodie over his head. It takes some of his shirt with it, revealing his stomach and a hint of hair at his waist line in the moonlight. You take a drag on your cig to try and refocus yourself.

“Trade me,” Seb says as he holds the hoodie out towards you. Passing him the cigarettes, you pull the hoodie on. It’s still warm and smells like him, a mix of smoke, cedar and something spicy.

“I think our cigs got swapped at some point, this one is maybe yours?” He says handing it back over.

You giggle, “it doesn’t really matter, we were bound to swap saliva eventually.” You say as you lean up against the wall next to him.

He turns to face you, “oh really? And how is that?”

“Oh, um well, you know..” you stammer. “Like sharing drinks and stuff…”

“And stuff?” Seb teases.

You take a drag and blow your smoke in his face, causing him to cough and laugh. You start to laugh too, then Sebastian’s hand grabs your wrist, pulling you to him. With his other hand he tilts your chin up so your eyes meet, he can see the Cherry of his cig reflected in your blown out pupils. A dead giveaway that you want him as much as he wants you.

“Stuff like….” Seb drawls, leaning down to brush your lips with his own. “this?” He murmurs against your mouth just before capturing it with a kiss. You let out a soft moan, as you part your lips to deepen the kiss. You pull lightly on his full bottom lip with your teeth and he lets out a low groan, dropping your wrist and grabbing your waist to pull your body flush against his. Just as you begin to deepen the kiss the door to the saloon swings open and you hear your friends turning the corner. The two of you jump back, sucking desperately at your cigs to try and act natural.

“Oh there you guys are!” Sam says.

“Sam thought you would’ve snuck off to the woods or something,” Abigail laughs.

“Nah, we’re just enjoying the air” Seb says, hoping his voice sounds calm even though his pulse is hammering so hard he’s sure everyone can hear it.

“Yep, love me some air” You say a little breathlessly, shooting Seb a small smile.

Abigail and Sam share a look that says they are all too aware of what they interrupted.

“…anyway, I’m headed home. Seb, you ready to head out?” Abigail asks.

Shit, Sebastian got so swept up in you he completely forgot he’d promised to walk Abby home. She may have a tough exterior, but after her first trip to the mines, the darkness makes her jumpy.

“Yeah, um let me just finish this cig. “ he says.

“Oh, here you probably need this back,” you say, “I know how cold the walk up to the mountains can be.”

You start to wriggle out of his hoodie.

Seb places a hand on your arm, halting you movement. You look up at him.

“I think you need it more than I do tonight,” he says with a small smile.

“Well I’m off,” Sam says. “Bye you guys!”

“Alright Abby, let’s head out.” Seb says, “see ya later Sam… bye y/n.” His hand lingers on your arm for just a moment before he steps back and heads out with Abby.

You sigh, take a final drag on your cigarette and turn for the farm. You’re grateful for the warm hoodie, but you wish it was Seb walking you back to your house. You imagine him pushing you up against the wall the second you walk through the door. kissing you until you’re both panting and breathless. But it’s just you, alone on the farm.

You get ready for bed, keeping the hoodie and the smell of him on your body. As you snuggle into bed, you fantasize the he’s there with you. You grab your breasts and tease your nipples, thinking of his fingers pulling them and his mouth sucking on one and then the other…

~*~meanwhile, outside Abigail’s house~*~

Shit shit shit, Seb thinks. He just realized he left his house key in the pocket of his hoodie. He could wake up Maru or his mom but he always hates how they look at him coming home late, smelling like smoke.

Y/n probably just took the hoodie off when she got home and left it on that coat rack by the door. He could just slip in and grab the key and you wouldn’t have to know.

The thought of sneaking into y/n’s house while she’s asleep gives Seb a dirty thrill. He feels his cock stiffen as his mind floats to naughty thoughts of ways he could wake you up. He was so wrapped up in his fantasy the walk was over before it had begun. The farm really was so peaceful at night, he’d never noticed how beautiful y/n kept it. It’s almost as calming as the lake in the mountains.

“You don’t even know if she likes you like that Seb, stop imagining a life here,” he scolds himself, walking up to the door.

Reaching his hand up to brush the top of the door frame, he finds the key you keep ‘hidden’. Locking the door always makes you feel safe, but you also want your friends to be able to come by anytime they need.

He fits the key into the lock, turns it quietly and slips into the darkness of your home. Pulling out his phone flashlight, Seb searches the coat rack for any sign of the hoodie, with no luck. Maybe you took it off in your bedroom… he quietly walks down the hallway. Hearing a noise, he halts. Was that sound really what he thinks it was? He hears another little whimper.

“Yes, Sebby yes,” you moan quietly.

His heart hammers in his chest and his cock hardens painfully.

“Is this really happening?? Is y/n really touching herself while thinking about me??” Seb thinks.

He palms his hard length through his tight jeans letting out a small hiss of air between his teeth. Before he can stop himself, Seb peers into your bedroom. He sees you, glowing in the moonlight wearing only his hoodie. One hand clutching your breast and the other moving carefully between your legs. You’re so lost in the action, you don’t notice him enter the room.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you’re such a needy girl aren’t you y/n,” Seb says in a low, barely audible voice.

“mmmmm I need you sebby” You moan, thinking his voice was in your head. Wait…. That was most definitely not in your head. Your movement stops and your eyes shoot open to find Sebastian casually leaning against your doorframe.

“Don’t stop on my account sweetheart,” he drawls taking a few steps into the room. “Unless you want some help with that?”

You’re stunned into silence. Is this really happening? You’re open your mouth to reply, but quickly close it. You sit up and grab at your sheets to cover you, praying he can’t see your flushed face in the moonlight.

“Don’t get all shy on me now baby,” Sebastian croons, making his way to the edge of your bed.

“Wha-what are you doing here Seb??” You stammer.

He huffs out a laugh and sits down next to you.

“Awh, what happened to Sebby? I think I like when you moan it out of that pretty little mouth.”

He leans in capturing your lips with his own as his hand reaches into the hoodie pocket.

“Woah wha-?” You pull away with a start as you feel his hand brush your stomach through the fabric. He pulls his hand out and you see something flash between his fingers. A key.

“I realized I left this in there after I got to Abby’s,” Seb says, “And instead of dealing with Maru I figured I’d slip in here and grab the key from the coat rack.”

He twirls the key in his fingers, watching you squirm under the covers. He laughs, “Imagine my surprise to find you wearing only my hoodie while you moan out my name.”

Grabbing your hand, Seb gently guides you to feel his hard bulge through his jeans.

“Ahhh” he sighs at the contact, “See what you do to me y/n?”

You let out a whimper, biting your lip.

“And to find out you’re so needy for me, that’s just an extra treat.” He says, his voice low and gravely.

Sebastian shifts quickly to straddle you, grabbing your wrists with one hand and pinning them above you as he cups your chin with the other.

“How bout you be a good girl and let me take care of you, y/n?”

You nod vigorously and he leans in to press a punishing kiss to your lips. You both moan as he presses his bulge to your dripping pussy. His hands begin to roam your body, grabbing at your breasts and your hips. You reach down to grab the hem of the hoodie but Sebastian grabs your wrist and presses a kiss to it.

“No,” he says, his eyes dark. “Keep it on. I like seeing you in it.”

Your heart flutters and you caress his face.

“Anything for you Sebby,” you say.

At the sound of the nickname falling from your lips, Seb feels himself losing control. He would do anything to hear you cry out his name.

He leans back taking you in, hoodie bunched up around your waist, chest heaving and pussy glistening. All for him. Sebastian knows he should take it slow, savoring and exploring your body. But you’re both so ready any more foreplay would feel like torture.

He crawls out of bed, and unbuttons his pants. You’re practically drooling watching him pull off his dark tshirt and black jeans. Seb’s dark boxer briefs fight to restrain his erection. Then those are on the floor too. His hard cock springs out, and you shudder in a breath looking at him. Have you ever seen a boy as beautiful as Sebastian? His pale skin shining in the moonlight. He slowly strokes his cock, letting you watch him.

“You’re so beautiful Sebby,” you tell him softly.

He huffs out a rough chuckle, “You’re one to talk sweetheart”.

He climbs back on top of you. You pull him down for a kiss, tongues twining as you lose yourselves in the others mouth. You arch your back, pressing your body into him. His cock brushes your soaked pussy. He pulls back from the kiss on shaky arms.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n? If we do this, I don’t think I can go back. I don’t think we can just be friends anymore. I’ll want all of you.” Sebastian says, looking intently into your eyes.

“Fuck being friends,” you say, “I’ve wanted to be yours since I first saw you.”

He groans, pushing the head of his aching cock between your wet, waiting folds.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that,” Seb says as he eases into you. Just the tip, letting you adjust to the size of him and allowing him to get his bearings so he doesn’t blow this moment by cumming the instant he feels you clench around him.

He takes a shaky breath and continues to push into you, stopping only when he is fully sheathed inside of you.

“Fuck,” Sebastian breathes out. “So good and tight for me aren’t you sweet girl”

You moan and he can feel your walls clench his cock. He pulls out almost to the tip, then slams back into you.

“My good girl, so wet and ready for me” Seb says between thrusts. “You are my good girl aren’t you?” He asks.

You’re so lost in pleasure you don’t register that he’s waiting for a response. Seb reaches out and wraps his long fingers lightly around your throat. Your eyes snap up to his, you’ve never been choked in bed before.

He pushes in all the way then stills “You have to answer me baby.” Seb says, watching you with dark eyes.

“Y-yes, I’m your good girl Sebby,” you murmur, wriggling your hips.

Seb chuckles and applies a little more pressure to your throat. You moan in response and he rewards you by starting to fuck you again in earnest.

“Next time we’ll take things slower baby” he huffs, “I’ll fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.” Seb groans, his pace getting sloppier. “I’ll eat your perfect pussy until you come on my tongue.”

You cry out, eyes closing as you succumb to the pleasure.

“No no baby,” he coos, “I need to see your eyes as you come for me”.

You blink open your eyes, taking in the sight of Seb’s lean frame towering over you. Sebastian’s eyes bore into yours, so full of lust and hunger.

“Seb-sebby,” You moan “I’m gonna cum!”

His intense features break into a grin, “That’s my good girl, cum all over my cock sweetheart”.

And with that Sebastian follows you over the edge, thrusting deep into you as he spills into your pussy. His arms give out and he falls onto your chest with a huff. You giggle, nuzzling his head. Seb jerks a bit, and groans.

“What is it Seb?” You ask.

He lets out a chuckle, “I can feel you laughing”.

You giggle again, and he buries his face in your chest. “It feels good I hope?” You ask.

“Fuck baby, it feels too good,” Seb says looking up at you with a grin.

He pushes back up on he elbows, and with a hiss pulls out of you. You let out a little whine, feeling empty without him inside you.

Seb laughs shaking his head, “You really are insatiable, aren’t you?”

He sits back, admiring how lucky he is. The girl he’s thought about while alone in his own bed, now sprawled out before him. Your beautiful fucked out expression, his cum leaking out of your perfect pussy. Seb leans forward and with two fingers starts gently scooping his cum back into you.

“Mmmmm” you moan, “Whatcha doin down there Sebby?” You ask with a shiver.

He looks up at you with a bashful smile, “Just didn’t want to waste any of it,” he says as he pushes his fingers into your overly sensitive hole.

You gasp as Sebastian curls his fingers inside you, hitting the spot that drives you crazy. He pumps them in and out of you in a lazy pace, watching you whimper. Seb brushes his thumb against your clit causing you to tense.

“Shhh baby, just relax” he says rubbing your thigh with his free hand. “You didn’t think I’d give my sweet girl just one orgasm did you?”

You let out a groan as Seb slowly pushes another finger into you. He fingers you lazily, skillfully drawing out your second orgasm. After bring you back down from your high, seb slides his fingers out of you and slips them into his mouth.

“We taste pretty good together baby,” he says with a wink. You can’t move, so entranced watching him clean your combined mess off of his fingers.

“C’mon sweet girl,” he says extending his hand, “Let’s get cleaned up and go to bed.”

You follow his to the bathroom, “Wait so does that mean…” you trail off.

“What? You think I’d take this good care of you to let you sleep alone?” He asks with a grin.

[brain-rot-central]

The Cellar

A/N: I feel like I hit my quota in the smut mines, for this weekend. I left this open so I could eventually make a part two, if it so suits me, heh.

Words: 3.1k CW: 18+, dry humping, Virgin!Tav, masturbation, fingering, dubcon (?? not really sure but I'm gonna put it), sexual themes, pining, Astarion being a little shit Pairing: Astarion x Female!Tav (the reader is Tav) Summary: You and Astarion were looting a particular cellar within the Blighted Village when you happened to brush hands. As brief as the exchange was, it quickly escalated to something more. You can't stop thinking about it, and neither can Astarion. What portal into the Hells have you opened for yourself?

“Hello, my sweet.”

Astarion sought you out from the opposite side of camp, the flap of your tent closing behind him as he entered.

“Oh, Astarion! Hello,” you greet him. You're sitting on the floor of your abode, wiping various kinds of blood and grime from your armor. Thank the Gods you wear a metal breastplate; you couldn't imagine how tough it must be to remove blood once it's soaked into leather.

