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abigailmoment · 6 months

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It wasn't just bad luck that Staeve was targeted. It was a calculated attack. Halsin knew well enough how a caster could examine their enemies for tells. Halsin did it himself. Considered an opponent's tactics, and guessed at the places their mind would be most vulnerable.

You didn't have to be a gifted empath to watch how Staeve hurled himself into the thick of combat, right at the biggest bandit wielding the two-handed great sword, and think that the man might be vulnerable to a spell that exploited wisdom.

The fact that it took down Astarion too, well, perhaps that one was just bad luck.

It happened like this:

This is written about @velnna's Tav, Staeve. I was delighted to discover that they don't mind fan fiction being written about him.

I'm always cautious about writing for other people's OCs--getting voices right is so important to me. I have elegantly avoided that issue here.

Full text below.

Full Text On AO3

The fight was an incidental bit of banditry. Dangerous banditry, certainly. Bandits with great swords, supported by wizards. Halsin hung back with Gale while the two rogues dashed forward to give truth to the old adage that the best defense was killing the other fellow extremely quickly.

They cut down the man with the great sword and the woman with the mace and shield. Reinforcements were coming from around a rocky overhang. Halsin coaxed the earth to throw up entangling vines to slow them down. Gale drenched them with glimmering light that illuminated all their vulnerable points for Astarion and Staeve to shoot at.

Only the half-orc made it through the vines and the light. He was bloodied and wrathful. He was huge, but it was two against one, and the two were flanking with each other. It would have been an easy end to the combat, except that apparently there was a bandit wizard hidden somewhere in the trees who chose this moment to cast a spell.

One second Staeve was a blood spattered half-drow sprinting full-tilt, sword out, towards a fighter twice his size. And then he was gone.

Some sort of teleportation? Banishment? Gale was saying something about trajectory and scanning the treeline. Halsin was yelling, he wasn't sure what, the concern was more important than the words. He started running forward. Because two rogues against a barbarian was fine, but one rogue against a barbarian was an extremely fast way for that rogue to die.

And Astarion knew that so he should be running away. But he wasn't running away. He was darting forward and ducking low and almost getting hit by a greataxe as he snatched something off of the ground.

Then he was running, thank the Gods. There was something cradled in his arms, which meant he didn't have his rapier out as he scrambled back.

It was a cat. Halsin saw. They were ten feet away from each other when Halsin realized that Astarion was carrying a large, extremely upset tabby cat with grey-green fur.

That was when Astarion vanished. No. Not vanished. As the tabby tumbled to the ground, something small and white was already there, darting for cover.

Then the half-orc arrived. Bellowing and huge, at least when compared to cats. Not quite as huge when compared to Halsin.

Halsin decided to turn into a bear. It was amazing how many problems you could solve by turning into a bear.

"I am feeling my oversight in not preparing dispel magic today," said Gale. "Or counterspell."

"This is not a situation we could have anticipated," Halsin said.

Staeve contributed to the conversation, but because of present circumstances, it came out as a meow.

He was large for a cat. His fur was pale brown, tabby-striped with green. His stripes crisscrossed in a way that reminded Halsin of his tattoos. His scar was a fur-less groove in his face. He had the same pale green eyes as always. That color was quite appropriate in a cat.

He meowed again, more insistently this time.

"We will," Halsin assured him.

"You're speaking with him?" Gale asked.

"Not magically," Halsin said. It had been a long day and he had barely anything left to cast with. "But I think I understand him."

"Do you?"

"Think a moment and I am confident that you too will guess what he wants from us."

It did only take a moment. Gale was an intelligent man, when prompted. And they'd all seen the small white cat vanish into the woods during the bear-orc fight.

"Ah. Of course." Gale addressed the cat, voice reassuring. "Astarion should be relatively safe though. Polymorph is temporary and even if something did happen to him in the interim, he would just revert to his natural form."

Staeve's whiskers went back and his ears went flat in a thoroughly unimpressed way.

"I think it would be best to find him and make sure nothing happens," Halsin said with mellow diplomacy.

"Of course." Gale paused, then said delicately: "Given my skill in woodland matters, or lack thereof, I may best serve this cause by getting out of the way."

Halsin smiled. "It is a wise man who knows his limitations."

"I'll meet you all back at camp then?" said Gale.

"Take a potion of invisibility for the trip," Halsin suggested. "There might still be bandits about."

Staeve had gotten impatient with them, and was padding off into the forest. Halsin handed Gale the potion and hastened to follow.

Staeve scampered about the forest like he was looting the place. No hole, hollow log, wasp nest, or brown recluse spider-web was left uninvestigated. The loss of seventy five percent of his gray matter had done the man's already flagging survival instincts no favors. Halsin spent half of his attention looking for signs of a small white cat, and half of his time making sure Staeve's efforts at tracking didn't get him killed.

After being only a hairsbreadth quick enough to pull Staeve away from the entrance to a dire-badger-burrow Halsin decided that his partner was now going to be carried. Staeve made a meowling, writhing objection. He was terribly invested in the search. A compromise was reached when he was offered a perch high on Halsin's broad shoulders. Staeve proceeded to clamber from shoulder to shoulder as Halsin walked, ears always forward and alert, eyes bright, head turning this way and that as he scanned the woods.

Small cats with stealth training were not easy things to track through dense forest. Halsin did end up using his last spell slot to cast speak with animals. The local mice and voles always noticed when predators passed, even small ones. Halsin spoke to them while keeping one hand on Staeve, who watched the tiny creatures with bright, newly interested eyes.

Halsin of course spoke with Staeve as well, but it wasn't quite the same. Talking to a person who had been transformed into an animal was not the same as talking to that person. Shape changed you. How you saw things. How you thought. The mind of a cat was a fraction of the size of that of an elf or half-elf. Thinking with it was different. The change was easiest for druids. It was hardest for the cursed, who did not choose the new shape. Who were surprised by it.

