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bloodyknucklesforme · 5 months

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Red Summer | Ghoap x F!Reader | Slasher!AU

After breaking up with your long term boyfriend you take a job working as a camp counselor in Northern Vermont. Seven weeks of swimming, volleyball, archery and hiking. There's even a hot lifeguard. It seems perfect until you find something evil is lurking in the woods

Tags: Slasher AU, Ghoap x Reader, intro chapter, nondescript reader, dark fic

Chapter 1: Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

5.5k words

It smelled like Summer. Ozonic and earthy, carried into your car by the breeze as you drove North through winding roads. Montpelier was two hours behind you now.

Despite the eighty degree heat, Vermont was lush and green. Only a couple more miles of shaded forest roads before you reached camp. At least you hoped so. Your maps app had been slow to load the last twenty miles.

The place was North, nestled between the border of Canada and the New Hampshire state line. It was gorgeous though. Anytime you thought about moving out of New England to somewhere cheaper the next season changed your mind. The trees just didn’t look as pretty in fall or the snow as splendid in winter. You just wished it was cheaper.

Suppose that’s why you took this job, as much as it didn’t appeal to you. Camp counselor for seven long weeks, the pay was shit but your food and board came free. After a bad breakup you didn’t have time to find a new lease so your life was packed up into a rented storage box with anything valuable shoved into the back of your car.

A friend of a friend recommended it. She’d been working here for years, attended for even more. She was an old money New Englander. Boarding school outside of Boston and all that. She was nice though. Got you the job over any qualified candidates. It wasn’t nepotism but whatever it was called you wouldn’t complain.

Your car dinged. Low gas. Shit.

Scrolling quickly through the map you saw a gas station up ahead. You’d just make it… hopefully.

You let out a sigh of relief as you pulled into the station. It was older with dusty windows and sun-faded posters for cigarettes.

A piece of paper was taped to the pump.

“Reader broken. Pay inside” scribbled in sharpie.

You sighed and headed inside.

It was dusty inside too. A couple aisles of brightly packaged food and walls lined with fridges filled with beer and soda. The man behind the counter glanced up from his book when you walked in.

He was handsome. Black with dark, short cut curly hair and big brown eyes. Much too handsome to be working in the middle of nowhere. He’d look more fitting in the corner of a bar, buying you a drink. He smiled up at you and your heart might have skipped a beat.

“Pump three? How much?” He was English… strange.

“Just…uh… ten bucks.” You stumbled out.

“It’s the accent,” he chuckled. “It throws everybody off the first time.”

“It’s a strange place for an Englishman to be, I guess.” You swayed awkwardly.

“I go to Middlebury. Easier to get a summer job than fly home.” He shrugged.

“Understandable.” You weren’t an expert on Vermont geography but you swore the college was on the other side of the state.

“Ten on three.” He said, nodding his head towards the window.

“Oh yeah. Thank you.”

“You still got to pay, love.”

“Oh fuck, yeah. Sorry… uh… Kyle.” You read his name tag before digging through your tote bag, finding the last bit of your cash.

“No worries. What brings a girl like you out here.”

“I’m working at the camp.”

“Weldon lake, right?”

“Yeah. First time… I’m going the right way, right?”

“If you continue up the road. There will be a sign when you need to turn.” He handed you your receipt.

“Thank you.”

“Hey!” You were half way out the door when he called. “Stay alive out there. Heard the campers can be down right evil.”

“I’ll try!”

The rest of the journey was smooth, there was a sign just like Kyle said. Another one after that taking you down a long gravel drive and into a dirt parking lot. A couple other cars were there already.

You made sure everything important was locked up in the trunk before grabbing your duffel bag and tote. You hoped you brought enough sunscreen.

The sun was warm on your back as you made your way up to the main building. Two other girls were hanging around on the porch. They each wore matching white baseball shirts with red sleeves and trim, each labeled with STAFF on the back.

“Hey, you’re Sophia’s friend, right? I’m Janie.” She jumped down from the porch fence. “I love your braids by the way.”

You’d done your hair before leaving, figuring it’d be easier to keep clean braided than fight for limited shower time.

“I’m Natalie,” The other girl greeted. You introduced yourself, thanking Janie for the compliment.”

“I think your cabin is next to mine. I can take you over once you check in.” Janie said.

Check in was easy enough. Sign a couple more papers, show off your ID to prove you were you and get your cabin assignment, key and two staff shirts. Tomorrow was orientation before the campers arrived Monday morning. Tonight was for getting to know everyone.

“So, where’s this cabin?” you asked, walking outside.

The girls grinned and led you down the path. Everything seemed to branch off from here. They pointed out where the dining hall was just past the main office next to the nurse’s station.

“Don’t expect much. They’re still recovering from when Covid almost killed this place.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. They had to raise fees and a bunch of parents freaked out. Guess an extra hundred dollars really threw all the millionaires off.” Natalie laughed.

Next was the pool, fully fenced in and surrounded by two tennis courts and two basketball courts on either side.

“Hey lasses!” A man called from the pool, leaning over the chain link fence. Natalie rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. “Who’s the new girl?”

He had a thick Scottish accent. Lots of transplants for the area, you guessed. He was also handsome. Muscular with a dark mohawk and light eyes. He was shirtless with very short and tight red shorts on and a silver whistle around his neck. He was dripping water over the ground.

“You say that like you aren’t also the new guy, Johnny!” Natalie called, clearly annoyed already.

“Nat hates him.” Janie giggled.

“It’s been three hours and he’s already tried to fuck half the counselors. He’s a dog.”

“One I’d put on a leash.” Janie laughed.

Johnny walked over, still dripping wet. His crocs squeaked with every step.

“Johnny,” he grinned, holding out his hand to you. You introduced yourself as he shook your hand excitedly. He had a tattoo on his side, up by his ribs. You couldn’t see all of it but it looked like a heart with someone’s initials in it. S and something else, you couldn’t tell for sure. “Beautiful name for a beautiful gal.”

Your cheeks felt hot as his blue eyes traveled over your body.

“It’s going to be a fun seven weeks with all you bonnie lasses around.” He grinned. Nat looped her arm around yours.

“Down dog. We still have half the camp to show off.”

“You know where to find me. Pool looked like the lake when I got here.” He raised his hands up as he walked backwards towards the pool again.

“Come on, before we lose Janie.”

“He’s hot!” She defended.

“You just like him because he got your name right on the first try.”

“He’s intelligent too!”

The cabins were next. Ten white painted buildings split in half with about eight beds on each side and a shared bathroom in the back. They formed a circle around a fire pit with log benches.

You had cabin room 14. Janie was the building next door in 15 and Nat with 16 sharing with her. They took turns explaining everything.

“Your bed is the only non bunk and the chest underneath locks so anything you don’t want the campers to find should go there.”

“Basically all your shit. I had a copy of Crime and Punishment stolen last year. Fucking Crime and Punishment like any of these kids could read Dostoevsky.”

“Showers are in the back. Hot water is sparse so if you want some, move quick and early.”

“Breakfast is at 8. Coffee tastes like shit unless you pour half a pound of sugar in it.”

“You can vape just outside but if you smoke you gotta ask your neighbor counselor to watch your kids. At least thirty feet away or they’ll snitch too.”

“Weed is only for days off because they'll either snitch or demand you share. That goes for kids and counselors.”

“Days off are randomly assigned but you should get one every other week.”

“I don’t recommend sleeping with other counselors but if you must, go to your car.” Natalie said.

“We’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner is in an hour. You can meet everyone else then.”

“Thank you guys for everything.” You felt overwhelmed just a bit.

They left, still arguing about Johnny. He was cute but the break up wounds were still fresh. You didn’t want to sneak around either. You weren’t a teenager anymore.

You haphazardly dumped the contents of your duffle into the lock chest before shoving it back under the bed. You had seven weeks to organize it.

The bed was okay. A plastic covered mattress with an old sleeping bag. You should have brought your own pillow. Maybe a Target run on your next day off whenever that was.

The ache in your muscles from driving all day hit hard the moment you sat down.

There was a knock on the door.

“Hey sleepyhead!” Sophia came in. You rubbed your face as you woke up. Out the window you could see the sky looked darker, a blue summer evening. “I’m glad you ended up coming.”

“Yeah. Thanks for getting me the job.” You stretched, your shoulders cracking. “It’s nice to get away.”

“I’m sorry about you and Ale.” There it was. She was nice but always craved gossip.

“It’s okay. Just wanted different things.”

You shrugged. It wasn’t a bad breakup, no arguing, just a slow and painful demise. He’d even offered to let you stay with him when the lease ended and he found out you didn’t have a place to go. You chose this instead.

