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shybluebirdninja · 4 months ago

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The Great Outdoors

Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated.

Pairing : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Genre : Fluff

The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.

This was going to be interesting.

“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.

Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”

Oh, boy.

You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.

He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.

“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.

“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.

Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.

“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”

He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”

You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”

“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.

“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”

After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?

By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.

“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”

Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”

You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”

He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.

“Logan, that’s not how—”

Whoosh!

The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.

“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”

“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”

Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”

You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.

After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.

You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”

“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”

He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”

“Oh, this oughta be good.”

Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”

“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”

You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”

Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”

You shook your head, grinning. “What?”

“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”

You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”

Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”

You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”

As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.

“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.

“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”

“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.

Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”

You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.

“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”

Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.

“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.

“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”

“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.

“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”

Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”

You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”

Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”

He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.

“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”

“Like what?” you asked, curious now.

Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”

The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.

“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.

“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”

You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.

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teaboot · 5 months ago

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I can't go into detail, but an old buddy of mine got hooked on some bad shit and wound up homeless with a pretty solid criminal record. I'm a security guard now, and he just showed up in the area as a BOLO.

Last time we saw each other was bad, but I want to get him a few necessities together and a heads up that my client knows his face so he doesn't steal here and get nailed.

I'm ded grabbing Cliff bars, a water bottle, and socks. Not sure if I'll be able to track him down in time for fresh fruit or produce, but back when I was floor camping I really missed those so I'll try to find something that'll keep.

Anyone with experience have any ideas for unexpected useful things? He's a clever fucker, can build almost anything if needed, so I'm aiming for multipurpose or multifunctional. (Can't afford much myself).

List so far:

Cliff bars (used to prefer those over other granola)

Reusable water bottle

Socks (I have some big wool ones at home)

Wet wipes (not many public showers here)

What are some other things he many not be able to get himself? I can put everything in a ziplock freezer bag and hide it in my backpack till I get a lead

Advice appreciated, thank you

#Addiction mention #Homelessness #Seeking advice #He will... probably not be happy to see me #So drop bag and run is a strategy I am considering

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 8 months ago

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AITA for "using" a cucumber and putting it back in the fridge?

(🥒👌 to find later)

Please, I know it sounds nuts but hear me out. I feel awful and I need to know just how bad this is. Also, I intentionally left as much as possible vague as I am a minor and I do not want this to get removed for being too explicit. But the story will not make sense if I don't include certain things, please understand.

So I (16M) grew up in and currently still live in the bible belt, with extremely conservative evangelical parents. As a taste of what it's like, we have church 3 times a week, and church camp every summer. We are only allowed to access Netflix through a stupid content filter app and we can only use a restricted smart phone that is regularly checked at random by our parents. We get an hour and a half of computer usage every other day, and the internet on the computer is heavily filtered also. The only reason I have access to Tumblr and am able to post this now is because my best friend's older brother gave me his old android for my birthday a few years ago. His family is much more open minded, and I'm very close with them. I also think they have always felt a little bad for me with my family being the way they are.

I'm also gay. Obviously, my family does not know, and I intend to keep it that way. I won't go too deep into it, but it will suffice to say I struggled a lot when I was younger over this. The good thing is that in the last few years, I've been able to accept myself more and come to terms with what my own feelings about religion and faith really are. I came out to my best friend and his brother a little over a year ago, and they've been very supportive. I have yet to tell any of my other friends.

Recently, I've been trying out alcohol since my friends found a hookup. Something I have discovered is that I tend to get lewd feelings when I drink, which has nearly caused a few embarrassing moments around friends. Coincidentally, I have also been experimenting with... certain things. Being a minor, I obviously can't enter any of the adult stores around me, nor would I feel comfortable asking any of my friends to drive me there if I could. I also can't order anything online because my bank account is connected to my parents, and I don't have a shipping address I'm comfortable using for those items either. So instead, I use household objects that belong to me and can be sanitized easily. You might see where this is going.

Yesterday evening, I came home from best friend's house with a full bottle of wine in my backpack. We and a few other friends had already been sipping on a few beers that afternoon, and I still felt a little buzzed. After my family went to sleep, despite already having a little alcohol in my system, I proceeded to get wasted on this bottle of wine in my room. I don't have the clearest memory of all of this, but at some point, I got hungry and lewd-feeling. Went into the kitchen and, through some kind of thought process I can only imagine now, came back into my room with a cucumber. From the title of the post, you can hazard a guess as to what happened to this cucumber. Once I was done, I drukedly and quickly washed it in the bathroom sink and threw it back into the fridge. I went to sleep.

I started freaking out as soon as I woke up this morning. There were four cucumbers in the fridge, I was pretty positive at least two were going to be used for dinner tonight, and I had no idea which cucumber I did the deed with. To make matters worse, my mom was inviting the pastor of our church and his family over for dinner. I have practically no money currently, no license or vehicle, and no friends with vehicles free to pick up new cucumbers for me (and no reasonable explanation as to why I needed them to spot me for four cucumbers specifically). I also have no believable reason to give for why we shouldn't have cucumbers added in the salad mix. My mom knows I love them, and they haven't gone bad. Can't say I ate them because who the hell eats four raw cucumbers? And she'll interrogate both my brother and I until she gets a satisfying answer if I just throw them out. I didn't know what the hell to do about this and I was close to having a panic attack, so... I took a nap.

Evening came. Guests came over, dinner happened. We had porkchops with macaroni and side salads. Cucumbers were in the salad, and I along with pastor's family and my own, ate it like nothing was wrong. My parents, the pastor and his wife had an engaging conversation about politics, religion, and some mild church gossip after dinner. My little brother continued to read his book, and I had a very awkward and one-sided conversation about Young Sheldon with the pastor's daughter. Then they left. And I went to my room to mentally implode.

To say I'm horrified is a major understatement. I don't think anyone is going to get sick because I scrubbed all of the cucumbers with soap multiple times and cleaned the vegetable drawer with bleach when I woke up this morning. I guess I also don't know that the violated cucumber was one of the ones that was used for dinner tonight, but then it's only a matter of days until we have salad again, or if mom cuts one up for water. I've rattled my brain for any way I could get some new cucumbers without telling anyone the details of the event, but I have nothing. Don't even have the money, anyway. Gave up the last bit of cash I had for the damn wine yesterday, and I have $0.43 in total on my debit card.

Admittedly, there is a very small part of me that doesn't even really care if they have eaten or end up eating the damn thing. I can't stand my family. My parents are invasive, controlling and neurotic, and don't give a shit about how I'm doing in so far as it pertains to god and the church. I'm a little more sympathetic to my brother as he's been stuck in this hell with me, but at 13 he's already begun to regurgitate way more religious dogma than I ever did at his age. And I know for a fact that they would want nothing to do with me if they found out I was gay. They'd probably kick me out on the street and spit on me if I had to guess. But even still, this is only a small part of how I feel. What I did was still so gross, and no amount of animosity I have for them can change how mortifed I am. I do have at least a semblance of a conscience.

So...AITA for all of this? WIBTA if I did nothing about the other two cucumbers? Please help.

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

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love-that-we-were-in · 1 year ago

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indelible scars, pivotal marks

pairing: luke castellan x implied apollo!reader

summary: you might be the only person who actually knows luke castellan. you don't think anyone else is willing to try.

a/n: what if i told you i got yelled at a lot after writing this. enjoy! oh this is also my first x reader in the 5 years i've been writing who cheered. have fun !

Luke is fourteen the first time he can remember sleeping through the night. He’s barely been at Camp Half-Blood for three hours, skin still splotched purple and blue, Thalia’s yells echoing in his skull. There’s no silence, a steady hum of nature that’s leveled by the voices of people he doesn’t know, and he knows he shouldn’t sleep. They’ve lost Thalia, left her just beyond the borders of an unknown place, and it’s a risk to welcome the flimsy pillow they gave him. He does it anyway, eyes closing to the sound of Annabeth’s soft breaths.

The respite lasts one night.

By morning, he’s recounted the last five years more than he ever wanted to. Annabeth clings to him then, a known comfort. She knows the broad strokes of the story, could recount them herself, but there’s gaps from before her time, and there’s things Thalia made him swear not to tell. If she notices, she doesn’t comment, just keeps her fingers close to her side. He knows that’s where she keeps her dagger - he wonders if Chiron can tell as well.

Chiron brings them to Thalia, explains what happened and how lucky it is. Luke looks at the tree, the first time Thalia has stood taller than him since they met - something she always swore she would do one day - and leans back against it as Annabeth sobs into his shoulder.

Mr D sends Annabeth to the Athena cabin before lunch. Luke doesn’t need to be told to make his way to Cabin 11. He knows who his father is. His backpack is left at the base of a bed in the far corner of the room, a group of boys gathered around the area turning to watch him the second he walks in. They move away but they don’t stop their stares.

Sleep doesn’t come as easily to him that night.

You meet Luke Castellan when you’re fifteen, standing on the edge of the lake as a golden sun rises in the horizon. It’s your first morning at camp, your first morning admiring the sunrise in months, and you think you could find a home here. Within the hour, you’re sure the calm won’t be the same – too many kids in the same space, swords and satyrs and strawberries guiding the day along – but for now there’s sunlight.

“Breakfast isn’t for two more hours,” someone says from behind you. It should be scarier than it is, put you on high alert with the way he creeps into the space without a sound. “Just in case someone forgot to mention that.”

He’s pretty. Strong chin, dark eyes. On most people you’ve met, that’s where pretty ends. Not him. There’s this way he stands in your periphery; comfortable in his worn camp t-shirt, like he was made to live in it, to have it define him for an eternity. Very few people are pretty in a way that speaks of forever.

“I like to watch the sunrise.”

He hums. “I’m Luke.”

He waits, steps away, until you offer him a seat beside you on the grass. It was something you were told once, an eclectic art teacher draped in shawls and chunky jewelry, how the sun is only as beautiful as it is when shared with another. As Luke sits next to you, you enjoy the quiet you’re positive isn’t built to last.

Luke becomes a counselor that summer. Everyone saw it coming, the way he’s known to everyone and not just the Hermes kids. Whispers of a legacy, of a potential legend in the making, followed him already, two years at camp creating grand ideas for his future – counselor status just helps to further them. It’s not that big of a deal normally. It’s potentially defining when you’re the best swordsman in almost three hundred years.

You find him on his way back from the Big House that evening, heading in no particular direction but with a clear idea of where he doesn’t want to be. It’s something you’ve learnt to read in the last few weeks, the way Luke fluctuates. How he dips in and out of personas as if it’s possible to switch them out. It comes with renown, you suppose.

“Counselor Castellan, is it?”

He smiles something bitter. “So they tell me.”

Without hesitation, you take hold of his hand. It’s warmer than yours and you feel the difference in your bloodstream. Luke doesn’t look at you, doesn’t comment, and you lead him away from the cabins and down to the lake.

There’s maybe an hour until sunset. You’re almost attuned to it now, mornings spent watching it with rapt attention. Luke normally joins you, sword dropped between you. Some mornings, the thud of metal onto stone is the only reason you know he’s arrived, still so silent in his arrival that you wonder if it’s on purpose.

“Does it make you anxious?” You ask when the silence stretches on for too long, when Luke stares unblinkingly at the horizon for longer than he should. He blinks, irises shifting from a glassy bronze and back to muted brown as the film clears. “Did they even ask if it was something you wanted?”

He scoffs and you wonder if this is where everything changes. Luke always has things he wants to say, balancing on the tip of his tongue until he figures out how to swallow them down and burn them. It’s like you can see it play out in real time, his jaw shifting, arm tensing.

“Mr D told me it was a great honor. Chiron told me it was long overdue.”

“You weren’t given a chance to say no.”

It’s a pattern you’ve noticed, not just within camp but with all the Gods. Clarisse was sent a spear with no note, but everyone knew who had sent it. Annabeth’s hat was exactly the same. Gifts. All gifts. No receipts or return addresses provided. Life at camp was something to be grateful for, always, considering the alternative most of you had already been forced to live. To comment on it would make you an enemy of those too powerful to consider.

Looking at the tense set of Luke’s shoulders, you kind of want to say it anyway.

“I’m about to have all the glory Camp Half-Blood could offer me,” Luke says and the sun begins to dip below the surface of the lake. His palm is warm in yours again. “Why would I complain?”

There’s a flurry of new arrivals no one anticipated the next summer They come in pairs, mostly, with the odd trio. Always one unclaimed within the group. Always one who gets marched to Cabin 11 in the middle of the night, sometimes after hours of questioning.

You know the nights that it’s happened, taking in the way Luke’s movements are less sharp, the way he breathes more shallowly. A conservation of energy. It doesn’t affect you much until it does, the sharp sting of Luke’s sword on your arm as he loses his footing, turns too suddenly at the sound of your footsteps.

“This is insane,” you say as you press your shirt into the cut. It’s not bad, something that will heal quickly and fade into nothingness, but Luke locks his gaze on the red dotting your skin as if he doesn’t understand how it got there. “They can’t keep waking you up in the middle of the night for this.”

“The only other place they can go is the med bay and none of them have been beaten up badly enough to be worth waking an Apollo kid.”

“I’ve seen some of the kids when they’ve gotten here, Luke,” you mutter, shirt hem dropping as the wound stops bleeding. You glance up at him. “They could do with being patched up.”

He sinks down to the floor. You stay on your feet. “This is what I signed up for when I took the position.”

There’s this way Luke’s voice gets sometimes, sharp and low and just a little spiteful. A build-up of years with little mercy granted. That’s how it is now, speaking through clenched teeth, completely biting back the vitriol and pretending there’s no heat to his words.

He’s always been pretty in the sunrise, from the day you met, but you think he might be prettiest right now – lying to himself more than he can lie to you in the moments before there’s any sunlight at all. When you would let darkness spill into itself, Luke forces light to filter in. If you caught him at the darkest hour, you wonder if that would remain.

Taking in the way he digs his nail into the fabric of his pants, you doubt even he would know how to stop himself then.

You aren’t chosen for Luke’s quest. He finds you after the ceremony, face pulled taut and bag thrown over his shoulder already. There’s no regret in his eyes, no determination either. You stand straighter when you hear him approach, grateful that he cared enough not to take you by surprise for once.

“Don’t be mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad?” You say. It’s disingenuous to your own ears, the way it pitches, so you fold your arms across your chest. “Chris and Ethan will be great questmates. A band of brothers.”

