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itsaash · 1 year ago

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unsatisfyingly satisfying part 2: shivers

Set sometime in the future when our beloved Coops are married and on vacation in Banff :))) prompt and cover art credit to @noots-fic-fests, character credit of Coops to @lumosinlove And shout out to @girlwithcurls96 for helping me and reassuring me about this whole story, and who is the type of friend when you say, "what kind of tattoos should this character have?" comes through with the perfect pinterest board of style inspo to create the OCs of my dreams

“You got the camera baby?” Remus called as he shut the trunk of the white rental car.

“Ouais, et j'ai les collations là.”

Remus smiled as he translated in his head. Being in Banff National Park, or Parc national Banff as Sirius exclusively called it, with signs and boards and everything in French as well as English, had set Sirius into a firmly French state of mind. Remus was absolutely not complaining, the melodic sounds scratched his brain just right, even if he couldn’t replicate them. He just beeped the car, pocketed the keys, patted his pocket to feel his phone, and caught up to Sirius and took his hand as they walked across the parking lot.

It was early in the morning, the gondola would be just starting up. They planned their visits to touristy places for the least busy time of day. A good half hour had been spent signing autographs at the Calgary airport when they arrived a few days ago. Canadians knew their hockey players, especially ones who would certainly be on the next Canadian Olympic hockey team. Neither of them minded , per se, but also if they could blend in, well they’d rather prefer that option.

Typical outdoorsy MEC outfits like every other tourist were their outfits, with a pretty generic blue ball cap for Sirius, and Remus had chosen a fashionable flat brim hat after Sirius had gone silent and staring when Remus had tried it on in the store. While any claim they had to disguise was low, their main hope was that most of the people who rode a gondola on a Thursday morning wouldn’t also be hockey fans. Banff had been great so far, busy streets of tourists to blend into while eating elephant ears, a hike yesterday to lakes the most fucking amazing color of turquoise where everyone nodded their head and said hello as they passed on the trail, and today they were heading up the gondola. It was a warm July day and Remus knew heat would start to gather soon, but it felt so fresh here in the mountains, always a breeze, really it was nearly idyllic. Even here, in a busy parking lot, dozens of cars already and pavement for hundreds of meters, it still somehow felt rustic. That was the influence of the towering rough mountains he supposed. They were everywhere here, he had never been in the mountains like this. He squeezed Sirius’ hand as they walked, his head turning to take it all in.

“The view doesn’t get old, eh,” Sirius laughed as he took in Remus’ wide eyes.

“Literally never. There’s just mountains everywhere .”

“And here we go, up another one,” Sirius said.

“Can’t wait,” Remus said, squeezing Sirius’ hand with excitement again, taking in the grey of Sirius’ eyes and comparing it to the grey of the mountains. The mountains were undeniably majestic, but that blue grey gaze was still his overall first place favourite.

Remus scanned the tickets on his phone for the agent with the usual “bonjour, hello” passed between them and joined the small line of people waiting to board the gondolas. They wound through the roped off area, back and forth across the loading area as the line moved, reading the information placards as they went. Remus challenged himself to read the French versions and asked Sirius for help with some words, just to hear him say them, to see Sirius’ eyes smile when he heard Remus say the words back as best he could. They passed the time in the line quickly like this, passing words in French back and forth to each other quietly, almost like bubbles of love being traded between them, like emotional kisses, like whatever the sounds are that are in my mouth, they always mean I love you.

Remus vaguely knew from the corners of his attention that the people who worked for the Park were working with the line, fitting groups together into gondolas in the most space efficient way, calling for single riders to come join groups of 3, putting two couples together, keeping kids with their parents. There was a large family ahead of them and Sirius and Remus had been half-hearing conversations about snacks and who would sit by who and where’s my water bottle and dad, what if we see a bear ?? So when the attendant called, ‘next group of two? Un groupe de deux?’ looks travelled down the family and passed like dominos to Sirius and Remus.

“On est deux,” Sirius said, knowing everyone who worked for the Park spoke at least some French, and he was loving using it at every opportunity.

“Allez, on y va,” the attendant said, waving them over. Sirius and Remus kept their hands clasped as they snuck past the big family, Remus murmured an, “ope, sorry,” as they made their way to the front of the line. They boarded the open gondola, sitting down on one side together as the doors slid closed and the gondola started moving.

Remus was just starting to look out the floor to ceiling window, seeing the expanse of nature below them, all around them once they were past the loading area of the building, when he heard,

“Sirius Black?? ”

Oh shit. They were on a gondola with a fan. Well, hopefully a fan, god, imagine if it was someone who wanted to lecture them for the whole 8 minute ride. Sirius would give them his stony cold game face, and inevitably the person would back down, but it would be so awkward.

But Sirius hadn’t said anything. He was just staring, mouth slightly open. Time passed in frozen silence, enough time that Remus darted his eyes back and forth, from Sirius’ frozen form, to the two girls sitting across from them. One had a ball cap on with a dark ponytail floating out the back of it and her tank top showed clearly well developed biceps and deltoids, hiking shorts and shoes. She was nearly as slack jawed as Sirius. The other girl was much more fashionable, in pants that were somehow loose but still fitted, and a cropped shirt (sports bra? what did Remus know about women’s fashion), clean white runners, long curly blond hair pulled into a messy half bun. It was still Banff and hiking appropriate except everything about her outfit and hair seemed to be on purpose in a way that none of the rest of them could claim. She seemed to be trying to read the situation as much as Remus was, and after long seconds she was the one to break the silence.

“Rebecca? You know him?”

The other girl, Rebecca? Almost literally shook herself out of her surprise and laughed, a smile coming over her face.

“Oh my god, what are the fucking chances? Yeah, well, I mean, Sirius and I, well, yeah, we’ve met.”

Remus felt his eyebrows raise at her faltering tone and he looked to Sirius who didn’t seem ready to say words of any language yet. So Remus spoke first.

“Oh, well hello. I’m Remus. It’s nice to meet you,” and he put his hand out to Rebecca to shake. She smiled more, her eyes taking him in and she took his hand.

“Hi Remus, I’m Rebecca. Nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend Claire,” she said, gesturing at the well dressed girl. “We’re just touring the area, on vacation, I guess you must be too. It is the offseason I guess? I can’t believe we’re on the same gondola as you, what even is this.”

Remus felt himself relax, girlfriend, ok so they weren’t in for an 8 minute lecture. That was something at least. He turned to Claire and shook her hand too. His eyes travelled up and down her tattooed arms, all thin lines and curling shapes. He especially noticed a beautiful one of a star surrounded by a circle on the inside of her elbow, but the whole thing was made of flowers and vines in light colours.

“Nice to meet you too Claire. Are y’all hockey fans then?” he asked, glancing repeatedly at Sirius, who was still seemingly frozen. He pressed his palm against Sirius’ thigh, hoping to ground him with touch. Feeling more than a little bit like he needed that too.

Claire laughed, a high, bright sound.

“No, I can’t say I am. Is that how you know him, sweetheart?” Claire asked her girlfriend.

“I, um, well yeah, kind of. We met at a media weekend where they were doing stories on a bunch of athletes for a magazine,” Rebecca explained, her gaze bounced between Sirius, Remus, her girlfriend, back to Sirius.

Remus nodded. Well that made sense. What didn’t make sense was that Sirius hadn’t said a single fucking word. He turned toward him, angling his body towards his husband so he could mouth as much as say, ‘ça va, baby?’

Sirius started bobbing his head. Remus saw him take two purposeful breaths, close his eyes for a long moment, and then open them again with his media smile on.

“Désolé, sorry, sorry Rebeccca. You just surprised me,” he took off his hat, ran his hands through his hair and replaced the hat. “Wow, yeah, it’s good to see you. Like you said, what are the chances?”

“What media thing was it that you did?” Remus asked lightly, hoping to soften whatever the fuck this atmosphere was.

“That one in New York that Pots and I went to? During your third season with the team, I think?” Sirius said. He looked deep into Remus’ eyes and took and squeezed his hand. Remus didn’t know why Sirius needed comfort, but he clearly did. So he scooted as close to Sirius as he could on the bench, held his hand, and tried to send comfort like osmosis. It seemed Sirius may have received the offering because he seemed to relax a degree or two.

“Rebecca was on the olympic rugby team that got a medal at that olympics a few years ago,” Sirius supplied, gesturing to her. “Or maybe you still play?”

“Yeah, I do actually!” she replied. “I’m not a starter anymore, but I still have one more Olympics in me. The team has been doing so awesome, it’s been such an sweet ride.”

“Oh wow, that's amazing!” Remus said, meaning it, and hoping to take the conversation in safer territory. “Are you on a break from training right now? Being a tourist for a bit?”

“Yeah! It’s so beautiful out here. And it’s nice to have time to take in the sights. We travel for matches all the time, but it’s never very long in one place. We played a match near here last season, and it was so beautiful I knew I needed to bring Claire back here.” She smiled at her girlfriend and took her hand.

“So you’re a hockey player?” Claire asked Sirius. He smiled a small smile and nodded, maybe started to say more while gripping Remus’ hand, but Claire continued, “that’s nice, but you two obviously slept together, right?” she said, gesturing between Rebecca and Sirius.

Rebecca just laughed, Sirius’ mouth dropped open, and Remus startled like he’d been shocked.

“That’s what this weird vibe is?!” he asked Sirius, half laughing, half horrified. “Oh my god, well, I get it now.”

Sirius dropped his head into both his hands, shaking his head, and then his shoulders were shaking, until his whole body was quivering with laughter.

“Mon dieu, sorry, Rebecca… Re, I’m sorry.” Laughter bubbled out of him. “I don’t know why I locked up, I got thrown back in time there for a minute, in my head. I’m ok now, sorry. Rebecca, it really is good to see you, I just was so surprised.”

Remus just shook his head. He’d be pretty shocked in the same situation too. The air already felt clearer, Sirius’ laughter had dissipated most of the awkwardness.

“So you’re bi too then?” Rebecca asked. “Or pan maybe? I saw you two in the news of course, oh god I didn’t mean to bring that up, I just mean, obviously you’re married now! Congratulations,” she seemed to force herself to stop talking and Remus laughed.

“Yeah, we got married last summer, it was amazing.”

Sirius smiled at him, the smile they always had when they thought about the lake house and their friends and family and the perfect haze of happy memories that surrounded that day. Sirius took a deep breath and turned to Rebecca.

“Yeah! But, um, no. Uh, I’m actually gay. That’s probably why I froze up there for a minute. But if you’re queer too that makes me feel a lot better, I think I panicked for a second that there would be flirting? Sorry, sorry.” he said, looking back and forth between both Rebecca and Claire.

Claire laughed, “Oh there could still be flirting, I’m afraid. You’re just her type in guys. I’m gay too, but my sweetheart here had a later in life bi awakening, much to my benefit.” She got closer and closer to Rebecca’s neck as she said this, and ended with a soft kiss to her jaw. Rebecca smiled a soft smile at her girlfriend, but then turned to Sirius, more serious.

“Wow, so, um, that night must have been hard for you then? I feel like I should apologise. I think I kissed you first that night.”

Sirius shrugged his shoulders like his shirt was too tight, and Remus studied his reaction, taking his hand in both of his now, and drew circles in Sirius’ palm with his thumb. Sirius rubbed the back of his head with his other hand before answering.

“No, please don’t apologise. You couldn’t know, I didn’t know. Well I knew, but I didn’t know . It’s not like you were the only girl I was with. I thought I just had to meet the right girl. And actually you helped with that, because you were so amazing. Beautiful, and fun to be around, and athletic and funny. And it was still… fine.” Rebecca laughed and faked hitting her heart with her fist like a stab. “No, I don’t mean it was bad! It was fine! Shit I keep saying fine… it was…” Sirius trailed off, looking to Remus, clearly now developing an aversion to the word fine.

“Sirius, Sirius, it’s ok. I get it. The comphet comes for us all, doesn’t it?” Rebecca said. She started off half laughing, but her voice was full of authenticity by the end of her sentence.

Remus kept running his thumb over Sirius’ palm in soothing circles, and Claire lifted her arm up to trace the edge of the window, and then put it around Rebecca’s shoulders, hugging her close.

In the moment of silence that followed, the gondola slowly swung to stop. They all looked around, looking down at the magnificent view really for the first time since they got on the thing.

“Huh, they must be stopping it to help someone on or off, I guess,” Remus said. A shiver had come over him as they swung to a stop, but it passed. The others nodded in acknowledgment as they swayed gently.

“You were my last,” Sirius said into the silence. “My last time with … with a woman.” Remus raised his eyebrows at Sirius. “Well, I kissed other girls after that, only in public, but I knew after that night with you that I wanted to be with guys. Even if I didn’t let myself actually do that for a long time yet, at least I knew.” He paused. “Sorry,” he said again.

Rebecca laughed. “Honestly Black, it really is ok, stop apologising. I’m a little surprised, for sure, because for me it was really good. Like, really good. Like I-never-found-a-guy-as-good-again good, despite giving it an honest try. Had to fully just move onto women, good. So I might be questioning my perception of reality a little bit over here, but you don’t have anything to apologise for.”

Remus was processing, hardly believing the turn this gondola ride had taken, but had to smile at that.

“He is pretty good, isn’t he?” Remus said, gazing up at Sirius with mischief in his eyes. “From our very first time, he knew what he was doing. Fuckin knocked my socks off,” Remus laughed. Rebecca joined him and Sirius buried his head in his hands again.

“Right?! His hands –”

“God, tell me about it. And his back?”

“Divine,” Rebecca sighed, tone half teasing and half serious. “And just his size, you know, when he’s on top, fully covering you?”

Remus faked a swoon, back of his hand to his forehead. “It’s amazing. Might be my favourite place in the world to be.” Sirius sat up and smacked Remus’ shoulder. “Re! Stop it,” he laughed.

“Did you get to experience his mouth?” Remus asked, leaning forwards to Rebecca. “Or how his eyes get so intense it’s like they glow?”

“Remus!”

Rebecca sighed dramatically. “I didn’t experience his mouth unfortunately. And I think he must be the only man in history to have turned down a blow job! It was mostly hands and some lovely dirty talk and … well, you know.”

“Oh the French dirty talk,'' Remus fawned, fanning himself with his hand, smiling evilly at Sirius. “It’s so hot.”

Rebecca faked a dramatic gasp. “Is this why you wanted me on my hands and knees??” she asked, gesturing dramatically to Remus. “So you could pretend I was him!?” The words might be accusatory, but the tone was pure glee. “Did you know him then?” she asked Remus.

Sirius moaned into his hands and ground out what might have sounded like kill me now.

“I just knew him as the hockey obsessed, tough as nails, never an emotion to be seen hockey captain back then. And I saw him make out with multiple girls at bars after that, so he clearly wasn’t ready for me yet back then,” Remus teased.

Claire and Rebecca both nodded. “We all have to make our journeys of self discovery in our own time, don’t we,” Claire said.

“That we do,” Remus said, letting the last of his laughter bubble out of him. They all took in a minute of happy silence, admiring the view. Even Sirius cautiously poked an eye out of the safety of his hands and looked past Remus to see towering snow capped mountains which they were almost eye level with up this high, this ground was really quite far away. Deep green trees transitioned into bright green grass in places, the buildings of the town looked like dots from here, and the fluffy white clouds seemed much closer than he had ever experienced before.

The peace of the mountains seemed to sweep into the softly swinging gondola and Rebecca turned back to Sirius, still snuggled into Claire’s side.

“I am sorry though, that society or whatever made you think you had to sleep with me. I’m sorry if I played a part in that,” she said.