He spoke to Staeve and learned things he had already known from observation. He reassured Staeve that the mice had given useful guidance.

That guidance led them north, then west, and then to a long hollow log, moss covered and broken in two places. A good hiding spot, and the sort of shelter that had a lot of escape routes. Staeve jumped off of Halsin's shoulder as the druid knelt down and they both peered inside.

In the darkness, Halsin could just make out a pair of ruby-bright eyes staring warily back at him.

Beside him, Halsin watched Staeve relax for the first time since becoming a cat. He wasn't actually as large as Halsin had first thought--it was just that his hackles had been up and his tail puffed out for the duration of the transformation.

It could be a painful thing indeed, to have one's heart so completely entwined with another's safety. A deeply worthwhile thing, but a painful thing, sometimes.

Halsin made a deferring motion to Staeve, who nodded in a rather un-catlike like way. Halsin stepped back from the log, moving slowly so as not to startle anything. He shifted a few feet away and sat close enough to watch, but far away enough that his looming size wasn't an ominous thing.

Staeve didn't go inside the hollow log. He sat at the entrance. Lay down at the entrance, body long and casual, head up on the lip of the log so he could keep looking inside. Modeling relaxation.

He started to purr. Halsin could hear him purring even from a few feet away. A loud, constant, soothing rumble. It somehow did not surprise Halsin that Staeve had a loud purr.

And then Staeve waited. Patient as anything. Waiting and watching and purring in a low buzz, as steadily as a beehive.

Halsin could not see inside the log, but he could guess at when Astarion moved because Staeve's ears would flick. Staeve had a fine poker face, but everyone had tells.

Something happened, or occurred to him, that made Staeve raise his head and sit up slightly from his sprawl on the ground. Then he stood up entirely. He gave Halsin a significant look, and trotted off into the underbrush.

Conscious that he had just been assigned new responsibility, Halsin shifted so that he had a good view of the log's entrances and everything around it. There wasn't much danger, Halsin’s presence in general kept most predators away from this space. But still.

During his vigil, Halsin saw the glimmer of red cat-eyes once. And only briefly.

Staeve came back soon. He had a dead vole in his mouth and he looked exceptionally pleased with himself. He dropped the vole at the mouth of the log, took a few pawpads back and watched expectantly.

It took another long minute, but after that minute a small white cat crept out of the darkness.

This should surprise no one, but Astarion was a beautiful cat. Slender and graceful with large eyes. His fur was pure, silvery white and just long enough to curl slightly. He moved with a cautious precision that Halsin recognized as his habit, and that deeply suited his new form.

He sniffed at the vole. He shot Staeve a judgmental look, because Gods forbid the man accept any kindness without prevaricating about it in some way. He glanced at Halsin. And then he leaned down to slide exceptionally long canines into the corpse's chest.

Staeve flopped down about a foot away and watched him with an expression of pleased devotion that would honestly be a bit more appropriate on a dog.

Astarion ate fastidiously, and without getting even a blot of blood on his snow-white fur. When he finished he licked his teeth.

When Staeve was quite sure Astarion was done eating, he sidled up slantwise, sauntering around the vole corpse as if he just casually happened to be taking a stroll in this part of the forest for no particular reason. He stopped just short of Astarion. His ears were forward. His tail flicked lightly from side to side.

Astarion regarded him levelly with his 'I know what you're doing and I know you think you're being clever about it but you're not' expression. Then, as if granting a boon, he deigned to rub his forehead gently against the underside of Staeve's chin.

Staeve took this as the invitation that it was and pressed back, much more enthusiastic and honest in his delight at the contact. Which in turn gave Astarion an excuse and space to do what he wanted and enjoy it.

They were always very dear to watch together. Whatever form they took. In about a minute they were curled over each other on the ground and Staeve was industriously grooming Astarion's head.

Halsin let this go on for as long as he could. But the shadows were lengthening, and they were very close to the Shadowlands, and he was out of spell slots, and the rogues were currently housecats.

"It is getting late, dear ones," he said softly.

Astarion twitched at the interruption, and Staeve licked him three times along the neck and chest in a soothing way. Then they disentangled from each other and padded over to Halsin.

Halsin picked up Staeve, but he knelt down and laid his arm on the ground so that Astarion could climb up and find what perch he wanted by himself. They did both end up in his arms. Staeve was tired and quite ready to be carried, and Astarion didn't want to be out of contact with him.

As Halsin walked through the woods with an armfull of cat, Staeve started to purr again. It was really the most marvelous sound. A soothing distillation of satisfaction and care. Almost enough to tempt one away from being a bear.

Astarion did not purr. Some cats didn't. Or purred only very rarely. But Astarion did, at one point, look up at Halsin and blink his bright red eyes very slowly.

And that was a precious thing.

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Other stories like this.

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#staeve #astarion #bg3 #Transformation #Fluff #Hurt/Comfort #Cuddling #A Great Deal Of Cuddling #Implied Trauma #Very Brief Peril #taking care of astarion as a group project

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month

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Assisting Acquaintance Acquired.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #wen ning #wei wuxian #Ignore how Wen Ning's hair looks here because I messed it up. Let's pretend he just sported a different hair style for a brief moment.#I am not exactly great at consistency but I am trying very hard to work on that (immediately messes up again).#Absolutely *love* how Wen Ning clearly remembers and admires WWX...who does *not* recognize him.#This is the best day for Wen Ning and it means *nothing* to WWX. A painful one-sided crush made worse.#It is bittersweet to realize that we care about someone more than they care about us. Sometime we pour love into a relationship-#-with someone who just can't reciprocate. It isn't always a conscious things either. Some people just aren't aware we care.#And painfully - so painfully - You can't make them aware. No act of kindness or gift or self sacrifice will make someone care about you.#You can martyr yourself for someone and they will continue on unchanged.#I think a lot about the parallels between WN and LWJ. Not foils - just reflections. A theme repeated.#People who give so much of themselves to someone who doesn't have the capacity to give any part of themself away.#I will die on the hill of 'Wen Ning would be the love triangle romance if that trope wasn't being avoided'.#And to be honest - thank the stars above that is the case. I do not know any good love triangles in media.#We are skipping some of the sad Jiang Cheng content because I really want to finish season 2 before May.#Sorry JC emo moment lovers...I'll deliver another time.

