#also i got a little sunburned on my cheeks :(

[gaskarth]

went to the beach today and it was really fun until a guy flashed me in the bathroom right as we were leaving :(

[sstargirln]

❞ ᝰ .ᐟ cowboy!art donaldson x reader

based on this request :

Anonymous asked:

art donaldson cowboy au where he works as a ranch hand for your dad.... and then he fucks u in ur daddy's grand farm mansion when he isn't home. hello im hard! ~ 🌸

TW : use of y/n ( 1 ) , smut MDNI - oral ( f receiving ) , swearing , not proofread

word count : 2264 (THIS IS SO LONG WHAT THE FUCK)

¡! ❞ a/n : uh im bricked anon! also basically dodge mason and panic reference ! and this is kinda shit im sowwy . REPOST BC LAST TIME IT FLOPPED AND IDK WHY .

choose ur own adventure type c.ai bot based on this here 

there was something about your pretty little accent that got art's damn mind spinning. clear, sort of clipped and lilting, the typa accent one could only get from living in the big old city of new york. you were his boss's daughter, which made it all the more sinful when he imagined that accent in... other (less proper) situations he shouldn't've been. unlike the other ranch-hands, he kept a polite distance. he didn't leer or ogle at you as you walked by — his momma taught him better than that — but he sure as hell wanted to as you bent down to pick up something from the front seat of your convertible. tiny little white skirt rising higher and higher and higher and higher and art was hooked. oh how he would love to ruin you, daddy's dear little girl visiting carp for the summer. oh how he would love to grab you by those meaty thighs, defile you 'till you were crying his name. oh how he would love.

he trudges through the mud up to the ranch house, all done for the day and ready to wash up in the worker's quarters in the back. his legs feel like lead after hours of wrangling the cattle and fixing fences in the blistering sun. the thin flannel he wore today clung to his skin, soaked through with sweat. before he even gets to look in mirror, he knows his face is all ruddy-like and burnt, even though his hat supposed to be protecting the damn sunburn that made his cheeks string.

he splashed cold water on his face. he grabbed an old rag to wipe his face, just about ready to head to the showers, when he heard it—that damn voice, right behind him.

he turned, and there you were. standing in the doorway, looking a little out of place in your crisp, white summer dress. your eyes scanned the tiny room like you weren’t sure if you should be there or not, and art figured you probably didn’t have much reason to be back here.

you gave a sheepish smile. "hi… i, uh, think i got a little lost. do you know where the main house is?"

he’d dreamed 'bout this moment before, though maybe not quite like this. you, standing there all pretty, looking gorgeous in your spotless attire, while he was still dripping in sweat and grime. the polite distance he’d vowed to keep suddenly felt a lot tougher to maintain now that you were looking at him, lips slightly parted as you waited for an answer.

he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, trying to focus on your face. "main house is back that way," he drawled, pointing out the direction you missed. his voice came out rougher than he meant it to. "reckon you took a wrong turn."

you smiled wider, stepping a bit closer. damn near makes him swallow his own tongue. "thanks," you reply, your tone light, conversational. "still trying to figure out my way around."

art nodded, eyes flicking up to meet yours, though his heart was beating faster than it should’ve been. he shifted on his feet, gaze shifting from your eyes down to your lips down to your chest down to your thighs down to — back to your eyes.

"i can walk you back if you want," he offered, tipping his hat back slightly, trying to stay cool about it, but hell, you already had him wrapped around your finger and didn’t even know it.

you gave him a slow nod, tongue flitting out to lick at your lips. "i'd appreciate that, thank you."

as the two of you made your way back to the main house, art tried his best not to tip over sideways at the sheer thought of you being this close to him. he feels like a pathetic little dog, all worked up over you just walking in line with him, brushing your arm against his every once in awhile. he's so focused on keeping his cheeks from flushing that he doesn't hear you the first time.

"hello?"

art blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "huh? oh, sorry, darlin' —didn’t catch that."

you tilted your head slightly, a playful smile on your lips as you repeated your question. "what's your name? i'm y/n."

"art," he cursed himself for his curt response, but you didn't seem to notice, bright smile still holding as you nodded.

"nice to meet you, art." your gaze held his with a sort of lingering intensity that unfortunately made art's pants tighten even further than before. "so, what do else do you do here in carp when you're not showing lost city people around?"

art shrugs, hands stuffed in his pockets. "dunno. i work, i guess."

you roll your eyes slightly and nudge at him with your elbow. "okay. what about for fun?"

art shifted awkwardly, feeling your elbow nudge him gently, sending a spark down his spine. he cleared his throat, "fun?" he repeated, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. "ain’t much time for that out here, if I’m bein’ honest. mostly work, and maybe a beer with the boys now and then."

you let out a soft laugh, the sound teasing him in all the right ways. "that’s all? no girls? no beautiful maiden waiting around for you to finish all this hard work?"

art swallowed hard. he glanced down at his boots for a second, trying to collect himself, then back at you. "no, ma’am. no one special like that," he muttered. "guess I ain’t much for courtin’ these days."

your lips curved into a lazy smirk. "hmm. that’s a shame. a guy like you? figured the girls would be lined up." your eyes glint with a darkness that art knew all too well. it was the same hungry look he felt in his own gaze, pupils dilated and eyes half-lidded with desire.

art rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to flush under the heat of your stare. he bit at the inside of his cheek, his self-restraint fraying as he fought the urge to just jump at you right then and there.

as you neared the main house, art's mind shifted to your father. the last thing he wanted was for the boss to catch wind of any unprofessional behavior. with a deep breath, art managed a strained smile, trying to redirect the rising heat in his chest. "well, here we are. better get you inside before your dad starts wonderin' where you’ve been."

you glanced at him with a smirk, seemingly unfazed as you adjusted your skirt. "funny thing, art," you said, your voice low and sultry, "i think daddy's still out of town. he won't be back 'till tomorrow." you took a step closer, hands reaching out to dust off art's collar.

he swallows hard at the feeling of your finger brushing against his neck. "we got the place to ourselves then, huh?" art drawls, voice rough and husky with barely contained desire.

"looks like it." your arms wrapped around his neck, finger curling around a stray blond locked as you watched art's face contort. deciding, deciding, decided. his hands found your hips, and with a light tap to your thigh, you jumped into his arms, kissing him hard.

your lips were warm and soft, and they parted slightly as art slipped his tongue inside, his one hand scrabbling for the front door handle. it clicked open and he stumbled inside, heading straight for the living room. your fingertips brush softly against his back as he sits down on a couch, letting you straddle him at the hips. he's still sweaty, but you seem to like it, burrowing your head in his neck as he nips at yours, breathing in the sharp, musky smell of him.

the both of you pant heavily as you scrambled to take of his shirt, and then him your dress. art presses slobbery kisses down your chest and torso, salivating at the sight of your little blue panties, pressed down against his crotch. little sighs and moans left your lips as he trailed his fingers along with his mouth, to the very top of your underwear, kissing along the seam. before you can object, he's shifted you over and laid down. "hop on, darlin'," he mumbles, referring to his mouth as you pull off your panties. hesitantly, you crawl up his chest. apparently not quick enough for art, he hooks an arm around your waist and places you on his face himself, moaning at the pure scent of you.

he starts by kissing the inside of your right thigh, then suckling the inside of your left. he revels in your scent for a few more seconds before burying his face inside you, lapping you up with long, thick licks against your folds. you squeal when you first feel his (clearly) expert tongue against you, flexing and swirling as he find your sweet spots immediately. it hasn't even been 5 seconds when he stops with a pop! - peeking out from under your thighs with a wild expression on his face. his hat is tipped over under him, the rim sticking out from behind his unruly blond locks. "you're hoverin'. " he was right, you were, too scared to put your full weight on this poor man you had met not half an hour ago. "sit on my face, baby, please," he practically whimpers.

and how could you say no? eyes wide, face slick with your juices, looking so goddamn angelic — you couldn't. and even though you were scared to crush him, craving the feeling of his tongue inside you again, you sit — nice and proper this time.

he starts up again with a kind of feverish intensity you could only expect from a starved man. you moan and whimper on his face, scratching against his scalp as you looked for something to grip onto. art groans in pleasure against your folds when you tug at his hair, his grip that of iron as he holds you down by the hips hard enough to bruise. his other hand is groping at your tits, pinching and swirling at the nipples as he watches you shake on his tongue.

his own dick is being completely ignored, even though it's brick-hard and leaking enough pre-cum you can see it through his pants. the only pleasure he needs is your sweet little whines and needy moans as he laps up your juices like your pussy is the holy grail. before you even know it, he's driven you through orgasm after orgasm, happily sucking away at your cunt as you squirm and scream on top of him. "ohmygod, art. oh my fucking god!" your yells are loud enough that your little boyfriends from new york could probably hear you.

and after he's been there for so long your head's rolling, and your clit is swollen and overstimulated, he's finally done, pulling back to rest his face on your thighs. his cheeks leave your own slick against your legs, nose shiny at the tip but with a big old stupid grin on his face. you're panting, pussy throbbing and puffy as you rake your fingers though his hair, looking down at him with your mouth agape. "holy shit, art."

his grin grows even wider as he watches you, fingers rubbing lazy circles on your hips as you struggle to compose yourself. "am i good?" he asks, already certain of the answer, but eager to boost his ego even more.

you nod, eyes dazed and glossy as you ran your hands over his cheeks. "so good, art. holy fucking hell." you could already hear him boasting to all the other ranch hands in his stupidly attractive little southern accent — i made that city girl cum 5 times on my tongue!

he nods slowly in response, pretty eyes looking up at you all proud. "that's what i like to hear, darlin'."

the next thing he heard made his heart sink all the way from where it was, up in the clouds all dazed, to his stomach. the front door click open, and the booming voice of your father, "baby, i'm home!"

you'd heard it before him, and you jumped off of his chest and pulled your dress back on before poor art even had time to register what was happening. you sat straight up next to him, looking perfect — albeit a little red, as your terrifyingly massive father stomped into the room. his expression changed from exhaustion to pure anger as he took in art, sprawled half-way up on the couch, shirt off and hair a mess. "what the hell do you think you're doing?" he roared from across the room.

"get out of my damn house!" your father bellowed. art scrambled off of the couch, grabbing his hat from under his head. clumsy and hurried as he fumbled with his shirt. you were too stunned to move, thighs still throbbing, as he sprinted out of the back door before your father could make it to him. the barrel of a man slammed the door behind him, making you wince.

as art scurried down the backyard and past the worker's quarters, shirt still off and hat placed haphazardly on his head, the first thoughts in his head was — 'i am so fucking sacked.' the next ones placed a lazy smile on his face. 'goddamn, that was worth it.'

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

[aangelinakii]

NATURALLY.

— at times like this, it comes so naturally.

summary : jason's love language is words of affirmation, which you struggle with, so it means a whole lot more when you use them.

note : this was also requested a while ago, the original request is in a screenshot right at the bottom of the post :) thank you for requesting and sorry it took so long to complete !!

it was okay that jason struggled with physical affection, and it was okay that you struggled with words of affirmation.

sure, on paper it may not be exactly comptable, but you made it work. you liked each other, so you made that extra effort. and you worked well together, no matter the missed hugs or unspoken words.

the sun was out, shining down on gotham despite being halfway into september (a travesty!) but jason had gone out of his way to pick you up and take you out.

he'd recently cleaned the inside of his car, the scent of his amber cologne lingering on the seats, despite the outside still a little shabby. for the son of a billionaire, he sure lived up to his roots.

during summer months, you enjoyed sharing an ice cream in the park, or at a parlour, trying all the flavours and deciding which were best or worst. today, jason pulled up outside the ice cream shop you'd both deemed the best.

your boyfriend must have been feeling generous today, for he paid for a triple-scoop, all for yourself, and settled with a single tub of cookies and cream. pinky linked with yours, he held the door open as you led, and followed as your feet passed his parked car.

"thank you, hun," you hummed mid-lick, and jason pressed a kiss to the side of your head. a touch of affirmation, a dash of physical affection. see? you two work quite well, despite your differences.

cheeks warm but stomach cold, jason had opted for offering his bicep to you, so he could manoeuvre his tiny plastic spoon and delicious cookies and cream.

"so, how's your day been?" he asked after a few moments of comfortable silence, glancing over at you as he dipped the spoon beyond his lips.

swallowing down the top flavour on your cone, you gave a nod, lips curling into a smile. "yeah, i got a day off, so i've been relaxing. doing nothing, really, until you called."

his pale eyes met yours, cookies and cream dotted along the corner of his mouth as it mimicked your own movements.

"which i'm glad you did, by the way," you added, redirecting your path briefly to nudge into him slightly. "it's such a beautiful day, i'm glad you managed to get me out."

trying to keep the bashful blush from his cheeks (which he'd blame on sunburn somehow, if you asked), the soft hum of a laugh came from his throat. "that's my job." and he flexed the muscle in his arm slightly in an effort to squeeze against your hand lovingly.

smiling under the sun, you turned back to the path ahead, concrete warm, leaves on trees lush.

