#off the marshmallow stick and into the campfire
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awanderingmuse-fandom · 2 months ago
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Off The Marshamallow Stick and Into the Campfire
Chapter 33
Fandom: Outer Wilds
Summary: The light of the exploding singularity is brighter than anything Obsidian has ever imagined. Breathtaking as a spark of hope when they thought everything was lost. Obsidian would know, they’d worn that feeling like a  second skin, loop, after loop, after loop. The feeling still holds them even as pure light, pure possibility, consumes them. Then, nothing. 
Obsidian wakes up…
Rating: Teen
Warnings:  Major Character Death, severe injury, trauma, Existentialism, aftermath of trauma, alcohol use, references to suicide, mentions of substance abuse
Characters: Player Character (Obsidian), Gabbro, Hal, Gossan, Marl, Gneiss, Chert, Hornfels, Riebeck, Slate, Esker, Feldspar, Porphy, Rutile, Micha
Tags: Aftermath of the End of The Universe, Cannon Continuation, Gabbro didn’t just sit on Giant’s Deep the whole time, Player Character and Gabbro are friends, Science Compels Us to Explore the Multiverse, everyone lives kinda, things I wish the game let happen, liberties taken with in game timeliness and mechanics for easier write-a-bility, physics, metaphysics, fluff, hurt comfort, slice of life, Multiple POV, Tragedy, Character Death, Echoes of Eye Spoilers, Suicide Attempt, Adventure, Substance Abuse, No Beta We Die Like the Universe, A Bit of Prose for Flavor, All the writers and artists in this Fandom are amazing and y'all gave me brain rot
Chapter Preview
“This would've been easier.” Gabbro murmurs as they hop from stone to stone. “We could come back later when the sand’s rising for old times sake.” Obsidian suggests wryly, “But I think Gossan might consider that an unnecessary risk.” “I think I might consider that an unnecessary risk, Time Pal.” Obsidian would worry that they'd said the wrong thing if not for the teasing smile in Gabbro's tone. It probably is an unnecessary risk. “Then we'll have to skip it. I'm saving all my unnecessary risk goodwill for The Sun Station.”
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juneberrie · 10 months ago
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THOSE SUMMER NIGHTS ⋆.ೃ࿔*
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word count: 0.1k || masterlist
summary: campfire w your girlfriend!! apollo!fem!reader
author's note: really short clarisse blurb for u gays guys
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you shiver when a cold gust of wind blows against your back. you and clarisse are sitting on a log together, around the campfire. she has one arm around you and one holding two sticks with marshmallows over the fire.
"you cold, sunshine?" she asks. she adjusts her arm over you slightly, pulling you closer to her body.
"mhm," you hum.
"hold these," she say, handing you the sticks. you grab them, watching as she pulls her jacket off, revealing her tank top. her arms flex slightly as she drapes her jacket around your shoulders. she takes the sticks from you and puts her arm around you once again.
"won't you get cold?" you ask, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder. despite your girlfriend's jacket keeping you warm, you could still feel the chill in the summer air.
"nah," she replied, kissing your head. "i'll be fine, babe."
you smile up at her, and she smiles back. "i love you," you say, reaching up to cup her face.
she rolled her eyes. "yeah, yeah, i love you too, sunshine," she mumbled, capturing your lips with hers.
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moonselune · 3 months ago
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I have no idea if you will be able to do this in time
But can you throw some Halloween headcanons with all the bg3 main companions! <3
Babe the way I had to SEARCH for this ask in the sea of requests, but I was determined. So I am going to do a halloween scenario but moreso the bg3 companions reacting to you forcing them to dress up for halloween ;)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
BG3 Companions | Halloween
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Karlach:
Karlach narrowed her eyes at you, arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at the costume you’d spent the last few nights putting together. You could tell she was holding back a smirk, but she was still being stubborn.
“A campfire?” she asked with exaggerated skepticism, raising one eyebrow. “Soldier, you want me to dress up as a campfire?”
“Yes!” you replied with enthusiasm, clutching the little bundle of accessories you’d made for her. “Look, it’s perfect for you! You’re warm, you bring everyone together, you light up every room you’re in—and, let’s face it, you’ve got literal flames licking off your skin when you get excited.” You held up the marshmallow sticks you’d crafted. “It’ll be fun! Kids will love it!”
She kept her arms crossed but looked intrigued despite herself, glancing down at the costume pieces in your hands. You could see her hesitation melting bit by bit.
“C’mon, please?” you added, giving her a soft smile. “I swear it’ll be worth it. I’ll even do all the cleanup afterward. And… I’ll owe you for this,” you promised, arching an eyebrow suggestively.
Karlach let out a dramatic sigh, letting you take that as a small victory.
“You’re lucky I love you,” she said, shaking her head, but she finally relented, holding out her arms for you to start putting the costume together.
You beamed and set to work. The base of the costume was a simple brown wrap to resemble logs, snugly wrapped around her waist. Over her shoulders, you draped a soft, red cloak with fire resistant felt flames that flickered and shimmered with the charms you’d enchanted to give her natural flames an extra glow. You attached more flames around her wrists and ankles, creating the effect of a warm, roaring campfire with her at the center. She rolled her eyes when you added the final touches—two wooden sticks with marshmallows glued onto them—but her lips twitched up in a reluctant smile.
She glanced at herself in the mirror, hands on her hips as she looked from side to side, assessing your work.
“Alright, alright,” she admitted with a smile finally breaking through. “Guess I do look kinda… cozy.”
The kids were already gathering by the time you led her to the village, their eyes wide as they spotted Karlach’s flaming costume from a distance. A little crowd started to form, kids cheering and jumping around as they spotted the 'campfire lady'. Karlach’s surprise melted into delight as she held out the marshmallow sticks, laughing as the kids shyly took turns roasting their treats on her flaming hands.
“Whoa, you’re really warm!” one of them gasped, his marshmallow turning golden as he held it close to her hand. Karlach laughed, patting him gently on the shoulder.
“Just wait ‘til you see it when it’s really glowing,” she whispered playfully, letting the flames on her skin flicker up just a bit higher. The kids gasped and cheered, completely in awe of her. One by one, she helped them roast marshmallows to perfection, giving tips on how to achieve the perfect golden brown.
You stayed nearby, watching with a smile as Karlach lit up the entire square, her laughter carrying over the joyful chatter of the crowd around her. She looked down at you, and the affection in her eyes was almost as warm as her flames.
“You win,” she murmured when she finally got a moment with you. “Look at their little faces… they’re eating it up.”
“Told you it was perfect,” you replied, squeezing her hand gently. “Look how happy they are because of you.”
Karlach’s smile softened, and she glanced back at the group of kids eagerly taking turns roasting their treats, some even asking for a second or third marshmallow just to keep the fun going. She was practically glowing now, in every sense of the word.
As the night wound down, her costume had become a sticky mess of marshmallow smudges and crumbs, and her cheeks were sore from hours of smiling. But you could tell she was basking in the warmth of it all—the happiness, the laughter, the looks of awe and wonder from the kids who’d never seen anything like her. She was still chuckling as she helped hand out the last of the marshmallows, patting one of the kids gently on the back as he ran off, marshmallow goo on his face.
Once the square emptied out, Karlach sighed contentedly, her flames flickering down as she took a moment to breathe. She looked over at you, a mixture of gratitude and affection in her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, squeezing your hand and pulling you in for a hug. “This was… just the best. They loved it.”
You leaned into her embrace, resting your head against her shoulder.
“Anything for you,” you replied softly. “And hey, I always knew you’d make a perfect campfire.”
She chuckled, ruffling your hair as she kissed the top of your head. “Guess you’re right,” she murmured.
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Minthara:
“Absolutely not,” Minthara stated firmly, crossing her arms as she eyed the displacer beast costume you held up.
“Come on, my love,” you coaxed, stepping closer with a grin. “It’s perfect. Even you’ve said you have feline instincts! Just… imagine prowling around like a creature of the night.” You wiggled the tail in front of her, hoping the flickering, eerie lights of the little village might inspire her to humor you.
She narrowed her eyes, clearly unamused by your pitch, though her lips twitched in a way that suggested she might find it a little funny.
“I will not be reduced to childish imitations,” she spat, looking at the sleek, dark-furred costume in disdain. “And I won’t wear it.”
“Oh really?” you challenged, smiling deviously as you watched her flick her gaze from you to the costume and back again. “Because I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
Her eyebrows shot up, but she barely had a chance to react as you launched yourself at her, pressing her backward and shoving the soft, padded costume onto her shoulders. She let out a startled yelp, trying to shake you off as you shoved her arms into the sleeves and wrestled the hood over her head.
“Oh, for the love of the gods!” Minthara barked, half-heartedly pushing at you as you pulled the furry ears into place. “I swear, I will make you pay for this.”
Once she was securely wrapped up in the costume—whiskers, padded tail, and all—you stepped back to take in the sight. The sleek black fabric hugged her form, with the twin displacer beast tentacles curling over her shoulders and around her waist, giving her an undeniably mischievous look. She was, in short, perfectly suited to it, with her sharp eyes peeking out from beneath the hood.
“Touch it, and you won’t see the bed for a week,” you said sharply, stopping her just as she was about to rip the hood off.
Minthara froze, her fingers twitching as her gaze shot to you, then narrowed into a glare. “You would not dare.”
“Oh, I would,” you replied coolly. “So, you can keep it on, or you can test me.” You raised an eyebrow, holding her gaze with steady determination.
For a long moment, she merely glowered at you, clearly weighing her options. Finally, with a loud, frustrated sigh, she dropped her hands to her sides and adjusted her grip on the costume’s tail.
“Fine,” she growled. “But if any sticky little goblin-child comes near me, I’m dropkicking them into the next village.”
You grinned, throwing an arm around her waist as you pulled her toward the village square. “Deal.”
The festive lights and happy chatter of the town greeted you both as you arrived, with children and adults alike laughing, running from house to house for treats. You walked with Minthara through the little streets, watching her scan every corner as if searching for an ambush—and giving a barely audible growl every time someone giggled or whispered about her costume.
At one point, you turned to compliment a young child on their ghost costume, only to feel Minthara pull away from you. When you turned back, you were met with an amusing sight: Minthara, surrounded by a swarm of wide-eyed children, all grinning up at her with excitement.
“Wow! Are you a real displacer beast?” one kid asked, eyes round with awe.
“By the Underdark no,” she muttered, jaw clenched as the small army of sticky fingers approached her. She shot you a panicked, murderous look as a tiny hand tugged on one of the tentacles.
You bit back laughter, taking a few steps closer and whispering to the crowd with increased urgency as Minthara prepared to raise her leg,“Hey, I hear there’s a house down the street giving out massive chocolate bars! Biggest ones in the village!”
In an instant, the kids cheered and bolted off, racing toward the promise of candy and leaving Minthara in blessed silence once again.
As they vanished into the night, Minthara took a deep, steadying breath, muttering something under her breath about “never doing this again” and “cursed mortal children.” But as you wrapped your arm around her shoulders once more, you felt her hand slip into yours, her grip surprisingly gentle.
“You did great,” you said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “And I think that’s the most fun you’ve had in a long time.”
Minthara huffed, but she couldn’t hide the small, begrudging smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"I hate you."
"I love you too."
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Lae'zel:
Lae'zel crossed her arms over her chest, staring down at you with a steely gaze that dared you to even try.
"Under no circumstances," she intoned firmly, "am I dressing up as a frog. It is disgraceful."
“Oh, come on, Lae’zel,” you pleaded, holding up the frog costume with hopeful eyes. “Just this once, for me?”
She scoffed, looking as though the very idea of her in a giant frog suit might singlehandedly ruin her reputation among all Githyanki.
"You expect a warrior, Prince Orpheus' comet, to be reduced to… this?” She waved her hand dismissively at the costume, shaking her head in disgust. “No.”
“But think about it,” you said, your voice lilting, knowing you had to play this one carefully. “The kids would love it. It’s Hallow’s Eve! Everyone’s supposed to dress up as something a little fun.”
Lae’zel’s expression didn’t budge, her jaw set as she shook her head, staring you down as if daring you to continue. “I have no use for human frivolities. I won’t degrade myself.”
You pulled out the big guns, stepping closer and widening your eyes, letting your lip quiver just a little. “Please?”
Her expression faltered, only slightly.
“That,” she said slowly, “will not work on me. I am Githyanki. We do not bow to… emotional manipulations.”
You let a single tear slide down your cheek, adding a sniff for good measure.
She blinked, visibly thrown, and as much as she tried to maintain her composure, her brow furrowed just the slightest bit in concern. “Stop that. This tactic is beneath you.”
“Oh,” you sighed dramatically, looking down at the frog suit with a crestfallen expression. “I just thought… I thought it’d be cute to see you dressed up with everyone. But I understand,” you murmured, holding the costume close to you as if it was your crushed hopes and dreams.
She groaned, something she did not often do, and before she could stop herself, she muttered, “Fine. But I will wield my sword.”
Fifteen minutes later, Lae’zel emerged, reluctantly pulling on the last piece of her frog costume, looking very much the part of an amphibian warrior—frog head, billowing frog suit, and all, though her stern expression and tightly gripped longsword made her look anything but harmless.
You grinned widely, knowing that getting her to dress up had been worth the effort.
“You look amazing,” you said, trying not to laugh. “Really fierce.”
She glared at you, her nostrils flaring slightly, but she couldn’t entirely hide her intrigue when you pointed to a group of children gathered nearby, staring in awe.
“They look scared,” she noted, a hint of satisfaction in her tone.
“You’re a frog warrior, Lae’zel! Of course, they’re a little intimidated. But they’ll love you.” And before she could protest further, you gently nudged her toward the kids.
She turned, moving with that same fierce stance, and the children’s eyes widened as she approached, frog-headed and sword-clad.
“Kneel before me, tiny humans,” she commanded, her voice booming.
The kids squealed in delight and mock terror, darting back a few steps before returning, emboldened, their eyes shining as they circled her. Lae’zel raised her sword with a mock-threatening gesture, and they scattered again, laughing.
You watched her as she continued, enjoying herself more than you’d ever seen. She even leaned down to growl at a particularly bold child who tugged on her frog hood. As the children ran off to continue their candy hunt, she glanced back at you with a rare grin.
“Perhaps this is not such a pointless human tradition after all,” she said, lifting her chin proudly.
You laughed, wrapping an arm around her. “Told you it’d be fun.”
With a satisfied nod, she squeezed your shoulder. “For you,” she muttered, “I may tolerate more… indulgences.”