Luke swallows. “Is that really what you think this is? That I wanted to make my quest a guys trip?”

“I don’t think anything of it, Luke.”

In the middle of the day, you can see him clearest. See the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood the way everyone else does. In broad daylight, there’s few things more noticeable on Luke Castellan. The slope of his nose, the straightness of his back, the comfortable weight of his sword on his hip – almost a tether to who he proclaims himself to be. It’s your least favorite version of him.

“I would’ve chosen you. In a heartbeat, I would’ve chosen you,” he says, brown eyes shifting from dim to desperate in moments. A plea to be heard. You know you’re the only one to ever truly listen when he speaks.

“Doesn’t really seem that way.”

“I just needed a reason to come back when it’s over.”

It stills the air around you. The words tangle themselves together in your brain, drown out the archers in the distance, the birds overhead. They echo and twist and they maintain their tone, the low pitch Luke uses when he’s decided to say something he doesn’t want to be heard. They bury themselves in the corner with the other times he’s used it, forever ingrained, and you don’t know what to make of them. How to define them at all.

He waits, gaze firm, until you nod slightly. You keep your chin low, determined to give little satisfaction to the situation. To Hermes giving Luke a reused quest, to the possibility of losing him because you aren’t there. It curdles deep in your gut, refusing to remain unknown.

There’s a moment where Luke hesitates, his hand twitching slightly, arm moving minutely higher from where it hangs down by his waist. Instead, his fist clenches and he exhales long and low.

“Promise to be here when I get back?”

“I’ll be really annoyed if you’re not the one knocking on my cabin door.”

He turns back to face you after he joins Chris and Ethan at the border. They’re all capable, with a history of working together. They’ll succeed, return to praise and glory and everything they deserve to have. The sun beats down on Luke as he nods goodbye and you wonder if it shines on anyone else at all.

The scar becomes a part of him.

It fades into his skin with time, going from raised and rotten to a streak of pale across his cheek. You overhear some of the Ares kids praising it as symbolic of his win, a prize of sorts, and some of the Aphrodite kids saying it makes him more appealing, makes him look stronger. You’re not sure what you think of it, tracing it with gentle fingers as it heals.

It becomes a habit, running a knuckle down Luke’s cheek each morning. Feeling where the skin tied itself back together. He never comments. You want to ask if he minds, that you’ll stop if it’s too much. The first few times you did it, in the days right after his return, he had flinched, features pinching together. Your hand had dropped, all too aware of the matted skin, how it probably still ached but Luke had taken your hand and placed it back where it had been.

His scar becomes a statement, a badge of skill that everyone at camp can recognise. There had been little debate on the truth of his swordsmanship before but now it hardly existed, undeniable proof the first thing people noticed when introduced to him.

Most people don’t bother to ask Luke about it. Percy Jackson isn’t most people.

“You got attacked by a dragon?”

It’s the first time in years that anyone has joined you and Luke at the lake this early. Annabeth used to, on the rare occasions the worst of her nightmares returned. It’s different with Percy, like being close to the water rewires him completely. It makes sense days later when you watch him push open the door to the empty Cabin 3.

“Last year,” Luke hums, one hand resting softly in yours and the other keeping a loose grip on the sword handle in his lap. Percy had wanted to see him in action after hearing the stories, so you’d both obliged. “I made a wrong call and I paid for it.”

“At least it looks pretty cool.”

The way Percy says it is different to everyone else. It’s not ingrained with this odd lust, whether for adventure or the story or Luke himself. It’s more muted, a fact of life. He’s not saying it to make anyone feel better – he’s saying it to disregard. A scar is just a scar to Percy Jackson, as if he’s known too many to care.

“I guess it kind of is,” Luke says and the three of you listen to the morning begin.

#🖋️ abi writes…#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan x you

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daryltwdixon · 5 months ago

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The Ruins of Us: Chapter 1

Summary: You’re deep in the woods, hungry and focused on survival, when a familiar face from your past appears, gruff as ever, crossbow in hand. After an uneasy reunion, he lets you follow him back to his camp. Memories of shared moments—summer days by the lake and clumsy hunting lessons—surface as you fall into step behind him, feeling a hint of the ease you once had.

Notes: If you're rereading, you might notice some changes in the passages, dialogue, etc. I was posting my first draft and have learned a lot since then! So now I'm just going back and editing where I see fit :) enjoy!!

There was nothing quite like the feeling of true hunger.

Your stomach growls and you feel like your intestines are being squeezed by a phantom hand in your gut. You’ve gotten used to the sound by now, and it does nothing to distract you from the snare you’re putting together. Soon . God, it had been a long time since you last thought about the scarcity of food and water. At least you learned how to somewhat fend for yourself in the wilderness growing up. Not that you had the same supplies you’d typically have for camping like this. If only you’d thought to grab actual necessities when you left your apartment the day the world ended. But no, you didn’t think you’d be in the middle of the Georgia heat, deep in the woods, surviving off canned stolen food from houses and the rodents you could catch in tiny snares.

You thought maybe by now you’d find a group. But your family was gone by now, probably dead knowing your drunk mother. You hadn’t seen anyone that day, just bolted with a backpack into the woods when you were caught in the never ending traffic on interstate 85. You tried to go home, you really did. To see if anyone was still there that needed you. To make sure your friends were alive. But the bombing in the city and the dead crawling the streets made you have to make a very quick decision that day.

So here you are. In the woods. Alone. Stomach growling and tying a snare for what you hope will be a nice rabbit for dinner.

A snap of a twig nearby makes your head jerk up and out of your mindless thoughts. You’re under just enough cover to be hidden by the figure lurking through the woods quietly.

But you sigh in relief as its hooves come into sight and you see it's just a deer. As much as it’s a relief to see an animal, you can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance that you wish you could at least hunt the damn thing.

The only weapon you have is the stupid kitchen knife you stole from the house you raided a few days ago. You’d finished off the can of corn kernels immediately and out of excitement slashed your hand on the lid when trying to pry it open. Just the reminder makes your hand hurt and you look down at the nastily bandaged thing. You had used your own shirt to wrap it and god knows how long it’s been since that was cleaned.

Looking back up at the deer peacefully grazing, your stomach churns. Not sure if it’s from the gruesome look of your hand or out of pure hunger. What you wouldn’t do for a good ol’ gun at the moment. But you also know a gun wouldn’t do you any good when you were alone in the woods. The dead could be anywhere, and even though the sound would bounce off the canyons surrounding the valley you traveled up into, anything close by would know where it came from.

You continue tying the snare in your hands, cursing under your breath when the shoelace you have breaks apart in your hands.

But then you and the deer snap your heads up suddenly at the sound of snarling coming from your left. You see the dead corpse making its way lazily into the clearing, tripping over its own feet.

You glance between the it and the deer, wondering why the deer hasn’t made any move to leave.

Go , you urge in your head, go before it’s too late.

The deer is frozen in place, ears pinned forward, tail still as it stares down the corpse coming in closer.

Come on, you urge louder inwardly, balling your fists up. You’re still well hidden in the brush for the dead guy to see you and you feel for this poor deer. But if you were to get up and scare the deer into running, you’d be seen by the corpse. If you went after the corpse, your potential meal would leave. Not that you even have the confidence you’d ever catch the thing let alone be able to kill it.

The dead guy is a foot from the deer and your mind is made up in an instant. You stand suddenly, raising your knife and making the lunge for the biting dead thing. As you shove yourself towards it however, something comes flying through the air, grazing your cheek. You fall to the side, and the deer makes a break for it. The corpse is suddenly on the ground, motionless with an arrow in the side of its head.

“Dammit!” Comes a gruff voice in the woods. You turn and heave yourself onto your palms as you sit back on the grass, holding your knees up to protect yourself while on the ground. You’re working on getting yourself up when a man comes out of the brush with a crossbow in hand.

“I’ve been trackin’ that damn deer fer miles,” he snaps, “what’ja do that for?” he swings his arms in annoyance, including the one with a loaded crossbow.

Your heart is pounding in your chest and feels like it’s in your throat after the adrenaline rush you just had. He grabs the arrow that’s sticking out of the biter’s head and puts it back in his bow. You hold your breath. You recognize the light brown hair and his gravely, angry voice. You just can’t be sure, you don’t want to get your hopes up. For now, you’re quiet, waiting for his next move. While knowing damn well he’s going to point that crossbow at you next.

Sure enough, when he’s satisfied his arrows are back in place, he turns abruptly on you with it held up at you. You manage a gasp when you get a flash of his face before the crossbow is shielding the rest. He hesitates, and lowers the crossbow from its aim on you.

Daryl Dixon is staring you down in the clearing.

“What the–” he starts, and you’re lost for words yourself.

“I–I” you stutter, your breath finally coming back to you in gulps. Daryl stomps over and reaches his arm out, grabbing under your upper arm to hoist you up. He releases you once you’re on your feet and backs up a few steps.

“Y/N?” he whispers.

x Flashback x

“Daryl, what the hell!” you exclaim, but your voice is high and you're laughing as he pulls up to your house. He’s got a shit eating grin on his face, in a junked up old truck, hanging his arm out of the driver’s side door.

“C’mon” he waves, “Merle’s finally out of the house and we can go out to the lake” he reaches behind him “and I’ve got the goods” he shakes a bottle of vodka out the window to show you.

You’re running up to the old dingy thing, hands in the passenger seat window that’s rolled down.

“Where the hell did you get this?” You squint up at the ceiling, noticing the torn fabric and faint cigarette burns, the floor littered with crumpled wrappers and old butts. But Daryl is still grinning like an idiot at you.

“Merle left it at the house after he took it from some guy yesterday. Get in!” he reaches over, opening the passenger door for you.

You slide into the seat without hesitation, the warm leather sticking to your thighs as you slam the door shut. Daryl immediately reverses, throwing you a daring glance as he swings the truck onto the streets of Atlanta. The wind whips through the open windows, carrying your laughter into the muggy summer air.

When you arrive, Daryl pulls up to a dirt patch, tires crunching over gravel. You hop out, clutching the bottle of Tito’s, and head toward the water. Daryl’s close behind, cigarette pack and lighter in hand. You take a swig straight from the bottle, savoring the sharp burn before handing it to him. Just as he grabs it, you start peeling off your shirt, then your worn jean shorts. You glance at him, and his eyes are on you as he purses his lips on the bottle. You retreat to the water in your underwear and bra, eager to finally cool off from the summer heat. You just barely get a glimpse of Daryl shaking his head while he strips down to his boxers and follows you in.

Hours slip by as you splash around, laughing, and tossing back swigs of vodka between lazy swims and shared cigarettes. The buzz settles over you like a warm haze, wrapping you in that carefree summer feeling. Eventually, you both drift to the shore, spreading your clothes out as makeshift pillows, staring up at the trees, watching as the sun filters through the leaves.

“Got any summer internships lined up?” you ask him, your arm laying across your forehead to shade your eyes as you take in the glimmering sun between the leaves above.

“Pfft” he quietly scoffs, “yeah, right. Merle’d never let me hear the end of that one”

You glance over, taking in his profile—the sharp line of his jaw, the scruff just starting to come in around his chin. There’s something different about him, something rougher, older. His eyes were narrowed, brows furrowed together. It’s crazy that you’d known him and his older brother since you were just kids, and that you’ve watched each other grow up into…adults? You were both just barely 18 now.

After a long silence, he speaks again, his voice low and thoughtful. “We should jus’ get outta here.” His gaze is fixed upward, his tone serious in a way that makes you pause. He takes another drag of his cigarette, then glances over, his eyes searching yours for something.

“Where would we go?” you tease, turning to face him fully, head propped up on one hand. You try to keep it light, but there’s a flicker of curiosity, of temptation. Could he really be serious?

“Dunno,” he mutters, looking away, almost embarrassed. “California…or New York. Anywhere but here.” His voice is quiet, almost wistful, like he’s daring to imagine something bigger than the life he’s always known.

“But wouldn’t you miss dear old bro?” You smirk, rolling onto your stomach, close enough now that your arms are touching. He gives you a sidelong glance, a faint smirk pulling at his lips.

“Merle’d barely know I was gone”

“Now we both know that’s not true,” you say, poking his arm playfully. “That man would hunt you down to the ends of the earth if you just up and left.” You laugh, but there’s a pang of truth beneath it; you know as well as Daryl does that he’s bound to his brother, whether he wants to be or not.

He rolls his eyes, flicking your arm in return. “You’re dumb,” he mumbles, still watching you, a hint of something unreadable in his gaze.

“But you love me,” you tease, grinning at him. But then, just for a moment, his expression shifts, something flickering in his eyes that catches you off guard. It’s a look that makes your heart skip, a heavy silence falling over you as you both just…look at each other. Your smirk fades as you get lost in the deep blue of his gaze, his presence so close it feels like the world narrows to just the two of you, lying by the lake, skin warm from the sun, fingers just barely brushing

The moment lingers, thick with something unspoken. Your heart beats faster, a flush creeping into your cheeks, and you don’t know if it’s the vodka or the way his eyes keep holding yours. But then, suddenly, the spell breaks—the buzz of your phone shatters the silence. You snap back, fumbling for it, glancing down to see ten missed calls from your boyfriend.

"Shit," you mutter, the blue of the screen casting against your features.

“Jesus, Y/N, what does the prick want now?”

“I gotta go.” You feel a pang of guilt as you scramble to your feet, pulling your shirt over your head, barely able to meet his eyes. There’s disappointment in his face, though he quickly masks it, leaning back with that blank, almost indifferent look he’s perfected over the years.

He doesn’t say a word as you head back to the truck, but you can feel the weight of his gaze, a quiet understanding passing between you that neither of you knows how to put into words.

x flash forward x

“I left GSU when everything went to shit,” you reply, brushing off your jeans and glancing up at Daryl. “Been out here for weeks. What about you? How’d you end up alone out here?”

“I ain’t alone,” he mutters, adjusting the rope of squirrels draped over his shoulder.

You pause, meeting his eyes. “…Merle?”

He nods, and you exhale in relief. Merle was an asshole—an especially stupid one. But you knew how much he meant to Daryl, and growing up with him had made him feel like a rough, reluctant older brother to you too.

“Where are you guys camped out?” you ask, scanning the tree line.

“Couple miles from here,” he says, not quite looking at you.

