#They heat up something crazy in direct sunlight

[iamfuckingsorry]

ah here we go again

2 am, the hottest and brightest my room gets :))

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

I thought something about Marcus Acacius. He throws a party as a king where he calls some servants from the palace to dance for him, 4 girls, one of whom is the lucky one. The girl drives Marcus crazy with her movements and her gaze. And at the end of the dance when she collapses at his feet he gives her a handkerchief meaning she is called to have fun together in the bedroom. Before all that, for context, said servant is seen by Marcus in his room cleaning it, she being very shy and fragile in front of him. Since then, there has been an attraction between the two. pleaseeeeee😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

𝓟𝓞𝓦𝓔𝓡

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Maid!F!reader | WC : 4.8k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN

Summary: The moment Marcus saw you, he knew you had to be his.

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (Exploitation) SMUT, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Implied age gap, Slight Voyeurism, Spitting, misogyny, cream pie, Oral

A/n: Okay, so I might make this a series. You'll see why ;)

The grand chamber of Marcus’s quarters stood in hushed elegance, the soft rustle of fabric and faint sounds of cleaning the only disturbances. You worked alongside Zera, the other maid, the sunlight filtering through ornate windows casting intricate patterns on the polished wooden floor. The scent of fresh linens mingled with the lingering hint of Marcus’s cologne, an omnipresent reminder of the man you served.

As you meticulously dusted the shelves, each deliberate movement betraying your nerves, you couldn't shake the unease. This was your first time in Marcus’s private quarters, and the stories you had heard about him made your hands tremble ever so slightly. Zera noticed your apprehension and gave you a reassuring smile, her experienced hands moving deftly over the surfaces, silently guiding you through the task.

Just as you smoothed the last crease on the bedspread, a sound behind you made your heart skip a beat—a throat clearing. You froze, breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned to face the source.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his presence commanding and intimidating. Tall, with a chiseled jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you, his dark hair impeccably styled, he exuded an air of authority that made your pulse quicken.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said, his voice smooth and authoritative. Zera immediately curtsied, and you followed suit, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Good afternoon, sir," you both murmured in unison.

He stepped further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the immaculate space. "I see you've been thorough," he remarked, a hint of approval in his tone. You dared a glance up and saw him looking directly at you. "What's your name?" he asked, his eyes holding yours captive.

"I-I'm..." you stammered, feeling incredibly small under his intense scrutiny. You gave him your name.

He repeated it, as if savoring the sound. "And what do you do here?"

"I'm a maid, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I help with cleaning and maintaining the household."

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he said. "I appreciate diligence and dedication. Keep up the good work."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment as he turned his attention to Zera, giving her a few more instructions. But then, unexpectedly, his gaze returned to you. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you," he said, his voice low and enigmatic.

Marcus then looked back to Zera. "Zera, how long has she been with us?" he asked, nodding in your direction.

Zera straightened up, her expression respectful but relaxed. "She's been with us for a few months now, sir. She's a quick learner and very diligent."

"I see," Marcus replied, his eyes flicking back to you. There was something in his gaze that made your pulse quicken—a mixture of curiosity and something more that you couldn't quite place.

He turned his full attention to you again. "There’s a gathering this evening," he said. "A small party. I hope to see you there."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me, sir?" you asked, hardly believing what you had just heard.

"Yes, you," he confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'd like to get to know all the members of my household better."

Before you could muster a response, Marcus nodded once more, then turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there, still processing the encounter, the electricity of his presence lingering in the air. Zera nudged you gently, a knowing smile on her face. "Looks like you've made an impression," she said softly.

Zera led you out into the corridor where two other maids, Lara and Anya, were waiting. They exchanged curious glances, having overheard part of the conversation.

"Did he just invite you to the party tonight?" Lara asked, eyes wide with excitement.

You nodded, still in a daze. "Yes, he did."

Anya clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful! You should feel honored. These parties are very exclusive."

You looked at them, puzzled. "What exactly happens at these parties?"

Zera smiled warmly. "It's a small, private gathering. Usually, it's just Marcus and a few close friends. Only four maids are selected to attend, and it's considered a great honor."

Lara added, "You'll be there to serve, but also to... entertain. It's a chance to be close to him, to get special attention."

Lara chuckled softly. "Remember the time he invited me to one of these parties? I was so nervous, but he was incredibly kind and made sure I was comfortable. He even gifted me a beautiful necklace afterward."

Anya nodded, her eyes dreamy. "I've attended twice. The first time, I was too shy to speak much, but the second time, I felt more at ease. Marcus has a way of making you feel like you're the only one in the room. He listens, really listens, and his attention is... intoxicating."

Zera's smile widened as she added her own experience. "When I was chosen, I was scared out of my wits. But Marcus was patient, always checking if I was okay. He even taught me how to dance that night. It felt like a fairy tale. And the privileges afterward were amazing—new clothes, better quarters, and a sense of being valued."

You listened, a mix of nerves and anticipation swirling within you. The way they spoke of Marcus, with such admiration and fondness, made your heart beat faster. The night ahead seemed both daunting and exciting.

Anya squeezed your hand gently. "You'll do great. Just remember, it's not just about serving him—it's about being present, enjoying the moment, and letting him see who you are."

Lara's eyes twinkled with excitement. "And who knows? Maybe you'll receive a beautiful gift too. He has a knack for choosing the perfect ones."

Zera's expression softened. "Just be yourself, and remember, we're here for you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always come to us."

The anticipation hung thick in the air as the evening settled over Marcus’s grand estate. You joined the other four maids in the lavish hall, your nerves simmering beneath a façade of calm. Each of them was strikingly beautiful, their confidence making your insecurities rise. You felt like a shadow amidst their brilliance, the thought of standing among them in Marcus’s eyes filling you with a sense of inadequacy.

But Zera’s words echoed in your mind—just be yourself. With a deep breath, you resolved to do just that, hoping it would be enough.

The party began, an intimate gathering with Marcus at the center, surrounded by a few of his close friends. The maids, including you, served drinks and delicacies, moving gracefully around the room. You kept to the side for most of the night, watching the lively conversation and laughter. Marcus’s presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in, his every word and gesture commanding attention.

You were busy refilling a guest's glass when Marcus’s gaze landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat as he smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a thrill down your spine. He beckoned you over with a casual wave of his hand.

You approached him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yes, sir?" you asked, your voice steady despite your racing pulse.

"Enjoying the evening?" he inquired, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

"It's... lovely, sir," you replied, struggling to maintain your composure under his piercing gaze.

"Good," he said, his tone teasing. "I noticed you've been hiding in the shadows. Afraid to join the festivities?"

A smile tugged at your lips. "I didn't want to intrude, sir."

"Nonsense," he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A beauty like you should never be in the background."

Your breath hitched at his words, the compliment washing over you like a warm wave. "Thank you, sir."

Marcus's gaze held yours, his eyes darkening with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "Tell me," he continued, leaning in closer, "do you enjoy dancing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Yes, sir."

A wicked smile curved his lips. "Good. I think it's time for some entertainment."

He turned to the room, his voice commanding as he addressed the guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it's time for a dance."

The other maids gathered, their faces lighting up with excitement. Marcus's eyes flicked back to you, a challenge in his gaze. "Join us, won’t you?" he asked, though it was more of a command than a question.

You stepped forward, joining the other maids. The music began, a sultry melody filling the air. You moved in sync with the others, your body swaying to the rhythm, feeling Marcus's eyes on you the entire time.

As you danced, you felt a heady mix of nerves and exhilaration. The other maids were graceful, their movements confident and fluid. But you, despite your initial hesitance, found yourself lost in the music, your body moving instinctively, your eyes occasionally meeting Marcus's intense gaze.

The dance ended with a flourish, and the room erupted in applause. You stood there, breathless, your heart racing. Marcus's eyes never left you, a slow smile spreading across his face as he approached.

"Well done," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You have a natural grace."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Marcus's smile deepened, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, an intricate design of fine fabric. With a slow, deliberate movement, he offered it to you.

"For you," he said, his voice a mix of command and tenderness. "A small token of my appreciation."

You took the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The touch sent a jolt through you, and you could feel the eyes of the other guests on you, but all you could focus on was Marcus. "Thank you, sir," you said again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Keep it close. Tonight, after the guests have left, you will be summoned to my quarters. There are things we need to discuss."

Your heart raced at his words, the implication sending a thrill through you. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside you.

He straightened, his eyes still holding yours for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the party. "Enjoy the rest of the evening," he said, his tone returning to its earlier casualness.

You nodded, clutching the handkerchief tightly in your hand, the delicate fabric a reminder of what was to come. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of your impending meeting with Marcus. The other maids occasionally glanced your way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and envy.

Later, in the dim light of the maids’ quarters, you sat with your heart pounding, the evening’s events replaying in your mind. Zera and the others had already retired for the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling. Just as you began to wonder if you had misunderstood Marcus’s invitation, there was a knock on the door. You jumped, your heart leaping into your throat. You opened the door to find one of Marcus’s guards standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Marcus has requested your presence," he said simply.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

The guard led you through the winding corridors of the grand estate, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Your mind raced with possibilities, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you.

When you reached Marcus’s quarters, the guard stepped aside, allowing you to knock softly on the door.

"Enter," came Marcus's voice from within, smooth and commanding.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The warmth of the room and the familiar scent of Marcus’s cologne enveloped you. He stood by a table, a decanter and two glasses set upon it. His silhouette was framed by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting an ethereal glow around him.

"Close the door behind you," he instructed, his voice low and inviting.

You did as he asked, the soft click of the door closing sounding like a prelude to something monumental. Your heart raced as you stood there, feeling both vulnerable and empowered under his intense gaze.

"Come, sit," Marcus said, gesturing to a chair near the table.

You walked over, your steps measured and deliberate, and sat down. Marcus poured a rich, amber liquid into one of the glasses, then handed it to you.

"Drink," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You took the glass, the coolness of the glass contrasting with the warmth of your fingers. You brought it to your lips, the liquid smooth and heady as it slid down your throat. The warmth spread through you, calming your nerves.

Marcus poured himself a glass and took a sip, his eyes still locked on you. "I’ve noticed you," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "You have a quiet grace about you, a determination."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

"Tell me about yourself," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. "How did you come to work here?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I came from a small village," you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. "I wanted to find a better life, to serve in a household like yours."

Marcus nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. "And what have you found here?"

"Opportunity," you replied honestly. "A chance to learn, to grow. The work is hard, but it’s rewarding."

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "I admire your honesty," he said. "And your dedication."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "You’ve done well tonight," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I’d like to reward you."

Your breath hitched at his words, the promise in his tone making your heart race. "Thank you, sir," you managed to say, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Marcus's hand lingered on yours, his touch gentle yet commanding. "Do you enjoy serving me?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed.

"Yes, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

He smiled, a slow, seductive smile that made your pulse quicken. "Good," he murmured. "Because I enjoy having you here."

He stood, his hand slipping from yours as he moved to stand behind you. You felt his presence, the heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his cologne. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want to see more of you, to know you better."

Your heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling within you. The reality of the situation settled in—you were not just any maid; you were standing before Marcus, your employer, a man whose power and authority were absolute. The need to impress him, to prove your worth, weighed heavily on you.

Marcus's hands rested lightly on your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He slowly slid your tunic down, exposing your shoulders to the cool night air. His fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "And so very intriguing."

You shivered at his words, your nerves mingling with a growing desire. "Thank you, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned you to face him, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed over you. "You seem nervous," he observed, his voice soft but commanding.

"I... I want to please you, sir," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and honesty.

Marcus's smile was slow and predatory, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "And you will," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "But there's no need to be nervous. I already see something special in you."

He moved closer, his hands trailing down your arms, sending a shiver through you. "Relax," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tonight is about discovery."

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, his presence overwhelming yet thrilling. You felt his hands slide down your back, pulling you closer to him. The proximity made you acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat.

Marcus's lips traced the curve of your neck, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a tantalizing whisper, "what do you desire?"

The question caught you off guard, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. "I... I want to be valued, sir," you confessed, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "I want to be seen."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "You are valued," he said, his voice firm but tender. "And you are seen."

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a whirlwind of desire and emotion. His kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body, exploring, claiming.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire. "You have a fire within you," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "A fire I intend to stoke."

His words sent a thrill through you, a promise of what was to come. You felt his hands slide to the hem of your tunic, lifting it slowly, his touch deliberate and tantalizing. The fabric slipped over your head, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of admiration and desire. He stepped back, his own tunic falling to the floor, revealing the chiseled lines of his body. His gaze remained locked on you, filled with a raw, almost primal intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he moved closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetism that drew you in. He reached out, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper, "are you experienced?"

The question hung in the air, laden with implications. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the vulnerability in your answer making you feel exposed. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

A flicker of something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Who was he?"

The question, more of a demand, sent a shiver through you. You hesitated, the memory of your past lover surfacing. "A man from my village," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But he means nothing to me now."

Marcus's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his possessiveness palpable. "Good," he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. "Because from now on, you belong to me."

The intensity of his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I want to see you touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your breath caught in your throat, the request both shocking and tantalizing. You hesitated, your eyes searching his for reassurance. His expression softened slightly, a hint of encouragement in his gaze. "Show me," he urged, his voice a seductive murmur. "I want to see how you pleasure yourself."

With trembling hands, you reached down, your fingers skimming over your own skin. Marcus stopped you mid-motion, pushing you onto a plush couch in the room. He loomed over you, an imposing force, as you began to trace delicate lines across your chest, down to your stomach, and even lower. You delicately traced the lips of your pussy, collecting the small amount of wetness beginning to grow. It wasn’t enough friction, so you brought your hand to your mouth and sucked on two fingers softly before bringing them down to circle your clit in sweet and deliberate circles.

Your mouth formed a soft "O" at the feeling, as your movements brought a soft look and feel of pleasure to your body.

“Have you ever been tasted?” The question caught you off guard, and your hand stopped.

“Tasted?” you echoed.

He chuckled. “Yes, tasted.”

He got onto his knees. “What’s that?” you questioned.

He smirked and spread your legs. “Allow me to show you.”

He peppered soft kisses on your thighs before spitting on your clit, making you moan. But even the moan was cut off as his warm mouth began attacking your body. You felt his tongue flick and suck everything he could. You’d never moaned so loudly in your life. He was devouring your pussy, kissing and biting it with an intensity that made you writhe.

You couldn’t sit still. You covered your mouth and whimpered. “Already this wet for me, huh?” he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “Spread yourself for me, baby.”

Your chest was heaving as you moved your trembling hands to comply. You spread yourself open, the vulnerability making the moment even more intense. Marcus’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, swirling around your clit, teasing and torturing you with expert precision. You could feel every flick, every stroke, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with a ferocity that left you gasping. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

Marcus pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I want you to come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

His words were your undoing. With a cry, you shattered, the orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled, your muscles contracting as the pleasure washed over you. Marcus continued to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your climax until you were spent, lying limp and boneless on the couch.

He moved up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of the moment making your head spin. “You taste incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “I could do that all night.”

You shivered at his words, the promise of more to come making your pulse quicken. “Thank you, sir,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a thrill through you. “You’re welcome, my sweet. But we’re not done yet. I want to see everything you have to offer.”

He pulled your legs to be flush against his thighs, his strength and control undeniable. You finally dared to look at him in all his glory, and the sight took your breath away. His dick was huge and intimidating, with a slight tilt to the left. The mere sight of it made your heart race, a mix of fear and anticipation swirling within you.

With a deliberate slowness, he rubbed his dick up and down your slick entrance, coating it in your orgasm. The sensation was almost too much, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.