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Shadowheart:
Convincing Shadowheart to wear a Halloween costume was proving more difficult than you expected.
"Absolutely not," she said, crossing her arms and giving you a firm, albeit playful, glare. "I am a cleric—not a witch." She added that last word with the distaste of someone who’d just bitten into something sour. “In fact, I hate witches. They’re insidious manipulators, and my faith has been muddled enough.”
“But look,” you said, holding up the sleek black witch’s hat and the carefully layered robes with stitched arcane symbols and starry patches. “It’s not a real witch outfit; it’s just for fun! You’d be my witch, and I’d be your little black cat.” You dangled a set of matching costumes with a playful grin.
She eyed the ensemble, a skeptical frown on her lips. “No,” she said, looking away but unable to hide the faint smile that twitched at the corners of her mouth. “Absolutely not.”
You sighed, dramatically bringing a hand to your chest. “You’d look amazing, Shadowheart, all mystical and dark and mysterious. Besides, you can do whatever you want with me for a whole week if you wear it.”
At this, her eyebrows rose. The idea had clearly sparked something.
“Anything I want?” Her voice was all shadow and intrigue, her usual intensity turning mischievous.
You nodded, maintaining eye contact and trying not to grin. “Anything you want. All yours.”
She raised an eyebrow, mulling it over for only a second before taking the costume from your hands.
“Fine,” she said, her tone cool but her eyes glimmering. “But if I’m going to be a witch, I’m going to be the scariest one anyone’s ever seen.”
Once she was dressed, you put on your cat ears and tail, and you couldn’t help but stare. The dark robes flowed around her elegantly, and the hat sat tilted perfectly, lending her an air of dark enchantment that somehow made her even more striking.
“You know,” you said, giving her an appreciative once-over, “I was right. You do look amazing.”
She laughed softly, casting her hand toward you in mock threat, almost as if she were casting a spell.
“You’ve barely seen anything yet,” she said with a smirk, clearly enjoying herself now. “So are you my little black cat or not?”
You purred playfully in response, much to her amusement, and then surprised her with a whistle.
“What are you doing?” she asked, tilting her head in curiosity.
Just then, Scratch came bounding over, tail wagging, with tiny bat wings strapped to his back. Shadowheart’s face softened immediately as she took in the sight of him, her usual stoic demeanor melting.
“Oh,” she whispered, genuinely moved. “Look at him. He’s… precious.”
Scratch barked, looking between you two as though awaiting approval for his costume. She crouched down, stroking his head and adjusting his bat wings gently.
“Well, aren’t you just the most terrifying little creature?” she cooed, her eyes twinkling with rare, unguarded warmth.
“You almost died from the cuteness just now, didn’t you?” you teased, leaning in beside her as she scratched Scratch’s ears.
She gave you a playful glare, the warmth never leaving her face. “Maybe. But if you tell anyone that, your week of servitude will be much more demanding.”
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Jaheira:
Convincing Jaheira to dress up for Hallows Eve took every ounce of charm and determination you possessed. She gave you an unimpressed look the first time you suggested it, her arms crossed as she tried to resist even the hint of a smirk.
"I am far too old for this," she said, voice steady but with the faintest gleam of amusement in her eyes.
"But you’re never too old to be the fiercest dragon in Faerûn," you replied, holding up the costume with a hopeful smile. It was more elegant than over-the-top—a deep green cloak, trimmed with silver threads and sewn to look like scales in some parts, with shoulder pieces that bore subtle, dragon-like wings. The cloak even had a hood lined with intricate, subtle horns.
Jaheira raised an eyebrow, arms still crossed as she examined the costume in your hands.
“You want me to dress as a dragon?” she said, giving you a half-smile. "Just because I am fierce does not mean I wish to look like a… large, scaly lizard."
“Not just any dragon," you said, "but the most fearsome one that guards a priceless horde.” You gestured to yourself, draped in layers of golden fabrics and glittering chains, glimmering bracelets, and rings on nearly every finger. Each piece shone and reflected the light like freshly minted coins. “See? I’m your horde. Your treasure.”
Jaheira’s lips curved into a reluctant smile, and she shook her head with a bemused sigh.
“You’re insufferable,” she murmured, and reached for the costume, the softest of chuckles escaping her lips.
You watched as she draped the cloak over her shoulders, fastening it with an elegant clasp at her collarbone. The fabric rippled like scales as she moved, accentuating the already powerful presence she carried. As she lifted the hood, a subtle yet enchanting transformation took place—suddenly, she wasn’t just Jaheira anymore. She was your fierce dragon, mysterious and mighty, with her eyes glinting like a true creature of legend.
When she turned to look at you, her smile was edged with a bit of playful danger.
“Well, how do I look?” she asked, voice low and almost teasing, as though she already knew the answer.
“Like you were born for this,” you said, unable to hide the awe in your voice. “It’s perfect.”
The two of you stared at each other for a moment, caught up in a silence that buzzed with something neither of you wanted to name just yet. Slowly, Jaheira’s fingers reached out to toy with the golden necklace resting on your collarbone. Her eyes roved over the glinting pieces, taking in how they draped against your skin and the way they caught the light.
“My horde,” she murmured with a half-smile, fingers trailing down to the bracelets on your wrist. “Fitting.”
You could see the tension fading from her shoulders, the amusement warming her eyes.
“So… shall we go scare the town as the most fearsome dragon and their horde?” you asked, barely able to keep from leaning in closer. Jaheira paused, her fingers still tracing the edges of your jewelry. She gave you a smile, this time softer, more private.
“Perhaps we should stay here instead,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, her tone laced with affection.
Your hand moved to her waist, fingers slipping under the edge of the cloak as she drew you closer. Her lips found yours in a kiss that was more intense than you’d expected, her touch gentle yet commanding, like the steady, powerful confidence she carried herself with. The night you’d planned on spending out quickly became one spent in each other's arms, with her "horde" all too willing to be claimed by the dragon’s fierce, undivided attention.
It wasn’t long before the costumes were discarded, a trail of glittering gold left across the floor. And though you never left the door that night, it was a Hallows Eve neither of you would soon forget.
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Gale:
Convincing Gale to dress up for Hallows Eve took some careful nudging, but once he was finally on board, you couldn’t resist suggesting a costume idea that had you giggling before you even explained it to him.
"A zombie? Really?" he asked, folding his arms in mock disappointment, though there was a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Of all the magical beings and creatures of wonder in Faerûn, you’d pick something so… single-mindedly undead?"
You stifled another laugh, the logic too ridiculous to resist sharing.
“But Gale,” you said, putting on your most serious face, “you’re a wizard, right?”
“Yes, last I checked,” he replied with a smirk, leaning forward to humor you. "I was fairly certain my profession was clear."
“And wizards have a certain… thirst for knowledge, don’t they?” you continued, a glint of mischief in your eyes.
“Indeed. In some cases, it can be quite insatiable,” he replied, genuinely intrigued now but slightly wary, as if sensing a twist in the logic you were spinning.
You bit back a grin, leaning in closer. “And where is knowledge kept, my dear wizard?”
Gale’s brow furrowed, and he answered slowly, “…in the brain?”
“Exactly! And what do zombies love?” you asked, finally breaking into a fit of giggles as he let out a groan.
“Brains,” he said, the realization hitting him with both exasperation and amusement. "Oh, that’s… it’s dreadful. You’ve managed to connect wizards and zombies on a deeper level than I’d care to admit."
You couldn’t stop laughing, enjoying every second of his feigned outrage, especially with the way his cheeks flushed as he tried to hide his smile. “Come on, Gale! It’s perfect, really. You’re already driven by a pursuit for knowledge, and zombies just… have a more basic approach to that pursuit.”
“Yes, basic indeed,” he muttered with a sigh, shaking his head. But the grin was there, and you could see that he was secretly pleased by your reasoning, despite his protests. “Alright,” he conceded, rolling his eyes with a touch of dramatic flair, “I’ll do it. For the sake of your delightful, albeit tenuous, reasoning. But don’t expect me to groan and stumble like a true zombie. I’ll bring a touch of wizardly sophistication to the role.”
With a gleam of excitement, you began applying some light makeup to him, smudging dark shadow around his eyes, hollowing out his cheeks a little to give him that authentic "undead scholar" look. He humored you as you mussed his hair and added a few streaks of pale gray to mimic age, decay, or perhaps an “undead wizard” who’d spent too many sleepless nights with his spellbooks.
“There, perfect,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “You’re like a zombie who rose from the grave just to keep researching.”
Gale examined himself in the mirror, shaking his head with mock dismay.
“I look… disturbingly convincing,” he admitted. “My own brilliance, tragically reduced to a brain-hungry husk. Who would’ve thought?” His eyes sparkled with affection as he turned back to you. "Only you would be able to charm me into such a ridiculous costume, you know."
You grinned, brushing a hand down his tattered robes. “And you look perfect. Just the right balance of terrifying and brainy.”
With the finishing touches done, the two of you made your way to join the festivities in the village. Gale remained in character, delivering overly dramatic monologues about his unending 'hunger for knowledge' to anyone who’d listen, pausing now and then to compliment your costume and hold your hand.
It wasn’t long before you had to admit—seeing Gale, the ever-serious wizard, play the part of a hungry zombie all for your sake was nothing short of adorable. And even Gale, in his begrudging way, had to admit he was rather enjoying himself, especially when he saw how happy it made you.
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Astarion:
Convincing Astarion to think outside the box for Hallows Eve had proved to be a herculean task. As soon as you mentioned costumes, he’d declared, "I’ll go as a vampire, obviously. Dark, seductive, the very spirit of mystery and allure. What else could possibly fit me better?"
“Exactly, Astarion,” you’d replied, stifling a grin, “you are a vampire. You need something different for Hallows Eve, something unexpected.”
He sighed dramatically, reclining with his hands laced behind his head, grumbling as he eyed you in amusement. “Fine, fine, but it better be something worthy of my looks. And what about you? I’ve got plenty of ideas, you know.”
“Oh, do you?” you replied, raising an eyebrow.
He flashed his wicked smile. “Of course. Let’s see… Sexy Sorceress? Sexy Demon? Ooh—Sexy Darkling would suit you perfectly. I’d even consider it a personal favor if you leaned into that one.” His tone was so sincere that it took a few beats before you realized he was utterly teasing, and you had to laugh, swatting at his arm.
“No. You’re the one we’re dressing up today,” you insisted, rolling your eyes. For the better part of the afternoon, you raided chests, examined cloaks, and threw around ideas that Astarion batted down faster than you could conjure up new ones.
As he tossed yet another cloak aside, you had a sudden flash of inspiration.
“…An angel,” you murmured, half to yourself. Astarion’s eyebrow rose, a skeptical look in his eyes as he scoffed.
“An angel?” He chuckled, leaning forward as he looked you up and down. “Is this another one of your schemes to get me into something ridiculous?”
“No, Astarion, listen,” you said, your eyes bright. “You’re the one who always describes this life you were robbed of—the choices taken from you, the light that was snuffed out. You could have been anyone, done anything… Maybe even something truly beautiful. But Cazador stole that.” Your voice softened as you reached for his hand. “So, yes. An angel. For the grace and strength you deserve.”
For a moment, he stared at you, genuinely speechless, his smug smile slipping into something far more vulnerable. He swallowed hard, a rare flicker of uncertainty dancing across his face.
“An… angel,” he repeated quietly, his voice almost reverent. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
You nodded, your expression tender as you reached up, gently cupping his face. “Yes. You deserve it, Astarion.”
His eyes glistened, a touch of softness shining through his usual guarded expression. He let out a disbelieving huff, though the hint of a smile broke through.
“Damn you,” he whispered, his voice choked. “Only you could make such a ridiculous idea sound…”
“Perfect?” you teased softly, a playful gleam in your eye. His laugh was soft, almost self-conscious, as he held onto your hands.
“Yes,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Perfect.”
You spent the next hour piecing together the outfit: an immaculate white tunic with golden accents, a radiant pair of ethereal wings you managed to string together with illusion magic, and even a soft golden circlet to frame his curls. He watched you fuss over each detail, looking at you with a warmth that was rarely seen. The finishing touch was a faint dusting of golden powder along his cheeks, giving him a soft, celestial glow.
When you finally stepped back to admire him, the sight of him took your breath away. Astarion, the vampire, dressed as an angel, a being of light and grace, standing before you with quiet awe.
“You… you look beautiful,” you said softly, almost reverently.
For a moment, Astarion said nothing, just took your hands, holding them as though grounding himself. When he finally spoke, his voice was filled with a gratitude he rarely showed.
“I can’t believe you’d see me like this,” he whispered, looking down as his thumbs brushed over your knuckles. "After everything."
You smiled, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. “You don’t need to believe it. I’ll believe it enough for both of us.”
He held your gaze for a long moment, a slow, grateful smile spreading across his face. And in that instant, it was as if the weight of all he’d endured softened, even if just a little, by your love and belief in him.
“Now,” you said with a grin, finally breaking the charged silence, “about that Sexy Darkling costume—”
“Oh, darling,” he smirked, his usual charm back in full force, “Have I told you how much I love you?"
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Wyll:
The plan had sounded so simple when you first proposed it to Wyll: a costume for Hallows Eve, something playful and lighthearted, a chance to see him let loose and have fun. Wyll, ever the gentleman and ever your romantic, had agreed instantly, his eyes lighting up as he imagined himself in an outfit befitting a knight or perhaps a dashing prince. "A hero from a fairytale,” he’d said with an easy smile, practically glowing with excitement.
You hadn’t had the heart to tell him right away that you had something a bit… softer in mind.
“A ram?” he’d said, blinking in polite confusion when you finally explained, taking in your expression with a hopeful, albeit slightly uncertain smile. “As in, horns, wool, and… hooves?”
“Well, yes,” you replied, giving him a sweet smile and lightly tracing his curved horns. “Just think how cute you’d look! You already have the horns to make it work! And besides, I promised the kids that they could be part of your herd. You’d be leading them around as their grand, fluffy ram!”
Wyll looked at you, mouth slightly open, clearly battling an internal struggle.
“So… you want me to be… their flock leader?” His tone was diplomatic, but his face said he was clearly trying to figure out an escape route.
“Oh, please, Wyll?” you pouted, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, complete with a dramatic little sigh. “It would mean so much to me. And the kids would be so disappointed if you said no. They’re so excited, and I was going to be your shepherd! Just imagine it: me with my shepherd’s staff and you as my sweet, cuddly ram.”
He let out a low groan, rubbing a hand over his face. “You know that I love you,” he said with a resigned sigh, though his eyes were filled with reluctant amusement. “And that is the only reason I’m doing this.”