He’s so quiet, answering only what you ask. It’s strange; you and Daryl always used to be at ease with each other. Even though GSU wasn’t far, it had been ages since you’d seen him, not since…you shake off the memory, not wanting to ruin the moment. Whatever went down back then didn’t matter now. You’re just glad to see him here, hoping the end of the world might be enough for both of you to move on.

“Do you…” you’re trying to read his anguished expression, “Can I come with you? What’s up?”

He lets out a sigh, shaking his head, “Yeah, yeah, ‘course you can. C’mon” he turns and walks away, kicking the biter as he passes. It’s a long, quiet walk back with Daryl. You trail behind him, head buzzing with questions. Where was he when things went bad? Was Merle with him the whole time? You were grateful to know their pops wouldn’t be with them now. Daryl’s dad had always been mean and angry, taking it out on his boys—and sometimes even on you. And his mom…she was like yours, hooked on the bottle, though she’d died years ago.

Suddenly, Daryl stops, and you stumble forward, bumping into his back. The squirrels brush your arm, making you pull away instinctively. He glances back with a smirk, jerking his head forward—the deer, the same one from the clearing, about twenty feet away, stands still in the clearing. Daryl raises his crossbow silently, and you reach for your kitchen knife, feeling his eyes on you as you do.

“It was the only thing I could grab,” you whisper with a shrug, catching the small grin on his face.

He just shakes his head, still smiling, as he moves forward with the quiet, practiced steps of a tracker. He’d tried teaching you once, back when things were simpler. You’d been clumsy at first, but you’d learned quick, picking up his tricks until you almost matched his silence.

x flashback x

“Shhh!” Daryl hisses from behind you. You’re making your way through the woods, rifle in hand, with Daryl’s crossbow at the ready. He’s pointing out tracks in the dirt, but you just stepped on a rock, sliding noisily over more stones, and a few birds scatter above.

“Could you stop yelling at me? I can't focus!” you whisper back, louder than you meant. He straightens, fixing you with a look.

“You wan’ learn how t’do this or nah?”

You roll your eyes, turning forward again and concentrating on your steps.

After a few more minutes of cautious trekking, Daryl’s hand touches your arm, stopping you. He points to the ground, where the small buck’s tracks press into the dirt. You smile, spotting the deer just ahead, grazing unaware. Daryl quietly lowers his crossbow as you ready the rifle, lifting it over your shoulder. He steps closer, his breath warm against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. His right arm slides beneath yours, steadying the stock, his left hand guiding your fingers on the trigger. Together, he angles the gun toward the buck’s heart.

But your hands are trembling, and before you can steady yourself, tears start slipping down your cheeks. Daryl pulls back slightly as a shaky sob escapes you.

“‘M sorry, Daryl,” you whisper, and the buck’s head snaps in your direction, alert. Daryl stands back, his expression unreadable.

“I just...can’t do it,” you say, dropping the rifle and covering your face, feeling frustrated and exposed. You’d been building up to this moment for days, learning the steps, trying to push yourself.

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, stepping forward and gently pulling your hands from your face. “S’alright, stop. C’mon, stop.” He holds your gaze, his hands firm on either side of your face. “First time’s always the hardest. S’okay.”

You clutch his arms, leaning into his steady presence as you stifle another sob. He shushes you softly, resting his cheek against yours, then wraps his arms around you in a warm, grounding embrace.

“S’okay,” he whispers into your hair.

x flash forward x

As you follow quietly and closely behind the buck, you take a moment to admire the Daryl you hadn't seen in years. He holds his crossbow with such precision, his biceps curling and flexing as he has it aimed up. The deer is out of sight for you now, making its way ahead, but you know Daryl has his eyes on other clues in the dirt for it. In your hazy thoughts you barely register the yelping sound, but you both make a run for it toward the noise. What surprises you is when you hear someone else ahead–a human voice.

Many human voices.

Chapter 2 is here

#daryl #daryl dixon #daryl fanfic #daryl fanfiction #daryl one shot #daryl x reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl twd #twd daryl #daryl dixion imagine #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #the walking dead fanfic

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alexthetrashyracoon · 1 month ago

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Fantasy au nobody asked for but I give you anyway.

Tags: Flowerfairy Reader, traveling mercenary Ghost, a bit of cursing, momentarily character death but we stay above the ground don't worry, a bit angsty but it gets a happy ending, I promise <3 (if that flops I'll cry)

Word count: 1350

"We shouldn't go this way." They flatly said and fluttered next to Ghost's face, brows in a pinch with their hands pressed against their rips. "It's dangerous."

Ghost grunted and swatted at them, not hard enough to hurt them or cause them to crash to the ground, but to get them out of his face. "You've been traveling with me long enough. You should know by now I don't care how dangerous it is as long as it gets me to the place I need to get." He says and leaves the cobbled path to take the short cut through the woods.

They huff and flutter after him. "I warned you."

It's been three months since Ghost met the little flower fairy, caught in some bandits' bottle. Ghost was hunting the group of bandits down, a big fat reward waiting for him when he brought back the leader, dead or alive it didn't matter.

So when he cleaned the camp, he found the bottle that had rolled under a sack and at first, Ghost had discarded it as trash, not looking twice at it but then he heard the little banging sound on glass and checked the bottle again, finding the little thing inside.

At first Ghost wasn't sure if he could believe his eyes. It wasn't everyday after all that someone came across a fairy, tiny human with wings on their back, but they pinched Ghost hard enough for him to believe it.

Ever since then Ghost allowed the fairy to graciously follow him, if they promised to keep their mouth shut, which they never truly did. They were talking all the time, chatting about whatever was on their mind. And Ghost, he would never admit that out loud, actually enjoyed the company for once. He was used to traveling alone, never bonding with others or keeping friendships alive for long. But something about the fairy was different.

At the end of the shortcut, Ghost finds himself standing in an opening that looks quite peaceful, not enough for him to drop his guard but the scenery is nice for a change.

He turns around to face the fairy who sits on his shoulder like usually when their wings get tired. They barely weigh anything more than a feather, even if he teases them all the time that if they keep eating so many cookies that he won't be able to keep walking with them on his shoulder. They always pout in return and don't talk to him for exactly ten minutes before chatting about some flower they have passed on their way.

"See. No danger around." Ghost grunts and decides it's time for a break, to replenish his strength and energy while enjoying a bit of nature's beauty. He puts down his backpack and sits down next to it. "Wake me in an hour."

The wake-up call never comes, or at least, not an hour later, but several hours, considering that the sun is going down right now and Ghost finds himself in a cage with his arms bound behind his back with rough rope. "The fuck is going on?" He asks, his tongue heavy as he speaks, eyes needing a few moments to focus again, ears still ringing, making hearing hard. Someone must have knocked him out cold when he took a nap, how embarrassing for someone like him to get caught off-guard by some amateur bandits.

Something... Someone, steps in front of the cage. "Look at that. The shithead who killed my brother is awake." That someone kicks the bars of the cage, making Ghost flinch at the rattling sound that comes with it.

He quickly gathers himself again, checking the guy outside the cage but not recognizing the person. "I killed many brothers... So, who the fuck are you?" Ghost asks, sounding overly confident, as always, even in situations where he should show a bit of restraint. Especially in situations like this.

The person grabs onto the bars of the cage and rattles them, baring his teeth like an animal. "You dick. I'll make you remember before... Hey! What the fuck! What is that?!" The bandit jumps and swats at something in the air but can't quite catch it.

Ghost's eyes widen, his fairy is back, he has been asking himself where they have gotten lost while he was in that cage. But he can't let their distraction be for nothing, he uses the chance to break the binding and steal the key from the bandits' leather belt to get out of the cage.

"Shit!" The bandit curses as he turns to look between Ghost and whatever is attacking him but decides to ultimately pay attention to Ghost, the bigger threat. Ghost's fairy uses the chance to get away to safety, leaving Ghost to fight without worrying about getting them into more danger.

It's clear as day that Ghost is no amateur and that there was no way in hell that the bandit would ever win. But somehow he managed to get away, right where Ghost's little fairy waited for him.

Ghost isn't fast enough to save them, he watches as the now bleeding bandit grabs the little fluttering thing and squeezes his hand shut until the noises stop and the forest completely falls silent.

He makes quick work of the bandit, he doesn't even look at his face as he cuts off his head. All he cares for is the little fairy in the bandits hand that's laying there, like a little doll, unmoving.

"Come now. Don't play with me, little fairy." Ghost says and picks their body up with shaking hands.

He never felt like this before, so damn helpless and clueless. What is he supposed to do? How can he turn back time to get his fairy back. The little chattering fairy that he learned to care for.

"I know you warned me it's dangerous... I should have listened." He says, not crying. He can't. He won't. Ghost never cries. Even if he wants to. "It's my fault you're dead. I'm sorry."

He remembers the promise they made a few weeks ago.

"Let's see the world together. You and I." They have happily announced back then and Ghost couldn't say now to their happy, smiling face. "Let's see the world together. You and I."

He would give his own life just for one more chance with them.

A single tear rolls down Ghost's cheek. It's more than he ever allowed himself before. It lands on their tiny body, staining their clothes.

Ghost searches for a spot to bury them, he knows they love flowers, so why not bury them in a field of them.

Just as he's finished with the hole in the ground, the air picks up, the breeze becomes warmer with flower petals and leaves flying through the air, surrounding him.

"That hole is way too small for someone as big as me."

Ghost knows that voice, he looks down only to find the body missing. Instead he sees naked feet, human feet standing in front of him, he looks up, following the long legs.

"How?" He asks, ignoring their nakedness and standing up, touching them, their humanly sized body. "I saw your dead body. He squeezed..."

"I don't know, Ghost. In my last moment I just remembered that we promised to travel the world together and when I opened my eyes again, I saw you on your knees, digging that hole." They explain with a smile, gratefully taking the woolen cloak from Ghost's hands and wrapping it around their shoulders. "I think Lady Fate is still not done with our story, Ghost."

At first it was a big change, gone was the tiny fairy fluttering around his head all the time, but Ghost quickly got used to seeing the other human next to him every night and day. Ghost had to teach them how to be human at first but he was sure that this was a challenge they would master too. One step at a time. And this time, Ghost would listen to his fairy turned human more often.

#simon riley #cod x gn!reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod mwii

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wosostories · 6 months ago

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Heath Sisters PT 1 (USWNT x Teen!Reader)

Masterlist

USWNT X Teen!Reader

Tobin is called up to her first national team camp. Along comes her sister as she has no where else to go.

This is a Reader story with Y/N, but I wrote it in third person because that made more sense in my head.

Part 1

“Come on Y/N, we’ve got to go. We’re going to miss our flight.” Tobin yells to her sister in the next room. “We need to be on time to make a good first impression.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Have you seen my shoes? I can’t find them. I’ve searched my entire room.”

“You can’t find them because they’re out here,” Tobin tells her sister, as she picks them up off the floor. “For once you put them where they are supposed to go.” Y/N bursts out of the next room and takes the holy shoes out of her sister’s hand.

“I really need to get you a new pair of those.”

“No you don't, they're fine.” Y/N states slipping them on. “I’m ready.”

“Good, the Uber’s here grab your bags.” Y/N grabs her bags and goes to walk out the door. Tobin grabs the back of her backpack. “You don’t need to worry about the money ok. That's my job. You can tell me when you need new things.”

“I-I know. I just can’t help but worry sometimes. I know that it’s hard with you trying to finish college and your last season of soccer. And you are worrying about the draft. I just,” she sighs, “I just don’t want to put more on your plate is all.”

Tobin gives her sister a small smile. “I know and thank you for worrying about me, but taking care of you is my job so let me do it please.”

Y/N gives her a nod, “Alright Kid, let’s get out of here.”

The sisters Tobin and Y/N head out of their apartment building and begin their ride to the airport.

“Do you think that anyone will have a problem with me being there?” Y/N asks her sister nervously once they’re settled in the car.

“I told you that I got it all cleared with coach. She knows that if she wanted me there that you would have to be there too. You have nothing to be worried about, ok. You’ve been worrying about things all day, can you take a deep breath for me?”

Y/N nods and sucks in a deep breath holding it before letting it go. “Feel better?”

“A little bit I guess. It’s just they may say that it’s good cause they want you there, but no one wants a kid hanging around. I’ll probably just end up getting in the way.”

“One you know that’s not true, you are great to be around. And two, do you plan on getting in the way?”

“Well no, but…”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Tobin looks down at her little sister and sighs, “And if there is a problem you know to just come to me and I’ll handle it. You know that I’ll protect you from everyone and everything.”

“I-I just don’t want to be a burden to anyone,” Y/N whispers.

“Kid… You could never be a burden to anyone, you know that.”

Y/N looks down to where she is picking at her fingers. Tobin takes them into her own and holds them still to keep Y/N from hiring herself, “You have to keep up with your own studies as well as with your own training. Club starts in like a month and you need to be ready.”

“Ya, but I don’t want to embarrass myself.”

“How would you do that?”

“I’m not as good as everyone else.”

“Why would you be? You haven’t been called up yet, not even to the youth team. You are still young and you still have time. Just play your game, you know that I’ll always be there to help you learn new tricks. And maybe some of the other girls will come help to. Give you some pointers. Then you are sure to get your own call up soon enough. And you’ll have a leg up on the other kids because you will already know what they are looking for.”

Tobin laughs as Y/N shrugs her shoulders and they spend the rest of the ride to the airport in silence curled up next to one another. They manage to make it through security and check in with no issues and make it to their flight to California on time.

After an exhausting five hour flight they touch down at LAX and are ready to get to the hotel.

“You have your back pack?” Y/N nods. “Perfect, let’s get our luggage and to the hotel for a nap.”

“And food?” Y/N asks quietly.

“Yes, and food.” Tobin’s bag is one of the first to come out, but when the last one comes they still havent seen Y/N’s both sisters start to panic a little.

“Tobs?” Y/N asks her sister. Her voice quite and almost scared.

“It’s ok. Just give it another minute,” Even though Tobin knew that it wasn’t coming and was already locating the nearest service desk.

When Tobin finally had enough of pretending to wait to make her sister feel better she led her over to the service desk where they got in line to ask about the luggage. It took about 15 minutes to get through the line and another 20 to locate the bag. “Looks like it got on the wrong flight and went to Florida. We can either put it on a flight here or one back to the New Jersey airport and you can pick it up upon your return.” The lady says.

“How long would it take to get here?"

“It will most likely get in early next week."