Then, he began to press into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure, the fullness, it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“OH FUCK, MARCUS,” you cried out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

He chuckled at your sudden drop in formalities, his amusement mingling with the raw desire in his eyes. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. No need for titles here.”

The stretch was deliciously painful, a burning sensation that morphed into pleasure as he filled you completely. He paused, allowing you to adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving your face. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet incredibly aroused.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect.”

You whimpered in response, your body trembling as you struggled to accommodate him. He began to move, slow at first, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through you. The friction, the heat, it was overwhelming. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.

“Faster, please,” you begged, your voice breathless.

Marcus obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. Each stroke pushed you closer to the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

“You like that?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like being fucked by me?”

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you cried out, your body arching beneath him.

He drove into you with a relentless rhythm, his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles that matched his thrusts. The dual sensations were too much, pushing you over the edge into a mind-shattering orgasm. You screamed his name, your body convulsing around him, your vision going white with the intensity of your release.

Marcus didn’t stop. He continued to pound into you, chasing his own release, his hand still working your sensitive clit. The overstimulation was almost painful, but you relished it, craving more of the pleasure-pain.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic. “I’m going to come.”

You tightened around him, wanting to push him over the edge, wanting to feel him lose control. “Come for me, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Fill me up.”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed. His groan of release was primal, his body shuddering against yours. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you, the sensation pushing you into another smaller orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Finally, he pulled out, his cum dripping from your swollen pussy. He looked at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something more—something possessive.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice a low growl. “No one else gets to touch you like this.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you felt a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. You had never been claimed so fiercely, never felt so desired. But a question lingered in the back of your mind, one you couldn’t ignore.

“Will you be seeing any other maids?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him with someone else, touching them the way he touched you, sent a pang of jealousy through you.

Marcus’s expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t taste the others. I��ve seen you around, watching you, waiting for this moment.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “I’ve been planning this, waiting for the right time. You’re different, special. I want you to be my mistress.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. The idea of being his mistress, of belonging to him in such an intimate way, was intoxicating. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with wonder. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. No one else compares to you.”

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin with a possessive tenderness that made you tremble. He pulled you closer, his mouth capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, your body responding to his touch, craving more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes burning with desire. “I want you to understand something,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Being my mistress means you belong to me. Your body, your pleasure, it’s all mine.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions inside you. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made your pulse quicken.

“Good,” he said, his hands sliding down your body. “Now, show me how much you want to be mine.”

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 10

[chap nine] | [all chapters here] | [chap eleven]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

Author's Notes | I can't believe this fic is already at 10 chapters! I know these two idiots are taking their time to get together, but trust that things are getting more and more interesting! I hope everyone enjoys reading this just as much as I love writing it, and as always, the tag list is still open for new readers!

WC | 6.7k

Chapter Ten

As the fog of sleep began to lift from your head, you couldn’t help but moan smally,  rolling over and trying to resist consciousness. You realized you were beginning to feel particularly warm, which is most likely what prompted your body to awake so easily - you could sleep like a damn log, yet once you got hot enough, it was practically impossible to stay asleep. So, you tried to shove your blankets aside, kicking them away from your legs to avoid breaking out into a sweat. As you did so, you made contact with something solid, hearing a tired grunt just a split second later that caused you to pull a sleepy face of confusion.

That’s when you remembered that this bed didn’t feel like yours, that these pillows didn’t smell like yours, and the night before came back to you.

You were at Eddie’s. You opened your heavy eyes, realizing immediately that you were practically curled into Eddie’s back, which would explain why you felt so hot just a minute ago - evidently, you both ran a little hot in your sleep. With this small distance, you could feel his body heat radiating towards you, feel the tickle of his curls against your forehead, you could see his torso rise and fall with shallow breath. Sleepily, you shuffled away, yawning as you began to slowly look around his room, squinting at the bits of sunlight peeking through the sheets hanging over the windows.

Now that it was light out, this was exactly the kind of room you’d expect a teenage boy to have - the floor was littered with clothes and junk, the walls were covered with posters, and music equipment was in every direction you looked. You tiredly blinked your eyes a few times, attempting to find a clock as a yawn dared to escape your mouth; you finally spotted one after propping yourself up and looking over Eddie’s shoulder at the bedside table.

The two of you had been sleeping through first period; despite all your efforts to not care about shit like that anymore, you nonetheless felt a little jolt of panic because you were missing school again. Force of habit, you figured.

As you rubbed sleep from your eyes, you glanced down at Eddie, whose face was nearly obscured by his messy mane of hair - you found yourself briefly thinking that he’d probably benefit from pulling it back while he sleeps. Not that you were concerned with the cleanliness of his hair and skin - no, you just knew from experience that it would probably be helpful for him to keep hair off his face at night.

You slumped back against the pillow, closing your eyes as you debated whether or not you wanted to wake up or try falling asleep again. You already knew you’d be in deep shit with your parents, considering that you ran off last night without telling anyone where you were going, so what was the harm in resting a while longer? There couldn’t be anything wrong with missing second period, too, right?

Beside you, Eddie stirred a little, causing you to peek at him through your lashes. He settled back in easily enough, but that’s when you finally realized just how odd this whole situation was, how sharing a bed with him felt very nearly inappropriate. Evidently, you had no qualms with it last night, accepting his invitation with absolutely no debate, but it felt different now that you were waking up to a new day. Ideas one had in the late evening never seemed ridiculous or ill-advised until confronting them the following day. Despite yourself, you could feel your neck growing hot, and you rolled onto your side to face away from Eddie as if that would correct the situation. At the very least, it would help you think if you stopped watching him sleep.

Should you leave now that you’re awake? Or should you pretend to be asleep until Eddie also woke up? You couldn’t just linger around impatiently waiting for him, that would look ridiculous.

These are things you didn’t have to worry about before - sleepovers with girls were different, especially when you’d known those girls since you were five years old. And staying the night with Duncan or any other ex-boyfriend had little to no rules. But this? A sleepover with your fake boyfriend who you may or may not be friends with? This sort of thing didn’t have a rulebook for you to follow, so any option may well be the wrong one.

Deciding that you shouldn’t linger around as if you were some needy one night stand, you climbed out of the bed as carefully as possible, unsure just how light a sleeper Eddie was. The floor creaked under your feet despite your light steps, causing you to flinch and shoot a glance at Eddie; but he seemed undisturbed by it.

You stole a glance down at the t-shirt you’d borrowed from Eddie, tugging at the hem as if suddenly you were self-conscious - considering that you had no qualms with showing Eddie skin the night before, it felt nearly ridiculous to start worrying about it now. You rolled your eyes at how stupid you were being as you began to search for your discarded clothes amidst the piles of Eddie’s belongings.

Once you had your clothes in hand, you looked between Eddie and the bedroom door - you realized that his uncle had to still be sleeping, too, which caused you to nearly hiss at your luck. Now you had two people to worry about waking if you weren’t careful. You could sneak your way into the bathroom without waking them, but what if you stepped out of the bedroom and Eddie’s uncle happened to be awake? You didn’t need to be flashing skin to both Munsons.

So, sighing through your nose, you dropped your clothes atop Eddie’s cluttered desk and shook off your concerns - he probably wasn’t going to see anything, and if he did, who cared? You clearly didn’t last night.

Once you’d pulled off Eddie’s t-shirt, you paused as if intending to fold it, but laughed at yourself a second later - if his messy room was any evidence, he wasn’t all that concerned about the state of his clothes. You quickly started to pull your own clothes back on, briefly wishing you’d brought your gym bag inside since your outfit from yesterday was there. That was obviously more attractive than sweaty workout clothes, so you’d have to change into them later, once you were out of here.

As you tugged your shorts over the curve of your ass, you heard Eddie hiss out a small, surprised “shit,” causing you to startle and spin around to face him. Your skin felt hot as you met his tired expression with a surprised look of your own, realizing too late that you had yet to put your shirt on, although he didn’t appear to care or even notice given how heavy his eyes were. Despite suddenly feeling self-conscious, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, spinning back around to quickly grab your shirt; your skin still felt hot and your heart a little fast, but laughing made the awkward situation a little easier to bear.

“Fuck, you scared me.” Eddie grumbled in a gravelly voice as you quickly pulled your shirt over your head, turning to face him again. He lied back with his eyes closed, throwing an arm across his forehead as if he needed to compose himself - was his heart drumming as fast as yours? And was it because you actually startled him, or was it because he saw more than he needed to?

You took a deep breath to collect yourself, eyes darting across Eddie’s face and arms while you pushed your embarrassment down. God, you felt stupid being this nervous. So, you coolly rolled back your shoulders and straightened up, knowing that by faking confidence you’d inevitably feel confident in the next couple minutes.

“You tell every girl you sleep with that she scares you?” You teased foolishly, feeling your own nerves spike for a split second. Eddie’s mouth twisted in embarrassment, his cheeks growing red and a flustered sound leaving his lips as he removed his arm from over his eyes.

Now that your heart was slowing back to a reasonable pace, you realized that you must look gross right now - your hair had to be dirty, you could practically taste your morning breath, and you were certain your skin was shiny with oil. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened in momentary panic, whipping around to face yourself in the mirror above the desk, thankful for the closed curtains in the room, as the darkness surely hid the worst of it. You leaned in close to your reflection, fussing with your hair so it didn’t look quite so awful, baring your teeth to see just how gross they probably were, rubbing your fingers across the bridge of your oily nose. God, being a teenager sucked sometimes.

In the reflection of the mirror, you paused your self assessment and flicked your gaze to watch Eddie for a few moments. He tiredly dragged his hands down his face then through his tangled hair, staring up at the ceiling with heavy eyes, as if he wasn’t fully awake yet. His cheeks were still pink from your little joke, although a very slight grin tugged at his lips, so perhaps he was coming around to it. You realized his chest was bare, although you couldn’t see anything below the neck thanks to the bedsheets; nonetheless, your eyes thoughtlessly trailed from his face to his collarbone to the rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket.

When Eddie turned to look at you again, you quickly diverted your attention, hoping he didn’t realize you’d been studying him. It’s not as if you were doing anything wrong, but somehow it nonetheless felt like you shouldn’t have been watching him quite so closely, as if you were nearly caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“What, worried what I’ll think of your bed head?” Eddie’s tone was teasing yet still tired. You allowed yourself to glance at him in the reflection with slightly narrowed eyes, to which he smirked lazily. A large yawn escaped him, and he attempted to speak through it; you had to fight your smile at how silly he sounded, “You can shower, if you want.”

“I am not showering while your uncle’s here, that’s weird.”

“Why is it weird?” Eddie questioned while closing his eyes again. You shrugged despite knowing he couldn’t see it, trying to think of an explanation.

“It’s just… weird. I don’t know.” 

Eddie leaned back onto his arms, listless eyes looking you up and down for a few moments. Yet again, you felt self-conscious under his stare, so you glared back as if to challenge him. Rolling his eyes at your stubbornness, he flopped back down on the mattress with a heavy sigh.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

You both went quiet for a minute, as if the awkwardness was setting in all over again. You didn’t know each other nearly well enough to be around one another in the morning like this, you both knew that now. It felt far too intimate to be a part of someone else’s morning routine, and a small part of you was regretting the decision to stay here with Eddie last night - you wished you’d considered that before climbing into his bed as if it were your own.

This was a strange scenario for you to maneuver, but you couldn’t let Eddie know how weird it felt, couldn’t let on the nerves that kept jolting with each minute you were here. So, you put on your best game face and swallowed your discomfort, going back to fussing with your hair as if nothing in the world could break through your icy exterior.

“I should get going, Munson.” You said in your best cool, careless tone, “My parents are gonna kill me when I get home.”

Eddie huffed a slight laugh, brought down an octave or two thanks to his scratchy morning voice, “Well, at least we accomplished that, right?”

You gave him a puzzled look in the mirror before turning around to face him, leaning back against the edge of the desk. Eddie took in your expression for a moment before realizing that you were confused by what he said. Again, he yawned.

“Wasn’t that part of the plan - piss off your parents? I’d say we did an even better job killing your reputation than we expected to; I deserve a metal or something.”

“Oh,” you answered in a small voice. Eddie was right - you did already accomplish everything you’d set out to do when you asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend. Your reputation was in the mud, you obviously got under Duncan’s skin, and after last night you knew for a fact that your parents would be downright pissed. What else was there to do?

Despite yourself, you were… disappointed? No, you couldn’t be. Maybe the realization of it all was just jarring, maybe you needed time to comprehend that you were now officially an outcast. Or maybe what you felt was fear at the prospect that moving forward you were no longer the terrifying ice princess. Yeah, that must’ve been it.

You could feel Eddie’s stare as he inevitably tried to decipher the look on your face. You tried to relax the furrow of your brow as you continued to consider what was next for you as a newly appointed social pariah.

“So, I guess we’re… done?” Eddie questioned as if confused by the idea, as if he needed to hear the words leave your mouth, tilting his head while meeting your eyes. He was right, but that seemed strange to wrap your mind around.

“Technically.” You shrugged, looking down at your feet in thought. But after a quick moment, an idea crossed your mind and a faint smile spread across your lips; you looked back up at Eddie as if you were relieved, “Though… it’d be pretty lame to call it quits now - they’d all think we got scared because of the homecoming shit.”

Eddie’s brow went up curiously, surprised by your line of thought; you could see the cogs turning in his own head as he considered it, “You think so?”

“I know these people, Munson.” You crossed your arms and jutted your hip, suddenly finding amusement (and perhaps relief) in the knowledge that this scheme wasn’t over quite yet, “They’re gonna keep poking and prodding at me until they get what they want or they get bored - it’s the same shit I used to do. We can’t give them the satisfaction of thinking they broke us up after what they did; if anything, I think that should make us stronger.”

Eddie finally sat up, the sheets falling away from his chest as he met you with an eager, conspiratory smile; you tried to focus, ignoring the curious desire to study his newly exposed tattoos, “So, keep up the charade, make them hate how much of a happy couple we are?”

You nodded as your smile grew larger, “At least until all this shit blows over. Give them another month or two; they’ll get bored of us and set their sights on the next sorry loser that catches their attention.”

For a long beat, Eddie studied you keenly, his expression relaxing as he considered this new course of action. Again, you felt vaguely self-conscious at how closely he seemed to be looking at you, but you refrained from showing it. Eventually, Eddie shrugged.

“Well, no time like the present.” He swung his legs off the mattress and stretched his arms above his head, twisting his back to work out any kinks. You briefly glanced down at his bare legs, your eyes trailing up; but you quickly brought your attention back to his face, wondering why you were so damn interested in looking at Eddie all of a sudden, “You sure you don’t want to shower?”

You pressed your lips together at the question, “Somehow that feels like an insult.”

He teasingly rolled his eyes with a sleepy grin, “Despite your best efforts, I’m learning you, princess. You’re not the type to go to school without looking put together like a doll.”

Damn, he had you pegged. You sighed in defeat, causing his grin to grow into one of self satisfaction.

“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself.”

Eddie sighed, but the amusement on his face was still clear as day, “One of these days I’ll get you to admit I’m right about something, you know.”

You gave him a taunting smile while heading towards the door, yet again challenging him, “Well, today isn’t that day, Munson.”

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By the time you and Eddie had gotten yourselves cleaned up and made it to Hawkins High, third period was nearly over, so instead of wasting your time by heading in, the two of you shared a cigarette in the van, waiting around for the bell to ring. Even then, you took your time walking into the school building and through the halls.