“Well, let’s get you something to eat. The food is incredibly mediocre but I heard a rumor that the lifeguard has beer and weed for the fire pit.”

She was not wrong about dinner. Hot dogs with a slice of Kraft cheese melted on top with a bag of chips as a side.

You sat with Nat, Sophia and Janie.

“There are my lovely ladies!” Johnny sat down, forcing his way between Cel and Sophia. Nat looked like she wanted to kill him. “Coming out to the lake tonight? Hope you all brought swim suits or birthday suits.”

“Jesus Christ.” Nat groaned.

“I think we’re gonna have an easy night. Some of us had long drives.” Sophia motioned to herself and you. “Just some girl time.”

Johnny pouted.

“Fair enough but I do expect all of you at the bonfire tomorrow.” He pointed at all of them, even Nat. “Especially you new girl.”

He got up and jogged off to another table of girls.

“Am I allowed to call him a slut?”

“What happened to dog?” Janie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dogs can be trained.”

You all laughed. You’d been worried that you wouldn’t fit in. All the other girls knew each other for years at this point. Janie and Sophia had been coming here since they were kids. Nat met Janie in high school and got a job as a junior counselor with her the first chance they got.

It wasn’t a super attractive job and the pay was shit but it looked good on resumes and college applications apparently. Showed responsibility. Most of your experiences with camp were from horror films.

The sun was still out as the four of you walked back. Sophia was your cabin neighbor, taking care of room 13. It’s where you all gathered.

Sophia and you sat on her bed while she did your nails.

“Red looks nice on you.” It was a bright cherry red. She’d picked it out, saying they should all match.

The evening was spent talking and laughing. You asking questions about camp life and getting advice from the other girls.

You had friends back home but you were glad you fit in so fast. Any anxiety and fear for the Summer slipped away as the sun set.

“I’m beat.” Nat yawned. It was almost midnight now. Janie agreed and the two wandered off back to their cabin.

“I’ll head back too. Thank you for being so welcoming, Soph.”

“Absolutely! It’s nice to get fresh meat every once and a while. It can be tough with the kids so some people get jaded. I hope you have fun this Summer and if you don’t you can blame me.” She laughed.

The air was cool on the little porch out front. Most of the other cabins had their lights off by now and the center was lit up with fireflies, neon yellow dots.

There was an orange dot out towards the back of one of the cabins across the way. A cigarette. The man smoking it seemed larger than any counselor you’d seen but it was dark and he was half hidden behind the building. It was Johnny’s cabin, you think. He was big.

He waved and you waved back. He dropped the cigarette and stamped it out. The little corner fell dark and you went into your side.

You didn’t realize how quiet the world could be as you curled up in your sleeping bag. No hum of electronics or cars. No people yelling above or below you. Just the stillness of the stars.

It was an early morning. Johnny was running around the circle of cabins playing music to wake everyone up. He was shirtless again and his shorts seemed shorter than the day before. You wouldn’t complain.

“So why did you choose this wonderful vista as a summer job?” Johnny asked, jogging up next to you as you made your way to the dining hall.

“Needed a break. Get out in nature for a bit. I grew up in the suburbs and just broke up with my boyfriend so I guess I wanted to breathe for a bit. You?”

“Running from my previous life of crime.” He smiled. “Nah, just also trying to get away. Was military back home, knee injury did me in. Didn’t know what else to do. Hiked part of the Appliachian trail. You know, it's the same mountain range as the Highlands. Felt like I had to see them. Haven’t really felt like going back home yet.”

“You hiked alone?” You raised an eyebrow. You knew that it was one of the longest and hardest trails in the country.

“Had a mate with me but I’m on my lonesome now.” He opened the door for you. Sure, he was boisterous but he seemed harmless one on one. Maybe a little dogish but he wasn’t going to hump your leg unprompted.

“Shirts are needed in the dining hall, Mactavish!” Sophia called. He held up his hands in surrender before fishing out a cropped muscle tee that had been shoved into his pocket. It was a nice change of pace to be around a man that wanted to show off his own skin rather than try to get girls to show theirs.

You told yourself before you got here that you wouldn’t look for that kind of distraction. It wasn’t worth it, especially not this early. You could look though. No harm in that.

Bacon, Eggs and self-serve cereal was today’s breakfast. You joined back up with the girls from last night. Orientation was supposed to take up most of the day so they encouraged you to grab a couple pieces of fruit and a protein bar.

“Only fill up your water bottle in here. There are fountains elsewhere but I think they taste weird.” Said Janie.

You were put in a group with Johnny, Sophia, and another guy named Warren. He and Sophia were long term counselors so they gladly took on the role of being you and Johnny’s tour guide. Johnny had been hired because of his lifeguard training so he already knew the layout of the lake and pool. You were scolded for not having proper shoes for hiking.

“What’s your size? I might have an old pair in my car.” Sophia offered. “If not I think there’s an L.L.Bean like two hours away. We can go on our next day off.”

You weren’t sure if you could afford brand new boots so silently hoped that Sophia did have that old pair and they fit.

“Don’t want ya getting blisters all summer.” Johnny said. He was doing the hike in crocs but apparently did have boots back at his cabin.

You didn’t do the full trail but Warren pointed out the different routes and how difficult each one was and which ones kids could do by themselves and which ones they couldn’t. The fields were next. A soccer field and baseball field were across the way from the cabins. It was a loose definition of each. One was a huge patch of grass and the other a diamond of dirt. Both looked a little off size wise. There was the sports supply shed that had all the equipment in it. Only a couple counselors had keys to it.

“People kept using it inappropriately.” Sophia smiled.

There was the art building, the rec hall, a path leading towards the archery field and riflery field.

“Riflery?”

“Yeah. We used to teach kids how to shoot. Mostly clay pigeons but it was one of the programs cut after Covid,” Warren explained.

“Shame I missed it. Could have taught the kids trick shots.” Johnny joked, pretending to aim a rifle backwards over his shoulder.

The horse stable was also closed. Too expensive to have horses here for even half the season.

The Lake was the last part of the tour. It was on the other side of the road so to get there was an underpass to get there. It was large enough for five adults to walk side by side comfortably but the yellow light from the lamps gave it a sickly vibe.

It ended a little ways before the beach. There were several rows of Kayaks and another shed filled with life preservers and paddles.

“Wow Johnny! You cleaned it up well.” Warren clapped him on the back. For a moment Johnny looked irritated that he’d been touched but he shoved that emotion out of the way to make room for his usual excited self.

“Yeah. Cleaned up the best I could.”

“It looks great, Johnny.” You were impressed. He’d even sprayed the kayaks down, bright clean plastic in a rainbow of colors.

“Yer making me blush.” He laid a hand over his heart.

The lake was gorgeous. Cream colored sand feeding into sapphire waters. You could just see the beach on the other side, a small empty dock with a path leading into the woods. The camp side had a floating platform about thirty feet into the water.

“Campers have to swim there and back to pass the swimming competency test.” Sophia explained. “If you can’t swim on your own you’re stuck in the buoyed area.”

There was a ten by ten foot area cordoned off by buoys, keeping to the shallow end of the lake. Made enough sense. No one wanted to fish a dead kid out of the water.

“Let’s head back. We don’t want to miss lunch.” Warren clapped his hands together.

The four of you made the trek back to the dining hall. You did feel like blisters were starting to form on the back of your ankles. You’d have to put band-aids on them later.

The rest of the afternoon was spent going over itinerary for the following week. Campers would arrive tomorrow between ten and six. It was a day mostly planned out for settling them in with an inaugural bonfire that night. After that it was seven weeks of regular old American camp adventures.

You went back to your cabin the moment you had free time. Your ankles hadn’t started to bleed but they were bright red and throbbing. You applied the bandaids and grabbed another pair of socks to wear the rest of the way.

There was about an hour and half before dinner and final orientation from the camp managers, who, you had been told, often made themselves scarce throughout the summer to avoid having to do their jobs. You settled on top of your sleeping bag. A nice breeze came in through the screen door. Janie had told you that it was the best way to keep the building cool.

You thought about Ale. His smile and deep laugh. How he’d wake you up in the morning with kisses to the back of your neck. How he loved your hair and ass. How he’d whisper in Spanish to you. You still had the English/Spanish dictionary he gave you shoved in a box back in the city. You missed him. Your cowboy. He would have been so disappointed to hear the stables were closed. Maybe you’d call him after all this. Ask to work something out.

You drifted off daydreaming about the scent of his cologne.

“Bonnie! You’re gonna miss dinner!” Johnny was knocking on the screen door. Maybe Nat was right in being annoyed by him all the time.

“I’ll just miss it.” you sighed, rolling over on the bed.