“You do know that Gale called everyone for dinner not long ago, right?” He tilts his head slightly back toward the direction of the campfire, a clenched fist raising above his shoulders. The thumb of his hand echoes his head, also pointed toward the middle of camp.

You place the armor and handkerchief off to your side, standing up. “Oh, yes, I did happen to hear him.” You cast your eyes to the floor and let out a brief chuckle, patting your hands over your lap to brush off some dirt. “I guess I just got carried away!” Your eyes move from the floor and up to Astarion's face, and you can see it immediately spelled out on his expression.

You're bullshiting him, and he knows it.

With his head still tilted to the side, he furrows his brows together. His eyes draw into narrow slits, and the corner of his mouth turns upward into a smile.

Truth be told, you were thinking about him.

You'd removed most of the blood on your breastplate hours ago. Though, your mind drifted to thoughts about your vampiric companion. 

His fingers have brushed up against yours a few times on your adventure, mostly when you were both looting an old residence you'd come upon. You'd place your hand on a particular item, only to feel Astarion's hand covering your own from the opposite side of the shelf. You mindlessly began scrubbing every nook and cranny on your armor as you imagined his long, lithe fingers ghosting over your own.

~~~

A chill shoots down your spine at the sensation and you instinctively pull your hand back, a small startled yelp leaving your mouth.

“My apologies, darling. Didn't see you there!” Astarion calls from behind the shelf. He steps around the corner of the shelf, quickly enough to see you shaking off your hand.

“I-It’s quite alright, Astarion,” you stammer. An unsettling warmth radiates over your body, and you realize that his eyes are fixated on you.

But, something is different about this look.

He looks… hungry.

His eyelids have dropped and he's stepping closer, closer, until his cologne tickles the underside of your nose.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. “You look rather distressed.”

You briefly scan the room around you, only to realize that yourself and Astarion are the only occupants. Your breath catches in your throat as he clasps a hand over one of yours, bringing your hand to his mouth.

His eyes drift closed and he kisses the inside of your hand, interlocking his fingers between your own. He begins trailing kisses down your palm and to the inside of your wrist.

“Astarion, wha-” you manage to choke out before he cuts you off.

“I know you think of me, Tavaria.” Astarion's voice is a growl, low and throaty. He steps before you, his chest mere centimeters from yours.

“I see it in the way you stare.” He takes both of your arms, fingers skating gently over your forearms before sinking into the skin, and guides them to wrap around his neck. “Oh, so eagerly.”

~~~

“Of course, I'm sure you did,” Astarion says, his voice cutting you free from your thoughts. He's still smiling, as if he knew exactly where your mind had just been.

“Anyhow,” he continues, “I'll be out there mingling amongst the others. Do be sure to eat while it's still warm, hmm?”

With a wave of a hand, Astarion turns on his heels and walks out of your tent. 

You release a sigh you didn't know you were holding as the flap to your dwelling draws closed again.

You haven’t yet told him you were a virgin. The chance hasn't come up naturally yet, though it almost did that night in the cellar.

Again, your mind drifts.

~~~

You gasp as his hands come to hold each side of your waist. He grinds his pelvis into yours, and you feel it through the layers of your clothing, nudging against your mound. 

That's him. 

The pressure of the lewd contact against your front sends a delicious wave of electricity down to your core. Your cunt throbs with each rut of his hips into yours and your mouth falls open in a silent cry. Your hands fall to grasp his biceps, needing something, anything, to help ground you in this moment.

Astarion drops his head to your ear, nipping softly at your earlobe. “Does our ‘illustrious leader’ touch herself while alone in her tent, as she thinks of me?”

You groan and collapse slightly into his grasp, wetness gathering at the apex of your thighs. This fucking bastard. How did he know? Did he overhear you at night?

…Did he stay up just to listen?

~~~

The thought sends your mind reeling all over again. You shake your head vigorously, hoping to rid yourself of the memory and the newly-formed blush across your cheeks.

He would have fucked you, right then and there. Would have happily taken you on the dirt floor of some musty old cellar. Probably would have shoved your face down into the dirt as he mercilessly plowed into you from behind, stuffing your cunt to the brim with his seed as he roared through his climax.

He would have never known that was your first time.

The thought excites you more than you'd ever care to admit.

Whatever you lacked in experience, you made up for in knowledge. You knew what you liked, and what lines you were hard pressed to cross. You were learned in the topic sex, knew of erogenous zones for humans and elves alike. You weren't quite sure if your hand felt as good as Astarion's cock would, but you made due. It was a worthy substitute, for now.

Your mind did indeed travel often to visions of the pale elf. You dreamed of your lips interlocked in a slow, tender kiss. You envisioned his hands traveling up and down the expanse of your back, coming to settle on the swell of your ass.

But mostly… you think of the cellar.

~~~

You groan through clenched teeth as his fingers pump languidly into your core. You can hear how wet you are, how much of a mess he has made of your body. You've never been touched like this before; it's better than anything you could have imagined.

Astarion's fingers curl into a “come hither” motion within you and you careen, back arching and your mouth falling open in a ragged scream. The palm of his hand grinds against your clit, and you swear you're going to die.

You swear he's trying to kill you, swear he's doing this so he can drink every last drop of your blood without consequence.

He begins to move his fingers in earnest and it's too much, too much too soon, your body has never known pleasure like this.

“Astarion-!” you call his name, your voice a panicked whisper. Suddenly, you shatter. Your vision bleeds into solid white as tremors overtake your body. Your hands seek purchase on his forearms, your nails digging deep enough to pierce his skin.

“That's it, little girl,” he coos into your ear. “You’re doing so well for me.” His fingers continue their assault against that particular spot inside you and you whine, dropping your head onto his shoulder. It's too much, you're too sensitive.

Your chest heaves, sucking in deep breaths as Astarion finally removes his fingers from your aching hole. A pitiful sob escapes you at the lost sensation of being filled. He chuckles darkly and takes his hand, the one that had just brought you to the peak of pleasure, and shoves it down the front of his trousers to adjust and squeeze his straining cock into a better position. Astarion lets out a soft groan as his length rests up against his abdomen, pulling his hand free from his leathers.

You finally find strength enough to lift yourself straight into a standing position, bracing your hands on his shoulders for leverage. You look up and do your best to focus on his face, watching as he sucks the two fingers he just had in your cunt, and on his cock, into his mouth. They're sure to have tasted of you and him, at this point.

“Absolutely exquisite, my darling. Truly the nectar of the most forbidden fruit,” he states with a sultry tone. 

Half-lidded eyes were transfixed on yours and you suck in a shaky breath. You follow his tongue as it weaves around and between each of his digits, cleaning them diligently.

~~~

You raise both hands to your face, digging the heels of your palms into your eyeballs.

This fucking bastard.

He knew what he was doing. And by the Gods, did he do it well.

“It's all a bit of fun, my dear,” he told you after your encounter. Just two, beautiful people staring down the end of their lives together. Why not go out with a bang?

Your nose catches a faint waft of Astarion’s signature cologne, reminding you he had been in your tent mere moments ago. 

“Probably best I go and grab supper,” you say to yourself. Not that you'd mind Astarion returning to your tent again, but you weren't necessarily prepared for the possibility of things… escalating.

You draw in a deep breath and cross the threshold of your tent. You're greeted by sounds of laughter coming from around the campfire. Wyll seems to be telling an entertaining story, based on Karlach wiping tears of joy from her eyes. Shadowheart watches as she sips from her goblet, Gale looking attentively at Wyll as he speaks.

Lae’zel has taken her dinner back to her tent, taking small bites in between the sharpening of her blade on the grindstone. Some might call it unsettling, but you feel a sense of calm and safety knowing she is always prepared to strike within a moment's notice.

Astarion is seated on the end of the wooden bench, a tome in hand as he laughs in response to Wyll’s story. You see a purple aura emanating from Astarion's lap, and you recognize the book he's holding to be the very one you found that same day in the cellar. 

The Necromancy of Thay.

You'd taken down a Spider Queen and her clutch in order to obtain the purple oval gemstone placed in mouth on the book’s cover. It pulsed a brilliant violet light in Astarion's lap, his fingers slowly tracing each line of text within the pages of the tome.

You weren't quite sure why Astarion was interested in this book, but you let him have it. “That looks awfully heavy,” he had told you. “Why don't you let me carry it for you?”

You didn't know much about Astarion yet, but you knew that he was never quite pleased with the hand life had dealt him. Perhaps he was seeking answers to cure his vampirism, or hoping to find a weakness to exploit against his old master, Cazador. Whatever his motivation was, his eyes were glued to each page of the book, making sure to absorb each shred of information it had to offer.

“Good evening, everyone,” you say, picking up a bowl from around the edge of the campfire. You ladle some stew into your bowl, pleased to see that it's boar meat this time as opposed to rabbit.

Your companions nod and wave in your direction in acknowledgement of your presence. You hear slight murmurs as they resume their prior conversation.

“I figured I'd bring back a fresh kill for you all to enjoy,” Astarion spoke up, lifting his eyes momentarily from his book. “Why waste perfectly good meat?”

Gale clears his throat. “An excellent contribution to our feast, Astarion. We're most pleased by your generosity,” Gale says as he shovels his last spoonful of stew into his mouth. 

“I’ll admit, it was the most flavorful boar I've had in a while,” Shadowheart adds, taking another small sip of wine, “though I'm unsure if it's due to hunger, or the meat being fully exsanguinated prior to butchering.”

Astarion rolls his eyes in response, settling them back onto the pages in his lap. “Remind me never to be nice again,” he retorts.

Wyll chuckles. “Oh come now, Astarion. We truly appreciate you sharing with us. You could have left the carcass to rot, but no! You were thoughtful enough to consider your fellow companions.” Wyll clenches a fist and brings it over his heart, dipping his head to the floor. “We thank you for your generosity.”

Astarion scoffs audibly as he turns a page, his face scrunching up in disgust.

“It was merely a matter of convenience that Astarion brought the boar back to camp,” Lae’zel suggests, coming to drop her bowl in the wash bin next to the fire. “Had Astarion not required blood, we'd be feasting once more on the lean, pathetic meat of a field rabbit.”

Astarion’s head lifts up from the book in his lap, his arm extending toward Lae’zel’s direction. “Finally, someone who truly understands!” he exclaims, voice jovial. “Thank you, Lae’zel. I always knew you were smarter than you looked.”

Lae’zel groans in response and returns to her tent, grabbing a cloth to polish her armor. A brief moment of silence spreads over the camp, the firewood crackling and hissing into the night air.

Karlach places her bowl on the floor between her feet and looks toward Astarion. “Hey, Fangs,” she says, “what's the book you got there?”

Astarion softly closes the book on his lap and holds it up with both hands, as if displaying it for the others to view. “Oh, this old thing? Just something Tav and I found while looting a residence in the Blighted Village.”

You watch as his eyes dip low, settling on you. “It was located in a cellar, along with some other most delightful trinkets.”

You swallow thickly around the innuendo, somewhat startled, nearly choking on a chunk of boar. You audibly clear your throat, casting your eyes downward at the bowl resting on your thighs. You feel your cheeks begin to burn and you dare not return Astarion's gaze. You mindlessly begin spooning your stew.

You'd read of vampires having the ability to charm their victims, particularly those who are of the young, innocent, female variety. Astarion had told you he was simply a spawn, lacking the powers and abilities of a vampire lord. Though, you didn't believe it. How else could he have lured so many people back to Cazador? They'd surely fallen under his thrall… to some degree.

Astarion is a portrait frozen in time, turned at the peak of his physical maturity. He has hard, chiseled muscle covering the entire expanse of his body. His face is cut sharply, as if carved out of diamonds. His cheekbones sit high and his nose is strong and prominent, the slightest bump seen right below the bridge. His jawline is well defined, drawing together into the soft cleft of his chin. Soft silver curls envelope his face in a halo, and he truly looks god-like when the evening sun shines over him just right.

A forever young, devastatingly handsome vampire, destined to walk Faerûn for all of eternity.

“Huh,” Karlach spoke up, breaking your mind free from the confines of your latest rabbit hole. “Well, what's it about?” Her questions were innocent enough, bless her Hellfire engine of a heart.

“It's a book of the dead,” Astarion explains. “I'm hoping to gain some particular knowledge from it.”

Both Gale and Wyll chime in together, almost in unison. “I don't think that's a good idea,” they say in near synchronicity.

Astarion's face scrunches into a scowl as he rises from his seat on the log. “Well, good thing it isn't either of you reading this tome.” He gestures toward you as you spoon another mouthful of stew past your lips. “Tav was gracious enough to share it with me. I think you all should have a bit more faith in our exalted leader.” His voice is positively saturated in sarcasm.

Shadowheart scoffs, crossing her legs. “You always somehow manage to deflect everything onto another, don't you, Astarion?”

With a wave of his hand, Astarion begins to turn on his heels and walk back toward the direction of his tent. “This conversation has outgrown its purpose,” he replies. “And for that reason, I shall retire for the evening.”