Now that you were amongst your peers again, you couldn’t help but feel a bit tense - after all, prior to today you’d spent the week feeling like shit, feeling the pressure of everyone’s judgment weighing down on you. The icy armor you wore so well was back on as you and Eddie made your way down the hall, feeling far more confident with a cold look on your face and a small glare in your eyes. No one’s criticism could touch you so long as you appeared stony and unapproachable.

In contrast to your frosty demeanor, Eddie fell naturally back into the playful, cheeky boyfriend role he had established for himself - his arm was lax over your shoulder, his smile was charming as ever, and his words were more forward and suggestive. It was funny to observe following the past sixteen or so hours you’d spent together - alone, Eddie always seemed to pull back a little, to give you space as he still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of you. Alone, you ironically became the more forward and brash one. But so long as there may be an audience watching, Eddie was willing to perform, putting up his own mask of total confidence in this false relationship between you two.

Just like a dutiful and caring boyfriend would, Eddie walked you to fourth period, very intentionally pulling you into a hug and shooting a wink at Duncan after catching him watching the two of you. The hug was a total shock, since neither of you had done that before, and you hoped that your shoulders didn’t seem stiff or your arms didn’t seem awkward as they snaked around Eddie’s middle. You felt him laugh against your ear before pulling away, knowing that you were inevitably trying not to act affronted by the new display of affection.

Once fourth period was over, Eddie quickly met you en route to the cafeteria, almost as if he had run just to meet you outside the classroom door; it seemed like maybe he was trying to make up for the past two days of avoiding and ignoring you.

Thanks to Eddie’s effortless presence, you were far less aware of whether or not people were looking at you, whether or not they were whispering about you. Any anxieties you had about your place at the bottom wouldn’t bother you so long as you had him as a distraction from all the bullshit going on around you.

When you two entered the cafeteria, you were certainly aware of the eyes that followed you, of the way your former friends were surely whispering about you. But with your confidence restored, you didn’t even spare them a thought or a glance, guiding Eddie past fellow students with the gentle tug of your hand.

As you two entered the lunch line, you pulled your hand from Eddie’s so you could pick up a tray, which he promptly took from you. You shot him a look, but before you could say anything, he smirked playfully.

“I’ve got it, just stack it up with enough food for both of us.” You rolled your eyes, but acquiesced to the instruction, leading Eddie down the row of unappetizing food, “You’re gonna sit with us today.”

You pulled a bit of a face at him while picking up two bowls of shitty school spaghetti. As you set them on the tray, you hummed as if it were an answer, turning away from Eddie quickly as you continued to eye the limited food options.

Unsatisfied by your lack of response, Eddie continued, his tone perhaps mildly peeved that you made so little effort to engage with his friends, “You know at this point it would look ridiculous if you didn’t.”

You glanced up at him while biting the inside of your cheek, picking up more food for you both, “Something tells me your friends wouldn’t want me around, Munson.”

Eddie sighed, seeing that you were prepared to argue rather than admit he was right. He leaned in over your shoulder as if to make a point, keeping his voice a little low, “Considering that you want to keep up this hoax, all of you are gonna have to learn to tolerate each other.”

You turned your head to meet his eyes, the position reminding you of how closely you’d stood together back at the arcade - foreheads practically touching, Eddie hovering in your space in a way no one ever did. You gave him a mocking pout, catching the small glimmer of amusement in his eyes that he tried desperately to fight, “Oh, so it’s only me that wants to keep up this hoax?”

His brows rose with easy insistence, knowing you had little room to argue. Behind you two, someone coughed impatiently, reminding you to keep moving and not hold up the lunch line. You sighed and continued forward, grabbing a couple boxed milks that you discarded on the tray before leading Eddie out towards the lunch tables.

“Fine.” Your tone is stubborn even as you agree, “I’ll sit with you - if they’ll let me.”

As he came up alongside you, Eddie rolled his eyes while gently nudging you with his shoulder - you were never going to make even the most simple tasks easy. You could already see Eddie’s customary lunch table occupied by Gareth and the freshmen you’d met earlier in the week; you briefly wondered at how they could’ve possibly met, but didn’t entertain the idea further. Coming from the opposite direction was Jeff, who showed mild surprise on his face when he saw you and Eddie together again; you caught yourself wondering what the group thought of the past few days, wondering what Eddie did or didn’t say to them about it.

But before you could reach the lunch table, however, you caught Amelia in your line of sight, her long strides purposeful as she came in your direction. You did nothing to mask the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head, immediately annoyed at the prospect of talking to her; god, you didn’t want to deal with whatever shit she was about to lay at your feet. The smug little look on her face was one you knew quite well, the kind of expression she wore when she was about to be antagonistic just for the hell of it, so you mentally prepared for whatever bullshit was coming for you.

As she blocked your path to the lunch table, Amelia crossed her arms with a self-satisfied expression on her face; you tried to appear as disinterested in her as possible, staring past her shoulder at the nerds watching you before sharing a glance with Eddie. A mean smirk spread across Amelia’s lips as she looked you up and down with blatant criticism. Even without looking, you were certain that the rest of her friends were watching, waiting for whatever silly insults Amelia had planned for you. You could also feel the eyes of Eddie’s friends watching, too, along with anyone else who cared enough about trivial high school drama.

“Hm, yesterday’s outfit? That’s interesting.” Amelia started, looking between you and Eddie with a suggestive purse of her lips.

You responded with a bitchy smile of your own, “Paying enough attention to me to know what I’m wearing? That’s interesting.”

You don’t even give yourself time to enjoy Amelia’s galled look, grabbing Eddie’s sleeve and attempting to breeze past her as if she wasn’t even there. But you knew Amelia well and could feel her following just a step behind you, so once you’d reached your table you spun back around to face her. She stumbled back just a step as you caught her off guard, so you started talking before she could have the chance.

“Why are you so concerned with me? You can’t possibly still be jealous - after all, you got my sloppy seconds, doesn’t that make you the top of the food chain now?” You crossed your arms with a lax expression, knowing your casualness would get to her; Amelia always hated when you’d put on this emotionless front in the middle of a fight between you two. As she scowled, you simply raised your brow expectantly, which seemed to irritate her even more.

“Jealous of what, your trashy new boyfriend? Give me a break.”

You took a small step towards Amelia that wouldn’t normally have appeared threatening, calm as ever while you gave her a taunting grin. You briefly looked past her at your former lunch table, everyone there watching attentively. As you caught Duncan’s smug face, your eyes darkened a little, your need for retaliation these past few days coming back up. But you didn’t want to make yourself look like a fool again, so you took a composed breath while considering your plan of attack. Your gaze was calculated as you let your eyes travel over the nearby lunch tables, seeing the audience that had formed for the show that you and Amelia were putting on. Maybe you’d give them just a little something to talk about.

You bit your lip before grinning, giving Amelia a faux sorry expression as you spoke, “Well, considering that you settled for a pathetic two-pump chump and I’m getting such mind blowing dick that I’m missing school for it… I’d say you probably have a lot to be jealous of.”

The sound of surprise that left the people around you was like music to your ears; Eddie choking in shock behind you was so amusing that in other circumstances you would have laughed. But you were far more focused on Amelia than anyone else, taking glee in her affronted look and the disgusted scoff that left her throat. You gave her another condescending smile before turning back around, meeting Eddie’s surprised eyes as you settled into the seat at the head of the table. He was momentarily fixed where he stood, so you gave his arm a small, insistent tug; pulling himself together quickly, Eddie set down the tray and dragged a chair up alongside you.

You could feel the burn of Amelia’s eyes as she stared you down, undoubtedly trying to come up with some scathing remark. But you happily ignored her, playfully meeting Eddie’s eyes as he put on his own show of disinterest in your former friend. That’s one thing you could appreciate about Eddie - you were both good at quickly putting up your fronts and pretending. The rest of the table, however, seemed frozen with fear - you’d have to tell these boys to grow a pair.

“You’re disgusting.” Amelia spat with a shake of her head. Her tone was sickly sweet, “I can’t imagine that’ll get you many votes for homecoming queen.”

Despite your annoyance, you met her eyes again with a condescendingly kind look of your own, “We have better things to do than go to homecoming. So, when I win, the crown is yours - my gift to you.”

She rolled her eyes and flicked her hair over one shoulder with a snobby expression, “As if.”

“Well, remember to think about me while you’re slow dancing to Kenny fucking Loggins.” You mocked her with your best dazzling smile, pulling your attention away from her as if she’d been dismissed from your court.

As Eddie and the rest of the boys looked between you two, awaiting the next blow, you grabbed a milk carton from your tray, completely ignoring Amelia’s presence now. You were certain she made some frustrated face at you, but you wouldn’t dare give her the satisfaction of meeting her eyes again. You were done with this confrontation, and you just knew she loathed that you got the final word. With a huff, she eventually marched away, prompting you to look around the table with a self-satisfied smirk.

Jeff and Grant had both stood back during your confrontation with Amelia, waiting for it to end before they dared approach the table. As the lunch room returned to normal order, the boys awkwardly joined the rest of you. For a few long moments, none of them dared to speak as you opened your milk carton and took a long sip - was it fear or discomfort that held their tongues?

“You gotta warn a guy before you say shit like that.” Eddie broke the silence with a slightly droll tone, drawing your attention as your brow furrowed. Despite his cheeks being a little flushed, he otherwise looked like the cool leader his friends had come to expect.

“Say what?” You asked while setting one of the plates of spaghetti in front of you. Your gaze briefly traveled around the table - all of the nerds had varying degrees of amusement and trepidation on their faces as they looked back, none of them quite sure what to make of you yet. A short laugh escaped Eddie as he leaned back in his chair.

“I believe your exact words were ‘mind blowing dick.’” Although he wore a cocky smile for his friends, Eddie’s eyes suggested that the statement had flustered him a little. Around you, you boys snorted and held back laughs, which drew Eddie’s attention; he suppressed his own humored expression, “Oh, so now you guys think she’s funny?”

The freshmen looked a little unsure, clearly still unfamiliar with Eddie’s nuances; meanwhile, the older boys had come to know his antics well enough. Jeff quickly countered, although he couldn’t seem to look at you as he spoke, “Personally, I’d be flattered by the compliment.”

Grant nudged him as they laughed together. You couldn’t help your own grin as you looked back towards Eddie - maybe winning his friends over wouldn’t be as hard as you thought. And maybe they also wouldn’t be as insufferable as you’d predicted.

“See? It was a compliment.” Your ears felt a little hot as you recalled the conviction in your voice as you addressed Amelia - talking about Eddie that way felt wrong now that you considered it, but in the moment your one focus was getting under the other girl’s skin.

Eddie fondly shook his head at you, speaking with a confidence intended to mask his embarrassment from his friends, maintaining his usual unphased attitude, “Well, half the school heard you’re getting mind blowing dick, so I hope you’re happy.”

The boys snickered again as you coyly looked down at the table - the more Eddie kept talking about it, the more your own embarrassment set in. Maybe he was doing it on purpose.

“So, what are we doing on homecoming?” The freshman wearing a hat asked, causing the whole table to look at him questioningly. He elaborated as if the question was obvious, “She said we have better things to do - what are we doing?”

As you rolled your eyes, one of the other boys nudged him in the side, “We’re not doing anything, stupid, she was just saying that.”

“Jesus, keep your bony elbows away from me, Lucas.” The kid rubbed his ribs as if for emphasis. On his other side, the Wheeler boy made a face at his friends’ shenanigans, “Why would she just say that? We could do something, right?”

“Let it go, Dustin.” Wheeler said as if already exhausted by him.

You watched the freshmen as they began to bicker amongst themselves, your expression one of confused intrigue. They were like a bad car crash - you simply couldn’t look away. They talked over each other, their voices melding together while debating the validity of Dustin’s questions, the scene nearly to the point of being comical. As you continued to gape, you looked around the table at the older boys, who were already locked in a separate conversation, before your gaze settled on Eddie. You raised your brows as he met your eyes.

���So, what, are they the fucking three stooges?” Eddie snorted gleefully at the question.

“You get used to it.” He responded while poking at his food. You returned your attention to the boys as they continued; Eddie just let them go on like this? Although somehow amusing, it had also become exasperating.

So, with an irritated sigh, you planted your hands on the table as you spoke over them firmly, “Will you three shut up? Fucking freshmen…”

The last bit was muttered, but the table still heard it nonetheless. Everyone looked at you in various states of surprise. The one freshman - Dustin - however, looked the least taken aback by you, as if unaware of just how maddening his high energy was.

“Are we doing something for homecoming or not?” He questioned while meeting your eyes seriously; you raised your brow at his insistent need for an answer.

“You can do whatever you want, I don’t care.” You responded perfunctory before focusing on your food again, thinking that would be the end of it.

“I mean, we could do something.” Eddie chimed in, so you shot him a warning look as if to tell him not to get the freshmen’s hopes up. He willfully ignored it while continuing, “I know a guy who has kickbacks practically every weekend - might be fun to crash.”

You looked between Eddie’s eyes with a furrowed brow, to which he gave you an expectant look back. Who would Eddie know that wasn’t at this table right now, you wondered. Couldn’t be a high school kid, obviously, and given Eddie’s extracurriculars, there were only a handful of ways he could know someone else.

As if he was aware of your own curiosity, Gareth chimed in, “Who - Rick?”

“Who else?” Eddie gave his friend a cheeky grin.

“Man, Rick’s kinda weird even for us.” Gareth shook his head a little, although you could see he was nonetheless considering the idea; you figured none of these guys went to parties often, if ever, so even a shitty prospect was better than nothing.

“He’s not that bad.” Grant added eagerly, his grin suggestive as he added, “Maybe we’ll meet some college girls.”

You couldn’t help but sneer as the boys began talking amongst themselves at the possibility of a party with this Rick guy. You looked back at Eddie, who watched the group fondly before turning his attention to you, a pleased expression on his face as his grin spread a little wider.

“I’m not chaperoning a bunch of fourteen year olds at some stranger’s party.” You pointed towards the freshmen who began to protest spiritedly, so you leveled them with a harsh look, “You’re all still babies, you have no business going to parties yet.”

“Oh, come on,” Dustin, fearless as ever, tried to argue, “Didn’t you go to parties your freshman year?”

“Yeah, high school parties. Try finding one of those first.” You and Eddie met eyes, “This Rick guy isn’t some freak, is he?”

“Princess, everyone at this table’s a freak.”

You rolled your eyes, “You know what I mean. If we go to this guy’s party, will I regret it?”

Eddie shook his head almost too quickly for your liking, but his voice sounded sincere, “You’ll be fine. If you get worried, just stick with me.”

You studied Eddie’s warm eyes in search of a lie, and he stared back earnestly as if to prove his point. So, you mulled over the idea for a short while, trying to consider its pros and cons - you hadn’t been to a party in a couple months, and even now with your disinterest in high school shit, you still loved a good party. On the other hand, even Gareth thinks Rick is a little weird - that could possibly spell trouble. But, Eddie seemed relatively mindful about this sort of thing, so if he said you’d be fine, you were inclined to believe him.

So, you accepted the idea, giving Eddie a quick nod as the corner of your mouth pulled up, “I do love parties.”

The table celebrated your agreement, as if all of this was riding on you. Again, they could do whatever they wanted without you around, you didn’t care - but maybe they were seeking your approval because they knew Eddie wanted it, too. You quickly turned your gaze back on the freshmen, who were a little too eager.

“No, you are not invited.” They moaned and groaned about it, and briefly you felt like some kind of babysitter, “I’m looking out for you guys, you’ll thank me later.”