“We are only here for two weeks, just send it back to New Jersey.”

“But Toby…”

“It’s fine Kid, we’ll figure it out. Thank you for the help.” Tobin turns and leads Y/N out to find a car to the hotel.

“What are we going to do?” Y/N asks, tightening the grip on her back pack.

“What do you have in your backpack?”

“I have my school and soccer stuff.”

“Any clothes?”

“My soccer gear.”

“Alright, that will work for now. First we are going to go to the hotel, we are already running late.”

“Sorry.”

“Not your fault. Then we are going to eat, take a nap, and then see if there is some place where we can get you some clothes.”

“But we don’t have the…”

“I told you this morning that that isn’t something that you need to worry about. I’ll figure it out.”

“But…”

“I said don’t worry about it.” Tobin raised her voice a little, annoyed.

“S-sorry,” Y/N says again looking down at her feet, tears threatening to fall.

“Kid look at me,” Y/N doesn’t budge, Tobin kneels in front of her and gently grasps her shoulders. “Look at me, Kid. I’m sorry, I’m just a little frustrated at the situation, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. None of this is your fault. Accidents happen and we’ll figure it out.”

“Promise?”

Tobin sighs again, “Ya Kid I promise.”

Tobin stands and pulls out her phone to call an Uber as they make their way outside. Tobin stops as she feels a tug on her sleeve. “What is it Kid?” Y/N points to a couple of people in front of them holding a sign that reads ‘Heath’.

Part 2

#woso x reader #uswnt x reader #woso #teen reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #uswnt imagine #fanfic #reader insert #tobin heath #tobin heath x sister reader #sister reader #platonic #family #team as family

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cerys-scribbles · 1 year ago

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sweet on the tongue

Halsin x f!Reader A bit of fluff and yearning Wordcount: 1.5k

You always looked over the abandoned wagons and backpacks.

It was an old habit, born of a time when coin was scarce. You’ve always had an eye for shiny things - the gleam of jewelry, the graceful curve of a gem, and the glitter of a bottle. You never knew when you might find a small treasure.

Some of the others mocked you for it. Astarion, in particular, seemed to enjoy the sight of you rummaging through crates. “Your pack is so full you’ll have to find a rothe to carry it,” he called, that crooked grin tugging at his mouth.

“I can carry my own pack,” you replied, with a dismissive wave. “And what do you care?”

“Merely concerned for your posture, darling. If you become a hunched over crone in your thirties, it would be a tragedy.”

You snorted. “That’s rich, coming from the one with the outdated vocabulary and the white hair.”

He placed a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “It’s not white, it’s silver.”

“Children,” called Gale. “You’re going to get left behind if you dawdle.”

The others had continued on. The path wound through the mountains, toward the Githyanki creche. Lae’zel was far ahead, her long strides carrying her forward with a grim determination. It was no wonder she was eager; the prospect of ridding yourself of the tadpole was an intriguing one. But even so, you felt the pull to pick through every crate.

Your diligence was rewarded when you found a gleam of gold tucked within a sack. You pulled it free. It was a jar.

“Come on!” called Astarion, and you hastily shoved the jar into your own pack. You would look at it more closely later.

It was hours after, once camp had been set up, that you investigated your finds. You picked through the small trinkets, sorting through which ones could be sold and which ones discarded. You were so single-minded that you didn’t notice the smells of food or call to dinner. It was only when someone stood over you that you looked up.

Halsin towered over you. The sunset gave his hair a golden cast, and he was smiling. “You’ve been busy,” he said mildly.

You sat back, only now feeling the ache in your lower back. “Oh. I was distracted.” You gestured at the piles of trinkets, feeling mildly embarrassed. Would he think it was silly? “Did I miss dinner?”

“I set some aside for you.” Halsin put the plate down on a fallen log. It looked like a surprisingly tasty stew. “It’s a little cold.”

“I don’t mind,” you said. “Thanks for bringing it.” It shouldn’t have surprised you that Halsin was the one to notice you weren’t eating; he was observant in camp, quiet and watchful. His tent was pitched along the outskirts. Part of you wondered if it was because he wished to remain near nature or to make himself the first line of defense should anyone attack camp. It was likely both.

He squatted down, eyeing your finds. “May I ask what it is you’re doing?” He reached out, gently sifting through the knotted chains and one half of an earring.

You flushed. “I just… you might have noticed I tend to pick things up.”

“I had noticed, yes,” he said, a touch of dry humor in his voice. But there was no mockery to it. “Do you sell them?”

You shrugged. “It helps. I can buy a little food, maybe weapons or medicine for camp. We can hunt, of course, but we still need things. And it’s not as though we have a noble patron.” You snorted. “Well, we do have Wyll, but I know he’d protest that title.”

“He would,” agreed Halsin. “He seems far more happy being the Blade of Frontiers rather than a duke’s son.” He tilted his head, gaze flicking over the assortment of trinkets. “Can I help?”

“I mean,” you said, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” His gaze met yours and you felt another flush rise to your cheeks. “It’s better to have something to do with one’s hands.”

You both began to work, untangling chains of necklaces and sorting through your findings. There were coins from several cities, jewelry that was junk and one piece that might sell, along with forgotten letters. You set those aside. “I’ll give them to a messenger or the like if we reach Baldur’s Gate,” you said, when you caught Halsin’s eye. “Maybe those letters will reach their destination.”

“That’s kind of you, to carry them without any hope of reward.”

You gave him a little shrug. “It’s not as though they weigh very much.”

“Still,” he said. “You have a good heart.”

Your cheeks burned even hotter. Halsin disarmed you in a way that none of the other companions could. There were no deceptions, no games to played, no secrets to ferret out. Halsin was simply… Halsin. He was undemanding and kind.

And all right. He was gorgeous—you’d admit that to yourself. You’d had a few fantasies of him picking you up and kissing you, but you tried to tamp them down. You didn’t want your desires to leak into your conversations and make him uncomfortable. You were friends and that was more than enough.

Finally, you pulled out the jar. You had almost forgotten about it. “What is that?” asked Halsin.

You held it up to the fading sunlight. “Preserves, I think. Whether or not they’re edible… well, I’m not sure how we find out.”

Halsin chuckled. “Opening it would be the first step.”

It took a knife and a fair bit of prying to get the jar open, but the moment you did, your mouth watered.

Raspberries floated in a thick, golden liquid. They had been preserved in honey. The sweet scent floated out of the jar and you swallowed.

“Well, well,” said Halsin. “A pleasing find, if my opinion matters.”

You remembered what he had said when you tried to get to know him better: that he enjoyed sweet things. “You can have it,” you said, holding out the jar.

He shook his head, a smile on his lips. “We’ll share it.”

You didn’t have a spoon, but Halsin had a few carved ones in his pack. He unearthed it and you gasped. It was intricate and beautiful—a woven pattern made up the handle. “It’s gorgeous.” You knew he whittled, but this was a work of art.

He looked pleased but embarrassed. “I’ve had much practice. It’s yours, if you like it.”

You dipped the spoon into the honeyed raspberries. Then you popped the spoon into your mouth. Tart sweetness spilled across your tongue. You closed your eyes and moaned softly. Perhaps you should have found a loaf of bread or something else to cut the cloying sweetness, but you did not care. It had been weeks since you enjoyed anything so luxurious.

“Oh, it’s amazing,” you said, holding out the jar to Halsin. “Try some.”

His gaze was not on the jar—but on you. “You have some,” he said quietly, holding out his hand. “May I?”

You didn’t know what you were agreeing to, but even so you nodded. You trusted him.

His thumb—warm and callused—slid across your chin. A small tendril of honey had stuck there. “Oh,” you said, laughing a little. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Not at all.” He licked the honey from his thumb—and you could have sworn his pupils dilated as he looked at you. “It tastes all the sweeter.”

Heat churned in your stomach. You knew you should break that gaze, look away before this became all too intimate, but you didn’t want to. Your breaths quickened, and you thought you saw his gaze fall to your mouth. Was he going to kiss you? At once, your lips ached for it. You needed his touch more than you needed air or warmth or even a cure.

His fingers brushed your cheek. But before he could utter a word, a voice rang out from across camp.

“I can see you eating something over there!” called Astarion. “If you get sick from fare you found along the road, I am not carrying your pack.”

The mood was broken in an instant. You looked down, half-wondering if you had imagined the moment.

“You won’t have to,” called Halsin sounding as good-natured as ever. “I’ll carry it for her.”

You swallowed. Perhaps you hadn’t imagined it, after all.

End

#halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3

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anacdoce · 7 months ago

Text

Home at last

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader)

Rating: T

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: comfort/angst; feeling fear.

Summary: “This is your home now. Our home. I won’t need to invite you in anymore.”

You give Astarion a home. A safe place to finally live the life he deserves.

But is he really safe? Can you keep him safe?

a/n: This oneshot episode is somehow connected to my long fic "I Wish" and it can give you some insight to the 4th chapter ("Haunted by a wish"), but it can perfectly be read independently.

Hope you enjoy it 🖤

Read on oa3

After bidding farewell to all your companions, you leave the Elfsong Tavern and make your way to your cottage near the woods on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate.

The past few months have been chaotic, and all you want now is peace, at least for a time.

But you are not alone. Your lover is with you. He is part of your life now, and you are part of his. And Astarion will not pass one more day alone in his life if it depends on you. So you asked him to live with you, and he promptly agreed, as if he had been hoping for the invitation.

“Darling, you could have chosen a better place for your house. Why so far away from the city?” He asks, swatting at a cloud of mosquitoes on your path.

“I like the woods. It's peaceful here. You’ll like it too. Give it time.”

“Hurgh… I doubt it, my dear.”

After a long while, you arrived at the place. A beautiful cottage in a field of wheat, illuminated by the moonlight. You smile at the sight. How you missed this place. You can't wait to take a bath in your tub, and preferably with the company of the irresistible pale elf standing beside you.

You approach the house and start pulling out the weeds that have grown up in front of the door.

Astarion stands behind you, scrutinizing the surroundings. “Huh… Sweetheart, are you sure it's here?”

“Well, I lived here for a long time, so yes, Astarion, I'm sure.” You open the door and step inside, trying to remember where you left the candles to light them.

Astarion reaches the door, but stays outside, leaning against the door jamb, with his arms crossed against his chest, waiting.

Once the candles are lit, you start rushing around, putting things in order. You don't want Astarion to think that you are a disorganized person. Well, maybe you are… just a little. But first impressions are important, are they not?

But didn't he share a camp with you for the past few months? So he must know, mustn't he? Will he enjoy living with you? Just the two of you, day and night?

He clears his throat, catching your attention and interrupting your thoughts and your sudden need to put everything in order, after being months away.

“Why are you still outside? Is it that bad?” You ask, thinking that maybe this was not the best idea, bringing him here. Too modest and simple for his taste, for sure.

“Darling, you have to invite me in.”

“Oh…” The realization hits you. “I'm sorry. Right. Please, come in.” You extend your hand to him, and he accepts it, stepping inside. Close to him, you kiss his cheek. “This is your home now. Our home. I won’t need to invite you in anymore.”

He looks at you, surprised. “My home?”

“Of course! We are together, are we not? I really meant it when I said I wanted to share my life with you, Astarion.” You stroke his soft, curly hair before turning away, leaving him with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he admires you tenderly while you return to your affairs in the house.

Gods! How is it possible to have so many spider webs!

You run back and forth again, and Astarion stays put, right next to the door, uncomfortable, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, you notice him and you stop beside him. You take his backpack off his shoulder, setting it down, on the floor, near you. “Please, make yourself comfortable. You’ll have all my attention in a minute, I promise.” You gently push him toward your bedroom. “Why don't you go in there and choose your side of the bed?”

Once again he looks surprised with your words, but walks into the room, slowly examining everything around him. You give yourself the pleasure to watch him for a moment, while he wanders around. Astarion stops in front of a small vanity, facing the bed, and he touches your things – your comb, some necklaces hanging from the mirror, an open book covered in dust. It’s as if your life was on hold, and he has the honor to be there, to resume it with you.

“Is this supposed to be you?” He holds up a small rag doll that resembles you, in a way.

“Yes. It was my father’s. He made it for me. It's lovely, isn't it?”

“It is.” Then he brings the doll and sets it on one of the night stands beside the bed. “I’ll take this side.”

“It's a great choice.” You smile at him and leave, returning to your house chores that need an urgent attendance.

After some time he is in the living room, studying your bookcases. He stays there for a while, and then you catch him rearranging some things, swapping and replacing, giving his touch to the place. In that moment your heart swells with affection for this man – your man – making your house his.

He sits in an armchair, next to the fireplace, shifting his body as he tests the seat. “It's not so bad after all.” Astarion concludes.

“What isn’t?”

“This house. I think I can live here.” He says, smirking.

“Thank the Gods!” You laugh, and he joins you.

“You know, your laugh was one of the things that helped me get through our previous adventures. I love hearing you laugh, my darling, and I’m committed to making you laugh for the rest of your life.” Astarion taps his thigh, inviting you to sit on his lap. And who are you to refuse such a request?

As soon as you reach him, he embraces you, nestling you against him. His hands on your back, brushing gentle circles over your shirt. “Thank you. This is nice.” He kisses you. The silkiest lips you ever felt. A lingering soft kiss. Then you feel his fingers searching for the waistline of your shirt, pushing it upwards, caressing your skin beneath. His grip tightens, and his kiss grows hungrier.

His enthusiasm is rising, and yours is too. You hear his softs moans as he pulls you closer and closer. Gods! How does he have such power over you? Your body is already screaming for him, and he knows it. His mischievous grin doesn't fool you.

He unbuttons your shirt, caressing your breast while doing it, and when he is about to do the same to your trousers you suddenly remember something. Something urgent. Your breath trapped in your throat.

“Astarion, my love, this will have to wait, I'm afraid…” The words are dragging from your mouth, but you can’t let yourself get lost in his arms just yet.

“What is it, Darling? Can’t it wait a little longer?” He purrs, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck to your collarbone.

“The sun won't wait for us, Astarion.” He stops and looks at you as you point to the windows without any kind of sun blocking throughout the whole house.

“Oh… I see.” He clears his throat, shifting your body on his lap, loosening his hold. “Maybe we should do something about that first.”

You nod your head and reluctantly lift yourself from his lap, arranging your clothes and catching your breath.