“You never know which meal is your last. Best not to skip any! C’mon or I’ll drag ya myself.”

You would have thrown a pillow if you had one. How did he always have so much energy?

He jogged literal circles around you on the way to the dining hall.

“How are your feet?” he asked.

“Huh?”

“You were limping on the way back to the cabins earlier.”

“Oh…yeah just blisters.”

He tutted at you.

“Got to get you some good shoes soon.”

Dinner was the same hot dogs as the previous night with a bonus of a bowl of lettuce, cherry tomatoes and a slice of cucumber.

There was an excited energy in the room. Most people who’d snuck in alcohol or drugs said tonight was the best night to use it all. An unspoken competition of who could drink the most and still function when the first campers started to arrive. It could be fun, you mused. You were never a big partier in college and what was this if not a perfect chance to make up for that.

The boys built up a nice fire, each poking and prodding their own side with their favorite stick. You sat on one of the log benches next to Sophia and Janie. Johnny was across the fire, his arm around the waste of another girl counselor. Ceilidh you think it was. Pronounced like Kay-lee, she’d said. Pretty name, Gaelic. Made sense for him to go after a piece of home.

“Glad he’s finally left us alone.” Nat chuckled.

“I think they’re cute.” Sophia said. You pushed down the twinge of jealousy you felt seeing her giggle at his joke.

Warren came around with a cooler filled with a hodgepodge of beer. He was his fraternity’s president and one of his responsibilities was to get rid of any extra at the end of the term to avoid trouble. Dry campus issues.

You grabbed a Modelo. Ale’s old go to and one you’d gotten used to drinking. It left a familiar warm feeling in your stomach.

You drank, you danced, you ate s’mores, you laughed with your new friends. The stars seemed so bright and clear out here. Janie had you all lay out on your backs in the grass nearby as she pointed out each constellation.

“That’s the big dipper and above it is the little dipper but Draco is the constellation between them. If you guys tell me your star signs I can point it out for you.”

There was laughter nearby and you glanced up to see Johnny and Ceilidh sneaking in the dark towards her cabin.

You had another beer. And another. Maybe one more after that.

Someone offered you a hit off a joint so you did that too.

The four of you were laughing and stumbling back to Sophia’s cabin. You had no idea how late it was. The fire was dying out. Warren said he would make sure everyone got back inside all right. The designated driver of drunken counselors. He was a good guy.

You found yourself laying on your side on one of the empty beds. Sophia and Janie were on her bed, half asleep against each other. Nat and you were talking about your childhoods.

“I broke a bone three years in a row, each time in May. I missed field day every time. My mom once pulled me around in a wagon so I wouldn’t feel left out,” She laughed.

“How did you break so many bones?”

“Catholic school where the playground was just a parking lot. I was a wild kid. I broke my arm tripping and falling against the priest’s car. I dented it too. I thought I was going to hell.”

There was a shrill noise. Loud and stomach dropping. A scream cut off. You and the other girls all jumped to attention. It was silent except for the crackling of the fire outside.

“Fisher cat.” Janie said, trying to convince herself.

“Or a fox.” Sophia added.

“Did you guys hear that?” Warren said, coming in.

The four of you nodded.

“It sounded close. I’m gonna check it out.”

“By yourself?”

“One of the other guys is gonna come with me. It’s probably just an animal. If you see Johnny tell him to go check on everyone. I want a headcount before we all go to sleep.”

You all watched from the window as Warren met another guy holding a flashlight and a baseball bat. Sophia turned on the porch light. They disappeared between the cabin’s across the way.

“Johnny and Celilidh went off together. Should we try to find them?” Sophia offered.

“Maybe we should just stay here. Safety in numbers.” Janie answered.

“Safety from what? It was just an animal.” Nat insisted.

“Didn’t sound like an animal.” You thought. No one else would say it but you were all thinking it. A slide show of clips from horror films played through your mind.

Four sets of eyes darted around, looking out windows and the front door, waiting for some masked killer to seep through the walls.

Bang!

You all screamed as Johnny flew through the door, clutching his stomach.

“We have to go now!” He grunted. Blood was pouring between his fingers.

“Oh my god. What happened? Where’s Ceilidh?”

“Dead… fuck.. She’s fucking dead. Fucker came in through the window in the bathroom. I tried to fight him off. I’m sorry.” He gulped. “We have to go now!”

“You’re bleeding. Please let me look.” Janie reached out and he pushed her hand away.

“Don’t have time. We have to go. Get my car keys. I can fit us all.”

“What about everyone else?” You asked. There was so much blood, it was dripping on the floor now.

“I don’t know… when..when’s the last time you saw anyone?”

There was another scream from outside. Silence took you over again.

“Please… we can get out and get help but we have to go now.” Johnny pleaded. His bright blue eyes were watery and his tan skin was stained red down his legs.

“I’m going.” Sophia said, grabbing her backpack. “Fuck this. I’m not fucking dying like it’s a movie. We’re all going. Johnny, do you need help?”

“No, I can manage. I need to get my keys though.”

“I have mine. We can just take my car. It’s an SUV.” Sophia urged, crouching down to look out of the door.

“No…no…I…I uh…I have a gun in my car.”

“You brought a fucking gun to camp?” Nat’s jaw dropped.

“Old shotgun. It works. I’m trained for this. Get to the car and I… I can kill him.”

“You’re bleeding out, Johnny.” Janie cried, reaching for him again and once again being pushed away.

“Come with me.” Johnny looked at you.

“I…I…I don’t know.” You were shaking. It didn’t seem real. Too cliche. A real life spree killer running around the woods of a Summer camp. Sophia was right, you didn’t want to die like it was some movie.

“He knows I’m weak. He’ll go after me first. We’ll get my keys and if he shows up… you take them and run.”

“You..can’t sacrifice yourself.” Your voice warbled.

“It was my job to do that. If I can’t die saving my country, I’d like to die saving a group of pretty girls.”

Johnny was pleading. He seemed to know he couldn’t do it on his own. You thought about Ale saying you needed to stand up for yourself more. You never did. You didn’t stand up to bullies in high school, rogue professors in college or shitty demeaning bosses. You didn’t even stand up for yourself when Ale said he wanted a break.

Nat was saying how you should all just run to Sophia’s car. She had her keys. Sophia was agreeing. Janie was crying silently.

“I’ll go.” You forced the words out like vomit. It was that or actual vomit.

“Okay.” He almost smiled. “Sophia, turn off the lights. We’ll give you a signal when it's safe to come out. Then we all run to the parking lot.”

“What’s the signal?” Janie sobbed.

“I’ll whistle.”

You were shaking so much you worried you’d fall right down the front steps of the cabin. Johnny was in front of you, shoulders hunched up, his eyes darting everywhere. Sophia turned off the lights, leaving the two of you in near darkness. The fire was nothing more than orange smoldering logs.

“You seem like you’ve done this before.” You said quietly, finding yourself holding the bottom hem of his shirt.

“Like I said. It was my job.”

You walked on your tiptoes, trying not to make any noise. Your heart cried for the others. Even if you didn’t know them. You didn’t hear or see anyone. Maybe they all got out? They escaped already…or the killer was chasing them deeper into the woods.

You didn’t want to die. In the movies it always seemed so prolonged. The stabbings and bleeding out. Johnny had been hurt and he was still going on, trying to save you and everyone else.

“Stay here. I’ll go check to make sure it's clear.” He said. You’d made it to his cabin, whole body still shaking just on his porch now. Your heart leapt into your throat as the door creaked open.

“Be careful, please.”

He winked at you before heading in. You picked at the skin around your nails, a nasty old habit that you tried so hard to kick. You could forgive yourself for this relapse. It seemed an appropriate time to scratch out anxiety.

The step behind you creaked. Any light from the fire was blocked out. A arm wrapped around your neck and pulled you flush with a wall of muscle. You screamed for Johnny as a knife cut into your stomach.

It hurt worse than you thought it would. He was stabbing you over and over. All those movies and none prepared you for the sound that came from being stabbed yourself. The rush of blood in your head. You kicked and scratched the best you could, catching the gap of skin between his gloves and sleeves. Flesh caught under your nails and tore. The knife cut sideways across your stomach. Something wet and heavy hit the floor by your feet.

“Fucking cunt.” The man growled. You could have thrown up if it didn’t feel like your stomach had been torn open.

You hit the porch face first, no strength left to even try to hold yourself up. Blood pooled in your mouth. He stepped around you and in the corner of your eye you could make him out.

Large, well over six feet and bulky with large shoulders. A half skull mask covered the top part of his face. His head was buzzed. He had a hunting knife in his hand and it dripped your blood onto the wood and onto your face.