Dustin muttered a “yeah right” as Lucas and Wheeler scoffed in disappointment. It was nearly comical, but you refrained from smiling at them - it may have sounded silly, but in your way you were looking out for them, knowing that they were still just inexperienced kids. They couldn’t just jump into a party like this, they needed to at least attend a high school dance or get invited to a pool party first.

When you looked back at Eddie, he had something of a sweet smile on his face, which caused a mild skip in your heart - you almost didn’t like the look, it felt far too personal. Maybe he knew, too, that you were just looking out for the younger boys despite your cold exterior, maybe he wondered what things you’d seen or experienced at parties to make you so mindful of bringing a bunch of kids along with you. To distract yourself, you tore your gaze from him and looked at Gareth, who seemed a little nervous once he realized you were staring at him.

“Tell me honestly, how weird is this guy?” Gareth glanced between you and Eddie, unsure how to answer. You insistently pointed at him with your plastic fork, a sad piece of spaghetti falling from it back into the bowl, “Come on, don’t make me regret agreeing to this idea.”

Eddie started, “He’s fine--”

Gareth shrugged, “Dude’s just… used too much of his own supply.”

Ah, so he was a drug dealer. Considering that that’s how Eddie made his money, you couldn’t be too critical of that, it would make you a damn hypocrite. But that didn’t ease your hesitation any, since you knew nothing else about Rick, so you made a face at Gareth that insisted he continued.

“I don’t know, he’s not all there half the time. But I don’t think he means any harm.” Gareth, again, met Eddie’s eyes as if seeking approval.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Eddie said in an easy tone, nudging your toe with his while grinning at you. You narrowed your eyes a little, but accepted the information Gareth gave you, wanting to believe him. Eddie slouched in his seat beside you, resting his arm over the back of your chair, “It’ll be fun, princess, I promise.”

You sighed a little, nudging Eddie’s foot back as you continued poking at your food, “And way better than a stupid homecoming dance, right?”

Eddie smiled back with a nod, “Way better.”

You hummed in response, unconsciously relaxing back against Eddie’s arm, looking towards the freshmen again as they tried to argue their case with the rest of the table.

.

.

addt. Author's Note | idk if anyone else noticed, but one of Eddie's friends isn't actually credited with a name, so I've been using the actor's name to supplement :)

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @avalon-wolf @cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter

@daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh

@eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames

@graciehams @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00

@maskofmirrors @mewchiili @miaajaade @mmmunson @moonisu

@munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola

@sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[doberbutts]

We have a little free pantry in our front yard (toothbrushes, tampons, shelf-stable snacks bottled water, etc.), and I read a lot about people's experiences having one online before we put ours up re: expectations about potential interactions with people using it, but nothing prepared me for how weirdly aggro *other* people sometimes get about us having it as a form of "activism" as opposed to some other, more nebulous idea of broader social change. "Don't you think it'd be better to volunteer at or donate money to a homeless shelter, so those people can get the actual help they need?" "Shouldn't you focus more on trying to campaign for policy changes that will help more people than one street corner if you care about this problem?" "Isn't doing that a waste of time?" "Aren't you just encouraging people not to get help?" I do that other stuff when I can. This is something small I can do - in addition to raising awareness and fighting for bigger change, when I have the time and money and spoons - and at least, when I don't. It's crazy to me to approach social justice issues with such an all-or-nothing mindset as some people seem to. I've met enough of the individuals who utilize it to know it makes a difference in a very tangible way for the people directly around me.

No, I agree entirely.

Corny and dated as it is, there's a reason the saying is "be the change you want to see". If no one within the community puts in the work to fix the community's problems, even in little bits and pieces, then how will anything change? Raising awareness only goes so far. What happens when all anyone is, is aware? Aware, and still doing nothing, waiting for someone else to put in the work.

Sometimes, that someone is going to need to be you. You can't just wait around and wait for someone else to do it for you.

If I see someone digging through the trash for food, I wave them over and offer them food from my house or fresh food from a store or take them to a restaurant where they can order whatever they want. If I'm getting groceries and I see someone very obviously homeless struggling to pay for their food, I tell the cashier to add it to my bill. No one starves in front of me. Ever since I stopped needing to rely on food stamps, no one starves in front of me.

This past summer I saw someone splayed out on the sidewalk in 95F weather in direct sunlight. I couldn't tell if he was unconscious from drugs or passed out from the heat or just simply had fallen asleep in the shade and then the sun moved. I was getting groceries so I added a bunch of hot chicken to my order plus several bottles of refrigerated water. I went over to him and woke him and explained that I was worried he needed medical attention. He'd passed out because he was tired, he told me. I offered him the hot food and the water and he thanked me, telling me he'd run out of water the night before and food the day before that and didn't have any money to get any more.

Everyone else had been walking around him like he was just an obstacle on the sidewalk. No one had thought to offer any help. When I walked away, some folks who saw me told me that that was very nice of me. I don't think it was nice of me. I think that's just what you should do if you see someone obviously in distress. They agreed that he seemed like he needed the help. They didn't act. They agreed that the compassionate and right thing to do was to offer assistance and make sure he was okay. But they didn't do it. They waited for someone else to do it.

I've mentioned in passing that I volunteer for the local teen LGBT club, helping lost gay kids find their way and maybe not kill themselves about it. It's not much. I mostly just text back and forth with whatever kids get my number from the adults that run the thing. Sometimes I give them tips and advice. Sometimes I'm just the cool gay uncle they tell about their latest school drama. Once or twice I've served one of them lunch on my couch while my dogs smother them with affection and they cry about their latest heartbreak. I don't do speeches or history lessons or anything like that. I don't think I'm qualified for it, in honesty. But if even one of them doesn't commit suicide, if even one of them doesn't self-harm, if even one of them no longer feels all alone in the world because I'm there when they reach out to me, that's enough.

Today on my commute to work, the guy in front of me had a major wipeout on his motorcycle. I stopped my car in a position that none of the other cars could hit him, and asked if he was okay, and waited until his friend (also on a motorcycle) had circled back around to help him off the road and check him over. I left once his friend waved me away. I offered to call an ambulance but he refused.

A couple weeks ago, also on my commute, a woman was stopped on the side of the road, waving her arms at drivers, shouting for help. I stopped. The other drivers didn't. Her car had died, she was new to town, and she was somewhere that notoriously doesn't get cell service. I helped her call a tow truck. It wasn't a trap. She didn't want to hitchhike. She just was stuck and panicked about it.

I stop and help animals get off the road. I've lost count on how many turtles I've carried to the other side. I helped my neighbor search for a dog he saw get hit by a car so he could take it to the vet. I shoveled my elderly neighbor's driveway for her, and talked my boss into giving her a major discount for her little dog's dental in which pretty much every tooth needed extraction or he would die. When I still lived in that rental with my roommates, we were surrounded by kids. Every kid on the block knew we were a safe house to go to. If they needed food or water, if they needed entertainment, if they needed just somewhere to be, they could be at our place. When covid started, I did a "reverse halloween" since Halloween was canceled, and I put bags of candy on every doorstep that I knew had kids inside. I've done a "neighborhood santa" putting a small toy plus a small gift card for the parents on every doorstep that has kids, for as long as I've lived around kids.

When I say activism requires action, I don't mean that every single person is required to save a thousand lives. The honest answer is, unless you have a lot of disposable time and money, you probably won't. But you can still make a difference. To one. To ten. To twenty.

And you know what? I'm not saying black people specifically came up with this- but how can you be surprised to know this is how I live my life when I say over and over that I was raised by black activists who lived during MLK Jr and Malcolm X and knew community action would have the longest-lasting effects? Of course I do all this. That's what being part of a community *is*.

[14thcommander]

seashore | hange zöe x reader

summary: a rainy day at the beach with hange. the shitty weather somehow leads to confessions of love. (idiots in love, friends to lovers, not beta read, a shit ton of symbolism, tooth rotting fluff)

i suggest listening to the song do you think I’m pretty by kingfisher

wc: 1.5k

The wind is gentle when it blows against your face — light, careful like a mother’s touch.

It brings the smell of cigarettes, the one Hange is currently smoking. They attempt to point it in the opposite direction, in order to avoid its terrible scent reaching you. It fails, but it’s the intention that counts something.

The beach is empty — well, mostly. There is a group of teenagers that are close enough to be seen, but too far to be heard. The sound of waves is the only thing you hear.

The ocean is a green, grayish color — the line that separates it from the sky, in the horizon, is blurred.

It is a chill day, one you consider the perfect atmosphere to go to the beach. Hange knows you like gray, moody days — the ones in which the sky looks like a warm, soapy bath. You were never a fan of sunlight anyway. Perhaps that’s why you admire Hange so much.

“Too bad Levi and Erwin are missing this sunny, hot day at the beach. Bet they’re sad just thinking about it.” Hange’s words are filled with irony, waiting for a reaction. The sarcasm that drips from their tone doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

The two of you are friends — well, sort of. You are part of the same friend group, consistently hanging out. Over time, you grew closer: what was supposed to be a collective hangout, turned into just you. It feels complicated these days.

“Oh, fuck off. You’re the one who agreed to come with me.” You offer them a middle finger, to which they throw their hands up in surrender.

The both of you are sitting on an old beach towel you brought, the fabric is wrinkled from being shoved on the bottom of your bag. None of you are dressed appropriately for the beach: Hange is wearing a thick flannel, protecting them from the chill breeze. You are wearing a beat down pair of converse, the ones you have since high school. Somehow, you match with each other. You try not to think too much of it.

“Call me crazy if you want, I wouldn’t let my friend go to this mopey beach all alone. I’m loyal like that.”

And that’s why you are at the beach, with Hange and no one else. Levi and Erwin were supposed to come along, however you are glad something came up for them. Nothing would be more awkward than ending up on a double date with your sort-of-friend.

The word friend tastes bitter on your throat, poisoning your lungs like Hange’s cigarette.

“You’re the only person I know that thinks this is appropriate beach weather.” They say, breaking the lack of dialogue between you for the past minute or so. Not that you’re counting or anything like that, of course. “Are you a vampire or something?”

It earns them a chuckle from you, almost a laugh — it drips like honey from your mouth, and Hange desperately wants to know how it tastes like. They want to hear it again.

“I doubt you like having fun in the sun either.” You reply, watching as the wind blows their hair — brunette locks dancing in the air, enhancing the messiness of their ponytail.

“Touché.”

Hange says, while burrying the remains of a cigarette in the sand, and you don’t point out how wrong it is — not with words, at least. Your eyes seem to translate your feelings either way.

“You’re so expressive.” It’s Hange’s turn to chuckle. “It’s adorable.”

Their words almost make your face heat in embarrassment. Almost.

“Oh, shut up.” Your tone is playful, not pointed at all. Avoiding their eye contact, you turn your face in order to pretend the ocean before you is a better sight than Hange.

“I mean it. I like it.”

Hange might tell you a joke, but they would never tell you a lie. Something about the honor of a scientist, you guess. It’s a beat of silence until you speak again.

“Yeah, well, you’re the opposite. I can’t read you at all.” This comment, though, this one is pointed — not like a knife, but similar to thorns on a rose. It comes with something beautiful, too: honesty.

The truth is palpable, swimming in between you. It’s all a funny, weightless banter, until it isn’t.

“My resting bitch face doesn’t help. Guess I’m better with words or something.”

This time you laugh, genuinely. It isn’t mean, you don’t mean to mock Hange at all — it’s just that the irony of it all is funny to you. Almost unbelievable.

“Oh, what a poet you are.” Your eyes are glued to the sea before you, admiring its chaotic beauty. The waves crash against the shore, becoming a conjugation of white bubbles.

It’s silent again, wordless tension building around you like a sand castle — ready to crumble at any sudden move.

“You’re really pretty.” They admit, which sounds like something in between a secret and a confession. It seems out of nowhere, but it truly isn’t. Lately, this is all Hange can think about. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

The waves crash again, destroying the metaphorical sand castle you built around yourself, trying to protect you from whatever it is you’re scared of.

“Hange.” The sound of their name leaving your mouth isn’t a threat, although it isn’t an invitation either.

“No, I mean it. Truly.” They reach for something inside their bag, something important in the mess of papers, headphones, and a cigarette pack.

They’ve found it: a small, worn out notebook.

“Here, take a look.” They offer it to you, opened on a certain page. “Then tell me you think I’m lying.”

There are doodles of you. Your face, distracted, frozen in the moment, probably when you were laughing at something crude Levi had said. There is your silhouette, too: you guess it’s the view of when you walk in front of them, hurriedly trying to arrive on time for a move you went to see.

Your smile, your eyes. Every detail of your face, something that cannot be translated by a photograph. The traces Hange has memorized over the years you have known each other. This is what they picture before going to bed, or early in the morning when they wake up.

“Hange.” This time, when you say their name, it is softer — it warms them up. “Hange…”

It’s like you’re hypnotized, unable to say anything but their name.

When you look up, they are closer, nose brushing against yours. Hange looks at you through thick glasses, with curiosity. This time, they can’t read your expression.

“Kiss me.”

And they do. It is gentle, soft — their lips move against yours like the waves move against the shore, as if it was nature’s reason for your own existence. Their warm palms find your face, holding you preciously. It is brief, however. The kiss ends as quickly as it came.

Neither of you speak, too afraid to break the moment. Hange brings their forehead against yours, and like that you stay. You taste like salt air, warm like whiskey. It is fiery, overtaking them as a whole. They wouldn’t mind being swallowed by it, drowning in the overwhelming hotness that is your touch.

This time, Hange says your name, warm brown eyes looking into yours and finding nothing but love. Admiration. Devotion.

It’s a humorless chuckle, what comes next. It leaves their lips nervously. For someone so careless like Hange, it sure is a new sight to see them like this — a pink tint covering their cheeks, a loopy smile on their lips. They have never looked so soft.

“I have wanted to do this for so long.”

“What, go to the beach on a rainy day?” You ask in attempted humor, beaming when it earns you a laugh from them.

“Kiss you. Couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

You smile, breaking eye contact and looking at the sand. It looks damp, cold. Unlike what you feel right now.

“Me too.”

Hange looks into your eyes again, scanning it from any signs of mischief. They find none.

“I get the appeal of this now. If anything, the shitty weather makes it feel more romantic.”

You give them an I know, right? look, and they fight the urge to kiss you again.

“Glad I could change your mind. We could do this again, if you want.”

The words that leave your lips are soft, but confident. Just like you.

“What, are you asking me on a date?”

“Depends on your answer.”

Hange offers you a toothy smile, feeling like a child. They feel on top of the world now. How could they not, after all?

“Yeah. Obviously, of course. I would love to go on a date with you. Multiple dates, even.”

You smile again, cheeks already hurting from so much happiness.

“Can’t wait to make you mine.” They say, bringing your palm to their lips, pressing a gentle kiss on your warm skin. “Cause I’m already yours.”

You believe them.

[ciciyup]

Summer.

cw: masturbation, oral, fingering, voyeurism (?)

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

Summer seemed to have hit harder that year; it was a scorching heat in which you could barely go outside due to the strong rays and high temperatures. It was a relief that no guests arrived at the mansion that day, so there were fewer tasks; at least it seemed like you would finish faster. As soon as you could, after finishing your tasks, you took off your uniform to replace it with a dress and, although it was still quite long for the great heat, the fabric was light and cool. You wouldn't deny that you liked spending free time with Snake in your room, on autumn days, while his snakes slithered all over the place to roam, while you and he watched the leaves fall from the trees through the window, or in winter being wrapped in blankets while having deep conversations... Yes, all of that had been reduced to just complaining about the great heat and fanning yourself for more than half an hour. Emily seemed to be comfortable between you, although she soon slid down to the cooling floor of the room, which at that point was the only cool thing in the place. Even though you had opened the window, the heat continued to hit hard; being a small room, it seemed that the heat was more concentrated.