Soon after, you presented him with a bundle of fluffy white fabric and a headband with cute, spiraled horns to go over his own. Wyll held up the costume with a look of pure disbelief.
“This is… quite the outfit,” he muttered, feeling the woolen fluff between his fingers with a rueful shake of his head. But there was warmth in his eyes when he looked back at you. “I suppose you won’t take no for an answer?”
“Not when you’ll look this adorable,” you teased, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Come on, the sooner you put it on, the sooner we can get out there and show everyone!”
With one last sigh, he started changing, grumbling good-naturedly under his breath the entire time. When he emerged, draped in the full, wooly monstrosity of the costume, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. He was covered head to toe in the fluffy, bouncy material, with his horns peeking out just above his ears, and little painted hooves on his hands and feet.
“You… look incredible,” you managed to say, stifling another laugh. He sighed, though a smirk was already forming on his lips.
“Only because I’d never hear the end of it if I didn’t,” he replied, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky I love you.”
“And you’re lucky I have such a good eye for costumes,” you countered, reaching up to adjust one of his horns. “Just wait until you see how much everyone loves it!”
With your shepherd’s staff in hand and Wyll reluctantly donning his oversized, fluffy ensemble, the two of you set out to the village. As you’d promised, the children were absolutely thrilled to see him, cheering and calling out his name as they ran up to pet the soft wool on his costume. They giggled and followed him around like a little flock, tugging on his ‘hooves’ and patting his fluffy sleeves.
Wyll sighed but gave you a resigned smile over the children’s heads, his eyes softened by the sight of their joy.
“You win,” he said quietly, his voice warm with affection. “I’ll admit it’s worth it for this.”
You just grinned, leaning into his shoulder as you watched the children play around him. “And here you thought you’d hate it,” you teased.
He chuckled, pulling you close with a light squeeze. “Don’t be so quick to assume. But next time, I’m going as a knight. Dashing hero. Deal?”
“Deal,” you replied with a smile, squeezing his hand and leading your very own ram back to his happy flock.
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Halsin:
Convincing Halsin to dress up as a bumblebee took a great deal of pleading, gentle nudging, and some carefully chosen words about certain late night activities, but after much persistence, he’d finally agreed, albeit with a few lingering doubts.
“You know I could just shift into one,” he’d grumbled, watching as you held up a tiny headband with wobbly antennae, complete with a pair of small, transparent wings.
“But where’s the fun in that?” you countered, barely containing your grin. “Besides, with the way you sneak into beehives for honey, consider this an homage to the bees you’ve ‘borrowed’ from all these years.”
That had made him pause, a flicker of reluctant amusement in his eyes, and with a resigned sigh, he finally took the costume from you, muttering something about how ridiculous he’d look. It took him a while to wrestle himself into the striped outfit—he was, after all, a towering druid with muscles to match, and the costume had certainly not been designed with his broad shoulders in mind. But when he finally emerged, you were struggling not to laugh.
This hulking figure of nature, all muscle and authority, stood in the doorway wearing a snug black-and-yellow striped shirt, tiny, flimsy wings that were far too small for his back, and a headband with wobbly antennae that looked especially ridiculous given his usual stoic, serene expression. Halsin gave you a look, raising an eyebrow as if daring you to say a word.
“Well?” he rumbled, crossing his arms. “Is this ridiculous enough for you, my heart?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you replied, struggling to keep a straight face. “I think it’s… adorable. Don’t you feel adorable?”
Halsin sighed, a deep rumble in his chest, but a smile was starting to pull at the corner of his mouth.
“Yes,” he smiled begrudgingly, his voice low and soft. “Yes, I suppose I do feel adorable.”
You stepped forward, cupping his face and planting a kiss on his lips, which softened his gruff expression as he chuckled. "That’s the spirit, my big, bumbling bee."
Just as he was getting used to the idea, you led him out to the Grove, where the surprise you’d prepared awaited. There, all the orphans of the Grove he cared for stood in a little cluster, each dressed as a tiny bee, buzzing and flapping their wings as they ran up to him.
One by one, they came over, reaching out to tug at his costume, laughing and running circles around him, calling out, “Look, Daddy Halsin, we’re just like you!”
Halsin’s stern expression melted completely as he looked at them, pride and warmth shining in his eyes. It suddenly made sense why you’d been so insistent on the costume. He knelt down, arms outstretched, and the children flocked to him, piling onto his lap and shoulders, each a little bee in their own right.
His gaze met yours, full of gratitude and affection. “You planned this, didn’t you?” he asked softly, his smile so tender it made your heart ache.
“I thought it might make tonight a little more memorable,” you said, watching as the children proudly showed off their costumes, making buzzing sounds and flapping their little wings.
Halsin chuckled deeply, pulling you in for another kiss, one arm wrapped around you and the other holding a little bee who clung to his shoulder. “I am surrounded by the sweetest hive I could ever ask for,” he murmured, glancing between you and the children.
You beamed at him, knowing that tonight would be a memory not just for the children, but for him as well—your big, bumblebee protector, with a heart as soft as honey.
🎃🌙.𖥔 ݁ ˖༉‧₊˚🕯️❀༉‧₊˚.🐈‍⬛
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Okay so very cracky and probs a bit ooc but I just could not get this out of my head. Hope you guys enjoyed this and that you all have a very wonderful and safe halloween over the next few days ! - Seluney xox
If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x
250 notes · View notes
atruewarrior · 3 months ago
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Drabble challenge 2024 | Day 7: Marshmallow character: levi ackerman
When the marshmallows start turning a golden brown, everyone around the campfire whoas.
Sasha, Jean, and Connie are the first to approach Onyankopon. Their screams only get louder when they taste the confectionery.
Beside you, Levi clicks his tongue. "So easily impressed."
"But it's good." You bring the marshmallow you've been roasting to his mouth. "Here."
He's so startled his mind goes blank; instinctively his lips part, teeth sinking into the piece as he slides it off the stick.
Cheeks warm, he avoids your gaze, chewing slowly.
"Well?"
You're so close again. And so oblivious.
"Not bad," he mumbles.
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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago
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FRIDAY THE 13TH
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synopsis: (slasher! AU) the camp urban legend is real...?!
featuring: raiden ei
rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)
warnings: sub! afab fem reader, blood, violence, murder, gory descriptions of death, dru.gging, stalking, mentions of child death, mentions of drowning, slow burn, fing.ering, size kink, fondling, ni.pple play, rough se.x, marking, hickies, pwp, might be ooc.
art credits: chainsaw man
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“Legend has it that a camper at Camp Crystal Lake drowned after a couple of counselors left their posts to go make out in their cabins. When the kid drowned, they said her vengeful spirit haunts Camp Crystal Lake, killing horny counselors who abandon their duties to act on their lust, and—”
“Oh shut up, that’s just an urban legend…!”
As your coworkers bickered over the hazy campfire, you speared another marshmallow onto your stick and started roasting the sugary confection in silence. It was the early days of June, cicadas buzzing in the distance as you and a few other adults were hired to work at Camp Crystal Lake as counselors. You were tasked with getting the camp ready before the next group of campers arrived next week, so the camp grounds were mostly empty with the exception of you and your colleagues.
“Hey, hey, you think the legend is real?” One of your friends nudged you, taking a bite out of her s’mores. “Do you think a ghost is really haunting the lake?”
“Of course not.” You chuckled softly, groaning when you saw your marshmallow catch on fire. “It’s probably just a story the owner told us so we don’t abandon our jobs. We’re here to watch the kids, remember? Not have sex with each other.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” Another guy butts in, smirking and wrapping an arm around you. “The owner isn’t here tonight, so we could all have fun before he gets back.”
You made an annoyed expression when he touched you, slowly prying his arm off and giving him a scowl. “Hands off.” You say with a frown, threatening him to not touch you again.
“Geez, okay…okay…” he quickly retracts his hand, but that arrogant smile is back on his face. “No need to be so bitchy…”
If you could throw a machete at him, you would, but for now all you could do was seethe in silence as you wave your marshmallow around to extinguish the flame. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” you say before getting up. “If we stay out any longer, we’ll be drenched in rain. The weather forecast said there was a thunderstorm coming over the area.”
“Yeah yeah…” a lot of your colleagues waved you off and you sighed before packing up your things. No one really listened to what you had to say, and while it did bug you, you knew it would bite them in the ass later when their campfire gets rained on. You left the bustling group to head back to your old, rickety cabin. The camp has definitely seen better days, but you knew better than to complain. So long as you had electricity, some heating, and warm water, you were good to go. 
“Ugh…so sticky…” you mumbled to yourself as you scratched at a mosquito bite you had gotten while outside. The sweat and humidity of being out in the woods was starting to get to you, and you couldn’t wait to take a decent shower the moment you stepped into the bathroom. 
Slowly slipping out of your clothes, you played around with the water temperatures until it was at the perfect temperature for you to get in. As you did however, you began to hear the light pitter patter of rain outside, chuckling to yourself as you imagined the distraught faces of your coworkers yelling in annoyance. ‘That’ll teach ‘em…’ you thought to yourself, squirting some shampoo into your palm. ‘Maybe next time they’ll listen to me when I say it’s gonna rain.’
You heard the distraught screaming of your coworkers in the distance and sighed with the pleasure of knowing you were right. Combing your hands through your scalp, you hummed to yourself before a particularly loud lightning strike boomed across the camp, startling you a bit as it came so suddenly and knocked all the power out.
‘Bzzzt.’
“…Dammit.”
You let out a sigh and quickly washed your head clean before grabbing a towel to dry yourself off. No way in hell were you going to shower in pitch dark blackness. It’s dangerous and plus, you were a little creeped out with being naked and alone in the dark.
“I swear, this camp is on its last wire…” you groaned, fumbling around for some clothes and putting them on as best as you can. You wanted to make sure some of your colleagues were alright and pushed open the door to your main cabin. “Is everyone okay—”
Your eyes widened when you saw that no one else was in your cabin. Your roommates were nowhere to be seen, and you thought they had gone inside already due to the rain. 
“…What the.” You fumbled around towards your backpack and grabbed the spare flashlight you had in there for emergencies. “Guys? You aren’t back yet?”
You flipped the flashlight on and shone it across the room. There weren’t any traces of your roommates even making it back to the cabin. No wet footprints, no shoes by the door, nothing. “Are they seriously still out there?” You groaned, grabbing one of your raincoats and putting it on. “I swear, if I have to be the one to check the power box…”
You frowned and checked outside the window to see if you could find anyone coming back from the lake. When all you saw were the empty campgrounds however, you started getting a bit worried, wondering if something happened to your colleagues while camping out by the lake.
‘Oh god…did someone get injured?’ You couldn’t help but grow curious and swallow any fear you had left, opening the door to head outside, and see if everyone was alright. The air had gone from humid to wet, as your body was instantly pelted with summer rain that had you wincing slightly in disgust. You just showered, and the feeling of going out in humidity again made your skin crawl with discomfort.
“Just a quick check…and then I’ll go back inside…” Your flashlight helped you see through the dark as you made your way down to the campfire by the beach. The flame was long extinguished by the time you got down there, as the only thing left was rising smoke, and a dozen empty chairs.
“…Guys?” The sight of the empty chairs made your skin crawl, taking note of how everyone’s stuff was still left scattered about. “Oh my god…”
You felt goosebumps litter your arms as you slowly shone your flashlight over the shore. It was dead quiet save for your breathing, and you slowly walked closer to the campsite only to stop dead in your tracks.
You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so bad you couldn’t believe what you saw was real. 
One of your coworkers was lying dead against the shore, her eyes wide open as blood seeped from a wound she acquired on her head. It was a deep, angry red gash that gushed so much blood you couldn’t even recognize her face, some of the rain sliding down her cheeks but unable to wash it fully. 
“Oh…god…” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Every instinct in your body told you to cry for help, but knowing that there was an active danger on the campgrounds, you decided to keep silent and quickly hid behind a large bush to stay away from the open. 
‘Crap…crap…crap…’ you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to will away the traumatic sight of your dead colleague. The image of her lifeless eyes making your stomach churn with anxiety as you took heavy breaths to calm yourself down. ‘This isn’t real…this can’t be real…’
You took another quick glance at the body and cursed yourself for looking once again. Your chest hurt from the fear you felt at that very moment, and you decided you had to call the authorities to the camp right away.
Slowly getting up from your hiding spot, you carefully made your way over to the generator building to see if you could fix the power. Since the power was down, you were unable to call the authorities until it somehow came back up again. Unfortunately for you however, you had no time to wait, and had to go manually check it yourself in order to get help. 
‘Why is it always me…’ you winced, hurriedly making your way over to the generators and trying to be as stealthy as possible. After a long trek through the woods, you finally came across the generators’ building in the far back side of the camp, the door cracked open slightly and swaying back and forth in the breeze.
Your heart stopped when you saw that someone had managed to get in, and although the most logical assumption would be that one of your colleagues had gone in to fix the power, you were too scared to check as you wondered if the killer that murdered your friend was in there. ‘I don’t want to take any chances…’ you thought, quickly backing away from the building and deciding to head back to your cabin to barricade yourself in. 
Whatever is happening on camp grounds can be dealt with by the police. You had to get yourself somewhere safe, and although you could always try to run for it, the camp was over ten miles away from the nearest town, a distance you couldn’t possibly cover in the dead of night, under the rain, and only in your PJs…
“I just need to hide until morning…or at least until the rain stops…” you mutter to yourself, finding your way back to your cabin and locking it up once you are safe inside. You decided the best course of action would be to barricade all your furniture against the door and check the bathroom window to see if it was locked. Not wasting another second, you ran over to your dresser and pushed your body up against it, slowly pushing it against the door in hopes of providing a stable barricade.
‘Alright, that should be enough for now…’ you wiped the sweat off your brow and walked over to the bathroom door, twisting the knob to check if the windows were locked. 
“…What the.” The door didn’t budge as you tried to push the door open, something heavy preventing you from opening the door. “Why won’t you…move—!”
With a bang, you shoved the door open, only to let out a shriek of terror as the body of one of your roommates fell out and landed at your feet. Her head had a nasty gash emitting blood from it, and the smell of iron quickly filled your nostrils which caused you to hunch over in nausea. “Oh…oh my god—!” You immediately backed up away from the sight, only to have your back collide with the front of someone very large and very tall…
Upon feeling someone firm right behind you, your entire body froze as fear paralyzed your brain. You could feel it. Someone behind you, someone who was in your cabin the whole time, as you failed to check all closets for the possibility of someone hiding.