“Johnny!” Your killer called. You’d doomed him too. He could have gotten away. Johnny would die and it would be your fault. They all would now and it was your fault.

You closed your eyes as the throbbing subsided. You didn’t want to listen. He was so nice. He didn’t deserve it.

You didn’t deserve this.

You closed your eyes and let yourself slip away.

You heard music. Loud obnoxious music and singing from an off key baritone scot.

You opened your eyes and you were in your sleeping bag in your cabin. It was Sunday morning again.

Shout out to @ceilidho for being an inspiration to me to write darker fics and letting me use her name for a counselor.

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juneknight · 1 year

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Pleased to Please

The sequel (AKA Jake's Revenge) to Making Trouble.

About this: MK System/fem!reader, use of 'slut' as a term of endearment. An unnecessary amount of gloves. Jake Lockley.

You wake up to Marc pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum in pleasure, burrowing deeper into the covers, sleepy enough to miss what he says the first time he says it. His voice rumbles over you again, warm with mirth. His hands work the blanket away from your face, and he repeats himself again:

“I know it’s Sunday, but I have errands to run. Want to come with or stay in?”

You crack one eye open.

The two of you stand at the bus stop leaning against each other to make room for the others who crowd around for the same purpose. Someone jostles into you, and the look Marc gives them is cold—it makes strange butterflies unfold their wings in your belly. You lean in to press a kiss to his cheek, turning his focus back to you.

“What errands do you need to run?” you ask in his ear to make sure you are heard over the rumble of traffic.

“Swapping out supplies,” he says, explaining the duffle bag he has over one shoulder. “Boring stuff, but I’ll buy you coffee after.”

“Now you’re talking.”

The two of you shuffle your way onto the bus. He crowds you protectively, looping an arm around your waist to keep you close while his hand grips the bar to keep you both steady. You’ve gotten used to taking the bus after meeting Steven. Before him, you had walked or taken the tube, not the biggest fan of London drivers. Occasionally, you and Marc would go in on a cab together; you had never felt safe doing such a thing alone. And with Jake…

Your face flames. Leaning in to whisper in Marc’s ear again, you says: “It’s a shame we don’t have Jake’s car, isn’t it?”

Marc’s eyes go heavy-lidded, a smirk tugging up the corners of his mouth. He remembers as well as you do your activities in Jake’s car only days before. He glances towards the window of the bus—likely hearing some colorful commentary from the man in question—before turning his eyes back to yours.

“We’d just end up making more trouble in it, wouldn’t we?” he says back, letting his voice dip low under the guise of privacy, as if he doesn’t know what the timber of it does to you.

“You’re probably right,” you breathe back. “How much further ‘til our stop?”

“Not much. You’re already thinking about going back home aren’t you? Crawling back into bed?”

“As long as you join me.”

“My god, you two are better than television,” says the woman behind you both who has been clearly standing close enough to hear. You jump, startled by her sudden intrusion into your private conversation, embarrassment making your face burn hot. Thank god she had said something before the two of you really got going—

“Mind your business,” Marc says, uncharacteristically cold as he glares at the woman.

Middle-aged, clutching a recyclable tote in her arms, the woman looks like her first instinct is to argue back—perhaps something about how the two of you were making your business right there on a public bus—but the look on Marc’s face stops her words in her throat. She shuts her mouth with a click and nods, awkwardly trying to shuffle to a different spot on the bus to stand.

You frown up at Marc, but he smiles down at you like nothing is wrong. Reaching up, you lay the back of your hand against his forehead. “Are you feeling alright? You’re acting strange.”

It’s Marc’s turn to frown, his head tilting to one side, warm brown eyes roaming over your face.

“What do you mean?” he wonders But before you can answer, Marc glances forward and says: “Shit, this is us.”

He helps you press your way to the front and guides you two back out onto the dreary London street. You glance up at the building, frowning in thought.

“Storage units? Do you have a unit here?”

Marc just grins in answer, holding up a keyfob with the business’s logo on it.

The building is cool and quiet, sounds oddly muffled as you walk through the halls lined on either side with storage units. Occasionally you pass one with the door open, lock hanging loosely on the outside. You shiver. Places like this always make you feel odd, knowing how much history is here, each unit a snapshot of someone’s life. You cheer yourself with the thought that you’re about to see a snapshot of Marc’s.

When you arrive at unit #43, you bounce a little on your toes as Marc unlocks it and opens the door, a gentleman allowing you entrance first. But whatever you were expecting inside, you cannot help but be disappointed.

The unit is mostly empty, perhaps ten-by-ten. It is very utilitarian, with walls of alloyed metal shiny enough to see yourself in, even if your figure was a fraction distorted. A lightbulb hangs in the corner casting an unflattering fluorescent glow over the room. There are a series of storage totes, opaque to conceal their contents. A cot is in the corner, with a poor excuse for a pillow and a blanket folded with military precision.

“Do you sleep here sometimes?” you ask, baffled at the thought.

“I used to,” says Marc, going to the corner and setting his backpack down. He kneels, the zipper loud in the quiet of the unit. “It was a safe place, a place of my own, before Steven and I—reconciled.”

That makes you inexplicably sad, imagining Marc spending any length of time here, stretched out on a cot too short for him and listening to the hum of lights all night.

“That’s terrible,” you murmur.

Marc makes a sound in the back of his throat, derisive, clearly not feeling so maudlin about it. He says something, but you are too entranced by testing the cot, sitting heavily on its coarse fabric. It barely gives under your weight, unyielding and uncomfortable. At last you become aware of his gaze on you. You glance over to see him kneeling at his duffel bag, eyes glittering with some foreign emotion as he watches you.

“Sorry, what’d you say?” you ask.

“I said, Take your clothes off.”

You blink, unsure if you heard him properly. “What?”

“Do it slow,” he adds, his chin tipping down and the look in his eyes simmering into something condensed, something so heated that you can feel it from across the room the way you feel the heat of flames when standing too close to a fire. Shifting, he sits with his back against the wall, one leg outstretched. “I want a show.”

“I don’t—oh my god,” you whisper. “Jake? Has it been you this whole time?”

He runs a hand through his curls, pressing them back. The grin that settles on his mouth is so unlike Marc. At the beginning of your relationship, you had been so insecure that you would mix the boys up and potentially offend them, but you had quickly learned that such a thing was very unlikely. Each of their personalities was so unique, so distinct from the other: the way they stood (or slouched) the way they walked, the way they smiled and laughed—each of them had a million little tells, characteristics that set them apart.

“Don’t feel bad,” he says. His voice is a little flatter than Marc’s—less likely to fluctuate with emotion. It is softly accented; you know that he mostly prefers to speak Spanish. “I am very good at what I do.”

“You even took the bus—oh, Jake you hate the bus—”

He hums. “We’re walking home.”

“I just—why? I would have come with you anywhere.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“How can you say that?”

Jake looks up at you, brow cocked. From within the duffle bag, he removes his leather gloves and begins tugging them on. Those fucking gloves. Something about them makes your heart pound. The buttery softness of them, the scent of well-maintained authentic leather, the methodical,calculated way that he puts them on and takes them off. Or maybe it’s just the connotation that comes with them: that Jake is about to get his hands very, very dirty.

“Because you’re a good girl,” he croons. “If you had known Marc was taking you to my car, you wouldn’t have gone with him—just the same way you wouldn’t have come with me if you knew I was bringing you here for my revenge.”

“So this is Marc’s storage unit?” you breathe.

Jake nods slowly. He says: “You know what else I know?”

“What?”

“You’re such a good girl,” he says, voice soft, needing nearly no volume for the sound to carry to you just feet away, “You’re going to take your punishment without complaining. Because you know you deserve it, don’t you?”

“Jake,” you sigh shakily.

“Undress,” he says softly.

You stand up. Your knees are knocking together, you’re so full of adrenalin, hands shaking as you slip clothing item after item off. You fold them the way you know Jake likes you to, sitting them neatly on top of the stack of storage totes. As you turn, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the walls and it makes your face burn. Fuck, you hope that the helpful guy behind the desk out front doesn’t come to see what’s taking you both so long.

When your eyes find Jake again, you suck in a gasp. All the things you might have suspected he would have—the tripod wasn’t one. Sleek, it is simple but effective. He whistles a little beneath his breath as he fits Marc’s phone into it. When he realizes that you have stopped undressing, his whistling stops, lips puckered softly, dark eyes finding your own. Whatever expression you wear must delight him.

“Problem?”

“Come on, J,” you whisper, shifting on your socked feet. “Marc is going to be pissed enough, isn’t he? What do you plan to make him do, watch it in 3D?”