—Maybe my room will no longer be an option to come. It's very hot here; it's like a small oven —you say, seeing how some snakes seemed to hide under the bed as it was a dark and possibly cool place; others took refuge in any other similar corner.

—It's really hot, says Oscar —Snake seems to agree with his friends as he watches them, but he doesn't feel like leaving either, just because you were there.

You nod, equally agreeing with the statement, thinking of something else to cool off, you remove some of your crazy locks that fell over your face; the bun you had formed today so that it wouldn't give you so much heat had come apart a little when you were moving around in the morning. Unconsciously, looking for fresh air, you lift your dress so that when you lift it up, a little bit of your legs are revealed. Blushing slightly at the realization, you pull your dress back down and arrange it so it doesn't get in the way, but Snake's shy eyes didn't anticipate the moment he saw them. Quickly looking away so as not to make you feel uncomfortable and, at the same time, trying not to embarrass himself at what he had just seen, Snake forces himself to think of something, anything, so as not to see you.

—I think there's fresh water in the kitchen, I'll go get it —you declare as you get up from your bed, although you don't move when your thoughts invade you, and then you look back at Snake. —Would you like our relationship to go further... At some point?

Snake swallows hard, his throat dry and his heart hammering at the question. Your words are a little overwhelming but tempting. He just doesn't know how to feel. Deep down he wants more; he wants closeness, trust, intimacy, perhaps. So many things he wants to say, but the simple nod he gives you makes him feel ashamed of himself.

—I would like to… Oscar says —trying to improve it with some quick words, making his snakes look at him in confusion before going back to their business.

—So… —about to get a little closer to his face, your body steps back as you look at him in some embarrassment, and instead you decide not to say anything else on the subject. —I’ll go get some water. I’ll be right back.

Snake tries to hide his clear disappointment at the fact that you’ve walked away so suddenly. The moment between you two had been interrupted by not knowing how to continue, but Snake can’t help the heat in his body running through him as he watches you from behind, as you walk out the door, the fabric of your dress clinging and hugging your body, and the sunlight shines in your direction, illuminating things he could see. As you return, you hand him a glass of water while yours was already half-empty from already drinking. You watch Snake drink the water, looking away, though you don’t know if it’s out of embarrassment or actually distraction. You bite your inner lip at the thought of doing something a little more daring, something more risky, but you feel like this might be the time. Grabbing your dress, you pull it back up over your thighs, so that your bare legs are on display.

—Snake —you call out almost in a whisper, staring at him, waiting for him.

His eyes seem to widen as you’ve never seen them before, staring motionlessly at your skin. He can’t look away, perhaps because he’s never seen you like this, but he’s startled to hear your voice again. His eyes drift slowly, as if studying you, from your legs, then to your thighs, and finally, he looks at you.

—This is something more intimate —you murmur seeing his orbs shine. Pulling your dress back down as you sit next to him, your legs hiding again. —Would you like to do that thing that people do? —Your emphasis when referring to the act as 'that' was the simple embarrassment of saying it so directly that you prefer to name it that way, but you know you need to be more direct for him to understand. —the love.

Your frankness makes Snake's heart beat strongly not only from your words, but from the way his body seemed to burn and start to react. The very idea of being intimate sounds terrifying and very tempting at the same time. Trying to find the words to respond, his eyes fall back to your legs unconsciously, and then he looks up at your face again. He nods slowly and his 'yes' comes out more like a hum than an answer.

—I... I won't do anything until I'm sure you really want it; I don't mean to force you —your voice seems to get softer as you speak almost shyly. You wouldn't want to do it if he didn't want it or wasn't ready yet.

Snake swallows hard again. He needs to speak on his own for this. The idea of being intimate with you was something he was starting to crave, but there was also that feeling of dread, worry that he wouldn't be enough, that he would screw up and you wouldn't like it. He wanted to take the risk; Snake wanted to do it seriously. —I want... to be close to you...

—Do you really want this? —you ask trying to confirm.

—Yes.

—Do you know how to do it? —as you watch him blush and shake his head, you know you'll both need help, but you know how to keep it up. —come. I'll help you.

Laying him down on the bed, your hands move hesitantly over what you should start doing at the beginning. Caressing his hands, you then start to slide them up to his still-on work suit, and before taking it off, you look at him for approval. At this point Snake's snakes seemed to have already left for a cooler place, but both of them were so caught up in the moment that they barely noticed, only when Snake needed to speak.

—Is this okay? —Your curious eyes look into his, hearing his whispered “yes” which, if there had been even the slightest breeze, you couldn't have understood. Moving on, you pull off the top and finish with the bottom. His scaly skin was now more visible, and even in places you had never seen before. To be on par and not make him feel so self-conscious, you take off your dress, letting it fall to your feet and leave it aside as you climb back onto the bed.

Settling in front of him, you spread your legs, showing him your pussy. Your hands make their way from your hips to your belly and then between your legs, leisurely caressing your clit and vaginal lips. Your index finger is sucked into your channel, tightening around it as you sigh quietly, starting with small movements. Snake’s cheeks are a deep pink, but he keeps his eyes trained on your entrance and how it seemed to now absorb two of your fingers. As your breathing became more labored, Snake can’t help but catch his own breath as his cock begins to rise, making him ashamed. For a moment you pause in your own, scanning and studying the boy’s face, before giving him a comforting smile and continuing with your own, but this time, instead, you pull your fingers out of your still wet hole and crawl over to where Snake was laying, staying on your back, lying between his legs. Your chest feels the warm mattress as you settle in, and the warm skin of your hands wrap around the boy’s dripping cock, who seems to give you a look of help.

—Let me help you —you murmur, your eyes locked on his. Your lips kiss around the swollen tip, making Snake gasp. Starting to take half of his cock inside your mouth, your tongue plays with his head and your hands are busy giving light caresses, each one on each of his thighs to give him more security.

He tries to keep his eyes on you; he tries, but the way you look at him as you take his cock into your mouth is too much. His eyes stray from your eyes to the walls of the room, then to your eyes again, then to the floor and the sheets that were almost touching him and back to your eyes again. His hands clutch at the nearest blankets not knowing why, but needing to hold on to something as you start to suck harder and harder and his cock starts to throb in a certain way that makes him lose his mind. You can hear his low moan as you stop sucking him, though he doesn’t say anything; his puckered mouth quickly falls open as he watches you climb onto his lap, bringing your hands to his shoulders in order to push him back and lay him down. A padded pillow keeps his head comfortably up, allowing him to better watch as you lift your hips slightly and carefully grab his cock, guiding it straight to your entrance, the head of his cock carefully entering until it bottoms out quickly thanks to the lubrication from earlier.

Carefully sinking back into his lap, cock now inside, you begin to move unhurriedly, getting used to the feeling. The heat inside the room was scorching, but at the moment it didn’t feel even as hot as it had seemed before. Your hands stay on his chest, keeping pace and balance as you rise and fall, starting to get used to it. Snake couldn't help but have his eyes caught on your movements: your hips rocking in a soft and sensual rhythm, your hardened nipples, your face with a light layer of sweat covering from your forehead to your cheeks making some strands of your now loose hair stick to your face, your toes curled and curled. It was like watching a divine act exclusively for him. If he could see you in such a beautiful form like that, he would do it again and again until you were satisfied, until he saw you fall apart and one of your mischievous smiles appear on your lips as you looked at him like you sometimes used to do. You begin to bounce on his cock in such a way that he can't help but straighten up, running his hands down your back to bring you even closer to his own body. His hands trace different shapes on it instantly as he begins to suck on your breasts and areolas, to which you give a satisfied nod stroking his hair and pulling him closer. Both of you desperately merging together, as if the slightest bit of separated skin made them feel far away.

The pace was becoming less gentle and more brutal, not enough to bother, but intense enough to make you let out a moan that you quickly fear was too much while Snake seems to be ecstatic to hear you. Moving your hips quickly, your pussy swallows the whole cock smoothly with more bounces, and Snake's balls seem to start slapping your ass as he lifts his own hips and holds your waist, lifting you up, wanting to feel more and match your pace. You gasp almost without air as the orgasm comes so suddenly with your euphoria at the limit as you continue to bounce, hugging Snake as you feel his hot load shoot out inside you, clinging tightly to your waist to the point of unconsciously digging his nails in and giving his last thrusts before emptying himself completely.

Both of your bodies remain still, recovering as they process the high until it ends. Sweating, you press your damp forehead against Snake's, closing your eyes and calming your breathing, to which he copies your action by doing the same, gently caressing, almost with traces of apology, your hips, now with crescent moons due to his previous act. The silence is pleasant and the breeze coming through the window is received with gratitude by both of you. Lovingly caressing Snake's face, you brush the strands over his eyes, observing his dilated pupils, still clinging to you without being able to let you go.

—You've done very well —you flatter. Your lips are gentle as they touch his, patiently, which makes Snake's cheeks turn a stronger pink and you smile at him with understanding.

Their bodies fall side by side on the bed, the pearly skin of both of them shining due to the work of the act and the heat, with the light of day making it more noticeable. Too hot to cover themselves, they maintain that pleasant and intimate silence. You turn to his side to lean on one elbow and face him, observing his calm profile that is quickly accompanied by a small blush when he feels your eyes on him.

—I like it. —You say, brushing your hand near his on the side. —The outside world doesn’t matter, nor expectations, nor appearances. It’s just you and me. I like it.

The blush spread across Snake’s cheeks almost to the point of having a red face, although the heat of the room made it almost imperceptible.

—Oscar... would say you're too good for me —he confesses with a shy look.

—Oscar is very clever —you tease softly, leaning down to place a kiss on his scaly cheek. —But he wouldn’t be right this time. I think we’re perfect for each other.

Snake’s eyes seem to widen, though not in surprise; instead, they seem to sparkle at your last words, giving a nod laden with emotion and shyness. The silence that followed, the oblivious chirping of birds filling the place. Outside the closed doors of the mansion, the world continued on, but for both of you, time seemed to have stopped for just a few simple moments. In that small bubble of tranquility, removed from the demands and expectations of life, you were nothing more than two souls who had found mutual refuge.

━━━━━━✧ 🦢 ✧━━━━━━

[multiversefanfics]

Colby brock x quiet reader?

Pairing: Colby x quiet F!reader Warning: cussing, slight bullying, Colby (yes he’s a warning) mention of serial killer

Summary: You've always been a quiet person and Colby is an outgoing, loud, crazy yet adorable human being who tries to pull you out of your shell every chance he gets.

A/N: This wasn’t hard to write considering i’m a quiet person as well, the only problem i had was figuring out a scenario for this, but i hope you like it!

You were sitting in your favorite spot in the library, reading the same book you've read a thousand times, it was a comfort book, and no matter how many times you read it, you never got bored of it. You were often teased by the number of books you read and how fast you read them, but they helped through life’s horrible way of living. You were so zoned into your book that you didn't realize that someone sat across from you until they cleared their throat. You looked up and saw a very attractive boy, you looked around then back at him “I’m sorry do you want this table?” you whispered just loud enough for him to hear you. He shook his head, tapping your book “That’s a good book” You cocked your eyebrow, he looks like he doesn’t read anything but comic books. “Yeah, it’s my favorite. I’m sorry I don’t mean to be rude but do you need something?” He shook his head smiling once more “Just wanted to talk to a pretty girl” You looked around confused, searching for the pretty girl in question, he chuckled which made your head snap in his direction “I’m talking about you. What’s your name?” This doesn’t happen to you, you were always known as the “quiet bookworm” Guys didn’t look your way often and you were okay with that, your heart belongs to books, you realized you haven’t answered him by the way he was staring at you “Oh sorry, I’m Y/N” He held his hand out waiting for you to shake it, which you gladly did “I’m Colby, nice to meet you. I’ve seen you around and I gotta say you’re the only reason I come to this library.” Your cheeks started to heat up and you felt yourself smiling “That’s very sweet, but you don’t know me.” He leaned forward looking directly into your eyes “But I want to know you.” You blushed again, leaning back to regain the distance between you two “Why don’t we go somewhere, where we don’t have to whisper to have a conversation.” His smile was gorgeous and his blue eyes sparkled against the sunlight that was peeking in through the windows, guys like this only existed in books he wasn’t real there was no way. “As much as I’d love to do that, I have to go.” You closed your book, picking up your bag throwing it over your shoulder, he stood up as well stepping closer to you “Can I at least have your number?” You looked up at him, he wasn’t going to give up and you knew that. You figured he’d text you for a bit then find something or someone else more interesting and leave you in the dust, you shrugged and handed him your phone so he could put his phone number in. He smiled wide and handed your phone back to you “I’ll see you around” He winked and walked out the door, looking back at you before he disappeared.

It’s been over 2 months since you gave Colby your number and he’s been texting you nonstop, asking to hang out, what books you recommend, your favorite color, meal, tv show, movie. He wanted to know everything about you, you admit it was cute, but how long is it going to take until he gets bored? It’s been hours since you texted Colby back but you were caught up in your book and weren’t looking at your phone, just when you were getting into that paragraph you heard the chair move in front of you, you looked up and there he was, smiling and staring deep into your eyes. “Hey Y/N” You closed your book looking up at him “Are you stalking me?” You raised an eyebrow watching his expression change from happy to see you, to nervous as hell “I- Uh- No” You giggled softly placing your hand on his “I’m only kidding.” You felt it, that spark that you longed to feel from something that wasn’t a book, but you don’t know if he felt it, I mean come on there’s no way he felt it, you’re overthinking this, you two weren’t even friends honestly. You pulled your hand back when you saw a dark haired girl walk up to you guys “Hey Colby” She squeaked which caused both of you to flinch, she looked at you as if you were the most disgusting thing in the world “What are you doing talking to her? She’s a loser” He looked confused, you sighed and stood up pushing your chair in, quietly walking out the door. You knew if you stayed it would never end, she was one of the people that used to bully you for reading so much. You heard Colby calling your name from behind you, yet you kept walking you didn’t want to hear him apologize for something that wasn’t his fault. “Hey, Y/N wait up.” He finally caught up to you, not like you were moving very fast in a way you kind of wanted him to catch up, pull you into his arms and tell you, you were the one for him. But again that stuff only happens in books and movies. “I’m sorry for what happened back there.” You shook your head giving him a weak smile “It’s not your fault, happens all the time no big deal” Colby frowned, oh how cute he looked even when frowning and it hurt that you were somewhat the cause of him frowning “Listen, I was gonna get a bite to eat, do you wanna join me?” You held your book close to your chest looking up at him “Are you asking me out on a date?” He blushed hard looking down at his feet then back at you “Yeah, I am. So what do you say?” You thought for moment hoping to increase the suspense, finally you nodded “Yeah, I’ll go” He threw his arms up screaming “Yes” since you finally took him up on his offer to take you out to lunch. “Where are we going?” You asked snapping him back into reality, he held his hand out for you to grab it which you so gratefully did and followed him to his car. You were hesitant, you still barely knew him what if he was like Ted Bundy, luring you away and then killing you. He saw you were hesitant and rubbed the top of your hand “I promise I’m not a creep, I just like you and want to get to know you better” You calmed down and continued following him to his car, as you reached for the door handle he playfully smacked your hand “As long as you’re with me, you will never have to touch another door handle again.” He smiled and opened the door for you. You couldn’t help but get butterflies, no one has ever done this for you before you were on cloud 9. You got in, getting comfortable in your seat before he closed the door, you watched him walk around the front of the car to the driver side as you put your seatbelt on. Is this what it’s like to have someone actually care for you? Is this going to end terribly? Your thoughts never stopped, overflowing your mind that you almost forgot you were holding a conversation with him “You okay?” You glanced over seeing the worried look on his face “Oh yeah, just lost in thought” He smiled sneaking a look at you before turning his eyes back to the road “Wanna tell me about it?” You shook your head going back to the previous conversation. You two finally reached the restaurant and once more Colby opened the door and helped you.