"you know how much i appreciate you, right?" you piped up, glancing back over at the man beside you, tongue flicking out from behind your lips to lick away some stray ice cream.

at first, jason couldn't respond, the ice cream in his belly melting in an oozing pool of adoration and happiness; the heat of the sun had nothing on him. his eyes stayed on the concrete below his feet, staring at the imperfect cracks along the sidewalk; broken, yet holding together, still.

much like the bones in his body, the bruises against his skin, healing after spending a night round yours, or after cooking you a warm dinner — or after walking beneath the sun, with an ice cream each, basking in the heat and presence of one another.

"i love you."

the words came from his lips in a chuckle, from behind lips tugged up to reveal teeth. despite the pot of half-eaten ice cream in his hand, it quickly became ignored, as the arm he had offered to you moved to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his side.

it was okay that jason struggled with physical affection, and it was okay that you struggled with words of affirmation.

but, at times like this, it came so naturally.

[lovebugism]

Ohh can I please request something fluffy and funny for Eddie with the prompt “ I forgot to pack my enthusiasm. ”? Maybe him, reader and all the gang (if you want to add them too) go to a trip to the beach and Eddie is not very enthusiastic about it because of you know, sunburn, sand everyone and then something touch his foot while he is in the water and he is like "nope, ok I'm out of here".

Sorry if it's too specific 😅

hi love! thanks for your request!! — the one where eddie hates the beach, but he's super in love with you (fluff, established relationship, 1.5k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

“I just put on sunscreen!” Eddie grouses like a child as you smear the lotion over his milky white shoulders. 

The cool cream mixed with the magic of your touch makes his skin prickle with chill bumps. Despite his boyish dramatics, he sits obediently on the edge of your shared bed as you lather him with sun protectant. He’ll take any opportunity to be touched by you.

You scoff. “Yeah, on your tattoos.”

“Well, where else is it supposed to go?”

You want to scold him, but he flashes you a look from beneath his lashes before you can. His chocolate syrup eyes blink up at you, brows furrowed in a puppy-like pout. You don’t even realize you’re smiling at him until you’re already grinning like an idiot.

“What’s the point of only putting sunscreen in one place?” you ask, laughing while you smooth the cream over his arms. You hold his wrist in one hand and rub it in with the other, doing it for both arms until the white sheen is mostly gone. “You might as well just put it on the rest of your body.”

“I don’t care about the rest of my body.”

“Well, I care about the rest of your body, Eddie Munson,” you retort with a stern sort of gentleness. 

You see a twinkle form in the dark brown of his wide eyes and a smile quirk the edges of his pink lips. You can practically hear the sex joke bouncing around in his head — “you take extra good care of the rest of my body, too, sweetheart.” 

Before he can say anything, you continue.

“And I don’t want you to get skin cancer, alright?” you argue as you smear the sunscreen over his chest. 

He’s as soft as he is pale, almost obscenely so. Your fingers glide over his skin with ease, occasionally running over his tattoos and the sparse hair sprinkled on his sternum. You caress him absentmindedly — touching him just to touch him and totally forgetting you’re doing him a service. 

“Also, I really don’t wanna hear you complain about getting sunburnt.”

“Rude,” he pouts.

You meet his playful scowl with a smile. 

With what’s left over on your fingertips, you rub the rest of the sunscreen onto his face. Your thumbs smear over his chin, nose, and the apples of his cheeks. Your fingers disappear beneath his fluffy bangs when you make sure to get his forehead, too.

“For caring about you? Absolutely.”

He grins at your admission of love — not entirely an ‘I love you’ but basically the same thing. 

As your fingers dance over his face, his eyes flit down to the rest of your body. Your chest is level with his face now. He can’t be entirely blamed for his ogling.

You’re wearing the bathing suit he got you — his one condition to coming on this trip with you and the rest of the gang. 

It was black to match his swim trunks and mostly plain because he couldn’t really afford anything else. The high-waisted bottoms fan out in a pretty little skirt, and the bikini is clasped together with a metal heart in the center.

“Maybe we should stay in today,” Eddie advises with his head tilted to his shoulder. His hands creep around the backs of your thighs, urging you to step closer between his legs. His chocolate gaze lingers on the pendant between your breasts before his eyes flit up to yours. 

He smiles and his words drip from his mouth like honey. “We can have our own fun in here, you know?”

“As good as that sounds…” you singsong as you smooth a few ornery curls behind his ear. “…I sorta promised Max I’d let her teach me out to surf… And also, I really wanna swim.”

Eddie deflates. His boyish pout returns to him, and he groans.

You laugh when the boy flops dramatically back onto the mattress. 

“C’mon, Eds! You could at least try and have a good time!”

“Yeah, I think I forgot to pack my enthusiasm this trip, sweetheart…”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” you tease, climbing onto the bed beside him. You maneuver on your knees until you’re sitting just next to him, your feet curled beneath you. His hand rises to your thigh like its muscle memory for him. His warm palm spreads over your skin. You smooth a hand over his pale knuckles. “It’s gonna be fun, okay? I promise.”

“No. It’s gross,” he retorts with his features contorted in abhorrence. “The water is disgusting, and you get sand in places sand should never be, and I hate it.”

He tilts his cheek to the mattress to flash you a dramatic pout, wide-eyed and jut-lipped. You meet it with a more mischievous grin as you lean over him. Your smirking face is level with his, your breasts so achingly close. 

“Well, I’ll help you clean off when we get back, yeah? Make sure all the side is off you,” you offer, almost whispering in your honeyed tone. You arch a brow down at him. “Sound like a plan?”

Eddie nods, slow and sloppy, until the words catch up to him. 

He stammers, “Yeah— Yeah, that… That sounds… Yeah.”

—————

You try and fail to surf. Max Mayfield turned out to be a pretty good teacher, and you actually got the hang of balancing pretty quickly, but salt water up the nose was no joke. You coughed until your chest ached, eyes watering and nostrils stinging.

Eddie sat on the shore with you, crouched at your side while he patted between your shoulder blades with a firm hand. “Shit, babe. You okay?” he questioned with his features scrunched in worry. You nodded even though your throat was raw. He begged you to stay out of the water, but you only begged him to play a game of chicken against Robin and Steve in return. 

It isn’t any wonder who won that argument.

You were sitting on Eddie’s shoulders some minutes later, wherein you also tried and failed to win at chicken. 

Robin Buckley was far stronger than anyone has ever given her credit for. You like to think you put up a good fight, but the second her hands curled around your forearms, you were a goner.

The water sparkles around you when you feel backwards into it. You plug your nose as you plunge, still distantly fearful of getting water up it again, but you don’t hurry to return to the surface. The water is warm and feels like the most vivid shade of blue. 

You revel in it for a few moments until you hear panicking from up above you.

“What the shit?” you hear Eddie shout, muffled until your head’s above water again. The waves jostle you as the boy begins to flail. “What the shit?!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve shouts for you because you haven’t got the breath for it yet.

“Something touched me!”

Your brows furrow. Through labored breaths, you wonder, “What?”

Eddie snaps his head over to you. His damp curls stick to his cheeks and forehead, glowing red from fleeting panic and a day in the sun. His eyes are wide and swimming with boyish horror. “Something touched my foot!”

Robin ducks underwater to look. 

Dustin, playing lifeguard some feet away, dives in behind her with his goggles. They’re almost cartoonishly too big for his round face. 

You stay on the surface with Eddie. Your eyes flit from his retreating figure to the two kids searching for whatever had frightened him.

Dustin comes up first. He inhales a sharp gasp before shouting, “Everyone stay calm! It’s just a turtle!” he announces, though most of the group is too far away to hear him. Or otherwise care.

“You hear that, Eds?” you shout to the boy walking to shore with one eye squinted to hide from the sun. A giggle sputters from your mouth before you can stop it. “It’s just a turtle, babe!”

Eddie shakes his head like a wet dog. He hates the feeling of it sticking to his face, even more so when it’s all straw-like from salt water. That, combined with grains of burning sand between his toes, is almost unbearable.

“Nope. Don’t care. I’m done,” he complains like a child.

“C’mon, Eds—”

“I love you, but I think I hate that beach more,” Eddie interjects as he wraps a towel around his shoulders. He stands beneath the shaded umbrella, crosses his arms over his chest, and shivers when a cooler breeze rolls by. It makes the water droplets on his reddened skin feel like ice. “I mean, it’s really close, babe, but I can’t take it anymore.”

You stay in the water, kicking your feet and moving your arms to stay afloat, as you admire the boy on the beach. He’s a raincloud standing underneath a yellow sun, otherworldly levels of cute despite how visibly grumpy he is.

You shake your head — both at his dramatics and how much you adore him despite them. 

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you confess softly, looking at him with the fondest smile anyone’s ever looked at him with.

His chest warms. He can’t tell if it’s from your words or the sunburn he’s getting even though you spent several minutes putting sunscreen on him. 

He grumbles, too pouty to be kind, “I am never letting you do this to me again.”

[library-ducky]

Ghouls on vacation

Totally not inspired by me going to the seaside over the weekend. Not at all.

HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT, LET'S GO

AETHER

gets everything set up

if there's a Papa nearby, he will make him sit down and rest, no buts

he'll go swimming, but will not put his head under the water. And he'll do at least one dive-bomb to soak any unfortunate soul who is close enough

he'll read crime mistery books while lounging on a deck chair (bonus point if there's a beer in his hand)

he has the Dad™️ fit: flip-flops, swimming trunks (with palm trees or dolphins or pineapples on them), an open hawaian shirt and the sunglasses and baseball cap combo

RAIN

knows how to surf

idk how or when or where he'd learn, but he DOES

also the sun brings out his bioluminescent spots (the biology probably doesn't check out but idc, I headcanon that he has bioluminescent freckles and the sun brings out freckles so)

(in his human glamour), he doesn't tan a lot (I might be projecting but it's *MY* headcanon and *I* get to choose the bitch that will simply not tan 😤)

if possible, he'll unglamour just to dive as deep as he can go

he's the bastard that brings out the pretty rocks and seashells

might also befriend a fish or two while he's at it

he pulls the "my hair is wet so I have to shake the water off OH NO I WAS STANDING TOO CLOSE AND SOMEONE GOT SPRAYED this surely was not on purpouse I would never 🥺👉🏻👈🏻"

PHANTOM

he'd be a bit scared to go in at first, but ultimately would get coaxed into it

he swims by doggy paddling for the better part of his time at the beach. He knows how to swim, that's just more fun to him

builds sandcastles (and honestly slays at it)

hates the feeling of salt in his hair after it dries, so Cumulus brings a water bottle along so he can rinse it out when he gets out of the sea

he gets HUNGRY after a swim

tries to dive along with Rain, but isn't able to go as deep since he's not a water Ghoul. He will, however, make it his job to point out pretty seashells and demand Rain gets them for him

SWISS

an absolute heathen in the water

he'll creep up behind people (mostly Dew or Phantom) and push their head under the water

he steals a bucket from Phantom and uses it to absolutely SOAK Aurora with the water he scoops from the sea

he tans both in human glamour and in actual Ghoul form

also knows how to surf (dude bro energy fr fr)

he'll be a menace and playfully tease and torment everyone but as soon as someone tells him to stop, he'll be on his best behaviour

reminds everyone to drink water (resorted to throwing a bottle at Rain's head one time cuz he would ignore him and refuse to stop swimming. Rain listened immediately)

DEWDROP

hair in a high bun IMMEDIATELY, will NOT let them get wet

unless Swiss pulls him under, but that usually warrants Swiss getting chased up and down the beach for 15 minutes with a fuming (HAH) Dew behind him

he'd bring a sunshade umbrella to stick in the sand (and then not use it cuz he likes to bask in the sun)

he'd also join Phantom in his sandcastle endeavours by digging a moat around the structure

will swim, but only for a little bit, he'd rather make himself sizzle in the sun

he doesn't really tan, but also doesn't get a sunburn (something something fire Ghoul)

Cumulus still manhandles him into putting on sunscreen (as she does with everyone)

MOUNTAIN

THE SUN MAKES HIS FRECKLES SO PROMINENT AND EVERYONE LOOKS AT HIM LIKE 💖👄💖

usually throws his hair into a haphazard bun and leaves it like that for the entire time

he jumps into the water EXCLUSIVELY by diving headfirst

he doesn't mind the salt on his skin after he dries off, he's used to the grime from the greenhouse and the gardens anyways

he tans, and the freckles on his shoulders/back/collarbone get much more visible as well

his cheeks also get a bit pinker from the sun and everyone calls him adorable because of it

will observe the local flora and fauna, he just can't help himself honestly (and he WILL tell Rain all the sea life fun facts he knows)

drinks only water, but occasionally he'll treat himself to a pre-mixed cocktail if Cumulus brings any (she always does)

CUMULUS

mom friend fr

brings an extra tube of sunscreen (both for the body and the face) just in case someone forgets

manhandles EVERYONE into putting it on

also brings some extra towels in case someone gets theirs wet by accident or forgets it completely

she packs snacks and fruit, as well as drinks (the cooler bag carried by Aether, of course)

she likes swimming, and doesn't mind diving or getting her hair wet (her hair gets really curly and fluffy when it's dry and everyone thinks it's the cutest thing ever)

reads romance novels

she steals the sunshade from Dew, he doesn't need it anyways

helps people to brush out their hair if they need it after a swim

the only person who could convince Rain to get out of the water immediately

CIRRUS

Rich Wine Aunt energy and she shows it

black bikini with a black sheer robe over it

big sunglasses and a big ass hat as well

she doesn't really go swimming a lot, she preferes to tan

reads horror novels on the beach

usually drinks a cosmopolitan cocktail while she lounges, sometimes (although rarely) a beer

she keeps her hair down for the added Dramatic Effect

she keeps everyone (or at least the Ghouls not in the water) cool with her air magic (Dew asked her to stop doing that for him cuz he likes burning in the sun)

will not tolerate being bothered in her peace (she will, actually, but she'll be extremely annoyed about it)