He suddenly turns back around, eyes again meeting your own. “But before I go,” he states, raising his free arm above his side. He dips his head in a gentle bow, crossing that same arm over his chest. “Please, let me know if you'd care for a detailed report of all I've learned, thus far.”

Your eyes widen and heat creeps up your neck once more. The bastard is really doing this in the middle of camp? In front of everyone?

“Goodnight, my dear,” he says in a hushed tone. You catch his mouth turning upward into a devious smile, and he once again turns his back to you and continues his path toward his tent.

“Go-goodnight, Astarion,” you manage to choke out. “Thank you a-again for the boar.” He waves a hand in acknowledgement before retreating into the safety of his tent.

“So, Astarion is trying to teach himself the secrets of Necromancy, is he?” Gale says, hand rubbing over the tip of his chin. “Out of all the magicks of the Weave, Necromancy is one that is strictly forbidden.”

The conversation drifts into Gale giving an explanation of Mystra rejecting the practice of Necromancy for her followers. The rest of camp seems drawn to his story, though your eyes are fixated on the red fabric of Astarion's tent across camp.

Was he giving you an invitation to join him later tonight?

A shiver passes over you at the thought, and you deposit your bowl into the wash bin near the edge of the campfire. You stand and nod gently toward your companions, ushering well wishes of good sleep and pleasant dreams to each. They return the favor, and you begin to walk back toward the direction of your own tent.

Perhaps you'd pay Astarion a visit later, after everyone has settled in for the night. It seems as though he’s awfully eager to show you something.

Yes, you think you will pay him a visit. You just have to wait until the camp quells for the night… which you hope doesn't take much longer.

[zeebee3]

Dramione Month Day 6: Legilimens

Draco/Hermione

NSFW

Continuation of Day 5.

---

She broke the kiss a moment later.

“You really want this? It’s not just because I’m here and you’re—”

He cut her off with another slanting kiss, putting as much into it as he could. When he drew back, she was panting. 

“I’m only here and hard because of you,” he murmured. “Or did you think I needed a refresher on Interrogative and Defensive Mind Magicks?”

She blinked up at him. “Well…they’re very useful…it’s always good to hone skills.”

“I’m a natural Occlumens,” he reminded her. “And the skill transfers the other way, too.”

Her hands slid from his shoulders down to rest over his chest. Little hands, but strong. His heart pounded below her palms.

“So then…why did you come along?”

“You asked me if I’d be willing to attend the conference. I am.”

It was clear the answer surprised her, but then she huffed an incredulous laugh. 

“You came all the way to Zürich for a conference on a subject you’re naturally adept in just to, what, placate me?”

He shrugged a casual shoulder. “It’s quite a nice city. Incredible architecture. Amazing views.”

He dared to tuck a stray curl behind her ear, fully unobstructing his currently perfect view. When she huffed again, he couldn’t hold his smirk, gazing down at her with open affection. 

“You’re ridiculous,” she accused lightly. “Had you never considered just telling me how you felt?”

Countless times. A nearly unending thread of conversation in his head, scenarios built and summarily dismantled when reality tapped politely against his skull. The concept of confession was not new to him, but it still felt unfamiliar.

“All the time,” he murmured.

When she wet her bottom lip, he wondered if she could taste him still.  

“I’m sorry but I’m finding it a bit hard to believe that. You’ve always been so aloof. I’m a very perceptive person but until tonight, I had no idea you thought of me as anything but a mildly irksome colleague.”

“Mildly? You drive me mad.”

“So you’ve said. But you’ve never once…you’re always so reserved.”

Restrained, he wanted to correct, but she was close enough. 

“I have been, yes.”

The validation settled her slightly, shoulders dropping down. Total relaxation would be even better, so he inhaled deeply and offered himself up.

“I have all the data to back up my claim right here, if you’d like to practice honing your skills?”

“What, you mean…?” Her eyes flicked to his forehead, then back. “Really?”

Blame it on the lingering delirium of her kiss, or the pounding of his heart, or the unrelenting interest straining toward her, but in that moment, inviting her into his head seemed like the most logical solution to a very easy-to-solve problem. Let her see what he felt for her, and then she’d know and he could do something about it.

“Mmhmm.” He stroked the hinge of her jaw with his thumb, then let his fingers slide down the side of her neck to rest on her shoulder. “Get your wand. Have a look.”

It was, evidently, an easy choice for her, too. 

He’d been at the end of her wand tip before, many times, but in this instance, his only concern was for her. What would she think once she knew? He braced himself. 

“Legilimens,” she incanted, eyes locked on his, and then she was inside his head, and he let her see. 

Her striking amber eyes were first, as they always were, featured in flashes of memories: seeing them deep and thoughtful, sparkling with delight, narrowed in annoyance. 

And then her lips — he did his best to skate through those thoughts as quickly as her Legilimency allowed, pulling forward specific examples instead of his increasingly depraved ramblings. 

Across the refectory, sipping tea then shooting him a bemused smile over the rim. Leading a debriefing, commanding the room easily. Hunched over her desk, wand in her curls, exhausted but breathtaking. And all the associated feelings those moment had elicited in him: butterflies, hot arousal, yearning. 

And then he offered her specifics. A glimpse down her blouse, and the fantasies it had fueled for weeks, a rush of images that had never existed but were so clear, so often imagined, that they may as well have. 

And then a very real memory, offered to her as final proof for everything he’d claimed: a view down his abdomen, watching as he pinned the toy to the mattress, thick cock burying into it over and over as his thumb rubbed lazily, soothingly at the silicone clit. Whispered words, low and agonized, heralding the end. “What a good fucking girl, Hermione.”

She left his mind with a shudder. 

He was leaking all over himself, pants damp with his want after having re-lived so many moments he usually parceled out, but his attention was riveted on her. 

“See,” he managed, voice rough. “All the time.”

“I’m…” Her eyes were slightly glazed, cheeks flushed. “Overwhelmed. Oh gods. That’s…so much.”

He grimaced. “I tried to stem some of the images but you kept—”

She barked a laugh, tight and wild. “You, Malfoy. It can’t be—oh gods there’s no way—”

Desire shot through him, mixing potently with pride and affection. Holding her eye, he gently, carefully, gripped her wrist and slid her hand from his chest down his abdomen, stopping the buckle of his belt. 

“Go ahead. Find out.”

A small rotation within his hold, and then her palm was cupping him, eyes widening as she mapped him. 

“Oh…Godric.” Lips parted, eyes dropping — he preened. “Fuck, you’re…”

She found the tip and squeezed it lightly, seeing the pleasure in his face, then stroked him all the way up to the base. He had to bite his lip to stem the pathetic noise burning in his throat at her confident touch. 

“Can I see you?” she asked, the question tinged with wonderment. 

“Fuck. Absolutely.” He went to undo his belt but she got there first, batting his hands away and working the leather through the silver buckle. 

Her eyes only broke from his when the zipper snagged at the bulge, looking down to work over the obstacle begging to be set free. As soon as his fly was undone, she pulled at the waistband of his black briefs and dipped her hand inside. He sucked in a breath when her knuckles skimmed his pelvis and then hissed it out when she found his cock. 

“Oh…” The word faded as her lips parted, eyes rounding, and then she was tugging at the waistband, baring him to the room. “...fuck.”

It was silly to be proud of something he’d had no role in obtaining, but the feeling surged in his chest all the same. 

“You can touch,” he whispered, “if you like.”

She didn’t hesitate, her hand smoothing up his length in a single, devastating glide that made his next blink labored and sluggish. The number of times he’d imagined this very act–

The little crease between her brows was back, hinting at a busy mind. He wanted so desperately to know what she was thinking, except that she was still stroking his cock, and he’d been hard for her for years, and coping with the situation was getting dicey, let alone unpacking it in real-time. 

Maybe she’d get him off and then he’d be able to think fully; he’d make it up to her twenty times over. Or maybe he should pull her hand off and make it up to her first. Yes. That was the better route.

He was about to do just that when she squeezed until her middle finger and thumb touched, eyes flicking up to his when he grunted at the constriction. Oh…fucking hell. 

“This is…” She let go of him to grip her wrist, and a little sound of despair escaped when her fingers touched easily. “Jesus fuck, Draco.”

He wanted her hand back on him; was nearly dizzy with want and from standing for so long on only two of his available legs. 

“I told you. I don’t fit the standard size.”

“No, you most certainly do not.” She reached for him again, squeezing then stroking. “Right. Get on the bed. Straightaway.”

While her enthusiasm was intensely gratifying, he caught her elbow and pulled her to him. “Kiss me again?”

“I’m going to kiss you lots,” she assured him, but went up to press her lips to his obligingly. He leaned into it, turning it long and languid, savoring her. 

“I’m about to be nearly incoherent,” he explained softly, pecking another compulsive kiss to her lips. “Wanted one more to remember.”

She scoffed, amused and pleased. “Ridiculous man.”

“Want back inside my head?” he offered dryly. “I’m pathetically into you. There’s a massive chance this is going to kill me.”

She hummed a warm, alluring sound, and finally succeeded in tugging him to the bed, letting go to climb up and settle onto her back. “It certainly seems so. Trousers off; shirt too.”

From her place on the bed, she watched as he hurriedly undressed, tossing his shirt to the side and then kicking off his trousers, leaving everything in a rumpled mess. When she sat up to pull her own shirt off, he had to wrap his fingers at his base. 

“You should be on top,” he said, trying to keep a level head as she revealed dusky nipples, the well of her navel, a tidy strip of curls. “You’ll…uh, you’ll have more control over the depth and pace.”

She shook her head obstinately, tossing her knickers aside and then bringing her knees up, feet wide. “I don’t want the control — I want to feel you on top of me, breaking me open.”

He had to squeeze his eyes shut against the double-punch of her words and body. “Don’t—Merlin fucking hell, Granger. Fuck.”

“I trust you,” she promised. “You showed me what you want. And I want you to have it. If you don’t believe me, then come have a look for yourself.”

It wasn't an idle invitation, he knew, and so he took it, needing to be sure. A wand wasn’t necessary for him; neither was opening his eyes or his mouth. He just felt for her behind his lids and whispered the word to himself, slow and curling. Legilimens.

She’d been ready for him; had the image front and center for his consumption. He devoured it. 

A view down her abdomen, muscles tensing, legs wide, the toy in her hand glistening with every retreat, every thrust forward met with a burst of pleasure. Thick. Almost as thick as her wrist. 

”It’ll fit,” she whispered, in his mind and out loud. “See? I’m so good at taking it.”

The reality of his present circumstances hit a moment later. He was inside her mind; she’d let him in and wanted him to know—

He was on the bed a moment later, crawling over her, pushing her thighs wider to fit himself between them, scrambling to get out of her mind before he fully lost control. He had just enough coherence left to look down, wanting to memorize the sight of himself resting over her pelvis, when she instantly foiled any plans at retention by dropping a hand and pressing his length solidly against her. He felt the soft heat of her belly, the raw need conveyed in her touch, and groaned, oozing precum into her navel.

“Gods,” he whined, hips jerking forward involuntarily. “Please, can I–?”

She encircled him, pushing him lower. “Absolutely, yes.” 

He took over, as she’d requested, but despite the memory she’d shown him, knew she needed preparation. Lips pressed to her throat, and then her collarbones as he supported himself on a forearm beside her head and sank a finger deep. She rocked up against his wrist, keening again, and grabbed for him, fingers raking into his hair. 

One was easy, two were snug, three were a stretch. 

He panted against her breast then withdrew his fingers to work them over her clit, licking his way up to her mouth, muffling her moans. 

She nipped at his lip, sucked it, then broke off to pant, “Inside.”

It was overwhelming. To stroke himself and feel her arousal coat him; to push against the source of it and be slowly welcomed in. Her fingers dug into the muscles of his back as he eased himself inside, the way made easier once she’d taken the broad head. 

Her breath left her in a gasp as he reached under her lower back to lift, adjusting the angle until he could sink in to the hilt. It was better than even his most careful fantasies, the ones that he sat with for days, stitching together until it felt real enough that when he fucked his toy, it truly felt like her.

It hadn’t though – not even close. Where the silicone gave way, she hugged. Where it dried, she was soaked and getting wetter. And when he reached between them to thumb at her clit, she stuttered out his name.

It was the response to his call that he’d yearned for; he kissed it off her tongue, then called it forth again and again until her nails were biting into his skin and the end was reaching for him with two, tight fists. 

“You feel–” There weren't any words. “You’re so–Is this–?”

“So good,” she panted. “Gods, you feel so much better.”

He didn’t need to ask than what, not when his own toy would now be relegated to second place; to the bin. But despite all his fervent practice with it, it seemed the toy had been insufficient stamina training when he was inundated with her. The barrage of sensation – her scent, her touch, her sounds, her pleasure – was breaking him down until he was careening to the edge, doing whatever he could to pull her over with him. 

“Is it enough?” He worked his thumb over her clit, palm warm and heavy above where he could feel – fuck – feel himself thrusting inside. “What can I do?”

“Just don’t stop,” she moaned.

Well. Then he was about to fail her. 