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northstarscowboyhat · 2 months

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A daughter's grief.

[AU where Kanako was the sole survivor of the Ketsukane family instead of Ceroba.]

#undertale yellow #uty #kanako #kanako uty #ceroba #ceroba uty #chujin #chujin uty #the cowboy hat draws #Sorry for the brief dip into very angsty territory but I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

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too-deviant · 2 months

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jackie and wilson.

previous | next masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

summary: you haven't been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile

word count: 5.3k

content: fluffff, loser!reader, happy!luke if you squint and a sprinkle of loser!luke, brief mentions of suicide but nothing heavy, we finally find out which state reader is from

notes: this is so cute i love them.

PART III — she’s gonna save me, call me ‘baby’, run her hands through my hair

Wading through a misty green lake with Luke Castellan was not on your camp bucket list — something you’d produced with a young girl called Silena who you’d met in the arts and crafts cabin — but alas, here you were; knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in whatever sludge lived at the bottom, hands searching blindly along the floor while you tried your best to keep your chin dry.

You probably wouldn’t have been there if you were any good at Volleyball — which really doesn’t make much sense with the given context.

Okay, here’s what happened. It was Saturday at camp halfblood — and while you had been there for a solid three days now, you were yet to experience the joy of the weekends. Not that you knew they were any different, not until Travis Stoll approached you after breakfast.

“Heyyyy, uh...newbie.” He chuckled, sidling up beside you while you were occupied with deciding whether your camp shirt was better tucked into your shorts or left hanging over them.

You turned to the boy with an amused smile, reminding him of your name. He snapped his fingers at you, “I knew that. I did. I just prefer newbie.”

“What’s up, Travis?”

He dropped his finger guns, rocking back and forth on his feet and looking at you sheepishly, “Well, me and a few friends were gonna chuck a ball around on the beach and we need an extra player to make it even. Now that Luke’s not an option.”

He muttered that last bit low and under his breath, not in hopes that you wouldn’t hear but in hopes that Luke wouldn’t — there was no telling how far he was from you at any given moment, but he wasn’t going to tell you that, so he just put on his charming Stoll Smile and said, “So, wanna join us?”

You didn’t have anything to do that day, and since you’d assumed you were in for another long eight hours of finding out what you were good at and failing, a friendly game of ball (which you were safe to assume was volley, per what Luke told you yesterday) seemed like a great idea.

Only it wasn’t — friendly, that is. You wandered over to the net set up on the beach with Travis at your side and a taller girl with curly blonde hair narrowed her eyes at you in suspicion, “How good are you at this?”

“Uh —“ You shrugged, shaking your head slightly, “I’ve never played. We don’t have many beaches where I’m from.”

“You don’t need a beach to play volleyball, newbie.” Connor Stoll appeared out of nowhere, grinning at you, “But it’s easy to pick up. You can be on our team.”

Their team consisted of Connor, Chris, Poppy from the Demeter cabin, Evie and Evan (twins from the Ares cabin) and now, yourself. Apparently it was a lost cause whenever the Stolls were on the same team, so Travis was on the other side of the net with the blonde girl from earlier — who’s name you’d learnt was Sabine, and who’s godly parent was Nike, which did not decrease your nerves even a little bit.

“It’s pretty simple once you get the hang of it.” Evie explained to you once she noticed your unsure eyes. “Just don’t hit the ball twice in a row, Sab’s a stickler for that rule.”

“Other than that, we’re pretty lax.” Her brother tagged on, smirking at you, “This isn’t the Olympics.”

“Tell her that.” You side eyed the blonde on the other side of the net, who was cracking her knuckles and discussing strategy with Travis and Brynn, an Athena kid with a bright blue buzzcut.

The twins let out identical chuckles, sharing a look before patting your shoulders, “You’ll be fine.”

You didn’t have time to quip that the pair of them talking at the same time was a little foreboding before the game was on, and a volleyball was heading straight for you.

To be fair to you, you lasted longer than expected. Maybe it was your battle instincts kicking in, but you hadn’t missed the ball once — sure, your defence lacked any real strategy and was more you hitting the ball in whatever direction and hoping for the best, but it was working, so why complain? You wouldn’t qualify for varsity, but at least you were one upping a Stoll brother — the same couldn’t be said for most campers, you knew that much.

You actually thought you were getting pretty good, too. Your team was up by a few points (no thanks to you, all thanks to Evan. Seriously, he was like six foot four) and Sabine was getting angry. Every now and then she’d turn and scowl at Rhea, one of her teammates, and the girl would just shrug in response before returning to her position. But then, just when you started to get confident with it, Travis got you.

Hard, too. You were paying close attention to your feet, making sure you didn’t trip over any sand when you had to move, and unfortunately didn’t notice the ball coming at you until it clipped you in the face. You went down onto your ass, both hands flying to your nose and groaning when you felt a warm trickle of blood slide through your fingers and down your hands.

“Holy shit, newbie.” Travis sped over, dropping to his knees next to his brother and hovering over you, “I am so sorry, are you okay?”

Your speech was muffled and nasally when you replied with a swift, “No, asshole!”