Sirius wasn’t frozen like the snow tipped mountains now, he tried to let his words flow like the breeze instead.

“I appreciate that, Rebecca, I do. But I could’ve said no, and I knew that. I went upstairs with you because I thought I should want to, but I was so deep in the shoulds, that in a roundabout way I did want to. And I’m honestly so glad you thought it was good, that’s like all I cared about.” “I never would’ve known you weren’t into it Sirius, really, it was good.” Sirius rolled his head on his neck, looking sheepish but happy.

“It’s not that I didn’t think it was good. It did feel good, you’re amazing. I just was also really busy, in my mind. My thoughts were just going in bad circles with pressure and doing the right thing and what you might tell your friends and what I’d tell my teammates … so of course it was harder for me to just enjoy it. But like I said, you were the last time I did that, so I’m also really thankful for that, and for you. If you couldn’t be the right one, I knew there was no point in trying anymore.” He switched his gaze to Remus and his grin turned dopey, “until this one told me he was gay, and that I’d be worth it.”

Remus squeezed his hand. “You are worth it. Every day.”

“If I may,” Claire said, “it sounds to me like you’re both right. You’re right, my love, to feel a bit weird about learning the guy you slept with doesn’t actually like sleeping with women. But it’s also ok that you still enjoyed it, because you’re always allowed to have your own version of a situation, based solely on your own experience of it. And he was actively trying to have you enjoy it, for different reasons than you thought. There’s no way you could have known his every inner thought.” Rebecca smiled and rested her head on her girlfriend’s shoulder.

“And you Sirius,” she continued, “it could be interpreted as misleading to have gone upstairs with her, but Rebecca and I, as women who love women, know the strength and seeping nature of comphet, as I’m sure you do too, as a man in a traditional masculine field. It gets into your bones and bosses you around and ties your thoughts up in knots. I’m really glad you freed yourself from expectations to let yourself live. I can tell the two of you are really good together,” she smiled.

Remus nodded his head along with her and kept drawing calming circles with his thumb around Sirius’ palm.

“Merci, Claire,” Sirius smiled, “and for what it’s worth, Rebecca, I’m sorry for putting you in that situation.”

“Forgiven, Sirius Black. And thank you for ruining me for other men, so that I could find this goddess,” she leaned up to kiss Claire on the lips, deep and sensual. Sirius thought that looked like a really great idea, and leaned in to Remus.

“Ça va bien, baby?” Remus repeated, their lips close, breathing each other in and out. He had been pressed up against Sirius’ side this whole conversation, clutching his hand. And now they blocked out the mountains, the uncomfortable seat, the shining sun, and only focused in on each other.

“Oui. Je vais bien. Etonné. But … also good. Glad to have you, like always.”

“I’ll never be anywhere else, mon mari,” Remus murmured as he leaned in to kiss Sirius. Lost in their kiss, they didn’t notice that Rebecca and Claire were watching them with soft smiles on their faces, Rebecca’s head still against Claire’s shoulder. Claire twirled her hand around and then threaded her fingers through Rebecca’s ponytail, smiling.

The gondola started moving again, startling Sirius and Remus apart with a smile. They squeezed each other’s hands with a shiver, they both had goosebumps from a brief chill. They all rode the last few minutes how they all had thought their whole ride would go. They pointed out the tallest trees, saw shapes in the clouds, basked in the chance to be so high up and see the world from such a different perspective. Funny how that makes a difference for so many things.

They all saw the loading area approach, and stayed quiet while they slowed to a stop and the doors opened. They filed out into the visitors center. When they rounded the corner and were away from most other people, Rebecca folded herself into Sirius for a hug, squeezing him, her cheek pressed into his chest. He rested the side of his head against her and held her for a long moment.

“Despite the shock, it really was good to see you, Sirius. And super good to get to clear the air with you about our night together. I, selfishly, hope you don’t regret it, but it’s ok if you do. I’m still happy to know you. Maybe you can actually text me back now that there’s no big secret swirling over you, eh?” she swatted him in the stomach at the last, and he dodged with an oof and a laugh.

“Rebecca, honestly, I’m really glad to have run into you like this. Sorry if I was weird. I don’t regret it, how can I, when it was a stop on the path to me finding my husband?”

Rebecca turned and gave Remus a hug too. “Sorry for having your husband before you,” she teased. Remus huffed a laugh, and hugged her back.

“Good to meet you Rebecca. I’ll forgive you, I suppose .” he joked. “Since I’m the one he’s going home with, I can’t complain.”

“Nope, you have absolutely nothing to complain about, I would know,” Rebecca teased as she took Claire’s hand again. “And I have this goddess now anyways. Bye, guys, take care!” she said as they started to turn away down the boardwalk.

“Enjoy your vacation!” Claire said with a wave, and Remus and Sirius waved as well, standing with their arms around each other’s backs. When they were a good way down the boardwalk Sirius turned and collapsed into Remus’ arms. They stood there amidst the beauty of the mountains. Tourists walked past and around them, taking pictures. They stood long enough for clouds to form and reform shapes, until Sirius could huff out a laugh. “What the actual fuck are the chances.”

“Of you stepping into a 6 foot square enclosed space with the last woman you had sex with? Really, really, really low I’d imagine. Even if we changed the odds to include all the women in general who have seen you naked, the number still has to be…” Remus trailed off as Sirius stood up and pushed him away, grumbling and laughing.

“Stop teasing me, mon loup, this was traumatising ,” Sirius pouted.

“Oh baby, I know, I know, come here,” Remus laughed, and gathered Sirius in tight for one more hug. “Let’s look around? And then we can walk down? So we don’t accidentally get trapped with the next least likely person in the fucking world? I can’t quite imagine who that could be at this point, but we’re probably safer on a hiking trail.”

“Let’s get trapped with your college boyfriend, and I’ll make comments about your mouth, tabarnak , that was embarrassing,” Sirius laughed under his breath as he turned to take in the view.

“I was trying to cut the tension!”

“I’ll cut your tension,” Sirius muttered back.

“Can’t wait, baby,” Remus said with a suggestive eyebrow waggle. Sirius rolled his eyes, and then they did enjoy the view, thoroughly. And they took the hiking trail back down the mountain.

#characters by lumosinlove #when you write OCs and then want to be best friends with them #fic-o-ween 2023 #sweater weather #coops #sirius/remus #conversations in confined spaces #did you catch what the shivers were?#PLEASE feel free to message me and correct my french

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tea-moon-ster · 1 year ago

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Fic-O-Ween - Day 1: First Frost

Hello! This is the prologue of a Fantasy Magic Au I’ll be posting for Fic-O-Ween. Have a few witches, a werewolf, huge amounts of love and friendship, animals that think too much and many questions that wait to be answered. Hope you’ll enjoy! Credits to @lumosinlove for characters, @noots-fic-fests for hosting and prompt. Read it on ao3 here.

The first frost brings everyone together, Leo’s grandma used to say. She listened to the earth, just like her grandson listened to the sun. His powers would diminish during the cold season, but it would be fine. He’d prepared stashes of every ingredient he’d need for his potions and spells. Dusty books waited for him on the table, ready for countless nights of study and learning new magic.

On his windowsill, an orange cat watched the frozen grass of the garden with an attentive gaze. He would soon climb on Leo’s legs to keep them both warm. The witch would read his books to him, and while half the village thought he’d gone crazy since he’d found the cat, he could tell that the animal enjoyed nothing more.

Up in the northern forest, a broad lumberjack struggled to chop the hardened wood. From the cabin, an elegant, blonde woman joined him with something hot to drink. Together, they studied the frost on the trees in front of them.

Hidden in the shadow of the dark forest, a fox looked at them just a moment longer, then disappeared.

At the border of the kingdom, a traveler in a dark green cloak breathed in his hands for some warmth. He sent a silent prayer, and his search continued.

As the full moon finally left place to the new day, one last, tired howl echoed in the valley.

The first frost brings change.

#fic o ween 2023 #fic fest #lou's writing #lumosinlove #o'knutzy #fic o ween #fic-o-ween #sweater weather lumosinlove

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givemetherapyimawritingtravesty · 1 year ago

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So I've taken to writing snippets apparently, but I'm counting it as a win because I haven't been writing much lately. Here for the first day of fic-o-ween and in just under the wire we have day 1! Big thanks to @noots-fic-fests for hosting and the adorable headers, as always! I'm already devouring the fics popping up on my dash, I'd been craving some more SW verse content recently.

Anyway,, without further ado, some cubs...

“It’s here!” Finn yelled as he let himself back into the warm apartment after his morning run. His cheeks were bright pink from the chill in the air and his hair was askew as he slipped off his running shoes and wandered into the kitchen for kisses before his shower.

“What’s here?” Logan asked, grumpy this early in the morning but awake and standing far too close to Leo to be polite.

“Christmas!” Finn said excitedly.

“Rouge, non. Ce n’est pas Noël…” Logan groaned, huddling closer to Leo.

Leo hugged Logan close and Leaned in to kiss Finn as he approached. “It isn’t even Halloween yet, why is Christmas here? What does that even mean?”

Finn kisses Leo before he explains his thinking, “It MEANS there’s the first frost on the ground which means snow is soon which means it’s practically Christmas!” He leans down to kiss Logan slow and sweet.

“That’s not how that works, Harz, but good try,” Leo said, passing off Logan into Finn’s arms so he could turn to the stove to start on breakfast. “Take Logan with you, he can help get you warm in the shower and I’ll have this ready by the time you two finish. Sound good?”

“Parfait?” Finn said tentatively, pronunciation a little off but his French was getting better.

“Oui, allez,” Logan grumbled, tugging Finn in the direction of their bedroom and the warm shower that would await them.

#noot fests #fic-o-ween 2023 #sweater weather lumosinlove #the cubs #oknutzy #o'knutzy #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #leo knut #man it feels so good to type those names in the tags i feel like it was all i used to post / write about. the times really do be a changing

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arrowofcarnations · 1 year ago

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Hi loves! To add some (pumpkin) spice to this year’s Fic-O-Ween, one lucky participant will win this fabulous prize—an enamel pin that shares a name with our favorite hockey au!

The fest runs from October 19-31. After the fest is over, a winner will be randomly drawn (must be 18 or older and be comfortable DMing me a mailing address for the prize. You do not have to live in the US!).

All you have to do is create something for at least one day of the fest and tag @noots-fic-fests to be entered. Drawing will take place sometime in November. Happy Fic-O-Ween, y’all! 👻

#fic-o-ween 2023 #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #fic fest

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flowerparrish · 1 year ago

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Fic + Podfic by flowerparrish; inspired by @blackkatmagic's fic Wild Child

Star Wars: Jon Antilles & Cutup

Length: 1k / 8 minutes

Summary:

His Master would be so disappointed--barely a day in the grasp of a Sith, and he wasn't even the man's focus the way Knight Diath was, and still Jon is faltering. Weak.

Written & podded for Pod-O-Ween 2023

#star wars #podfic #fic #jon antilles #clone trooper cutup #inspired by blackkat #pod-o-ween 2023 #yes i'm very late cross posting

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noots-fic-fests · 1 year ago

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Hear ye, hear ye!

We are now 1 month/30 days out from our 4th Annual Fic-O-Ween Fest!! Still plenty of time to write or create for as many of this year's prompts as you'd like.

Keep an eye out for the inspiration cover cards for each prompt, they'll be posted soon!

Reminder: when you make your posts on tumblr, please utilize the specific prompt's card so it's easier for us all to sort which day you've created for! Also remember to please @ this tumblr so your post can be reblogged.

Also also! It's the autumn solstice on Friday so happy Fall!! See you soon!

#oknutzy #sweater weather #coast2coast #lumosinlove #fic-o-ween #hazelnoots #coast to coast #coops #fic fest #fic o ween #fic o ween 2023 #halloween #autumn

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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pairing: incubus!grimmjow jaegerjacquez x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

about: the ravenous desire of your roommate never seems to abate despite the late nights he spends outside of the comfort of your apartment. when he approaches you, the truth comes out. can you fulfill the appetite of an incubus?

contents: nsfw - mdni. cw dark content - dubcon, somnophilia. brief mention of masturbation (f), unprotected penetrative sex (piv), light degradation (slut/slutty), creampie, possessiveness. reader is only partially awake/aware through the fic and assumes she's dreaming.

notes: part of thot-o-ween 2023! yall ever wanted to fuck a cat boy demon before bc i know i have and here he is in all his weirdo glory. what i love about doing this is that it rly forces me out of my element (writing more smut bc historically i haven't enjoyed writing it all that much) and exploring new/darker concepts i haven't always felt like i have the ability to write.

hopefully this is something everyone can enjoy! thank you for reading ♡

Since you signed your lease nine months ago, you’ve always had a standing agreement with your strange roommate Grimmjow.

“If you need anything, just knock on my door and I’ll be there.”

You aren’t sure why you felt compelled to offer your time or support to the man in the first place - perhaps it was your too tender heart taking one roving glance over him and realizing that he simply looked like he needed someone. Eyes like a predator, narrowed and a sharp, angular frame in an oversized t-shirt. You met him through an online post looking for a roommate and desperation, and the end of your relationship, gave you no option but to accept. The situation appeared too fortuitously for you to turn it down.

The past nine months have gone as swimmingly as one could expect living with a stranger would, though.

He comes and goes without much fuss but if you are honest with yourself - you find some of his habits strange. You try not to think too hard about them, after all you’re just his roommate and he owes you no explanation, but there are times where you wonder why he skulks late at night. When he comes home after these late night adventures, you always notice him looking rested the next day and it has never made sense to you. The dark circles under his eyes seem to magically abate and his posture fixes itself, walking tall and strong across the scuffed wooden floors the two of you share.

Aside from this, though - he pays his half of the rent on time, he manages to clean up after himself as well as you can expect, and he asks you no questions about who you are or what you’re doing with your life.

Until tonight, strangely enough.

“What are you gettin’ up to tonight?”

Grimmjow’s voice is a growl more so than anything else, as long as you’ve known him it has been this way, but it sounds different. Lower, perhaps. You tip your head to the side and offer a half smile, shrugging and letting the collar of your oversized t-shirt fall off of your shoulder enough to expose the flesh beneath it.

“Weather’s supposed to be shitty so I’m staying in. Same as usual.”

He hums his answer, stretching his legs to place his feet on the table across from the couch where you both sit. You take a moment to look over him - blue eyes and hair to match. You’ve never asked him if the hair color is natural, assuming the opposite is true, but you have never seen a hint of dark brown or blonde growing out of his head.

In fact, there’s a lot of things you’ve never seen him do but you’ve always just assumed he does them at night while he’s out but you try too hard not to think about it. The two of you have a no questions asked policy, at least silently you’ve agreed to one but you bite further, breaking your own internal code to pry for details.

“How about you?”

Shifting where he sits, he puts his arms up over his head and readjusts his legs, one foot resting on top of the other. You watch his shift in posture, eyes trailing up long legs and admiring the way his bicep bulges with the angle his arm is bent at. It’s strange but you’ve never taken the time to really look at your roommate in all these months but now that you are.

He’s pretty hot.

You look away quickly, hoping you weren’t caught in the act of boundary bouncing, placing your hands in your lap primly and he smirks, settling into the couch behind him with a few wiggles of his shoulders. He takes his turn looking at you, a smile you’re trying to hide and hair still damp after getting out of the shower, and he wonders how you haven’t caught onto him yet. This isn’t the first time he has eyed you with those blazing, partially sunken eyes but you feel the intensity of it this time and tuck your shoulders forward to hide the embarrassment of being seen.