After a while, both of you try to cover all the windows in a rush, because the sun is almost rising. You use everything that could be useful – old thick blankets, some unused wooden strips that you had saved.

You do your best to hurry, but panic starts to set in. The sky is getting brighter outside, and you still have windows to cover. I should have remembered this! How could I forget? But no… all I could think were those stupid spider webs! Because I wanted everything perfect for him, to make him feel at home. Safe. And I forgot the most important thing… “Astarion, we’re not going to get all the windows covered in time.”

“I guess not. Maybe we can close the doors and minimize the daylight in the house.”

“Yes we can do that. And if what we did isn’t enough? What if the sunlight still gets in? What then?”

“Well… I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.” His face, worried.

“What? No. That won't do.”

You remember when the effects of the tadpole had abandoned him, how his flesh started to burn, and how he fled from you, running through Baldur’s Gate docks, trying to find some shadows to hide from the sun.

You remember how you chased him in panic and you remember when you catched him, curled up behind some crates, shaking.

You won’t let that happen again. He is your whole world, and you are his safe place. You won’t fail him. Ever.

You swallow the fear that grows inside you, and know what you have to do. Your heart aches with the thought, but it's the only way. You have to be sure that the house is safe. “You will have to wait inside that closet, please.” Your hands, trembling.

“What? Are you asking me to lock myself in there?” He asks incredulously.

“Please Love… I know it's not the perfect plan, but I’d never forgive myself if something happens to you in our home…” He looks at you with some sadness. “Please, Star… just let me make sure everything is okay.”

He walks defeated to the closet, his curse robbing him, once again, one of the happiest moments of his life. He curls up inside it. “It will always be like this, won't it? Running, hiding, being afraid?”

“No it won't. I promise. We just have to adapt. I will give you the life you deserve.” You lift his chin, leaning to him and kiss his lips, wanting nothing more than to hold him in your arms. But that will have to wait. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I make sure it’s safe for you to come out.” He lowers his head, hiding it between his knees, enveloped by the shadows. Your heart shatters at his sight, and you know you will be haunted by it for a long time.

You leave him, closing the closet’s door behind you. You breathe deeply once and then you move on to continue the unfinished work. Shortly after, the sun is shining outside. You close the doors from the rooms with windows still uncovered, and where you stand, only darkness remains. No sunlight can reach you. Astarion is safe.

You run to the closet, opening it, and leap into his arms, holding him, satisfying your craving to embrace him once again. “I’m sorry, my love. I’m so sorry!” Your voice trembles with anguish.

He holds you close, his hand on the back of your head, burying his face on your neck crock. “It’s alright, my sweet. Everything is alright.”

“It’s not! I wanted it to be perfect. But I keep forgetting important details. Maybe I can’t keep you safe after all.”

“Darling, you’ve given me more than I ever imagined I deserve. And I’ve never felt safer than with you by my side. It can’t be more perfect than that.”

“I love you.” You mutter, feeling your heart soothing with his embrace.

“And I love you, my treasure.”

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ijustwantogethigh · 8 months ago

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¿so, like the myth?

Percy Jackson x Daughter of Amphitrite reader

n/a:some fluff, percy being a stalker, y/n being just a girl, mentions of greek mythology, AMPHITRITE RAAAAAAHHHH

yeah! i love her, she is my mother, self indulgent? maybe, aged-up characters, mentions of sTalking but nothin' super dark, this is nothing like i'am used to writte! enjoy muack muack.

sorry for not writting in litteral month, y'know, not inspired like- never, i hope you'd like this!

Words: 1202

Reading Time: 4m 22s.

˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚˖°𓇼🌊⋆🐚

when she first arrived at the camp, she was..like a normal girl, nothing special! but.. the way she smiles, how she is so gentle with nature, and the thing that got his attention in first place, was the fact that she spent so much time in the lake, looking at the water but never, never touching it or going to swim at least.

And when the camp was at the bonfire, she always was in the lake, he obviously never talked to her! but there was something more in her that make him so attracted to her, she wasn’t claimed yet, maybe she was an athena daughter, or an aphrodite child tho, maybe a demeter daughter, she was still in hermes cabin, I was thinking while zooming out in her direction, until Annabeth wake me up from my delusions.

‘’Hey, seaweed brain! Why are you looking at her? that’s creepy..’’ she says, almost laughing at him, she was reading a new book that chiron translated to her, but when percy stopped yapping about how bored he was, she caught him.

Looking at the most recent camper y/n l/n, a very sweet girl, very kind with the kids and a very energetic demigod, she was sitting by the side of the lake, on a towel, the shadow of the trees heading at the lake covering her almost completely, reading and talking to the girls and boys who pass by her side.

‘’mmh? What are you saying annie? didn’t hear you..’’ he says, automatically, he can’t stop his curiosity to show up in every moment, or in every moment he sees her, almost like magic.

‘I WAS saying , stop looking at her, se will think you are a weirdo and probably wouldn’t talk t you..even she does-’’ she was going to start augmenting that, that girl didn’t know he existed, well she probably knew who the amazing percy jackson was, but had no idea how, he was.

‘’Stop Annie, I just don’t know how to talk to her, you know? it’s like- i need to talk to her but i don’t know why i can’t talk to her, and yeah, maybe she doesn’t not know me, but either i know her!.’’ He expressed his frustration to her best friend, and he did know why he didn’t talk to her. The shame of ruining it or not making a good impression terrorizes him.

‘’don’t mortified perce, what if she likes you back mmh?’’

For the rest of the day, Annabeth's words rested in his head all day.

and, a month since that conversation has passed, just like that lake water, she was in the same spot, doing what she was doing a month before, but something was new, this time it was late,she was using a blue bikini, with a white shirt on top, and reading, he hesitated his actions for a moment, but ¿if wasn’t this the right moment, when the right moment began?

and, doubting, in every step he’d take, he walked by her side, and it all started with a ‘’hey, are you always here?’’ like he never stalked her, in annabeth's words, and a cute friendship began..yeah friendship.

Now, both of them were sitting in a calurus day, not even the shadow of the trees could make them cool. It was late again, like 6:25 pm, everyone was on the lake, refreshing and trying to have a good time while helios wanted to burn them.

‘’we should step on the water, and..y’know.. swim i’am burning here N/n’’ he spoke, groaning, trying to catch ‘’his girl’’ attention, but she frowned,

‘’why? the water probably is warm and we are gonna burn, sun causes cancer perce, did you bring sunscreen?’’

she put her book down, looking at him while sitting and grabbing something from his backpack.

‘’Why in the world would I need sunscreen? I’am son of poseidon! that sound ridiculous y/n.’’

‘’Well, I have no godly mother but I need sunscreen. I don't want a sunburn.’’

she says while putting sunscreen in her face, arms, legs and stomach.

‘’so..are we going to swim or nah?’’

and both of them walked into the water, the sun wasn’t strong and in fact, the water was warm, there weren't a lot of campers, most of them were in his cabins, or doing his duties, no one was prepared for it.

percy was looking at her while she was swimming and heading her back at him, she summergerd and take a pair of seconds to come back to the surface,and, in above his lover’s head, appear a trident, upside down, with a seashell crown, illuminated by a slightly bluish light.

he was speechless, then she saw it, and looked up, she gasped in surprise and horror, as a deep voice talked, Chiron, repeating.

‘’welcome to the camp, Y/n L/n, daughter of Amphitrite, goddess of the sea, consort of poseidon’’

he looked at her, he was more shocked than her, but she was having s lot of emotions, she laughed, the she cried, and at the end she was angry, she was hitting the water, and murmuring between her teeth, but she started stomping out of the water, all angry.

‘’h-hey, wait f’me y/n!’’ he start walking of the water, but she didn’t run away, she sat on the towel as she looked at the water, slowly moving with the air.

‘’are you okay? how’d you feel?’’

‘’i feel like a dam truck ran me over’’

he smiled and sat by her side, trying to comfort her, he hugged her all wet.

‘’why you feel like that mmhh? i know, it’s hard when you first find out, but believe me, is not that bad’’

but she sighed, and lean over his shoulder.

‘’i don’t..know, it feels odd…maybe that’s why the ocean call me, or whatever she did..’’

‘’what are you- she call, you?’’

‘’something like that, she called me ‘’my little starfish, come with mama’’ i thought it was someone who wanted to drown me’’

He laughed, and kissed her temple. He felt like he could do it, well her mother and his father were married..so..eh better not think of it.

but she laughed, but she came back to her sad expression.

‘’but amphitrite is a minor goddess, she doesn’t have a cabin, where the heck i'm sleeping at?’’

‘’Well, your mother and my father are married, both god and goddess from the sea, so we are like, half siblings or we’re married-?’’

she hitted his arm, laughing and blushing.

‘’let’s go to our cabin perce, i'm getting cold’’

she says as she stands up, grabbing her tote bag and the towel, heading back to the camp.

‘’but first let's get dinner, i'm hungry’’

‘’of course, miss starfish’’

‘’shut up, seaweed brain’’.

and both start walking, side by side, holding each others hand, maybe, it was just like the myth.

#pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus

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eimids · 1 year ago

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Emotional support water bottle

Lionesses x reader

This is again just a quick blurb. It’s 3 am I jist found out something that literally makes me sick so I had to write something not so dark. Literally reader and her water bottle.

Warnings: none

words: idk but very short

You carried your water bottle where ever you went. Going shopping? Water bottle is a must. Practice? Obviously you’ll have your bottle. Going to the bathroom? Water bottle. Teammeatings? Water bottle. Even in restaurants? You had your water bottle in your bag.

At that point it was just like a support animal for you. It was always with you and you would freak out if you didn’t have it. Your teammates at england loved to tease you about it.

It started when Lotte noticed you carrying it around during one camp. She thought it was funny how you just carried it everywhere and how you would freak out if you lost it. She made a comment about it to Alessia who obviously told Toone. You were oblivious to their snickering behind your back. They thought it was cute how your water bottle meant so much to you.

You were the baby of the group, usually hanging with Less and Toone. You were known for always smiling and laughing with others. You always tried to make others happy. ‘The ray of sunshine’ as you were known. Along with Esme, you were the joy of the team. But that also came with some naïvety. A lot of your teammates were protective over you. Especially Lucy.

Lucy and you got along really well since the first camp you were called up to. She was your football mom in England and in every game if someone hurt you, she would make sure that the opposite player got the same treatment.

During the next camp the word of you and your water bottle had been whispered around to everyone in the team. Leah’s favorite thing was to hide it somewhere so you’d have to look for it and get all pouty about it.

One day during a team meeting you barged into the room late.

“Where is my water bottle? Has anyone seen it? I have to find it before the game tomorrow.” You blurted out. Stopping Sarinas speech that she was giving.

Leah bursted out laughing. After that so did some of the other girls. You were confused, what were they laughing about?

“Y/n sweetie, look at your backpack” Lucy said simply.

You took your backpack off of your back and there it was. Your oh so dear water bottle in the side of the backpack. You even made Sarina laugh at your antics even though you did interrupt her. Smile took over your face as you sat down next to Lucy and buried your head to her neck in embarrassment. Lucy just put her arms around you and then Sarina was able to continue.

Another thing that was very known to your teammates was your need to pee. 24/7. Leah could swear that every time she saw you, you would say ‘i need to pee’. It was hilarious to your teammates.

Your obsession with your water bottle came up in an interview when the interviewer was asking some questions from the team members. The first question was just ‘Who has the worst dance moves’ some said Lucy and some Hemph. The next question was ‘Who’s most likely to have a support stuffed animal with them during camp’ Pretty much everyone in the team said your name but continued that you didn’t have a support stuffie but rather support water bottle.

It was only when that interview came to Lionesses tiktok that you realized that the whole team had low key made fun of you and your water bottle. But in a good and loving way. They were your family although you would hear endless teasing about that damn water bottle.

—

it’s me, i’m y/n and i have an obsession with my water bottle.

#lionesses #lucy bronze #leah williamson #ella toone #alessia russo #wlw post #woso x reader

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lavender-romancer · 10 months ago

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Push it Down

Astarion x GN Reader

Everyday it got worse, the longing stares interrupted when La’zel would curiously catch your eyeline always straying to Astarion. Or how you would always inextricably walk next to him regardless of the goal ahead. Shadowheart would often question if Astarion had to open “every lock we find” at your request. But you couldn't help it, being near him, with him was all you would think about

AN: Astarion brainrot is a real condition people. Lots of lovely fluff.

You're a squishy wizard

*°*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°•.˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”°*

“Do you have to make your feelings so obvious that it's painful?” Shadowheart asked as you looked through some random boxes you found in what remained of moonhaven.

“Do you have to bring this up again?” You jabbed back with a smile. “I'm not ashamed of it, but I will never outright admit it.”

“Lady of Sorrows guide you, I don't know how you're able to stand with your debilitating lack of a spine.” She raised her eyebrow and you simply rolled your eyes “Here, go give these to your boy-toy.” Handing you a few thieves' tools Shadowheart walked to another side of the room and continued looting.

You scampered outside, only realising when you were in front of Astarion how desperate it must have looked to run up to him like a dog wagging its tail excitedly. He was unlocking a chest that was one in a big group La'zel and Karlach had put together for him to deal with.

“Here,” you held out the tools with a smile that was much too big for such a small token.

“Thank you, darling.” He smiled up at you. “You're looking particularly overjoyed, what's got you so energetic?”

“Uh… looting.” You never were good at lying.

“Thank the Gods you never became a politician because your inability to deceive is one of your greatest qualities.” He opened the chest he had been working on.

“I suppose. But I wish I was better at more things like that, it just makes me so nervous to not be honest.” You fidgeted with your hands.

“Well, for starters you need to be better at improvising, it is adorable to see you try and lie to anyone and fail miserably. I'm convinced you should just be completely honest and people might not believe you.” Standing up he brushed the dust off his trousers and you were now face to face. Given, a few steps apart but it still made you smile and your feet shuffle anxiously.

“The tadpole has definitely made me better at lying, you have to at least admit that.” You were practically beaming, staring at him in awe.

“Still, you carry most of your emotions in your eyes and your inability to stop smiling. You'll get there eventually my friend, probably, I mean probably not but it's very sweet that you continue to try. Anyways, we should head back to camp for the evening I am positively spent.” Astarion walked past you to pick up his backpack and you internally groaned.