“…Crap.” You let out a small squeak and gasped when the person behind you wrapped a broad arm around your waist, encircling you like the prey you were, and making you feel weak and helpless under their grasp. “…Please don’t hurt me, I…I…”
Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt a wet rag cover your mouth, your throat letting out several muffled screams, as the smell of something foreign entered your nose and knocked you out.
The last thing you felt before you blacked, was the feeling of strong arms hoisting you up into the air, and draping you over someone’s broad shoulders…
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You had no idea how much time had passed. Your head was throbbing, and your stomach was doing flips when you finally came to your senses. From what you could feel, you were on some mattress on the ground, located in some abandoned shed, as you realized you were somewhere not in your cabin…
Every inch of your body was sore from the chloroform, your senses all drugged up as you groggily looked around at your surroundings. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw a woman in the corner busy sharpening her machete, her back turned to you as she didn’t notice you waking up from your slumber. You had to get out of here, and if you could somehow sneak by the woman without her noticing, you could try and book it to the next town over, not caring about how long it took.
Taking a shallow breath, you were about to begin sneaking away, when the woman suddenly turned around and made dead eye contact with you.
What the fuck.
Adrenaline coursed through your entire body as you saw the woman’s appearance for the very first time. She was tall, accompanied by an athletic figure that hunched over you in a way that made you feel incredibly weak. What was most noticeable about her however, was the chipped, bloody hockey mask she wore to obscure her identity. Her breathing came out in ragged, heavy pants as she stared at you with the look of a predator ready to take its next prey.
“I…uh…” you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Fingers trembling the longer you stared. “I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done to anger you. I didn’t mean to discover the body…I just…I wanted to be safe…and…”
You squeaked when she leaned closer, her figure towering over yours as you had no choice but to lean back against the bed. She was so, so close, breathing heavily above you as all you could see was her hockey mask and her ridiculously shiny machete. “Ah…I’m sorry…” you meekly said again, tears beginning to spill out of your eyes and leak past your chin. “I don’t want to die now…I didn’t even get to start my job…”
You sniffed and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact of the machete hitting your face, only to grow confused when it never came.
“…Huh?”
Instead, what touched your face was the warm, gentle caress of the killer woman in front of you. Her large, calloused hands moving up to wipe your tears away, as she hushed for you to calm down with that quiet voice of hers.
“…Don’t cry.” She says in a muffled voice, leaning back to grab something from a jar. “Candy.”
She extends her hand out to you and holds out a little wrapped candy for you to take, acting all nonchalant as if she didn’t just brutally massacre your roommate right in front of you.
“…I, uh…”
Sensing your hesitance, the masked woman gently nudged the candy against your cheek. “Candy.” She repeated, tilting her head a little when you didn’t take it. “…Do you not like candy?” 
“Oh. Well…” you were growing confused at the escalating conversation, unsure if this was a trick or some kind of ploy to get you to trust her. “…Thank you?”
In the end, you decided to play along and take the candy offered from her hand. Seeing how you accepted her gift, she nodded and reached over to pat your head like a little puppy, clearly happy with the way you allowed her to treat you. Now that you are no longer crying, the masked killer stands up and goes back to sharpening her machete, leaving you alone and puzzling you once more with how gentle she was being in comparison to the other people. 
I mean, just a few hours ago she had brutally murdered most ��if not all— your coworkers in the camp you were supposed to work at. How is it that she was being so gentle with you now? Was there something special to you that made her become so lenient? 
“…” A deft silence overcame the two of you and you had no choice but to look around the shed in curiosity. Noticing a faded newspaper by your feet, you reached down to pick it up and read the blaring headline on the front.
“Kid drowns at Camp Crystal Lake due to negligent counselors.”
Your eyes widen slightly once you read it, your coworker’s faint recalling of the urban legend playing back on your mind. 
“A girl identified as Raiden Makoto was found dead after she drowned in Camp Crystal Lake waters. No lifeguards or counselors were seen at the time of the drowning, and she was confirmed dead due to negligence of Camp Crystal Lake staff.”
Besides the text was a faded photo of a young girl with long, purple, braided hair. She smiled so beautifully at the camera, so youthful and innocent. Her death was so abrupt, and you couldn’t help but feel bad as you realized the supposed urban legend was actually true.
…However, the longer you stared at the faded photo, the more you began to realize how similar she looked to the masked woman in front of you. That long, purple, braided hair matched the hair of the woman sharpening her machete, and you swallowed in realization of the discovery you had just made. 
“You’re…the kid who drowned all those years ago.” You say softly, looking up at the woman. “You’re Raiden Makoto.”
You could visibly see the woman tense up, slowly turning around to face you. With a few heavy footsteps, she walks over to you once more and shakes her head no, pointing at the girl in the photo.
“My sister.” Is all she says, looking down at you with that solemn expression.
“…Your sister?” Your eyes lit up and you suddenly felt a wave of guilt. “I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.”
The woman in front of you tilted her head slightly, as if comprehending the fact you actually felt sorry for her. “…It’s okay.” She says calmly, patting your head once more and taking the newspaper from your hands. “I got my revenge.”
Your eyes lit up when she said that, and the pieces slowly fell into place. 
“…So, that’s why you’ve been killing my coworkers.” Your breath trembled as full realization came to your senses. “You’ve been killing all the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake…for your sister…”
The masked woman nods slowly and kneels down in front of you so she could be eye level with your face. Your sense of fear was slowly dying down, and you couldn’t help but think the woman was a bit cute with the way she was presenting herself in front of you. “…Is there a reason you haven’t killed me?” You ask softly, keeping a level tone so you wouldn’t startle her. 
The woman nods once more, patting your head and lowering her gaze.
“You are nice.” She says calmly, rubbing the top of your head with her palm, “And responsible…and pretty…”
Your cheeks flushed a little when she called you pretty. 
“You think I’m pretty?” You asked gently.
The woman nods.
“Oh…” your face burns hotter at the compliment and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. “What’s your name, if I may ask?” 
“…Ei.” She says quietly, almost a bit hesitant with the way she paused. “Raiden Ei.”
“Ei…” the way you said her name sent shivers down her spine. The fact that her name was being uttered by a beautiful girl like you was enough to get the killer to swoon. “I like that name.”
Ei looked up at you with the most adoring of eyes. Even though her hockey mask covered up most of her expressions, you could tell you hit a soft spot with the way she looked at you with such loving eyes. 
“I like you.” She says calmly, leaning down to stare at you a bit closer, almost towering over you to the point she was pinning you to the bed. “…You are…sweet. Like candy.”
You unconsciously let out a small giggle at her words. Somehow you had forgotten she was an insane, brutal serial killer, but all that melted away with the way she looked at you so lovingly. “Can I…see your face?” You asked tenderly, hesitantly reaching a hand up to caress her blood-stained mask. Ei flinched a little when she felt you reaching for her mask, as she had never let anyone get so close to her without dying. She looked conflicted, silently panicking on what to do as she didn’t want to horrify you with her face and scare you off. 
Sensing her hesitance, you smiled comfortingly and cupped her mask. “I won’t judge you,” you say calmly, trying to soothe the woman’s fears and insecurities. “If you aren’t comfortable, I won’t pry it off you.”
As you moved your hand away however, you suddenly felt Ei’s hand wrap around yours, almost begging for you to come back. 
“W-Wait…” her voice cracked slightly and she shyly moves your hand back to rest on her mask. “I want…I want to…”
You blush at the way she’s calling for you, shakily moving your other hand to grasp at the back of her mask. Your breathing was quick and shallow, the position between you two a lot more intimate than what you were used to. “O…Okay…”
With a steady hand, you unclasped the back of her hockey mask and watched as it gently fell from her face. A gasp caught itself in your throat, as you admired the slasher’s face in all its bare beauty. 
Ei was beautiful. 
“You’re…quite the sight,” you chuckle softly, admiring the way her facial features glistened from the window of the shed. “Have you…never seen yourself before?”
Ei shakes her head no.
“That’s a shame.” You smile softly, reaching up to caress the surprisingly soft skin of her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”
Her breath hitches when you call her beautiful, and Ei can’t help but be drawn closer to you with the way you allured her. She had always admired you from afar when she was plotting your coworkers’ downfall, and to have you sitting there right in front of her was just too tempting to resist. 
Like a magnet, Ei takes a deep breath before slowly moving in to brush her lips against your face. When she sees you flinch but not back away, she takes it as a sign to keep going, wrapping a strong arm around your waist before slowly inching forward to claim what she desires.
She kisses you. Gently so while keeping you pressed firmly against her body with her strength, almost as if she were scared of letting you go. You were definitely surprised to say the least, the tall woman’s lips pushing roughly against you until you lost balance and fell over onto the bed. As your back hit the soft plushness of the mattress, Ei let out a small groan and climbed on top of you to continue kissing you, sloppily trying to slip her tongue in to taste you, before getting playfully pushed away by your soft little palms. 
“Hey, hey…” you chuckled softly, watching as her face scrunched up in confusion. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Ei bites her lip for a moment and hesitantly shakes her head no, causing you to stifle a laugh from your lips. “Pfft…don’t worry, I’ll show you,” you say reassuringly, holding onto one of her hands and cupping her fingers tenderly. “These are what you’ll be using most of the time when pleasing another woman.” You explain, running your fingers up and down hers. You took notice of how rough and calloused they were from working out in the woods, not to mention how big her fingers were compared to yours, as you couldn’t help but imagine her stuffing each wide digit inside you. 
‘That’s gonna need some prep…’ you thought to yourself, slowly moving her hand down so she could cup your breast. “Here. You want to do some foreplay on a woman before doing anything super intimate with her. Foreplay is important, as it— ahh…!”
Ei suddenly gave your breast a squeeze and started fondling it like instinct. If this was her first time being with a woman, you couldn’t tell, because she had already stuffed her hands under your shirt and started fondling you through the confines of your bra. 
“Haah…wait—!” You couldn’t help but let out a groan when she eagerly slid her hands under your bra, calloused fingers rubbing harshly against the sensitive buds of your nipples and twisting them in ways that had you gripping at her back. “I think…I can figure it out.” Was all Ei said before smirking down at you with confidence. That facade of acting all cute in front of you now long gone, as she was determined to wreck you on this little mattress of hers.
“W-Wait—! There’s no need to be so ro— mhnnn…!” Your head lolled back in pleasure when Ei suddenly yanked your shirt up and pulled your bra top down. Rough hands engulfing your chest to give it a firm squeeze, and pinning you down to the mattress with little to no effort. 
“Can I…Can I keep going?” Ei asks softly, a sharp contrast to the way she was brutally manhandling your tits. 
“You…nngh…I guess so…” you pathetically whimpered out, still in shock with how she managed to flip the roles so easily. 
At your approval, Ei nods and moves her head down to begin suckling dark hickies all over your stomach, tongue lapping over the smooth surface of your belly and making you whine with how rough she was treating you. It didn’t hurt by any means necessary, but you did feel your mind slowly break into submission for letting Ei use you as she pleased. ‘Crap…she’s so rough…’ you couldn’t help but think, letting out another whine when her hands suddenly gripped your thighs. 
“I need…I need more…” you hear Ei groan, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your shorts. “Can I pull them off? Please, please?”
She was almost grunting in your ear with how bad she wanted you, burying her face against your neck like a dog in heat. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever say no to her, so you nodded enthusiastically before cupping her face. “Go ahead, Ei. I’m all yours…just be gentle…”
Oh the look on Ei’s face when you told her you were hers. It was like a primal desire had awakened in her, as she tore off your shorts with little to no effort and hoisted your legs up to saddle around her shoulders. You let out a yelp when you felt her rip your shorts so violently, and you couldn’t help but whine to her since they were your favorite shorts.
“Ei…!” 
“I’ll…find you some new ones.”
She was clearly distracted with the way her eyes landed on your panties, licking her lips at the sight before looking up at you for one last request of permission. 
“May I…?” She asks quietly, the hunger glowing in her eyes with the way she so desperately wanted to devour you. 
“…Of course.” You say softly, taking a breather and lying back against the mattress. “Just promise to go slow, you have wide fingers…”
Ei smiles at this compliment before moving down to slide your panties up until they dangle at the ankle of your leg. Her mouth instantly waters at the sight of your exposed cunt, and she has to stop herself from just plunging her fingers inside you to feel how tight you’d be around her. 
‘Slow…’ she has to remind herself, pressing a large thumb over your clit. ‘Slow…’
She catches the way your lips part when she presses over your clit, and Ei can’t help but groan at the sight. She stares at the way your essence begins dripping out of your hole, and the more she plays with you, the more slick your pussy gets while she spreads your lower lips open. 
“Pretty…” you head Ei mumble, before gently easing one of her wide fingers inside you. “And t-tight…” She whimpers a little when she feels you squeeze so wonderfully around her, her groans growing more shallow as she eases her way inside of you. 
Ei’s fingers were wide, but definitely not as wide as you thought as one finger alone was enough to stretch you pretty far. Your hands were left clinging desperately to the woman’s broad shoulders, taking in sharp breaths to accommodate the large stretch of her giant fingers fucking you raw. “Ei…” you breathed out softly, burying your face into the skin of her neck, “Slower…please…”
Ei couldn’t help but pout a little at your words. Slower? You wanted her to go even slower? She wanted to fuck you as rough as she could, but she understood that a human as delicate as you needed some time to adjust to something of her size.
“Oh…okay…” Ei says softly, going at a much slower pace until she feels you growing more relaxed. “Is this good?”
You let out a few pleasured sighs of ecstasy, and nodded your head to show how good she was making you feel. “Yes, Ei.” You whispered softly, letting out a small moan when the tip of her finger pushed up against a certain spot. “This is good.”
Feeling proud of herself, Ei continues until she feels you are wet enough and decides to push a second finger in to see if you could take two at the same time. 
You could. And with the added pressure of a wider girth expanding your walls, you couldn’t help but buckle your knees and cling onto Ei more tightly. “Goodness, Ei,” you breathed out heavily, watching as her thick fingers sunk deep into you with every thrust and bounce, “For someone who hasn’t done this before, you certainly learn quickly…”
Ei smiles proudly when you compliment her sex skills, and decides to push her luck by shoving a third wide finger to see how much you could take. 
The moment you feel an added width to your already large pair of fingers, you feel your senses go into overdrive as she begins pounding all three fingers as deep as they could go. 
“E-Ei! Ei w-wait—!” You let out a whine as she continues fucking you with no other care in the world. While Ei definitely tried to go as slow as she could to appease your sensitivity, she eventually caved to her own carnal instincts and resorted to fucking you wild like a dog in heat. 