“Might stick around,” he sniffs and wrinkles his nose. “Feelin’ kinda hungry though.”

Instantly, you beam. Perhaps this could be a good way for the two of you to actually get to know each other since you have never really shared a meal with the man outside of shitty pizza on the nights you’ve stayed up late enough to greet him before he leaves and doesn’t return until sunrise.

“I can make us some dinner if you wanna stick around? If not, I get it, it’s not supposed to get super bad out until later.”

What you don’t realize is that the hunger he’s speaking of is something very different than what can be sated by what you’re offering. Despite this, for a brief moment, he considers it and you watch him do so. He licks his bottom lip, pink tongue darting out and takes one of his hands off of the back of his head to rub his thumb in the wet trail left behind by the motion.

“Nah, I gotta do a couple things.”

Heat you’ve never felt before crawls up the back of your neck and you look away again. You’re flustered, the effortless eroticism of whatever just happened making your skin feel itchy, and he chuckles.

What could possibly be so funny?

You think of the question but don’t say it aloud, almost embarrassed at his reaction to you. Did you misread his suggestion? Did you just make the next three months of your lease unbearably awkward?

Grimmjow takes his feet off the table and places them on the ground, leaning forward and your gaze falls on the forward bend of his spine and the way the overgrown hair at the nape of his neck curls slightly.

Why are your eyes so drawn to him today? It feels as though it takes all of your self control just to look away but you manage to, cheeks warm and hairline dappled with sweat. This feeling is strange in a way that you lack the words to explain and you keep your eyes trained on the ground even as he stands up and stretches, his shirt exposing the bottom of his abdomen.

“I’ll take you up on your offer another night, though.”

Flicking your eyes upward, you catch the sliver of tanned skin just above his waistline and another rash of heat crawls across your face. Your mouth is dry and you nod, lifting your face enough to give him an uncertain and forced smile.

“You alright?” Again, you nod. It’s all you can do right now until you have a sip of water or get some air or…something. He smirks and gives you a sidelong glance as he heads toward the door.

“Get some fresh air, it might make you feel better.”

Your face heats further knowing that he can tell what’s happening to you but he makes no other comment. The sound of him slipping on his jacket and boots fills the otherwise quiet apartment and he opens the door hoping he can find something to sate this appetite before he comes home and makes it your problem.

Judging by how you reacted to him tonight, though, you may not be all that upset if he does make it your problem but that’s a boundary to be tested another time.

“Fuck,” you whimper with your lip tucked between your teeth, the squelching of your fingers working in and out of your own sopping cunt filling your bedroom interspersed with whines and moans both from you and the little video on your phone.

The moment Grimm left, the heat became unbearable. You thought about taking your shorts off right on the couch and letting your fingers explore but held yourself back, instead taking a few minutes to walk around, have something to drink, to see if the need started to feel less intense.

After several minutes of intense pacing, you decided to take care of the issue yourself. Sure, it’s perverted and wrong to feel this turned on simply by taking a good hard look at your damn near otherworldly roommate but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him and after this you’ll go back to keeping your distance.

Letting your fingers dip further inside of you, you gasp, mouth forming the first letter of his name. Immediately you freeze, shocked that you’d be so brazen despite the apartment being empty, and you shut your eyes tightly and silently work yourself toward orgasm with someone else’s pleas for more playing through the speaker on your phone.

A little whimper is all you manage, walls clenching around your digits. It isn’t the best you’ve ever had but it isn’t the worst either and it seems like enough for now to help your racing heartbeat calm down to something more manageable. Withdrawing your fingers with a deep breath, filling your lungs completely before emptying them in the same fashion by exhaling, you roll over onto your side, locking and tossing your phone on the bedside table.

What the fuck just happened? What the fuck has this entire evening been?

Chuckling at the absurdity of the past few hours, you reach around blindly for something to wipe your sticky hand on and settle on the t-shirt you discarded earlier. You know you need to get up but you feel pleasantly dazed instead, wiping your fingers and keeping your heavy eyes shut.

Free from embarrassment and far less wound up, you start to doze. The room is cool and the fall storm the news warned you about blows outside, the gentle sound of thunder lulling you into an unexpected but much needed rest.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you hear a knock, knock, knock at your cracked bedroom door.

Eyes fluttering open just enough to see Grimmjow standing in the doorway, you shut and open them just to make sure you’re really seeing what you’re seeing. It’s too dark to make out all of him but your blurry eyes scan his face, noticing his cheeks look almost hollow and the same deep dark circles beneath his eyes before he left tonight look darker and heavier.

“Grimm?” You ask and his response is a low growl, footsteps echoing through your quiet room as he pads toward the edge of your bed. “Are you okay?”

He stalks like a predator across the floor, making methodical and swift footfalls at the foot of your bed. You sit up, forgetting that you fell asleep completely nude, and his pacing stops when his eyes settle on your exposed breasts, your blanket bunched beneath them.

“I’m hungry,” he repeats just as he did earlier and you are too tired to figure out what he means. Giggling, you still haven’t noticed the way he eyes you hungrily, stiffened nipples grabbing his attention and keeping it.

“Couldn’t find anything good to eat while you were out?”

Your words are a jumble, something that would make sense to no one else but the man who has lived with you for 9 months who has figured out your morning sleepy voice and the way it all blurs together. He approaches the edge of your bed and sits down, watching you lay back down and settle against your comforter.

“Nothing sounded good,” he admits, flipping around and crawling on all fours up the bed. You’re so sweet and disarmed, rain pattering on the windowpane while your chest rises and falls and your eyes fight to stay shut. “Definitely not as good as what’s at home.”

You giggle again, eyes closed so you don’t notice the way the distance between the two of you closes further. His body is large but lithe and each movement sends him closer and closer to you until he catches the scent of something familiar.

Arousal.

He grins, feral and large, crawling the extra few inches to fully envelop you. Caging you in with his arms, your eyes open and see his face inches from yours, his bare chest almost pressing against your own.

“What are you doing?”

The question doesn’t seem alerted or concerned, just curious, and sleepy you reaches out to brush your fingers down the defined bicep holding him up. He chuckles and the sound makes the same heat you felt hours ago crawl up your neck and that’s the moment you realize something is different about him. Your hackles raise slightly and you sit up but he pushes you back down gently, hand splayed between your breasts.

“You said I could come to you for anything I needed, right?”

Despite the fact his hand feels so hot it could burn a hole straight through your body, you nod. You offered yourself months ago and he had yet to take advantage of your kindness. Leaning down, he watches your eyes fully open and presses his forehead to yours.

“I need you,” he mutters and your eyes meet his. A storm of blue, a flurry of something you have never seen before. He groans, almost looking pained and you gasp and hold onto his bicep. You can put two and two together, intelligent and alert enough to manage that much, and your hand slides over where his palm rests on your chest.

“Like this?” You ask, sliding his hand from the space between your breasts to cupping one of them and he nearly growls feeling your skin beneath his fingers. His thumb dances over your hardened nipple and you gasp, shivering beneath him.

“Bet you never thought you’d end up with somethin’ like me in your apartment,” he taunts, hand tracing down your body, mapping out your stomach and hips. You don’t think much of his words, lost to the sensation of being touched and the heat incinerating all rational thought inside of you, but one word catches your interest and you repeat it.

“Don’t you mean someone?”

Another chuckle shakes his body, his fingers caressing your thigh. He shakes his head where it’s pressed against yours and you can only watch when he licks his lips again just as he did earlier, the motion making your head spin.

“Nah, I’m a somethin’.”

With this, he wants to stop further questioning and he leans in to kiss you. By this point your mind should be catching up, alert and awake, but you aren’t convinced this isn’t some kind of strange horny dream you managed to conjure up so you kiss him back eagerly. The wet sound of lips smacking together in a frenzy fills the room, tongues sliding against one another and you even yelp when he nips at your lower lip, sucking the fullness of it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” he groans, hand that was tracing across your thighs now pushing them open. He paws at your still slick pussy, a thick finger slipping between your lips with little resistance. He revels in the feeling of your hot arousal, smearing it around your hole and rubbing little circles around your clit rather than on it that make you whimper.

“Grimm,” you pant and he only chuckles, a second digit joining the first in spreading your wetness. The pressure of the two fingers makes your hips buck, desperate for more.

“You've been having fun without me? Sure feels like it.”

Puzzled, you wonder what he means until you realize that he can insert a finger inside of you without any resistance, still worked open from your previous attempts to get yourself off. Walls clenching around the single digit, he groans into your ear. Your warmth feels luxurious, like silk. It’s more than he could have ever hoped for.

“I don’t mind,” he continues massaging your walls with his finger in the way only an expert can. You surely must be dreaming, none of your other partners have ever been this skilled with just their fingers, and you let yourself have this moment. What’s the worst that could happen? “Gettin’ this eager little pussy all ready for me is almost too nice of you.”

The words are filthy and they make you whine, hips bucking against his hand and where it rests over the top of your pelvis. You’re greedy, desperate for more. He could do just about anything to you right now and you know that you’d let him, drooling pussy leaking down his finger.

“You want more? Tired of feelin’ so empty?”

The slow rolls of your hips tell him all he needs to know and he uses his free hand to slip out of the sweatpants he wore into your bedroom, cock already hard and leaving a wet spot on the front of them. He rolls his eyes, tossing them aside as fluidly as he can while still keeping you full of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give you what we both need. Gonna fill this fuckin’ slutty pussy up, give you what you were almost beggin’ me for earlier.”

Ah yes, that. Even dream you can’t escape the embarrassment of his effect on you in the living room but you let the feeling go, instead focusing on how good it feels every time the pad of his finger brushes against the spot deepest inside of you that your own fingers could never reach.

“I want it,” you admit aloud. He smirks, finger withdrawing from you and making you whine. Your body feels as hot as it did hours ago and twice as wound up, clit throbbing from lack of attention. Blood pulses in your ears and you look up, witnessing the way he’s coating his shaft in his own precum with a gasp.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna fill you up just like you need,” he coos, it’s so condescending but you hardly notice, too busy reveling in the way it feels when the fat head of his cock brushes through your folds. You don’t have to think about anything right now and you embrace the feeling, allowing him control.

What he doesn’t mention is that he needs it even more than you do, the maw inside of him demanding that he slip inside of you just like he is now.

He shudders, body tensing as he sheaths himself inside of you in one sharp movement, your breath catching in your throat when his balls slap against your ass. He’s so impossibly deep and despite how wet and opened up you are, your cunt stretches deliciously to accommodate his girth.

Again, this has to be a dream. Nothing in real life could ever feel this good and your toes curl, spread legs shifting to link at the ankles and wrap around his waist. You feel the firmness of his ass against your calves as he grinds into you, the gentleness ending as quickly as it started when he draws his hips back completely and thrusts back inside of you in one swift motion.

Your back arches off of the bed and he drinks in the sight of you, flashes of lightning outside allowing enough light to leak in to give him a good look at everything he has been vying to see. The knot inside of him slowly starts to untangle, his furious pace making your body bounce up the bed and he wonders why he waited this long to just give in.

Perhaps he’s losing his touch after years. He could’ve just snuck in and taken you any evening he wanted to, you wouldn’t be the first he’d done it to given his nearly unquenchable thirst, but he wanted you to want it too. To want him. To give yourself to him.

He chuckles like a wild man, leaning over your body and kissing you again while holding your hips in place to fuck you wildly.

“Takin’ me so well I might have to make you all mine,” he offers and you moan, clenching around him. So you liked that, he takes a note. You like being wanted, you like being taken. He knew it from the moment he saw you but he always loves it when a gut feeling is confirmed. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Lettin’ an incubus use your pussy whenever he wants like a slut, right?”

Your eyes widen at the word. Incubus - you recall reading some asinine online story about a woman who swore she’d been fucked by one years ago but again, this is your weird dream about your abnormally hot roommate so you don’t question it.

“Yeah, I love it Grimm,” you whisper against his mouth, tongue too heavy to say much else. You’ve never felt like this before, body singing and silky walls clinging to his cock, and you’re ready to let yourself start the endless freefall of pleasure, eyes shutting tightly while he grunts above you.

“That’s right, I can feel it. You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?”

Keeping your eyes screwed shut, you only nod and he lets you grind against his pelvis, clit brushing the dusting of blue hair at the base of his cock. It’s soft and silky and it’s just what you need, friction spurring you further into bliss as you cum with a shout, eyes shooting open.

This isn’t a dream, you realize suddenly, feeling Grimm’s cock drilling in and out of you at a breakneck pace. You are in your bed, thunder rolling outside, your phone on the bedside table, your body bouncing with every thrust. Your blue haired roommate hovers just above you, face twisted in pleasure while glancing down at where the two of you are joined, the slick sound of your pussy bringing you to reality.

This is really happening and honestly, you just..let it.

Reaching for Grimmjow, you card your fingers through his hair, and he lets his eyes flutter closed. Your fingers dance through the same short hair at the nape of his neck you were admiring hours earlier and he grunts, hips stilling. Using both hands to hold you in place, he fills your eager cunt full of his creamy release and you moan along with him.

Unceremoniously, he slumps forward and your chests touch. You giggle and kiss his forehead, looking down to see him looking far better than he did when he entered your room. His eyes don’t gleam dangerously anymore and the dark circles seem to have sorted themselves out, his face resting on the top of your breast.

“Hey Grimm?”

He looks up, surprised you’re alert enough to even let that much come out of your mouth.

“Everything you said…”

You don’t have to elaborate further, he’s aware of what you’re asking. Is it true? Did he admit what he really is, what the source of his appetite is?

“Yup.”

You don’t ask for further explanation and he doesn’t plan on giving it, content to let you run your fingers through his hair as the storm rages outside.

#grimmjow x reader #grimmjow jaegerjaquez x reader #kendall writes #thot-o-ween 2023 #monster mash 2023 #cw somnophilia #cw dubcon #cw dark content

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year ago

Text

Little Blue Toes

An Elvis-o-Ween 2023 One-shot

A response to the writing prompt "Fall or Halloween".

Comments, concerns and feedback very much appreciated!

like @be-my-ally I sat down to write this today and it got lengthy and I decided to publish it raw....

This is my first time writing from Elvis' perspective, and my first time delving into the supernatural genre... But I just had no idea how to write this story from any other perspective. I was very inspired by the amazing work @peskybedtime and @shakerattlescroll did a few weeks ago writing from Elvis' pov.

Big thanks to my elvis coven @ellie-24 @vintageshanny @whositmcwhatsit @missmaywemeetagain @arrolyn1114 @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows for their help and support in the fic writing world....

This story is very loosely based on Scotty Moore's history of this show where Elvis reportedly stomped off after four songs and skipped the evening gig.

Summary: It is the summer of 1955, and Elvis and his band are back on a grueling tour schedule. Their first stop out of Memphis is Batesville, AR. The crowd is not kind, the venue is uncomfortable, and so Elvis decides to take off and make his own trouble. Along the way, he comes across a young women who is having an equally bad afternoon, and they find that spending the rest of the day in each other's company might be just the solace they were searching for.

WC: 5.8 K

Warnings: Minors DNI, smut, supernatural elements, coarse language. Typos....

Happy Elvis-o-Ween.......

4 p.m. Saturday August 6, 1955

River Stadium, Batesville, Arkansas

Elvis looked back over his shoulder at where Scotty stood, watching as the wooden platform they were on swayed up and down with the river’s tide. This had to be one of the trickiest venues they’d come upon this summer and the floating stage made it damn near impossible to move around the way Elvis liked to when he sang.

“A goddamn two-bit raft, is what this is, fellas.” Elvis spit to his right as he swore under his breath, and turned back to his mic.