“Shit.” He muttered, looking between Connor and Evie, “Uh, I can take you to the infirmary if you want —“

“I’ll take her.” Evan interrupted. He was crouched somewhere behind you, looking at your teammates over the top of your head. You felt his hands flatten on your back as he pushed you up to stand, the rest of the group joining him and wincing when some blood dripped onto the sand.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to —“ You held out a hand in his direction now that you could see him, only to press it firmly back against your face when your nose simply started to gush once the pressure had been removed.

“Yes,” He nodded, “I do. Let’s go.”

You let him lead you, sending an apologetic look to the remaining teens on the sand — you were pretty sure it looked nothing like an apology since your hands were covering half of your face and there was blood seeping through your fingers, but it was the effort that counted.

You didn’t receive as many looks as you thought you would’ve on the walk to the infirmary, although you assumed demigods had gotten worse injuries than a nosebleed before, so it wasn’t exactly odd. When you got there, you stopped on the porch and tried to speak to Evan as best you could without letting any more blood spill.

“You can — you can go.” You said through your hands, “I got it from here.”

He looked a little unsure, but you nodded firmly and he turned back the way he came. It was pretty embarrassing, walking into the infirmary with a bloody nose on your third day at camp, but the Apollo kid who took care of you said it was only a matter of time before you shed first blood, and that you’d better thank the gods it was a volleyball and not a hellhound that did the damage.

They stopped the bleeding with some sort of special gauze and told you to be a little more careful before sending you on your way — which was when you found Luke.

You didn’t even see him at first, more focused on folding the gauze you’d been given into a perfect square while you stepped off the wooden porch. But then a voice muttered your name in slight shock and confusion, and you looked up to meet those baby brown eyes you couldn’t help but love.

You grinned, “JoJo.”

Luke shook his head, “What were you doing in the infirmary?” His eyes tracked all over you, assessing for any visible injuries. When he found none, he turned his questioning gaze back to your face.

You sucked in some air through your teeth, embarrassed, “I, uh, got hit in the face with a volleyball. Turns out, I’m awful at it.” You let out a weak chuckle, and Luke rolled his eyes in amusement.

“Of course. I thought baseball was your thing?”

“It is.” You nodded, “But there’s nobody out here to play with, so…” Then an idea sprung, and your face lit up so visibly that Luke took a tentative step back, “Hey, why don’t you come watch? We’re playing on the beach.”

“Oh.” The boy paused, eyes sliding to the beach and back to you, “I don’t think so…I, uh, tend to spend my weekends alone.”

“You spend your everything alone.” You pointed out with a raised pair of brows. He pursed his lips. You sighed, “Come on. You don’t have to play.”

He looked as if he was thinking about it, and your hopes were raised a little. You liked Luke, you wanted to know him better and one day consider him a friend rather than a guy you harassed every day. But you were very aware of his aversion for all things social — the comment Travis made about Luke not playing with them anymore saddened you, and it pained you to imagine Luke all alone while his brothers and friends still had fun around him. But then his face dropped, and so did yours, Luke shaking his head no.

“I just…” He shrugged, “I don’t really…”

“It’s okay.” You interrupted before he could spout out his excuse. He didn’t need one. “We can do something else.”

“Oh, I —“ Another shake of the head, “You go back to them, don’t let me ruin it.”

“You aren’t ruining anything.” You said plainly, and you thought that those four words hit Luke a lot harder than expected, because he had this pensive look on his face that didn’t fade until you spoke again, “Listen, I know baseball isn’t exactly a camp sport, but I’ve got a ball. This place has gotta have bats — I mean, if it’s got swords, it’s got bats, right? So we grab them, we go off somewhere and take turns batting. I need to stay in practice anyway, if I’m gonna make varsity.”

You sent him your shiniest smile paired with some doughy eyes, and after squinting at you for a solid ten seconds, Luke agreed to your idea with a hesitant nod. You weren’t exactly expecting him to jump up and down in joy, so you took the liberty of doing that before asking him, very enthusiastically (because if you stayed positive, maybe it would rub off on him), to go look for a bat while you grabbed your ball.

Chris caught you exiting the Hermes cabin while he was filling up his water bottle using the outdoor tap not far from the porch, asking you what you were doing with a baseball. You explained that volleyball was definitely not your thing and ignored his chuckle of agreement in favour of informing him that you would be teaching Luke how to become the next Babe Ruth. He raised a brow.

“Really?”

“Uh, yeah.” You replied, a little put off by his reaction. “Is that a problem?”

“No, no.” He backtracked quickly, hands raised and water sloshing around his bottle as the movement, “I just…I dunno. Luke’s been a little off recently. If I were you, I wouldn’t meddle in it.”

“Meddle?” You asked, shaking your head, “In what?”

“In his…” He puffed out his cheeks, trying to find the words, “His funk.” He shook his head then, eyes glossing over as he thought about it, “He failed his quest, he’s a little butthurt, but…he’ll get over it. Y’know?”

You didn’t know.

“I just don’t think he needs babysitting.” He firmed, looking confident in his wording now that he’d found it, “He’s just gonna talk your ear off about how much he hates his life until you’re borderline suicidal. I wouldn’t bother, personally. He's a big boy, he can get over it.”

You rolled your lips over each other, staring blankly at Chris as he sent you a polite smile and walked back to the beach. Slowly, your eyes narrowed, and your brows pulled together. But you didn't say anything, you just turned around yourself and walked to where you’d asked Luke to meet you.

He was tossing the bat between his hands when you got there, dropping it in his left when he spotted you and nodding, “Alright, where are we doing this?”

You stopped, snapped out of a stupor you didn’t even realise you were in and blinking at him. For the first time since you’d met, it seemed that he was more focused and lively than you were. It irked him a little bit, and he frowned, “Sunny?”