It was so deeply embarrassing when you couldn't keep your emotions hidden. A problem you had usually put down to anxiousness, but realistically it was just something you had to learn to live with. You were an open book with almost no air of mystique about you. Maybe that was why Astarion seemed so utterly uninterested in seeking anything but friendship or a quick night of passion.

As you lay in your tent, you conjured a mage hand to throw books at you to try and practice your telekinesis but it was going dreadfully. Whilst your magic was growing back to it's former strength before the tadpole you were still plagued by poor reaction times to basically anything. One quite powerful throw from the conjured hand hit your arm and you yelped, sure that it would leave a bruise.

“What mischief are you up too now?” A voice suddenly asked, distracting you from the task at hand as a book hit you square in the face.

“Fuck!” You exclaimed, dismissing the mage hand and rubbing your nose.

“Are you trying to be agile again? You know how that ended up last time.” Astarion joked as he entered your tent and sat down opposite you.

A funny but painful memory entered your mind when you had tried to climb over a very small wall to surprise some goblins and had instead ended up on your back in front of them. If falling over in front of some goblins wasn't bad enough, you had also slipped in grease that was extremely easy to avoid alerting the whole horde to your party's location. The bollocking you got from La'zel after that encounter made you promise to work on your ability to not be “such a fucking Wizard” whatever that meant.

“No, surprisingly I was failing at something else.” You quipped back at him, “anyways, did you want to feed or-”

“No, well yes but, I wanted to talk to you.” He licked his lips absentmindedly and seeing the slight glint of his fangs off the light of your candle made your eyes grow wider. You never knew you'd have a thing for vampires…

“Oh! Do uhm, talk away.” You cringed at your inability to string a sentence together.

“I- look. I know that I am beautiful and wonderful darling, but have you been looking at me slightly differently lately?” he asked, you could almost sense that he was nervous but you weren't sure why.

“What do you mean?” You responded with your eyes fixated on your bedroll on the floor as the alarm bells rang in your head.

“With more longing behind your eyes?” You hadn't noticed that same longing in his eyes which was often present in your gaze.

“Who- I- why did you get that impression?” You fumbled through your words and began fiddling with your robe.

“Oh, I…” he trailed off and you finally looked up, sensing his dejected tone you cocked your head.

“You sound disappointed.” Your tone was soft in an attempt to stop him from running away from the conversation.

“Disappointed? Darling if I wanted you I could most certainly have you.” Having returned to his snarky sense of security you frowned.

“Is that why you seem so annoyed? Because I rejected you before?” Your mind went back to drinking red wine with him, the sour taste filling your nose all over again. It wasn't that you didn't want him, you just didn't want the first time you could spend the night with him to be clouded with alcohol and regret. Maybe it had bruised his ego but there were so many reasons to try to let your bond grow overtime.

“You think that wounded me? I have laid with thousands and I'll lay with thousands more before I am hurt by that!” He exclaimed but you could see the hurt in his eyes that he struggled to hide.

“I didn't want it to be like that. Something that you might feel like was a mistake, a drunken mishap you'd rather forget. I didn't- I don't want you to think I did it because I did not want it. Under different circumstances things would have been different for me.” Clasping your hands together you tried to reach his gaze but it was so accusatory that it was making your heart pound.

“I- I don't think I've ever been rejected as tactfully as you did.” Astarion almost laughed with a far-away look in his eyes.

“It didn't feel genuine and I couldn't allow myself to be swept up in all of it knowing that we weren't on the same page with our feelings about one another.” Smiling sadly you looked at the book that had previously hit you in the face, pushing it to the side you moved a bit closer to him. “I'm sorry that you felt like you had to do that, that night I mean. Correct me if I'm wrong, please.”

“I'm not sure how you know me so well that it's almost concerning.” His voice sounded strained as he departed from his snarky performative notes.

“You've become my favourite distraction through all of this shit we've dealt with. I really like being around you, it will be a shame when it all comes to an end when we get to Baldurs Gate.” your voice didn't show your true sadness but your eyes certainly did and Astarion could tell.

“I was hidden for so many years within those city walls, imprisoned and kept as a loyal pet before the nautiloid. A grim reality was the only way to escape the even worse life I was living and… I never thought I'd make friends let alone feel connected to someone. But you, you're thoughtful and sweet and respectful and too perceptive for your own good but so silly and honestly so bad as hiding that it's hilarious. Finding someone who understands you is a great gift and I would not like to squander it.” Astarion reached out his hand and it shook slightly as he showed his true vulnerability. You looked from his hand to his face, it was genuine and really from everything you could gather, it seemed like he was being the most honest he'd ever been with you.

“You want to stay together?” Your voice was so hopeful as your head told you that you were an idiot.

“Yes. You fool. Was that not clear. Now hold my hand so we're not both fools.” He rolled his eyes and you hurriedly held his hand. Your clamminess was immediately obvious given his hand was ridiculously cold. “God you mortals are always sweaty aren't you.” He gave you a cheeky smile and you had to laugh or you'd descend into an anxiety ridden madness.

“Do you want to stay here tonight? I would enjoy a cuddle.” You asked.

“Just a cuddle Darling?” He flirted but there was still that look behind his eyes that was there after the tiefling party. The look you had come to understand was the dogma drilled into him to seduce, sleep with and then sacrifice all his conquests. Sex wasn't the same in Astarion's head as it was in yours but you didn't mind, it wasn't important to you.

“Just a cuddle.” You smiled in a way that you hoped was supportive and whilst he looked surprised he didn't seem disappointed. “Come here,” you lay down on the pillows and invited him to chest.

Whilst tentative he rested his head on your chest and slowly placed his hand on your arm. You without warning wrapped your arms around him in a squeeze of a hug that would probably suffocate someone who wasn't already dead. But he seemed to appreciate it as he nuzzled under your chin and his body began to relax. You stayed like that for a while until you began to snore and Astarion peeled himself from your embrace. He sat up and started to read, every so often glancing down at you. How an earth had he allowed himself to fall for a Wizard?

Astarion Taglist:

@anukulee

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enmstorytime · 1 month ago

Text

The Hike

My two best friends and I decided to take a month off to hike a portion of the Pacific Crest Trail last summer. In preparation for the hike, we gathered all of our supplies together the week before and divvied them up between backpacks. In order to give us opportunities to take walking breaks we decided to pack a light backpack, a medium backpack and a heavy backpack.

Our heavy backpack held our food, and our cooking supplies. The medium backpack held all of our night supplies: the toiletries, the tent, the camp chairs. Our light backpack held our clothes. All of our spare clothes. We liked the idea of rotating through the backpacks.

But on the second day, we stopped on a cliffside for our lunch break. I was carrying the light backpack, the one with all the clothes we brought, except the clothing we currently had on.

I don't know if I can be blamed, but my friends certainly thought I could be. I didn't place the backpack right by the cliff face, but I propped it up against a tree near the cliff face.

The small earthquake hit about fifteen minutes after we had stopped for our break. We watched the earth ripple, and held onto each other, not realizing until it was too late that our lightest backpack had slid from its pace positioned against the tree, and was inching toward the cliff face.

We watched in horror as one final ripple of the earth bounced the backpack with all our spare clothes off the side of the sheer cliff wall, down, down, down.

"Fuck," one of my friends shouted. "Goddamn, shit, fuck, fuck."

"Our clothes," the other friend stated the obvious. "That was all of our spare clothes."

"Spare clothes?" The first friend asked, "Spare clothes. Those were just our fucking clothes. Do you expect me to finish this month in the same underwear I'm wearing right now?"

"We can wash our clothes," I said, trying to talk my friends down from the catastrophe I worried they'd blame me for.

"We can wash our clothes?" My first friend asked. "You want me to strip naked and climb into the river with my cock out to wash the only clothes I have left for the month?"

"Yeah," my other friend pitched in. "You got some homoerotic fantasy about us all bending over in the river, asses out, scrubbing our clothes together?"

I did in fact have some homoerotic fantasy about watching my two best friends with the water of a river matting their pubes to their dicks while they scrubbed their clothes. My imagination also moved onto imagining them airdrying in the nude, laid out on sunlit river rocks while their clothes dried beside them.

"Wasn't it your bright idea to put our clothes so close to that cliff?" One of my friends asked.

"I couldn't predict an earthquake," I said.

"This is fucking California," he replied. "Couldn't predict an earthquake, my ass."

"Yeah," my other friend said. "If this had cost you your clothes, that would be one thing, but now we all have to pay the price for your stupidity."

"Look," I said. "I'm sorry. If I could make it up to you, I would. If I could scale the side of the cliff and get our clothes back, I would. But I can't."

"I can think of another way to make it up to me," one friend said. "You lost me a change of clothes, so I want your clothes as a change of clothes."

"What?" I asked. "You can't be serious."

"I think we should split his clothes," my other friend said. "You take bottoms, since it was your idea, and I'll take his top?"

"Fair enough," my first friend said. "Hand 'em over."

"I'm not stripping naked on this trail, and just hiking with my dick out." I said.

"We don't need you to get naked," my first friend said, "Strip to your skivvies, keep your socks and boots, and let's get on the trail."

"I really don't want to do that," I said, shaking my head.

"Listen," my second friend said, "Either strip to your undies, or we'll tackle you and take your underwear too."

I looked back and forth between them. Neither of them grinned, or showed me any sign that this was a joke. I really only had the two options: hand over my shirt and shorts willingly or be stripped down to just my hiking boots. I took the first option, pulling my shirt over my head and tossing it to my second friend.

"Promise you won't laugh," I said, as I started to push down on the elastic waistband of my shorts.

I was wearing tighty-whities under my hiking shorts. And my friends smirked at me as I stepped out of my shorts and handed them over.

"You're a little sweaty," my friend said, taking my shorts from me and staring down at my package which was pressing against the near translucent wet white fabric.

"Stop looking," I said, covering myself with my hands. "Let's get hiking."

"You carry the food for a while," my second friend said. "Lead the way."

We got on the trail, me in my hiking boots, semi-translucent tighty-whities, and the heaviest backpack. My friends hiking behind me, cracking jokes about my underwear of choice.

"They're supportive," I shouted back at my friends, already sweating into the backpack, and certain that my underwear was doing little to conceal me."

We hiked for three more days in this state. Me in my underwear, my friends switching between their clothes and the clothes they stole from me. On the fourth day after the tragedy, we stopped by a river, and my first friend declared it was laundry day.

"You've been a good sport about hiking in your underwear," my first friend said. "As a reward for your positive attitude, Give me your socks and underwear, and I'll go wash them."

I should have been suspicious, but I was grateful. I'd carried the food backpack for the past four days, and I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was set up camp and collapse onto my sleeping bag. So, I stripped naked, handing my socks and underwear to my friend. They hadn't seen me naked before, but by this point my underwear had been sweat in so much, there wasn't much they had left to imagine, and I wasn't concerned about them finally just seeing all of me.

I caught a smirk passed between my friends, but didn't question it. Instead, my friend and I set up our shared tent, me completely naked, my hiking boots left by the food backpack, my friend still fully clothed.

When the tent was pitched, I rolled out my sleeping back and fell on to it, face up, not bothering to shield my cock.

"I'm gonna go wash my clothes now," my friend said. "Should I bring your hiking boots in?"

"Yes please," I said, closing my eyes.

He walked away, and then came back and I heard the thump, thump of my hiking boots being dropped on the tent floor nearby.

I must have slept for a couple hours before I woke to the sounds of my friends coming back to camp.

"Bad news buddy!" I heard the sound of my first friend's voice. "And by that I mean, bad news for you."

My stomach plummeted. I couldn't imagine worse news than the sentence bad news, buddy, after giving my only clothes to a friend. I sat up quickly and unzipped the tent, poking my head out, but unwilling to climb out of the tent.

"We're sorry for giving you such a hard time about losing our clothes," my second friend said, an evil grin on his face. "I guess it can happen to all of us."

"What do you mean?" I asked, although I knew.

"I slipped while washing your underwear," my first friend said. "Long story short, those tighty-whities are floating down the river miles from here."

"This had better be a fucking joke," I said.

"Not a joke," my second friend said. "But I did manage to hang onto your socks... Well, one of them anyway."

I stared at them dumbfounded.

"We know you're worried about sunburning that precious little cock of yours," my first friend said. "So, we figured you could slip this sock over it."

"You don't really have any other options," my second friend said. "Since your sock and boots are the only clothes you have within hundreds of miles."

"And you really expect me to just hike in nothing but a sock on my cock?" I asked.

"We don't see what other choices you have," my first friend said.

"You could give me back the shirt and pants you took from me," I said.

"Wish that we could," my second friend said. "But wouldn't you know it, those sailed down the river too."

"You dropped all my clothes down the river?"

"Except a sock," my first friend said. "I think you understand the position you're in."

I didn't speak to them for the rest of the night. My second friend was kind enough to bring me dinner in the tent, but as he zipped the tent back up, he said, "Enjoy hiding that body of yours tonight, because tomorrow you're gonna feel the sun in all kinds of new places."

We had only brought the one tent, so when my friends came to bed, they unrolled their sleeping bags on either side of me.

"Good night, naked man," they said.

In the morning, I tried to stay in my sleeping bag for as long as possible. But my friends wouldn't let me stay hidden forever. Plus, I couldn't deny that we did only have a month's worth of food. Any wasted days would mean starvation.

I gritted my teeth, and climbed out of my sleeping bag, quickly pulling my sock over my dick and sliding on my hiking boots.

When I climbed out of the tent, my friends quickly packed the tent, and hoisted both backpacks onto their own backs.

"You know I could carry one of those," I said, thinking about the coverage a backpack offered.

"You've already done so much carrying," my first friend said.

"And you'd try to cover that ass," my second friend said, slapping the spot of real estate he'd just mentioned.

I yelped.

"How else are you supposed to turn the lesson," my first friend said, reaching out and pulling the sock off my dick and dropping in the dirt.

"Knock it off," I said, bending over and grabbing my sock, to quickly slip it back into place.

"Fine," my first friend said.

And we started the hike. They let me hike behind them this time. My sock swinging back and forth, the sun hitting my back and my ass.

We hiked that way for the whole day, my friends in front, sneaking peaks behind them, while I clomped along behind them, practically naked except for the boots and the single sock.

As evening fell, we climbed to the top of a flat, treeless plateau. Without the regular scrub trees around us the wind picked up and blew hard against our faces and our bodies. I watched the wind blow my friends clothes taught to their bodies, and felt myself growing stiff under the sock.