They had only played two songs so far, starting straight away with "That’s Alright Mama” and “Blue Moon of Kentucky” to try and get the crowd’s energy up with. They still had the rest of this afternoon set and another one at 7, but Elvis was already drenched from his head down to his toes in sweat. Quite literally. His socks had soaked up the steady stream of water rolling down his legs, and it made his feet squish into his white leather dress shoes as he shifted from side-to-side to get his bearing. Thank god for this white lace shirt, he could stay cool and look sharp no matter how wet he got.

Not that it mattered how he looked, weren’t a cute girl in sight. Elvis looked out at the crowd of people who had meandered over from the main carnival across the street. Most of them were older, farmers and their wives, and a few families. There was only a handful of young folks in the stands, but he figured, from the shrieks and laughter he could hear, that most of the teenagers were up at the fair. He wished he was up there too, shooting racing ducks or knocking down milk bottles, stead of singing for these frowning old fuddy duddies.

It was a disappointing follow up to their show at the Overton Shell the night before, half of Memphis had shown up after Dewey put out the word on Red, White and Blue. Boy, it had been a great night. Looking down at Dixie’s familiar face in the front row had been reassuring and made him feel at home, filling him up with the confidence he needed to back on tour for two months.

And boy were they kicking out off with a bang. Elvis frowned as he considered what a sad, sorry show this was to begin the tour. He didn’t understand where their fans were. Sam had said their records were selling like hotcakes in Arkansas, and now that the Colonel was getting involved, promotion was supposed to be even better. But the way this audience stared back at him, he’d never know that he was making it as big as Sam or Bob or the Colonel told him he was.

Elvis ran his hand through his wet hair to get it out of his face, and looked over at where their manager, Bob stood, off to the side of the stage trying to smile encouraging. That fat fuck, booking us on this goddamn plank o’ wood in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. Bob’s smile got bigger as Elvis pursed his lips. This whole operation is a fuckin’ disgrace. He couldn’t hear a damn thing once they started playing, the music evaporated out to to the concrete amphitheater across from them and he had no clue if his singing matched anything Bill, Scotty and DJ played. Sighing, he thought maybe it was time for a joke to punch up the crowd. So he hugged his guitar and winked at Bill.

Bill pulled his mic closer. “Hey Elvis, you seen all the pretty little girls in this here town?”

“Why sure, Bill, this town’s got some a sweetest gals this side o the Miss’ippy.”

“Well, this red headed cutie stopped me on my way on stage, grabbed my arm and said, ‘Hiya, stud, how about a bite tonight after the show?"

Elvis mugged for the audience. “Well, whatcha say, Bill?”

“Well, Elvis, I said, I’m busy after the show, honey, but I ain’t doin’ nothin’ now.’ Sos’s I bit her.” Bill followed his punchline with a big grows and a few gnawing sounds.

It was a good joke, it made Elvis laugh out loud every time Bill did it, but the crowd didn’t seem to even register how clever they were. The barge creaked up and down, and Elvis took a deep sigh, announcing out the next song.

“Well, speaking a cute lil gals, this next song, friends, is a hit we just had called Baby, Let's Play House, I hope you like it.”

Elvis closed his eyes, blocking out the dull, blank faces in front of him as he tried to stay balanced, shaking his hips and bopping his left knee up and down to help him keep time with the melody. The stage ebbed up and down, so instead of pacing the front, or doing some of the moves he usually did, Elvis gripped the mic and leaned down to croon the final refrain.

Baby, baby, baby b-b-b-b-b baby, baby baby, baby baby baby, Come back, baby, I wanna play house wit yoooooou

A few little bitty kids started doing a square dance at the front, and he looked up to see one or two teens walking into the stands. But overall, the energy was dead and it was killing his confidence.

“Uh, al right folks, we got many more good songs comin’ up, I jus know ya gonna enjoy our hit ‘I Don't Care (If The Sun Don't Shine).’ Which we’ll play in a hot second. But uh, well, we , uh we, uh - here’s ‘Good Rockin’ Tonight.’”

Elvis really gave it his all and said fuck it to the floating stage, wigging and thrusting his hips up to bolster his diaphragm as he dug deep to find the strength to scream into the powder blue afternoon sky. He opened his eyes, still hardly any movement from the crowd.

“Wouldn’t know a rockin’ tune if it hit them in the face,” he muttered under his breath, and Bill, sensing that the younger man’s mood was turning sour, started another joke.

“Hey Elvis, you know that chick I was talkin’ bout ealier?”

“Uh, yeah Bill? The one ya tried ta et?”

“Yeah, well, you’d a think that a scared her off, but man, these Batesville babies, y’all are fearless, man. Fear-lessss. Why, she begged me to ditch y’all and go home with her right away.”

“Oh man, Bill, whatcha say to that?”

“I said heyyy, baby, the heck are you begging for? You're old enough to ask for it.”

Elvis guffawed loudly, looking out at the audience.

“You’re a good man, Billiam, teachin’ that lil gal some manners.”

The sun was in Elvis’ eyes and he couldn’t see anyone’s face, so he just kept talking, sure of his humor.

“Heck, y’all can send us all ya unmarried womenfolk and we’ll do our best to teach ‘em somethin’. We’re stayin’ at the Wagon Wheel motel, jus down the street. Send any married gals who need a lesson our way too, we ain’t picky.”

A man stood up in the front row.

“Y’all should be ashamed, talkin’ filth like that out here. Ain’t Christian! An it t’aint right!”

The sun started to go down, and now Elvis could see clearly as a few others joined the man to boo them. He looked over at Bob, then back at the band. The guys just shrugged, and Bob yelled out to try and calm the crowd.

“Aw, now, the boy was just joshin, friends, just joshing’ now, so if you’ll -”

“Play in the ‘Jailhouse Now’!”

“Play some Eddy Arnold or Red Foley!”

“Go back to the city and your sinful ways!”

A fire started to pulsate up Elvis’ belly, he clenched his fists in anger and couldn’t control the need to leave, right there and then, before he embarrassed himself in front of these people.

“Aw, nuts to this, Bobbert.” Elvis pulled his guitar strap over his head and pushed the instrument into Bob’s arms. Then he grabbed his white sports jacket and jumped to shore, muttered to himself all the way.

“Goddamn alfalfa farmers. Ain’t ever comin’ back here, boy, you can bet dollars to doughnuts on that I guarantee it.”

His anger kept his feet beating the ground for a while, but the midday sun soon turned to dusk and with it came the cooling effect of space and time. Elvis looked up to find that he had stalked a good ways down the river, and the path he walked along was now all packed red dirt lined with tall prairie grass and trees. Regret settled over him, and he kicked a pebble around wondering how upset Bob was gonna be with him. Or the fellas. He hoped that they knew what was up, that they understood what a shit show this gig was. It wasn’t his fault. He had done the only reasonable thing he could do if a crowd didn’t like him.

After all, it was Bob’s fault for booking them on a floating raft at a stupid hick carnival in the first place. He looked at his watch, it was past 6, and they had a 7 p.m. evening show. Elvis clicked his tongue, wondering if he should go back to the motel or wait and show up back at the stage just before 7. Give Bob a good scare. These thoughts, however, were soon interrupted by a loud call for help from the river. A woman’s yell.

Elvis ran to the river bank and spotted the screaming woman, grasping onto a rock as she tried to stop the current from carrying her downstream. He ran over and grabbed her hand, then grasped under her armpits to pull her out completely. Her white gown was so heavy, with layers and layers of wet crinoline underneath, that it caused him to fall back on the grass underneath her. Elvis lay there for a moment, panting as the girl clung to his chest. Her short brown bob was plastered to her head, and she sputtered water all over him as she caught her breath. On her hands were a pair of long, satin evening gloves that were lined with rhinestones sewn along the ridge. Looking her over, he realized her whole gown was shimmering in the dark with rhinestones.

“Like a twinkling angel sent down just for me.” He whispered, unaware he had said it out loud until the girls lips curled in to a smile, and she pushed herself up.

“Ha, you’re the angel, rescuing me.” She patted his chest. “And now I got you all wet.”

Elvis followed her with his body as she began to sit up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it round her.

“Oh, it ain’t no thang, miss. I like being covering in all your wet. I mean - I uh, well it - uh - it t’aint nothin’ is all. Here, you must be freezing.”

She giggled, as she drew his coat around her shoulders. “Not with you to warm me up.”

“Oh, I can do better than jus an old jacket.” He put his hands at her waist, looking into her eyes as he began to rub her sides up and down. “That ok, honey? Gosh, getting so dark out here, can’t tell if you have brown or green eyes?”

“Hazel.”

“Well, that splits the difference, don’ it.”

“Ha, well, they are hazel, but that’s also my name. Figured we should get acquainted, seein’ as you probably already know my measurements.”

Hazel chuckled as Elvis blushed. “Uh, well, they are some pretty fine measurements, if you don’t mind me sayin’.”

“No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all, in fact, you could hold me all day, I’m just so grateful you came along. Thought I was gonna drown.”

“Yeah, hey, say what were you doing going for a swim at this time of day.”

“Ha, dressed like this? It was not by choice, trust me - um - ?”

“Uh, oh yeah, I’m Elvis, Elvis Presley, pleased to meet you.”

Hazel looked down at where her lap straddling him and shivered. Their bodies were so close, that Elvis could feel the icy chill of her skin press down on him through his pants.

“Should I take you somewhere I can get you out of these clothes and in to someone warm, I mean into somethin’ warm?”

Hazel stood, handing him his jacket, as she stripped down to her sheer, white slip, tossing the soaking dress, crinoline and gloves onto the grassy hill near where they were sitting.

Elvis let out a whistle.

“Huh, I didn’t mean here, but man’o man, you won’t see me complainin’. Best show I been to all day.”

He stood up, wrapping her back in the now semi damp jacket, his fingers lingering at her waist, and then trailing over her cheek as he stared at her pale, white milky skin. It seemed almost iridescent Elvis in the low dusk of twilight.

“You feel a little more dry, but still too cold. Wanna go back to my motel and warm up?”

Hazel nodded, and let him lead the way. Once they got to the dirt path, he told her to jump on his back, explaining he didn’t want her lil feetsies to get all dirty, so Hazel perched over him as she navigated them back to town. It was well past 8 o’clock by the time he was sneaking her into his room, hoping that the others either weren’t back, or didn’t hear them. He looked at the clock and sighed.

“Oh well, guess I missed that show too.”

“What’s that?” Hazel asked, as she made her way past his out stretched arm and into the Wagon Wheel’s bright orange technicolor western-themed room.

“Aw, nothing. Say, you sure I can’t take you to get some clean clothes, or shoes? You from here or jus - ”

Elvis gulped and lost his train of mind as he watched Hazel sashay over to the sink and help herself to his toilette. He could see the outline of her white panties through her slip, and in the mirror, a set of pink nipples peeking through the front. It made him half aroused just watching her as she leant over the sink and used his make-up without asking.

“Trying to get rid of me? Don’t you like the way I look?” Hazel simpered with a pout as she turned to find Elvis mouth gaping open in awe at her. He put his hands on his hips to look cool, but missed them completely, unable to find them because he was so distracted by her beauty. He rested them at the top of his thighs instead, which he told himself also looked very cool. Very suave.

“I, uh, um, uh - I. Course I think you look good, suga.”

He heard his words crack and paused to take a deep breath and deepen his voice. Reminding himself to be the ladykiller he knew he was. This gal was half naked and in his motel room, for chrissakes. Clearly, she dug him.

“I mean, yes, lil girl, you look good. Real good. Just worried bout how it will look like when I drive you home in the morning.” He winked and shifted from side to side, raising his eye brow and working very hard not to smile. Only dweebs smiled. Not studs like him.

“You’re sweet, you know, Elvis?” Hazel grinned up at him, as she walked to his wardrobe, and, to his dismay, started putting on some of his clothes. “Can I borrow this shirt and pants? I love pink lace. Look, we match!”

“Well, yeah, baby, whatever you want, but I mean, uh, those are men’s clothes, and well, ugh, they might smell like my cologne or something. Sure I can’t take you back to your place so you can at least grab something more ladylike?”

“No, honestly. I bet there are a lot of folks running around looking for me, I’d rather avoid the fray, if you know what I mean.”

Elvis walked over, as she hooked his pink striped belt extra tight so that she looked like a hobo, or pirate, the way his pants bunched up around her waist. Her slip was like a chemise, and with his white sports coat, Hazel was like Marlene Dietrich, but instead of a tuxedo, she was wearing his white suit with a pink, lace top. His fingers rubbed her side.

“You ok? Running away from something? Someone?”

Hazel nodded, as his arms circled around her. “You could say that. I’m the Carnival Queen, I was supposed to arrive at the amphitheater down on the river -

“I am well familiar with that floating hunk o junk.”

“Ha, well, I broke up with my fiancee yesterday. See, I decided I don’t wanna get married, I don’t wanna live in this town any more, and he does. He wants a wife, two and a half kids, the whole shebang. Anyway, he asked me to meet him at Stamper’s Bridge before the Carnival ceremony, and, gosh, boy did we get into it, I mean, we really had it out.”

“Did he push you in the river? Cuz if he did, I’m gonna kill him.”

“No. At least I don’t think he meant to, it was all such a blur. But then, he didn’t jump in to help me neither. Now I bet my family and half the town are running round, wondering why I didn’t show up to the crowning ceremony.”

Elvis rubbed her shoulder, sshhhing her. He was conflicted between getting up and punching the wall, and staying there to comfort this sweet, helpless lil girl who fate had placed in his care.

Hazel buried her head in her hands. “Ugh, it is all just so embarrassing. Rather just deal with it tomorrow.”

Elvis picked her up and spoke softly to her as he put her on the bed and began to rub her feet. “Man, your little toesies are so cold, baby, they blue.” He kissed the top of her feet, blowing on them. “Ta warm ‘em up.” Then he rolled clean, silky pink socks over them.

“Reckon these white loafers are too big for you, but at least they match ya outfit. Must be weird, wearing men’s clothing for the first time.”

Hazel smiled as she folded the top of her pink socks down to her ankles. “That’s ok. Suddenly I feel much more confident, like I could rule the world. Or understand math better.”

“Ha! You’re funny, you know that, lil Blue Toesies? These shoes do make me feel like I could conquer the world, though.”

She leaned closer to where he was kneeled between her legs. “You’re a sweet guy, Elvis. Would it be ok - could I - can I stay with you tonight?”

“Sho, honey, you the boss.” Elvis leaned closer to her, nuzzling her forehead with his nose. “Oh baby, why, you’re still cold as ice. Let’s go get you some food, any wheres ‘round here have good chili and hot coffee? That’ll get ya blood flowing ‘gain. Or, I have some other idea - ”

“ Stop! Let’s go to Mac’s Coffee shop, they have the best chili con carne in town.”

“Well, alright lil gal.” He intentionally used his deep, sexy voice as he stood, and his affect made Hazel giggle. “C’mon now, quiet ya cackling and show this hongry boy - I mean man, honnngry man, the way.”

The walk to Mac’s was not far, but Elvis kept his eyes peeled for Bill, Scotty or Bob, because he knew that they would be pissed that he had stormed off stage. Then missed the second show. He could hear Bob’s voice telling him it wasn’t professional behavior. Then he’d tell Bob what time it was, yes sireee, he’d set him straight. He just didn’t want to have that confrontation now. In front of a lady. He squeezed Hazel’s hand tight, and nearly fell off the curb at one point when he was sure he saw Bob from behind as they entered the coffee shop. But he’d been wrong.