If only he could get his tongue between her legs without needing to move–

He dropped his forehead to hers and offered her a thought, rich in detail, saturated with desire: the slow, steady suction of a mouth, the wet curl of a tongue strumming; relentless, endless pressure.

“Draco,” she whined. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

Her body closed down around him, arms and legs and inner walls until she was shaking and, blissfully, miraculously, coming. The constriction was like nothing he’d ever felt, the pulses strong and coaxing until he was stammering out her name, orgasm wracking through him and into her, mind and body. 

When coherence slowly returned, he eased out of her mind but let his hips rest heavily against hers, luxuriating in the little aftershocks. Her arms were slack around his shoulders, mouth ajar against his, catching her breath.

“Holy shit,” she panted. “Jesus, that was–holy shit.”

“Should have asked,” he mumbled, giving her a lazy kiss before slipping sideways to nuzzle into the crook of her neck. “The mind thing. And the coming inside thing.”

“Both were…” She huffed a laugh, sliding an arm up his back to card through his hair. “Gods.”

“Good.” He exhaled, exhausted and the most sated of his life. “Good.”

“Better than good.” Her fingers swirled through his hair idly. “You ought to be up there leading the seminar.”

He huffed a laugh against her curls. “Ah, yes. How to Make a Witch Come with Thoughts. Lesson one: be pathetically desperate for her, and uninhibited with letting her see it.” He raised his head to slant a grin down at her. “Think it’d be well attended?”

“Hmm, I’m not sure.” Her responding smile was cheeky, the edge of her lip caught in her teeth. “Should I practice the first lesson, and you can give me pointers?”

She kissed his cheek then encouraged him over onto his back, following him over to sit over his hips. “Okay, Draco. Lesson one. Ready?” 

Mouth dry, he nodded. Her eyes were fond as they held his, the amber as warm and inviting as her soft word.

“Legilimens.”

(fin)

[cocoagenie]

𝙄ñ𝙖𝙠𝙞 𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙤𝙮 𝙭 𝘽𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙛𝙚𝙢 | 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝘿𝘾𝘼𝙉𝙊𝙉 <3

[P💕: i crave him]

[Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more !]

Shenanigans

☆ Iñaki can definitely be troublesome if he's bored. I'm talking face/body paint cosplays, hiding your things, pranking you with his perfect acting skills type of trouble

• its truly hilarious and a bit concerning to catch him with his whole face green and a dinosaur stuffed hat clipped around his head

☆ "ki.." he has his back to you and stares at the walls like there much more important

• will scream over games in his phone, for instance if iñaki runs out of time and fails a challenge you can here him crying out from the bathroom

☆ he suggests the craziest things on tiktok and you are a sucker for a good time despite you both hating to clean up behind yourselves. You have an eighteen minute long video of you both slipping on the soapy kitchen floor btw ;p

• iñaki often walks around your apartment a bit weirdly so he's bound to stub a toe or bump his shoulder into the edge of the wall, always cursing in Spanish which makes you burst into laughter

☆ you both truly are unfiltered around eachother and hes feels so lucky that he got two for one, (you're not only his best friend but your his girlfriend too.) Iñaki thinks that's epic

• skating time is sublime.

• "you– geezer, just hold onto me?" You laughed as Iñaki rolled around the skating ring like an elder on life support, he obliged but that cost you with the way he gripped your hands.

☆ "Damn, kiki!"

• "Slow down!!" He wobbled.

☆ "We not going no damn where!"

• on the court he will demolish you. Iñaki's always in your face, running around you as he dribbles the ball and shoots, it hits the rim sometimes

☆ "you're ass.." you kick some pebbles as he jogs for his rebound and runs back to you with a grin. Sweat beading at his forehead and wetting the roots of his curls.

• "oh? well then you make the hoop" you both are nearly the same height but he's still slightly taller. (He looks scrumptious in loose tanktops fyi) The basketball is pushed to you as you roll your eyes and take it. Iñaki situates beside you and watches you move forward but hands on your hips pull you back.

☆ "Do it from here." You got ready to argue but just huffed and dribbled the ball once to make sure it was hard enough and not flat. Your dominant arm bended and launched the ball for the edge of the square. It rolled around the rim but fell off and Iñaki suppressed a laugh.

• he talks so fast in English and Spanish that you often tell him to slow down. He laughs at that because he's still getting used to someone truly listening instead of talking over him

☆ iñaki flexes his facial hair and that often gains your attention so he ends up getting his mustache and sideburns cleaned up while you're on his lap

• "please amor, don't cut it too much."

☆ "shh shh, look?" You raised the mirror and when he saw the results iñaki felt ten times more flashier and he thanked you with a big kiss of course

• bro looses his marbles when he can't find his glasses and you love to watch him suffer as he looks everywhere while their RIGHT ONTOP OF HIS HEAD.

The sweet things

☆ he needs to have you by his side but doesn't like to really admit it so when you're doing something or simply lounging around he'll come to you like puppy and lean on you, or play with/link your hands

• iñaki bites and asks before hand too lol

☆ teaches you his first language and loves how you have your way of pronouncing certain words, he also praises you and says you sound like a natural after correctly saying a sentence

• love love lovesss your cheek kisses since your lips are already plump and soft. Fall is here and it tends to get chilly so iñaki jokingly asks you to prescribe him with some so he doesn't freeze to death

☆ let's you play in his hair especially when it grows out, you put it in ponytails, side cornrows and twists until he's snoring against you

• iñaki doesn't have a foot fetish but will massages your feet when their sore. He's the best at it, courtesy of the practice with his mother

☆ since you love vinyls and CD's he brings you shopping with him at special stores that sell hand me downs, movie cds or song records

• you both enjoy a good thrifting spree!

☆ picnic dates are sweet but getting something to eat downtown and exploring the lower city makes you feel like jasmine and iñaki is obviously your aladdin <3

• "should we jay walk?" You look at the currently empty street as iñaki's hand is gripped in yours, his eyes keep flickering down both ends of the street before he suddenly tugs you across with him

☆ "Vamanos, vamanos!" You snort and run across as you both eventually make it to the car.

• he often asks you why you fell in love with him and you're always ready to provide an answer.

☆ "You have this weird charm that I'm drawn to.. plus you were kinda mysterious with the way you used to sta-"

• "okay okay I get it!"

☆ "Nah you used to stare into my soul remember?"

• Iñaki felt incredibly shy around you, he still does now that you're both together he just knows how to hide it now ;)

☆ matching charm bracelets and rings. 😭

• he's the pure embodiment of "just happy to be there!"

☆ will always polish the hand you can't do

THE END ♡

[A/N: I AM SATISFIED.]

[babydollmarauders]

have u seen the video of jason kelces daughter pointing out aj browns pink shows during the nfl game? anyway, theres definitely a video of little el pointing out her daddy on screen and its the cutest thing ever. shes like "daddy again! i see him mommy! oh! i see him again!" and jack literally melts when he sees the video because its literally the cutest thing ever

i love this so much 😭

it’s definitely when she’s like 3 and he’s on a roadie, Lovie just thinks it’s too cute to not record

***

it should’ve never surprised me how focused my daughter could become whenever a hockey game is involved.

with every male in her life being a former or current player, there’s constant hockey around her. i guess i just never assumed that at three years old, she could be so content in watching a hockey game.

El is sat on the couch when i return from the nursery, her bowl of fruit next to her and her eyes laser focused on the Devils game that plays on the tv. she looks over as i sit beside her, taking note of my empty arms.

“my Leo sleeping?” she wonders, her eyes wide and curious.

i wrap an arm around my daughter, pulling her close to me as my other hand runs through her wild blonde curls.

“yeah, lovely. Elio is asleep, so we can’t be too loud, okay?” she nods at my words, laying her head against my chest and dialing back into the game.

i tune in as well, noticing the score has yet to change from 0-0 since i left to put my son to sleep. it’s well into the second period, and i know my husband and his teammates must be frustrated.

i’m proven correct when the camera pans to the bench, where Jack heatedly converses with his brother.

“mommy!” El’s head pops up from its spot, her sticky little hand patting my cheek to make sure i’m paying attention. “it’s daddy! and uncle Luke!”

“yeah?” i laugh, pressing i kiss to the top of her head.

“yeah! i see them, mommy!” her voice is near yelling, high with excitement as she leaves my arms, bounding closer to the television.

the camera is back on the ice now, where the ref calls a penalty on the other team for tripping.

sliding my phone out of my back pocket, i swipe into the camera app, discreetly propping the now recording phone up on a toy on the coffee table. the camera captures the expanse of the half of the living room that El and i currently occupy, providing a good shot of my daughter that stands at the tv, and of me where i sit on the sofa.

i focus back on the game, my husband on the current power play unit.

he passes the puck back and forth with his teammates around the opposing teams net, and in a matter of seconds, he’s got the puck back and he’s shooting it straight past the goalie.

a wide grin spreads across my lips, a squeal escaping me in excitement.

“GO DADDY!” El cheers, jumping up and down in front of the tv. she turns back to look at me and runs over, climbing back up on my lap. “he did it, mommy! daddy got a goal!”

“he did, munchkin!” she climbs back down, looking back at the tv.

“daddy again! i see him mommy!” she calls out as the screen zooms in on a closeup of my smiling husband before panning back out to show him skating over to the bench.

the game cuts to media break and i look back at El’s smiling face, a spitting image of Jack’s smile.

when the game returns, it opens on a shot of Jack sitting on the bench, talking animatedly to Nico.

“oh! i see him again!” El cries out, pointing at the tv as she bounces around. “that’s daddy! that’s my daddy!”

i gather my phone from the table, cutting off the recording as my daughter rejoins me on the couch. she curls up in my lap, pulling the bowl of fruit on the couch back into her own lap.

i quickly send the video to Jack, for him to watch when he gets back to his hotel, and then set my phone down on the arm of the couch, wrapping my arms around my three year old.

we sit like this for the remainder of the game, El falling asleep during the second intermission, and only once the Devils have won 3-1, do i move her into her bed.

i turn the tv off, cleaning up the living room and placing the empty bowl from El’s fruit into the dishwasher before retreating to my own room for the rest of the night. i plug my phone in, changing into my pajama’s, brushing my teeth, and washing my face before climbing into my bed.

i’m just about to turn my lamp off when my phone begins to ring, and i look over to see an incoming facetime from Jack.

accepting the call, it’s no more than a few seconds before it connects, his smiling face filling my screen.

“hi, love.” i greet, smiling back at him.

“hi, lovie. El asleep now?” he questions, and i notice his hair is damp, apparently freshly washed, but he’s not in his hotel room, rather sitting on the plane.

“yeah, she fell asleep during second intermission.” i tell him. “pretty sure she was just waiting for you to score before she let herself crash.”

he chuckles and i speak again, “i thought you guys weren’t coming home until tomorrow afternoon?”

“no, we’re about to take off. i’ll be back by the time you wake up, i just wanted to talk to you before you go to sleep.”

my heart flutters in my chest. eight years together and he still never fails to make me feel like i have a schoolgirl crush.

“i loved that video, thank you for capturing that. and for sending it.” his eyes are soft, and i know he must be missing El a lot right now.

“yeah, well, i wanted you to see your number one fan.” i laugh, and he feigns offense, holding his free hand to his chest.

“i thought you were my number one fan.”

“i think El’s got me beat now.” i exaggerate a pout and he chuckles.

“i gotta go, we’re about to take off.” he sighs, and i nod in understanding. “i’ll see you when i get home. i love you, beautiful.”

“i love you too, love. see you when you get home.”

[lassieposting]

Okay but. For anyone who's unfamiliar with the UK. Pop-up street funfairs are kind of a Thing here - they show up for carnivals and village fetes and shit and when you grow up in the middle of buttfuck nowhere like I did they might be the only entertainment you'll get all year, so you really come to love the atmosphere and the strobing lights and the pounding music and the nostalgia of better, easier, safer times.

And every year, in London, they have the Hyde Park Winter Festival, which is hands down the biggest pop-up funfair I've ever seen.

Anyway hc that the year Lucy runs away to London, Lockwood and George take her to the festival. It's George's idea - she is from the Barbarous Wastes Oop North, Lockwood, she's probably never seen a funfair before, and she does gasp and go all wide-eyed every time their taxi drives past it - and Lockwood pays, because his house might be mortgaged to the hilt, he might be practically a serf, but he's the boss and he's pretty sure he still owes George a tenner anyway for those beers, so, whatever -

And it's just a whole thing for Lucy because she's never really been treated before. Everything she's needed since she was thirteen came out of her Jacobs' wages. Her mum never spent a penny on her that wasn't absolutely necessary, and begrudged her even that. So she's always had to be a penny-pincher, always had to deny herself fun things because her wages were being spent on essentials or frittered away on pints of Fosters, and being able to do whatever she likes purely for her own pleasure is utterly foreign to her.