“Nngh…hnn…” With each wet thrust, Ei let out a grunt that had you dripping over the mattress, the palm of her hand slapping against your ass, as she brought you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. “Please be close…please…please…”
She moves her fingers harder against your cunt, before feeling you tense up around her fingers and cream all over her hand. The moans you let out were simply delectable, and Ei couldn’t help but groan in her own world of pleasure before pulling her fingers out to have a taste. 
As you recover from the intense orgasm you just had, Ei sticks her fingers into her mouth and licks your cum off her digits. The sight of such a tall, dangerous woman seductively sucking your cum off her fingers had you dripping wet once more, whining at the sight of her humming in pleasure before leaning down to kiss you. 
“Tasty…” Ei murmurs against your lips, the tall woman gripping your waist and pulling you down so that she was spooning you from behind. “You taste so good…”
You tried catching your breath as she wraps her arms around you and plants sweet kisses against the back of your head. The adrenaline and fatigue of tonight having finally caught up with you as you slowly felt your eyes drift close in the comfort of your new lover’s arms. 
“Are you…going to stay with me now…?” Ei asks softly, brushing your hair back and staring at you with the sweetest of eyes. You gazed up at her with a half lidded smile, the deaths of your coworkers no longer a matter to you as you only needed Ei in your life and Ei alone. 
“I’ll stay.” You say sleepily, enjoying the way Ei held onto you and snuggled you deeper against her chest. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving anytime soon.”
Ei smiled at this and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your recently shampooed hair, before closing her eyes and mumbling. 
“Good.”
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rikosseen · 2 months ago
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Taehoon Seong x Reader: Day trip
Anon request
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Taehoon really thought that amongst the most annoying people he’s ever known, Hobin was unmatchable. However, as he’s sitting at the back of the van with you sleeping soundly on his shoulder, Dabin is mockingly making kissy faces while Minji is suppressing her giggles. Worse still, the dads are completely indifferent to the spectacle—in fact, they’re encouraging Dabin. And Taehoon swears he sees his own old man grinning like a monster.
Fuck.
What he wants to do more than anything right now, is to kick their smug faces. But he can’t really do that- with you next to him, and with how cramped it is.
Dabin is cackling at how Taehoon’s eyes are bulging out of his eye sockets, and she can’t help feeling amused when he stiffens as you stir in your sleep.
.
The campsite overlooks a valley of mountains, and in usual circumstances, the view would have been enough to relax just about anyone. That’s unfortunately not the case for Taehoon. Even on a day where he’s meant to be enjoying himself, the man can feel nothing but irritation and anger. Why did he agree to tag along on this trip again? Who’s dumb ass thought this was a good idea?
Fuck. That’s right. You. You did.
Taehoon watches you in betrayal as Dabin and Minji get all up in your personal space, giggling about who knows what. You’re playfully slapping them, and pinching their cheeks, snickering along.
That should be me.
The girls are doing nothing to help. He’s the only one carrying wood. He’s the only one putting up the tents.
Lazy bastards. -Thoughts not directed toward you, of course.
As Taehoon slams the wood he’s been carrying on the ground, Dabin catches his eye, and a devilish smirk forms on her lips. She’s tugging you at the waist while putting up her middle finger. Couldn’t be you, she mouths.
And a vein pulses on Taehoon’s face. He brushes his hands, and begins stomping toward you three. When he reaches where you are, he slaps Dabin away from you, protectively pulling you by his side. Dabin, being the absolute unit that she is, shoves Taehoon aside, and takes your free arm. The two begin to banter, playing tug of war, and you swear your arm is about to rip off.
“How dare you push a woman?!” Dabin snaps.
“Equal rights, equal fights, bitch,” Taehoon sneers.
“You think you own them? Asshole”
“I didn’t say that, dipshit.”
“This shit’s never gonna happen. Me and them would make a better couple anyway,” Dabin is furiously grasping onto Taehoon’s expression like it’s her only source of entertainment.
“What the fuck did you say?”
Before they can continue arguing, Minji steps in to pull you away from the two.
“C’mon, stop riling him up,” she says, giving Dabin a disapproving look.
.
Later that night, as everyone gathers around the campfire to toast marshmallows, Taehoon finally musters the courage to step away and retrieve a small gift— one he’d been saving for all day, despite his nervousness that you might not like it. But when he returns, he finds his spot occupied with Dabin, who has her arm wrapped around you with a triumphant grin plastered on her face. And when she sees Taehoon approaching, she sticks her tongue out mockingly.
This bitch.
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sethsclearwater · 10 months ago
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Hi again!! Loved the Paul head-canon it was EXACTLY how I imagined ittt.
I have a head canon for Seth! If reader was in a pouty/stubborn mood he would definitely be doing anything and everything to make her laugh or even just a tiny smile. 100%!
Like say they’re at a campfire and she’s in a pouty mood and everyone around her obviously notices, he’d be bringing marshmallows to toast and everything (since he’s such a sweetheart) and eventually she’d crack. I meannn who could resist Seth??
-⭐️
this man has my whole heart😭
...
by now the entire pack was well aware that you were not to be fucked with. on the way to the pack's near weekly bonfire at first beach, you and kim had managed to be the butt end of one of jared's never-ending pranks which led to you both getting absolutely soaked by emily's garden hose.
while kim went off on jared for fucking up her hair, seth had quickly found you and pulled you aside so he could swap clothes with you. you weren't entirely sure what made him make that decision but now he was wearing your sweatshorts that were definitely too short for him while you wore his t-shirt and sweatpants that were definitely too big for you.
in your grumpiness, you had plopped down in the sand next to emily and sam who were lost in their own world with each other. you leaned back against one of the many pieces of driftwood while you pouted over your undergarments and hair still being soaked. seth couldn't have minded though, not wasting anytime before he was striding over to you, a golden smile on his face and what looked like all the ingredients to make s'mores in his hands.
you were pretty close to breaking but held up a strong front, arms crossed over your chest with a pout on your face as he came and sat down on the log behind you so he could sit with you between his legs.
he didn't say anything, just sliding one hand over your shoulder to gently massage at the muscle there while he figured out how to get a marshmallow impaled on a stick with his other hand. seth knew how to read you by now and was well aware that asking you what was wrong would only add fuel to the fire so he remained quiet as he successfully impaled the marshmallow and handed the stick to you.
"can you hold this for a sec?" he asked, giving your shoulder another gentle squeeze when you hummed and nodded, still not too interested in talking.
while you held the marshmallow over the fire, seth snapped the graham cracker and chocolate in half with his free hand, the other one still dutifully massaging your shoulder. after a few moments, you allowed your shoulders to drop, letting out a soft sigh as you let yourself lean back into him, resting your head against his thigh.
seth slid his hand up to your hair, gently scratching your scalp and stroking his fingers through your hair while you two silently waited for the marshmallow to toast.
once you both decided it was brown enough, seth slid his free hand over yours, taking the stick from you so he could assemble your s'more for you. you weren't entirely sure how he managed to do it all with one hand but you weren't too concerned, instead basking in the warmth of the fire while seth's fingers continued to work wonders on your scalp.
"for my pretty girl," seth mused after a moment, beaming as he handed you his perfected s'more. you couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips.
you took the s'more from him, sitting up so you could peek over your shoulder and look up at him. he was sporting a soft smile despite the fact that you knew he definitely had to be uncomfortable with the way your soaked shorts were clinging to him, "thank you," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the wet fabric which had seth letting out a breathy laugh.
"anything to make my pretty girl feel better," he mused, leaning down to press a kiss to your hair, "now can we get outta here? i'm pretty sure i ripped these when i sat down," he said, both of you laughing when you realized how uncomfortable he definitely was.
"yes please," you laughed, allowing him to take your free hand and help you up while you held the s'more with the other, more than happy to snack on it on the short drive back to your apartment.
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iamgonnagetyouback · 4 months ago
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Could I request "Why do you always make the best s'mores? What's your secret?" And "You’ve been pretending to be okay, but you don’t have to with me." With Charlie Dalton? 😊
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆
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The campfire crackled softly, casting a dim, wavering light over the small group huddled in silence. It was quieter than usual—no laughter, no playful jabs—just the sound of burning wood and the occasional rustle of leaves in the dark. Charlie Dalton sat across from you, his usual smirk nowhere to be found. He held a marshmallow over the fire, though he wasn’t paying much attention to it, staring into the flames as if they might burn away the heaviness that had settled over everything.
You hesitated, then broke the silence. “You always make the best s’mores, you know that?” You tried to inject a bit of the usual lightness into your voice, but it came out softer than you intended. "What's your secret?"
Charlie’s eyes flicked to you, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It was tired, strained. “Guess I’ve just had a lot of practice,” he muttered, turning the marshmallow slowly. “You focus on something long enough, you get good at it. Even if it’s just… roasting sugar.”
You watched him for a beat, then leaned in a little, searching his face. “Charlie… come on. It’s me. You don’t have to pretend right now.”
His grip tightened on the stick, and for a moment, you thought he might deflect, throw out some cocky remark, anything to dodge the truth. But instead, he sighed, long and low, and shook his head. “Pretending’s kind of all I’ve got left.”
The weight of those words settled between you like another log on the fire, and you felt your chest tighten. It was so unlike him to admit that, to let that crack show in his armor. Charlie had always been the one who kept things light, who made everything a game, even when life was anything but.
“Charlie,” you said quietly, “you don’t have to keep it together for us. For me. Not after everything…”
He flinched at that. You didn’t have to say Neil’s name. His absence was loud enough.
“I know that,” he said, his voice rougher than before, the cracks showing now. “I know I don’t have to. But I don’t know how to… not.” He looked up at you, and for the first time in a long while, he looked like he didn’t have the answers, like he didn’t know how to keep juggling everything. “I’ve always been the guy who could laugh it off, you know? The guy who made everything a joke. I thought if I could do that, it’d be easier. For all of us. For me. But now…”
He trailed off, staring down at the marshmallow, now charred and blackened on one side. He didn’t seem to care.
You shifted closer, your voice soft but steady. “It’s okay if you’re not okay. None of us are.”
He chuckled, but it was bitter, without any of the usual warmth. “Yeah, well, someone has to be, right? We can’t all fall apart.”
You shook your head. “We can, though. You don’t have to carry all of it.”
Charlie blinked, as if the idea was foreign to him, like it hadn’t even crossed his mind that he could drop the act for once. The firelight reflected in his eyes, but they were dim, lost in thought.
“Neil was…” He stopped, swallowing hard before continuing. “Neil was supposed to be the dreamer, you know? The one who got away from all this.” His voice cracked, and he quickly looked away, like he didn’t want you to see how much that hurt him. “And I— I didn’t even see it. I thought… I thought he was fine, just like I pretend to be.”
You reached out, lightly touching his arm. “Charlie, none of us saw it. Don’t put that on yourself.”
His jaw clenched, and he looked down at your hand, then up at you. For a moment, his bravado was completely gone, and all that was left was Charlie—raw, vulnerable, hurting. “I don’t know what to do without him,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to keep going.”
“You don’t have to have all the answers,” you said softly. “You just have to let yourself feel it. Let yourself be sad, or angry, or whatever you need to be.”
Charlie closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, as if trying to steady himself. When he opened them again, there was something different in them—still pain, but also a kind of acceptance.
“I don’t know if I know how to do that,” he admitted. “I’ve been pretending for so long, I don’t even know what real feels like anymore.”
You squeezed his arm gently. “Then we’ll figure it out together. You don’t have to do it alone.”
For the first time that night, Charlie really looked at you, and the smallest, realest smile broke through the sadness. “Thanks,” he said quietly. "I… I don't deserve you."
“You deserve more than you think,” you replied, your voice gentle but sure. “We all do.”
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bambisspeckles · 4 months ago
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Backyard Campfires ✿ Flufftober Day Seven -- Johnny
Summary: Johnny sets up a campfire in your backyard! WC: 738 <3 Song of the day: Loving Machine ❁ TV Girl
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"Johnny!" You squeal, stumbling over your (and his) feet as you blindly let him lead to… somewhere, you're not quite sure where.
When you arrived home, Johnny ambushed you at the entryway, placing his hand over your eyes and dragging you through the house.
"Johnny!" you repeat again, remints of giggles in your words. "What are you doing?"
"Leadin' ye tae yer surprise hen, wha' else would I be doin?" You groan at his teasing which makes he chuckle.
"Um, I don't know. Maybe you're- Ouch! Johnny be careful!" You whine as your shoulder bumps up against the corner of a wall. He winces, mumbling an apology before placing a quick kiss to your cheek.
You hear a door open in front of you and Johnny giggles like a child. He takes his hand off your eyes and the sight your met with has to be one of the most absurd, yet sweet, thing he's done to date.
"Ta-da!" He gestures excitedly at the set up in your yard. "Set up a little campsite for ye! Do ya like it lass? Took me all bloody day."
You press a soft kiss to his lips, your lips curled into a smile at his child-like excitement.
"It's wonderful! You did all this for me?" His cheeks flush a bit as he beams with pride.
"Aye… Well part of it is for me but…" You place your hand on your heart in mock offense at his words before playfully shoving him.
"Way to ruin the moment asshole!" You joke and he leans down to kiss your forehead as a silent apology.
He gestures to the setup once more, his bright smile still slapped on his face.
"Shall we bonnie?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you jovially.
"We shall!"
He grabs your hand, leading you over to the little fire pit and tent and the excitement in his voice as he rambles about the preparations has your heart swelling. He has always been so thoughtful. He lets you get settled on the little picnic blanket he set out before starting up the fire. The warmth was a welcome reprieve from the biting fall air and once it's lit he sits down and makes sure to pull you close.
"Warm 'nough hen?" The gravel of his voice making your spine tingle.
"Mhm… Very." He smiles at your words, content that your comfortable.
"I have another surprise for ye…" He whispers cheekily, his lips brushing the shell of your ears.
He lets you go for a moment, turning around to rummage through a bag you didn't even know was there. When he turns back around he's holding a box, a couple of bags, and two metal sticks.
"S'more supplies! Cannae ave' a proper campfire without s'more can ye?" You giggle at his words.
"No, I suppose you can't." You watch him affectionately as he quickly preps all your ingredients, more than happy to let him take over.
After a few more moments he hands you one of the metal sticks with a marshmallow stuck through it. You accept it gratefully, pressing a kiss to his nose before murmuring out a soft 'thank you.' You both sit there in silence for a while, enjoying the peace and listening to the sounds around you. You're once again cozied up against Johnny, the both of you toasting your marshmallow, watching the way the fire flickers and crackles.