Hazel had been correct, Mac’s did have the best chili con carne. The fact that it didn’t have any onions, unless you ordered them as one of your fixins’ sealed the deal for Elvis, and he licked his spoon with his last mouthful, then ordered two chili dogs and an side of fries.

“I’m a growing boy.” He smacked his lips and wiggled his eyes at Hazel’s and squeezing her waist.

The guy on the other side of the counter walked by again and gave them a curious stare, his eyes lingering on Hazel as if he recognized her, but wasn’t sure.

Elvis nodded his head at him. “What’s his deal, he keeps looking over atcha?”

“I guess it’s not every day he see’s a girl with my amazing taste in fashion.”

“You do look good in my clothes.” Elvis smirked. “Look even better out of ‘em.”

“You’re a naughty boy, Elvis Presley.”

Hazel pinched his knee, and their eyes locked in a tender gaze. It felt to Elvis as if they had been lovers for years, not strangers who had just met. She had an open heart, like him, he could tell. And a sense of humor. He almost asked her to marry him then and there. But then he remembered that Bob had told him to stop doing that on tour, it wasn’t professional. So, instead, he had learned other nice stuff he thought made girls happy.

“Gosh ya so pretty. Can’t believe I met such a pretty gal today, this way. Feels bad to call it luck. But that’s how I feel, Baby Blue Toes. Lucky.”

“Aw, I - I bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Only the pretty girls ones I fish outta rivers.”

“Ha! You are funny. You’re a funny boy.” She blushed as he swing his chair around to hit her knees against his. “What do you do, funny boy? Are you a traveling salesman?”

Elvis laughed and stood up momentarily, motioning to his outfit. “What about these clothes says traveling salesman to you, baby doll?” He pulled on his white lace shirt. “I’m a singer, me and my band, well, we were here performing at the Carnival.”

“Ever on the radio?”

Elvis took a long sip of his coffee, eyeing the rest of the coffee shop. It was mostly empty, with another couple at one of the booth’s in the back, and then a Black man drinking coffee over on the side of the counter marked for “Black Folks Only.” Elvis nodded when he looked up from his newspaper, then whispered to Hazel.

“Uh huh. Ever heard ‘That’s Alright Mama’?”

Hazel hit him, and squeaked. “Yes!” The other patrons looked other, and Elvis grinned awkwardly. “It came out last month, didn’t it?”

“Na uh, baby. Why, it’s been spinning on the radio for over a year. Maybe you just ain’t listened at the right time. Better late than never, I s’pose.”

“Sing something for me?”

“Here?”

“Why not? You’re leaving town, you’ll never see any of these people again. Could be the only night we have together. Why not, who cares what anyone thinks?”

Elvis shook his head, his eyes laughing as he jumped up, and walked over to the juke box with a cocksure swagger. Hazel laughed when she heard the opening of that old Mel Torme record, Blue Moon. Elvis leaned against the juke box and called out to her across the restaurant.

“Better get that sweet little butt over here, Hazel, if you wanna hear me sing.”

Hazel looked at the guy behind the register, shrugged apologetically, and then jumped up to join him. Elvis took her hand, massaging it with his own, trying to get rid of the chill that lingered through Hazel’s extremities. Then he put his hand at her waist, and lead her in a small circle, swaying, as he sang along to the tune. Changing the words, of course.

Blue Toes, you saw me standing alone

With out a dream in my heart, without any wet clothes on

Hazel’s laughter was infectious, Elvis wanted to do whatever he had to keep her laughing. Her smile lit up her face, her whole body, and it didn’t matter that she was only wearing a little mascara, with over sized clothes bunched up at her waist. She was the most lovely, ethereal creature he had ever seen. As they walked back to the hotel, he gaped in awe at the way her skin glittered like faery dust in the light of the harvest moon. They talked and talked as Hazel held his hand, leading him around the town square, pointing to the clothing store her family owned, asking him if he liked singing and what he wanted out of life.

Back at the motel, he closed the door softly behind them as a quiet nervousness worked up his back. He looked her in the eyes.

“Everythin’”

“Everything?”

“That’s what I want, I reckon it sounds silly, but I growed up without much. Now, I want everythin’ I ain’t never had. All the cars, jewelry, houses, girls - everythin’”

Hazel nodded. “Makes sense.”

“You?” His face was shy, and he leaned against the door lock, trying to read the situation and his next move.

“I don’t know. I just want to be in the moment. And right now, Elvis Presley.” Hazel put her arms around him, and closed her eyes. It made all the blood rush to his penis to have her lean on him this way, looking so innocent as she answered him in a breathy, low voice. “I just want you.”

He helped her take off his clothes as he carried her to the bed in her slip. “Oh baby, I feel the same way.”

She tasted like chili spice and coffee, and her whole body shivered with a chill. Elvis rubbed her up and down, over her hips, her legs, the sides of her ribs. Then he crawled over her to warm her with his body heat, and his eyes closed as he felt her knee go up between his legs.

“Goddamn.” He muttered, grazing over it delicately at first, then grinding harder.

He cupped her face.

“Are you ok?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Tell me to stop, at anytime, ok, baby? Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want me to.”

Hazel nodded, her mouth hung open and longing animating her eyes. They were like two jewels affixed to the top of a beautiful, pale ivory tower. A tower he wanted to climb. Her skin was still cool, it and soothed the volcano boiling underneath his calm, steady visage.

Her lips twitched apart as his fingers delicately made their under her slip, and he arched his eyebrow in a silent request as he started to work her panties off.

Bill, Scotty and DJ must have just gotten back, because he heard a group go into Scotty’s room and begin pounding the wall before they burst into a fit of drunken giggles.

“Don’t listen ta them, that’s my band. Those jackasses is jus teasin.”

“It’s ok, it’s ok. I know what it’s like to have friends.”

Elvis grinned down into Hazels warm, inviting smile as his lips ghosted over hers. He could feel her lashes mingle with his and it was so perfect, he didn’t want to spoil the moment, he wanted to remember her like this forever. So he took it slow. Pressing into her mouth gradually, stretching out this first contact for as long as he could. Then breathing into her mouth as it cracked apart, and sinking onto her bottom lip to caress over it back and forth, flicking the tip of his tongue inside.

His fingers slipped inside her labia, and looked around until he found her button. It made her moan out, loudly, even though Elvis was still awkwardly fumbling his way around the clitoris, trying to figure out how to touch it in a way that got her to moan out again.

“That ok, honey?”

“Uh huh, just, just a little to the left, softer, softer, oh god!”

He laughed in her neck, satisfied at his machinations, then sat back, spreading her labia so he could watch what he was doing. He spit into his hand, like Bill and Scotty had told him to do, like he had with other girls. The wetter the better, Bill had said, drives women wild the you get that button at the top of their cooch all slippery and fiddle with it.

“How’s that?”

Hazel opened her eyes and looked up at him, her eyes rolling back as he moved his thumb back and forth on the side of her little nub.

“It feels really good. I - I never had anyone touch me, not like this. Never had anyone ask how I liked it, neither. And, well, I never go to third base with someone I just met.”

Elvis kissed her on the check. “S’destiny, honey. I was meant to find you today. Meant to make you feel good.”

Her hand went to his groin, and palmed over the stiff length she found there. She paused at his belt.

“I believe you were. How about you, Elvis, can I make y-y-you feel g-g-g-ood?”

Elvis stilled her hand. “Ya are, honey, ya are. Doin’ this makes me feel good.”

Eyebrows furrowed in concentration, Elvis smiled as he found a spot that made Hazel quiver when he flicked over it, and around it, and back and forth beside it. With a tentative glance, upward, he bent down and parted her lips, kissing her public hair as he affectionately began to lick over where his finger had been. Hazel cried out, arching her back and thrusting further in to his face at the sensation.

Elvis laughed in to her as his hands moved to hold her steady. The succession of breathy moans his tongue elicited was so exciting, he could feel his foreskin roll up against his trousers. Diving between Hazel’s legs was like jumping into a cool creek back in Tupelo on a hot July day. It was sweet and soothing, and he chased the cool taste of summer that he found there, flattening his tongue against her as he worked to figure out how to make her moan out again.

He felt her tremble, and looked up to see her face contort in to a thousands states of pleasure. Watching her come undone and cry out her release as she convulsed around his head sent Elvis over the edge. He felt his own dam burst below where his hips rocked back and forth over the bed spread and shuddered his release into the side of his pants. Heaving, he collapsed into her waist while his hands now moved languidly over her cool belly and the room was still save for the sounds of their shattered breath.

The boys had obviously heard them and clanging against the wall again, crying out Oh Elvis! in high, falsetto voices.

Elvis grimaced as he climbed up the bed to lay next to Hazel and wiped his mouth on his arm before pulling her into him.

“Trust me, I am gonna kill those boys tomorra.”

She rolled on to his chest with her eyes closed and a big, sated smile on her face.

“Aw, they love you, Elvis. They only tease you because they love you.”

‘Huh. Maybe.” He soothed her head, and brought the blanket over them as they settled deeper in to the bed. “Aw honey, still feel kinda chilly. Wish I didn’t have to leave, wish I could stay with you forever, keep you warm. We’re the perfect fit, you know that? Everyone always tells me I run hot, and well, you, you run cold.”

“I know you have to go. Maybe I’ll see you at one of your engagements. I think I’m gonna move to Little Rock, ever go through there?”

Elvis kissed her head and wrapped his arms around her tight. “You better believe it, go through Little Rock every tour. Wanna see you there, right at the front of the stage.”

He squeezed her to him even closer, enjoying the way she rubbed over his lace shirt as they drifted off to sleep talking about nothing and everything.

It was 10 or so the next morning when Elvis awoke to find his bed empty and the clothes she had worn strewn throughout the room. He rubbed his head. “Did she walk home barefoot? In a slip?” He muttered to himself as he changed his clothes and went to pound on the boys motel rooms so they could all go forage for breakfast together.

The men gave him a hard time, rubbing his head and asking how many little girls he had in his room that night. They didn’t mention the performance, as if they had previously agreed to let Bob handle that one.

Elvis shoveled another mouthful of his biscuits and gravy into his mouth as he tried to describe Hazel to them. “You boys don’t understand, she was like an angel sent from heaven just for me. I gotta see her again.”

A waitress went by with a pot of coffee, and Elvis grabbed her wrist, motioning for a refill. As she clucked an “ouch, alright alright” at him, he had an idea and spoke to her with a mouth full of biscuity sausagey gravy.

“Scuze me ma’am, you wouldn’t happen to know the name of the Carnival Queen, would you? Hazel? Hazel sumpin’? Folks own the small department store off tha square ova there?”

The waitress’ face went ashen and she shook her head before stomping away.

“What’s up her butt?”

The older man sitting on the other side of Bill leaned over.

“Y’all must be confused. Hazel Stein was the Carnival Queen last year, and what happened to her was a tragedy. A damn waste of a pretty little girl.”

Elvis’ mouth hung open, and he looked to Bill and Scotty. “Nah, can’t be. I just met her. Hazel, you say, the Carnival Queen?”

“Yup.” The old man nodded. “Fell in to the river and drowned. Why, musta been a year ago yesterday.”

Elvis head spun, and he nearly choked. She had been real, she must have been. He could still smell her scent of summer on his face and hands.

**************************************************************

so this is a one-shot, and I'll just take a stab in the dark at a tag-list. Let me know if you would like to be removed or added to one-shots or holiday/season whatnots and so forths.

@moonchild-daniella @ashtag6887 @artlover8992 @richardslady121 @louisejoy86 @freudianslumber @dkayfixates @kingdomforapony @j-v-9-2 @literally-just-elvis-fics @ab4eva @i-r-i-n-a-a @horror-movieshoes @everythingelvispresley @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @tacozebra051 @notstefaniepresley @lillypink @jessicarcates

#elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis-o-ween #spooky not scary #banditqueenwrites #1955 Elvis #halloween fic #halloween

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kbirbpods · 10 months ago

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Original Work: By Demand by BumblingBeesAndWillowTrees

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), DCU (Comics), Danny Phantom

Relationship: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd, Danny Fenton & Bruce Wayne

Tags: Bruce Wayne is Batman, Ghost King Danny Fenton, Eldritch Danny Fenton, making deals with eledritch horrors, Jason Todd is Red Hood, he's not even in this fic but he's important anyway, justice league - Freeform, the summary is so fucked up, but I swear it's a lot lighter than that, "how to ask your boyfriend's father for permission to marry his son": a guide by danny fenton

Audio Length: 15 minutes, 17 seconds

Summary:

“I want the hand of your child,” the Ghost King said, and the League heard him demand them to mutilate one of their children.

Notes: For the bonus trick "Eldritch" for Pod-O-Ween 2023!

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jason todd #dc crossover #danny phantom crossover #dc podfic #queer batfamily #batfam podfic #jason todd x danny fenton #eldritch #pod o ween #pod-o-ween #podoween #kaje pods

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itsaash · 1 year ago

Text

Pumpkin Spice

@noots-fic-fests thank you for including this prompt so I can take something that happened in my life and turn it into something decidedly better, ha. Enjoy some fluffy, domestic Jily! And I believe sweater weather Harry was born in March? So he'd be 8 months old the next October

Lily had just wanted to make something nice. Sure, sure, the days are long but the years are short. But when you’re in the thick of having a 8 month old people could just fuck right off with that advice. Because the never ending loop of naptime, nursing, introducing solid food, play time, diaper change, and repeat made some days interminably long. And James was an amazing partner and an even better dad, but the season had started up again, and Lily was not in the groove of solo parenting. She was skidding on one wheel on the edge of the groove threatening to fall over at any moment.

When she was nursing Harry, cuddling his warm body close, she’d sometimes scroll on her phone and cooking videos were some of her favourites. She’d be lulled by the perfectly aesthetic backdrops and clean kitchens. The process of turning a group of ingredients into something new and amazing. Her feed knew her well and alternated between plans and ideas for baby food, and delicious looking snacks and drinks. Being October, pumpkin everything saturated the videos. Bread, muffins, cookies, stew, coffees, all featuring pumpkin. She didn’t have much time or energy for more time in the kitchen after the essentials of baby food and basic meals. But maybe a pumpkin spice syrup was achievable?

So after forgetting to get canned pumpkin at the next two grocery store runs, Lily finally remembered and was excited to make something for herself. Harry went down for his afternoon nap, and after stepping carefully to sneak out of his room she went into the kitchen to make the syrup. The can opener, pumpkin, vanilla, and spices were lined up on the counter, and she measured the sugar into the water for a double batch. She stirred the sugar in with her little purple whisk and watched it dissolve. She checked the recipe again, ok, it needed to reduce for a while. She turned down the heat and went to the bathroom.

Then went to move the laundry into the dryer. Shit, that was a pile of clean laundry. The clothes got put away, and she tracked down the new box of trash bags for the garbage in the laundry room that she had emptied the lint trap into. May as well take out the other bathroom garbages while she was at it. Weird, this bathroom smelled bad. She looked around, had a diaper fallen behind the trash can or something? There wasn’t an obvious culprit so Lily finished emptying the bins and brought them all downstairs to the main garbage in the kitchen.

The kitchen was a haze of smoke.

“What in the ever loving pumpkin fuck of goddamn stupid pumpkin fucking shit…”

A string of incomprehensible curses continued as Lily dropped the trash bags and raced to the stove to turn off the burner. The water had long since evaporated and the sugar was beyond burned with her cute little whisk melted sadly to the side of the smoking pot. The smell hit her senses like a freight train as she put on an oven mitt and carried the pot outside and left it on the porch, slamming the door just a bit on the way back in. She turned the hood fan all the way up and went around opening every window she could get her hands on. Thank god it wasn’t too cold outside yet.