“Sorry.” You responded immediately, shaking your head to rid yourself of your spiralling thoughts, “I just…uh, let’s go somewhere clear. We don’t wanna hit anyone with the ball.”

Luke led you to a clearing in the woods, explaining that the wood nymphs would be able to help you if the ball got lost in the foliage, so there was no need to hold back the arm you’d been bragging about for the entire walk. You just smirked, raised the bat level, and nodded at him to serve.

Yes, you were a thousand percent better at baseball than you were at volleyball. You knew that, of course, but it was nice to be reassured. Luke wasn’t half bad either, but you were also a really good runner, so you kept having to remind him that an average level fielder wouldn’t have a chance against his bats — you just so happened to be way above average.

Plus the wood nymphs were very helpful — apparently they didn’t get to watch many demigod activities other than capture the flag so it was refreshing for them to see you two play, and to actually be able to help.

All in all, you were having a great time. Which of course meant that you were long overdue for something going wrong. Of course.

“I can’t find it.”

“What?” You asked breathlessly, staring at the tree nymph who shrugged at you plainly.

“It rolled into a pond, I think.” He sniffed indignantly, “And I am not climbing into a pond.”

“Oh, and you expect us to?”

And that, kids, is how you ended up knee deep in pond water and ankle deep in something else — with Luke Castellan right by your side.

“This is so gross.” You whispered, grimacing as your hands ran over the murky bottom. You couldn’t see anything but your own reflection when you looked in, so you were replying on touch alone to help find your ball. “I can’t believe this. My lucky ball and it falls into a pond! Not so lucky anymore, huh? Yeah, lucky my ass.”

“Hey, Sunny?” A slosh of water rippled over you and you had to straighten up to avoid the tiny waves splashing in your face. They only increased at your movements, but you were too busy glaring at Luke to notice. He pressed his mouth together, holding in a chuckle, “You’re not being very sunny right now.”

You huffed, flinging your arms out at your sides and wincing when you splashed water on yourself by doing so, “I —“ A huff, “I don’t feel very sunny, Castellan. I am wading in sludge.”

He actually had the audacity to let a tiny grin slip through, “Wow, the last name? You’re acting like me right now. It’s weird.”

“I can’t believe this.” You repeated, narrowing your eyes at the boy, “I’ve been trying to cheer you up since the day I met you and when you finally do, it’s because you’re relishing in my pain? Fuck you.”

As if he was trying to piss you off, Luke laughed. He actually laughed, exactly like he had yesterday and if you weren’t so annoyed you’d be smiling at him for it. But you were annoyed, so all you did in response was send a wave of pond water at him and drench his front.

He stopped laughing. You started laughing.

“Okay, is that how you wanna play this?” He asked, stepping closer, “Is it?”

You grinned, stepping back. The water moved when you did, and the paired struggle of your’s and Luke’s legs under the water just increased the waves that oscillated around your knees. It slid up to your thighs and threatened to wet the denim of your shorts, but you were too busy prying your foot out of whatever the hell lived at the bottom of the pond so you could escape Luke’s wrath.

You shook your head, “You don’t wanna do this.”

He nodded mockingly, “I think I do.”

Then it was on. He lunged for you, and you dived to the left in a swift attempt to get around him. Water was splashing everywhere at this point but neither of you cared — especially when Luke’s hands were mere inches from your arms, waiting for your ankle to snag on some algae and pull you back so he could push you over. You were smarter than that though, so you did a swift one-eighty, dragging your hands under the water with you as you did — the wave that accumulated from the momentum doused Luke from head to toe, his curls sticking to his forehead. He wiped them away and blew hard from his mouth before forming a weak glare in your direction.

Your jaw trembled as you held in what you knew would be some serious chortles — but it was silent. The only noise apparent was the settling of the waves now that you had both stopped moving and Luke’s heavy breathing in front of you. He shook his head, stepping forward slowly, and you braced yourself for what was about to come.

“Hey!”

You paused. You shared a look with Luke before looking confusedly at the form that had appeared suddenly between the two of you. It was a girl by the looks of it, only she was made entirely of the water the two of you were standing in. She glared between the pair of you, hands on her hips.

“I don’t appreciate all this splashing.” You felt suddenly like you were being berated by a school teacher for talking too loud during class, “Are you trying to drain my pond? Are you?”

“N—No.” You responded, shaking your head, “We were just looking for — ”

The water nymph held up your ball with a stern expression, “This? Yeah, it looked like you were.”

Her sarcasm was not lost on you, and you tried your best not to meet Luke’s eyes, knowing they would fail you the second you did. Instead you looked at the nymph before you and took the ball from her outstretched hand, “Thank you. And, um, sorry…about the splashing.”

She folded her arms, lifting her head and straightening her shoulders, “That’s okay. Now get out.”

You were both quick to exit the water, although not too quick that you made anymore of it splash onto the rocks. Once you were out, the nymph nodded in satisfaction and melted back into the pond, and you and Luke were finally able to breathe. Then, you both burst into laughter.

“Oh my gods.” You huffed, shaking your head and looking down at yourself, “Did we just get into trouble?”

“With a water nymph?” He finished, shrugging off his wet shirt and wringing it out, “Yeah. How embarrassing.”

Your mouth was suddenly very dry. You knew Luke was strong — he had to be to fight a dragon and come back alive. To be known as the Best Swordsman in Camp. To be trusted by so many campers despite his newfound, distanced demeanour. But damn.

You blew out a long puff of air, hoping your reddened cheeks could be excused as some light sunburn. You weren’t as soaked as he was, but you still wafted your damp shirt from your body in hopes that it would dry — and also to give yourself something to do that wasn’t ogling at Luke’s lean figure.