And he doesn't make her feel bad for it. For wanting to have fun for once. Neither of them do. George spouts useless facts about when rides were invented and the origins of ice skates, and sometimes puts his fingers in his ears with a grimace, but when she grins at him, he grins back. Lockwood plays the yes-man for her all evening, eyes twinkling when she hangs off his arm or pulls him over to see something by the wrist. He stumps up for candyfloss, for sweetie cones, for fresh donuts and hook-a-duck and the shooting gallery, because "You were looking at it like you wanted it." She has three goes on a claw machine trying to get a particular stuffed dog, and then Lockwood has a go, before George finally wins it for her. And she loves them so much, these boys who put her first more than her own family ever did.

She falls asleep on Lockwood's shoulder in the taxi on the way home. Mostly. She dozes, at least. She's still vaguely cognizant of what's going on around her - the low hum of the radio, the pulse of the taxi's engine, George's voice when he leans around her and says, "I didn't realise you noticed that thing she does."

She's been faintly aware of Lockwood's arm around her shoulders since he put it there, when she started listing drowsily into his side, but she hadn't noticed his thumb idly petting back and forth until it stills. "Thing? What thing?"

"The thing," says George helpfully. "Where she looks at things like she wants them but she knows she can't have them."

Lockwood snorts. It's a small, derisive sound, probably accompanied by an eye roll. "I'd make a pretty piss-poor agent if I hadn't. She does it at lots of things."

"Oh." George seems to muse on that for a second. Then, "Just you never seem to notice when she does it at you."

Lockwood goes very still, for a second. Clears his throat, just quietly. His arm jostles her a bit; she thinks he's fussing with his cufflinks, which he seems to do a lot ever since he started wearing them in the first place. His voice is warm, though. "Shut up, George."

"Yes, boss." Irreverent. Grinning, probably.

With her face tucked into his shoulder, Lucy smiles, and lets herself drift.

[slafkovskys]

i know jack and quinn are actually so happy a majority of angels pregnancy will be occurring over offseason and when the baby is born, they can wear a playoff jacket the next year

sorry i’m getting ahead of myself

- 🧸

i said i was going to wait, but i couldn’t

“oh, you wanna go to your dad?” angel mumbles as her daughter reaches out for quinn. he chuckles, taking the little girl and pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand when she grips his chin, “fix her shirt, quinny. her belly’s out.”

“and we can’t have that, can we? does your mom know you’ve spent half your life in vancouver?” he jokes, pulling down the dark gray sweatshirt she was wearing that proudly displayed an 86 on her back and daddy written above. her brother was wearing a matching one, wherever jim had taken him in their suite, and angel even had a matching one as well, but she hadn’t been able to make herself wear it. cheers sound from the arena cause the two to share a look, “looks like we’re missing something.”

“and i want my other baby,” she announces, leading the way for them to where jim and a few other members of the boys family had gathered in their seats. she spots jim holding his grandson and she smiles, taking the empty seat beside him, “may i?”

“if you must,” he sighs, handing the almost seven month old over. a squeal sounds from behind them and jim leans his head back to find quinn with their daughter, “can i steal that one?”

“just be careful with her headphones. she’s been trying to take them off all game,” quinn hands his daughter to his father, watching with a proud grin as she bounces on his knees excitedly.

angel hums, watching the jumbotron as the devils take the ice again for the second period, “she was doing that in vancouver too. it’s weird, this guy’s the one who usually doesn’t like things on his head.”

vancouver had clenched their spot in the playoffs early, but a game five loss had sent them off as quickly as they came. after a swift locker clean out day, both quinn and angel were booking it to new jersey with the twins for what was sure to be a nail biting game seven.

jack had been all too enthusiastic to pull her into the foyer for a quick makeout session before being chastised for trying to wake up the babies to see them in their devils gear for the first time. with a pout on his lips as his own mother joined in on the chiding, jack swore they looked cute in their canucks sweaters, but “my kids look better in devils colors.”

quinn narrows his eyes as he sits one of the car seats on the counter, “and my kids look good in canucks colors.”

“and if you two even think about saying anything else, my kids will be wearing beige to games from now on,” the hands on her hips and the raised eyebrow daring them to say more ends that argument just as quickly as it had begun.

“have i ever told you that you’re my favorite child,” jim questions her as the baby he was holding grabs onto the strings of his jacket. quinn snorts behind them and she smirks,

“once or twice,” she stands her son up on her legs and points down to the ice, “look, daddy’s on the ice.”

they all watch as jack gains possession of the puck and shoots down the ice. he passes it off as he inches towards the goal, only to regain possession a moment later and lining up for a shot that glides right over the goalie’s shoulder. everyone shoots up as they realize the puck goes through, jack putting the first point on the scoreboard two minutes into the period.

she bounces her son in her arms as jim shakes their daughter’s hands, eyes trained on the jumbotron as the players on the ice surround her partner. something pangs in her chest as she catches sight of the other hughes jersey on the ice, who sends a pat to the head of his brother before skating away. she blinks before pressing a quick kiss to the baby’s soft cheek, trying not to let thoughts of him consume her. thankfully, ellen makes her way down the stairs and takes a seat beside her, pulling out her phone, “i wanted to show you the pictures i took of the boys and the babies before jack left.”

she sniffles, leaning closer to the woman, “please.”

[theother-victoria]

mille-feuilles have never tasted so sweet

SYNOPSIS: an ice-skating outing with your girlfriend takes a very sweet turn

CHARACTERS: furina

NOTES: for @reilly34 as part of favonius library's secret santa event- I hope you enjoy!

The holidays in Fontaine have always been a special occasion. The air always smelled of freshly-baked desserts and hot cocoa within the city and by Lady Furina’s orders, the streets were to always be decorated. Lampposts, trees, and archways would be covered in lights. The aquabuses would receive a fresh coat of paint and large ribbons that would flutter in the wind while the Melusines would receive a special holiday uniform as they ferried curious visitors in and out of the city. 

(“Let the children of Fontaine be merry!” she would say. “‘Tis a joyous occasion worth celebrating. It is only just that I, their great archon, give the people what they want during these special times!” Or something along those lines.)

Even though Lady Furina has abdicated the throne, it seems as if her wish to spread some holiday cheer continued to live on. Quartier Lyonnais is busier than ever with people doing their holiday shopping. (a large Blubberbeast plushie on display makes you pause. It would make a nice present for her. You mentally remind yourself to buy it later today if it's still in stock.) Boulangeries and patisseries are drawing large crowds from their mouthwatering goods. You make the impulsive decision to snag some holiday-themed mille-feuilles that are on sale for Furina. She’d like them for sure.

You circle around the area in front of the Palais Mermonia, which had been converted into a public outdoor skating rink with the help of some Cryo vision holders. It’s crowded with families and their children. Past that and a block down is a quieter residential area where the former archon’s apartment is. Though the curtains are drawn, you can see that a light is on inside. She’s been acting nonchalant about your visit all week but as you approach the front door, you can hear her muffled pacing and talking to herself.

“Do these boots…? No, they clash with my coat. How about…?”

You knock and you hear her startled yelp.

“Lady Furina, dear. It’s me,” you call out. “I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.” 

You can hear her scramble to get the door and a moment later, the door flies open to reveal your dearest Furina. 

“Perfect timing! I need your help on deciding what to wear.”

You walk inside and place the bag of freshly-baked desserts on the coffee table. (You don’t miss how her eyes follow your every move and light up once she smells what’s inside.) 

“Hmm… I don’t think my taste in fashion could ever compare to you, Miss Furina de Fontaine.”

“Naturally,” she declares, her head held high in the air. But the facade quickly melts away, revealing the mellowed-out and humbled person your girlfriend had become.

“But I’d say you come a very close second. Now, tell me what I should wear.”

“Just choose something that’ll be easy to slip on and off. I have faith in your aesthetics so I’m not too worried about that.” 

She looks at you strangely. You shoot her a little wink.

“You’ll see why.”

“So, what’s this all about?”

“I wanted to do something for the holidays, but I know big crowds aren’t your thing anymore.”

You walk by the public outdoor skating rink from earlier and you don’t miss how she hides behind you. Luckily, everyone was too busy having fun to notice their former archon just a few feet away from them. 

“... But that doesn’t change the fact that I still want to do something special for you. Come on, we’re heading outside the city.”

With a gentle tug, you pull her along with you. You weave between the streets and alleyways, eventually ending up on the outskirts of the city. After consulting your map, going in circles several times, and getting lost at one point, you eventually arrive at your destination: a beach on the northwestern coast of Fontaine. The sand is covered by thick sheets of snow and the water has frozen over. 

You stride toward the waters and test out the thickness of the ice. Meanwhile, Furina looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind.

“... But there’s nothing here?”

“Nothing here but the two of us, and that was the point. I wanted this to be a moment shared only between us and no one else.”

You grab your pair of ice skates and toss your bag to her. Catching it, she realizes there’s a pair inside for her too. 

“I-Ice skating?” she stammers. “But I’ve never done this before…”

“Never thought I’d hear you say those words,” you say as you lace your skates up. “What happened to the Furina I know, who learned surfing in record time despite not having any experience with it beforehand?”

Your Cryo vision, which had been resting dormant atop the back of your hand, comes to life with a bright glow. Thick ice spreads out before your foot and you harshly stomp on it- it doesn’t even budge and with how cold it is, the ice should last. 

“Besides, I’m here as well. Do you trust me?”

Without hesitation, she grabs your outstretched hands with both of hers. 

“With my life now that I’m mortal.”

“Then, keep your eyes on me.”

You slowly glide along the ice, pulling her with you. The ice generated by your vision spreads out until it extends as far as your eye can see. It’s calm and quiet, only disrupted by the sounds of your skates against ice.

Furina’s legs start to wobble and her hand begins to slip out of your grasp. Without missing a beat, you 

After some time, you can tell she’s getting used to the rhythm of skating and has even tried mimicking your movements with some guidance from you.

(“Try to mirror my footwork. Think of it as a dance. I move back, you move forward.”)

“I’m going to let go of you now, ok?”

She nervously nods and… promptly falls on her ass the moment you let go of her hands. Naturally, you help her up but not before laughing a bit first. 

“That hurt,” she whines as you lift her back up onto her feet.

“Need my help again?”

She furiously shakes her head.

“No. I want to learn how to do this by myself.”

She dusts herself off and tries skating again on shaky legs, like a newborn foal. Knowing how stubborn she can be, you leave her to her devices, only returning every time you hear a loud yelp and a thud before lifting her off the ice again. 

“(Name), look! I think I’m getting it!”

You look back to see your girlfriend skating her way toward you- slowly and shakily- but still doing it nonetheless.

A light snow begins to fall overhead. It’s just the two of you skating in lazy figure-eights. You pull her to a stop and point toward the city where even out here, you can see Fontaine all decorated and lit up for the holidays. 

“Look at how beautifully Fontaine shines,” she whispers, her shoulders bumping against yours.

“Look at how beautifully you shine,” you respond. It’s true. Underneath the moonlight, her white hair shines like silver and the blue streaks shimmer like the ice beneath your feet.  Your dearest Furina looks like those legendary water nymphs you’d read about in storybooks as a child, renowned for their bewitching beauty. 

I am so lucky to call her mine. What did I do to deserve her?

I am so lucky to call them mine. What did I do to deserve them?

The walk back is a joyous one. It’s getting late and stores are beginning to close down. You pass by the shop you saw earlier selling the Blubberbeast plushie and remembering your mental note from earlier, you stop in to buy it for Furina. Was it pricey? Yes. But did seeing the starry-eyed look on your girlfriend’s face make the hefty price tag worth it? Also yes.

You come to a stop in front of her apartment, the street lamp flickering to life above you. 

“I’ll be heading home now, Furina. Good night, and-”

“Wait.”

You look back to see your girlfriend glancing off to the side with an adorable pout and flush on her cheeks. 

“... Can I have a kiss?”

You laugh lightly at her request and in a few strides, you’re standing in front of her again. 

“Haven’t I already told you? You don’t need to ask.”

Only the light snow is witness to your shared kiss. Her lips are soft and they taste like peppermint and dark chocolate. They’re just as cold as yours from the freezing winter winds. 

When you finally pull away from each other, gasping for air, you rest your forehead against hers, warming her hands up in your equally-cold ones.

“Did you sneak a bite of the dessert I brought you?”

“When you weren’t looking,” she cheekily replies. Her expression softens, losing all its playfulness as her sincerity shows through.

“Thank you, (Name). For the first time, the holidays don’t feel as lonely anymore.”

She giggles. 

“I’ve always liked mille-feuilles, but I never knew they could taste so sweet.” 

[a-court-of-lust-and-stardust]

Love on Ice Chapter 6: The Second Flashback

@chachachai17 and I hope you enjoy chapters 6 and 7 tonight ❤️

5 years ago, age 21

Elain applied a thin coat of lipstick and fluffed her hair once, checking herself in the mirror a last time before heading downstairs. She felt pretty, and allowed herself to feel a sliver of excitement. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, Elain decided nothing could tarnish her mood. 

On the floor in the living area, Feyre was surrounded by tubes of paint and an untouched canvas. She glanced at Elain, shooting a wink her way. “Where are you going all dolled up?”

Elain blushed and nodded her thanks. “It’s Laverna’s twenty-first birthday. She’s having a party at her home in the Dawn Region. She invited me the last time I saw her at the ice rink. I wasn't going to go but,” Elain rubbed her arm sheepishly. “I figured I might enjoy myself. I don’t plan on being out very long, though.” 