You two sat there, laughing and talking about your childhood and how you became so fascinated with books. Unfortunately it was time for you to go home, so you both walked back to the car and started driving back to the library where you told him to drop you off since you didn’t live far from there but it was getting dark quickly. “Y/N I want to make sure you’re safe please let me take you the rest of the way home” You looked over and he was giving you puppy dog eyes. You sighed in defeat and nodded “Fine, take a left here” He followed your every direction until you two finally reached your apartment, in the movies the girl would always ask if the boy wanted to come in, as much as you wanted to do that you knew that your books were all over the place and you didn’t want him to see that. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow, we can have a picnic” You couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, you’ve never been this bold before but it felt right. He smiled wide and kissed the top of your hand “Until tomorrow” You smiled back at him and walked up to your apartment giving him one more glance, returning the wave that he sent your way. You were falling for Colby although you didn’t want to because it’ll just end in a disaster you couldn’t help it, he was perfect. Everything you’ve dreamed about and then some. You sighed happily and did your nightly routine for bed, you couldn’t wait until tomorrow just to see his smiling face. You woke up to a text from Colby letting you know he was on his way and he’d be there in 20 minutes, you jumped out of bed cleaning on your entire living room so it would look presentable, took a quick shower and picked out your outfit for the day. As soon as you were done messing with your hair you heard your doorbell ring, you knew exactly who it was and couldn’t have been more excited to see him. You opened the door to see the smiling man holding a bouquet of flowers along with a blanket and a picnic basket, you smiled back at him, inviting him in until you were completely ready “This is cute and cozy” He beamed while looking around your living room “Thank you, sorry about my books I meant to move them there were 3 books on your coffee table sitting neatly, Colby didn’t mind one bit he even picked one up and read the cover. You picked up a light jacket and stood in front of Colby “Okay, Im ready” He looked up at you in awe “You look gorgeous” Colby couldn’t help but give you a toothy smile as he looked you up and down in the most respectful way, you began to blush as his eyes landed on your face “Thank you, love” In shock you couldn’t believe you actually said what you were thinking, Colby didn’t seem to mind he’s been wanting to call you a cute pet name since the day he built up enough courage to talk to you. He grabbed your hand leading you out the door, he waited for you to lock your front door before grabbing your hand once more. Colby was the perfect gentlemen he knew a girl like you loves romance based off the books you read and he knew he had to be that guy for you. He was completely enamored with you and wanted to shout it from the rooftops but it was too soon and he didn’t mind waiting at all for the perfect time to tell you he was in love with you. The entire ride to the park was a blur for you, you sat in the passenger seat just daydreaming of all the adventures you and Colby will have, could he be the one that breaks you out of your shell? Maybe, who knows really. Finally you reach your picnic area, be lays the blanket down and helps you sit down lowering the basket beside you, before sitting across from you “You know, I’ve seen you so much and your nose was always in a book, i’ve always known you were beautiful but to fully see your face.” He took a deep breath looking into your eyes “You are breathtaking, I cannot believe I get to have a picnic with the more gorgeous girl in the world.” He smiled wide rubbing your cheek with his thumb, you cheeks turned a bright red and you looked down trying to hide your face. Colby hooked his finger under your chin and lifted it up

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

A/N: I’m doing a second part, only because i want to😂. I hope i captured what you wanted. Feedback is appreciated!!

I hope you don’t mind I tagged you in this: @megamindsecretlair

Masterlist

[amybizarre]

🎄✨𝓐𝓭𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝓝𝓻. 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓿𝓮✨🎄

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽: Free Space (Chose "Sick Fic")

𝓐𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓮: Lovesick

𝓣𝔂𝓹𝓮: Short Story (No warnings)

𝓞𝓹𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸𝓭𝓪𝔂'𝓼 𝓭𝓸𝓸𝓻!

Your eyes opened slowly. You were in your bed and felt a weight on your chest. Glancing down, still half asleep, you saw Lovesick.

He was cuddled up to you underneath the thick covers, arms loosely wrapped around you, head resting on your chest.

His deep and even breaths told you he was still sleeping. Soundly in your arms.

You ran your fingers through his hair, a tender guesture of affection. A soft smile spread on your lips as you remembered what got you into this situation, albeit a wobbly one.

Him and you were both sick. Caught a pretty bad cold. So you had decided to stick together and take care of each other. Speaking of being horribly sick, your nose was absolutely stuffed. Reaching for some tissues on the bedside table, you tried to quietly unblock your sinuses.

Ah, tough luck. No success for you. Damnit, you'd need nasal spray for that. And that required you to get up, because your lazy butt forgot it in the kitchen.

Double damnit!

Groaning quietly, you flicked the used tissue into the bin, which had strategically been placed right next to the bed. You gently placed your hand on Lovesick's forehead. His felt skin felt hot and sweaty under your palm. Just now you realized, how much heat the small puppet actually emitted...

His fever must have risen during the night.

Triple damnit!

Welp, at least you could bring the fever medication right along with you from the kitchen.

Carefully, you wiggled free from his subconscious death grip. Your feet, clad in cute fluffy socks with pink hearts on them, hit the hardwood floors.

As you trudged out the room, Lovesick noticed you were gone. Still asleep, he started shifting and feeling around for your body. When his searching hand was met with a warm, but empty mattress, he slowly opened his eyes.

You weren't there.

Where did you go...?

Lovesick pouted, already missing you like crazy. He sluggishly pushed himself to sit up, feeling hot and dizzy. He looked around the room.

The curtains were closed, blocking out most of the sunlight that was trying to get in. But you were nowhere in sight.

His pout turned into a sad frown.

He wasn't feeling well...

He needed you..!

"Neighbor...?", Lovesick called out, voice hoarse, "Where are you?"

Down in the kitchen, you straightened up when you heard him call out for you from the bedroom.

"I'm in the kitchen, sugar! I'll be right back!", you replied. You heard a meak 'okay' coming from him in return.

Now in a bit of a hurry, since you didn't want him to wait, you grabbed the medications you'd need plus two water bottles.

You returned to Lovesick, who outstretched hs little hands to you impatiently. He pouted, quietly demanding you to cuddle him again.

"Just one second," you said, "Let me ready your medicine first."

You set everything down on the bedside table and took the small bottle of fever medication out of its box. Since you've given it to Lovesick before, you knew how much he needed. Taking the weird plastic spoon out of the box as well, you opened the bottle and carefully poured the right amount onto the spoon.

Lovesick gave you the side eye while he watched you prepare. He didn't like the taste of that stuff... It helped him, sure. But he still didn't like it.

You sat down beside him and poked the spoon into his direction.

"Say ahhh..."

But he didn't say 'ahh'. He turned his head away from you slowly and theatrically.

A sigh escaped you. "Love... Please."

He only crossed his arms. "I don't wanna... It tastes so bad...!"

"But we've gotta do something against your fever..."

Lovesick glanced at you. A mischievous thought crossed his mind, causing his eyes to glint in amusement.

"There is a way you could make me take the medicine though...", he cooed softly, inching a little closer to you now.

"Really? How?", you asked playfully, deciding to play along.

He smiled and pointed at his lips. Ah, He wanted a smooch.

You chuckled. "You can have it as a reward. Medicine first."

His eyes lit up and he finally opened his mouth. You gave him the spoonful of medicine. He grimaced at the bitter taste and struggled to swallow it.

You quickly gave him a bottle of water, which he eagerly drank from.

"Now my reward!", Lowsick begged with a pout, handing you back the bottle.

You put everything aside and nodded, opening your arms for him. "C'mere."

You didn't need to tell him twice. Eagerly, the small puppet climbed onto your lap, wrapping his arms around your neck.

Softly hugging him back, you placed a short, gentle kiss on his lips. He wiggled with happiness and hid his face against your shoulder.

You smiled and held him close.

Being sick wasn't so bad, if it was together with him.

[euphoricfilter]

hii!! i saw that you take requests? i was wondering if i could get a taehyung fluff where they celebrate their birthday! my birthday is Dec 31 and since his is Dec 30th i wanted something along the lines of like celebrating together alone bc my bdays have always been shitty and this year was the same so i want all the fluff you can give me please <3 if your requests r closed then that’s totally fine!!! i also wanted to say ur an amazing writer and i luv ur content so much!!

𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦:

pairing: kim taehyung x f! reader

genre: fluff || non-idol au || best friends to lovers au

summary: it was no secret that you had never been fond of your birthday, and taehyung hated that you always seemed to celebrate alone— your birthdays won’t be the only celebration each year now that taehyung’s flower has finally bloomed.

word count: 3.6k

tags/ warnings: fluff, nothing crazy, mild birthday slander, reader is an over-thinker, he calls her baby way too many times, tearful confessions

notes: I FOOKIN FINISHED ON MY BIRTHDAY LETS GO! this is my gift to all of you, my lovely readers!!

✿ ✿ ✿

Taehyung’s feeling for you were akin to a flower.

The day the two of you met, planting the seed of his budding feelings. Where you acted as the sunlight he needed to grow; wherever you were, he would follow—growing in whichever direction you were. The first signs of his seedling pushing past the surface of the soil had been months into your friendship.

Minutes after midnight and you’d been stood at his front door, cheeks washed red from the bitter winter air, almost hunched over as you catch your breath; clearly having ran, even as the clock struck 12 and a new day began. You hadn’t wavered from your mission, silently hoping that Taehyung was still awake, because even if it technically wasn’t his birthday anymore, you refused to let the magic fizzle out just yet.

“These are for you” you’d thrusted the bouquet into his chest, pretty little white narcissuses and prickly holly wrapped up in brown paper, tied ever so delicately with a white satin ribbon, where the little red berries rivalled the colour of your cheeks. Perhaps just as round, temping enough that Taehyung had to stop himself from asking to sink his teeth into your supple looking flesh.

“I looked online and it’s your birth flower” you’d told him, standing up a little taller, a little more confident when you see his blooming smile.

“You did this for me?” he asks, bearing the brunt the frigid December cold as he pulls his door open wider, fingers gentle as they close around your wrist, tugging you into the warmth of his apartment.

You nod, hands cupping around your cheeks to try and warm your face up a little. Radiator in the hall sending waves of mellowed heat your way until you could feel the tips of your toes and fingers, nose no longer icy.

Taehyung couldn’t help but smile, and you couldn’t help but think he had the prettiest smile you’d ever seen.

Always so radiant, always so expressive, always so Taehyung, that you couldn’t help but think your efforts were worth it when he looked down at you like that. The miniscule pain of scouring the city for a flower shop willing to help you late into the night, and winds that had almost knocked you over, it didn’t matter because Taehyung was smiling at you like that. Pretty-pretty Taehyung and his pretty-pretty smile.

“Thank you” he’d laughed, “Thank you so much. How about some hot chocolate to warm you up?” he’d offered, and you’d agreed, how could you not?

The stem of Taehyung’s flower had grown fast, with every free weekend the two of you spent together, the little spark of developing love had burst into rapid flames.

Taehyung didn’t mind, revelled in the fact he felt something so raw about another person, never having felt anything like this before. He’d been unsure, fumbling over himself until he found his footing, worked out what you liked and what you didn’t. A little clumsy with his growing adoration until he sat back and realised the feelings he had for you were very real. A shadow in his mind weighing the consequences of acting on his emotions, because why would he fuck this up if he already had you? Maybe not in the exact way he wanted, but it was better than not having you in his life at all.

He wasn’t above dating, had milled around in high school, experimenting with whoever he pleased but nothing would ever be able to compare to what he had for you. An inexplainable warmth that blossomed throughout his body, where delicate vines weaved around his heart and the most beautiful flowers had started to bloom. Where the more Tae learnt about you, the faster he was falling.

He’d never been a fan of the term ‘falling in love’ something a little too melodramatic for his tastes, the very thought of falling for another person less romantic than it had been painted out to be. Because if his life were to be art, then he never wanted it to be the soppy kind, where you know the end is never good and the characters of the play seemed to always live in impending doom. Where only one will come out on top and get what they want while the rest suffer.  

He’d learnt falling didn’t have to be bad, falling—where you’re cushioned by clouds crafted with passion to break the fall. Where kisses taste sweeter and bare skin on skin felt electrifying. Where your mind bubbles over with thoughts of that person until you can’t help the smile that threatens to tug at your lips, and you want to make sure they’re stood by your side. Because as long as you were near, then that’s all he needed.

Taehyung’s favourite type of falling is when you work up the courage to look into his eyes. Always shying away from eye-contact, always a little fidgety when you notice him looking at you for longer than deemed proper for just a friend. He liked your eyes because you’d always been expressive, ever so easy to read, and ever so pretty.

Your outer beauty had only ever been a bonus to Taehyung, and if he had to compare your beauty to any of his favourite things, then surely, he would compare you to a freshly bloomed flower.

✿ ✿ ✿

It was no secret to Taehyung that you hated your birthday.

You’d always seemed to withdraw yourself from everyone the week before the big day, and he’d asked once, why you held so much disdain towards it, and you’d simply shrugged. Telling him you never understood the hype and never felt the need to make it a big event out of it. You never minded celebrating your friends’ birthdays, always going to family parties with well-thought-out gifts and a little skip in your step, but never held the same when it came to you.

“What are you doing here?” you open the door wider when you see its only him, fingers fiddling with handle out of nervous habit— and he watches as you rock back and forth on your heels. Clearly not expecting his arrival, and he would have called, if he didn’t already know you were home.

It’s a little out of character for him to show up to your apartment unannounced, knowing you preferred when he told you at least a few hours in advance that he was coming over, or he wanted to take you out. And as much as you hated the niggling habit of overthinking, it had never put him off, simply moulding his life around your needs as if they were his own.

Because as long as you were happy, so was Taehyung. Another strange side effect of being in love with someone he supposes.

“Can you come with me?” his hands fall out the pockets of his coat, corners of his lips tugging up into a soft smile.

You blink up at him, eyebrows furrowing, “Like— right now?”

“Yeah” he nods, feeble guilt itching under his skin. Like an invisible rash that he couldn’t get rid of, irritable in a way he wants to pull his hair out.

His palm lays flat against your door, pushing it open wider to let himself in. You don’t seem all that worried as you close the door behind him as he slips his shoes off, coat slung over the arm of your couch before he’s making himself comfortable, running a hand through his windswept hair.

He turns to you, “Go get ready, I’ll wait here”

“Where are we going?” you call over your shoulder as you wander into your bedroom, uncaring as you leave the door open.

“My place” he bends forward, trying to catch sight of you as you scuttle around your room. Always fascinated by the way you move, often painfully unaware of your surroundings. Though he doesn’t mind all that much, tips of his fingers tingling each time his hands fall over your shoulders or holding you by the waist has he help guide you, your hand held in his, so you won’t get lost in a crowd, or simply just for the sake of holding you. Your skin like a magnet, drawing him closer whenever he was near, your very existence fascinating to him that he can never seem to get enough.

“Huh?” you pause in the doorway, head tilting, and Taehyung can’t help the smile that stretches onto his face, fondness blossoming around his heart, “Why didn’t you just call me over then?”