Jake points to the tripod, a look of near-comical innocence on his face. Some might not guess that Jake has the silliest humor of the three of them, sometimes bordering on cheesy or even slapstick. Demasiadas telenovelas, as he might say. “What, this? You think—? Oh, darling girl. This isn’t for Marc.

“The walls? Those are for Marc. Let him see the way I fuck you in every angle, I don’t care. But this? This is for me. I intend to remember this for a very long time,” he says, his words ending distractedly as he plays with Marc’s phone, getting the settings just right. He eyes your socks pointedly.

“It’s cold in here,” you gripe.

Jake snorts softly, but he doesn’t object. He stands and goes to you, gripping your bare shoulder gently and moving you a fraction this way—a hair that way. Into the best view of the camera, you realize. Being treated like some doll, stop-motion, only made to be bent and twisted into whatever shape pleases him has a surprising effect on you. Even as your thighs clench together tightly, you find yourself…bashful. Crossing your arms over your breasts, you shrink in on yourself.

“Qué es eso?” Jake wonders. He abandons the camera and comes to you. His presence is more comforting than intimidating the way some might imagine it to be. You lean your head against his chest and let his hands encircle your wrists, drawing them away from your chest. “Who is this shy woman? I remember the way you let Marc strip you naked with nothing but my tinted windows to protect your modesty.”

“You know how he gets,” you whine. “He uses that voice, that tone, and then I’m naked.”

“This voice?” he asks, mimicking Marc’s Chicagoan accent flawlessly. He slips into it the way you might slip into a comfortable shirt, familiar and well-worn. He leans back away from you a little to grip your chin firmly, to lift it up for his inspection. “This tone?”

It is. It really is. And as much as it makes your thighs clench, it drives you even wilder how easy it is for him. Jake is so fucking good at it, at pretending, at impersonating—his skill makes you swoon. It makes your heart pound. It makes your pussy wet.

Jake must sense this. Maybe he senses the ripple that seems to pass through you, or maybe he feels the goosebumps that rise on your arms. Either way, he laughs, soft and teasing, rumbling against where your bury your face in his chest.

He clicks his tongue at you until you look at him once more.

“I’ll play Marc for you another day,” he says, eyes growing steelier than the walls. “But right now—it’s me fucking you. I’m going to fuck my cock so deeply inside you that there won’t be any room for him. ¿Me entiendes?

“Now, lay on the cot. I’m hungry.”

Jake eats pussy masterfully, but true to character, he is a mess of contradictions. First he spreads your thighs wide, leather-clad thumbs finding your slippery outer folds to part you to his gaze. He lets go and leans in to suck and kiss at every part of you that isn’t your clit: sucking at your folds, tonguing your hole, kissing your thighs. He is clean shaven (like to keep up the charade of Marc), not a hint of painful stubble to chafe your sensitive pussy.

Jake leads with his tongue and lips, knowing how sensitive you are. For many long moments, he eats you without purpose, like he is giving you head just for the sake of it, no goalpost ahead to punt your orgasm through.

But then he becomes frantic, pressing his tongue as deeply into you as he can, sucking on your clit, dragging the flat of his teeth against your folds. He is lackadaisical and then frenzied, patient and then desperate.

The whole time, you have both hands over your mouth, nothing but the aborted gasps in your throat, the frantic breaths through your nose, and the wet, lurid sounds of Jake eating your pussy to fill up the quiet room.

When you get close, your heels dig into his back. He finally either gets bored with you or decides that he’s warmed you up enough. Your loud groan of protest has his eyes sharpening in a warning that makes you flush. He’s right, though. You have to be quiet.

Jake guides you into the next position he wants, and it’s almost unbearable: on your hands and knees, face towards the camera of Marc’s phone. Jake leaves you like that, on your hands and knees while he undresses slow and methodical, only the slightly warped imagine of him on the metal walls your visual..

Sometimes he says something, low and light and Spanish, before chuckling at whatever Marc’s response is.

“Is he mad?” You wonder, unsure what you want the answer to be.

“No,” Jake croons, kneeling behind you. He draws you up til you kneel, back pressed flush against his bare chest, cock hard between your thighs. In your ear, he says: “He is livid.”

“Jake,” you whine.

He clicks his tongue again. He holds up his hand in front of you, leather gloves still in place.

“Open your mouth.”

You open. Carefully, he has you tug the glove off with your teeth. He holds it while you do the same with the other. Then he makes you open your mouth so he can tuck the palms of his gloves between your teeth for you to hold.

“Drop those, and you’ll be punished,” Jake says, bare hands smoothing along your back, down your hips, finding your ass. He spanks you, once, hard. A warning that you feel all the way to your toes. “Leave a single mark from your teeth on my leather, and you’ll also be punished.”

You whine in dismay at this twist, trying to find the perfect balance between keeping the gloves in your mouth but not biting with enough force to leave a mark. Distracted by this, you miss whatever Jake says to his reflection, though his bright laugh at whatever its response is makes you shiver.

Gently, he urges you back onto your hands and knees. His cock nudges against the wetness between your legs. You make a desperate little sound, shifting, arching your back to offer his cock more contact with your pussy. The fire Jake had lit inside you with his mouth flares to life again, unsatisfied and aching.

“Can you take it?” Jake wonders, slipping and sliding along the seam of you, soaking his cock in your own arousal. “Or do you need my fingers to open you up?”

You try to answer him with the gloves, but the words are nothing but muted sounds. His cockhead, thick enough alone to be a pleasing stretch, presses at your entrance.

“What was that?” Jake wonders, cupping a hand to his ear.

No use in trying to tell him twice. Instead you press back, welcoming him into your body. Your eyes shut, and you nearly drop the gloves when your mouth craves to fall open and release a groan. It is by the skin of your teeth (pun intended) that you manage to keep the gloves in your mouth. You seethe with jealousy at the quiet but robust moan that Jake gives out, his fingers dimpling the skin of your hips with force as he grips you and pulls you back further and further on his cock.

“Impaciente,” he reprimands breathily. “Who is fucking who? Are you fucking me? Go ahead then. Fuck me.”

Jake lets go of your hips, crossing his arms contemplatively across his chest. You whine, leaning forward and then sinking back onto his cock. The throaty hum that Jake gives makes you shiver, pleased to be pleasing him. You begin an unsure rhythm, rocking on and off his cock.

For a while, it is enough for Jake. But then he takes your hips in his broad hands again.

“Do you need help? Here.” He gives a series of near-brutal thrusts, the sound of his balls slapping your cunt loud in the enclosed room. You choke on a groan, head falling forward and eyes screwing shut with pleasure—and then a burst of pain across your scalp has your eyes opening as Jake tugs your head up. Back to face the camera. “Head up. I want to see your pretty face. I want to watch you wreck yourself on my cock.”

He makes you go on like that for an endless amount of time. Eventually you find a rhythm, making sure not to turn your face away from the camera as you rock back against his thighs, taking his cock to the root again and again.

“Why do you look so sour?” You make a confused sound. Jake’s hand smooths across your flank. His other hand points. “Not you. Him. You’re putting on an amazing show for him, and he isn’t even appreciating it.”

All of the sudden, there is a distant bang. You freeze, Jake’s cock halfway buried inside you. Distantly–so distantly, you can hear the sound of approaching footsteps. Behind you, Jake’s body begins to shake with quiet laughs even as your own seems to seize with terror at the thought of being caught. The lock for the unit only hangs loosely, offering the two of you no privacy should someone decide to investigate the noise and open the door.

Jake draws you up, lowering himself onto his haunches as he tugs you back against his chest. In your ear, he murmurs: “Perhaps Marc is the only person we should give a show to. Oh—oh no? You’re shaking your head, but your cunt can’t lie to me. Not when I know her so well. If you don’t want anyone to see what a beautiful little slut you are, then you had best keep quiet.”

Keep quiet—simple, except that he reaches down between your legs, fingers tracing along your stretched entrance, and then dragging up over your sensitive, otherwise-ignored clit. Your body jerks, desperate to get away from the sudden stimulus and desperate to get closer all at once. You whine, the sound echoing off the walls and back to you. It takes all of your fortitude to press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and try to stifle any further noises.

Jake takes your clit between his fingers and rubs softly, purring into the nape of your neck at the way your pussy spasms around his cock. In the distance, the footsteps draw closer, the quiet murmur of voices heard. Can they hear you as well as you can hear them? Fuck, you imagine they can. Your orgasm, so far denied of you, swells low and sweet in your belly, and you dread it just as much as you ache for it—

All at once, a warmth fills you, Jake’s cock twitching where it is buried deep inside you. He groans so quietly against your skin, trailing off into a little breathless laugh. The feel of his spend filling you has your cunt clenching, approaching that edge. But before you can let yourself trip over the ledge and down into pleasure’s abyss, Jake’s fingers freeze.