He spread his shirt out on a rock, ensuring the sun was hitting it right before lowering himself to the ground on the dry grass a few feet away. He leant back on his hands, face to the sky, and revelled in the warmth. You stayed standing, fiddling with the button on your shorts, staring at him. At the scar on his face, at the rest of them along his chest.

He cracked one eye open, glancing at you, “What?”

“I, uh.” You licked your lips, “Nothing. Nothing.” You muttered, taking a seat beside him and crossing your legs. Your gaze stuck firmly to your lap and you waited for his to return to the sky. It didn’t.

“You can ask me.” He said then, shrugging.

“What happened on your quest?” You let slip, and when he stayed silent for a second too long, you realised that maybe that wasn't the question he was giving you permission to ask. “I’m sorry. I know it’s none of my business, it’s nobody’s really. But Chris told me before that you’re in a funk and that seemed like a gross understatement but then again I’ve known you for, what, three days? He’s known you for years, so surely he’s right. But you just seem like it’s more than a funk, and I don’t know what to believe because I don’t know what happened but I also don’t want to ask because it’s none of my business and it’s also very clearly a sore subject because of what happened with Dean. Not that I think you’re gonna fly off the handle or anything, but it’s definitely a touchy subject and I can’t just go demanding all the details just because I wanna be your friend and— ”

A hand over your mouth stopped you from continuing what Luke was sure to be a very long tangent. He looked at you, half in shock, half in amusement, and huffed out a laugh, “Sunny, you need to calm down.”

You couldn’t respond, but you did nod. He removed his hand slowly and you swallowed your embarrassment. Luke sat up fully, straightening his back and clearing his throat, “Uh, okay. Have you heard of that Hercules story? With the golden apples?”

You nodded, afraid to speak in case you went off on a rant again. He nodded with you, “Yeah, well, my father sent me on that. The exact same quest…except I failed.”

That explained the scar, and the dragon story he’d mentioned very briefly yesterday. He started to go into a little more detail about his quest — and suddenly you were overcome with this…angry sort of sadness.

Hermes sent Luke on a quest that had already been done. After hearing Clarisse yap your ear off about Kleos, you understood why he’d been a little bummed. Honestly, if it were you, you wouldn’t have even gone. What’s the point in doing a quest that’s already been done? But you didn’t say that to Luke, who seemed a little deep into his story. You just simmered in your irritation while he continued to explain his battle with Ladon, and his ultimate failure.

“I refused to leave the infirmary for a week.” He chuckled, but it was a little sad. “I mean, I’m supposed to be a leader here, and I fail my first quest? Some demigod I turned out to be.”

Without even thinking, you shook your head, “You didn’t fail.” Luke looked at you, confused, “You battled a dragon with a hundred heads and lived. That doesn’t sound like failure to me.”

“But I didn’t get the apples.” He explained. “I disappointed my father.”

“Your father…” You said slowly, unsure of how your next words would land, “Who I’m going to assume had never spoken to you until the day he gave you your quest?” Luke nodded after a brief pause and you took that as permission to continue, “So who cares if he’s disappointed? He clearly doesn’t care if you’re mauled by a dragon.”

“Exactly.” Luke replied, brows pulled together in the way they had been when you’d first met. Angry, irritated. Disappointed. “Everyone keeps telling me to get over it. That demigods have failed quests before and it just means I need to try harder next time but…why should there be a next time? Really, if you sit and think about it for a second, why are we even here? To train, so we don’t die whenever monsters come and attack us? And who’s fault is that? Maybe if our parents were good people, there wouldn’t be any monsters trying to murder their kids. If they cared, even a little bit, they’d do more than just claim us and leave us to die!”

He scoffed, looking in the direction where you knew the rest of the campers resided — playing games, building weapons, dedicating every waking hour to becoming the best of the best. And for what? For glory? For a pat on the back from a parent who can’t even be bothered to raise them?

“They don’t get it.” He said then, turning back to you, “They think this is all okay. They’re too invested to realise that they’re just being used. They’re so focused on getting a shred of recognition from the gods that they don’t understand that it’s never gonna come.”

“So…” You finally spoke, your first words in a minute, “What do we do?”

Luke shrugged then, “I don’t know yet.”

It was silent for a long time after that. Luke stayed staring at the floor and you led back to stare at the sky. He was right, wasn’t he? Sure, you’d only been in this for a little while, but you weren’t stupid. You knew the gods didn’t care — you’d figured out that much when you got to camp. A dumping ground for demigods. Demigod daycare, except mommy isn’t coming to pick you up at three o’clock. Luke deserved to be angry, he deserved to mope — they all did.

But they wouldn’t. You could sit there and curse the gods for hours on end, but that was still half of you. And that, you thought, was probably the worst part of it all.

You were so caught up in your feelings that when the tree that had been shading you phased into a nymph and walked away, you jumped halfway out of your skin, “Jeezum crow.”

You looked at Luke, expecting him to either share the same dumbfounded look on his face or be laughing at you — something he seemed to be doing a lot of today — but instead he was staring at you, slack-jawed and wide eyed. You blinked, “What?”

“You’re from Vermont.”

Your mouth snapped shut, and his expanded into the grin you’d been hassling him for since you’d set your sights on him. You sighed, “Fuck.”

He let out a disbelieving laugh, “You’re from Vermont! Holy shit. I should’ve known it when you called me a flatlander.” He threw his head back, and you shook yours at his dramatics. But he didn’t care, he just pointed at you, “You’re a fuckin’ woodchuck!”

“Oh my gods.” You groaned into your hands, pulling yourself to your feet in hopes of escaping his sudden glee. “Is that so bad?”

“No.” He laughed, following you, “I’m just amazed that I figured it out. I’m a genius!”

“Okay.” You sent him a blank look, but it only lasted a few seconds before your tiny smile was fighting through, “It’s not like you’ve discovered the meaning of life. Calm down.”