“I have a surprise for you” he waves you off, watching as you nod, hesitant, but a small part of his heart swells at the fact you trust him enough to play into his plan even if he can see you itching to ask a million other questions. Questions he would be more than happy to answer, though he doesn’t push. Simply lets you stew in your own thoughts, trusting that you’ll kept your faith in him, stepping forward if you truly needed anything.

“But why?” you throw another sweater over your shoulder, “What should I wear?”

Taehyung pushes himself up off the couch, wandering towards your bedroom—more than equipped in knowing your home, often acting like it was his own.

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, baby”

You flinch, not having expected him to be there when you had turned around, “What are we doing?”

“I told you it’s a surprise” he croons, picking up the clothes strewn across the floor.

He folds them into neat piles at the end of your bed— ready for you to put away later as you continue your search for something to wear. Knowing that if he weren’t to do it, they would be left blanketing your floor until you worked up the motivation to finally clean up. At least this way he’d gotten your least favourite part out of the way.

“But what if I’m overdressed, worse, what if I’m underdressed?” you turn back to look at him, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as Taehyung simply stares; never one to back away from prolonged eye-contact.

“Baby, I told you to wear whatever you’re comfortable with. We’re only going to my place, nowhere else if you don’t want to” he soothes, beckoning you over with a hand. And you follow, always so good for him.

You stand between his legs, looking down at Taehyung where he sits on the edge of your bed, “No matter what you wear, you’re pretty, yeah?”

Taking your hands into his own, fingers laced, Taehyung watches as your mouth opens at the gentle contact, closing abruptly when you can’t seem to find the right words to say. Mind whirring behind your eyes, and he worries he’d pushed you too far.

Hesitantly you nod, “Okay” you whisper, swallowing thickly as his thumb runs over the back of your hand.

“Well done” he squeezes your fingers before he’s nudging you back towards your closet.

He watches as you peek over your shoulder, not very subtle as you try and match what he’s wearing.

“How about we match today?” he suggests, watching the lingering anxiety leave your body as your shoulders deflate, eyes lighting up.

“Really?” you ask, grey sweatpants already held tightly in your hands and Taehyung smiles.

“Of course, baby”

✿ ✿ ✿

“Are your eyes still closed?” Taehyung asks, as he bends down, helping you slip your shoes off.

You hum, hands falling onto his shoulders to keep balance. And he suddenly becomes hyper aware of how close the two of you are, hands gentle as he holds onto your ankle, your warm skin under his fingertips electric as his heartrate picks up.

Your hands slide down his arms when he stands at full height, fingers loosely gripping onto his wrists as he pulls you further into his apartment; careful to tug you around the toys his dog had left strewn across the floor of the living room.

Your feet sink into Taehyung’s plush carpet, pitter patter of Yeontan running into the room at the sound of your giggles, warming Taehyung’s heart. Simple domesticity of the situation maybe something Taehyung had been craving; because when he had you like this, no semi high-end dining, no unobtainable expectations from the eyes of others. Simply you and him, where the world beyond his apartment meant nothing, because it didn’t matter where he was as long as he was with you.

“Here we go” Taehyung pulls his wrists from your hands, picking Tannie up, “Open your eyes, baby”

Taehyung watches as your eyes flutter open. You blink down at his coffee table, head tilting in confusion before you’re turning to him.

“What’s all this?” you ask, eyebrows furrowed.

It hadn’t been much, nothing like he would have truly planned if he didn’t know you had what could only be described as a weird hatred towards your birthday. He’d made sure to get your favourite cake, balloons taped to the walls, all those of your favourite colour—handpicked out of each pack. You eye the platter of sandwiches, and he has to hold onto Yeontan a little tighter as the dog spots whatever other of your favourite snacks he’s picked up that morning. All laid out in little bowls, where confetti had been scattered over the table like the petals of a rose.

“It’s your birthday” he urges, smile still tugging at his lips.

You nod, “I know that but, why—” you gesture to the cake, to the small giftbox, utterly overwhelmed by what you see, and Taehyung wonders briefly if he’d rocked your brain into overdrive.

“I thought we could celebrate together, I know you don’t really like your birthday, but I thought for once I’d do something for you, like you’ve done for me”

“You did all this, for me?”

And although this isn’t his best work, nice restaurant in the middle of the city ready to be called for a late reservation if you hadn’t liked what he’d prepared for you. Wallet tucked away in the pocket of his coat just in case he took you for a walk around the park where he would buy you all the treats your heart desired until your bellies were full, sleepy on the way home; and maybe he would offer to carry you.

“Of course” he nods, letting Yeontan hop onto the couch before he’s tugging you to sit at the coffee table. Knees pressed against one another as you sit adjacent to Taehyung.  

You peek into the cake box, “Shut up, you didn’t buy one of those really pretty lunchbox cakes” your look up at Taehyung, eyes wide and he only grins. You stare at it in awe, purple iced flowers climbing the sides of the cake, blooming in shades of lavender and violet in gradient. Where fondant leaves weaved through bunches of flowers like wild vines.

“This is for you” he pushes the wrapped box across the table towards you. Brown paper tied off with a pretty white ribbon—little white daisy pin stuck in the centre of the bow.

He watches as you shake it. Fingers delicate as you pull the ribbon apart, dropped in a small pile beside the box of your cake, and he only expects you plan to save it for later. Scraps of long forgotten art supplies hidden in the depths of your closet for when you really needed it. Always a little bit of a hoarder, though you like to blame it on sentiment.  

The tips of your fingers skim over the velvety box, a deep red with little golden stars embroidered into the fabric, “What is it?”

“Open it” his back falls against the couch, fingers thrumming across his thigh, anxious of your reaction.

You lift the lid of the box, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

“It’s so pretty” you murmur, head lifting to meet Taehyung’s gaze.

You watch him lift his hand; matching ring sat snug on his finger. Your gaze flickers down towards the ring in the box, “They’re matching?”

“Yeah”

The corners of your lips tug up into a smile, “You’re cute” you giggle, gentle as you pull the ring out of the box, sliding it onto your finger, the same one Taehyung had his on.

“You think so?” he leans forwards, eyebrows raising in question, and he watches as you swallow thickly, “Come on, don’t be shy now” his smile is lazy, a little cocky and you can’t seem to help the heat that tickles your cheeks red.

He watches you debate whether to stay silent or not, “Yes” you breathe, tongue slipping past your lips to wet them.

“Yes what?” he urges, revelling in the way you fidget in your spot—fingers itching to pull you closer into him, moulding the two of you into one being until he doesn’t know where you end, and he starts.

“I think you’re cute”

“I think you’re cute too” he smiles, deft fingers tucking his hair behind his ear.

“You what?” you splutter, “That’s not funny, Tae”

“It wasn’t meant to be” you watch as he sits up straight, careful as he takes your hands into his own, “Why would you think I’d joke about that?”

His eyebrows crease as you let out a long sigh, “Because well, you’re—you’re you and I’m just me”

“There’s nothing wrong with you” he shakes his head.

“I’m not perfect like you, Tae” you try to pull your hands from his, no real force behind the gesture, fingers barely slipping from his grasp.

“I’m not perfect” he laughs, leaning forwards like he wanted to tell you a secret, “You are though”

You blink, “I’m not” he watches as tears glaze over your eyes.

“Come on, baby, why’re you crying” he coos, gentle as he pushes your hair out of your face.

“Because I really like you, and I feel stupid” you admit, one hand still held in Taehyung’s as the other comes to wipe your face of the tears that cascade down your cheeks.

“I really like you too” Taehyung stands, manoeuvring his way around the table, falling to his knees beside you.

“No—not that kind of like. I like like you” you cover your face with your hands.

“Hey” he calls, “listen to me”

You snivel, daring peek out from behind your hands, a new wave of fresh tears glazing your cheeks shiny as he smiles, always so soft, always so reassuring.

“I like like you too, my baby” he laughs, barely there, but the puff of breath deflates his chest, “Haven’t I made it obvious enough?”

You shake your head, “Now I feel really stupid” you cry.

“No no no” he shakes his head, cupping your cheeks, “I clearly didn’t realise either”

You hiccup, “I’m sorry”

“What for?” his eyes flit between your own.

You frown, “Crying”

“Don’t apologize for that” his eyebrows crease, fond smile pulling at the corners of his lips, “Can I kiss you?”

He watches as your eyes widen a fraction, “Yes”

His thumb brushes away a lone tear when you close your eyes, watching as a sliver of peace washes over your face. And he understands, of course he does. All the built-up tension, nights of wondering if your feelings were to ever be reciprocated, if this budding love was one sided, if it could be more than friendship—all that doubt had evaporated. Exasperated whispers of how this would never work out, suddenly silent, mind and heart free. Pure unadulterated love soaring the skies like a dove let out of a cage with no plan of ever returning, the feeling of freedom, the freedom to love you, too addicting.  

Taehyung feels you smile into the kiss as his lips press against your own. Ever so soft, neither of you rushing.

Your arms slink around his shoulders, pulling his body closer to you as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. Your lips part, gentle gasp dripping off your tongue, tacky and sweet as his hands skim down your body, pulling you in between his legs.

Albeit reluctant, Taehyung pulls away, chest heaving for air as his heart hammers against his ribcage. Your fingers skim over your bottom lip.

“One more” you whisper, hands falling from Taehyung’s shoulders to cup his cheeks like he had your own.

“Okay” he nods, hands still firmly holding onto your hips as you press your chests together, head tilting. Your thumb brushes over his jaw when your lips meet, both a little surer, a little more confident in yourselves, Taehyung teasing as his tongue prods the seam of your lips.

You grant him access, embarrassed whine following a moan as his tongue slips into your mouth—any qualms about you not sharing his feelings bubbling into a fizzy confidence.

“Does this mean you’ll say yes to being my girlfriend?” he smiles down at you, lips a little kiss swollen and shiny.

“If that’s okay with you” you nod, eyes falling onto the ring on his finger, your own glinting in the light of the setting sun that spills through the window.

Taehyung’s feelings for you were akin to a flower.

A flower that had been in the budding stage for years, love disguised as vibrance, hidden away from your eyes as to not scare you away, attracting you like a bee only hoping you’d be happy with that he had to offer. A flower that was now in bloom, because really what it was missing was you. Just wholly you who adores Taehyung as much as he does you. Two flowers blooming in the same flower field where your stems intertwine, growth from here on out together rather than alone. Because even if your petals were the same as the rest of the flowers that grew around you, what you had was special; something none of the other flowers had—each other.  

“Guess this means we have a reason to celebrate your birthday every year” he leans forward, soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

🌱 feedback is always appreciated <3 and thank you for reading!

permanent tag list: @m1sss1mp @supernoonanyc

[the-east-art]

Ode to the Tree Lightning Struck - Wip part 3

Joey drives, Ness takes shotgun, and Sylvin sits in the backseat. It’s somehow more uncomfortable than the last time Sylvin recalls sitting here - sometime during the mad dash to resummon Arakiel to Sylvin before a demon could find her as an open vessel. Probably a year and a half ago now, give or take. The seats are made up of cheap faux-leather - which is to say plastic - that’s cracking and peeling in places. The car is an old Nissan that’s still kicking probably due to prayers - in fact, now that Sylvin is thinking about it, maybe due to prayers specifically to Arakiel. Joey and Ness don’t have a lot of money, and Sylvin is unsure if they have the knowledge required to keep the junker alive as long as it has been. It feels a little ironic that the hunters of supernatural phenomena drive around in a car that is basically a zombie, only living off of parts taken from different, newer models. 

Sylvin considers sharing the idea to the others, but the air of the car is still thick with tension and unwelcoming to Sylvin and any conversation she might bring. This discomfort is of her own creation. Some part of her wanted this outcome, but sitting in the silence of the car trying not to make the plastic squeak too loudly when she moves to adjust her position, that desire feels very far away. 

She alternates picking at the plastic of the seat and the loose threads from the holes in her jeans. They were a little big on her, and the bra a little small, and none of it was really her style, but clothes were clothes. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and Sylvin certainly felt like a beggar right now. No phone on her - she had the vague impression that it hadn’t ‘traveled’ well with Arakiel over the last four years, or that Arakiel just hadn’t seen a reason to keep track of it. No wallet either - she hadn’t had her purse on her when Arakiel had taken her as her vessel, so it was who knows where by now. Just her luck she’d look into her bank when she got a chance and find out her identity had been stolen EVEN MORE than it had by Arakiel and now she was in debt or something. 

In the front seat, Joey adjusts the music on her phone and her places it back in the ‘speaker’ - a glass cup that sits in the cup holder as a makeshift way to amplify the sound. It makes each of the songs adopt a tinny quality to them. 

The progress east was a combination of both reasons Sylvin had hypothesized: a mixture short days driving and a meandering direction. It felt like they were on some kind of a victory lap after saving the world - checking up on different people the pair had crossed paths with over the last four years. It made a kind of sense - see who was still kicking, pay respect to those who had died, and make sure that everyone that had been involved in the shitstorm knew that it was over.

Didn’t make Sylvin like it though. 

It made her feel like a child, being toted around by her parents and forced to sit off awkwardly on the sidelines while she was introduced to strangers. The entire affair was a lot like family reunions or church - back when Sylvin and her siblings would all stand slightly behind her mom, waiting for her to be done chatting about keylime pie recipes or whatever it was the moms discussed in church parking lots while their kids baked in the sun, reflecting off the dark asphalt. Those were the only instances where Sylvin actually envied the crazy Sunday hats the grandma’s wore. Sylvin and her three siblings would usually end up standing like dominos or some bizarre version of matryoshka dolls - line up so they were standing in eachothers shadows for at least a small reprieve from the heat. Atlas the unfortunate tallest of the bunch, bore the sunlight on his own. Or alternatively ran around the parking lot as a moving target, preventing the rest of them from using his shade. 

Just today they’d met up with 3 different people and 3 gravesites. Only one of the cemeteries had been planned - someone, a civilian, who had died on a job three years ago. The other two had been new deaths. A fellow hunter, vampire got the best of them. The other someone they had saved from the jaws of death already, took care of a poltergeist that had been hounding them. Didn’t matter - dead now - car crash. Bad luck. 

[otakugurl-11037]

Who Let Vampires Run Rock n' Roll?! Part 2!

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Trying this again because there's a dumb 4096 word limit. There's gonna be blood and biting. Plenty of intimacy too.

Part One.

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A little under 1,000 words.

It's Mai, not Mia. No matter how many times I misspelled it. 😭

Happy reading!

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I ran out of the venue as soon as the concert was over, avoiding any enthusiastic yet envious crowd members who were oh-so-enthralled by the little performance I put on with the band’s lead. 

I hid behind a wall that’s part of the labyrinth they call a parking lot.

He BIT me!! In front of all those people! Why?!

The heat in my face escalated as I envisioned that scene. And those little glances and winks he would sneak at me afterward. And him holding me…

I shake my head and slap my cheeks twice. 

No, I gotta stay calm. Stay calm and find my car so that I can get outta here…

Following the faded-out signs that lead to the higher floors, I feel as though my legs might collapse before I even make it to the car. Exhaustion weighed on me as if it was a truck tire on my shoulders. 

My desire to go home and sleep was much stronger than my desire to lay down on a concrete ground to rest(and possibly get run over). I continued to walk until I finally found my car. I unlocked it and went inside, closing the door behind with a thud that echoed throughout the whole place.

I attach my Alistair keychain to my keys, turn on the car, and drive out of the parking lot. 

My bed and I shall be reunited like lost lovers.

•••

A melody plays from afar, waking me up. The sunlight hitting my face tells me that I should’ve been awake a long time ago. I get out of bed with a slouch as I rub my eyes, not fully alert just yet. 

I walk over to my dresser, correcting a fallen shirt strap before grabbing my phone. Mai’s photo lights up as the song plays.