SUNSHINE

much like Dew, she loves to bask in the warmth of the sun

her hair gets hella curly and bouncy from the salt water

she has a whole "after tanning" routine so her skin won't get messed up

also she tans quite a lot

uses a tanning jam

likes to nap under the sunshade with Cumulus

she puts on headphones, plays some music aaaaand she's dozing off

the third surfer of the group (YES I'M HAVING "MALIBU RISING" BRAINROT IT'S SUCH A GOOD SUMMER BOOK)

makes necklaces out of the shells Rain picks up (if she manages to convince him to give some up)

star shaped sunglasses

AURORA

helps Phantom build sandcastles

also brings pretty rocks (and steals shells from Rain when he's not there) to decorate them

she LOVES swimming and diving

"her hair turns bright pink in salt water" ~@ligovskaya (okay Barbie mermaid toy moment 💅🏻✨️)

she does her nails on theme (either to do with the sea, the beach, fish, so on and so forth)

is in the process of learning how to surf and is being taught by Sunshine

she likes to listen to music but like on an ipod shuffle with wired headphones

has heart shaped sunglasses (got them from Sunshine cuz she decided that she's adopting Aurora as a sister, therefore they have to match)

she has the cutest, frilliest pink bathing suit (she's a pink girlie to me)

uses a tanning jam as well, but mostly because it smells nice

okay, this is it for now, I will gladly do other Ghouls or Papas if you guys want, you can pop into my ask box as well :3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ reblogs are appreciated ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

fluffy kid!stancest first kiss on glass shard beach would be so cute maybe by the swings or when they first find what would become the stan o war

combining these two together, but 2nd anon PLEASE know your ask got me writing old stancest at first that immediately turned hurt and comfort, so i'll be posting that when i actually finish it udndhdhdu this one is a bit of a rush job, BUT i hope you guys like it! this is my first time writing kid stancest, trying to run my head over how boys just banter and this is the best i could relay lmao. also if ford's internal dialogue isnt as flowery as it ought to be, it's mostly because i do still want it to sound like it's coming from a child, and i imagine Ford's internal dialogue wasn't fully realized until he's at least a littls older, you know?