Did you hear that? a voice asks. Your heart pounds, entire body flashing hot and then cold with panic. Jake’s hand reaches up and wraps around you throat, fingers flexing gently in warning. As if you need one!

Rats, probably. City’s got ones bigger than your cock—not that that’s saying much.

You make too many jokes about my cock for a bloke who's straight.

The voices begin to fade away. Jake’s fingers relax, stroking the line of your throat softly.

“Good girl,” he murmurs in your ear. “Very good girl, keeping quiet, fucking me so good. Did you cum?”

As if he doesn’t already know. You shake your head, slow and emphatic, gloves flapping softly against your cheeks.

“Do you want to cum?”

A nod.

“Roll over. On your back. Shh, shh—I know it’s cold.”

You lay there shivering, looking up at him, the taste of leather on your tongue. You’re nearly shaking with need, thighs spread so he can kneel between them. He’s cum, but his cock hardly looks softened, flush and dark between his legs. Jake grips his cock and strokes himself a few times, the muscles in his belly tensing. He is so fucking hot, you feel like if you laid here long enough looking up at him, you would cum.

With his other hand, Jake reaches for Marc’s phone. He works it softly off of the tripod and turns the screen to face you, lets you look at yourself in the front facing camera. Your hands cover your eyes at the brief glimpse you catch of yourself looking so fucked-out, thighs splattered with pearly seed, cunt swollen, nipples hard, those fucking gloves held between your teeth.

Jake laughs softly as he takes the camera and turns it the proper direction so that he can film you. “Hands down, what did I say? I said I want to see your pretty face.”

Two of his fingers, thick and strong, slip inside you. Your hands fall away from your eyes, mouth going slack enough that the gloves slip dangerously and you have to tighten your lips to keep from dropping them altogether. Jake’s grin behind the phone is downright sinful as he takes obvious, obscene pleasure in your struggle. His fingers squelch as he begins a moderate pace of fucking you with them.

“All you have to do is ask me, and I’ll make you cum.” He pauses to slip his fingers from you and drag the mess of yourself up over your sensitive clit, delighting in your whine and writhe. “So go ahead and ask real pretty. I’m all ears.”

You ask, words severely muffled around the gloves.

“I can’t understand,” he says, pointing the phone towards your pussy in a move that has tears filling your eyes with how tightly your cunt grips at his fingers. You didn’t know you liked being filmed so much—wouldn’t have imagined such a thing in a thousand years. “Keep asking. I like to hear you struggle. Say, ‘Please make me cum, Jake’.”

You’re desperate enough to keep trying, feeling the muscles in your belly tighten, though you desperately wish he would stroke your clit. You would cum nearly straight away, you are so close to the precipice. You repeat his words.

“Who? Did you say—Marc?”

Your eyes widen in panic, head shaking furiously. You repeat his name again and again, though he puckers his lips to look doubtful. He slips his fingers out of you again and you nearly wail, desperate for the release you have worked so hard to earn. But instead of taking his hands away, Jake takes your slippery clit between his fingers again, working the little pleasurable knot with dextrous, merciless skill.

You cum before you know you are cumming, back arching against the chilly floor, barely aware of Jake tugging the gloves from between your teeth to hear the way your voice grits out his name. He rubs and softly pinches your most sensitive flesh until you are whining and shaking and whispering for him to stop, it is too much, you are too sensitive.

He adjusts the camera to take in your entire expression: dilated, heavy-lidded eyes, mouth swollen and parted, tears clinging to your lashes.

“Good girl,” he says again, soundly absurdly pleased. He sets the phone down, using the free hand to smooth softly across your trembling belly as you are riddled with spasms and shivers in the aftermath of your release.

Then, a sound you dread, one you dread more than even footsteps or voices:

Jake clicks his tongue in displeasure.

Eyes wet and wide, voice raspy from your whines and cries, you ask, “What is it?”

His eyes flash up to you, smile spreading slow and dangerous across his face. It makes you shiver, makes your pussy clench. He holds up his glove, pointing. “What is that? Hm? There, denting the leather.”

A toothmark.

“Looks like you are due for that punishment after all.”

Gripping both gloves loosely in one hand, Jake brings them down to spank your clit.

I'm currently raising money to afford the emergency care provided to my perpetual-pup who passed away on 8/25. Please consider leaving a tip if you enjoyed this; every penny goes to him. Reblogs are invaluable. And come leave a request in my inbox, if you'd like.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader

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winchesterstorage · 5 months

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henrymorris1 · 11 months

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It's important to know how to organize and keep your storage unit clutter-free, whether you are moving or simply clearing out clutter. Log on to https://winchesterstorage.co.uk/storage-for-home/

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unitcarstorage43 · 1 year

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#long-term car storage service in London #car detailing in Surrey

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notchainedtotrauma · 7 months

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Word to Elmo, not only is genocide(s) the air that emanates from the surrounds, but so many people are sinking, suffocated and in various states of trauma. And they need help. So much help. And if you're here, with the bandwidth to bring relief here and there, especially if you're one of those that aren't at the brink, it's time to help. I mean it's always time to help but right the fuck now help is needed. Everyfucking where.

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V: tab-99

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#PSA #emergency help #urgent situation

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daisyvisions · 8 months

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Drive Me Crazy - (j.hn)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: inexperienced boyfriend!Hakyneon x experienced afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.5K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), pwp (minimal plot) me thinks, car sex, mentions of fingering, dry humping, blowjobs, oral (f! receiving). Handjob, unprotected sex (with multiple creampies), lots of making out and kissing, a lot of curse words (sorry), pet names (sweetheart, baby), virginity loss

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Original idea was loosely inspired by an actual experience I had (but took the liberty of making it smuttier hehe 😈) Dedicating this one to you @winterchimez / @midnightfantasiez. Proofread once.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

“Fuck, are you sure about this?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything else in my life-”

You pant into his mouth as you take a breather from making out for god knows how long. It’s been over eight months since you and Haknyeon have officially started dating and safe to say, it was like you two were still in some wild honeymoon phase.

Every chance you found yourselves alone together, you two wasted no time being in each other’s arms and letting out all the pent up tension you had on one another. Sneaking off into storage closets to make out, held back moans as he fingered you in bathrooms, and now? Dry humping the hell out of each other at the back of his car.

And all you had to do was give him one look across the room of this birthday party and he knew what you wanted. It’s those damn eyes, he smirks to himself before subtly motioning you to meet him outside.

It must’ve been the alcohol and the way he looked tonight because all you were thinking about as soon as he picked you up was to get him alone and finally ride him into sunrise.

You hastily got off his lap and flipped your hair to the side, hands eagerly finding their way to his crotch and trying to unbuckle his belt as fast as you could.

You could practically feel yourself salivating seeing his hard on tenting beneath his jeans. As you’re about to unzip his pants, he holds your wrists and stops you from going any further.

“W-wait-” He stutters.

“Ugh, Hak… again?” You let out a frustrated sigh.

This wouldn’t be the first time he stopped you from touching him despite allowing him to freely touch any part of your body. At first, you thought he wanted to take things slow, especially after you confessed to him that you have never been in a slow-paced relationship.

Every guy you’ve been with always wanted to get in your pants immediately and not enjoy the subtle touches and slow kisses here and there of a new relationship. So when Haknyeon asked you to be his girlfriend he promised you that he would give that to you.

But you didn't know he would take the term “slow” that seriously.

Yes, a relationship shouldn’t just be based on the sexual aspect, you knew that. You would still love Haknyeon even if he turned into a small little worm. But you’re just a girl after all. A girl with needs. You were horny as hell… and fingers and pussy eating were not going to make you last long.

You wanted his dick and you wanted it now.

“I don’t understand-” You pull away from him. “Is it me? Am I too much for you? Am I not attractive enough?” You started to feel a slight pain in your chest on the latter thought.

“No! No. You’re practically a goddess-”

“Then why don’t you want me to touch you then?” You pout. “I’m sorry Hak, I know we wanted to take things slow-” You huff out air you’ve been keeping in your lungs. “But- it’s not fair.”

“Not fair? What do you mean?” He looks at you with worried eyes.

“You get to touch me but I don’t get to touch you! Is there something wrong?” You patiently wait for his answer as Haknyeon closes his eyes and lets out a big sigh.

“You might laugh at me…” He could feel his cheeks warming up by the second.

“I've… I’ve never done this before…” He glances at you quickly before looking back at his hands.

“What do you mean you’ve never done this before?” Your eyebrows raise.

“I’ve never had sex okay? There I said it!” He exclaims, widened eyes looking back at you, waiting for your reaction.