"Johnny." You say softly.
He turns his head towards you, his eyes tracing your features as the fire illuminates your skin.
"Yeah lass?" He asks, his voice just as soft as yours.
"Thank you, this is really nice." You lean closer to his face, closing the distance between you so you could press a long kiss to his lips.
Johnny groans, dropping his s'more stick somewhere on the blanket so he can grab your hips and pull you into his lap. You squeal, attempting to pull your lips from his but he doesn't allow it, so you succumb to his will and let you kiss him for as long as he wants. Eventually, he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, the both of you panting quietly as you try and catch your breath.
"You're gonna have to wash this blanket Sargent." You say in a mock serious voice. He laughs at you, nipping gently at your bottom lip.
"Aye Cap, I'll make sure I get to it.'"
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fiona-fififi · 7 months ago
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Please may I have "Your hands are warm."?
Picture me asking like this btw
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Well, this took me absolutely forever, but here's a silly little something that is basically just exclusively Buckley-Diaz family fluff. I know this probably is not what you had in mind, but this is where it took me. Hopefully, it's something. 💚
Title: Warmth
Rating: G
Fandom: 9-1-1
Pairing: Evan Buckley/Eddie Diaz
Summary: A tiny little fluffy snapshot of a Buckley-Diaz family camping trip and a chilly night out by the campfire. (Just fyi, the whole camping thing is mostly just vibes, I never actually really incorporated it in any significant way.)
Notes: The prompt "Your hands are warm" is from this list of Dialogue and “Scenario” Prompts.
Buckley-Diaz family, established relationship, fluff, ficlet, prompt fill
Read on Ao3
“Mmm, stay?” Eddie requests, snuggling down into the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and nuzzling into Buck's touch. “Your hands are warm.”
Buck chuckles at that, shifting his hands from Eddie's neck to cup his jaw and tilt his chin back gently, leaning over until they're practically nose to nose. “Don't you think maybe it's time to head inside? You're freezing.”
“Can't,” Eddie teases, grinning up at him with that silly smile Buck adores, “Chris isn't ready to head in yet.”
“Do not drag me into this,” Christopher argues from his spot by the fire. When Buck glances up at him, he is very obviously avoiding even a glance in their direction, and Buck can't help but snort a laugh.
“Your excuse just sold you out,” Buck teases, fingers still against Eddie's jaw. Eddie grins, big and goofy, and Buck can't help but tilt his chin back a little further until he can press a kiss to that pretty mouth.
“Mmm,” Eddie murmurs through a grin as they part, lips so close they brush Buck's as he speaks, “your lips are warm, too.” Buck huffs a laugh against Eddie's mouth at that as Eddie's grin grows and Buck tries to turn it back into a kiss, even as they both succumb to ridiculous giggles. 
“Ew.” Christopher's voice breaks their spell, the disgust dripping from his tone written all over his face in the scrunch of his nose and the grimace of his mouth. “NO.” He commands, as he launches a marshmallow at Eddie's head in response to their sappy display. It nails him directly in the nose, bouncing off both of them before it falls to their feet.
Eddie and Buck both only manage to dissolve into further giggles in response, Buck's shoulders shaking enough that he has to bury his face in the crook of Eddie's neck to keep himself upright. 
Christopher groans in annoyance and rolls his eyes. “Next time, I'm staying home,” he threatens, with a shake of his head, before he busies himself loading another marshmallow onto the roasting stick in his hand.
Buck barks a laugh at that, forever charmed by Christopher's teasing. “Oh, please, you're having a ball,” he counters, all smiles and red cheeks from some combination of the chill in the air and the warmth in his chest.
“I was until you started making out in front of my marshmallows,” Christopher shoots back, face serious as stone.
Buck full-body cackles in response, throwing his head back and straightening up in the process, and Christopher's face breaks into a grin at that.
Eddie grumbles, Buck's warmth suddenly too far away, and tugs at his arms to bring him closer again. Buck grins, a big, happy smile that stretches wide as he lets Eddie guide him back until he's draped over Eddie's shoulders, and Eddie's wrapping Buck's arms up under the blanket he's still cozied up under. Buck gives him a squeeze, and Eddie lets a hand grip tight to Buck's forearm, leaning back into him with a pleasant shiver. Buck presses a surreptitious little kiss to Eddie's temple, soft smile still dancing on his mouth. 
“Okay, kid,” Buck announces after a few pleasant moments of quiet snuggling, keeping himself draped around Eddie, “finish that one up, and then it's time to head inside. Don't want your dad to freeze.”
Christopher gives him a side eye, but he's very clearly trying to hide a grin, and Buck can't help the way his heart swells at just how well they all fit. He's not sure he'll ever get over just how much happiness their little family brings him.
Eddie, always the mind reader, squeezes his arm again to draw his attention, and when Buck shifts to meet his gaze, Eddie is giving him that soft smile Buck loves so much. “I love you,” Eddie mouths, barely any sound to avoid a scolding from Christopher, and Buck's own smile turns soft again for Eddie as he leans in to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
“Love you, too,” Buck promises, whisper quiet, nuzzling back into Eddie's warmth as they watch Christopher continue to pretend to ignore them.
Buck's not sure he's ever been happier. 
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sleepytokenii · 1 month ago
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These Ancient Canopies (SFW)
gn!reader x sleep token members (fluff) (headcanon) Word count: 1324
Description:
It’s august. It’s a hot and sunny day, however there’s a cool breeze to take the edge off a little. The guys arranged for you to go with them on a spontaneous camping trip for a few nights in the middle of a beautiful ancient forest.
Vessel:
o Drives your group to the campsite, checks everyone in at the reception desk, and ensures you have the perfect spot.
o Packs extra marshmallows just for you two to share when everyone’s gone to bed.
o Offers to build the tent himself, places a camping chair down next to your tent for you to laugh at him from whilst he cocks it up.
o He has brought the biggest tent he could find to share with you, so you can bring your home comforts. Surprises you with a body length hot water bottle to keep you warm.
o Sings hauntingly beautiful songs under the canopy of trees whilst you all sit around the campfire drinking hot chocolate, all wrapped up in blankets and beanies.
o When it’s time for bed, he fills your hot water bottle with freshly heated water, and pulls you in for a snuggle to share the heat. Your large duvet is a perfect touch, but nothing beats the warmth Vessel radiates.
o In the morning, he wakes you up to soft fluttery kisses on your cheek as he hums a soft melody, stroking your head gently.
o Makes you breakfast in bed and gives you time to get up and ready for the day.
o Organises a couple’s activity away from the rest of the guys for some 1-on-1 time.
II:
o Hops out of the van first and holds his hand out to help you out, carefully watching you to make sure you don’t fall.
o Brings matching Oodies for you both, much to the amusement of the rest of the group. You look forward to the cosiness.
o Gets frustrated when the poles of the tent come out of their socket, but accepts your help gratefully when you notice his frustration.
o Taps along on a log he is sitting on whilst Vessel sings around the campfire. The vibes are immaculate.
o Whispers sweet nothings in your ear every so often, making you feel all warm and gooey inside.
o He doesn’t want to ask, but smiles and nods when you ask if he wants to be little spoon.
o Holds your hands close to his chest as you fall sleep curled up against each other. Peppers your hands with light kisses to comfort you.
o Wakes you up with “good morning beautiful, how did you sleep?” and hands you a steaming cup of tea/coffee with a biscuit whilst he sips on his can of red bull.
o Takes you on a romantic walk through the forest with a little picnic he arranged with the on-site restaurant. Brings a picnic blanket and some fresh juice to sip on with a view overlooking the most stunning landscape. You’re made to feel like royalty.
III:
o Cannot wait to get out of the van and give you a big bear hug, as if he hadn’t just snoozed with his head on your shoulder for the last half an hour of the journey.
o Does a lil boogeywoogey when he finishes putting up the tent, feeling proud of himself for beating the others. You give him a round of applause and he takes a bow with a smirk.
o Enjoys walking down to the little stream with you to collect sticks and any other kindling he could find for the fire. Doesn’t let you carry too much, he doesn’t want you to hurt yourself or trip.
o Walks around the forest with a ‘lil basket collecting any mushrooms he stumbles across…for um…tea? Yeah we’ll go with that.
o Brings a blanket to the campfire to lay on, allowing you to lie with him and cuddle whilst listening to the melodies coming from Vessel’s lips.
o Carries you back to the tent because you’re too sleepy to walk. Tucks you up into bed and gives you a long kiss on the lips, before leaving to head back to the guys for a while longer.
o You wake up first, this man can sleep forever. His short, dyed blonde hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. Your giggle causes him to stir in his sleep, hand reaching out to find your warm waist and pulls you back into him. You fall back asleep with your ear against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
o Your eyes flutter open again, III’s fingertips gently running up and down your spine. Goosebumps rise all over your body, your head feeling slightly dizzy from the contact.
o III tries his best to make you an omelette, but fails miserably and ends up just making you scrambled eggs, calling them ‘fancy.’ Keeps asking you “do you like it?” with adorable puppy dog eyes. How could you say no?
o Whilst everyone is chilling in a circle at the camp, III finds himself climbing a tree to get the perfect vantage point, before throwing little twigs and pebbles towards you guys. A child at heart, honestly.
IV:
o Carries your duffel bag in one hand, a crate of beer in the other. “Gotta stay hydrated, yano?” he winks and laughs. You roll your eyes and flash him a smile.
o Drapes his favourite leather jacket over your shoulders when it gets dark and cold, adamant its fine, despite your worry that it’ll stink of campfire smoke.
o Tells crude jokes around the campfire, in an attempt to hopelessly flirt with you. Your head falls back as you belly laugh. He smiles, loving to see you happy.
o Brings his guitar of course, you bet your ass he’s serenading you as he performs with Vessel and II. The atmosphere is truly alive.
o Lots. Of. PDA. IV loves showering you in kisses and will be holding your hand or waist at any time he can, stroking your sensitive skin. He is always warm to the touch so you welcome it happily.
o Holds open the tent ‘door’ for you when you go to bed. Whilst you snuggle under the covers, he gives you a long, passionate kiss before stroking your face. “I am so in love with you, you make my life worth living” IV admits, causing you to blush and slam your lips together once more. When you finally separate, you confess your mutual love.
o The next morning he enters the tent with a bag of fresh pastries from the campsite restaurant, smiling widely as he says “Good morning my love, I brought you a little gift, how did you sleep?” with a kiss on your head. Your heart has never felt fuller. How did you get so lucky?
o IV leads you to believe you’re going for a romantic stroll in the forest, but soon turns off the path and leads you down to none other than a tree tops course! As someone who loves being an adrenaline junkie, your grin beams at him. He blushes, knowing he’d done well at picking the activity. You’re tugging on his arm to hurry him up, but he stops in his tracks. “Don’t get too excited and use up all your energy now, save it for the zipwire at the end!” he winks. You squeal and run ahead as he laughs behind you.
o Buys two copies of the video the company captured of you both going down the zipwire. IV enjoyed the view, making the odd sarcastic comment. “oh…BYE THEN!” He shouts then giggles as you fly past him screaming. When you finally get back on the ground, he cuddles you as an attempt to stop your jelly legs from giving in. He kisses you on your head, telling you how proud he is of you for doing such an activity.
-
A/N – Hey!! I think this is the first time I’ve had enough creative juices to write since I was what…16?! (24 now)
I really hope you enjoyed whatever this is, I still don’t know the name for the format haha. If you did like, and would like to read more in future, please feel free to show it some love! (or don’t, I won’t force you) <3
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awanderingmuse-fandom · 3 months ago
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Off The Marshamallow Stick and Into the Campfire
Chapter 32
Fandom: Outer Wilds
Summary: The light of the exploding singularity is brighter than anything Obsidian has ever imagined. Breathtaking as a spark of hope when they thought everything was lost. Obsidian would know, they’d worn that feeling like a  second skin, loop, after loop, after loop. The feeling still holds them even as pure light, pure possibility, consumes them. Then, nothing. 
Obsidian wakes up…
Rating: Teen
Warnings:  Major Character Death, severe injury, trauma, Existentialism, aftermath of trauma, alcohol use, references to suicide, mentions of substance abuse
Characters: Player Character (Obsidian), Gabbro, Hal, Gossan, Marl, Gneiss, Chert, Hornfels, Riebeck, Slate, Esker, Feldspar, Porphy, Rutile, Micha
Tags: Aftermath of the End of The Universe, Cannon Continuation, Gabbro didn’t just sit on Giant’s Deep the whole time, Player Character and Gabbro are friends, Science Compels Us to Explore the Multiverse, everyone lives kinda, things I wish the game let happen, liberties taken with in game timeliness and mechanics for easier write-a-bility, physics, metaphysics, fluff, hurt comfort, slice of life, Multiple POV, Tragedy, Character Death, Echoes of Eye Spoilers, Suicide Attempt, Adventure, Substance Abuse, No Beta We Die Like the Universe, A Bit of Prose for Flavor, All the writers and artists in this Fandom are amazing and y'all gave me brain rot
Chapter Preview
They follow the familiar path through the caves, past the Angler Fish Fossil Overlook, and into the city itself. The city is what it has always been, a giant cavern with buildings hidden in the alcoves, all revealed to them when they turn on the lights.  The sand isn’t quite low enough for them to follow the path to the High Energy Lab. So, they make themselves comfortable by the trees. Obsidian takes some time to read and document the text that is there for Hornfels.  “Still the same.” They inform Gabbro after making their notes. “At first glance it all kind of looks the same.” Gabbro says, sipping their tea.
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qtubbo · 1 year ago
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Morning crew and eggs going camping, and Tubbo starts setting up all the tents with the kids, getting them to do little tasks in a fun way, promising to take care of them while Fit and Pac take a hike. He tells the kiddos that they're canoodling out in the woods, in a jokingly spiteful tone. Ramon and Empanada punch him in the arm, till they all have a giggle fit. Fit and Pac genuinely are just having a walk before they find a lake, and they sit by the shore. Pac jumps into the water fully clothed once he finds a deep zone to cannonball; Fit laughs a bit before taking off his shirt and heading in to join him.
They get back hours later than they meant to, heading back to camp and seeing everyone just roasting marshmallows by the campfire. Ramon and Tubbo are trying to teach Empanada and Sunny how to roast marshmallows without burning themselves. Richas instead trying to subtly melt marshmallows, to put in Tubbo’s hair. Pac and Fit go to sit around the fire, with Pac taking a squirming Richas into his arms, pressing him to his chest, and rambling about how much he missed him. Ramon going to lean on Fit’s side, pushing under his arm a little bit, just enough to block the chilly winds.