Lily hardly knew if she should laugh or cry. It smelled truly awful. How had she not realized that smell was a burning smell? How could she have forgotten this one thing she had wanted to do for herself so quickly? And how had the stupid fucking smoke detector not gone off?? Although now in hindsight, with no major harm done, and the smoke already dissipating, she supposed she was glad to not have a baby awoken from a nap by screeching added to this situation. She walked away from the blaring sound of the hood fan and sunk to the floor under an open window on the other side of the house. Which is where she was when James got home.

“Hey Lils love! I’m home — oh shit wow you’re right there! You scared me,” James said. He came in the door and was startled when he turned to take his shoes off and saw Lily sitting there. He set down his bag and walked over to her and slid his back down the wall. “Why are we sitting on the floor?” he asked softly, nudging her with his shoulder.

Lily waved her hand vaguely at the house, cheek resting on her bent up knees. “I ruined our house with this awful fucking smell. Can’t you smell it?”

“Well, yeah, but you don’t seem to be panicking, so I figured it’s not an emergency.” He scooched even closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and Lily turned to tuck her face into the warmth of his shoulder. “Want to tell me what happened? You ok?”

Lily wasn’t crying, but her voice was thick and she was just so tired.

“I just wanted to make pumpkin spice syrup. But then I got distracted and immediately forgot about it and it’s such a stupid thing to have done and now it smells so bad.” Her breath hitched at the end and she heaved a breath in. “And my little whisk and the pot are totally ruined.”

James just tightened his grip on her shoulders and hugged her close, let her breathe and be still and cry.

“It doesn’t smell that bad,” he said, finally.

“Fuck off, yes it does.”

“Ok, yeah it does.” He took in a theatrical sniff and winced. “That’s what burned sugar smells like? It’s nuclear level.”

“It was even worse 20 minutes ago,” Lily muttered.

“Want to go cuddle on the furthest couch from the kitchen until Harry wakes up?”

Lily laughed but nodded, and then moved to the couch in the theater room, which was quite separate from the rest of the house and had a baby monitor in it. James laid on the couch and Lily cuddled into his side, making herself small. James ran his fingers through her hair over and over.

“You know it’s ok, right Lils? You’re fine, Harry’s fine, the house is fine. It’s ok.”

Lily hummed noncommittally.

“Ok, but can you tell Loops about it? So that I can tell Sirius how bad sugar can smell? Because, honestly, who would’ve thought.”

James smiled to himself when Lily let out a real laugh and reached for her phone. She texted him, a smile quirking on her face.

my house smells like sugar. And not the good kind like in cookies. Like the awful burned kind and it’s truly terrible.

I also need to test my smoke alarms.

These two things may be related.

Not one minute later her phone was ringing. James laughed and kept running his fingers through her hair as she talked to Remus. She told him the story, after reassuring him they were all fine, and her voice lost some of its tightness as they joked over the lengths they’d go to for a PSL and Remus threatening to come smell it for himself while the smell was “fresh”. She, laughing, said fuck off and good bye, hung up and turned to cuddle into James chest even closer. He smelled like the soap from the rink and like himself and when she breathed in deeply she didn’t smell the sugar at all.

“I’m sorry I made our house smell terrible.”

“I literally don’t care, Lils. I’m just sorry it didn’t work out how you wanted it to.”

She let his breathing soothe her as his chest rose up and down under her cheek.

“You can close your eyes if you want, flower. I’ll get Harry when he wakes up and I’ll go out with him and get a grocery store special for dinner.” Lily knew that meant a rotisserie chicken, a truly bizarre combination of the pre-made side dishes, and probably something sweet from the freezer aisle. But it was always perfect. She hugged him tighter and nodded. And she drifted off.

Lily woke later to the sounds of James and Harry coming into the house. James was keeping up a running conversation with Harry, talking to his son like he was much older than his 8 months. Lily stretched under the blanket that James must have laid over her, and the smell hit her nose. She cringed, but tried not to dwell and went to see her boys.

“Mommy’s awake, Harry, look!” Harry babbled happily and Lily took him from James, kissing all over his face.

“Did you two go on an adventure?” she said to Harry in an animated voice.

“We sure did,” James replied, picking up bags and heading to the kitchen. “To the wilds of Target. And we totally scored.”

Lily watched as he pulled groceries from the reusable bags like a magician pulling a never ending scarf from a sleeve. First came the expected rotisserie chicken, a container of spinach and artichoke dip, two options of chips, a pre-made spinach salad, and a few other grocery essentials.

“Wow, good choices, Harry!” Lily cooed. “I’ll be breaking into that dip immediately. Hopefully the terrible smell doesn’t ruin all this good food Daddy got us.”

“The power of spinach and artichoke dip can overcome anything,” James reassured her, and moved to take Harry from her. “Can you open up that bag, Lils?” he asked, pointing to one. Lily raised an eyebrow, but went to the bag and looked in. She paused for a long moment before reaching in and pulling out a wicker basket filled with all sorts of treasures.

“James! What is this?!” she exclaimed as she freed the basket from the bag.

“It’s a boo box!” James said happily. “You’ve been doing such a good job taking care of Harry when I’ve been on roadies, babe. And I love you so much, you do so much for us, so Harry and I wanted to do a little something for you.” He came over and leaned in to press a soft kiss below her ear and Harry pulled her hair happily.

“Thank you so much,” Lily said thickly.

“You're welcome,” James said easily. He turned and settled Harry in his high chair, and got some blueberries and a mini cucumber from one of the bags and washed them to pass to Harry for him to gum.

Lily looked through the basket. There was pumpkin spice syrup, of course there was. She huffed a laugh but was thankful for the easy version of the fall treat. Next she touched the new whisk, red this time, and sent James a small smile still tinged with sadness. There were also smaller bottles of brown sugar cinnamon, apple, and chai syrups. She set those aside and found three of the tubes that have all the ingredients you need for different soups, a foot mask, a lip mask, and finally underneath all of that she pulled out a crew neck sweater. It felt creamy and soft in her hands, with cute fall themed charms all over it. She hugged it to her chest and looked up at James. “James, baby. This is so nice.” James stepped close and took her into his arms, wrapping her in a hug from behind, his chin hooked on top of her head. He reached around her to point at some of the treasures.

“Lots of syrups to try is fun, right? I’m so going to try that apple one in something. And look how funny that lip mask is. Harry laughed so cutely when I held it over my mouth and pretended to talk with it. Let’s see the sweater on, isn’t it so soft?” he rambled.

Lily smiled with her eyes prickling as she pulled the sweater over her head. It was a bit oversized, the sleeves hung perfectly so she could scoop the cuff into her hands and feel the softness. James hugged her again, trailing his hands under the sweater to rub her back and feel the softness of the inside of the sweater.

“I love it James, thank you.”

“Love you, Lilyflower,” James said and leaned down to press a kiss to her lips. Lily turned and pressed a kiss to Harry’s head, thanking him too. He burbled happily back at her with purple fingers and mouth. James pulled out his phone to take a picture when the doorbell rang. He set his phone down on the counter.

“I’ll get it! But I’m so getting a picture of you in that sweater with Harry when I’m back.” He pointed finger guns at her as he walked a few steps backwards towards the front door.

Lily laughed and watched James’ back as he turned around and walked down the hall to open the front door. Her thoughtful, giving husband. The smell of burnt sugar still undeniably hung in the air, but it was fading. Her guilt was fading too, replaced with love for her family.

“Hey! Oh wow no way,” she heard James say from the door.

“Who is it?” she called as she started to put away the soups and syrups into the pantry.

James didn’t answer and she walked back to the side of the kitchen from where she could see the door.

“James? Oh!”

He surprised her, he was right there when she turned the corner, a big box in his hands.

“No one was at the door when I opened it. They must’ve just delivered the box and left.”

“What is it?” Lily asked.

James placed the soft cardboard box on the counter and opened the lid, revealing 6 of the most beautiful cookies Lily had ever seen. They were huge, fluffy and delicious looking. A chocolate chunk on, one that must be red velvet, one that looked like it might be peanut butter, and more that she could only guess at the flavours, but couldn’t wait to taste them and find out.

“Oh my god. They’re beautiful. Who are they from? Did you order these too?”

“Nope, not me, oh here’s the card,” James replied. “Awww, they’re from Loops, see.” He passed the card to Lily.

To Lily

I hope these drown out the burned smell!! Congrats getting through the day without a kitchen fire!

Lily laughed. “That little shit.”

“I’m surprised he went with cookies and not some sort of fire extinguishing blanket,” James laughed.

“Don’t suggest it, or at least 2 will be at our door as fast as he can get them shipped here.”

“Actually, I think that’s kind of genius? I’m going to order one. I’ll send them one too.” He broke off a piece of the chocolate chip cookie and popped it into his mouth as he opened up his phone. “No harm in being prepared.”

Lily could only nod along with that logic, and she reached out and broke an orange cookie apart, and yes, as the taste of pumpkin spice cookie filled her senses, the burned smell finally faded away.

#jily #baby harry #pumpkin spice #cw food #fic-o-ween 2023 #James/Lily #domestic fluff #yes #this is based off me smoking out my kitchen #it smelled bad for days #i did not however get a boo box

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tea-moon-ster · 1 year ago

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Hello! Welcome to the fourth part of the Fantasy Magic Au (that still doesn't have a proper name!)

I think it's time for some québécois sprinkles. So, enter Logan.

Characters credits to @lumosinlove, prompt and hosting credits to @noots-fic-fests. read it on ao3 here.

It was a dark and stormy night.

Except that it was noon. And it was only raining slightly. Leo just read too many books.

But it was still a rainy day, with a strong wind coming from west that brought black clouds onto the Lion Shire. The forest waved and danced in the distance, a black and moaning mountain that did nothing to calm Leo’s nerves.

He had no idea where Roux was. He just knew that he was outside, and that an actual storm was coming that night. Roux never spent too much time outside with rain, and always made a point to come back during his longest wanderings, as if to tell Leo, see, I’m fine, don’t worry.

But Roux wasn’t coming back. And Leo didn’t know what to do.

That day, the cottage had been stormy even before the rain arrived. Leo woke up already tired, on the verge of tears for how little he’d slept that night. And Roux had been restless. For the weather or the birds outside or his own frustrations, growing with each day, Leo didn’t know. Then Leo had tried and failed another potion for Roux, with seaweed in it. Needless to say, it had been a fiasco and Roux had started hissing at it, before running outside and not coming back for hours.

Now.

Leo knew seaweed couldn’t taste good. And he knew that each fail made their cause feel more hopeless, useless, and pointless. It mustn’t have been easy for Roux to keep up with all the recipes, spells and incense baths Leo had put him through -or to trust Leo, still. Even more, the witch could see how disgruntled Roux would turn every time he caught himself behaving more and more like a cat. Truth was, he’d been in that body for months, and he was forgetting how to be anything else. That scared him more than all the failed attempts Leo threw on him.

Still, it had been hours. And he wasn’t coming back.

Leo tried to give him his own space, letting him have his well-owed existential crisis. Then he panicked and, with the excuse to go put a few protection spells on the oldest trees of the forest against the upcoming storm, he looked around for the cat. But nothing. He only gave up when the darkness became too engulfing even for his magic lantern and made his way back to the cottage. He felt silly for thinking that he would’ve found Roux waiting for him on their armchair.

Hours later, the storm was in full force, and Leo a nervous mess. He busied himself with potions, cleaning, cooking soups. He jumped at every small noise against the windows, already picturing a wet, red mass of fur and two big eyes looking up at him just like all those months ago. The memory made the weight on his chest even heavier.

Leo almost dropped the spoon in his hand when he heard knocking on his door.

He didn’t have the time to consider himself silly for thinking it could be Roux -cats don’t knock- as he reached the door in a few, long strides. But it could be a villager who’d found him or needed help. There could be damage caused by the storm, or the forest could be in danger. Instead, he found a man under a dark cloak -a traveler, then- trying to fit under his entrance and repair himself from the heavy rain.

“Yes?”

The stranger nodded from under the soaked cloak and, despite the storm, revealed his face to Leo. The witch didn’t say a word- he certainly didn’t expect to have his breath taken away by a pair of deep, green eyes. The vagabond squinted against the rain.

“Hello, I’m Logan.”

In the distance, a thunder rumbled, and Logan flinched.

“I’m looking for my friend.”

Leo tried not to stare too hard at the stranger in his living room. He was now engulfed in a warm towel, staring at the fire in front of him -or the soup heating on top, Leo couldn’t tell. The brown hair was curling more and more as it dried, and his cheeks were less pale, but he still flinched at every thunder.

When the soup was ready, Logan nodded a quick merci, and ate quickly. “Thank you,” he repeated once his bowl was empty. “Haven’t had a proper meal in days.” Leo filled it again, of course.

Logan emptied the bowl in silence, and Leo studied him as he looked around the room. The décor gave him away: a few cauldrons were stacked in a corner, and his pointy hat was hanged next to the window. Piles of books on the table, maps of the stars and the planets on the walls. The witch shifted on his chair. In this land, witchcraft was widely accepted -protected, even- but he knew that in foreign countries it was a controversial topic. That’s why he was so far from home. But the traveler didn’t seem bothered.

A tentative, kind smile made Leo relax in his chair. Logan was clearly exhausted, but the way he carried himself, the hesitant politeness, the endless nods at every scoop to let Leo know the soup was good, did more to the witch’s nerves than all the remedies he’d tried that day. Logan cleared his throat as he put the bowl down.

“I know the rules of hospitality say to take care of a stranger before asking any questions, but thanks anyway. Haven’t found this kindness in many miles.”

“You must be coming from the Slytherin kingdom, then,” Leo guessed, and Logan nodded. He didn’t look happy about it, but no one ever did. Leo had been at the border a few times, accompanying Kasey during his apprenticeship. It was a strange, cold land. And extremely dangerous, many said. Especially Kasey. He didn’t want Leo to go there on his own.

“Ouais,” Logan continued. “I’ve been travelling for two months now. I come from Krios Kepék, and I’ve crossed the lands of Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. We’re still in Hogwarts now, yes?”

Leo nodded. “That’s a long way you’ve come.” He didn’t mean to push, but wanderers were rare, and Leo had never hosted one. Even if the rules stated that Logan now owed him his story, Leo could see how tired and worn out he was.

I’m looking for my friend.

“Yes,” Logan nodded again, looking down at the carpet. He traced the pattern with a socked foot. “Someone very important to me disappeared six months ago, and I still haven’t found any trace of him.”

“I’m sorry.”

The traveler shrugged. He took his time before continuing. “His name is Finn. He comes from my village, and we’ve been friends since I can remember. He’s in every memory I have, somehow, somewhere. He owns this bookshop with his brother, he loves books. They both do. His brother disappeared a year ago, and Finn was warned, because…well, we don’t exactly know what happened, but it’s said that dark magic was involved. That he upset someone. But Finn didn’t listen- of course he didn’t.” A frown was bothering his face now, green eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

“Was his brother a witch?” Leo asked softly.

“Is,” Logan corrected sharply. Leo bit his lip. Then Logan sighed, shaking his head. “No, no magic in their family. But he’s a writer, and he was doing research about witchcraft when he disappeared. Against the stigma, he said. But he did…he did see a witch, quite regularly. A native, who either visited or hosted him. But they were friends, worked together. No one would curse Alex if they knew him. And same goes for Finn.”