“But, I’ve given you head before-”

“Yeah and I nearly came within the first thirty seconds. Had to breathe in deeply and bite my lip so you wouldn’t notice at all.” He looks down at his hands again, feeling ashamed.

“You probably think I’m a loser right now-”

“Hak- look at me.” You cup his face in your hands, leaning in to give him a kiss.

“That doesn’t matter to me. I just want to be with you, to feel you-” You kiss him again, but this time slipping in your tongue as Haknyeon lets out a tiny whimper.

“Would you let me feel you?” You whisper into his mouth. He hesitates for a moment, but as soon as he looks deep into your eyes he let go of his fear.

“Fuck- Please do…” He grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap once again, kissing your lips before leaning down to suck the sensitive skin on your neck.

You moan at his plump lips leaving their marks on you as your hands traveling from the back of his neck all the way down to finally unzip his jeans, freeing his aching cock from its confinements.

He suddenly stops kissing your neck and pulls away as you palm his erection, almost grabbing your wrists again out of impulse but you bring your hand to his cheek and caress him with your thumb.

“Shh It’s okay. Let me take care of you.” You slide your hand down his boxers, pulling out his member as you wrap your fingers around the warm skin.

Haknyeon hisses in pleasure, trying not to burst any second from how you’re slowly jerking him off. You smear his oozing precum around his length, gradually increasing the speed of your wrists as you kiss his neck.

“F-feels so good-” Haknyeon moans against your ear.

“Yeah? You think you can handle more?” you mumble against his neck.

“Please- I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep this up.” He feels you smirk against his skin as you stop your hand from fisting his length.

You lift your hips up and adjust your position as you pull your panties to the side, rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds before aligning it to your wet entrance and slowly sinking down.

“Fuck fuck fuck- wait a second.” Haknyeon whines out.

“What’s wrong?” You bite your lower lip, trying to hide your amusement at how he’s reacting.

“You’re really wet.” He closes his eyes and breathes in deeply.

“Well… that’s what you do to me.” You lean in to whisper in his ear.

Without warning you start to roll your hips, He deep groan comes out of his mouth as he tightens his grip on your waist.

“Oh that’s it, holy shit…” He moans as he guides your hips, “C’mere-”

He kisses you with much fervor as he gradually pulls your hips faster until you’re practically bouncing on his cock. You whimper against his mouth as you feel his thick length dragging within your velvety walls, finally feeling full inside because of him.

“Sweetheart t-think I’m gonna cu-oh!” His member twitches inside you.

“Give it to me baby, inside!” You try to bounce faster but Haknyeon suddenly wraps his arms around your waist, thrusting up quickly inside you like an animal in heat.

You feel a gush of warm fluid exploding inside you as he lets out grunting sounds. You think he’d stop at this point but he just keeps on thrusting into you, feeling his cum spilling out while the tip of his cock nudges that sweet spot deep within.

“Gonna- ah!” You shout, feeling your walls tighten as Haknyeon doesn't stop fucking up into you.

“C’mon, cum on me sweetheart. Can practically feel your walls choking my dick.” He groans into your mouth.

“Oh fuck, think I’m gonna cum again-”

“Cum with me Hak, please!” As soon as you utter those last words, he’s bursting inside of you once again. His load just as heavy as the last. You also reach your high at the same time, feeling yourself gush onto his member while seeing stars. You’re both moaning and panting into each other’s mouths. Kissing each other as if it was your only source of oxygen.

As you’re about to get off of him, he holds your hips down.

“C-can we uh… go again?” He shyly asks.

“You mean now?!” You gasp at the feeling of his member still hard and twitching inside you.

“Yeah…” You could practically see his cheeks turning red from asking. You let out a chuckle before kissing his forehead.

“Just, give me a moment okay?” You rest your head on his shoulder, keeping his cock plugged inside you til you’re ready to go again.

And boy, did you two go at it for hours and hours til the sun started to rise.

#deoboyznet #haknyeon smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #the boyz hard hours #tbz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #tbz drabbles #the boyz scenarios #ju haknyeon smut #kpop smut #tbz hard hours

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carsthatnevermadeitetc · 2 years

Text

Hudson Commodore 6 Coupe Automatic, 1952. A rare example of Hudson's flagship coupe is for sale in Europe. The car is claimed to have had fifty years of family ownership in California before being exported into long term storage. It is in need of restoration and recommissioning. The Commodore was designed by Betty Thatcher, the first female designer employed by a car manufacturer. Recorded milage is 51,983 Miles, it is offered for €18,000.

sales listing

#Hudson #Hudson Commodore #Hudson Commodore 6 Coupe #cars for sale #dead brands #classic car #low milage #straight 6 #Betty Thatcher #flagship

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boldlyvoid · 9 months

Text

December 16th, 1986

Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: It took 8 months, but Steve's parents finally sold their house... and Steve has no idea where he's going to live now.

Warnings: drug use, mutual pining, first kisses, getting together, moving in together, Wayne and Mr. Clark are dating in this

Word Count: 2.5k

For the past 8 months, Steve has been getting ready for this moment.

His parents announced pretty soon after the earthquake that they would be moving. They put the house up for sale, they packed their things and they left… they said he could stay there till it sold, make sure that the Realtor showed the house off right and answer any questions that the potential buyers have. He answered things that he shouldn’t have, he told lies, he made the house seem haunted and he prolonged living there as long as he could until another rich family decided they’d take it no matter what.

His last day to live in his childhood home is December 16th. He has 2 weeks to pack, find an apartment and start living life on his own terms. His parents “helped” the best way they knew how. With a check for $1000 as a thank you for looking after the place until now and words of support… those words being “We know you can do it, and if not, here’s our new address.”

Robin offered to let him stay with her but without her mom knowing because she already thinks they’re dating in secret and that wouldn’t help. He can’t ask Nancy for help cause she’s in Boston— Jonathan might be willing to help but since their breakup… he’s not really hanging out with anyone much. Dustin's mom has made it clear he can stay over whenever he wants but he’d have to sleep on the couch in the living room and there wouldn't be much privacy.

The 4 apartments downtown are taken currently, they won’t be available for god-knows how long and he can’t afford to buy a house of his own… his job sucks, and he’s worried he won’t even be there much longer once Robin goes off to college cause Keith hates him, so he should be looking for both a new job and a place to live.

It all comes tumbling out of him after a joint and a beer while lying on the carpet in Eddie’s room.

“Dude,” Eddie stops him mid-ramble. “You can stay here.”

“Where?”

“Here,” Eddie waves around. “In my room, with me, for as long as you need.”

He laughs as he sits up, “Yeah I can see it now, my race car poster can go there. My trophies will sit in a box over there on the floor and after I organize your closet for the first time like, ever, I’ll put my clothes in there.”

“I mean, I think the race car would look better over there,” Eddie points to the one blank spot on his wall with a smirk. “I’m completely serious, Stevie, you can stay here. Wayne won’t mind.”

He just sighs, “I mean, I think I can store all my things in Dustin's weird bomb shelter storage thing—

“Wait, what?” Eddie cuts him off. “He has a bomb shelter?”

“I don’t know it’s like not connected to his house and it’s in the backyard and it’s underground and all concrete,” Steve explains. “But they just keep his mom's homemade stuff down there like she pickles shit and makes jam, so... I could keep some boxes down there and just bring the important things here.”

“See, that sounds like a great plan,” Eddie cheers him on.

“But…” he doesn’t know how to ask.

“What?”

He sighs, “where am I going to sleep?”

“Here,” Eddie says like it’s no big deal, pointing down at his bed. “It’s not like you haven’t slept here before.”

“Yeah, but, every night, for-for I don’t know how long?” Steve worries, “You’d seriously be okay with that?”

Eddie nods, “I mean, we sleep pretty good when we’re together…”

Steve sighs, he’s right. No nightmares, no night sweats, no morning headaches, notate night anxiety attacks— and that’s just all the stuff on his end. Eddie hasn’t been on a regular sleep schedule like this since he was a toddler, sleeping from midnight to 9am every time they’re together, he’s more productive and he’s happier and they really love sleeping together... It just feels right.

“Don’t-don’t take this the wrong way, but-but—

“Oh no,” Eddie worries right away.

“No, no, it’s a good thing I promise,” Steve assures. “I just wanted to say I… I love you, man. You’re a wonderful person and you take such good care of all your friends and-and don’t tell Robin but you’re one of the best people in my life and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Eddie tries to make a joke response but his mouth just opens and closes and he shakes his head in disbelief, “You do?”

Steve nods, “I really do. Thank you… for everything.”