“Never.” He shook his head, “This is my greatest achievement.”

“You fought a dragon.”

“Screw the dragon!” He gripped your biceps, grinning at you, “You’re from Vermont!”

“You’re not funny.”

“And yet you’re laughing.”

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I’m not!”

____________

“What’d you do to him?”

You threw a piece of salmon into the fire, glancing at Chris, “I’m getting deja vu. Haven’t you asked me this already?”

“Yeah, but…” The boy looked behind him, back at the Hermes table, where Luke was perched on the end and waiting patiently for you to come back from the hearth before digging into his food, “This time I mean it. I mean, he still isn’t talking to us, but he’s sitting on our side of the table again. You can be honest with me…” He sent you a grave look, “Did you give him a BJ?”

“What? No!” You threw a pea at him. “I just listened to him.” You tried to be a little serious, but clearly Chris wasn’t getting the hint, so you relented, “And doused him in pond water.”

He laughed at that, nodding proudly. You turned back to the fire, asking Aphrodite to get rid of your split ends. You’d given up on praying to your father, deciding to go through every Olympian until one of them answered. So far, only Hera had responded — you assumed so, anyway, when a cuckoo woke you up from your afternoon nap. That wasn’t very helpful, but at least it was an answer. You didn’t suspect campers prayed to her often, so she probably appreciated the sentiment.

“So…” Travis smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at you once you sat down. He sent this look around the group, but even Connor gave him a weirded out look in response. He huffed, “It’s team day tomorrow.”

A collective ohhh seemed to hum around the group, but you were still confused. You sent a questioning look to Luke who said, “For Capture the Flag. Tomorrow is when all the cabin counsellors gang up and decide on the two teams.”

“Then we have five days to strategise.” Travis continued on very dramatically, hands splayed on the table, “And on Friday…we battle.”

That seemed to lift the energy up a bit, the people around you sharing mischievous looks. They started to discuss amongst them who would be the best cabin to ally with, Lana turning to Chris, “Who are you gonna pick?”

Chris went to speak, but paused. He seemed to think about something, looking slightly scared but still turning to the boy across from him anyway, “I thought maybe…Luke would like to reinstate himself as team captain this month.”

Right, you’d completely forgotten. During your spear lessons with Clarisse, you’d asked her why it was so important that you be amazing at fighting quickly if monsters couldn’t get into camp. She’d then explained the whole situation that was Capture the Flag — how it was a bigger deal than the super bowl around here — before briefly mentioning that Luke had always been Hermes team captain, but stepped down for the last game because his scar was still healing from his quest. Chris had taken over for him, and based off of the looks the people around you were sporting, you assumed they weren’t expecting him to give up his title so quickly.

You couldn’t blame them. Luke hadn’t exactly expressed much desire to captain this time — he hasn’t expressed much desire for anything these days apparently. You were all waiting for him to let Chris down easy, but instead he looked up from his plate with an indifferent nod and said, “Yeah, sure.”

Nobody said anything. Except Chris who, when Luke stood to rack up his empty plate, looked at you gravely and asked, “Was it a handjob?”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons @woodlandwrites @theo-notts-doll @iammightsadyall @fennecswife @csifandom @tsireyasgf (just ask to be removed/added!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #i am a hoe for loser!luke #i also know nothing about baseball #hence the very brief baseball scene #its just like rounders im pretty sure #but im not too confident on that #also reader maybe gets claimed in the next part #wink wink

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violetspark14 · 3 months

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maybe the 2.7k word essay gave it away but i like radiostatic a little bit😨 anyways here is my own interpretation of alastors outfit from the AMAZING series 666: live on air! by @prince-liest (hope you do not mind the tag !!)

#brief recess from ace attorney content to indulge my inner christian borle fanboy #my art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #+ one tiny angel dust #radiostatic #very out of practice drawing dresses and valentino…..both were surprisingly fun

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ruporas · 10 months

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all I wanted was to save them... (ID in alt)

#nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #tw blood #let me know if there's any other tags i need to use!!! not sure if it counts as gore #ruporas art #*vash voice* YOU ARE NOT WRONG/LOST WOLFWOOD!!!!!!#i think very often about ch 49 where wolfwood thought it was fr over for him for that brief moment. he was already bearing with so much #fatigue that it wasn't going to be enough for him to fight back properly.. and ough... augh..... for the first time after bearing that cros #someone saved him. someone saved himmmm AUGHHHH <-- guy who can't be normal about it even though its been 7 months since i read it #but he's suffered alone for so long and continued to do so because it's all he ever knew in those short years #and its devastating. his one and only desire was simple and it was still difficult for him to reach T_T #anyway... i love him... holds him tenderly in my palms

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friedri-ce · 3 months

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made their gijinka versions so they could commit some violent ULTRAKISSING

#tw blood #hehe bloody kissers...#i want to provide some brief explanations to their designs #v1 is not a human. not a cyborg. still a robot with a very human-like head (artificial)#also they cant emote #oh and gabby is inspired by actual depictions of st. gabriel the archangel #but just a lil bit #ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #gabv1el

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bythepen98 · 1 year

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@zutaramonth Day 3: After all these years ||

I just love the idea of them learning to dance together and being so very cute and awkward about it at first 🥺💕.

Brief backstory:

Although they were busy preparing for the war, they still needed time to have fun and de-stress so a small feast with music and dancing seemed like a good idea. Zuko and Katara were pushed to spend time together by the rest of the Gaang because they've had enough of the weird distance between the two, brought by brewing feelings that both weren't sure about acknowledging yet. At this point, they've already resolved most of their issues and were on track to becoming really good friends until the 'complication' happened.

Feelings can be ass sometimes fr.