anyway enough stalling: please enjoy!

~~~

Ford thinks he could stay like this forever.

Sitting on a crate, Stanford watches Stanley draw on the sand with the end of a big stick, planning all their great adventures when they finally get out of this place, the promise of their Big Day of Adventure made them giddy all day, bouncing on the heels of their feet all over the beach until the deck guys they "borrowed" a can of paint from earlier found them, chasing them off and forcing the two of them to take cover. They did, only belatedly realizing they had to come back for their ship since their dream did rely on them fixing up the boat to be in top condition for it to sail. Luckily they didn't take their ship, so the two of them were able to push it back into the alcove they found it, keeping it their own little secret.

Ford looks at it in awe again. In bold letters, "The Stan O' War" stares back at him. Their promise of the future. A future with his brother, forever

"And then— Poindexter are ya listening?!" Stan asks, tapping the stick lightly on Ford's head who swats it away with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah! I am, I am!"

"Good, cuz you better hear this!" Stan resumes drawing on the sand. Ford looks down, tilting his head quizically.

"Why are we standing on top of the sun?"

"That's an octopus!" Stan points to the pile of squigly lines Ford thought had been the ocean. "See?"

"That's still kinda impossible."

"Aw, shuddap!" Stan scoffs playfully, then proceeds to draw fish tails with long noses and circle ends.  "Of course its possible! This is after I killed it, and we're doin' a victory cheer on top of it!" Stan pumps his fist in the air, and begins chanting, echoing loud across the alcove: "PINES! PINES! PINES! And after—"

"Wait, how did we kill it?"

"I beat it up, duh!"

"What did I do?"

Stan huffs. "You math, science and bored it to death, you big nerd," he says with an annoyed expression, which quickly gives away to snickers as he dodges the fistful of sand Ford throws in his direction, leaving a grainy cloud in its wake. Stan points back at his drawing, at the long nosed fish with lines protruding off the top. Until Ford blinks, and tilts his head again, realizing that the messy scribbles are probably meant to be... "Anyway, after we totally beat this giant octopus monster, all the mermaid babes will be all over us! They'd give us kisses, and hugs, and and–"

Covering his mouth with his hand, Ford snorts loudly. "Stanley... you want to kiss fish ladies?"

An offended look crosses Stan's face, and if it wasn't for the sunburn already staining his and Ford's skin an angry, blistering red, Ford could swear Stan was blushing, his cheeks puffing, brown eyes wide and fists clenching. Cute, Ford thinks, so quickly, he almost doesn't catch it.

But he does.

Just like how his shoulder catches Stan's fists, sending him to more fits of giggling as he goes down.

"Shaddup, shaddup, shut uuuuuuuup," Stan continues his playful assault, clearly trying to not to smile, but Ford's laughter catches him like the infectious bug that went around school three months ago, and his grin stretches wild as he pushes Ford to the ground, and planting himself on Ford's short legs. Ford's hand land on his shoulders, trying and obviously failing at pushing off his stronger brother with all his twelve fingered might, but maybe it's because Ford is laughing too much he's out of breath, chest shaking while he heaves his giggles. Maybe it's the weird but nice heaviness Stan is forcing on him, and Ford counts that as the fifth time this day Stan made him feel that: 'weird but nice.'

Yesterday was seven whole times.

"Get off me, jerk!"

"You're the jerk," Stan argues, catching Ford's hands and pinning them down to the sand, grinning at Ford who's completely caught under him. "You've been making fun of me the whole time!"

"No I wasn't! I think it's cool you wanna kiss fish ladies!"

"They're not fish ladies, Sixer! They're mermaids!" Stan argues, looking a lot like Ford when he exasperatedly explains that solving the daily crossword on the newspaper is not lame, just with the additional large gap between his teeth, bandage on his face, cute puffy cheeks, which almost sends Ford to another laughing fit. "Mermaids are cool! No, they're hot!"

"If you say so," Ford shrugs, feeling the soft grains of sand move against his back. "They'd smell like fish though, but I think you would like that."

"Pfff," Stan lets go and straightens up to blow a raspberry, tilting himself to flop onto the sand next to Ford, moving so his fingers brushed Ford's when at their hips. Sixth. "Like you're any different. I bet you have a lot of weird stuff you wanna kiss too. You're obsessed with your ano– anama—"

"Anamolies."

"Aliens. I bet you wanna kiss aliens."

"No I don't!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"I don't," Ford insists, but he's definitely thought about it. Not in a weird way, of course. He wonders about kissing a lot of things, like growing boys do, like the health developmental sections of science books say so! Girls. Boys sometimes.

Boys most of the time.

A boy, most of the time.

"If you say so," Stan repeats dismissively, stretching his arms over his head while Ford watches behind his glasses. Feeling the sand starting to get to that 'pointy, sticky and annoying' state when someone lays on it, he sits up, eyes landing on the Stan O' War again. Stan follows, quickly sitting up.

"What'cha thinking of?"

"Just wondering the capability of weight distribution on the boat."

"Uh...."

"I wonder if it's actually strong enough to hold us up to sail. We're gonna have to fix that up before we take it to the water, remember? Maybe it's not even built for two people."

The last part came out of his mouth without thinking, and Ford is alarmed with the quick moment of doubt. For a second, their dream seemed a little impossible.

Stan pushes himself up, and runs to the stationed boat.

"Stan? What are you—"

"Keep up, Sixer!" Stan exclaims, grabbing onto the ledge of the boat, and suddenly Ford is running after his brother. All caution thrown out of his system when Stan lifts himself over the edge and on top of the boat's deck effortlessly.

"Stan!"

"Look, Ford, it's fine!" Stan exclaims, arms spread wide and standing victoriously. Ford grabs hold of the ledge, and tries to lift his legs over, only to almost fall off with a "Whoa!"— until Stan's hand latches onto his.

"Hold on," Stan tugs until Ford's body lifts high enough for him to wrap his arms around Ford's shoulders. He grunts, pulling the rest of his twin's body with all his strength before falling onto the deck, Ford landing on top of his legs.

Somehow, they find themselves almost exactly as before, just in reverse, skin still grainy and sticky and hot-red, Ford's chest shaking again but this time it's from panting in the short burst of physical activity. His face close to Stan's, Ford feels a bubbling in his chest, a little tingle all over his skin. One he wants to blame on the summer heat still simmering outside the cave or maybe the sunburn all over his back and torso, but it's not that.

Seventh.

"You're kinda heavy for a stick, Sixer."

Ford punches his shoulder this time, smirking. "Shut up, jerk."

"Now you hate it," Stan comes back smugly, then glances down at the deck. "Hey, look! It can hold the both of us after all!"

Remembering his previous concerns, he looks down on the boat, then raps his knuckles onto the floorboards. It's actually pretty sturdy for how old Ford theorized it to be. That's pretty cool.

"Guess we can cross that out of the stuff we have to fix up," Ford concludes. He pushes his glasses over his nose, thinking deeply again. "Still have a lot of stuff to consider though. Plus, who knows how much bigger we'll get too..." He muses, mostly to himself.

So many to consider... Ford doesn't think even his freakish hands could count all the ways it could go right, or wrong, if it goes anywhere at all... it's kind of big, and open, and Ford thinks it's almost like the ocean itself.

"Eh, don't worry about that stuff so much, Sixer," Stan shrugs, his voice breakjng through Ford's train of thought. Ford realizes he's still very much on Stanley's legs, and maybe it's because all the running, pushing, wrestling they've done all day that completely wrung him out, or maybe it's because the warm bubbling in his chest that overflows and keeps his own legs stuck like sap, but unlike Stan, Ford can't bring himself to move off, move away from Stan. His brown eyes wide, grin with a goofy gap in the teeth and cheeks puffing, Stan looks ready to sail off right then and there.

"As long as you've got me, we can do everything. We're getting out of this place no matter what."

Ford smiles warmly. Somehow he could never get tired doing that around his brother and that's weird. It's nice. His hands find Stan's shoulders, and without thinking, he blurts out:

"Stanley... It wasn't aliens."

"Wait, wha—"

And Ford presses his lips to Stan's. He doesn't really know how to do this. It's kinda gross, with Stan tasting like sand and sweat from rolling around it all day, but so did Ford and getting past that, it just feels good. Almost on instinct, he pulls away panic rising at throat, because Oh no, Stan will think I'm a freak too.

But Stan leans forward too, almost knocking Ford's glasses away and also not knowing what he's doing, but it feels nice. Really, really nice.

Eighth.

Ford thinks he could stay counting those forever.

~~

If you like this send another prompt or a prompt of your own! Hope you liked this anons, be it sufficiently fluffy enough lmao

[xoxochb]

Heyy I was wondering if you could do Leo Valdez x fem Poseidon reader hc but on the beach together? And the Poseidon girl got sun burnt cheeks while playing in the water and suddenly seeing a baby green sea turtle and she is just casually having a conversation with it while Leo is just nodding along and also admiring her a little?

⋆·˚ ༘ * clear blue water, high tide came and brought you in

warnings: short

pairing: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon

you loved the beach

it’s probably assumed because you’re the daughter of the sea god, but you like to think that you’d like the beach regardless

the worst part of the beach, however, was sunburns.

a pinkish-red hue was coating your cheeks, burning at the touch of the sun rays, but you couldn’t care less because all you cared about was swimming with your boyfriend

“y/n/n, how about we take a break from swimming? your cheeks are all red” leo asks worriedly

“you’re not my mom” you glare at him

“no- but I am-” he was cut off by you rushing to the shore, “what’re you doing?”

“a turtle!” you beam, and start conversing with it

leo doesn’t know what the sea animal is saying to you, but all he knows is that your happy, and it comforts him to see you smiling. he watches you with a lovesick expression, admiring the way you get along with the sea creature so easily, and the way your hair falls almost perfectly into place, your smile so wide, cheeks red from the heat of the sun, he was in deep

“leo! get over here!” you beckon him over, and he wastes no time to rush over to the shore, eager to be beside you

[shdo-xplosion]

SLIMEBALL!AIZAWA X READER

Warnings: dubcon, explicit content, aizawa wrestles with his conscience but his dick wins, aloe vera as lube, talk of when reader was his student, almost somnophilia, fingering, p in v, creampie, cum play, fem-bodied reader, reader is white-coded, described as turning pink/red from sunburn

Word Count: 2.1k

Notes: my contribution to the Wet Hot Slimeball Summer collab! thank you to @bastardblvd for letting me join! i’ve been wanting to write aizawa for a little while now and this just possessed me. hope everyone has fun with it, and make sure to check out the masterlist for more slimy content!

He should wake you up, give you a nudge where you lay in your beach towel, but Shouta can’t bring himself to. Not when he has such a perfect view of your body, the arch of your back, the curve of your ass, the way your tits squish out from beneath you, your skimpy top barely doing anything to cover them.

Fuck, he should wake you up. Your skin is already turning pink. You’re going to have painful burn lines that will peel and turn into sexy tan lines, and Shouta has to shake his head to get the image out of his mind.

His sick mind. There must be something wrong with him. You were his student for fuck’s sake, and sure, you haven’t been for a few years now. Now you’re a big shot pro, one of the top 10, but he can still remember you sitting in the back row of his classroom, mouthy, obnoxious, still learning to control your quirk.

He remembers having to tell you to shut your mouth every single day, a mouth that he finds himself staring at more and more, lips parted and pouty, and Shouta wants to slide his fingers between them, feel your tongue on his fingerprints.

But he refrains, just bites the inside of his cheek and looks out at the waves.

The beach houses are nice, other pros having rented a few out for a nice little getaway. There are still heroes in the city to protect civilians, nothing to worry about. All Shouta has to do is relax.

He’s in a house with Hizashi, All Might, Snipe, and you, and his patience is running thin. Between Toshinori’s loud ass voice and Hizashi forgetting to turn on his hearing aids, Shouta is beginning to think that maybe he does deserve a little treat. Maybe he should indulge.

No. No. Ex-student. And the media would have a field day if anything ever got leaked. Not worth it. Definitely not worth it.

But hours later finds everyone back in their respective houses, resting after a long day in the sun. Hizashi and Toshinori are passed out and Snipe has retired to his room, probably also sleeping, leaving Shouta tired but awake, listening to you hiss every time you move.

“Jesus, I haven’t had a sunburn like this since I was a kid,” you whine.

“Should’ve put on more sunscreen,” Shouta replies. Or he could’ve just woken you up. Been an actual good person instead of perving on you in your bikini.

“I meant to! But the sun felt nice, and the waves were so soothing, and I just…”

“Dozed off. Just let all those UV rays cook you.”

You roll your eyes. “I don’t need a lecture, Aizawa Sensei,” you scoff, and the way the old title makes Shouta’s dick twitch in his sweatpants. Fuck.

“You’re right, you’re right. How about I go pick up some aloe vera, then?” he offers. He needs to put some space between the two of you.

“What, I’ll stop whining?”

“Maybe,” he smirks.

Once he pulls on a shirt Shouta leaves and makes his way down to the little shop at the end of the street. All it sells is beach stuff, but lucky him, that’s all he needs.

One bottle of overpriced aloe vera and a meaningless chat with the cashier, and Shouta is on his way back to the house. He wonders if you’ll lather it on in front of him. Maybe you’ll even ask him to help.

The lightweight shirt you had put on earlier must be too much for your raw skin because you’ve gotten rid of it, walking around in a t-shirt bra and little shorts. Have you gotten even redder?

“Oh, thank god.”

“Let me throw it in the freezer for a few minutes,” Shouta says, pulling the bottle out of your reach when you practically lunge for it. “It’ll feel better cold.”

“But Aizawaaa,” you pout, sounding a lot like a petulant child, crossing your arms only to whimper and drop them back to your hips.

“It’ll be worth it. I promise.” Without giving it much thought he hooks a finger under your chin, thumb flicking your pushed-out bottom lip. When you don’t recoil from the touch, he fights to keep from pulling you closer.

Unfortunately, you don’t ask him for help when you apply the cold cream to your skin, but Shouta is granted a look at your hardened nipples through the material covering them, the icy aloe making you break out in goosebumps.

“Thank you for getting this,” you say genuinely. “It’s gonna make my nap so much easier.”

Shouta has always been good at hiding his emotions, so you aren’t able to see the disappointment he feels as he watches you retreat to your room, the green bottle in hand.

It’s fine though because an hour later he finds himself creeping in after you, eyes locked on your sleeping form. You’re lying on your stomach, likely to avoid the burn on your back that you weren’t able to reach. No blankets are covering you, the heat from your skin keeping you well warmed.

The bottle of aloe is on the nightstand, and Shouta reaches for it—room temperature now, and squirts some in his hand.

He’s doing you a favor, he reasons with himself. Your back is an ugly (beautiful) red, and he wants to help soothe you.

His hands on you don’t wake you immediately, just make you sigh and snuggle further into your pillow. Shouta gently rubs the remedy over you, as careful as possible. You feel so nice under his palms, so warm and smooth, the dip of your back calling to him. He could make you arch further, make your hips roll and buck. Your shorts ride low, waistband just above the swell of your ass, and Shouta wants nothing more than to rip them off, but he resists. Instead, he rubs up your sides, slowly and purposefully, fingers barely dipping beneath the elastic of your bra so that he grazes the sides of your tits.

That makes you stir, eyes slowly opening as tired little noises make their way out of your throat.

“”zawa?” you ask quietly, and his self-control breaks.

“Shh, just relax,” he tells you in a low voice. “It’s okay, m’just taking care of you.”

He sees your eyebrows furrow, and you try to roll over, but his strong hand presses against the small of your back to keep you from turning.

He unclasps your bra, squirts a generous amount of aloe between your shoulder blades, and begins working again. At first he thinks you believe that his actions truly are innocent. You can’t see or feel how hard he is in his sweats, how precum is already beading at his tip.

That belief is shattered when he moves his hands upward again, this time sliding under you to cup your tits.