Only, as I looked down, hoping that my woody wouldn't be noticeable under the sock, I watched a gust of wind slap against my cock-covering sock, and tug the sock clean off my semi-chubbed dick.

I gasped, and stretched for it, clomping forward in my hiking boots, my cock bouncing painfully against my thigh, but I couldn't reach it.

For a second, the wind pressed the sock to my first friends chest, and I hoped he would reach up and grab it, to save me from a humiliating 3-week, butt-naked (except for the boots) hike. But another gust of wind from a different direction caught the sock and hurtled it over the side of a cliff.

I stood naked, hard, and horrified as I watched my sock, my last hope at maintaining any modicum of decency, fly pell-mell over the side of the plateau, to join the rest of my clothes lost to the wild.

#enm #gay #12 days of enm-mas

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clarisse0o · 5 months ago

Text

Camp Wiegman-Part 50

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 6k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Friday, February 12 - At Jenni’s place.

I bite my lip to stifle my smile. The image Lucy presents is funny, but I don't want to make her scowl worse. It’s the first time I’ve seen her so impatient, tapping her best friend’s car hood.

“They’re obviously late,” she grumbles.

“They’ve only been gone ten minutes. They’ll be here soon.”

“It’s not funny,” she growls. “Stop smiling like that.”

My smile fades instantly; I don’t want to annoy her any further. Our vacation isn’t starting as I had imagined. Lucy’s been grumpy since I met up with her. She had a terrible morning, having to supervise a first-year student who was punished and left out in the rain. I hope she’s tougher than me and doesn’t fall sick. She was so chilled at noon that she had to stay under the shower for over fifteen minutes to warm up. We planned to leave right after our classes to have lunch in town with Alexia and Ingrid, but we ended up grabbing a sandwich to eat at the airport because we were short on time. It was a good decision, because even though Mapi’s plane was delayed, she managed to get out before we finished eating. Miraculously, we arrived on time for the meeting we had planned with Lucy’s friends. If we hadn’t, I can’t even imagine how Lucy would have been, seeing her already so wound up now. We were supposed to leave at 2:30 PM, but Jenni supposedly lost her phone in the apartment. Seeing Lucy’s worsening state, Alexia decided to go up and help Jenni search for it. I suggested to Lucy that we step outside to get some air to calm down, but it was a bad idea once our friends waiting in the other cars started teasing us by honking.

“I’m going to kill them.”

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “Calm down.”

I was about to put my hand on her back but held back when I saw her dark eyes. The others are openly mocking us. We decided to take three cars to avoid being crammed together with our luggage. Mapi is sharing a car with Ingrid and Aitana, who’s driving. As for the second car, there’s Mary, Caroline, and Beth. As for us, we’re riding with Jenni and Alexia. Lucy draws my attention with a sigh.

“I need a hug,” she mutters.

I smile as I open my arms to her. She leans into me, resting her head on my shoulder. This time, I gently rub her back.

“Come on, relax. We’re on vacation. We’ve been looking forward to this for so long.”

The week was tough. We were distant from each other most of the time. I didn’t understand the feeling of missing her, but according to Lucy, it’s just because it’s still the early stages of our relationship. We need to find a balance, and she’s probably right. It only made me more eager to finally be on vacation.

“Hmm... You’re right. I’m sorry for being so unpleasant.”

“You’re allowed to have a bad day.”

She nods before giving me a chaste kiss. The moment doesn’t last long as she returns to nuzzle into my neck. We stay like that until our friends return. Jenni is driving, so Lucy gave up the front passenger seat to Alexia and sat in the back with me. She’s the first to get into the car when they return.

“Did you find it?” I ask Ale.

“Yeah, it’s all good. How’s Lucy doing?”

“Not great, but she’ll be fine,” I reassure her.

“I hope so.”

I nod with a small smile to reassure her. I’m not worried about it. The ride will probably calm her down. I join Lucy in the back. The first thing I notice is that she’s moved my backpack that I had placed in the middle and also took off her jacket. Seeing this, I follow suit, figuring she’s right to make herself comfortable given the long drive ahead.

“How many hours do we have left?” I ask, thinking about it.

“A little less than 6 hours, I think.” Lucy says

“Could be worse,” Jenni replies as she settles in.

She also takes off her jacket. Something tells me they’ve traveled together a lot before, and I’m not sure how to feel about that. The GPS she activates pulls me out of my thoughts as it starts speaking. We’ll be the ones leading the way thanks to it. I realize I didn’t bring my headphone, but I quickly forget this detail when I hear the music playing. Jenni left the radio on with current hits. It’ll fill the silence since Lucy doesn’t seem to want to talk.

“Can I lie down?”

I’m surprised to hear her speak. She’s pointing at my lap, and I quickly understand her intention. I’m not sure how she plans to do it, but I nod in affirmation.

“Of course,” I confirm. “Come here.”

She unbuckles the shoulder strap of her seatbelt, leaving only the lower part fastened, then takes off her shoes and leans heavily against me. We shift to find our positions, and once we do, I hold her close, intertwining our hands. My free hand gently rubs her stomach in slow circles, which seems to soothe her judging by the long sigh she lets out. This week was pretty disastrous. If we didn’t share a room, we would have barely seen each other since she was so busy. The fact that she doesn’t want any affection during the day doesn’t help either. Plus, I had to meet with Wiegman. She wanted to make sure my night troubles were improving, and she confirmed that I’d be returning to my room after the holidays. I need to make the most of Lucy during this vacation. Looking up, I catch Ale’s reflection in the sun visor. She smiles at us, making me blush. This is the first time she’ll see us interact so closely, especially as a couple. I turn away and grab my scarf to use as a pillow against the window. Lucy, already dozing off in my arms, grumbles at my fidgeting. I apologize and stop moving. My head trembles slightly against the window, but not enough to be bothersome. I finally exhale softly, closing my eyes with a small smile on my lips as the car finally starts moving.

Friday, February 12 - Hotel.

I jump slightly when a hand touches my cheek. I look around, almost bumping into Lucy, who had finally slumped over me. The car is empty except for the two of us. She gives me a reassuring smile.

“We’re here.”

“Already?”

“Yeah,” she giggles. “It’s not a myth. You really sleep like a log. I didn’t dare wake you.”

I blush at her remark. I realize I had fallen asleep again for the entire trip. I imagine she didn’t.

“I don’t want to get up,” she tells me. “You’re really comfortable.”

“It’s not surprising with all this fat,” I joke.

Lucy gently smacks my thigh with a stern look, making me yelp in surprise.

“Don’t ever say that. It’s not true.”

She grimaces as she sits up. The position must have given her cramps. She swears as she stretches and unbuckles her seatbelt. I do the same, putting on my jacket and scarf.

“Bundle up well. It’s cold outside.”

I nod, agreeing with her. From what I can see, there’s a thick layer of snow outside. As soon as the door opens, a frigid gust invades the car. To think that in Manchester, everything was starting to melt. Here we are back in the snow. I smile at Mapi, who comes to greet me as soon as I step out.

“Did you sleep through the whole trip again, sleepyhead?” she teases.

“No using that nickname, it’s mine,” grumbles Lucy as she steps out of the car too.

I stifle a laugh when I see Mapi roll her eyes nonchalantly. From the latest updates I’ve gotten, the two have been getting along better thanks to Mapi’s support for my girlfriend. This only makes me happy. I was really worried about the opposite. Luckily, Mapi doesn’t push her on the subject. I would have sided with Lucy. She doesn’t give me many nicknames, so I plan to let her have exclusivity if that’s what she wants. For the past few weeks, she’s been calling me "princess" or even "baby" or "sleepyhead." These nicknames make my heart flutter. They really make me feel like we're together. It's not easy to realize that since we maintain a teacher/student relationship at school.

"Can you help me, baby?" Lucy calls as she takes out our suitcases.

"Yep," I reply, confirming. "See you later," I say to Mapi before leaving.

I help her with the last of our things before joining our friends, who are chatting at the entrance, waiting for us. We all go inside the lobby together to escape the cold, and I must say, we make quite a group, especially with the other girls. The place looked large from the outside, and now that I'm seeing the reception area, I find it stunning. It's a mix of modern decor and a chalet style, thanks to the wooden accents. I stay aside with Alexia and Mapi while Lucy goes up to the reception with a few friends. We have five rooms in total—one for each couple, and the last two will be shared by the four single girls.

"I think the receptionist has a little crush on you," Mapi teases.

I stop my observations, realizing she's talking to me.

"Huh? No way."

"No, I think she's right. He keeps glancing at you," Ale giggles.

I roll my eyes at their teasing. He’s going to be disappointed when he sees me in Lucy's arms later. I don't really plan on hiding my relationship with her during this trip. All our friends know about us, so there's no reason to. My curiosity gets the better of me, and I feel compelled to take a quick glance at him to see what he looks like. He was indeed looking at me, but when our eyes met, he quickly looked away. He seems to be around our age, if not closer to Lucy's age. I turn back to the girls, who are talking about how great this week is going to be. They say it’s going to be awesome, and I quickly agree before Mapi nudges me.

"What?" I groan.

"You're the one she's calling 'sweetheart.'"

"What are you talking about?"

I frown, following her nod toward Lucy. She’s waiting for me a little farther away, shaking our room key.

"Oh," I say, blushing. "See you later, then."

"Yeah, sure," my best friend mocks.

I grab my suitcase and roll it over to Lucy. She tilts her head and holds out her hand when I reach her. I take it without thinking.

"Did you call me 'sweetheart'?" I ask, feeling shy.

"Hmm," she smiles. "Do I not have the right?"

"Yes, yes," I say, blushing again. "It’s just new."

"True," she laughs. "I can stop giving you nicknames if you prefer."

"Oh no, no. I like it. It was just... unexpected."

"Alright," she laughs. "I'll make sure to continue if you like it. Come on, let’s go up."

"And the others?"

"We're meeting at the restaurant at 6:30."

"Oh, okay."

I glance back at the others for a moment before following Lucy to the elevators. She calls one with a button.

"Do you know if our rooms are next to each other?"

"I don’t think so, but they’re on the same floor."

"And where are we?"

"Room 322, on the third floor."

"Cool."

We step into the elevator, letting go of each other's hands as we turn around. I catch a glimpse of the lobby, where I notice the young receptionist watching us with a new look of embarrassment when I catch him.

"The girls think the receptionist has a crush on me," I share with amusement.

"Oh really?" she smiles. "Too bad for him that you're already taken."

I smile as she pulls me close and kisses me just as the doors close. Oh yes, I’m already taken by the most wonderful person. The doors open to our floor. We easily find our room, which Lucy unlocks. She had shown me photos on the computer, but the reality is much better. It's beautiful. Like the lobby, the room has a chalet style. Everything is made of oak wood, with anthracite gray walls that contrast with the light wood beams. It’s not very big, which makes the space feel cozy. I’m thrilled to share it with Lucy for a whole week. A huge bed, which looks super comfortable, takes up the middle of the room. Opposite it, there’s a TV mounted on the wall that I can’t resist touching.

"Don’t touch everything," Lucy scolds.

"But look, it moves."

I tilt it from right to left to show my discovery, making Lucy laugh.

"I know, baby," she says, taking off her jacket and placing it on top of her suitcase.

Ignoring her, I continue exploring the room. We have a sitting area with a sofa and an armchair, and there’s even a small terrace. When I turn around, I quickly join Lucy, who is in the bathroom. It’s slightly bigger than the one Lucy has at Camp Wiegman. There are double sinks, a shower, and even a large bathtub. I can already see myself relaxing in there. Lucy’s arms wrap around me from behind. I smile as she unzips my jacket. I lean into her to make it easier.

"A whole week just for us," she murmurs.

"Yeah."

I’m living in pure bliss. I step away slightly so she can slide my jacket off my shoulders. I take off my scarf myself and take my jacket to place it with my suitcase, which I had left by the door.

"Shall we unpack?"

"If you want, but there’s only one wardrobe."

"Is that a problem?"

I bite my lip, shaking my head. Oh no, not a problem at all. It’s more like a dream come true.

"No... We can share it."

"Good," she smiles. "It’s strange, isn’t it?"

"Yeah, totally," I giggle.

It’s unconventional, just like our relationship. We’re going to experience a lot of firsts here. The first thing is unpacking our things in this wardrobe. When we’re done, we still have a little time before heading down. So I flop onto our bed, spreading out like a starfish.

"Your shoes, sweetheart."

A smile spreads across my face, now that I’ve heard it. The situation doesn’t seem to amuse Lucy as much, judging by the look she’s giving me. I feel like a little kid sometimes.

"What’s making you smile like that?"

"The nickname. My God, the effect it has on me."

She raises an eyebrow with a small amused smile as I laugh.

"That doesn’t change the fact that you need to take off your shoes."

"Say it again, and I’ll take them off."

"That’s called blackmail."

"It’s not much. It’s either that, or you take off my shoes yourself."

"Fine, but it’ll cost you."

I hold out my foot with a silly grin. She takes off one shoe, then the other, letting them drop to the floor. Hers quickly join mine before she unexpectedly lies on top of me. I groan because she wasn’t delicate at all. Luckily, my bruises don’t hurt as much anymore, or I might have screamed in pain. She giggles as she kisses my nose.

"Sorry for being grumpy earlier."

"Don’t apologize. You have the right to be. You didn’t have the best morning," I say as I gently stroke her hair.

"You’re right, but still," she mumbles before sighing contentedly against my neck. "You didn’t need to put up with it."

She kisses my jaw softly before moving down to my neck. If she plans to apologize like this every time, I’m going to tell her she can be grumpy more often. In just a few weeks, she’s already discovered that this is one of my weak spots, at least from what she’s explored. She’s gotten into the habit of inflicting this sweet torture on me whenever she gets the chance in her room. I let out a surprised gasp when I feel her teeth nibbling at my skin before she sucks it between her lips.

"What are you doing?" I panic.

"Something I’ve never done but always wanted to try..."

"You’re not serious!"

I laugh as she continues. I don’t even try to push her away. Her hair tickles the tip of my nose. I let her finish as she soothes the small bite with her tongue. She kisses it before propping herself up on her elbows to admire her work with a proud smile.

"So, are you happy now?" I chuckle.

"Not bad for a first time," she laughs. "At least the receptionist will know you’re taken."

"I think he already figured that out, you know. Is this really the first time you’ve done that?"

"Yeah," she smiles.