Somehow, what started as a one time, peer pressured, clumsy bonding attempt between two hyperaware-of-each-other teenagers ended up lasting longer than expected. Excuses would be made to continue dancing together because once the initial awkwardness has passed, they found that it was actually quite relaxing (especially for two usually hot headed people) just going through the motions and communicating with looks and gentle touches what they had zero courage to say out loud. Both were also restless and couldn't always spend their hours training so dancing felt like fair game. A very pleasant and completely platonic way of passing the time with a good friend, or at least that's what they told themselves.

Then the war ended, feelings were finally acknowledged and returned now that there was enough time to reflect and actually do something about it and time continued to pass. No matter the changes and busy schedules that came with adulthood and bearing the responsibilities of ruling/helping rule a nation, some things remained constant. Though they never broadcasted it, the Gaang knew that Katara and Zuko would sometimes be found at night just swaying in each other's arms while they quietly talked about their day. It became a tradition - their way to bond and reconnect after a busy day. It was also muscle memory at this point and something they would naturally drift to doing when the opportunity arose. If they weren't training, lounging and drinking tea or walking arm in arm along the courtyard for a stroll, they'd be dancing.

Ofc the dances varied. Most of the time it was simple, intimate, and didn't require much energy. It was during festivals and other special events where they'd let loose and swap partners with their friends. They definitely would've taught each other's traditional dances too. Most of the time they stuck to couple dances though.

The two would then make it to their golden years surrounded by friends and family. In this au, Aang, Sokka and Suki are definitely still alive and kicking and they, together with Toph, would reminisc about the good old days and pat themselves in the back for helping get Zuko and Katara together. They would've gotten together eventually anyway but the Gaang just sped up the process and the credit for starting the whole dancing tradition goes to them. Aang isn't afraid to admit that he and whoever he married in this au also partake in said tradition; Sokka and Suki would do so every now and then but they much prefer exchanging swords as their love language; Toph is indifferent and much prefers just sitting back and letting them enjoy themselves.

This is way over due but I'm glad I was able to finish it. Will sadly be the only prompt I'll be able to do for zutara month bc life threw a wrench and made me too busy, though I'm still interested in making the other prompts at a later date. /N

#zutara month 2023 #day 3 #after all these years #zutara #zutara fanart #zuko x katara #zuko fanart #katara fanart #atla #avatar the last airbender #not a writer but I couldn't help including a very brief background that popped while drawing this

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man-im-so-high · 2 months

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matty and his blue nike hoodie 💙🤍

#matty healy #matt healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #the 1975 #satvb #still at their very best #at their very best #a brief inquiry into online relationships #i like it when you sleep for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it #notes on a conditional form #being funny in a foreign language

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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

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just desserts | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.

warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.

word count: 6,3 thousand words

posted: monday - january 30, 2023

A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.

“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.

“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.

“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.

Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.

Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.

“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.

“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.

“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.

Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.

You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.

Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.

It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.

“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.

Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.

Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.

Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.

“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.

Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?

“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”

“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”

“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.

“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”

“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.

Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.

You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.

You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.

The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.

Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.

In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.

It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.

. . So fucking perfect.

The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.

Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.

Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.

Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.

“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.

The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.

When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.

Work sucked on Monday afternoons.

All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.

You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.

“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”

“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.

Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.

Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.

There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.

Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.

“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.

“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”

“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”

“Of course, you do.”

“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”

“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”

“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”

“Spit it out, bitch.”

“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.

“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.

How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.

“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”

The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.

“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”

“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”

“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”

“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”

“I suppose he is.”

Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”

“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”

“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”

“I guess.”

“Room five?” You nodded.

“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”

“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”

“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”

“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”

“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”

Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.

The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.

You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.

Your last stop was the grocery store.

Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.

How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.

Oh, how much easier life would be.

You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.

Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.

“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.

“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”

“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”

“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”

“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.

“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”

“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.

“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.

“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.

For some reason that made him so much more attractive.

“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.

He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”

Craving something sweet?

Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.

A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.

“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”

“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”

“It does. I love movies.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”

“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”

The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.

“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”

“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.

“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”

“Deal.”

“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”

“See you, neighbor.”

Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.

Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.

You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.

Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.

“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.

Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.

“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”

“Do you want me to shut the door?”

“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.

Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.

“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”

“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”

“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.

“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”

“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.

“Oh no, you don’t.”

“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”

“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”

“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”

“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”

Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.

“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.

“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”

In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.

“You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.

If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.

“How about we have one together?”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”

The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”

Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.

“What do you think?”

“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”

“You can call me Kookie, you know.”

You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”

“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.

“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”

“Kookie’s Cookies.”

“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”

“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”

“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.

“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”

Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.

“Jungkook. .”

“I mean it.”

“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.

“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”

“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.

“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”

A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.

You were malfunctioning; shocked.

It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.

Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.

“You like me?”

Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.

“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.

The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.

If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.

And they were calling out for you so loudly.

“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”

You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.

He nodded yet again.

Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.

After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.

“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”

“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”

There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.

You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.

You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.

“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.

If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.

His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.

“I’m so close.”

“Let go for me.”

His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.

“You were so good for me, darling.”

“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.

“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.

“Are you tired?”

“I just had a long day yesterday.”

“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”

“Please.”

Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.

The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.

“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.

“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”

“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.

Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.

“There’s only two rules baby.”

“What are the rules?”

“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”

“Yes, darling.”

Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”

“Mhm.”

You shoved it in your pocket for later.

Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.

Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.

“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”

Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.

You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.

“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.

If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.

“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”

“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.

“Did you bring any condoms?”

He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”

“Are you. .?”

“I’m clean. Are you?”

“I am.”

There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.

Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.

“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.

The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.

Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.

“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.

It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.

“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.

He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.

“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.

“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.

“It’s a date.”

It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”

“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”

“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.

“Don’t thank him.”

“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”

“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”

Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.

“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.

This is going to be an interesting date.

a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.

thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)

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