“Aizawa!” You push yourself so that you’re sitting up awkwardly, but all it does is make it easier for him to grope you and press his lips to your shoulder.

“You don’t have to pretend you don’t want this,” he drawls, smirking into your skin. “I haven’t forgotten about your little schoolgirl crush.” Because as much as you may have annoyed him in class, you still looked at him with hearts in your eyes. It was easy for him to deduce that all your smartass comments were just to get his attention.

“That doesn’t mean…” You trail off when he pinches both of your nipples, pulling a quiet moan from you.

“Just once, sweetheart. You owe me after teasing me the last few days.”

“I wasn’t…”

“Walking around in your short little dresses, prancing around with these pretty tits falling out of your bikini tops.” He gives you a tight squeeze before letting go of the plump flesh in order to trail his hands down further. “Let me have you just once.”

You only resist a little when he pushes you back down on the bed, face down again. You’ve lost your bra, and Shouta is quick to pull your cotton shorts down your legs, revealing that you’re wearing nothing underneath them.

He groans, groping your ass, bouncing your cheeks before spreading them to show your folds.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he growls, running a finger down your slit as far as he can. You’re already wet for him—such a good girl—but he still wants to get you slicked up and messy.

Shouta grabs the bottle of aloe vera once again, covering his fingers with it then slowly pushing two of them inside of you.

“Ahh, fuck, ‘zawa,” you gasp. With your cheek against the pillows, Shouta can see the way your mouth opens, eyes wide as they flick around to whatever you can see. Your body is tense, but you aren’t fighting him, thighs parting a little more.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he purrs. You don’t respond, just bite your bottom lip. Doesn’t matter. As long as you let him touch you he’ll be a happy man.

Pumping his fingers, Shouta stares at your reddened skin and gets the idea to mark you, presses his fingertips into your flesh then pulls them away, admiring the light circles they leave behind. Mesmerized, he grips your ass with one hand, squeezing to create those same marks just under the curve.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” He punctuates it with a spank that makes you jolt, but you quickly melt when he curls his fingers a certain way. “You ready for my cock, baby? I’ll be gentle. I know you’re sore.”

A lie. He slicks himself up with more aloe then thrusts into your heat all at once, stretching you on his fat cock and holding you in place when you squirm.

“Y-you said… nnfuck.”

“I know what I said, but your pussy is just too—” he snaps his hips back and forth, eyes rolling in his head. “Too sweet. Can’t help it.”

Shouta tugs you up so that you’re on your knees, back pressed to him, and he knows the friction is hurting you, the coarse hair on his chest chafing your raw skin, but at this angle he can reach in front of you to play with your neglected clit, massaging it with two fingers.

“‘zawa let me… at least let me ride you,” you plead.

It’s a tempting thought, but… “you feel so good like this, though. So warm, taking my cock so well.”

He presses a hand low on your tummy, swears he can feel his dick moving, but he gets distracted when you let your head hang back to rest on his shoulder. Opportunity presents itself with your neck so open, and Shouta wraps his fingers around your throat, just barely squeezing.

He’s so deep inside you, cockhead nudging your cervix. Ohh, he wants to fuck you so full of his cum, wants to see you sprawled on the mattress dripping with him, wants to see you ruined.

Words stick in your throat, but your lips are moving like you want to say something. Shouta pants in your ear, “what is it, baby? What do you want?”

“Wanna—wanna cum,” you whimper, and now Shouta knows that you’ve fully accepted him. You’re not mad at him for fucking you, no. You want this. You want him.

“Cum, then,” he growls, nipping your earlobe. “Cum on my cock, I wanna feel your pussy—”

Your back arches painfully, sensitive skin pulling taut as you cry out and cream all over him. Feeling your cunt contract around him, Shouta fucks into you harder and deeper, using you like a rag doll as he gets lost in your climax, climbing to his own.

He’s not sure he’s ever cum so hard in his life, thick lines shooting from his dick and coating your guts. Shouta bites into your shoulder hard enough for you to yelp and try to slap him away, but all of his muscles are so tight that even his jaw is locked. His hips stutter as strings of white keep shooting into you, your used cunt so full of him that it starts leaking back out of you.

When he pulls out, Shouta scoops some of his cum out of you, dazed as he smears it down the pink of your spine.

“What the hell are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, falling forward onto the mattress and glaring.

Shouta shrugs his shoulders. “Aloe works just as good as lube. Maybe cum’ll work well as aloe.”

“That’s disgusting.”

So is he. But at least he finally learned to relax on his vacation.

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

[pattypanini]

Danny Wagner x Reader

Hard Strokes

Summary: The bar cart girl at Danny's routine golf course grabs his attention during a frustrating game, but could a date by the pool relax him?

Word Count: 3k

Taglist for Oneshots

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is @mar-rein12 and I's first one shot. This was a fun one to write after writing the series for so long. We will continue to write LAYLOM and one shots. If you have any ideas let us know. Please enjoy our first one shot, Hard Strokes.

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, penetrative sex, oral (f receiving), DANNYS NOSE 🤤

Danny’s POV

Fuck. You were playing like shit today. You throw your golf club into the luscious green, yet again in anger. As if it couldn't get any worse, the hot bar cart girl drives past for the 5th time today. She’s probably judging you for your shitty playing. You were only on hole 8 and were almost into the 50s.

It was a hot one today, considering it was mid-July. Your sunglasses slipping off your face, everytime you look down to line up the ball with your club. You could feel the sunburn on your tanned cheeks and sweat penetrating through your white golf shirt. You feel impossibly gross mixed with the anger of your horrible performance. Only 10 more holes to go. 

You sigh and swing at the ball again, of course missing. You double over, hands on your knees and take a deep breath. You are about to call it quits until she pulls up to you. 

“Hey!” She says enthusiastically, with the brightest smile on her freckled face. You whip around to face her, to see her sitting there in the golf cart staring, patiently waiting for a response. 

“Hey.” You say, a little pissy. You take the opportunity to take her in. She was dressed in a little white, pleated tennis skirt with a pink polo tank top. Her hair was put up into a slicked back ponytail, sticking out of her Titleist visor. Despite the heat, she still managed to look so perfect and put together. 

“How about a drink? It’s scorching out today, you look like you need a refresher,” she winks at you, grabbing a beer out of the cooler and shaking it in your direction. 

“Nah, I don’t deserve it,” you chuckle a little, in self-pity. 

“Oh come on, treat yourself! I’ll drink one with you, if that will make you feel better.” She smiles sweetly, and you can’t help but give in. 

“Ugh, okay. You’ve convinced me.” You tease her reaching for your wallet. “I’ll have two beers. What kind you got?” 

“PBR and corona.”

“I’ll take the two PBR.”She reaches into the cooler and grabs them. Her ass sticking out of her skimpy skirt, as she reaches over to the passenger side of the cart. 

“That’ll be $9.” She hands them over to you, as you hand her a twenty dollar bill with your empty hand. 

“Thank you, here you take this one.” You hand her the one beer, she reluctantly takes it back. Her fingertips grazing the back of your hand. 

“A-are you sure?” She says as she takes it out of your grip.

“1000%, also, just keep the change.”  She stares back at you in silence. You crack open your can, taking a large sip. You turn to walk back to your golf cart when you hear her voice again.

“Wait… I didn’t catch your name!” Oh her sweet, innocent voice. You turn back around to face her. 

“Uh, I’m Danny. What's your name?” 

“I’m Y/n.” She shoots you a big smile, showing off her perfectly straight white teeth. 

You smirk at her, “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” When you finish that sentence, you notice her cheeks flush. You find it quite amusing how easily you’re affecting her. 

“Oh, thank you. You have a nice name too. I’ve definitely seen you around before, you come a lot?” She cracks her own beer open, taking a sip of it. 

“Yeah, I’m here every weekend.” You stop talking and there's a moment of silence, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of golf balls being hit in the distance. 

“Um… my shift is actually almost over,” she looks done at the apple watch adorning her wrist and then looking back up at you. “ Do you want to meet me at the clubhouse at 3? Grab a little something for lunch?”

You give her a warm smile, “Yeah, yes. I’d, um, I’d love to! It's probably about time I wrap it up anyway, I’m playing like shit today.” She giggles a little and you feel warmth spread throughout your chest, and noticeably feel your heart rate quicken. What a beautiful noise.

“Ok sounds good! I’ll see you then!” She hits you with a wink, and drives off toward a small group of older men. 

You stand there in shock at the previous interaction, shaking your head trying to rid the thoughts plaguing your mind. She was gorgeous. 

You turn back around to your cart and drive over to the next hole. 

—

The next 30 minutes go exactly how you expect, horrible. You end up not finishing the game because you were just so fed up with yourself. It’s been a while since you’ve played this bad. It was almost three o’clock anyway, so you would soon be meeting up with Y/n. You hop onto the golf cart and whip over to the clubhouse. You know she is there already because a golf cart with a light pink steering wheel cover is sitting outside. 

You smile to yourself just thinking about her. You jump off the cart and slip into the main entrance of the clubhouse, walking down the hall to the restaurant area. You turn the corner and see her sitting at a two top, talking to some elderly men at another table. You halt your steps, taking a moment to admire the radiant smile on her face. You’re sure you’ve never seen anyone more beautiful. And she invited you to lunch? 

She hears footsteps behind her, whipping her head around, her silky, shiny ponytail flowing along. “Danny! I’m so happy you came! How did the rest of your game go?” She smiles brightly at you, almost in awe.

You cringe a little thinking back to how you were playing earlier. “Eh, I didn't really finish. It’s hot as fuck out there.” You hope she doesn’t catch your white lie. “Besides, I needed to get lunch with you.” Now, that you were being truthful about.

You watch her eyes light up, a nervous giggle escaping from her plump lips. “Yeah, haha. Wanna order some food?”

“Yes, I’m starving.”

—

After you both order your food, you getting a burger and her getting a salad, you realize you’re getting lost in conversation with her. Y/n is very easy to talk to, and she is really funny. Throughout the next hour, there's multiple times you almost spit out your beer or choke on your burger. When you both finish up your meals, you are saddened by the fact you inevitably have to part ways.

“Y/n, I really enjoy talking to you.” You admit to her, a blush forming across both of your cheeks. 

“I like talking to you too Danny,” She says back to you, her lips curling into a beautiful grin. You watch her hesitate for a second before she opens her mouth again, “Did you want to come back to my house? My house is right over there by the tree line.” She points over her shoulder. 

You contemplate for a second, no doubt knowing how this night was going to end if you did go over there. “Are you sure? I-I don’t want to intrude.” Of course, you wanted to go over there. You just didn’t want to seem too eager. 

“No, no you wouldn’t be intruding at all. I want you to come over.” She gives you the cutest little wink and you can’t help but cave.

“Ok, then! Let's go.” You reach your hand out for her to grasp and she accepts. “Let me just pay the bill, Y/n.” 

“Oh no need. Aaron’s got me.” She looks over to the kitchen area. Aaron, the head chef, sticks his head out the door to wave. She smiles and waves back. You quickly run ahead of her pulling the door open for her. You both hop on the golf cart and she drives you back the trail to the houses that are located on the golf course. 

The feeling of the air breezing through your hair was refreshing from the hot day you just had. She pulls into her driveway, putting the cart in park. It was a very secluded area despite being in the same area as other houses. The house was lined with trees and gates, giving her lots of privacy.

“This is a really nice place y/n. Is it a lot to live on a golf course?” You hop out of the passenger seat, being able to get a better view of her beautiful house and the landscaping. 

“I have no idea, I don’t pay for it. Some random man does. In exchange, I go to his Christmas Eve parties as his ‘girlfriend.’” She says laughing. 

“Oh, really?” You say trying to not sound judgemental, but you can’t stop your face from contorting into a surprised expression. 

“No, my dad owns the place so it's daddy’s money you could say.” She says grabbing her keys to unlock the door. She opens the door and you are met with a stunning interior. She drops her bag and turns to you.

“Do you wanna go for a swim? I have a pool out back. Come on, follow me.” She starts walking to the sliding door. She opens it, stepping outside. The backyard landscaping is just as incredible as the front. Large rocks are placed as stairs leading down to a garden with flowers and vegetables. A huge underground kidney-shaped pool is placed right in the middle of the yard. Why does one girl need such a big pool? 

As you follow her down the stairs you realize you're missing something. “Um, I actually don’t have swim shorts…”. You hate to kill the mood. Hell, you’d do anything to see the girl in a bikini. 

“And…” She stares at you with a blank face. “Who said we were gonna wear them anyway?” She takes a few steps toward you. “I mean, unless you would rather me be in a bathing suit.” She says pulling on the collar of your shirt. You can’t help but shake your head anxiously. You feel your cheeks start to blush and you’re hoping she doesn’t notice.

“No, no, no bathing suits are fine with me.” A smile appears across her face again. Her hands go down to the bottom of your shirt and begin to pull it up. You help her finish her action and pull it all the way off. “Wow Danny, if I knew you were hiding that under there this whole time I would have invited you sooner.”

Your eyes widen at her words. Usually, you were the one to make the first move, but her dominance was making you shy. You wanted to impress her, to make her want you. You gulp from the nerves. 

“Don’t be shy Danny, can you help me undress now?” You obey her immediately. You kneel down in front of her, moving her foot to place it on your knee. Feeling a little bold you lean down and kiss her leg softly before untying her shoe and slipping them off her feet. You pull her skirt down and bring her shirt over her head. You take a step back to look at her in her white bra and panties. She’s so gorgeous. 

“That's no fair Danny, I can’t be the only one in my undies.” You begin to kick off your shoes and socks and before you can get to your pants she kneels in front of you. She slowly pulls them down, leaving you in only your boxers. As she goes for your boxers, she leans forward and places a soft kiss onto your noticeable bulge, making you twitch beneath her. She notices and continues to pull your boxers all the way down. 

“Now your turn, y/n.” You say looking down to her. Before she can let you, she runs and jumps into the pool. She emerges from under the water, her head bobbing just above the clear water. 

“The water is so refreshing,” she says, pulling herself up to sit on the pool ledge. “I’m waiting for you Danny, you better come join me.” You look over her body and see her wet see-through undergarments, revealing everything you wanted to see so badly. You wanted everything off so badly. 

You smirk and drop yourself into the pool and swim over to her. You brush your hair out of your face and slot yourself between her legs in the shallow end. You feel desperate but your hands immediately slide into her thighs and around her waist towards her bra. You feel around and quickly unclasp it. You hear a gasp come from her.

“Daniel, when did you learn to do that? Are you a dirty boy?” She smirks, pulling the bra off her chest.

“I will if you want me to be.” Your hands attach to her thong, that's now clinging to her wet skin, and pull them to the side. Your thumb begins to make small light circles on her clit.

“Take them off, Danny. Please.” She sounds so sweet when she begs. You grab the small piece of fabric and pull them off her.You place your hands on her tanned thighs and peel them apart. You look her up and down, fully admiring every part of her. You take your finger and glide it up her glistening folds. 

“So wet, baby. Fuck.” You bite your lip, as you admire her wetness. 

“Maybe it was from the pool.” She says in a sarcastic tone.

“I can tell the difference, baby.” You lower your face to be level with her cunt. You feel her hands wrap into your wet hair, pulling your face to bury it in her pussy. You feel her pussy grind onto your face, but not just your mouth.