Tubbo set up two tents so they could all sleep with their kids, but when Tubbo tries to set up his spot, Fit and Pac start goading him into sleeping between them. Giggling away about how Morning Crew has to stick close, and how Tubbo is like their Jesus. Then the eggs pile in, all their blankets covering the whole tent. Everyone sleeps safe and warm together.
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bchan95 · 8 months ago
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Campfire (Bang Chan x Y/N)
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Chan could still see specks of her dark brown eyes over the bright flames in front of him. He takes a drink of his water and sighs to himself as he watches your eyes crinkle as she giggles at something his friend says. You playfully shove him and your cheeks burn as bright as the light in front of you.
He knows that this shouldn't upset him. He should be happy that his friends are getting along, but he couldn't help but feel the anxiety bubble up in his chest.
Changbin lightly shoves him on his left, pulling him from his trance. His friend has a smirk pulled across his face and Chan rolls his eyes, really hoping that his friend doesn't say what he thinks he will.
"When are you going to tell her?"
Chan's forehead scrunches as he downs another drink of water. He thinks about it for a minute before responding.
"What are you talking about?"
"Don't play stupid, Chan."
He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes darting back over to the two in front of him. Their giggles had settled, and you were focused on the roasting marshmallow in front of you. The side of his lip curls upward as he watches your face contort into a focused stare, your tongue peering out of your mouth as you twist the stick.
Your eyes meet his for a moment and a soft smile replaces that struggle. He smiles back, hoping that on your end you can't see the way that goosebumps rose up on his forearms. He shoots you a wink and then looks back over at his friend, trying to steady his heartbeat.
"I will... I just..."
Changbin sighs, placing a hand on Chan's shoulder "You gotta have more confidence dude," his eyes jet over to you and then back to him. "It's clear she's interested... and I know you are... so just don't let fear hold you back."
Chan sighs, nodding as Changbin stands. His bandmate walks toward the cabin behind them. He lets the silence overtake the conversation for a moment before he feels a presence next to him again.
He turns to see you smiling, a s'more in your hand and chocolate on the corner of your lip. He giggles as you hold it out to him like an art project. He nods, clapping for you. You fake a bow and take another bite.
"Y/N," He starts, meeting your eyes again. You look over at him wide-eyed.
His hand lifts to meet the corner of your smile, wiping the sweet residue from your cheek. He can't help but smile as he sees a light pink tint to your cheeks at his touch. He wipes his hand off on his jeans and looks back at you.
"There, perfect."
You hold eye contact for a moment as you slowly chew your treat and he watches you carefully. After a few moments of quiet, you speak softly.
"Channie, do I still have something on my face again?"
He shakes his head, leaning in toward you. He heard a little gasp and smiled brightly before bringing a hand up to graze your cheek. Your eyes widened at the touch, opening your mouth to speak.
Chan stopped you by pressing his lips to yours, making you almost drop your s'more. You melted into his touch, feeling your lips move together for a few moments in the quiet.
When you both pulled away, cheeks and lips burning, you looked down at your hand. You help up the crunched square to him with a smile.
"I am not trying to complain..." You started with a giggle. "But if I would have dropped this, it would have been your first and last kiss."
He laughed, moving his hand to your thigh and staying close to you. You take another bite and then offer it to him. He chews it slowly, watching as you beam at him.
"Well," he starts with a smirk pulling at his lips. "Since it was still in tact..."
You giggle, leaning in and letting him pull you back in for another soft kiss in the firelight.
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liillyliilly · 7 months ago
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Marshmallow Madness
bokuto koutarou x reader words; 1482 synopsis; Marshmallows are one way to lift Bokuto Koutarou’s mood. The other being Y/n, but what happens when the two get mixed?
Fukurodani celebrates almost all of their special occasions with a campfire and s’mores.
Y/n has always been fond of the little tradition, since it was a way to connect with the team members of the volleyball club outside of school and volleyball matches.
Seeing as it was Bokuto’s birthday, everyone decided to get together and spend the night in his backyard roasting marshmallows and sharing their favorite stories of Bokuto. Y/n sat in her camp chair, soaking in the warm fire and the presence of her closest friends.
Laughter was floating around in the air like a perfume made of happiness. Y/n sipped on her hot chocolate and let the dense milk chocolate coat her throat in a soothing manner. Closing her eyes for a moment before opening them, slightly surprised to see Bokuto standing in front of her. When she jumped slightly, Bokuto chuckled before using his left thumb to wipe away the small whipped cream mustache that Y/n had grown after drinking some of her liquid confidence.
“You had a little something on your face.” Bokuto explained before falling down into the chair next to Y/n, which only made her heart race further. The way her heart hit her own chest was like some kind of self-punishment for having a crush on Bokuto Koutarou. But before she could even wish him a happy birthday, Bokuto hopped out of the seat and ran off to go talk with some of the other Fukurodani volleyball team members.
How could a teenage boy be so suave? But especially a teenage boy who was known for going into an 'emo' mood when things didn't go his way. She begged for the universe to make more sense. She begged her heart to see the logical fallacy, that Bokotu's behavior wasn't smooth but rather rather clumsy and geeky. Who was she fooling?
As a sort of teasing exchange, Bokuto had his hair pulled into two pigtails on either side of his head, and Akaashi had a pair of marker eyebrows drawn on to make him look angry. So, everyone couldn’t help but giggle when Akaashi turned around to ask a question.
“Anyone want the last s’more?” Akaashi waved the treat around on a plate as if he was offering up a sacrifice to the heavens. Y/n raised her hand lightly, before shrugging and giving an offhanded statement of how she hadn’t had one yet.
Munching on the dry graham cracker, silky chocolate, and spongy marshmallow, Y/n realized that this was the best s’more she had ever had. Licking her lips and smiling, she stood up and walked over to the campfire to compliment Akaashi on his expert s’more making skills when Bokuto started rambling.
“AKAASHI!!! Did you save that s’more for me like I asked? I’m ready for it now.” Bokuto giddily moved from side to side as he awaited a prize that would never come along. Y/n felt all the color out of her face drain. And suddenly the s’more in her mouth turned to solid rock as she tried to figure out what to do next. Swallowing what remained of the dessert, Y/n pressed her lips into a straight line and tried not to slink away from this confrontation.
“Um, Bokuto, about your s’more. Akaashi gave it to me.” Y/n clasped her hands behind her back. Bokuto slumped his shoulders, before perking back up again. The way the fire’s orange light glowed on him made him look like he was painted with streaks of pure sunlight.
If her eyes were shining with hearts, she's grateful that no one made a comment on it.
“Hey, it's okay, you can just help me find where I put the extra bag of marshmallows inside my house.” Without a second thought Bokuto dragged Y/n into his house. While Bokuto scrambled around opening and then slamming cupboard doors closed, Y/n decided to meander over to a wall that was covered in pictures.
In one of them was a younger Bokuto, with a large gap where his two front teeth should have been, he was sticking his tongue over the empty space. She giggled while tracing his little button nose from the glass covered image. Another image was an older Bokuto, his elbows were bloody but he was still smiling, a discarded bicycle sat in the background of the picture. The next image made Y/n pause, it was one of her and Bokuto. They were barely first years and she was wearing her hair in that god-awful style that she still cringes over.
Bokuto had wanted to put his arm around her in the picture so she obliged and also set her arm on his shoulders. They were acne ridden and unaware of the future, staying stuck in the present rather than worrying over college entrance exams or even having a breakdown over volleyball. The picture wasn’t that weird, but the thing that made it different was the little heart drawn between their heads.
Y/n knew that Bokuto had drawn it because of the little tail on the heart that dipped down slightly further than necessary. In his crooked handwriting, at the bottom of the image were the words: Love you to the moon and back Y/n! It was a cheesy statement, but she wondered if the words still held the same meaning as they did when he was a first year. Had his feelings changed? Or was she destined to remain a mere friend to Bokuto?
“Y/n! Come here please!” Bokuto urged. Y/n brushed her hand over the wooden picture frame before going into the kitchen. Bokuto was standing with his hands on his hips, and a forlorn expression plastered onto his face.
“No marshmallows then?” Y/n asked, mimicking Bokuto’s stance. She let out a long sigh before speaking up, “I really am very sorry about eating your s’more Bo. I should've waited, it's your birthday after all.”
Bokuto tugged on the cuffs of his long sleeve shirt before taking a step forward. “It’s okay, I don’t really mind. But there is something that I’ve been wanting for my birthday for years, and I think you can give that to me instead.”
“It better not be too expensive. I spent a lot of money on ramen last week when you and I hung out.” Y/n pouted, before poking Bokuto in the arm as a tease. In reality, she knew that she would be willing to drop any amount of money for Bokuto. Always trying to pay him back for one thing or another, and for most of her life she was just trying to pay him back for all the love she received from him.
When Bokuto kept walking forward, Y/n backed up slightly, only to bump into the kitchen island. Bokuto set his hands on either side of her body, gripping the granite counter loosely. He refused to look her in the eyes, instead staring at the space beside her head.
“I’ve wanted this for years, but I only want it if you want it too. Because otherwise it would just be really creepy.” He chuckled, a sad laugh that hit lowly on her heart. Y/n used her hand to move his head so that he would meet her eyes with his ones of melted gold.
The house was deadly quiet, a stark contrast from all the laughter and meaningless chatter from the backyard. Glancing down to her lips, Bokuto flushed before rushing to meet her eyes again. Y/n licked her lips, applying a glossy sheen to them.
“Just so I make this clear for you, once we kiss, we aren’t just friends anymore.” Y/n whispered.
“I know. We’re going to be boyfriend and girlfriend.” Bokuto was drained of any melancholy that had ever been present.
“If that’s what you want.” Y/n cupped his face with her hand and Bokuto leaned into her soft touch.
As Bokuto pressed his lips to hers, she felt entirely weightless. She wanted to keep the feeling of his lips on hers to be embalmed through a snarling sweetness. Bokuto only broke away from the kiss because he was smiling too much. He laughed and suddenly Y/n started to laugh with him, Bokuto ran a hand through his hair, only to be greeted with the pigtails from earlier. Y/n tugged the hair ties out gently, letting Bokuto run his hands through his hair to adjust his hair as he saw fit.
“Your lips taste like marshmallows.” Bokuto licks his lips before giving a pleased hum. He rests his hands on her hips, "There's another thing I want for my birthday."
"Hm?"
"But I think it'll have to wait until your 18th birthday."
"HM???"
He just brought her into another kiss, deeper and with more promise in it.
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workingforitallthetime · 23 days ago
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I am BEGGING you to say more about Will and Mack in silence on the other side!! on my KNEES!
conveniently, i have 3.5K of will/mack that i could not resist expelling from my brain at the end of the google doc. grab a marshmallow stick and let me tell you a campfire story.
(this is very much an epilogue and is not going to make sense unless you've read silence on the other side. if you want the reward of mack/will you have to suffer through the mortifying ordeal of will/gabe/leno.)
Will could wait for Gabe to ask, but she’s done letting things happen to her. She packs a suitcase. She sits on the couch and waits. When she hears the sound of Gabe’s key in the door, she slips off her ring and clenches her fingers around it. The diamond digs into her palm as she rehearses the words in her head. I can’t get married. I’m sorry.
She texts her sister on the way to the airport, after the angry red dent fades. The pale strip around her ring finger is going to take longer, just like the mark on her neck. Can I stay with you for a couple of days?
Of course. Grace answers quick. Are you in Boston? Is everything ok?
Will’s not going to cry in the back of an Uber. Flight gets in at 10:30. And no. 
As the plane pulls away from the gate, she texts Ryan. I’m moving back to Boston. She should switch into airplane mode. Instead, she waits as they taxi.
The reply comes as the plane rounds the turn onto the runway, bright rows of lights blazing the path ahead. Didn’t know you were from Boston.
Will’s swiping her thumb over the text thread to delete it when one last message pops up. Thought it was West Philadelphia. She snorts in spite of herself, and lowers her thumb onto the red trash can before she can second-guess it. She’s not going to cry on a plane, either.
The night air when she emerges from the sliding doors at arrivals is still late-summer muggy. Grace picks her up at the airport, and Will gives her the briefest version. I told Gabe we’re not getting married. No, it wasn’t a mutual decision. No, I don’t know what it’s going to cost. No, I haven’t told mom and dad yet, I’ll do it tomorrow. No, don’t say anything in the bridesmaid group chat, I’ll do it tomorrow. 
The wheels of her suitcase are gritty on the floor of Grace’s apartment. She changes into pajama pants and an old St. Catherine’s t-shirt. She drinks a glass of water and racks the glass in Grace’s dishwasher. She sinks onto the couch, tipping her head back on top of the cushions.
“Oh my god.” Grace stops short at the edge of the room, peering at Will over the armload of bedding she’s bearing. “Did you break up with Gabe because he’s a vampire?”
Will touches the mark on her neck. It doesn’t feel like anything. If she hadn’t seen it in the mirror, she wouldn’t know it was there. “Wasn’t Gabe.”
Grace’s eyes bug out. I don’t want to talk about it, Will says, it’s not a thing. It’s not, like, the reason. It’s just something that happened. She takes the sheets from Grace and shakes them out and tucks herself into the couch. The streetlights outside cast thin stripes through the blinds and across the floor. She’s not going to cry into Grace’s fleece Patriots blanket.
The feeling in her stomach, hollow and sick, that settled in while she waited for Gabe to come home hasn’t gone away. It won’t go away for many days yet. Terrible days. Days of overhearing her mother on the phone apologizing to relatives about their nonrefundable flights. Days of trying to cancel wedding registries before she gets any more notifications about purchased gifts. Days of ignoring the voice messages from her parish priest, the one who was supposed to officiate. The absolute last person Will wants to talk to is a priest.
She goes back to the Midwest, feeling like a burglar in her own apartment as she packs up her things while Gabe is pointedly not home, driving her car along ugly interstates back to Massachusetts with her dad. Somewhere in Pennsylvania, while the road is empty in the beam of their headlights and they’re between episodes of a podcast about white collar crime, he tells her he’s proud of her. He knows it must have been a difficult decision. He trusts her to make the right choices. All Will can say past the lump in her throat is thank you. The tears trickle down the sides of her face in the dark.
She stays at her parents’ house. She writes thank-you notes that are mostly apologies. She goes to brunch with the friends who were supposed to be her bridesmaids, tells them it just didn’t feel right, I knew I’d regret it. None of them mention the cost of the bachelorette weekend last spring, but Will knows they’re all thinking it. When her mom asks, Will tells her she can pick up the dress if she wants. Will doesn’t want to see it. Every time she drives past the country club, the sick feeling in her stomach twists into a hard knot of shame.