“Finn was trying to find his brother when he disappeared. Some—” he blinked rapidly, glancing down at his hands, “Some say he came too close to the truth. But no one would look too deep into it, not after two villagers vanished in so little time.” The traveler leaned towards the fire. Leo did that too, sometimes. When nothing would warm him, or heat was the only thing he was able to feel. “My…my family, our friends, they all told me to keep my head down. To keep working, worry in silence, stay safe. But after four months, I couldn’t take it anymore.”

A loud thunder, closer than the others, made Logan jump in his chair. Leo watched him close his eyes and inhale deeply. When green eyes slowly opened again, they were more tired than before. Leo didn’t have to look too deep to see the heartbreak in them. The fear, the sorrow. He wondered under how many storms had Logan walked, looking for his friend.

“There’s a guest room you can use for the night,” Leo murmured. And for the next, and the one after tomorrow. “I’ll get it ready for you. You really need some rest.”

Logan gave him another one of his polite nods, but before Leo could get up from his chair, a loud rumble made the windows tremble, and a firm grip stopped him by the wrist. The thunder echoed in the valley after a flash of white light. Logan was now breathing harshly, eyes shut in a deep frown and crouched on his seat, as if to make himself smaller against the storm. Leo immediately sat back down, taking both hands in his, and waiting for the boy to relax. When Logan did, his eyes were rimmed. From exhaustion, for his friend, the storm or being so far from home, Leo could only guess. He passed a reassuring thumb oh the back of a big, calloused hand.

“How about you help me fix the bed?” he asked softly. “And then we drink something hot to relax a bit.”

Logan looked up at him for a second before nodding. He got up with a deep breath, one last glance at the fire. He didn’t look like he would let go of Leo’s hand any time soon.

“Hot chocolate?” he asked hopefully.

Leo laughed quietly. “I have no cocoa in here, I’m sorry. But I have just the thing for you. No poison, I swear.”

Logan laughed too, and Leo decided to take it as his victory for the day. “D’accord. Lead the way.”

Outside the safe warmness of the cottage, the storm was still in full force.

Roux was still not home, and Logan’s friend was still lost.

But, as two pairs of hands flattened the blankets in the low candlelight, it was easier to think that even the darkest, rainiest days would pass.

#fic o ween 2023 #fic fest #lou's writing #o'knutzy #lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #fic o ween #fic-o-ween

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snack-o-ween · 2 years ago

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Between all of the Tricks and Treats, I have 13 entries (and 1 bookmark for the Ghost WIP) for Snack-O-Ween 2022.

Finishing at least one fic and getting it posted was the bare minimum, so in that regard I think this was pretty successful. I started to flirt with the idea of Snack-O-Ween in late July and early August, but I didn't really commit to it until some point in September. Considering that I've started, hit a wall, and left other fics to languish for years without being posted (or posted and left as a perpetual WIP), getting 13 entries done before the 31st of October felt really ambitious.

That being said, I do feel a bit disappointed. My notes for overlap with HP Fear Fest prompts were much longer, and I had at least one more idea for a Treat for that event. I also started but didn't finish another HP Flowers Fest entry, didn't really feel like my Final Destination inspired entry had a satisfying ending, got stuck on several other ideas for Trick entries, and didn't finish my Ghost entry. This doesn't make Snack-O-Ween a failure, but I think it does mean that all of prompts I was aiming for were a bit much in the time frame I gave myself.

Will I do a Snack-O-Ween 2023? Perhaps. I might at least give myself the option to wrap up ideas or works in progress from 2022. (A prompt of 'Unfinished Business'?) I dunno. It's possible that I might also decide to focus on other events a bit more - Flufftober, Kinktober, Pumpkin Spice Fest, Snapetober, or something. I didn't really encounter some of them until October was about to begin, and I'm not very well suited for getting thrown a prompt and creating something within 24 hours for it.

#Snack O Ween #Snack O Ween 2022

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arrowofcarnations · 1 year ago

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Fic-O-Ween 2023 Day 1: First Frost

Happy fest, y’all! Here’s some Harvard-era FinnLo pining to ring in day one. Huge thank-yous to @lumosinlove for the Sweater Weather characters and universe and to @noots-fic-fests for organizing the fest!

Title: Love at First Fright Pairing: Finn O'Hara/Logan Tremblay Rating: G

“Trick or treat!”

Finn smiled at the ghost-witch-robot trio looking up at him and dropped three handfuls of candy into the plastic pumpkin pails they held up expectantly.

“Hey, nice costumes! Happy Halloween!”

The kids barely stood still long enough to say it back before they were taking off in the opposite direction of the frat house, eager to get back to their parents and hit up more treat stops around campus before dark. It was a good day for it; classic autumn in New England, from the crispness in the air to the red, brown and yellow leaves drifting down off the trees to cover the manicured grass in a vibrant seasonal blanket. Even the deep red of Harvard’s brick buildings seemed more beautiful in October, like they were meant to exist in a state of perpetual fall.

Throngs of local kids—and some of their parents—were all decked out in their Halloween best, while Finn and the rest of the OKN guys wore school-branded clothes while taking turns manning the candy-laden folding table outside the house between classes. (Finn wasn’t sure any of them owned a costume they could wear outside in broad daylight.)

He laughed as Percy walked over, refill bag in hand, wearing the exact same gray sweatshirt with a crimson HARVARD across the chest as he was, the same black joggers—almost the same sneakers. “Fashion.”

Percy grinned back at him. “You know it, baby.” He turned the bag upside down, dumping the candy into any bowls that weren’t full and spilling some across the table as he went.

“Yo, you’re getting jolly ranchers all over the ground.”

“You’re a fuckin’ jolly rancher.”

“You’re a fuckin’ kit-kat.”

“You’re a—”

“Shut up, there’s kids,” Will warned, then passed some treats to a tiny ballerina with a kind smile and a compliment for her costume.

“Oh shit, my bad,” Percy said, and Finn snorted as Will cuffed him on the side of the head.

Finn unwrapped a watermelon jolly rancher and popped it into his mouth as he watched students and families pass by. Percy nudged him with an elbow, getting his attention. “Where’s Tremz? Thought you were surgically fused at this point.”

“Fu—” he cut off as Will leveled the captain stare at him. “Heck off. He’s in his medieval history class, he’ll be back soon.”

“Speak of the French-Canadian devil,” Percy shouted as Logan walked up the path to the house, backpack on his shoulders and snapback on his head—backwards, per usual. He looked good in the crimson Harvard Hockey hoodie he was wearing; Finn’s eyes caught the fraying at the cuffs and his stomach swooped as he realized it was his, that Logan must’ve swiped it this morning before heading out.

“Bonjour,” Logan said, oblivious to the state of Finn’s internal organs.

“Bone-joor,” Percy replied before Finn could say it. “Very French of you. And shorts in October. Very Canadian of you.”

“We haven’t even had first frost yet.” Logan looked from Percy to Finn. “How much candy did you let him eat?”

“Too much,” Will answered for him. “Don’t you have class next, Marshy?”

After a complicated handshake with Finn that neared 15 seconds long, Percy grabbed his bag and took off at a slow jog. Finn wasn’t happy that he left, exactly, but he was happy that Logan walked around the table to take his spot right beside him.

“How’s that black plague treatin’ ya?” he asked as Logan slid his backpack off and under the table.

Logan’s eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Better than it’s treating medieval Europeans. But the reading is a little…”

He looked away—embarrassed, maybe, or frustrated. Finn knew he hated that English still tripped him up sometimes, though the amount he’d improved in just a few semesters was damn impressive. Finn kicked his shin lightly. “I got you. Would’ve flunked out last spring if it weren’t for you, so. Bring on the plagues.”

Logan kicked him back and sent him a grateful smile. And just because he couldn’t help it, Finn plucked at the sleeve of his hoodie. “Nice sweatshirt.”

“You left it on my chair,” Logan said, but Finn saw a little bit of color in his cheeks that he was pretty sure the afternoon chill didn’t put there.

It was a shoddy excuse, but so was Finn teasing him about it being “a little tight in the shoulders, Tremz, you gym beast” just so he could put a hand on one of those broad shoulders and squeeze. Logan was warm and so solid even through the layers; his hand lingered just a second too long before he let it fall away.

The next half hour passed quickly as trick-or-treaters came and went. The sun had just started to sink lower in the sky when a girl who couldn’t have been older than five or six walked up to the table, her guardian hanging back a ways. She had a hockey jersey on and was carrying her helmet, probably tired of wearing it around.

She was closing in on Logan, who’d ended up on the opposite end of the long folding table as Finn at some point, when the big animatronic ghoul in front of the porch lurched and let out its tinny scream. The girl jumped, looking terrified, and tears filled her wide brown eyes.

“Oh,” Finn heard Logan say softly; his brow was knitted with concern as he walked quickly out from behind the table and crouched down in front of her. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

The girl didn’t say anything, just turned to look at her adult and then back at Logan. It seemed like she was trying not to run away.

Logan nodded at her jersey. “You play hockey?”

She nodded.

“Me too. All these guys are on my team. What’s your favorite position to play?”

That drew her out of her shell. “Goalie,” she said with a quiet confidence as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“I see. You know what I know about goalies?” The girl shook her head, but clearly looked interested at whatever Logan was about to say. He leaned in like he was telling a secret, then said, “They’re the bravest ones. Also the craziest.”

Finn’s chest warmed at the way she laughed, at how Logan had gotten her from near-tears to happy and chatting in no time at all. He never got to see Logan with little kids; all their siblings were older. It was nice. It was sweet. It was doing things to Finn’s heart that he’d rather not think about.

In the end, the little girl—Harper, she told Logan as he filled her candy pail until it was overflowing, then filled her helmet, too—skipped away in a great mood. Logan was still smiling a little after they’d gone as Finn walked over to him.

“She was cute.”

Logan nodded. “Ouais.”

“You, too.” It was out of his mouth before he could shove it back in. Logan raised an eyebrow at him. “You were cute with her,” he explained—not that that really made it better.

But Logan looked pleased that he’d said so, even as he shrugged. “It’s not hard when they’re adorable. She said she’s a goalie.”

“Oh, so the skeleton thing should’ve been afraid of her.”

Logan laughed. “That’s kind of what I told her.”

Finn wanted to say so much. You’re cute all the time. You should only wear my hoodies. You’ll make a great dad someday. I want to share that someday with you.

Instead, he took Logan’s hat off and ruffled his hair. “Dinner?” he asked. “Burgers? Hog’s Head?”

Logan took his hat back and put it back on, but he wasn’t even pretending to be annoyed. “Ouais, let’s go now before they make us clean up.”

As they snuck off behind the house toward the pub, Finn took a handful of cherry jolly ranchers out of his pocket and put them in Logan’s. Logan laughed, then did the same for Finn with the watermelon ones.

“Happy Halloween, Tremz.”

“Happy Halloween, Harzy.”

#sweater weather lumosinlove #vaincre lumosinlove #coast to coast lumosinlove #breakaway lumosinlove #finnlo #o'knutzy #my fic #ficoween 2023

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itsaash · 1 year ago

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Hamptons Cubs: Midnight

Prompt credit to @noots-fic-fests and character credit to @lumosinlove!

Today we're back to the Hamptons featuring some boys just trying to figure it out

Rated M, 1900 words, Read on ao3, if you prefer

Finn didn’t know what to do with his heart. It was 8 sizes too big and yet felt like it was in a vice. He wanted to pull it out and put it on ice and turn it fucking down .

Logan was in his house. With Leo. Going into Leo’s bedroom with him after an awkward evening of talking about careers and apartments and absolutely not college.

Leo must have made himself dizzy from all the darting around his eyes were doing, between the other two men, who were dancing on conversational thin ice. Finn didn’t blame Leo for yawning and pulling Logan into his bedroom with a kind goodnight. Finn had retreated to his own room and tried to force himself to sleep, hoping it would all make more sense in the morning.

But all Friday Logan had been with Leo in the kitchen like an adorable snarky shadow, and god, they were so cute together. Between frittatas and pasta salad and paninis Finn saw Logan cleaning up behind Leo like he was made for it. He saw Leo laughingly take a steak knife out of Logan’s hand (that he was trying to cut peppers with) and guide him to the sink full of dishes instead, with a kiss to the curve of his neck that forced himself to walk away from watching.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday passed with Finn trying to work, trying to not see the extra love that was cooked into their meals with the presence of Logan being around Leo. His parents loved having someone new there and at any meal they ate all together it was easy enough to stay polite but quiet. To only see the love shimmering between Leo and Logan out of the corner of his eyes because to look at it full on felt like it would burn his retinas like the sun.

Logan and Leo .

On Sunday after a dinner of grilled local sausages, a green salad from the garden, and smashed potatoes, Finn grew the courage to offer to help with dishes. Missing the time he usually had with Leo felt like a gaping opening in his heart and so he shuffled into the kitchen and settled in at the sink, aiming for casual.

“Oh hey Finn, thanks sugar. You might want to leave that pan soaking for a bit yet, the meat got nice and stuck on there.”

“Sounds good Leo, happy to help,” Finn said, holding his hands under the running water for just a breath.

“Busy weekend? Seems like you had a lot of work to do,” Leo asked.

“Hmm? Oh, oh, yeah. I didn’t get done what I wanted to this week, so I was trying to catch up. I got put on a new book recently. It’s a really great project, but I’ve just kind of … stuck on it lately, for some reason.”

Reasons including: it’s hard to focus on editing when his mind wasn’t sure what year it was, was time travelling every time he looked up and saw Logan.

Leo nodded in understanding as he finished bringing the dirty dishes to the sink. He put away the leftovers in silence as they worked together for a while. Finn took a deep breath as he scrubbed the extra dirty pan.

“I’m guessing Logan told you all about how he saved me in that history class, huh?”

Leo propped a hip against the counter near Finn, relaxed with his arms crossed. “Well he was actually pretty sure you saved him, so I guess it sounds like you helped each other.”

Finn dropped the sponge and turned to Leo, his breath heaving.

“I’m sorry,” Finn blurted out.

Leo cocked his head to the side, eyes soft. “For what?”

“That I kissed your boyfriend,” Finn said in a rush, making it sound like all one word.

“Oh sugar, Finn, don’t apologise. It’s ok. It was ages ago, I didn’t even know him then.” He picked up a towel and started drying the cookware Finn had washed before continuing. “I’m actually really glad you had each other. It makes me happy to think about the two of you studying, helping each other out.”

Finn managed a half smile at the thought of his and Logan’s study session.

“Is it ok that we’re here, Finn? If it’s weird, it’s totally fine. We can head home for the week. You’ve been … quiet …. this weekend and we really aren’t trying to mess up your week.” Leo hesitated. “Not to get in the middle of it, but Logan did mention you might feel like he ghosted you. Or that maybe you feel some anger towards him?”

“No, no! Did he say that?” Finn ran both hands through his hair, getting it wet, and took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I don’t remember it that way. Please, stay. I was surprised, like shock and awe , like get me a fainting couch type surprised. And I think it made me seize up a bit. But I see the two of you are really happy, it’s so sweet. Please, stay. Have a fun week out of the city.” Finn turned and finished cleaning the last dish and dried his hands.

Leo smiled, towel moving slowly over the dish in his hand. “Thanks Finn. That means a lot to me.”

Finn nodded and turned, meaning to head upstairs. That was about as much of confronting this weirdness that he could handle for today. Logan might be back in from his conversation with his parents at any time.