“Put that nose of yours to use Danny, big noses are good for many things.” You were taken aback, but weren’t going to withhold that from her. 

You tilt your head down, pressing your nose up and down into her clit and dart your tongue into her pussy. She was a mess above you. Her hands are clenched hard around your curls, moans and curses flying from her lips. 

You break away for a moment, “All this from just my nose, are you going to be able to handle my cock baby?”

“I need it now, please Danny.” She practically whimpers out. You turn her around so her stomach is flat against the warm concrete, her ass up in the air. Her round ass being directly in your face, is the perfect opportunity to give her a nice smack upon it. She yelps after the blow, followed by the most pornographic moan you’ve ever heard. The sound alone makes you want to cum. You take a step up onto the embedded ledge underneath the water, to get a better angle. 

You lean down to whisper in her ear. “Are you ready for me, darling?” She presses her ass up against your hips, giving you the answer to your question. You line yourself up with her entrance and push slowly into her, filling up all of her small pussy. You reach forward grabbing a chunk of her hair. 

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I love the way it feels around my cock. Go ahead baby, squeeze around it won’t ya?” You feel her clench her muscles, and it fuels you to start fucking into her. You start off slow, not wanting to hurt her or surpass her limits. 

“Danny, don’t hold back. I know you want to let loose on me, I promise I can take it.” That's all the encouragement you need to go harder. As you pick up the pace, the water beneath you begins to splash  all up on your stomach and her back. 

“It’s almost like you knew I like it wet.” You tease her as you continue your assault on her pussy. 

“I can make it wetter if you can fuck me right.” She says as she looks back at you.

Your eyebrows raise and you release her hair. You take your right leg up onto the side of the pool to get a better angle, fucking her harder and deeper than before. She begins to claw at the concrete beneath, trying to hold onto whatever she could. 

“Harder.” She yells out. You don’t hold back and slam yourself into her. You can hear the skin to skin echo into the air. The water sloshing around you even more now, threatening to escape the pool. 

“Danny… oh, fuck. You feel so good. You fill me up so much. I wish I could take another one of you at the same time.” 

God, you're so close. She’s pushing you close to the edge. “I’m gonna cum baby, you want me to pull out?”

“No, fill me up. I want it leaking out of me into the pool. I’m so close” With that you cum hard inside of her. You watch as it starts to seep out of her, so you fuck it back in with a few more thrusts. “Oh god Danny I’m cumming keep going daddy.” You ride out your climax and fuck her hard now pushing her over her edge. You feel her clench around you hard, followed by many moans. 

You pull out, sitting down on the ledge in the pool you just fucked her on. Breathing heavy you both take a moment to catch your breath. Y/n turns her body around to sit up and brings you into a kiss. “You should come over more often Danny.” She says with a giggle.

“Danny? If I recall you just called me something else.” A huge smile spreads across your face. 

“Oh shut up, Daddy is close enough to Danny.”

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

TAGLIST FOR ONESHOTS

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Family Reunion

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.9k

Warning(s): none!

—————————————

It was the first time I was taking Trevor home to meet the entirety of my family. So many people in one place. Rambunctious, loud, intimidating people.

Trevor would fit right in.

I knew that, but he wouldn’t listen. No matter how many times I told him, he never believed he would be fine.

We had to fly to the city nearest to my hometown. After bidding goodbye to his lizard and leaving the poor thing with his roommate. He begged to bring Drago at first, but I insisted it wasn’t happening. My father was not a fan of animals in his home. Anything other than a dog would not pass. I knew my mother would wrinkle her nose at the sight of a lizard too.

There were certain family members I was worried about Trevor meeting. One side of my family tended to be a little more judgmental than the other side. One side was full of fun and insanity. The other side was.. well they were fun too, but sometimes new people could throw off the dynamic.

I worried Trevor would do just that, but I also told myself it was a simple Fourth of July party. Nothing to fret over. A few days we would be home, and then we’d go back to Anaheim.

I got him started on the hour drive from the airport to my childhood home, thankful that my parents wouldn’t be there to see him as soon as we got there.

We utilized the time alone. I let Trevor roam around the house, and eventually I led him up to my old bedroom. He was concerned by the sight of a twin sized bed, but I told him we’d make do with the space we had.

He asked about all of my tiny trinkets and decorations, getting to know a part of my life he was never fully immersed in. Then my parents came home and we spent the evening in the living room. Catching up, telling stories, and laughing the night away.

By the morning, Trevor was up well before me. Not early by any means, but we’d been up late, so sleeping in felt necessary.

He shook me awake around ten a.m., and we laid together for close to an hour before we slipped out of bed to get ready.

“Do you think this is overkill?” I stepped out of my closet to peek at Trevor. His blue polo was matched with a pair of white shorts. He didn’t have any red on. Nothing looked too overdone or extra. His hair looked a little poofy, but I’d blame that on the shower he took before bed, and all the moving he does when he sleeps.

“Trevor, you look fine.” I assured before I stepped back into the closet. I gave my own outfit one last look before I stepped out to slip on my shoes. I was met with the sight of a very unconvinced looking boyfriend, and I let out a sigh the second I noticed his tension.

He looked great, honestly. A piece of me wanted to stay home and celebrate the Fourth of July in another way with him. His skin was such a pretty golden color, and his cheeks were slightly pink from the beginnings of a sunburn he got back in Anaheim. I reached out to grab one of his forearms while my other hand traced the tattoo he had on the opposite arm. Nike, a beautiful statue and a meaningful symbol in his life.

“My family is going to love you. Just be yourself, yeah? Maybe don’t curse as much.. but other than that, be yourself.” I teased softly. Trevor was slow to nod before a smile made its way to his lips.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting your whole family.”

I couldn’t believe it either. I couldn’t believe it up until the moment we were pulling into my grandmother’s driveway, parking off to the side, and climbing out of the car. Then my body was buzzing with electricity. I could already hear everybody inside. We were early, so it was only immediate family there.

I walked Trevor through the garage and into the foyer. My heart was beating a mile per minute. I’m sure his was too. His hand squeezed my own as the conversation slowed. I kicked my shoes off just in time to see my baby cousin come flying out from the living room.

The little guy shouted my name in excitement before he looked back at his parents to see if they heard him.

Soon my whole family was rushing into the foyer to greet.

“Holy shit.” Trevor mumbled as he stepped up behind me, his body pressed into my back.

The hugs and endless, “how are you’s” eventually died down enough for me to introduce Trevor. The moment of truth.

“This was that plus one I was telling you guys about.”

“I’m Trevor. It’s nice to meet you guys.”

He was accepted into the family almost immediately. After he was introduced and got to know my family, he blended. He was regarded as just another visitor after more people began to arrive. I lost him after a while, only to hear him in the kitchen where my grandmother was asking him to help her carry things out to the fire pit.

Nothing meant more to me than knowing Trevor got along with my grandmother, who was usually high strung and easy to stress out.

As more people came around, the party moved outside. Kids ran about while family caught up. Everybody made their rounds meeting Trevor. He communicated well with people, that I knew, since the day we met. But he communicated even better with my family.

“He’s real sweet, you know that?”

I looked away from him to see my grandmother peering down at me with a proud smile.

“Works hard too.” She added.

“Yeah.. I love him a lot.”

“I can tell just by the way he looks at you, that he loves you too.” She pointed a finger at me. “I was so worried when you left for California. I don’t really know what I was worried about now. I should have known you’d be bringing somebody home.“

“Thanks.. that means a lot.”

When I looked back, Trevor was gone. I heard a squeal from behind me, and when I turned in my lawn chair, I caught sight of Trevor playing wiffle ball with the kids. His shoes and socks were gone, kicked off to the side with a bunch of other tiny pairs. I couldn’t help but giggle at how he played with them. Chirping and smack talking, chasing them down and laughing all the while. That awkward breathy giggle laugh that was so contagious it had me chuckling in my seat.

Trevor and I agreed we weren’t ready for kids, but when we were.. I knew he would be a great dad.

I set my drink down and stood up, walking across the yard. I kicked my own shoes off and slipped my socks away.

“Can I join? Or is the game strictly for kids?” I called, and caught the attention of all the little eyes. As well as the big pair in the midst of all the fun.

“You have to be on the opposite team.” Trevor responded, heaving for air.

“You bat!” The little girl at home plate called. “Trevor throws too fast.” I walked over as she slipped the bat into my hand and ran off to the side, giggling excitedly.

“Are you playing unfair?” I asked accusingly. One didn’t have to be athletic to play wiffle ball. Hand eye coordination was all it took. And I’d been playing this since I was as old as the toddler standing on second base with his older brother.

“Me? No!” Trevor and I both assumed our stances as he responded. “But I’m not taking it easy on you.”

“Same here, Zegras.”

He pitched. I swung. The ball went flying. We weren’t far from the house, and I felt accomplished the second I heard the plastic ball whistle through the air and hit the wood siding of the old home. Trevor took off after it, I thought it funny to prance around the bases. Until I spotted Trevor running full speed ahead at me while I was in between third and home plate. One rule in family wiffle-ball. A rule as old as time. No home runs. If it was possible to get tagged out, you were going to get chased down.

“Trevor, no!” I screamed as laughter immediately fell from my lips. I picked up the speed, as did he.

He reached for me just as my feet touched home plate, one of them getting caught beneath it and managing to fall forward.

Trevor grabbed ahold of me, but he went down too.

I heard my team shouting in victory, and the rest of my family laughing and shouting as well, but I was too busy laughing along with Trevor. Our legs covered in grass stains, as were our elbows. Trevor carefully touched the ball to my side.

“You’re out.” He spoke.

“I am not! I crossed home plate!” I gave him a shove, and soon I felt a pair of tiny knees digging into my back, and a child drape herself right over my side. Another kid joined, and I groaned as he climbed on top of me as well.

“Man pile!” I heard a little boy yell, and I gasped when he jumped on top of Trevor.

Soon there was a whole lot of us laying in the grass and laughing. Trevor tried to push a few kids off, but they only returned. We accepted our fates until parents came by to help us out, pulling their kids aside and giving us some space.

“I definitely scored,” I mumbled as I pulled away from Trevor.

“Did not.” He reached out to brush the grass from my knees, ever the gentleman despite our argument.

“Did so!” I countered, soon feeling the tickle of his fingers against my sides. I broke into a fit of laughter.

“I won, fair and square!” Trevor pulled an old dandelion from the ground around us, shaking it in my face. I grimaced and tried to wipe the fuzzy seeds away.

“Damnit Trevor, quit that.” I groaned softly with a smile.

No wonder he got along with the kids so well.

I finally slipped away from him and stood up, brushing myself off while Trevor made a show of the ‘pain’ in his joints while he stood up. I rolled my eyes at him.

I heard a few kids shouting about s’mores when one of the adults brought the marshmallows out.

“Are we making s’mores too?” When I looked back at Trevor, his eyes were wide with excitement.

“Obviously, T. Though I’m not sure you need any more sugar.” I turned around, hearing him huff and feeling his hand slip into mine as I guided him back toward the fire. Kids were already gathered around the table, and I giggled before I slipped away from Trevor to make my way over.

“You guys have to be careful with all these pointy sticks, okay?” I instructed as I grabbed one of the bags of marshmallows and opened them. “Everyone tell me how many they want.”

It was a hot mess trying to figure out which kid yelled which number, but soon Trevor was at my side, helping me with the little ones.

“Be careful, and don’t run!” I called to the last child as he left to find his mother. I glanced up at Trevor before grabbing a one of the metal skewers.

“We have to send a picture to Jamie. He’ll be so jealous.” I couldn’t help but chuckle at how excited Trevor looked. The way his eyebrows moved with his mouth, and his eyes squinted when he was excited.

“Give me a marshmallow, Zegras.” I chided. He pulled two from his half empty bag and slipped them onto the stick. “I said one.”

“You won’t make one for me?” He pouted.

“Ugh.. god Z, you’re so needy.” I whipped my body around in a sluggish manner, whining playfully over his own pout. Trevor chuckled at me before his arms wrapped around my body.

“I know, I’m the worst.” He mumbled with a giggle. “I’m gonna put the rest of our stuff on a plate, then I’ll come find you.”

“Grab peanut butter cups!”

When he joined the rest of my family around the fire, we found ourselves seated in the grass. Trevor sat next to me while I roasted our marshmallows, the plate of Graham crackers and chocolate in his lap.

The kids quickly began to gather around us, plopping down left and right, mostly around Trevor, but a few with me as well.

“Trevor look what I have!” A kid held out her messy marshmallow. Her face was covered in evidence of the other three she ate before.

“I’m about to have one too.” Trevor giggled. “I’ll tell you guys how it tastes.”

“Oh auntie makes them the best!” Another little boy called. He practically lunged into Trevor’s lap, settling himself in the space where his legs were folded criss-crossed. I giggled at the surprise on Trevor‘s face.

When I looked back at the marshmallows, I realized they were beginning to melt off the skewer.

“Trev! Crackers!”

The kid seated in Trevor’s lap leaned back against his chest while Trevor helped me make the s’mores. I leaned the skewer up against the fire ring after, and we clinked our snacks before I allowed Trevor to take the first bite.

The look of pure bliss on his face was enough to boost my ego for a lifetime.

“Wow.” He spoke through a full mouth.

“That’s why I suggest the peanut butter cups instead of normal chocolate.” I quipped before I took a bite out of my own s’more.

“I want a bite!” The boy reached for Trevor’s snack, and I giggled when my boyfriend pulled it out of the kid’s reach.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’ll make you one.” I stretched an arm out to ruffle his hair. “Kelsey, can you go grab me another marshmallow?” I asked a little girl to my left. She smiled and quickly got up to go find the bag. I leaned into Trevor’s side while I waited.

The little boy in his lap aimlessly played with Trevor’s shoe strings, before looking up at the hockey player with a blank stare. Trevor was busy finishing the last bite of his s’more before he made eye contact with the kid.

“Hunter?” The little boy’s head perked up at the sound of his mother’s voice.

“Gotta go.” He mumbled as he climbed out of Trevor’s lap, with a bit of assistance.

“Bye, Buddy.” Trevor offered him a fist bump before the kid ran off to find his mother.

I stared my lover down with an incredulous smirk. When Trevor looked back at me, his brow rose quickly.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just love how good you are with kids. And my family.”

“Really?” He looked surprised. “God I was afraid they’d hate me.”

I laughed softly, wrapping an arm around his back. “They could never hate you. You’re the first guy I’ve dated who’s actually treated me nice.”

“Oh don’t tell me that.. that makes me sad.” One of his hands came down to rest on my thigh. I brought my free hand to rest on top of his.

“You’d have to kill me or burn my apartment down before they hated you.” I joked, earning a small laugh from him.

“I don’t think I’ll end up doing either of those things.”

“Eh who knows? You might manage to cause a small kitchen fire one day.”

“Hey!” He gently pushed me, and I giggled at his offense.

Our conversation settled into silence before I looked back up at him.

“How many kids do you want?”

“Huh?”

“Kids.. Trev. Do you want kids?”

I watched him contemplate my question.

“A few? Maybe like.. three? I grew up with two siblings. I feel like three kids balances out a house well. Ya know?”

I didn’t quite understand his logic, but if Trevor wanted three kids, I figured I could go along with that.

“What about two and a dog?” I suggested playfully.