"And you should know this is the first time I’ve ever gotten a hickey too."

"Really?" she raises an eyebrow. "I thought Mapi would’ve done that already."

"She did... But not in visible places, you see..."

"I’d rather not know. »

I bite my lip, understanding perfectly. Maybe this isn't the best topic for us to talk about together. She captures my lips one last time before standing up.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to get ready. We need to head down soon," she informs me as she heads into the bathroom.

"Oh..." I sigh. "Maybe we should've taken a vacation just for the two of us after all."

I hear her laugh from the other room, which makes me smile.

"You say that, but you'll be the first one who doesn't want to leave at the end of this week."

"You're probably right."

"I am right," she asserts. "You love spending time with your friends just as much as with me."

"It's frustrating how well you know me."

I hear her laugh again. I decide to join her, leaning against the door frame. She's just closing her makeup bag. She’s put on some lipstick and probably a touch of mascara. I blush, thinking she looks stunning.

"What are you thinking about?" she asks with a teasing smile.

"Nothing... Just that you're very beautiful."

"Thank you. You're not too bad yourself," she compliments me, smiling even more.

I clear my throat as I straighten up. I'm not used to openly expressing what I think, and even less so to accepting compliments. Lucy seems to understand this because she changes the subject.

"Should I leave you the bathroom?"

"Please."

We switch places, and she takes the opportunity to plant a kiss on my lips. She stays by the doorframe while I touch up my makeup. Suddenly, she seems deep in thought.

"What's on your mind?" I ask.

She takes a soft breath and shrugs.

"I feel a bit guilty. I compared you a lot to Kiera at the beginning."

I stop what I’m doing. It's the first time she's mentioned Kiera since the night we got together. I never pushed her because she never did it with me, but I wanted her to bring it up at least once. It’s important that we talk about it. I just didn't expect her to do it now.

"Why feel guilty? I don’t blame you. We’re somewhat alike. We were both junkies," I joke.

She shakes her head and sighs. It seems my joke didn't have the intended effect. I move closer to her and place my hand on her cheek. She lifts her head with a sad expression on her face. I begin to wonder just how much she thought we were alike. Seeing her like this tugs at my heart. The emotions she's experiencing are pure sadness. I don’t know how to react. Normally, she’s the one who reassures me.

"Exactly. I was scared when you’d go home. Kiera never wanted to stop, even after she tried to quit. She kept going back, again and again, and I was so terrified it would be the same with you."

I have tears in my eyes as she begins to cry in front of me. I've never seen her like this. She usually controls her emotions so well. Her broken voice shows me just how deeply all of this affected her. Panicking, I desperately kiss her. My gesture seems to be well received by the way she returns the kiss. I end up pressed against the furniture, and our exchange is rough. I wrap my arms around her neck to pull her closer.

"I'm so sorry," she says between sobs.

"Hey, shh," I say, wiping her tears with my thumbs. "It’s okay, alright? Please stop, or I'll start crying with you."

She chuckles, resting her forehead against mine. I realize she just needed to let it all out.

"I'm not Kiera. It’s not your fault that she didn’t want to be saved. I promise you, drugs and I are definitely over. You’re the only thing I could ever want—"

I stop, realizing what I’ve just said. Did I really just say that? Lucy laughs, making me aware of the weight of my words.

"I-I... That’s not what I meant," I stammer, blushing.

"Yes, it is what you meant," she teases.

"It’s embarrassing," I say, looking everywhere but at her, which makes her laugh.

"Baby, I’d be worried if you didn’t want me or if you were thinking about someone else... That’s not the case, right?"

"No," I chuckle. "You’re the only one."

"Hmm..." she says with a playful tone. "You’d better be."

I gasp when she tugs on my earlobe. Unintentionally, I rise onto my tiptoes. She takes advantage of it to press me harder against the furniture. She moves down to my neck, continuing her sweet torture. Damn, she’s good at this. I realize our situation when a moan escapes me.

"I— Luce... Please."

My desperate plea makes her stop immediately.

"Are you okay?"

"I... Yeah... I-I just need to finish up so we don’t end up late."

She smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Sorry, I got carried away."

"Oh no, don’t worry."

"No, I’m sorry. I promised to take it slow, and I intend to keep that promise."

I sigh, nodding. She noticed my struggle, and I feel a bit guilty.

"If it’s something you want—"

"No," she shakes her head. "We don’t need to rush things. You went through a tough time, so we’ll take it slow. Anyway, we’ve only been together for two weeks. We need to get to know each other."

"You’re right."

"As always," she smiles.

She kisses me before pulling away suddenly, leaving a void I never thought I’d feel.

"Hurry up and finish. The quicker we’re downstairs, the sooner we can get back to our bed."

I smile, watching her leave. I guess that means our conversation is over. I quickly finish getting ready before joining her in the bedroom to put my shoes back on.

"Can I borrow a sweater? I’m starting to get cold."

"You didn’t bring one?"

"I’d like one of yours if you don’t mind," I say, biting my lip.

"Of course not. Help yourself," she says, nodding toward the wardrobe.

I quickly find a plain black wool cardigan that matches my sweater. Once I’m ready, we finally leave our room hand in hand. Lucy keeps the keys, and I fully intend to let her take care of that for the entire trip. I’d probably lose them. We arrive in the lobby. Lucy guides me toward the hotel restaurant with her hand on my waist. It’s the first time we can act as a couple in a week, and I plan to savor these moments.

"Have you been here before?" I ask her curiously.

"We came here last year. We liked it so much that we decided to come back."

"Did you bring someone...?"

"I was in a relationship, but no."

I don’t hide my pleasure. I’m the first person she’s brought here. I feel special. A waiter greets us upon our arrival. Lucy asks for the table that Jenni reserved for us. Once he finds it, he leads us there. Only Jenni and Alexia are already seated.

"I thought you’d be the first ones here," Jenni says. "You’re slipping, Luce," she teases.

"I have a girlfriend who’s not very punctual," she laughs.

"Hey! It wasn’t my fault this time! Besides, we’re on time, and it’s been a long time since I was last late."

"Thanks to whom?" she brags.

"I’m not going to respond to that provocation."

She chuckles as I slide onto the bench next to Alexia. Lucy takes the last available spot on the bench.

"Did you two get settled in well?" Jenni asks.

"It seems they did..." Ale hints with a smug smile.

I don't immediately understand where she's going with this until I see her staring at my neck. I blush and pull up the collar of my cardigan to hide Lucy's hickey. I regret not thinking to bring a scarf. Her smile widens, but she doesn’t say anything that might make us uncomfortable. We start chatting while waiting for the others. Lucy has decided to stick close to me tonight. Her hand rests on my thigh. I take advantage of this position by leaning into her as she talks mostly to Jenni. It’s clear they share a deep bond by the way they interact. Her friends gradually join us, bringing with them a lively atmosphere. Of course, the last ones to arrive are Mapi and Ingrid, who sit across from us.

“Now you know why I’m always late,” I say to Lucy. “Mapi’s the one who made me like this.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey, Lucy, instead of criticizing me, can we talk about how you went wild on my best friend? You're lucky she let you. I didn’t get that kind of treatment.”

I kick Mapi under the table, and she doesn’t hide her pain. I can’t believe she’s talking so openly about our relationship in front of our two girlfriends.

“Did you two date?” Aitana asks.

“Yeah, we were together, and I’m kind of annoyed to know that some people get more privileges than others!”

This time, she gets a smack on the back of the head from Ingrid.

“You're playing with fire, Girl. You’d better drop this conversation if you don’t want to sleep on the floor tonight.”

I bite my lip to suppress a smile when I see Mapi’s dismayed expression. This relationship must be quite different for her compared to her previous ones. Contrary to what I might have thought, Ingrid isn’t someone who can be easily pushed around. It’s surprising because I’ve always known Mapi as the dominant one in her relationships. That was the case with me, as she initiated everything, and I got the impression it was the same with Ana.

“Sorry, honey.”

“Hmm... Sure.”

“Hey, relax, guys,” Ale interjects. “Aren’t we here to have a good time?”

The girls across from us remain slightly tense until a waiter arrives to take our order. It’s the receptionist from this morning. He smiles at me timidly, but I don’t pay much attention.

“What are the specials again?” Ingrid asks.

“Uh, well…”

He flips through his little notebook. I deduce he’s a trainee from the way he’s handling things. He lists all the specials he’s noted down. Some of them sound pretty good.

“The first one was white wine, right?” Mapi asks.

“Yes, that’s correct,” he replies. “It’s slightly sweet, if that’s what you like.”

“Oh! That’s for us, Ona!” she exclaims, looking at me.

“Umm... Yeah.”

“That’ll be two glasses of white wine for the two of us,” Ingrid starts, pointing to Mapi and herself.

Everyone else makes their choices. The girls all opt for beers. Alexia orders the same as the girls, and then it’s our turn. I’m also tempted by the wine, but I’m not sure Lucy would appreciate me drinking alcohol.

“Scratch the glasses and bring us a bottle of white wine with five glasses,” Lucy beats me to it.

I glance at her from the corner of my eye. She smiles at me, gently stroking my hair.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Would you prefer something else?”

“Oh no, no… I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

“As Alexia said, we’re here to enjoy ourselves, right?”

“You’re right... Thank you.”

She smiles before kissing me. It’s the first time she’s kissed me in front of her friends, so it throws me off a bit. When we pull apart, the waiter has disappeared, and the others have resumed their conversation. We join in until the waiter returns with our drinks. I’m so caught up in my conversation with Ale and Mapi that I don’t notice him. But then a cold liquid splashes onto my thighs, making me jump.

“Sh-shit, shit, shit!” the waiter mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry! It was an accident!”

“Damn it…” I sigh, standing up.

Drops are dripping onto the floor; I’m that soaked. He spilled the entire bottle on me. I’m going to smell like wine all evening because of him. Luckily, I’m not wearing anything white. Another waiter who saw the scene quickly comes over to scold the trainee, who starts to panic.

“I’m sorry, I’ll help you,” he says, stepping forward.

“I’ll take care of it,” Lucy intervenes, gently pushing him away.

I give him a sympathetic smile to reassure the trainee a little after my girlfriend’s attitude. On the other hand, I’m relieved that Lucy stepped in. It’s not like I would have been comfortable with strangers touching me. He takes a few steps back with a crestfallen look while Lucy wipes my pants with napkins.

“Please excuse him, miss. He’s new, still in training. He’ll be severely punished, I assure you.”

“It was an accident; it happens,” I say to lighten the mood.

I lower my eyes to Lucy, who sighs. Our eyes lock immediately. For a moment, I fear that grumpy Lucy is back. I run my hand through her hair at the nape of her neck to relax her. Her muscles do indeed loosen under my hand.

“You need to change. Otherwise, you’ll reek of alcohol all night.”

“Okay, I’ll go up.”

“Can we at least get the cost of a dry cleaning for her clothes?” she asks the waiter.

“Of course, and we’ll bring you a new bottle and offer a second one as compensation.”

“Good. So I suppose this young man won’t need to be fired if that’s what you were planning.”

The waiter simply nods in response to Lucy’s request. I don’t know much about the restaurant or hotel industry, but when something like this happens in movies, it’s usually the punishment that’s expected for the person. So I’m glad my girlfriend took the initiative and saved him from that. I wouldn’t have wished it on him.

“Alright,” she sighs. “Let’s go up.”

I take her hand that she offers and let her lead us out of the restaurant before she changes her mind. We head back to our room. I didn’t expect her to accompany me, but it’s nice of her. The first thing I do when the door shuts is kiss her. She growls, gently pushing me away.

“Take off your clothes before you jump on me.”

“I won’t comment on that innuendo.”

“It’s not my fault you have a dirty mind,” she challenges with a raised eyebrow.

“Sure,” I giggle, unbuttoning my jeans.

I sit down to remove them along with my shoes. I also take off Lucy’s cardigan, which got splashed.

“Can I jump on you now?”

She laughs, leaning in to kiss me again.

“You’re a hopeless case, Miss Batlle.”

“And you’re one to talk? I saw the way you looked at the waiter as we were leaving.”

“He deserved it,” she defends herself. “It’s the least after what he did to you.”

“He’s probably traumatized, poor guy.”

“Whatever. I saved his job, didn’t I? Now, hurry up and change so we can go back down.”

“Hmm... You know you don’t have to worry about him, right?” I ask as I head to our closet.

“Of course. Stop thinking I’m jealous of everyone,” she rolls her eyes, making me giggle.

I put on a new pair of jeans and end up changing into a warmer sweater to replace Lucy’s cardigan. When I’m done, I turn to see Lucy waiting for me on the bed, head tilted. She’s irresistible the way she looks at me. I’m really glad that almost all the scars Korbin gave me have disappeared. I can finally feel at least a little bit pretty for her. I join her to put on my shoes.

“Sorry about your cardigan.”

“There’s no need to apologize. We’ll just send everything to the dry cleaners.”

“Yeah. I didn’t know you were such a good negotiator.”

“Now you know,” she smiles. “Let’s head back down.”

I steal a kiss from her before we return to the restaurant. Everything has been cleaned up, and the bottles have been brought out for the girls’ enjoyment. The evening continues as usual until a discreet throat-clearing interrupts us. We all turn towards the receptionist, who looks like he’s in a state of panic.

“I-I wanted to apologize,” he starts, staring at his feet. “Th-that accident shouldn’t have happened… I didn’t mean to offend you or do my job poorly. I was clumsy a-and…”

The poor guy is scared to death. I imagine it’s his boss who sent him over.

“I-I also wanted to thank you for saving my job…”

“There’s no problem,” I reassure him warmly. “It’s already ancient history.”

“We’ll have the clothes returned to you tomorrow morning,” Lucy tells him.

“No, don’t worry about it. The housekeeper will take care of it when she cleans your room tomorrow morning. They’ve already been informed.”

He seems to relax since Lucy spoke. A friendly exchange takes place between them. He then leaves with a small smile on his face. That conversation must have reassured him. Our first evening resumes when a new waiter comes over to take our orders. I get the feeling we’ve become some sort of VIPs.

We were quickly served, and they offered us the aperitif. Conversations resumed about the activities we could do during our stay. I can tell we're going to have an amazing time with everything there is to do here. I plan to make the most of it, especially since this is our first vacation together with Lucy.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #mapi leon #mapi leon x ingrid engen #alexia putellas x jenni hermoso

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