“And Finn?” Leo called. He turned back, leaning against the wall, hip popped out, listening. “Don’t avoid us, okay? If you don’t want to? I promise there’s no hard feelings on our end.” Finn just gave a small smile and nod, but the worried look lifted, just a bit, before he turned to go upstairs.

~~~~~

Logan had been helping Leo and between frittatas and his pasta salad and peach pie they had been busy all weekend. Logan was so impressed by his boyfriend, was soaking up every moment of watching Leo in his element, and with a backdrop worthy of a postcard too. Leo had even let Logan peel the peaches and mix the salad, although mostly Logan cleaned and organised and prepared while Leo cooked.

But, Finn. Logan didn’t know what to think. The shock had faded somewhat in the past two days of helping Leo with meals. It was a busy gig, an easy distraction. But then he’d glance out the window and catch a glimpse of Finn’s red hair out the window, amidst the beautiful garden and sprawling lawn. And his heart would stutter and he’d forget where he was for a moment. He’d think of books and candles and highlighters until he looked at Leo. Then reality would spin itself around him again and he’d kiss his boyfriend on the cheek as he walked to the fridge to put something away and tried to live in the present.

Sunday night they sat outside to watch the sunset, it wasn’t fully dark until nearly 10, and they sipped their drinks and watched the colour fade from the garden and flowers and trees as colours bloomed across the sky instead. And then those faded too, and the stars started sparkling out of nothingness. They sat in loungers beside each other, gaze shifting from the horizon to the sky. Leo’s hand was still warm in his with blankets over both of them.

Logan turned his head from the stars to Leo, just as awed by the sight of his love, even in the dim light.

“So are we staying the week still?”

Leo hummed. “Yeah, Finn said he wants us to. You ok with it? It’s ok if you’re not.”

Logan took a moment to trace his eyes over Leo’s cupid bow as he collected his thoughts. “I still want to. It’s beautiful here, and I have some guilt about how I treated Finn, but really I have nothing but good memories of him.”

“Yeah? You ready to talk more about it?”

Logan took in the stars. Orion’s Belt, the Big Dipper, the sparkling dots that could tell any story, told them all. When he had gathered his thoughts from the spaces between the stars, he went on.

“It was just a few months. But it’s burned into my mind like when you close your eyes after looking at something too bright. Finn is … bright.”

Leo chuckled and nodded at that, Logan squeezed his hand three times.

“Really, we pretty much just studied. We were in the zone, essay writing and memorising,” Logan continued. “Then we went to a party, and we kissed.” He set his head back against the lounge chair. “And Le, it was such a good kiss. It was a long, beautiful, hot kiss.” Logan sighed. “And I think I said something like I’m not gay ? And then the semester was pretty much over, and I was scared, and I didn’t call for months. And when I did, his number had changed.”

Leo reached over and took Logan’s hand in both of his, running his thumb in circles.

“And I kissed boys after that, and slept with girls, and never felt a hint of the spark I had with him.” He turned his head towards Leo. “Until I met you, of course.” Logan turned onto his side and ran his fingertips down Leo’s cheek. “Remember? We talked, and ate, and when you kissed me, there were the sparks of sunshine filling every part of me.”

Leo smiled, and gripped his hand tighter. “I’m glad you had each other, love. That sounds lovely, and kind of really sad.”

Logan smiled a half smile. “I love you so much. Leo, you are the light of my life. I kissed Finn, one evening, years ago. Today, I’m with you and I want you .”

Leo smiled and they leaned across the small space between chairs to press their lips together.

“You want to stay?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, I do. Let’s have our little vacation, let’s relax, and eat, enjoy the scenery,” he said, waving a hand vaguely around at the dark.

Leo’s watch beeped, midnight.

They sat in the deep quiet for a minute, hands connected between the chairs.

“You told me once your first kiss with a guy had been in college. Was that Finn then?” Leo asked softly into the darkness.

“Oui, soleil, it was.” He made the move to forgo his chair in favour of joining Leo in his. He climbed on top of Leo, pressing them chest to chest. “You were my first everything else, though.”

He leaned down and pressed their lips together and Leo tilted his head up into the kiss.

“I tried with other people in college, but it was never right, never felt good, until it was you,” Logan peppered Leo’s face with kisses. The darkness hugged them as they kissed, making them feel like the only people in the world.

Logan pressed a deep kiss down to Leo's lips, leaving him breathless. Then he stood, one leg on either side of the chair, and pulled Leo’s body down the lounge chair until his hips were near the edge. His long legs sprawled off the end onto the soft grass. Logan backed up and dropped to his knees under the midnight bright stars. The grass was only darkness, but was soft under his knees, cool in contrast to the hard heat that was soon filling his mouth.

“I love this, I never get to make you come on Sundays,” Logan murmured against his skin.

Leo huffed a laugh, arching his back involuntarily. “I think it is Monday by now, baby, ahhh.”

Logan just hummed and swallowed in response.

Leo could hardly see Logan through the darkness, but the stars twinkling in the sky kept him company when stars sparked and exploded behind his eyes.

#o'knutzy #characters by lumosinlove #coast to coast #fic-o-ween 2023 #hamptons AU #midnight

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itsaash · 1 year ago

Text

Hamptons Cubs continued....

We've got history together

The prompts from @noots-fic-fests have been invaluable in actually getting this AU written, with the character credit of course to @lumosinlove

Remember when personal chef Leo was invited by sweetheart Finn to bring his boyfriend up for the week to his house in the Hamptons? But then I left you on a cliffhanger on how Finn and Logan knew each other?? like 3 months ago?? Here's their backstory! (about 2000 words, rated T)

Read on ao3

Finn, for some unknowable reason, was taking History 1039: First Empires: Power and Propaganda in the Ancient World, and was actually looking forward to it each week. It was a smile in a crowd, a time slot highlighted deep green (which was the colour for good things, peaceful things), a moment to look forward to amid his absolutely manic final semester. And well, if he was being honest with himself, it was the time he saw Tremblay. Logan Tremblay. At a heavy wooden table, absolutely surrounded by reference books, he had learned Logan had played hockey as a kid, as Finn had too, and they’d traded hockey nicknames, seldom used now, and Tremzy had been a fixture in his colour-coded, highly precise day planner. Because if it wasn’t in the planner, it didn’t happen, and he needed those study sessions to happen.

Finn had known since freshman year that he needed another history class and had been putting it off, so here he was in his final semester, finally taking one. And the flutter in his heart whenever he sat down by Logan during the lectures made him appreciate his top notch procrastination skills.

The problem, one of the problems, is that history textbooks aren’t actually well written. Finn would find himself writing ‘we need to pick a theme here and stick to it’ in the margins. His book was marked up to the nines, comma splices fixed, bright orange highlighter over unnecessary details that only clog up the plot, and plenty of sky blue ballpoint pen notes of ‘where are we going with this?’.

But in this class he was expected to remember all those orange details? And had to write essays about the confusing dates and names and meandering themes? He should’ve picked a history class that covered a decade, tops. Any decade would do. This class was so broad it made his head spin. But, another class wouldn’t have had Tremzy in it, so.

So, their highly exclusive study group of two took up a permanent Wednesday evening slot of deep green in the planner. Logan could remember the dates and details and helped Finn with mnemonics so he could remember them too. They made up back-story and funny details to help Finn’s brain tie together a rambling plot. And Finn would read the textbook aloud to Logan on the days where he was too tired to read the English words and the scenes of ancient history would dance in the air between them as they helped each other learn.

The old fashioned study room had huge white candles in sconces around the room and the candles dripped their wax down the sides, within the glass containers. Finn stared at the patterns the wax made on the outside of the candle, tried to read them like tea leaves. Tried to remember dates and names and if that shade of green had always been the one associated with good things? The light from the candles sparkled off the glass holders and Finn knew that green would always mean good, now.

They were just weeks away from the end of the semester now, final essays in the final editing phase (the part Finn was actually good at. Logan may have learned quickly to send Finn his absolute earliest drafts, just to enjoy the sight of him opening his case of markers and highlighters with a flourish and smile). The sun was staying out later now, still shining as their evening study sessions went on into the night. They found themselves invited to a party at the hockey house after going to watch a Crimson game together. They had traded stories of their successes in junior hockey, and an injured player watching from the stands had joined their conversation and invited them to a party.

“Bruh, it’s gonna be summer vibes. We’re bringing on summer early. Wear florals or some shit. The chicks dig florals.”

Finn laughed, “I can probably manage that.”

“Make your outfit as colourful as your papers, Harzy,” Logan had teased. The player, Wags, upon hearing of Finn’s editing skills had desperately begged Finn to do just a quick edit of his last English paper. Finn agreed, laughing.

“Harzy, you’re a beaut! Fuckin comin through like a champ. Ok I gotta go join the boys for intermission pep talk but come by the house Saturday! Drinks all night for you two!” He pointed his crutch back at Finn and Logan as he walked away, “fuckin florals!”

Logan laughed and bumped Finn’s shoulder, “Yeah, Harzy, you beaut.”

Finn bumped Logan back. “Shut up. Roping me into editing in exchange for drinks. And you’re the one with flow,” he said, hitting the back of his hand into the bottom of Logan’s dark curls, which did flow just past his ears.

“Come on, as if your hair isn’t the nicest in any room,” Logan scoffed. He brushed his hand past Finn’s temple as if he was dismissing Finn’s thick red hair, but the touch lingered a bit longer than a dismissal would, and Finn drew his hand back as he felt the air thicken. Their eyes locked together for a long moment. Finn swallowed.

“I should head home,” Logan said, standing up, brushing imaginary dust off his pants. “Essay to finish. Colour coded editing to decipher.”

Finn laughed, tried to make it sound natural and not high and tight.

“Yeah, ok. If we stay here any longer we’ll start calling each other bruh.”

“Yeah, put a red line right through that shit, Harz,” Logan laughed. And the air settled back to normal around them, for now.

But they did call each other bruh the rest of the week.

~~~

The party was fun. Wags came through with the drinks and introduced Finn in every room as “a total lifesaver, bruh.”

They’d danced, and played beer pong (Logan was unfairly coordinated, even amidst a house full of athletes), and debated music and majors with the other students.

But by midnight Finn and Logan were happy to leave the hockey players to their ever stranger games, and Finn walked with Logan back to his dorm. They collapsed into one of the couches in the sitting room off the main entry, it seemed no one was partying here tonight.

“Have fun, Tremzy?” Finn asked through a yawn. Logan tipped his head back against the couch and was quiet for a long moment. “Yeah, it was fun. Do you miss it? Hockey? And the built-in friends?” Finn also tilted his head back, and turned his head towards Logan. He waved a hand in the air. “Yes, and no. The sport itself, I loved, would totally play some more. And I made some awesome friends. But the locker room culture overall isn’t quite where I wish it was? It made it hard, in the end, and I just stopped having fun.”

“Ouias, même chose. And I just wanted to focus on other things.”

They sat for a long minute beside each other, heads resting back and looking at each other. Something switched in the air, like one of the sconce candles had been lit, all of a sudden, on. And Finn leaned over and was kissing Logan before he even knew he was going to.

Logan was still for just a moment before he threaded his hand into Finn’s hair and pulled him closer. Finn held Logan’s jaw in both his hands, unbearably gently, and they settled into each other, the press and movement of lips against lips, jaw, ear, neck.

“I’m not gay,” Logan murmured against his mouth, after some minutes, and Finn backed away slightly.

“That’s ok, that’s fine,” Finn said. He kept his hand cupping Logan’s jaw, never wanted to touch anything else after this sacred skin against his fingertips. “I think I’m bi, but lately there have been more guys in my mind, so who knows.” Not guys, the inner editor in his mind corrected. Guy. Singular. Be specific with your words. It’s green eyes and broad shoulders that have been building a home in your mind. But Finn couldn’t make his mouth say these truths, not with Logan’s eyes looking that stormy and wild and worried.

He leaned in again, 80% of the way, ok maybe 95%, but then waited to see if Logan wanted more. Finn melted and felt like he might float away when Tremz leaned in to press their lips together again. It was soft and tentative but Logan’s grip against his bicep with one hand and side with the other transferred plenty of desire and care. Finn thought he might keep his hand on Logan’s jaw until his hand cramped, it felt so good and right there, the slight stubble soft enough to feel like the best texture toy in existence.

Their lips pressed together like a dance. For a while soft and sweet, just Logan’s fingertips on Finn’s biceps and Finn’s fingers in their new home. Then it turned hotter, deeper. They gripped tighter and moved skating fingers across each other’s chests and hips.

Finn slung a leg over both of Logan’s, still sitting beside him, not on him, but now turned fully towards each other so they could press their chests together in a gasp.

“I thought you liked girls,” Logan said, very unfortunately using his mouth to talk instead of kiss. “You talked about Hannah a lot back at the start of the semester.”

“I do like Hannah. I like a lot of people,” Finn said into the hinge of Logan’s jaw. I like you, his brain amended.

“Have there been, you said you’ve been thinking of boys? Have there been guys in your bed too?” Logan said slowly, accent heavy around the words, the sentence stumbling as his fingers traced up and down Finn’s side. Finn’s heart galloped ahead before he could answer. He pulled back slightly, feeling that Logan really wanted an answer.

“Well, no, not lately. I mean, I have … well I’ve had a lot of people in my bed honestly. But lately, no, no guys in my bed for ... quite some time.” At least two months, Finn thought. A bit more? Which in retrospect was not the norm for him, but he honestly hadn’t noticed the lack these past weeks. “Why? Are there guys in your bed? You haven’t told me about anyone you’ve hooked up with.”

Logan just shook his head, fingers gripping into Finn’s hips, but he didn’t lean in again. “No, there hasn’t been, I mean I’ve done stuff with girls, but I haven’t, merde,” Logan looked up at the ceiling before levelling his gaze at Finn. “Finn, you’re the first guy I’ve kissed.” Finn raised his eyebrows. “I honestly don’t know what, don’t know who I like,” he stuttered.

Finn traced his fingertips over Logan’s cheeks. “Do you like this?” He trailed his fingers down Logan’s neck. Logan nodded. “And this?” Finn leaned in to place a soft kiss just below Logan’s ear.

“Absolutely.” Logan tilted his neck to give Finn more access.

“Ok, well then, Tremzy, do you want to keep kissing me? You don’t have to. It’s so fine if you want to stop.”

Logan just leaned in and captured Finn’s mouth again and Finn let himself be kissed within an inch of his life.

Some time later they slowed, and stopped. They peppered small kisses across each other’s faces for a long time before actually stopping. Finn walked Logan up to his room holding hands. They kissed one more time at Logan’s door. Finn felt like the house around them may as well not be there, like he may as well be floating with Logan, under the stars, for as much as he took notice of anything other than the soft lips, the scruff of hair, the hard muscles under his hands. It felt a little bit like magic.

In the scheme of things, their history together included dozens of evenings together with books strewn about the heavy wood table, a difficult course that had been successfully navigated by the help of each other, moments of care and kindness and friendship. But that was one class, a handful of months, one kiss. Years ago.

They had continued to study after that night, proof-reading each other's essays. There had been more casual touching, a hand on a knee or a stroke across a back as they walked by, but they hadn’t kissed again. Finn thought maybe they would at the end of the semester. But then the semester ended in a whirlwind of exams and papers and best wishes from so many people and Finn had been travelling into the city to find an apartment on the weekends and doing job interviews at magazines and publishing houses. They just … hadn’t. And then he’d dropped his whole fucking bag onto the tracks that day in New York and he’d decided to switch to an android phone, and the kiss, and Tremzy, were a fond but distant memory.

Except, now here he was. Right in-fucking-front of him. At his house. For the next 10 days. With Leo. Leo was his boyfriend.

What the actual fuck.

#fic-o-ween 2023 #o'knutzy #Hamptons AU #characters by lumosinlove #harvard FinnLo

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