“Oh, a dog like Louie?”

“Yeah, we can get a dog like Louie. I was thinking maybe something a little more protective though. A Great Dane?”

“What if it eats our kids?” Trevor’s question caused a quiet fit of laughter to fall from my lips.

“They’re very gentle dogs. Just territorial with strangers and intruders.” I explained.

“Well that’s what we have Jamie for.” Now we were both laughing.

“I’m not having three kids and Jamie.”

Trevor playfully gasped. “I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

“He’ll get over it.” I gently squeezed his hand.

“He’s gotta be the uncle to our kids. He’d better get over it.”

“What about Griffin?”

“Eh. Jamie’s closer.” I rolled my eyes and giggled softly, leaning back into Trevor’s side.

“I’m gonna tell Griffin you said that.” I mocked quietly.

“He’ll get over it.” He responded in time.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[2demondogs]

May i request a Kieran x Reader where they just go on a cute picnic date with Branwhen just grazing the grass in the distance. Maybe somewhere pretty like the fields of little creek river. (Let's ignore the humongous O'driscoll hide out in the middle of it for kierans sake🥲)

This is CUTE you guys serve when u serve me the fluff prompts! Also I want to eat this fucking game's graphics. Imagine a Walmart on this river <3.

Girls, theys, and he/hims heart Kieran's autism swag.

Words: 1.4k Tags: Gender-neutral reader, romantic fluff, established relationship, my usual autistic Kieran

The gray hairs spotting Kieran's face and temples look as white as Branwen's in the afternoon sun hanging over Big Valley. He'd taken his hat off, and the splotchy suntan lain over his pale skin is already turning bright with fresh burns, the freckles faded in the wake of soon to form ones.

Always cold, that man; though he had insisted that this rock was simply the perfect place for a picnic and, since half of it was burning up under the shine, he would let you have the shade. He is a gentleman, of course.

It's mostly sunburn on his cheeks. Kieran never does get both his feet beneath him until its almost time for you two to part ways, and any progress he made towards it today was lost when you moved to sit side-by-side with him, insisting the shade got you chilled. The sun has been hot on your back since, warming you to the bone.

He only let your horses loose to roam an hour ago, and he'd made two trips to his saddlebag for a smoke before bringing the entire carton with him. Pleased, are you, to notice that he always sits right back where he was, knee knocking yours and shoulders a polite inch apart.

The chestnut on Branwen's paint-spatter coat looks almost as warm orange as the carton's printing beneath the sun, now, laying opened and near empty in front of you on the rocky ground of a boulder overlooking Little Creek River. Glittering, the water runs clearer after the rain storms that came last week and washed it fresh. If you asked, Kieran would probably know where it leads out to; the knowledge escapes you, now.

Tobacco shreds have fallen out of half-smoked cigarettes tucked back inside, marring the foil wrapper with smudges of black ash that mark Kieran's fingers as he takes another. Down a short slope, the sound of running water nearly drowns the scratch of the match against the rough pad on the box when he lights it.

He offers it to you, first, with that searching expression as if you might slap his hand away entirely— but he's already offered you three others, so you shake your head. Smoking or eating, both seem to calm Kieran's nerves, and your meals were gone quickly. Only two small pound cakes lay wrapped in cloth atop your own satchel, which serves as makeshift table for whatever needn't touch the ground.

You don't think you've ever heard him talk this much, either. His voice is thick and crackly with smoke, louder as he goes on until he must be confident that you like the conversation and his volume breaks even over the rocks. You aren't sure how long you've been sitting and listening, nor when, exactly, it drifted into sitting and staring at the man beside you. Peppered beard, the lines on his face, how his nose bridge twists downwards and how sparse his brows are, the dark brown of his hair bleached away by the sun.

Maybe he has good reason to get timid when you're alone. If you look anywhere near as lovesick as you feel, you would shy away from it, too.

Kieran talks about nothing in particular, when he gets going like this: what he remembered from childhood, his first horse and that he can't remember his first dog though he knows there was one and it was one of them big ones; where he grew up, stories his mother and father had told him before the cholera took them; living on the streets before his time in the—

"Wait," you interrupt him, straightening up some. "You were in the army?"

Kieran pauses mid-sentence, seeming to forget his story in the treeline far ahead of you. The foggy, anxious look which had fallen over his eyes clears when they fix on you again.

"Yeah," he says, as if it is no big story. It's regular enough, sure, though most of the men in camp never served, but it wasn't something you'd expected from him. "Food and a place to live. Why not?"

Well, that's one way to put it, you think, and you find yourself endeared by how little water these things hold to him.

"How long?" You ask.

He opens his mouth to answer, before his brain catches up to his body and he sinks into himself. "Two weeks," Kieran sighs. "Didn't even fight," — scratching the back of his neck, nodding to where his legs are crossed in front of him as if to demonstrate — "They said I got... neurasthenia, or somethin', 'n' I's too scrawny. Weren't putting on weight good enough." His eye twitches some. "Couldn't read, neither. Hard time writin', too..."

If you let him go on, he'll find a million reasons for why he still can't serve in the military or perhaps even detail his thoughts on the fitness of everyone in camp, and so you interject: "Fuck the army."

Kieran barks a laugh. "Got a mouth on you, don't you?"

And then he's back to talking about nothing in particular, letting one thought trail into another. It's interesting, how fast his mind runs and the off-shooting roads it takes. If you remember correctly, he began divulging the more precise details of his life to you simply because you asked if he had a favorite brand of smokes and he said yes, Pa smoked these, they smell like home.

To you, they've always smelled bitter. Some of the chocolate-y underlayers of the tobacco flavoring grow stronger each pack he breaks open.

Even beyond how pleasing his voice is to you, the familiar pauses and breathy quality when he's talked too long, is the far away look in his eyes, as if he's reliving everything he speaks of. This quality has made him weary and vulnerable, sure; but he seems to like the memories he's sharing now, and you know that in this life it's these things which are more precious than pain.

Kieran will tell anyone how the O'Driscolls treated him, or what happened before he rode with them. When men don't have much love laying around, it takes trust to share it.

Another turn comes about.

"Pa was a mil't'ry man, too," Kieran says. Too, like he's fought as many battles, God, I love him, you think. "'Fore he died, he always said we'd move away, out to California. Find some gold or start a farm, he liked the idea of a farm more, he said," — a pause, a fond little smile as he turns to you and looks past your shoulder — "Said that way we'd have a herd o' horses, so I'd have somethin' to like about it." He rubs his chin, remembers the hair there, looks away again. "Jesus, I oughtta been eight or so."

You smooth your shirt, pull your knees to your chest in a loose hold. "Maybe we'll have a farm out west someday," you say, not really thinking. "Or some kinda horse ranch, where we make money boardin' 'em for folks. All kinds of rich folk who pay for that."

Kieran looks at you with a lopsided grin. "D'you mean that?"

And he looks so hopeful, so very glad that you'd ever suggest you wanted a life together. An ache starts in your chest, tight and hard to swallow. Being part of his stories that he runs off when the quiet is too loud— it's not a bad idea at all.

You nod. "Once we're too old 'n' frail for this life," you say, bite back a smile as you reach to move the back of your hand down his chest. "Or maybe just once I'm too frail, Mister Two Weeks."

Kieran flushes. "Hey, now," he says, but he catches your hand in his before you can pull it back, presses his lips to the knuckles. His beard and mustache are scratchy, lips chapped.

You grin. "S'rry. That was mean, wasn't it?"

"You aren't sorry," he accuses, mirrors your smile.

"Naw," you insist, twist to tuck his hair behind his ear with the hand not rested in his. The fingers never leaving his face, resting under his chin. "You're my big, strong, handsome man. Ain't that right?"

He huffs a laugh, half-humored and half-flustered. "Dunno 'bout two o' those," he says.

You scratch his jaw fondly. "And so smart," you continue, pretending to not hear his objections.

Kieran is caught between basking under the playful, but always meant, praise and shying away from it. "Stop," he drawls, laced with a laugh.

"And oh so sweet."

"Quit," he repeats, but there's a chuckle breaking through his voice and he's tugging at your hand, pulling you closer. Well, you've got to lean closer so you do, and he kisses you on the mouth, as awkward as always, as if he forgets how exactly it works until it's happening once again.

[pabloqavi]

illicit affairs

summary. you and gavi have been dating for five months now but no one knows about your secret relationship until the team catches you ! genre. fluff ! pairing. gavi x reader ! a/n. this is my first short story so please bear with me, i'm also spanish so i'm sorry if there's any mistakes !! ++ wanted to clarify that yes the song is called after the song from taylor swift but there will be no cheating involved

"pablo stop we need to get going soon" you told your boyfriend, trying to push his face away.

"but yn just one more kiss" he pouted while spreading kisses all over your face "need to get enough of them before i go a whole day without them" he said making you giggle before you give in and kiss him

pablo and you have been dating for five months now but no one knew about your relationship since you wanted to keep it private and not have people meddling on it. this obviously included your friends, who were the biggest gossipers known to earth and you wouldn't put it past them to let it slip at any time.

today you were gonna spend a day out with your friends at the beach, taking advantage of the day off the boys had.

"i love you but if we don't start getting ready we are gonna be late again" you told pablo while caressing his face, giving him one last kiss before getting up.

"fine" he kissed your cheek while rushing upstairs to change into his swimsuit. both of you were at your house, which lately had become pablo's as well, to the point he had clothes all over your closet.

one you both got ready you grabbed your car keys and left for the beach. it wasn't a rare occurrence to see you driving pablo everywhere since despite being now 18 he didn't have his license yet.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"gavi, yn we are over here" you hear as soon as you get out of the car. seeing pedri waving you over to the little corner of the beach where all your friends are.

once you dropped your stuff and force pablo to let you apply sunscreen on him so he doesn't get sunburned, you run to the water where all your friends are already playing.

"guys we are getting out" sira tells the boys as you head to the towels. seeing the boys follow you out of the water and take out a ball and start doing passes.

after a few hours playing in the sun, the boys start getting hungry and want to head to a restaurant to eat something.

pedri is the first to head towards where you and the girls are talking trying to find a phone to see what time it was. grabbing the first one he sees he turns it on to see the time.

"oh my god" you suddenly hear him yell while covering his mouth with one hand "when did this happen? since when? what? how?" he starts rambling talking to himself.

"what happened?" ansu asks him with all the boys now coming over.

"gavi and yn are dating" he yells turning the phone so all the guys could see pablo's lockscreen, which was a photo of the both of you kissing. suddenly you feel your cheeks heating up and let out a quiet giggle while all the boys look accusatorially to pablo.

"why didn't we know? how long have you even been dating?" ferran asks

"a little over 5 months" pablo replies sheepishly "and we didn't tell you because we wanted to be private and no offense but you aren't the best secret keepers" you tell them making them all scoff in fake annoyance.

yourusername

favourite place with my favourite person 🤍

pablogavi love you more than anything 🤍

yourusername love you more

pedri I CANT BELIEVE WE DIDNT SEE THIS COMING

yourusername can't lie it's embarrassing

ansufati thinking back they made it too obvious 😭

ilovegavi6 WHAT IS HAPPENING ?#!#!

30gavi6 another parasocial relationship ended😭😭

[delopsia]

Politely requesting Miles Miler thoughts in these trying times

aaaaa I haven't gotten anything for Miles in a minute 🥺 I have a bunch of oddly placed thoughts about the little guy, so I guess this is a *drumroll, please*

Random Miles Miller headcanons + NSFW

He. Sleeps. Everywhere. You leave him in the car to go get something in the store and come out to find him snoozing in the seat. If he lays on you, he'll be out in minutes. On the couch? Gone. Waiting for the waitress to bring your meal? Out like a light. Boring movie? He didn't stand a chance. Standing up? He's mastered it. Lawn chairs are off-limits because he will curl up and wind up with a ridiculous sunburn.

Quiet as all hell. Unless you're watching the door, you truly have no idea if Miles has come home or not. Sometimes, you'll turn around, and he's just there. When did he enter the room? Nobody knows.

Somewhat related, you getting frightened also scares him. Which means that if he accidentally scares you into yelping, then he's likely going to jump and yelp, too. His reaction to horror films is entirely correlated to how you react; if you're quiet, then he will be, too, but the moment you scream, then so will he.

Nothing on this earth will get between Miles and his ice cream; he loves nearly every flavor. Chocolate, vanilla, rocky road, mint chip, cookie dough, cake batter, salted caramel. Pistachio is one of the few things that he'll wrinkle his nose at, but he'll eat it if he's got no other option.

He's shy about it, but he loves it when you let him sit in your lap, his back against your chest while watching television, straddling you as his lips tangle with yours; he adores it all.

You've got to be so careful about when and where you choose to kiss him because anything longer than a few seconds has the little guy mewling into them. He can't help it! There's something so soothing about it that has those soft noises bubbling out of him. Not loud enough to be heard from the next room, but there's a reason why you can't sneak over and kiss him behind the reception desk.

When you ask about it, Miles has no clue what you're talking about because he's never spent money on cologne, but he smells like cinnamon rolls? Warm, fresh out of the oven, just cool enough to not burn your tongue when you take a bite.

It's only after you move in together that you realize he's been using a cinnamon-scented 3-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. You'd bug him about graduating to specialized products, but he always smells so damn good that you can't really complain.

Giggles when you maintain eye contact for so long. He doesn't even realize that he's doing it. One minute, you're gazing into each other's eyes, and the next, his lips are rising with a laugh.

Finger nibbler. His own fingers, yours, he doesn't discriminate; if they're near his mouth, then he's gently nipping at the tips of them.

Let! Him! Snuggle on your chest! Pepper his forehead with kisses while he's there! It's the easiest way to get him giggling, cheeks and ears twinged with pink.

Loves baking but isn't that great at it. He keeps trying, but regardless of the effort involved, there's always something wrong in the end. His pastries might be a little burnt, and you may not like them, but hey, he got his sweet treat, and he's happy about it :)

You're gonna have to get used to Miles mumbling to himself. It's not that he's trying to start a conversation or got too shy to continue on, he's just genuinely talking to himself. Sometimes, he'll be reading a book, and you'll overhear a faint, "Don't do that. Why are you doing that? Stop. Don't do that—oh my god."

Rapidly jumps between flighty, not wanting any trouble, and fierce protector. It's strange to watch.

Most of the time, Miles is very keen on avoiding trouble at any cost, steering clear of a restaurant where you got a rude waiter, backing off the moment someone snaps at him, apologizing the moment someone raises a problem with him.

But then there's a night when you wake to a crash downstairs, and he starts dishing out firm, quiet orders to stay near the phone until he comes back. Eyes narrowed, gun in hand, slinking out of the room like he's hunting prey. It was only a shelf that had fallen, shattering a vase on its way to the floor, but for those few minutes, you were the safest person on this side of the country.

Really does not mind it if you want to do 'girly' stuff with him. Paint his nails, style his hair, put makeup on him. He might complain a little if you try to put him in a skirt or a sundress, but he'll do it if that's what you want.

Probably not much of a headcanon, but Miles is such a good little housekeeper! He knows exactly what to use, how much, and how to maintain it. You haven't cleaned the bathroom in years because Miles has a way of doing it and doesn't like to stray from it. The house is immaculate, and Miles is so proud that he's purring like a kitten.