On the September Saturday when Will was supposed to get married, Grace makes her go for a hike in New Hampshire. Golden leaves drift over the top of the low stone wall along the trail. At the top of the mountain, granite hills and colorful trees spread out below them. The lake in the valley sparkles in the autumn sunshine. They eat burgers at a roadside diner afterwards and drive back into Massachusetts after dusk, and then the day is over. It’s over, it’s done, it’s finally behind her, and now everything else is ahead.
She starts commuting into the office again. When coworkers ask, she tells them the Midwest didn’t work out. The engagement didn’t work out. After that, there aren’t any conversations about how unreliable she was last summer. She stays on top of her inbox, meets her deadlines early. Never misses a meeting. 
Boston’s not the same. Her old places are all Gabe’s old places too. Her friends are all Gabe’s friends. Most of them aren’t reaching out. Even the ones who are on her side seem confused by her. They don’t understand, because Will can’t imagine telling anyone the real story.
She thinks about going out. Thinks about getting on the apps. Trying to figure out… whatever it is she has to figure out. She can’t manage to pull the trigger. Someone could see her, recognize her.
Losing Boston, or at least the version of Boston she used to love, feels like another breakup. A separate grief just as painful as her grief for Gabe and everything their life was supposed to be. But Will ends it just as unflinchingly as she did her engagement. She finds a new job, something in finance or business or law in New York City, because that’s the place you’re supposed to go to start over.
The details of the job aren’t important. All that’s important is that it’s a job where beauty and breeding and ruthlessness are assets, and Will’s able to leverage all three to the hilt. Oh, and also it’s in an established industry where Rick Celebrini is a known and feared figure.
Will makes the connection pretty quickly when she’s introduced to her coworker Macklin. Mack is a half-step ahead of her at all times and it would be infuriating for Will, if she didn’t like him so much. Or if he didn’t like her so much. Everyone tells them they’re such a great team, hitting all their metrics, seizing opportunities, climbing the ladder together. Will sees in Mack a kind of internal steeliness that matches her own, which isn’t that surprising from someone who was raised by Rick.
Will’s kept cautious by the pervasive sense that she would fuck up anything she started with Mack. That’s what she does. She ruins things. She ruined everything with Gabe, and she’ll ruin anything she starts with another guy. And she really can’t afford to ruin anything with Rick Celebrini’s son. She’s found her niche in this industry, and getting on the wrong side of Rick would mean starting over, again.
So Will remains just as impervious as she can be. Even as she and Mack get closer and closer, and everyone in the firm starts to talk about them as a dynamic duo, and their rising stars are more and more closely linked together, she keeps everything strictly professional. Sometimes her eyes follow the lines of Mack’s three-piece suits not just to appreciate the tailoring, and as soon as she catches herself she looks the other way.
(She’s scared. Scared that nothing’s ever going to feel like it did with Ryan. Scared that nobody else is ever going to love her as much as Gabe did. She’s scared she doesn’t understand what she wants and that she’ll never figure it out. She’s scared there’s something fundamentally wrong with her and that’s why she hurts people. She’s scared that how much she likes Mack means she’s going to hurt him too. She’s scared and nobody knows it, least of all Will.)
Mack’s fascinated by her, and all the more fascinated because of the total blank of her personal life. When he tries to draw her out, he learns about growing up in Lexington, prep school and field hockey, going to BC. They talk about Boston, joke about their BC/BU rivalry, threaten to bet on the Beanpot. Will goes to office happy hours, is clever and engaging at client dinners. But she dodges all questions about what her life is like outside of work. Mack doesn’t know anything about her friends, doesn’t know whether she’s dating anybody, doesn’t even know whether she’s straight.
But Mack knows the connection’s there, and he’s going to keep trying. Picture those gifs from the 49ers game: Mack’s trying to get Will’s attention, and Will’s ignoring him, and Mack doesn’t even care. He’s willing to work for it. He wants to work for it. That’s how Rick raised him: how hard you work is the measure of how much you care.
One day Will rounds the corner by the elevators and walks into a knot of coworkers talking about some smart maneuver Mack pulled, something he talked over with Will in advance so she immediately recognizes a reference to a client or a contract term. “No dick, but he’s got plenty of balls,” says someone with their back to Will, and everyone who saw her come around the corner gets an awkward expression on their faces.
Will gives them the same look of icy disdain she uses to shut down people who call her Mack’s work wife. Someone says loudly that they’ve got a conference call starting in a few and the group hurriedly dissolves, except one office gossip who caught Will’s momentary confusion and has been simply dying for an excuse to have a conversation with her on this topic. She follows Will into the elevator. “Didn’t you know he’s trans?” she says as soon as he doors close. “It’s all very hush-hush, nobody ever says anything because Rick’s bitten a few heads off about it. I was there at an off-site when he literally yelled at someone about pronouns.”
(Just imagine Rick Celebrini when his kid announces he’s a boy. Okay, says Rick, not in so many words, if you’re a boy you’d better be the most boy you can be. What are you doing today to be a better boy? Mack’s grown up with Rick micromanaging his medical care and tailoring his punishing workouts to achieve some not entirely defined standard of masculinity and generally making Mack feel like he’s not working hard enough if he’s not at all times trying to be The Most Boy. Rick does not react kindly to anyone who suggests that Mack is anything other than his son… including and especially Mack, who is immediately reminded that he is All Boy, Only Boy if there’s ever any suggestion he might stray from Rick’s expectations of masculinity. Mack knows better than to say yes when the menswear stores he frequents suggest a pink shirt or a floral tie to go with one of those three-piece suits.)
Not that Will knows any of that. She dials the iciness a few degrees colder and hums the most neutral hmmm in her vocabulary until her coworker blessedly exits the elevator, disappointed by Will’s unsatisfying reaction.
Will lets the doors close. She punches the button for a different floor without looking at the display, aiming generally for something a long way away.
It’s just a surprise, that’s all. That’s why her heart’s racing, the unexpectedness of it. A confounding variable in the already tangled mess of Will trying to sort out her own identity. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything on the long list of reasons why she needs to keep Mack firmly in valued colleague/work best friend territory.
It’s a chink in the wall, though. And a wall that’s already being subjected to Mack’s considerable efforts, as well as geologic forces beyond Will’s control, is going to crumble eventually.
It happens at the holiday party. Some swanky venue rented out for the night, marble pillars, parquet floors. Raw seafood on ice, top-shelf drinks. Towering centerpieces with pine boughs and crystals. Will, in her classy little black dress, doesn’t have a date, of course. Neither does Mack, in his black suit with some requisite element of lowkey corporate festive. A red plaid vest, a tie with tiny holly berries on it, something like that.
They circulate through cocktail hour like the pros they are, catching glimpses of each other through the crowd, always aware of where the other one is. Somebody’s seated them at the same table for dinner (Mack might have had something to do with this) and after a couple of glasses of champagne Will forgets that she ought to be making holiday-appropriate small talk with everyone else at the table and she starts doing what she actually wants to do, which is talk to Mack. Mack, with his blue eyes and soft hair and strong fingers tapping the base of his rocks glass, making Will feel like she’s at her witty, charming best. Basically, everyone else is Tyler Toffoli on the plane and Will and Mack are in their own little world.
They sneak sideways glances at each other during the speeches and toasts, silent acknowledgement of corporate inside jokes. Will doesn’t look at Mack when Rick’s got the spotlight, but she can feel him sitting up straighter next to her, a little bit of extra rigidity in his spine.
After dessert the table groups start to dissolve and word starts to spread among Mack and Will’s coworkers, the younger crowd, about where the afterparty’s headed. Mack catches Will at the edge of a conversation and says something low into her ear, just for her. Want to go someplace else?
Will does.
Mack takes her someplace loud and anonymous, with more drinks and a crowded dance floor. Will doesn’t shrug off Mack’s hand at the small of her back. They dance, closer and closer together, and Will’s eyes are shining, and when Mack finally kisses her Will kisses back like she’s drowning. 
I’m calling a car, Mack says, and Will doesn’t let go, too much adrenaline and champagne and desperation to think about whether this is theoretically a bad idea. It’s been so long since somebody she cares about has touched her. Mack’s apartment is quiet and tasteful and Will barely sees it. She doesn’t want Mack to be something that happens to her. If this is happening, she’s going to make it happen just as much as Mack is.
If I was going to write a sex scene here it would be about how the expectations of masculinity that Rick has imposed on Mack have taken root in Mack’s assumptions about how he ought to have sex, and how that does or doesn’t align with what Mack actually wants, and how all of that collides with what Will wants, which is to eat that boy’s pussy.
Will falls asleep with her head on Mack’s chest and wakes up with the enormity of it all setting in. This is big, this is huge, and nothing that happened last night alleviated the underlying fear that she’s going to fuck it all up.
Mack can practically feel the tension radiating across the sheets at him. He reaches for Will. “I don’t want this to be a one-off.”
This does not have the desired effect of Will relaxing into him. Heart sinking, Mack tries again. “It can be if you want, though.” The pinch in Will’s brows doesn’t go away. Mack scoots back so he’s not touching her. “Just so you know, that’s really not what I want.” In the absence of a response, Mack starts desperation-yapping. “I know there’s something here, and I think you do to, and last night felt…”
Will’s eyes are huge across the gap between their pillows. She has to say something. “I’m a bad bet,” is what comes out. “I break everything.”
“Are you saying that because you want me to walk away?” Mack’s hoping that’s a quick answer, but Will looks like she’s actually thinking about it, so he keeps talking. “Do you want me to walk away?”
Very quietly, against the pillow, Will admits it. No.
Mack exhales. “Like, I’m not gonna. It’ll have to be you.”
He grins, like this is a joke, and it infuriates Will because he doesn’t understand. It’s not funny. Will’s warning him that he’s going to get hurt and he’s laughing. “That’s what I’m worried about,” Will hisses through her gritted teeth.
“That you’ll break up with me?” Mack, incredulous. “I can take it. That’s not a reason not to, like, try.” He reaches for Will again and Will lets him. “I could change my mind and dump your ass too.”
Will gives him a scornful look at the suggestion that anyone could ever break up with her, and Mack cracks up because it’s such an extremely Will reaction. “Let’s just be good, okay?” Will lets herself be pulled into his arms. “Until you break up with me, and I’ll deal with it. We can be good for now, right?”
Will whispers it against his lips before she kisses him. So good.
Eventually they get up. Will picks through Mack’s collection of sweats and ends up in a Canucks hoodie and Lulu joggers because she refuses to wear anything that has BU on it. They get coffee, and while they’re drinking it at opposite ends of Mack’s couch with their feet tangled together in the middle, Mack says I think you should tell me more about what you said earlier. About breaking everything.
Will’s silent, turning the sleeve of her coffee around and around the cup. There’s no way to avoid it. Mack’s going to have to find out sometime, if they’re going to do this. And Will really, increasingly every second, wants them to do this. “I was engaged,” she says, watching Mack. She can practically see his mouth forming questions, but he waits. “Like two years… three years ago now. My college boyfriend. Gabe. We were together for seven years. We moved to [Midwest city].”
“You lived in [Midwest city]?” Macklin’s laughing. “I can’t even picture it.”
“I know, right?” Will briefly experiences the warm glow of being known before she gets back to business. “It didn’t work. I cheated on him.” Will takes a deep breath. “Like, a lot. Her name was Ryan.”
She watches for Mack’s reaction to the pronoun, but he just nods. When Will doesn’t say anything else, Mack asks, “What happened to her?”
“I don’t know.” Will used to think about googling, but there’s no place to start. Ryan. The dive bar. The city. That’s all she knows. “It wasn’t… like that.”
“What happened to Gabe?”
“I ended it.” Will doesn’t have to google Gabe. He pops up in suggested posts, in her friends’ tags. He has a new girlfriend. They got a puppy. “It was, like, not very long before the wedding,” she adds, just so Mack knows how awful she is. “It really, really sucked.” Will puts all of the anguish of that brutal September into each really.
Mack forms his next question carefully. “Did you break up with him because he was a guy, or because he wasn’t the right guy?” 
“I don’t know.” Will lifts her chin defiantly. It’s the most vulnerable thing she’s ever said. Here’s my fucked up situation. Here’s what you’re getting into. 
“What’s that mean for me?” Mack does not relate to identity crises, having had his own identity rigorously reinforced since adolescence (or so he thinks). “Being… the guy that I am.”
“Oh, are you trans? I hadn’t noticed,” Will says, like she didn’t have her tongue in his pussy ten hours earlier.
Mack laughs, and that’s enough vulnerability for two people who don’t like it and are going to have to figure that part out later. “We should have dinner next weekend, if you don’t break up with me before then.”
If I was not inherently resistant to established relationship fic, there would be a lot to explore here. Chiefly, I’m intrigued by what happens when Rick’s singleminded focus on Mack’s masculinity (and the not-necessarily-positive ways that Mack has internalized that), collide with Will’s attraction to Mack, which is not premised on masculinity. Will’s got to figure her own shit out somewhere along the way, but she’s at least pretty sure that 100 percent masculinity is not on her list of priorities in a partner. I think that Rick is immediately welcoming to Will, to a degree that’s almost curious, and Will and Mack slowly realize that in Rick’s eyes Mack’s earned some kind of manhood badge by bringing home a hot girlfriend. Also, as ever, there’s a plot to be made out of Rick treating Will like another Celebrini child who warrants Rick’s micromanaging, and Will figuring out how to resist that without alienating Rick, and along the way prompting some realizations for Mack about the ways in which his Sheriff Rick upbringing was maybe a little bit fucked up.
Anyway. Here’s how the story would end. Mack makes it a running joke about Will breaking up with him. What do you want to do for Valentines’ Day, if you don’t break up with me before then? At first it’s jarring, and then it’s a comfort, a little reassurance that Mack still likes her enough that he’s willing to risk it all going wrong. Yeah, I could do Thanksgiving in Lexington if you’re not going to break up with me… Do you want to come to Whistler with us this year, if you haven’t dumped me by then?... I’m going to book our flight for R.J.’s graduation weekend unless you want to break up first. And then, over time, it starts to become jarring again. We should move in together when your lease is up if you’re not going to break up with me.
“Stop saying that,” Will finally says. “I’m not going to.”
“You’re not going to break up with me?” Mack’s about to fist-pump over his long game paying off. “Like ever?”
“Like ever,” Will confirms, and Mack can’t get down on one knee fast enough.
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