Eddie gets off his bed and crowds Steve on the floor, wrapping him up in such a powerful hug they end up lying down with Eddie on top of him, “I love you too, Stevie.”

They’re like that for well over a minute, but with the weed in their system, it might’ve been even longer than that. They end up cuddled on the floor, Eddie’s face in Steve’s neck, Steve’s fingers tracing shapes on Eddie's back, the two of them silent and content and oddly comfortable.

They cuddle often. This is how they fall asleep. After long chats about all sorts of things: work, bad dads, evil teachers, stupid ex-friends, relationships that went south... You name it, they’ve talked about it. It started one night after he drove Robin home from work, she had a headache and just wanted to sleep and he needed someone to talk to— somehow he ended up parked in front of Eddie’s trailer before he could even register how he got there and Eddie was coming outside to make sure he was okay. He wasn’t. But he’s been okay since then, since knowing he has another safe space with someone who cares about him.

Now he knows that someone loves him… and Steve loves him right back. Maybe more than how he loves Robin or Dustin. Maybe he loves him more like he loved Nancy? This did feel an awfully lot like when he cuddled with her, only, they did this after sex… completely naked, cuddled up for 10-20 minutes before he had to get her home for her curfew, but he soaked it all in. It was his favourite part of the whole thing.

And now he has it again, just in a different form. In a different shape… an Eddie shape that’s even warmer and heavier and smells like home and doesn’t have to leave after a few minutes. And when Eddie said he loved him back, it was real. It was sincere. It was everything he wanted.

He rests his cheek against the top of Eddie’s head for a moment, lets out a sigh from all his thoughts and then he does it. He kisses the top of Eddie's head and squeezes him tighter. And to his surprise, Eddie kisses him right back. His lips touch Steve’s neck and they stay there, again and again, he kisses him until he’s straddling Steve’s hips and his lips meet his jaw and Steve stops breathing.

His eyes blown wide, his hands fallen to his sides, he’s frozen. Eddie notices and pulls back, he cups Steve’s jaw and stares at him, “hey… I’m sorry, I can—

Steve doesn’t let him finish, he simply grips his t-shirt and pulls him down into a real kiss. Lips pressed firmly together, eyes squeezed shut— on his end, at least. It’s not Eddie's turn to be shocked still. Steve holds him there for a moment and then releases, noticing Eddie’s now frozen as he opens his eyes. He laughs, finding him so un-godly cute, “Sorry…”

“No, no, don’t apologize,” Eddie says in a mere whisper, still dumbfounded that that really happened. But he comes back to reality, he stares at Steve’s lips and then back up to his eyes, “Kiss me whenever you'd like, pretty boy.”

Steve sits up with Eddie still in his lap, chest to chest now, he cups Eddie’s face, “same goes for you, handsome.”

So, Eddie kisses him this time, sweet and gentile and everything Steve’s ever wanted. It’s slow and sweet, and his lips are soft, Eddie wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Steves is the first one to initiate more, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip, Eddie almost moans as he lets him in.

Steve's hand slips from his cheek, down his neck and rests on his chest before he wraps his arms around Eddie’s middle and tugs him in even closer. He’s never had a kiss that feels like this: there’s love and passion and a familiarity that feels like they’ve kissed a million times before.

He’s not sure how long they kiss, but it feels like hours.

Glorious, fantastic, and magical hours that he never wants to end.

When Eddie finally pulls away he doesn’t look too happy— which worries Steve. “I love this, but I’ve gotta piss so goddamn bad, dude.”

Steve laughs, “Go, go pee and then we can continue this in the bed, my ass is going numb.”

Eddie steals one last kiss, “Okay, I’ll be right back. Might get some snacks too… the munchies are kicking in.”

And then he’s gone, leaving Steve alone in his room… he reaches over for the walkie-talkie on Eddie’s bedside table, pulls out the antenna and changes the frequency to the one he and Robin use. It’s late, she’s probably asleep, but he’s allowed to wake her up when he needs her.

“Rob? Robin? Are you up?”

He waits a moment and then he hears it, she groans, “What?”

“It happened.”

“You’re gonna have to be more descriptive, dingus,” she bullies him. “And speak up, where are you?”

“I’m at Eddie's, he’s gonna be back in a second but… but we kissed. It happened, Rob.”

“Do you want a parade? Some gay confetti cake?” She teases, tired and not in the mood but he can hear her slight smile.

“No, I just wanted to tell you,” he smiles like an idiot on his end. “And I told him I love him, so there’s that…”

“Congrats, you kissed the same sex before I did— can I please go back to bed now?” She begs.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ll see yo tomorrow,” he lets her go. “Night, rob.”

“Night, dingus,” he says back and then the line goes dead. She’s turned it off completely.

He flops back to the bed with the walkie pressed to his chest and the most shit-eating grin plastered to his face. He’s never felt so happy in his life. And Eddie sees it. He leans against the doorway, bag of chips in hand, just smiling back at him.

“You know, I always wondered what my dad meant when he said I was more like Wayne than anyone else in their family, that I had to be a Munson like my mom said because I’m his twin…” Eddie explains and Steve sits right up, nervous that he was caught.

“What?”

“Wayne’s had the same boyfriend since I was like 14,” he explains. “They see each other in the mornings when he’s coming home and his lovers getting ready for work. He brings him coffee, they get a few minutes to just chat and then he'd come back here to make sure I was ready for the bus… and I didn’t know he was his boyfriend for a long time. I actually didn’t know for sure until we were in the hospital, and Scott was there, holding Wayne’s hand.”

“Wait, that’s why Mr. Clarke was always around?” Steve can’t believe it. “I knew they were friends but… oh my god?”

Eddie makes his way to the bed and nods, “They’ve been together for a while. And happily. If it wouldn’t fuck with his job, they’d be living together… he has a second room in his house so they’ve been thinking about pretending to be roommates but, I don’t know who’d buy that.”

“I would’ve,” Steve assures him. “Believe me, that is not the first thing I think of when I see two older dudes hanging out.”

“And if Wayne moves in with him… then I get the trailer,” Eddie explains. “And there’d be more room for your things… and you’d never have to leave…”

“Oh,” Steve’s heart swells. “You’d want that?”

Eddie nods again, “I want you for as long as I can have you.”

“How does forever sound?” Steve teases, wanting that too.

“Perfect,” he agrees before lunging at him for another kiss.

—

When December 16th rolls around, Steve has all his things packed, they load it all into Eddie’s van and keep the non-essential things at Dustins in his cellar. It’s a relatively easy move, the hardest part was organizing Eddie’s closet so Steve’s things could fit in there. He convinces Eddie to donate some things, but by “donate” he meant put shit in a box and give it to Mike.

And Wayne’s home that day too, he doesn’t go back to work until 8pm which means that he can make them dinner. He’s s happy to have Steve around, slightly because he’s loved Steve ever since he dragged Eddie out of hell and to a hospital— but mostly because Eddie loves him. They’re a little family.

And, speaking of family: Scott comes over too.

The 4 men sit around a little table and chat and laugh and celebrate the start of something new. Something beautiful. New love, but more specifically, Gay love.

“Um,” Steve starts to speak when the conversation starts to lull. “Do you guys know any other lesbians in the area?”

They nod, “Yeah, we do, why?” Wayne asks.

“My best friend thinks she’s the only lesbian in the whole town and I thought maybe we could have like a gay New Year's party or something so she would feel less alone?”

“Does she have a fake ID?” Eddie asks and Scott glares at him. “What? Candace and Sharon literally run a gay bar in Indy, we could just go there all together.”

“You guys can go,” Scott waves his hands. “I am not going to a club at my big age. I am long past finding that fun.”

“Robin would love to go,” Steve announces for her. “We’ll find her something to use.”

“Candy isn’t above sneaking someone in,” Wayne teases. “You guys will have a blast.”

“Can I just say thanks again for letting me stay here?” Steve asks, feeling a little emotional with how amazing this is all turning out to be.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Wayne waves it off.

“You could’ve even moved in with me, or just kept your things at my place,” Scott offers. “Any kid of Waynes is a kid of mine.”

He gets a little choked up, unsure of what to say, he just smiles. “Thank you,” is all he can muster.

Going from having 1 dad who didn’t even care to call him on his birthday to having Eddie’s 2 dads who’d do anything for him, thanks to Eddie is just too much to handle right away. But he’ll get used to it.

This is his family now.

They’ll have to do this every year now; a big dinner on the 16th of December every year to celebrate coming home.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

Steddie

@nosaladallowed-ao3 @wifeyreid @girl-with-an-orange-cat @sunshinemunchkin @luna-munson83 @manda-panda-monium @steve-thehair-mamabear

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #clarkson

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