“Who else is going?” Feyre asked, squirting paint onto a glass pallete. She’d chosen a variation of pinks and golds and purples. Brushes were spread widely around the floorboards. 

“Aspen from Winter and Zarah from Spring. They're both ice dancers. We’re not really friends, but we talk once in a while. I thought I could get out of the house and have some fun before the competition tomorrow.” 

“You thought wrong,” Mama said, slinking into the living area with a steaming cup of tea. She didn't spare a glance toward Elain as she sat down on the sofa and said, “The only thing you're doing tonight is going upstairs, taking all of your makeup off, putting on your skating attire, and heading over to the rink for one last practice.” 

Elain and Feyre shared a look. 

“Mama, I haven't really made friends since we moved here,” Elain pointed out gently, ringing her fingers together. “These girls are nice to me and I would like to get to know them better.” 

"You do not need friends,” Mama said, eyes flashing to her face before landing on the television. Mama never looked at Elain for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“I think Elain deserves to build her own connections,” Feyre advocated quietly, spreading gold paint on the canvas. 

“Distractions,” Mama corrected sharply, kicking off her slippers, curling her legs underneath her bottom. The sisters flinched. “Friendships are distractions, and the last thing your sister needs is to be preoccupied.”

“I’m fully prepared for the competition tomorrow,” Elain defended, though her voice had grown shaky. Feyre’s gaze was one of pity. 

“You can never be too prepared,” Mama spat back. “Just this week, you fell during a twizzle. A twizzle! And look at what your sister is doing right now. She’s spending her weekend perfecting her craft. You don’t see her out and about with any companions, do you?”

“That's because they were all busy tonight,” Feyre muttered under her breath, pressing the brush harder against the canvas. 

“And Nesta has been at the studio for nine hours today and she’s still not home,” Mama remarked, sipping from her mug. “That is dedication. Something you surely lack.” 

Elain’s tears dampened her mascara, black streaks running down her rosy cheeks. So much for spending hours on making herself look beautiful. 

“Mama, Elain is one of the most dedicated people I know,” Feyre complimented, smiling sadly at her older sister. Elain shook her head, a silent plea for Feyre to stay quiet. Nothing either of them said would change Mama’s mind. 

Mama huffed, shaking her head. “Then that’s truly a shame,” She glanced toward Elain once more, face void of warmth. “Call your friends and tell them you are not coming. The rink closes in two hours, so you’d best get a move on. And don’t you ever pull a stunt like this again or else you’ll skate until your toes bleed.” 

And when Elain had changed into her sweater and leggings and flung her skating bag over her shoulder, she hadn’t bothered saying goodbye. 

ARTWORK FOR THE CHAPTER BY @chachachai17: Here

DIVIDER BY: @saradika-graphics

[lilac--sugar]

The Party, the whole extended party, is at the Byers-Hopper home. Well, all but Max. They’re all congregated around the kitchen table as Lucas explains his plans for Max’s surprise birthday party. He’s got hand drawn diagrams that he’s pointing to, talking excitedly. He wants everything to be perfect.

“Got it?” Lucas asks and everyone nods, everyone but Steve.

“I don’t get it,” he comments which prompts a few eye rolls and a groan from Dustin.

“Well, essentially,” Eddie starts, nudging Steve’s arm gently and pointing down at one of Lucas’s cartoonish stick figure like pictures.

“We don’t have time for this,” Dustin groans again.

“Right, if we want to catch Max as she’s coming back from the skate park we’ve got to get moving!” Nancy says, grabbing up her purse.

Robin gives Steve a sympathetic pat on the back as she hurries after Nancy. Everyone was divvied up into different tasks and already splitting off. Steve is left standing there with his brow furrowed as he looks down at the pictures.

“Come on!” Dustin‘s waving at Steve and Eddie as he makes his way out the door to Steve’s car. The three of them are on pizza duty.

Eddie quickly scrambles to scoop up all the drawings, “Come on, handsome, I’ll explain while you drive,” he says, slipping his free hand into Steve’s, pulling him along. An action not uncommon between the two of them. Both of them comfortable enough with their little affections, always left wanting more but just never speaking up. Both a little afraid to.

“No, I mean, I get it. It’s just,” he shuts the door behind them as they pass over the threshold, “won’t she know something’s up if all our cars are parked outside the house?”

Eddie stops dead in his tracks, causing Steve to bump into the back of him.

“Steve, you glorious bastard,” Eddie’s breaking out into a giant grin, the kind Steve likes to think he saves only for him, “Dusty buns! Radio the crew and tell them to park down the street!” He shouts.

Dustin returns with a quick, “Rodger! Also! Don’t call me that!”

“Not gonna do that!” Eddie shouts back before turning back to Steve, “You’re so smart I could kiss you,” Eddie says, his grin turning more playful, head tilting as his eyes slip down to Steve’s lips. Steve doesn’t know how to respond to that. He opens his mouth like he’s going to, cheeks blooming vibrant pink. Eddie quickly cuts him off, “No time, however! We have a quest to finish!” Eddie flings the two of them off into the direction of the car.

“Maybe later though,” Eddie teases as they settle down into their seats, Dustin popping his head between them.

“Maybe later, what?” He asks, looking between the two.

“Don’t worry your little head,” Eddie says, flicking Dustin’s hat off to ruffle his hair. When Dustin ducks back to grab his hat Eddie winks at Steve.

“You’re all bark and no bite,” Steve says, throwing caution to the wind. He’s tired of not speaking up, much to Eddie’s surprise, his eyebrows popping up. After a second a devious grin slowly creeps over Eddie’s face, one that would rival that of the Grinch’s.

“Is that so?" Eddie asks, Steve nodding in reply, "Oh, you’re on,” Eddie’s curling his tongue over his upper lip. Dustin pops his head between them once more.

“Promise?” Steve asks.

“Promise.” Eddie confirms. Dustin’s ping ponging his eyes between the two.

“Good,” Steve says simply, starting the car and pulling away.

“Good,” Eddie echoes.

“What the hell is happening!?” Dustin asks, for once being utterly out of the loop.

“Sit back and put your seatbelt on!” Steve quips.

“But-“

“Listen to your mother!” Eddie shoots back and Dustin just rolls his eyes as the other two share a glance and a grin.

[oh-snapperss]

Sweater Weather

quick little ficlet for @nuggets4fools I wrote a few weeks ago! It’s not polished in the slightest but it’s impossibly cheesy fluff so enjoy!

----------------------------------------------------------

It’s cold this morning.

Actually, scratch that, it’s fucking freezing. 

Bdubs shoots upright in his bed and hikes the blankets up around him as frigid air hits his skin. Shivering against the cold fabric, he squints at the window of his room, where curtains cover any light from the outside. 

Where they should be covering the light. Bdubs glares to where the wind has thrown his curtains open, and is blowing gusts of snow through the window he must have forgotten to close the night previously. 

Ohhhh, he’s going to have to clean up all the water from the melted snow later. 

Fuck.

Well, he could get out of bed and get soaked socks as a reward, or he could… 

Inhale. 

“ETHOOOOO!”

It takes a minute, but he hears hurried footsteps approaching. “What is it, ‘Dubs? If you want me to cuddle you could have just come to my room instead of waking me u-“

Etho’s complaining cuts off when he opens the door and is immediately hit in the face with a gust of wind, ice, and snow. Indignantly sputtering, he drags his shirt across his face and wipes his hand in his hair, leaving it sticking straight up in places.

Bdubs stifles a snicker, which Etho picks up on immediately. He glares at Bdubs and attempts to flatten the part sticking up. Somehow he only succeeds in making it worse, so he gives up.

“Really?” Etho gestures at the window. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to become one with the icicles?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Bdubs shivers even more violently. He’s not really cold now, but he really doesn’t want to get up to go close the window, so he’s going to sell this aa best he can. “Could you please close it for me?”

There’s a long beat of silence, and Bdubs can feel the judgment radiating from Etho with how every second he looks more like he’s about to close the door and leave.

“...please?”

Etho snorts at that. “Oh, you’re too much of a fragile flower to go close it yourself?”

“I’m not fragile! I’m just tired! And cold. So very cold.”

Etho’s eyebrows raise even further at that. Without saying anything else, he crosses the room to the window and shuts it, before turning around and considering Bdubs.

Bdubs smirks at him, satisfied. “Thank you! Would you mind getting a towel for the water everywhere?”

“Okay, that’s it,” Etho marches towards Bdubs, who attempts to scramble backwards. He is thwarted by his own blanket pile, and instead finds himself tangled in them and entirely unable to wiggle away from Etho when he’s unceremoniously hauled out of the bed and into Etho’s arms.

“Hey! Let me go.. let me out.. hey!” 

Etho laughs at his weak attempts at getting away and instead of responding, he shifts Bdubs so he’s being held much less precariously. Once he’s got Bdubs settled, with one arm hooked under his knees and the other supporting his torso, he heads towards the door.

“C’mon, ‘Dubs. You make me close your window? You gotta do something with me.” 

Etho takes them both down the stairs, to the closet. He sets Bdubs down, rifles through the pile of shoes they’ve long given up on organizing, before turning back around with a triumphant grin and an absolutely evil look in his eye.

He’s holding two pairs of skates.

“No, no, no, no, I don’t think so, ask me tomorrow, ask me next year, actually, we all remember last time and it was awful-”

“Oh, you mean because you kept falling over?” Etho smirks. “Don’t worry, I can keep us both upright.” 

“...maybe.” Bdubs feels his cheeks flush. “It’s cold! It’s too cold for this!” 

“Nope, we’re going.”

Bdubs pouts at Etho. “I have a great idea. A better one, even! What if,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “we go back upstairs and we take a nap in your room!”

“Absolutely not.” Etho doesn’t wait for an answer, and instead pulls Bdubs over to the couch, where he laces both their boots when Bdubs refuses to do his own. 

Etho grins at the look Bdubs gives him, then drags him to the door before grabbing his jacket and throwing it around Bdubs. “You ready?”

“No,” Bdubs grumbles back, but he can’t help but crack a little at the way Etho’s absolutely thrilled at the snow. It’s disgustingly endearing.

They step outside, the snow blanketing everything around them and making the world outside seem untouched and out of time. Bdubs almost feels guilty for stepping off the porch and ruining the scene before them, but Etho bounds down the steps without hesitation and off for the lake in the distance, leaving Bdubs to scramble after him, tripping through thick drifts and finally just sliding down the hill until he’s come to a stop in front of Etho. 

Etho pulls him upright, dusting off snow from Bdubs’ shoulders, and then drops back down on the ground to attach his skates to his boots. Bdubs joins him, dread curling in his stomach while he surveys the lake before him (but at this point it’s worth it if only to see Etho’s eyes crinkling with the bright smiles Bdubs only ever sees when it’s just the two of them or when the snow falls).

“Ready?” Etho offers a hand to Bdubs, who takes it with the air of someone marching to their death. “Oh come on, I’m not gonna let you fall this time.”

“That’s what they all say,” Bdubs groans, attempting to shove down the pleasant warmth curling in his chest at Etho’s promise. 

“Oh? Who else said that?” Etho leads them onto the ice.

……

There’s a rather awkward pause.

“I see,” Etho’s eyes are crinkling again, and he moves backwards, pulling Bdubs with him much faster than Bdubs would like. Bdubs wobbles, and feels Etho’s grip on him loosen. 

“Etho… Etho!” Bdubs clutches Etho’s hands like a lifeline, and squeezes his eyes shut. “Please don’t let go!”

“I got you, you’re fine,” The teasing tone is gone, and Bdubs feels Etho move his hands down to Bdubs’ waist, pulling him close. “You’re not falling this time, remember?”

Bdubs cracks his eyes open and realizes they’ve slowed down, Etho holding him securely to his chest. He cranes his neck up to look at Etho, and Etho peers back down at him with amusement and fondness in his expression. They stay like that for a few moments, and when Etho starts to skate again, Bdubs lets him, although he continues to hang on to Etho like a lifeline. 

True to his word, Etho never lets Bdubs fall, not when he spins Bdubs and leaves him breathless on the ice, not when he pulls him along much faster than Bdubs thinks is necessary, chilly wind biting at his cheeks,  and not even when Etho crashes himself, after trying one jump too many and faceplanting into the ice with a resounding crash and ungraceful flapping of arms.

I love you, Bdubs thinks hours later, when they’ve gone inside and he’s made Etho his hot chocolate in the specific way Etho always insists it be made, and when they’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch with the fireplace crackling merely.

“....so will you clean up the water in my room now?”

Etho throws a cushion in his face as a reply.

Seems like a problem for later. 

[anarcoqueer1994]

Steddie brain rot

Some rollerrink had opened a few towns over and the kids really wanted to go. Despite them all being sophomores, none of them have their license, so Steve has to drive. He tries to get one of the other adults to come with, but everyone is busy.

Robin and Nancy have a date, andJohnathon and Argyle are busy(not that he was particularly close to either of them).