Stronger than he looks? You're still processing it; Miles is nothing but skin, bone, and a little bit of muscle, there's no reason for him to be able to lift that damn bookcase by himself, but he does it. Somehow.

Miles remembers every little thing you've ever told him. You once pointed at a pair of shoes while at the mall, talking about how you wanted them, but they were out of stock, and the store refused to sell the displays. Six months later, they're your birthday gift. You can ramble about a show he's never seen, and he's genuinely listening, keeping up as if he's watched it with you.

Kisses! French kisses, chaste pecks, butterfly kisses, neck, earlobe, hand, belly, nose, hello kisses, goodbye kisses, he wants to give and receive them all!

It wasn't something he was aware of before you got together, but Miles gets so damn squirmy when you kiss his thighs. Especially when you take the time to suck darkened marks into the sensitive skin there; it's the quickest way to have him leaking against his belly and babbling about how badly he wants you to touch him.

Slightly into voyeurism, but only in spaces, he knows don't get a lot of foot traffic. Ex. You sucking him off while he stands behind the reception desk, where anyone can venture through the front door at any minute. He loves clamping his hands over his mouth to try and muffle his whimpers when you're harshly sucking on his sensitive tip.

Raging praise and degradation kinks. You called him your pretty little slut once, and his knees nearly buckled out from under him.

You wouldn't think it, but Miles is surprisingly noisy in bed. He's always gotta be making some kind of noise, babbling your name, grunting under the effort of working his hips, keening high in his throat, senselessly grumbling when you kiss down his neck. The best ones are when you fuck him hard enough to wring those soft 'uh, uh, uh's out of him.

Speaking of. Pegging? Miles had never heard of it when you first met but now he's obsessed. Riding your strap until he's too sore to keep going, getting bent over the kitchen table in nothing but that cute pink apron, the tender closeness of you fucking him in missionary, where he can wrap his shaking legs around you. If you hit the right spot, he doesn't even need to touch his cock.

If Miles could make a full-time job out of eating you out, then he would. There's just something about the feeling of your thighs clamping around his head, your fingers pulling at his hair while he rolls his tongue over your sensitive clit.

Nearly proposes marriage every time you moan his name. One of these days, it's actually going to make its way out of his mouth.

Below the belt, he's pretty average. His cock is maybe a hair over six and a half inches, noticeably thicker but not enough for you to warrant any extra prep before sex, but there's a curve to him that he's learned to use to his advantage. Positions like missionary and cowgirl are where he stands out the most, dragging just right against all those little spots.

...mayhaps I got carried away

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I forgot about the 1k prompts. I will love you forever (not that I do not already) if you would write something sweet about neurodivergent Ed and Stede caring for each other in that special sweet disabled4disabled way <3 also as usual I love your writing so so so much whether it’s actual fics or just the thoughts you have to share on here :)

yes!!! whohooo! love this prompt with all my heart!

--

“Alright, love, you’ve got your bag?”

“Right here!” Ed took a moment to stretch as they stepped out of the car, swinging his travel backpack up onto his shoulder.

They were across the country on business, and they’d been looking forward to the vacation days they’d get on this trip for months. They’d been to all the aquariums within a few hours’ drive of home - hell, they had annual passes to three of them - so the chance to get to visit a new one was a rare thrill.

“Alright, you’ve got your knee brace…” Stede tilted his head to make sure he could spot the brace poking out under Ed’s shorts, and Ed lifted his leg to make sure he could see it was on and fastened appropriately.

“You’ve got your headphones.” Ed reached out to straighten Stede’s shirt collar, but he just wasn’t able to resist how cute Stede looked, slightly sunburned and with his sunglasses resting adorably on top of his head, and he hauled him in by the shirt for a kiss. “And I’ve got a pack of disposable earplugs if you need ‘em.”

“I shouldn’t, I did call to make sure they’re sensory -friendly,” Stede said brightly, automatically reaching up to make sure he could still feel the noise- canceling headphones around his neck anyway. “Did you put everything in the bag?”

Ed knew Stede wasn’t nagging, he was just making sure - he’d had so many travel nightmares with Mary and the kids thanks to things getting left behind accidentally. He pulled his bag off his shoulder, resting it on the hood of their car so he could reassure both of them they had everything they needed.

“Got water and snacks…” They always carried a few snacks when they went anywhere like this. Ed could get grumpy and irritable when he was hungry, and even calling ahead didn’t always mean they could be sure there would be reliable Kosher options for him. Stede, too, was prone to not noticing he was getting hungry until he already felt like shit, so the trail mix was a lifesaver. “My foldable cane, your earplugs. We’re set!”

“Perfect,” Stede said, taking Ed’s hand and pressing a kiss to his cheek before they headed across the parking lot.

When reading up on this aquarium, they’d read that it wasn’t usually crowded on weekdays (perfect for Stede), but it was big and had a lot of walking, so Stede had bought their tickets online so they could skip standing in line. Ed wasn’t always the best at realizing when his knee pain was getting bad enough he should use the cane, so he knew to expect Stede’s check- ins.

The aquarium was a bit smaller than some of their favorites back home, but being able to see so many animals they’d never seen before made up for it. Stede grabbed a map for them at the information desk, circling the areas the employee had pointed out to them where there were places for Ed to sit or quiet corners if either of them felt overstimulated.

It felt, sometimes, like Ed would never stop falling in love. As they went through the aquarium, reading the informational signs next to the exhibits out to each other and trading cool facts back and forth, he felt like Stede’s joy and enthusiasm was lighting up the whole world.

Ed’s favorite aquarium animals were the sharks. Stede adored the stingray touch pools, but he never got mad when Ed didn’t actually want to put his hands in the water. They got lots of pictures, Ed made Stede laugh by imitating a little penguin waddle in front of the penguin exhibit, and Ed was nearly bouncing with excitement as they got closer to one of the last exhibits at the aquarium: the sea lions. 

Things went a bit south near the end of the aquarium, though.

They’d specifically visited on a weekday morning to skip the crowds, just because crowded aquariums could feel so claustrophobic and that really freaked Stede out. But they caught up with a huge crowd of kids there on a field trip, and Stede ordinarily liked kids, but it was a very slow-moving, loud group, and Ed could practically feel Stede getting more anxious and stressed by the second.

“I’ll be alright in just a moment,” Stede promised him, taking the water bottle Ed passed him after Ed guided him back towards one of the quiet spots marked on their map.

Ed looked back over his shoulder. Not the kids’ fault they were excited, but he could hear the crowd from here. “Wanna call it a day?”

Stede frowned down at his water bottle. “But the sea lions! Want to go without me?”

Truthfully, Ed was a teeny bit disappointed about missing the sea lions. But he could see videos of sea lions any time. He only had one of his Stede, and he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it worrying about Stede feeling anxious and upset back here without him.

“Nah,” he said, taking Stede’s elbow, starting them towards the exit. “You know, I saw a few food trucks outside.”

“That sounds perfect for lunch!” Stede hooked his elbow through Ed’s. “I’m really sorry, love.”

Ed leaned over for a quick kiss. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, babe. I’ll steal your desert.”

Stede snorted. “You will anyway.”

Yeah. Ed absolutely would. He knew that just as surely as he knew Stede would need to go back to the hotel to decompress after lunch, and he’d be able to get Stede to give him a foot massage, and they’d need to take an hour to just hang out and let their brains take a break, Stede playing on his phone and Ed reading his book. Just as surely as he knew they’d be taking care of each other for the rest of their lives, just as he knew either of them would ever have to worry about hiding hurt or discomfort ever again.

[coulsonlives]

Mkay, time for my in-depth review of Zuko's scar in the live action ATLA, because I'm a lil salty.

This is the first shot of Zuko we see, and my first impression is: this isn't the best makeup. The first thing that stands out is the flatness of the scar. It's unrealistic, because burn scars usually heal in a lumpy way, it's called hypertrophy. See the burn scar from the Hound (Sandor Clegane) in GOT:

That lumpiness is super important for making skin appear like it had been burned by fire and healed over! But because it's not really there in Zuko's face, it just looks like he got a bad sunburn:

I understand Zuko doesn't need a super deformed face, or enormous textures in his scar, but we basically have just flat skin right now, and it doesn't sell 'bad scar' at all. The makeup should've been somewhere between those two things.

The second thing is the general inaccuracy of the scar itself. I'm not gonna nitpick how it doesn't go as far down his cheek, or how it's not affecting his left eyelid, but there are some major things I am gonna mention. In the animated show, his left eyebrow was burned away because the fire contacted the skin underneath it, and then went over that, up into his forehead:

Here's a crappy edit I made where the brow is mirrored, you can see how much the scar extends over it.

But in the makeup, it looks like the fire either stopped directly at the underside of his brow, or it did burn his skin under the brow, but the brow grew back somehow. It looks weird. Because the brow is still present, there's less contrast to draw your attention to the scar and subconsciously say 'this isn't normal'.

Here are two other edits I did:

This is what I'm talking about when I say the brow (and height of the scar) drastically changes how Zuko looks. He looks so much closer to the animated version now, but he's still free to emote because his eye isn't affected at all, and his brow could still move normally. It also helps give him that harsher appearance, which people tend to say exists with the ponytail hairdo! But it would also work great with his long hair look, which would soften everything anyways.

(For the second edit, I also tweaked the ear a lil bit.)

When it comes to the colours of the scar, I'm undecided. In the OG show, they probably had to change the colour of his scar so much to indicate there was even a scar in the first place, because it would've been annoying to add tons of line detail for the animators to deal with instead. At the same time, the live-action show could tone it down a lil bit. But it doesn't look bad, per se.

The third observation I have is Zuko's ear. If you look in the animated show picture above, his left ear (your screen right) is smaller than his right ear, because it's scarred over. I don't think it's practical to have that kind of effect in the live-action show, because it would mean even more CGI (they'd literally need to paint out the real ear, and then replace the ear with a digidouble ear). But if you look at the trailer capture, you'll see the scar colour doesn't even extend to his ear at all!

If you open the picture in photoshop, the scar around his eye and cheek has a reddish hue, but the skin on his ear is the same colour as the skin that isn't scarred. This isn't a cherry-picked sample, the hue is the same in each entire area. As soon as you stop sampling the ear and start sampling the cheek, it drops right into the reds/oranges:

I think the ear coming away unscathed might be a little unrealistic too, considering the scene where Zuko is burned by Ozai currently looks like this:

The fire is obviously going around the sides of his face, not just going directly into it and then bouncing away. It's kinda brushing around. With a scene like this I would expect the ear to have some kinda damage. Is it because they toned down the overall scar so much that any apparent damage on the ear would become nonexistent? Maybe. But right now, the scar just looks like a blob on his face, instead of a spot where fire actually flowed around.

And I just wanted to point out something else I've seen, not in the trailer, but in the fandom. Because I'm already tired of seeing it, it's dumb. Basically I was on a forum and I saw someone say 'if you want something like Two Face from Batman, this is the wrong property to ask for that'. I thought it was super unreasonable because nobody is asking for this:

And nobody is having a 'meltdown', like some other dishonest peeps are saying! People are just mildly upset that the actor's skin looks like it's been coloured in with dye, and there's almost zero hypertrophy to actually telegraph the fact that it's definitively a scar.

So those are my thoughts.. The scar is barely serviceable, they kinda dropped the ball imo.

Don't get me wrong, I totally understand the ~hollywood need~ to make things super toned down so you can see actors' glamorous faces or whatever, but some additional scar makeup wouldn't have harmed his ability to emote or anything. They didn't even need to do anything to his eye.. Just fix the overall first impression the scar gives, which would've worked with the stuff I mentioned above. So I'm not sold on 'it's to show the actor's face better' as an acceptable reason. It's an explanation sure, but it's just not good enough to justify the difference to me.

[isalisewrites]

Summer after the traumatic end of the Triwizard Tournament, instead of Harry Potter getting visions of the latest evil plot from the Dark Lord, it is Voldemort who gets visions of The-Boy-Who-Lived’s childhood.

And they’re not pleasant.

---

When Newt accepted to become one of Harry Potter's secret guard as a favor to Albus Dumbledore, he hadn't anticipated being faced with a choice concerning the welfare and safety of a child: obey Albus Dumbledore's orders or stay at Voldemort's side to protect Harry.

Though difficult, the right choice was clear.

------

THREE EXCERPT:

Number Four Privet Drive stood out in the neighborhood.

It boasted of a pristine yard of healthy grass, not a weed in sight, and the house was clean without a speck of dust coating the siding.

Odd sort of muggles.

A young boy, one who could be no older than thirteen, was kneeling on the ground and pruning the undergrowth of one of the hydrangea bushes. He rested on his heels, wiped his brow, and rubbed the back of his neck. Newt frowned, noting the peeling sunburn.

Hang on a minute…

If this was Number Four, then that meant…

“Harry Potter?” said Newt.

The boy’s head popped up. He twisted around, fully on alert, and stiffened at the sight of him. Newt’s heart stopped. A yellowing bruise adorned the boy’s cheek. Newt stepped forward onto the property, taking long strides through the lawn.

“Who’re you?” asked Harry, tensing up. Newt noted the way he glanced down at Newt’s feet before he visibly relaxed. “Sorry for my tone, sir. Are you here to see Uncle Vernon?”

“No, Harry,” said Newt absentmindedly. He knelt beside Harry on the lawn and took a hand to his chin, tilting the boy’s face to the side. Harry tensed. Newt pursed his lips at the discoloring of his cheek. Harry’s eyes stayed locked onto him. “That’s a pretty wicked bruise you’ve got there. Where’d you get it?”

Harry sucked in his breath, surprise flooding his expression. “Oh, uh, I got into a fight with some neighborhood boys—my fault. I’m doing yard work as a punishment.”

Newt frowned.

That didn’t seem like a lie, per se.

But it also wasn’t true.

Now he could see what the Weasley boy had meant. Harry didn’t look like a healthy teenager, not at all. He was thin and lanky, yet didn’t seem to have the height for it. Wasn’t the boy supposed to be turning fifteen soon?

Underdeveloped? That suggests long term malnutrition.

“How d’you know my name?”

“Oh.” Newt blinked. “Pardon me,” he said, holding out a hand. Harry shook it tentatively. “I’m Newt Scamander and Albus sent me to be part of your guard.”

“What?” breathed Harry. “You’re—Newt Scamander? The author? Wait a minute, Dumbledore sent you? A guard—I have a guard?”

“Of course,” said Newt, still keeping an eye on the bruise. It didn’t have the look of a punch. If Newt had to take a guess… it had the spread out look caused by a palm to the face. “I’m a latest addition. Haven’t you met any of them? Has no one said hello to you?”

Harry slowly shook his head. “No. I didn’t know…”

That was… odd. Though Newt didn’t really see Mundungus Fletcher dropping by to greet Harry, but surely Ms. Tonks would’ve dropped by for a hello and a chat. She was a talkative little thing and Newt found himself not as uncomfortable around her as he was of others in the Order.

“Mr. Moody or Ms. Tonk haven’t stopped by for a chat?” asked Newt.

“Moody is part of my guard?” asked Harry, eyes widening. 

Well, that answered that.

Unease swirled inside Newt. Surely, the others had seen Harry outside and surelythey’d have seen his condition. And yet… they didn’t check up on him?

Something wasn’t right.