That leaves Eddie, who he expected to laugh in his face at even the thought of him going roller skating. But surprisingly, he agrees.

When they get there, the kids all go off and begin skating right away. Steve and Eddie sit by the sidelines, and watch.

Steve notices the way Will sadly watches Mike and El skate hand in hand. "Poor kid..."

"What?" Eddie asks, confused. Not following Steve's inner train of thought.

"Will. He, um has been through a lot. And take this with a grain of salt because obviously he has never said anything to me, but I think he's into Wheeler." Steve says thoughtfully.

Eddie smiles, he loves that despite the lack of credit the kids give him, and he gives himself he is incredibly observant of those he cares about. "Yea...I can see that. At hellfire, he is always looking to Mike for some kind of approval. It's cute."

Steve chuckles hearing Eddie "the freak" Munson use the word cute. He shifts to a solom smile. "Yea but it's hard, too. You know being gay in a town like Hawkins, never being sure who you can tell, never being sure who will reciprocate your feelings, being scared to mistakenly confess that shit to the wrong person. That's why I am so happy Robin lucked out with Nance..." his voice sounds sad.

Eddie picks on the hints of sadness. He sounds like he is talking from personal experience. "Steve...um have you ever felt that way? I mean you don't have to tell me, if you don't want to...I just...I don't know. I wouldn't hate you or anything."

For a moment, the breath catches in Steve’s throat, Eddie had read right through him. But he takes Eddie’s words at face value, Eddie won't hate him. In a low voice he whispers "Yea, A few times. Like I'm definitely into girls, but there have been a few guys. One I even kissed."

Eddie’s face goes pink at the thought of Steve kissing a guy, a tinge of irrational jealousy fills his mind. He tries to keep his voice calm. "Out of curiosity, can I ask who?"

Steve's face flushes at the question, but nods anyhow. "I mean I used to think Tommy H. was attractive, but he was an asshole, so I got over that. There were a few random guys on the swim team with me."

"And the kiss?" Eddie pushes

"It was Billy Hargrove...we kind of had a thing. I think Max knows but no one else does. He...died before we really had a chance to figure out what we were, and what we wanted." He says sadly.

"I'm sorry, man." Eddie replies trying to cover up the shock of Steve and Billy. "So, has their been anyone since?" He feels badly for pushing but his own self-deprecating curiosity has gotten the best of him.

"Yea..." Steve admits, but instead of saying who he asks "Have you...um ever felt that way about a guy?"

Eddie can't help but shoot his a little smile. "Only once...like I've never dated anyone, haven't really cared to. But there was a guy recently, Stevie."

The silly nickname slipped out but he hopes Steve is getting what he is trying to telepathically imply. Steve blushes "Do I, um know him?" Steve leans in slightly, so he is closer in Eddie's space.

"Funny you should ask..." Eddie starts but before he can finish, Dustin interrupts them. "Why are you guys just sitting here?? Come on, and skate."

Eddie groans to himself as Steve pulls aways. "Okay, whatever Henderson. I didn't want to embarrass you guys because I am so talented." Steve jokes as he stands up. He looks at Eddie as Dustin skates off. "I'll grab us some skates."

Eddie watches him walk off, silently cursing Dustin. Worst possible timing and now he was going to embarrass himself in front of the man he was trying to impress.

Steve returns with a pair of skates for both of them. Steve puts his on but notices the hesitant way Eddie is putting on his own. "What's wrong?"

He wants to say 'I'm mad because I was trying so hard to tell you I like you.' But instead focuses on the more immediate problem. "I can't skate."

"Oh?" Steve says, sounding a little disappointed before perking back up. "That's okay, I got you, Eds."

Eddie blushes at the soft way Steve says his name. He nods, the air betweenthem has definitely changed. "Thanks...big boy." He adds to break the nervous tension, flashing a smile.

And Steve didn't lie. He did have Eddie, holding onto the other man so he didn't fall as muck. Eddie holding onto him for dear life as he clumsily made his wayaround the rink. And to his surprise, Eddie was enjoying himself. Now whether that enjoyment was from skating or the way Steve Harrington was gently guiding him, wrapping his arms around his waist to support him, he did not know.

They stayed for hours before finally bringing the kids home and dropping them off. When Steve pulled up to Eddie’s trailer after ushering Max to hers, he clears his throat.

"Hey, Eddie?" He sounds nervous, as he looks at the passenger side seat.

Eddie turns his head to meet his eyes.

"Yea?" He says softly.

"I...um, really had fun today. So...um thank you." He wants to say more but has lost the momentum from earlier.

Eddie's heart is beating fast. "Anytime, Harrington. I liked spending time with you....and the kids." He quickly adds.

Steve lets out a nervous laugh. "Yea, me too. I also like hanging out with you...and the kids of course. But can I ask you something?"

"Sure..." Eddie tries to sound confident.

"Earlier, you were going to tell me who you liked, right? Can you tell me now?" Steve feels silly asking but hopes it's who he thinks it is. He leans closer to Eddie over the center console, resting his hand on the metal head's thigh, praying he is not going too far.

At this point Eddie feels like he is going to combust into flames any moment. So he takes a chance. "How about I show you?" With that, he nervously scoops Steve's chin up, pressing a gentle kiss against the other man’s lips. He pulls away slightly to gage Steve's reaction.

But before he can get too far, he feels Steve move his hand to the back of Eddie’s head, twisting his fingers into Eddie’s hair, pulling him back in for a long, needy kiss.

After they have to pull away for air, both men of flushing, lips pink and kiss swollen. "I think that answers my question." Steve laughs.

[borrelia]

Fleebay getting booboo on his knee this ask better not be censored

I got your previous ask so idk what got censored the first time?? what did you say. beepo getting horribly wounded die die die??? anway. thank you :) i wrote beepo hurt his knee a little bit ft. the oh sees

Fleet was beginning to suspect that wherever Sonic’s athleticism came from, it wasn’t just the shape of his body. 

Sonic could sprint from coast to coast as easy as breathing air.  He could balance on the head of a pin without wavering once.  He could stunt with a snowboard after five seconds downhill following another five of standing on the board for the first time. 

Fleet could fly—sometimes—and shoot lasers out of his eyes.  And.  That was about it.  Whatever quirk of skill and chaos energy made Sonic so agile and strong was not something in Fleet’s half of the bargain.

          Fleet was sure he could remember Sonic on a skateboard, rolling down the street so easy and relaxed, kicking the board up to jump off flowerboxes and grind over the backs of benches.  It had felt so easy, so natural!

          Wobbling now on top of a borrowed board, gripping the arm of its owner for support, Fleet felt none of that natural ease.

          “Are you sure you’ve done this before?” Bebe asked next to him.  Somehow she was able to keep him steady while herself wearing rollerskates.  And idly kicking one foot back and forth. 

          “Yes, I’m sure,” Fleet said, his eyes glued to a blackened smudge of old gum on the ground.  “I’m just a little rusty… I think.”

          Bebe scoffed and delicately pried his fingers from her arm.  His eyes snapped up to her expression of disbelief, still holding him steady with just her hand.  Fleet didn’t know a lot of birds, so seeing the way her quail beak could twist into a smirk was still a novelty.

          “You think?” She glanced down at the board that wobbled forward and back under Fleet’s unsteady stance.  “You know, you don’t have to lie, you can just say you’ve never skate before and you don’t know how to stay on a board and you need help learning and that’s fine.”

          Fleet got the sense that his scowl was only making this girl cockier.  True, he had only tried skating as himself about—roughly, generously—two times now, but he couldn’t stand the thought of starting at the bottom.  Maybe if the lessons put on by the skate shop weren’t populated by ten year olds, he’d feel a little more comfortable with the help.  Maybe if the other people here his age were in the class instead of casually speeding down the half-pipe and spinning their boards underneath them like it was nothing, he might be more eager to take his time.

          I bet Sonic would take the class. And be able to make friends.

          Well Fleet didn’t need to do things Sonic’s way.  He was sure he could tap into that once-shared athleticism, somehow, and be just as good—better than Sonic.  And make better friends who liked him more, even. 

          Which was why he’d decided to put himself out there and ask the bird girl and the capybara guy if he could borrow a board and skate with them.  Capybara guy was currently moving in easy circles, barely bothering to kick any momentum into the board, just gliding around the flatter parts of the park.  And bird girl was giving him a teasing look that lit a fire in his chest.

          “I’m not lying,” he said, pulling his hand from her grip.  He stayed perfectly still on the board.  Now moving was the hard part… “I’ve done it before, it’s just been a while.” 

          Bebe shrugged and pointed a thumb behind her shoulder.  “Okay.  Well while you learn how to board for the first time, I’m going to have some actual fun and show you how it’s done.” She winked as she slid backwards across the concrete.  With a kick of her heel, she turned and dropped into a low stance, cutting across the flattop to the other side of the small park. 

          Fleet glared after her and clenched his fist by his side.  He could do this. He had to be able to do something right and this was it.  There was a downward rail not too far from him.  This was what he could do.  He pushed forward with a foot and wobbled over the rolling board until it stopped again.  Okay.  He looked across the park at Bebe, sweeping up and around the bowl effortlessly, her skates roaring over the pavement.  He could do this.  He just had to tap into that athleticism…

          Fleet took a deep breath and tugged on that spark of chaos energy that always sat flickering in his chest.  He wouldn’t overdo it, just a little…

          Electricity skittered through his limbs, energizing his muscles and straightening his balance.  There it was. 

He focused on the rail ahead of him.  Breathe, you’re in control.  He opened and clenched his fists to calm their shaking.  This might have been a bad idea. Don’t think about that.  Just… go!

He pushed forward, a kick of power to his heel.  The board rumbled beneath him as it shot straight ahead.  He angled to the rail—yes, yes!—crouched, and sprung up with the board—. 

The—the board did not come with him.

The metal rail vibrated with a horrible clang against his knee as he crumpled over the top and he slammed into the ground.  Bits of rock stabbed into his palms and scraped over his arms, his vision dark and head heavy.  Dazed, he rolled over onto his back.  His leg hurt.  His hands and wrists hurt.  He could feel the massive bruise blooming across his right shoulder, and his brain felt like scrambled egg.  The hum of energy had dissipated, leaving only the throbbing pain of a screw-up.

Bebe’s board rolled away uselessly as the sound of rushing wheels grew louder behind him.

“Are you stupid?!” Bebe yelled at the same time her friend asked “Aw hell man, are you alright?”

Fleet turned his head back to look at them—Bebe stopped next to him and glaring down at him, her friend holding his board up a few feet away, regarding him cautiously.  He waved them away.

          “I… It looked worse than it felt.”  Fleet shifted and propped himself up on his elbows.  Everything hurt but…well, he couldn’t say he was used to it.  Normally, blasting out chaos energy didn’t leave him feeling all that sore.

          Hmmm, maybe…

          Bebe huffed and rolled over to her escaping skateboard.  She grumbled something that sounded snarky, but the sounds of her wheels and her friend shuffling toward Fleet covered up the details.

          “Hey,” the capybara said, holding out a hand, “you good?”

          Fleet regarded his gloved hand, not moving.  “Yes, sorry.  Just give me a second, please.” He didn’t need longer than that.  He grabbed that pilot light in his chest once more and teased out another thread of jittering, electric energy that spilled through his body from his ears to his fingertips with a fiery heat.  It wasn’t pleasant, but…

          “You sure?” he asked, pulling his hand back.

Fleet stretched a hand out in front of him.  The energy made him feel sick to his stomach and hyper-aware of the other teens—watching him patiently or grumbling and putting away her board—but the pain began to fade.  He felt fresh, new.

          Satisfied, he hopped to his feet and casually stretched.  “Yep!” He twisted side to side.  “Really, it looked worse than it was.”

          When he stopped fidgeting, the other teen gave him a wide smile.  “Hey, I like your attitude,” he said and clapped a heavy hand to Fleet’s shoulder.  “Don’t let a couple falls get you down.”  He pulled his hand back and offered a shake.  “I’m Dog.”

          Fleet tentatively took his hand.  “Dog?”

          “Yeah.”

          “Oh, okay.  I’m a hedgehog.  My name’s Fleet.”  He smiled.

          “Cool.  No offense Fleet, but you suck at skating.  Do you want me to show you how not to fall down?”

          The next morning, Fleet discovered the hard way that his chaos energy could only do so much to delay the pain of a dozen falls on hard concrete.

[togoldlilya]

Let me teach you, but I'm learning too

sayaka has never ice skated before but how hard could it really be? toge on the other hand was a lot less confident about the whole thing.

"come on nunu!!" sayaka beckons the boy to follow her has she steps onto the ice, easily gliding over it as if it was just the pavement. taking a shaky breath he slowly steps onto the slippery surface, arms instinctively flying out to the sides to steady himself. successfully getting both skates onto the ice, he immediately slips and scrambles to gain his balance, arms flailing wildly. eyes wide he manages to save himself, looking up to see sayaka cackling loudly at his misfortune. shooting her a glare he attempts to take a step forward only to loose his balance and fall to the ice with a thump. giggling profusely sayaka slides forward to help him up, "here nunu let me help you" getting him back to his feet he clamps his hands down on her forearms allowing her to drag him along as she slowly skates backwards.

"wow i didn't expect this to be so easy" she comments offhandedly making toge huff in jealously. forcing him to let go of one of her arms, she grabs his hand instead, their gloved fingers intertwining easily, now able to skate side by side. he focuses intently on his feet scared that if he looks away he'll fall again.

"like this nunu, push off back to the side so that you're swaying a little bit. dont be so stiff either it's making it harder for you" sayaka advises trying to sound gentle. he listens closely and tries to follow what she said, finding that it actually did help.

"ume! tsuna tsuna!" he cries out, excited at his own progress "tsuna mayo!!" she cracks a wide smile at his enthusiasm, cheering him on happily. but after about an hour toge is tapped out, and she leads him to the edge so he can sit down.

"i'm having a lot of fun nunu, i'm gonna skate for a bit longer okay?" she states before gliding back onto the ice. he settles down to watch her, entranced by her gracefulness. he thinks, not for the first time that night, that this can not be her first time on the ice, shes just too good. she smoothly and elegantly goes around the track, even trying out some spins, looking like she belongs out there, creating art on the ice. sooner than he'd like she joins him on the bench, hair windswept, cheeks pink from the cold, and slightly out of breath.

"ikura shouyu ume, tsuna mayo furikake ikura. ikura shouyu" you're so beautiful ume, lets do this together again please. you're so beautiful he motions towards the rink as he says this, his words making her blush a deep red.

"of course we can do this again! i've had a lot of fun skating with you! i'd say you're pretty good now hehe" she flashes him a bright smile that renders him speechless for a moment, struck by her beauty in that moment.

"ume..." he mumbles catching her attention.

"huh? what is it?" she focues her attention on him fully, brows furrowed cutely in confusion. tugging down his scarf he pulls her into a kiss, loving how she instantly melts against him, hand coming up to grasp at his jacket. pressing closer to her, he quickly gets addicted to her taste, unwilling to let go of her just yet. slipping a hand around her neck, he holds her to him, smirking at the shiver that runs though her body. her once cold lips are now warm and swollen and they taste like the hot chocolate they shared eariler. pulling away she unconsciously trails after him, lips pursed cutely. opening her eyes she sees his satisfied smile and can't help but think how adorable he looks right now. she's already planning their next trip here, with a self indulgent smile.

[disorganizedkitten]

The Marinette Lucky Charm

Miraculous Ladybug | 2018 | 1,467 | Ao3

Trapped by an Akuma before she can transform, Marinette leads a team to victory, without her magic. Inspired by Chapter 22 of Miraculous flaming trash heap, by Jackal-In-A-Box.

“Alya! Get back here!” Marinette hissed, watching from behind an ice statue as her best friend inched painfully closer to where Chat Noir and the Akuma of the hour were trading blows.

Normally, Marinette would have said ‘'this is enough cover, Transform me!’ and rushed out to help. Today though, Mylene, Alix, Rose, and Juleka were all right behind her. There was no way they'd miss her transforming now.

“I don't think she'll listen. These will be pretty cool shots though.”

“This is Alya, she's as in love with the Ladyblog as she is with Nino.”

“Oh that's so romantic! Wait, shouldn't she be more in love with Nino?”

“How is she not scared? She's running towards danger!”

Another blast of wayward ice hit the statue they were behind, shattering it. The girls scattered, and Marinette took the chance to hide away.

“Tikki-”

“Marinette wait!” the Kwami flew up to eye level, shaking her head. There was an ice shard sticking out of her left paw.

Marinette cupped her hands and pulled her out of the air. “Tikki are you okay?!”

Tikki frowned at her paw, and the shard fell through it. “I should be. But I'll only have enough power for you to transform and call on a Lucky Charm. Then you need to detransform so I can recharge.”

“But, don't I have to be Ladybug to actually use it?”

“No. Only to purify the Butterfly. Chat can contain it once you break the object. You are the mastermind behind the Lucky Charms working out. Just use it!” Tikki flew up and bopped Marinette's nose.

Marinette wasn't convinced, but another statue shattering nearby told her she needed to at least try.

“Tikki, Spots on!

“Lucky Charm!” Something dropped into Ladybug’s hand, but she didn't stop to look before releasing Tikki. “Spots off.”

Marinette, still super apprehensive about doing this without her suit, looked down. “A scrunchie. A scrunchie! Tikki what the heck am I supposed to do with a scrunchie? I mean, it'll be great for tying up my hair if I lose my ribbons, but what? Maybe if I had superstrength I could shoot it at the Akuma as a distraction, but I don't and-”

“Sorry Marinette, I don't choose the charms, I just make them. You have to figure out how to use them.”

“ We. Are. Going. To. Die! Hawkmoth is going to win and we are all going to die because I got a charm I can't use and I can't figure it out without magic and-”

“Stop panicking Marinette! You have always figured out your charms, even the weirder ones. I make the suit and the object, but it's you who figures out how to use them. I'm going to put aside that part of that might have been a jab at my abilities, because I stand by you!

“In spirit. I have to recharge so we can capture the Akuma.”

“But Tikki!”

“You were Chosen Marinette! I believe in you! You're my bug! Good luck!” and with that, Tikki ducked into the purse and latched it with a snap.

“But- and- what about- How am I supposed to do this?!” another handful of ice shards splayed past her, leading her eyes to where the girls’ backpacks had ended up.

“Actually, you may have been right Tikki. I think I got it!”

Marinette slid the scrunchie onto her wrist, then proceeded to duck over to the pile of bags, grab a plank of wood and ice skates from Alix’s, a wheel from Alya’s, and her backup purse chain, then start zigzagging towards the Akuma herself.

“Marinette what are you doing?!” Alix yanked her arm, pulling her to where the other four girls were.

“Something stupid and dangerous. I might need this nail too. What is this guy destroying anyway?” She kicked up the half-defrosted building material and caught it. “Oh Alya, you're here. Good. Mind helping me with a tricky plan?”

Five pairs of eyes stared at Marinette as though she'd gone crazy. This was the first time they'd actually seen Marinette in action during an Akuma attack, and the suspiciously red and black scrunchie on her wrist, plus the four -five now- oddities in her hands painted a rather revealing picture.

Alya was the first to reply, putting aside the mess of spots and strings in her head. “Always Girl. What're we doing?”

“Hey, I'm in too if I'm needed,” Alix nudged both girls encouragingly.

“Me too!”

“I'll help.”

“I can try?”

Marinette smiled. “Well first, I need to get close enough to get Chat Noir’s Baton and tail. Then, if we distract the Akuma and use those-” the girls listened raptly, and then Alya, Marinette, and Alix started to execute the plan.

“Hey freezer face! Why don't you stop picking on the cat and try to catch someone at your own skill level?”

“Oh and that would be you? Please. ”

“Try me!”

“I'll be back for you, Alley cat.” The Akuma froze Chat to the ground by his tail, and took off after Alix.

“Hey Chat Noir! I need your Baton! And tail!”

Chat turned, expecting to see a very-late-to-the-party Ladybug. Instead he got Marinette, heading his way like she lived on ice.

“Why?”

“I have an idea!” Marinette slipped to a stop beside him, misjudging her weight and slipping into a somersault. Chat was not reassured by the sight.

“I'm going to trust you here, because I've worked with you before and you're actually pretty good. But don't get used to playing superhero without a Miraculous. It's not safe!” Chat Noir detached his tail, and turned to yank it out of the ice bank.

Marinette scoffed as she grabbed the tail, twisting it out in one fluid motion. “Trust me, I won't. Where's the Baton?”

As an answer, Alya gave a yell of “Heads up!” as it rolled across the ice and tapped Marinette's knee.

“Perfect.” Marinette grabbed Chat’s forearm and pulled herself up, only letting go once she had a sustainable balance level. She twisted her foot, somehow staying on her feet, and started towards where Alya was positioning their setup.

Marinette fumbled her stop again, tripping over the wood plank and catching Alya’s wrist with the belt-tail. Chat Noir grabbed the middle of it, stopping them both from hitting the floor.

“Thanks Chat.” Marinette untangled Alya, and started looping the the belt around the wheel and Baton.

“Incoming!” Alix’s cry was the only warning they got before the pink and green blur skated past them, the Akuma a little ways behind.

“I gotta say girls, I'm… less impressed than I thought. How is this supposed to help?” Marinette shot him a look, then pulled both Chat and Alya out of the way of an ice shot that the Akuma fired. “A little more impressed, but still unarmed for when she loses interest in Alix.”

“Please, you can fight without your Baton. Not that you'll need to. Alix! Phase three!”

“Girl, please don't let her actually hit me.” Alya pulled herself onto the plank, holding the wheel for balance. She was purposefully ignoring the memories of how often Marinette’s plans backfired, instead hoping the magical items included in this one would balance that out.

“I won't.” Marinette promised, moving away with the baton in hand. Chat Noir looked between the girls, ultimately deciding to follow Marinette. That way he was closer to his weapon when this fell apart.

“Marinette what are you-”

“Duck!” Marinette toppled Chat, and swung the Baton like a baseball bat, spinning thrice as she did so. Chat watched quietly from the ground while the girls moved forward with their plan. Alya shrieked something about not dying when the contraption started moving, Alix made a scarily sharp turn and started back towards them, and Marinette kicked herself into another spin. The Baton spun with her, and since it was attached to the wheel via his tail, the momentum pulled the wheel into a much wider arc, and the plank that was attached to the wheel (when and how had they done that?) did the same.

Alix skated straight into the blur of brown that was the spinning contraption, somehow sliding under it and continuing across the ice to where Rose caught her and helped her out of sight. The Akuma wasn't as prepared.

“What in the-”

The plank caught her, and when it stopped spinning, a wobbly Alya ripped her necklace off and stumbled back to where Marinette and Chat Noir were.

“Holy crap,” Chat breathed.

“I live,” Alya replied shakily. “Here's the object. I hope.”

“Nailed it!” Marinette jumped happily, missed her landing, and crashed down on top of a half-up Chat and Alya.

“What in the plagues was that Mari?”

“Marinette you could've died!”

“That was awesome.”

“Since when are you that strong?”

[ddejavvu]

its stupid but gotta bring my 2 hyperfixations together before multiverse monday so

hockey player Remus x reader where she is wearing his jersey and all and he is all bloody and just got in a fight and just goes up to kiss her 😫😫😫😳😳😳 (maybe NHL level) (maybe he is captain)

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :D

SHUT UP RN I'M A HUGE HOCKEY FAN SKGNSJGN this is 🛐 (also i may or may not have villainized one of my least favorite players in this bc this is my story. i can.)

--

As exciting as the premise of front row seats were at first, you'd quickly learned to fear them. No matter how many times someone slammed into the glass only inches from you, you'd still flinch every time. This time, unfortunately, it had been your husband's face smashed oh-so-delicately up against the boards before you, shoulder cracking loud enough for you to hear through the barriers.

Your stomach knotted itself tightly, eyes squeezed partially shut from the scare of the impact. You watched Remus haul himself back up onto his skates, fast enough to dodge a punch that flew at his head from number 88 on the opposing team.

You knew the drill. Their gloves were padded enough not to draw blood, but there was still force behind their punches, so there’d be bruising. You watched number 88′s left glove as he threw it onto the ice behind him, going in for the next punch with his bare hand. Remus’s lips were smashed against his teeth, slicing the bottom one open if the trickle of blood that ran down his chin was any evidence.

Remus finally got his footings, grabbing 88 by the helmet and jerking his head to the side. The man lost his balance for a moment, fist flying once more into Remus’s face and foot shooting out to catch him before he could fall. Remus took his opportunity, shoving the man aside so that he landed flat on his ass on the ice. You heard the crowd roar around you, a mix of jeering and cheering as the referees stood monitoring.

You thought Remus was in the clear for a moment, more than ready to go back to spectating the game, but 88 clearly wasn’t ready to let go of his animosity, shooting his bare hand out and yanking Remus’s ankle towards him. Remus’s legs were pulled out from under him, skate slashing a deep cut into 88′s cheek. Your stomach suddenly wasn’t knotted anymore, instead it churned as you watched the blood pour from the man’s face and stain the ice. 

The referees finally decided that enough was enough, one grabbing Remus from behind and helping him back on his feet, the other holding a towel to the gash on the other player’s face. Remus was shuffled off to the bench, and he nudged his teammates aside to plop down beside you. 

You reached over the barrier on your left, brushing your thumb over Remus’s bottom lip and grimacing when it came back bloodstained. He smiled proudly at you, eyes raking over your jersey-clad form.

“That’s m’girl,” Remus rasped, leaning in to press his blood-stained lips against your own. You almost recoiled, the image of his deep red split lips not an appealing one, but you felt him wrap an arm around you from over the wall between you, tugging you impossibly closer to him as the crowd screamed.

 When Remus finally pulled away you saw him cast a scathing glance at number 88 on his own bench, arm resting securely on your shoulders. You inwardly scoffed at his possessiveness, but butterflies still managed to turn your tummy upside down, leaving you blushing as you leaned into Remus’s touch.