She’s calling me now? She never calls me this early…

I answer the call.

“Hello,” I say in a groggy voice before being interrupted.

“AAAHH OH MY GOD, GIRLIE!! OH MY GOD,” she screamed, brutally murdering my sleepiness.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down, I just woke up,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on? WHAT’S GOING ON??? How can you have that happen to you and NOT remember?!”

Oh.

“Well, about that,” I start.

“HE KISSED YOU,” Mai cut me off again, overly excited for me. “See, I TOLD he would! I’m so happy for you, girlie! Happy and jealous, like-AAH, you’re so lucky! I would kill to get that!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said again, curbing her enthusiasm. “How’d you know that? I didn’t send you that video last night.”

Also, he did NOT kiss me. Most kisses don’t involve a direct chomp to the throat.

“Somebody recorded it and posted it online,” Mai responded in a calmer tone. “When I woke up, it was in my recommended and I had to see it for myself.”

“Oh my God…”

I move the phone away, placing my face in the sanctuary of the palm of my hand. I bring it back, with an idea in mind.

“Could you please send it to me,” I ask. “There’s something I wanna see again.”

Mai giggled on the other line.

“Sure!”

‘“Mai(Bestie ❤ ️ ❤ ️) has sent ‘1’ attachment.”’

I clicked on the notification to see the video-- “Lucien Kissed a Girl and He Liked It!!”

Oh brother…

I look at the current view count- 100k views?! I thought Crimson Nocturne was a small band. 

“I’m going to watch the video, I’ll call you back, Mai.”

“Okay,” Mai said. “But you better tell me how the concert was later!”

“I will, see you later!”

“See you!”

She hung up, and with that, I tapped on the video to play it.

The video started with Lucien screaming while the band played. Of course, I’m there in his arms, looking a little shy. 

Soon, they went to the breakdown when Lucien whispered to me. 

I nodded like the fool I was and then…

Smooch?!

Instead of the bite, it showed him kissing me directly on the lips and the crowd going crazy. 

What?

I slow down the video to 0.25x to take another look at it. I refuse to believe that he committed such an act.

Even when it was slowed down, I couldn’t hide from the un-truth. His lips just slowly met mine. 

It’s too good-looking to have been edited in. It’s too natural to have been slapped on with artificial intelligence…but how?

How did they fake a kiss?!

I looked into the comment section to see if anybody else remembered it differently.

“omg i’m so jealous 😭it should’ve been meee”

“We got Lucien making out with a girl before a certain sixth installment of a popular game.”

“Ooh Lysander was gawking at them!!”

The rest of the comments were of similar caliber except for one, which has been severely disliked.

“There’s no way this was a kiss. This whole band is weird and we should take action by looking into them further.”

It’s different…but there’s no real proof that they saw the bite. 

Did I somehow hallucinate the bite? Was the piercing of his fangs as they entered my throat just a figment of my imagination? Maybe the sound of my blood, my life source, being swallowed by him was just the wind? 

It can’t be. Yet at the same time, it seems like the most plausible thing to believe in. 

I mean, people would call me crazy if I said otherwise. 

I will post part three RIGHT after this is posted! Gaah!

[lord-ofthe-frogs]

LOVING the idea of a sci-fi space travel story meets like ancient forest horror type trope.

Like. This is a routine scouting mission, you are flying closer into this planet because it was detected on scanners as being life supporting (obviously- you could have told that from a picture, the whole place is covered in green) but the foliage is so dense that from standard distance, the scanners couldn’t get a full read of the land (weird, that usually isn’t a problem, but some places flora do have weird ways of incorporating materials that really shouldn’t be in a plant, it isn’t entirely unprecedented). Could also be- like, lead in the atmosphere or something. Well- almost definitely not. Stuff doesn’t really grow that big in an environment that’s anything other than right in the golden zone, so it’s probably nothing like that. Still- this isn’t one you’d want to risk going no-suit for.

You’re swooping in closer for some recon- because, Dagnabit, you still aren’t getting clear readings- and- with what this place seems to be so far, the chances of intelligent life (intelligent enough to interfere with your ship, at least) are incredibly low. Only- suddenly, your scanner is detecting things. But- it’s totally on and off, like these leaves are completely blocking your signal somehow. Heat maps show nothing too special- heat seems to get trapped under the foliage somewhat, magnetism mapping seem to show signs of metals nearby, but nothing too out of place- perhaps a ridge.

But there’s some movement, which doesn’t seem to match wind direction. You’re too focused on checking your side panels to catch what happens as suddenly you’re being dragged off course- the carriage of the ship scraping against the plant matter as you careen into the undergrowth below. Which each layer of leaves and vines you clear, less and less light penetrates through. By the time your ship hits the ground, you’ve pretty much lost all trace of sunlight, despite the sun having been pretty much directly above you. Instead- the grove you’ve dropped into is lit only by bioluminescent fungi and the like- which stretch outward from what you realize are impossibly thick plant roots.

As your engine sputters and stops, you go into damage control mode. Okay- you have the materials to last you, you shouldn’t have to forage around for food or water any time soon- but you’re now underneath the foliage that had been blocking your scanner and, frankly, unless you find some way to get your communication gear back up there- or get this ship back up and running- you’re pretty much just gonna be stranded here until you die. Not great- but, you probably have the tools to get into it. I mean. How tall could these plants even be?

So, you check all your systems- try fixing up the systems and engine- and.. well, even if you did get her back up into the sky- there’s no way she’d make it through the kind of hyperdrive it would take to get you back to the nearest settlement. And, well… you’d rather die here than in the empty void of space, really.

With that set- you secure the ship, double check with all your crew-mates to make sure nobody was harmed- status reports, full medical checks- suit checks- luckily, nobody seems all to worse for wear. All that foliage must have slowed you down somewhat, thankfully. At least- in the upper levels. There are no real branches or anything down here- just.. fungi, really. From- what you can see from the ship. Not that you expect to find anything else. Smaller life forms, at the most- you don’t know of much else that could subsist on the sort of materials available down here. But- still, always to err on the side of caution. Evolution is a wild thing, after all- people were always finding new crazy things about it.

After about a day of just making sure everything inside the ship is secure, and planning out your next steps- you and a few of the crew take a venture out, to test your surroundings. It seems like your ship ended up nestled between to giant roots- and as you step off from them, you find that most of the ground underfoot is really just a mix of root, mushroom, and dirt. Rich dirt, at least.

This place could be a real fantasy looking environment if the trees (well- they seem to be trees, at least. You’d been taught not to be too quick to categorize foreign planet organisms.. but if the shoe fits,) were more.. reasonably sized. You start setting up your plans for scaling these giants- an organized system, checkpointing along the way. It’s practically like rock climbing, with the size and hardiness of these things. Eventually you climb up to a chunk where the bark has been carved through, exposing softer, young material (ignoring the question of how it had been dug through like that- might have been hit by your ship on the way down- or maybe there’s some type of creature here that eats this stuff, and had been chowing on it for a while.

The idea that some single creature had left it there in passing is quickly barred from your mind- nothing is that big). When you dig your climbing pick into this softer ‘wood’- it sort of sticks. So much so that you nearly fall off attempting to pull it back out. Sliding your gloved hand along the surface of the tool, though, it doesn’t seem to have any sort of residue or stickiness- so you brush it off as maybe just the tool sinking a little too far into wood that was clearly softer than you expected it to be. You try once more, determined to make some good progress on this task tonight- only for it to get stuck again. This time, you actually can’t manage to yank it out. You try again- and again, but it’s totally sunk in there. One climbing tool shorter, pretty exhausted by now, and starting to get very hungry- you decide it’s time to call it a day for this task. You begin the grueling task of making it back down- and join back with those still at the ship. The other two you set out with originally are still back at the ‘tree’- but the two of them happen to be a species more hardy than you, and they had been working on a system to create an accessible way up- rather than just scouting to see how high they could climb as you had been. It would certainly take longer- much longer- but it may help in the long run.

Anyway. You touch back in at the ship and take some rest, assuring yourself you’ll continue working to figure things out in the morning. Not that ‘morning’ was really a relevant term right now, considering the constant dark. The ship lights were still functional, at least- as well as those built into your suit. Things seem to be going fine. Nothing immediately dire- the only prospective issue so far seems to be how to get up high enough to deliver a signal quickly enough that you might be retrieved before supplies run out. Not that that should be an issue- after all, all fleet ships keep highly stocked at all times, and, as long as nothing changes too much- you should be set to survive for a good long while yet. At least a few hundred cycles.

Waking in the ‘morning’ to the same darkness as you’d fallen asleep to makes you a bit jealous of those few crew members which were nocturnal by nature- they must feel right at home here.

—

About a week in- crewmates are complaining of feeling like they’re ‘being watched’. A front of fog had set in around the third day, making further exploration difficult. You honestly almost write it off as the effects of stress and being in the dark and stuck in the same place when a few people start complaining about noises- that is, until you get so spooked you have to turn your team around after you all swore you heard something like a voice coming from the fog beyond (nothing you could decipher. The wind through the foliage, maybe? Is that a reasonable explanation? You can’t really think about the science of it right now.. but .. that was probably it.)

Still, you forge on, and the next day you set out again. It’s all standard, really. You haven’t even run into any fauna yet, why would you let a little whistling of the winds disuade you? (Not that you would really see anything, if there was something to be seen. This fog is too thick, now, you’ve had to set up a line from the ship to your place on this tree just to prevent you getting lost.)

You’re a traveler of space. What could one little forest planet really have against you, who’s toured tens of barely documented other planets?

You decide to start keeping a journal.

—

About two months in, things start going wrong. You’re starting out another climb, when your pick slips and you’re suddenly falling. You get tangled up in your rope- and you end up getting your suit ripped one of your pick blades- breaking the seal on your air. Thankfully- it seems… breathable. In fact, when you run another check to make sure you aren’t secretly gonna get horrible sickness after a while of breathing this stuff- you find that it’s actually pretty similar to that of your desirable conditions. In fact, it seems to actually be more suitable for you than the ‘universally breathable’ air they usually have on multi-species ships.

People continue to complain of weird feelings- like eyes on them, or this deep instinct that they ‘shouldn’t be here’ or whatever- you keep brushing it off the best you can- these sort of conditions for so long can really impact someone, especially those who are adapted for more sunny conditions. Nothings gone so wrong that you worry about losing anyone, at least. So far, everyone has been hanging on.

One day when you come back from some recon, everyone is agreeing that they heard something in the distance.

You find a couple smaller creatures, bugs, you’ve been logging them as you go along. Not too much fauna to go off, just yet.

Then- the ship starts deteriorating. The fuels somehow been sapped- you swear that root didn’t wrap so closely around the ship when you first arrived- some branch debris fell down a couple days ago, and now half the chasis has been wrecked- the backup universal air got hit, which is seriously going to impact how long you’ll last if the air doesn’t prove breathable for the others- and the lights in the operational parts of the ship have begun flickering on occasion.

Along the next few weeks, around half of the crew stops replenishing their air tanks and just resorts to braving the air around them- just hoping that no airborne contaminants come around. For a planet so dominated by flora, there’s actually a pretty reasonable balance of C02 to 02. The fungus, you reason.

After about month more in these straits- heating becomes an issue to face. You’ve run out of fuel to keep going on as you were- and some energy needs to be saved in case- so, ensured by the oxygen ratio in the air that it won’t result in anything too catastrophic- you and the crew decide that testing for flammable materials is in order. You find that the bark of the ‘trees’ works alright enough- though, you don’t have enough smaller foliage to make any sort of easy burning. Still- it works somewhat. So, you set up for wood-chopping shifts, setting out to collect bark and flammables. You’re not sure how well it’ll do if that fog rolls back in.. but it works for now.

Then, one day.. the person set out doesn’t come back.

Weeks pass. The paranoia amongst the crew worsens. Someone swears they saw something moving in the distance- one claims they heard distant footsteps, loud and booming, when they were out scouting.

You’re climbing again, when you see the faint imprint of glowing fungi parallel with you in the distance. Passing. Something this tall, moving along-

You don’t mention it to the crew.

Eventually- people start encountering things.

You lose a few more crew-mates.

Slowly but surely, you’ve begun to realize that there are things in these woods that you just don’t understand.

These things are much older than you.

This place is much older than your science.

No planet should survive long enough for this sort of evolution to come to fruition- but, for whatever reason, this one did.

And you are here, now- disturbing things which predate you by millennia, realizing-

That all you consider to be the standards of probability- these standards you’ve been so sure of- simply don’t extend to a place like this.

All this time, you’ve been operating on averages- and this place… this place is different.

[translations-dark-matter]

Living as an Extra in an Omegaverse novel

Chapter 68

Why is he so upset that he can't give me a gift?

The first thing that came to mind was a question.

It's understandable if you chose a gift as a way to win someone's favour. It was in that context that I gave Yoo Jin-ha a gift.

But now I was a little confused.

Isn’t this a bit excessive?

"It's not like he's making up some lame excuse..."

He just went crazy because he wanted to give it to me. So, he said those things.

"What if I reject it?"

"You should think carefully about that."

Shin Tae-oh pointed to the coat with his eyes.

"If you reject this, there's no one else to wear it. I threw away the receipt."

"If you just give me the card, I can go and get a refund. I go there often and get along well with the staff. They'll probably do it for me."

"A refund... is that possible?"

"Yes."

"But what if they change all the staff there?"

"Even so, it's still possible."

Among the items Shin Tae-oh had purchased over the years, there were a few that were quite hefty for me to handle. Every time that happened, I would go to a familiar staff member and ask for a refund.

"It's definitely possible."

It was when Se-hyeon was about to take the coat.

"What about my feelings?"

"...."

Se-hyeon looked at Shin Tae-oh while holding the coat. Coincidentally, Shin Tae-oh also turned his gaze, and their eyes met.

"My feelings can't be refunded."

Se-hyeon raised his arm. Shin Tae-oh, who had spoken with a serious expression, felt a slight pang.

Seeing the faint sadness in Shin Tae-oh's eyes, which had sent shivers down his spine, Se-hyeon realized what he had done.

He knew it all along.

Every time Shin Tae-oh had casually brushed off the rejections of his gifts, Se-hyeon knew that it wasn't something insignificant. Yet, Se-hyeon had hurt him despite knowing that Tae-oh wanted to do something nice for him.

Se-hyeon avoided looking at the coat. It was ironic how he kept recalling the past, but his thoughts kept wandering. When Yoo Jin-ha rejected a gift, Se-hyeon took care of the situation. If Shin Tae-oh asked Se-hyeon to keep it and use it, he would use it, but if not, he would go through the refund process.

This time, since the gift had come to him, he didn't think he would handle it... but...

"Boss."

In the heavy atmosphere, Se-hyeon called out to Shin Tae-oh. He looked into Shin Tae-oh's eyes, which were now directed at him. If they were full of resentment before, now there was a sense of resignation.

"Thank you."

Se-hyeon accepted the coat and immediately put it on right there. He ignored the wind gently rustling his hair and the sunlight warming his entire body.

From the moment Se-hyeon saw it, he noticed that it was the same coat I had looked at last time. He had liked it quite a bit, but the price had prevented him from considering buying it. However, now that he put it on, it was indeed...

"It's lightweight and warm."

It was lighter and had a softer texture compared to the other coats I usually wore. The cashmere material was said to be good, but it looked even better in person.

It hadn't been long since he put it on, but it felt like his body was already heating up. It stood out with its bright grey colour, but it was also beautiful in that regard.

"It suits you well."

"Thank you."

He even carefully removed the brand label and put it in his pocket. Se-hyeon, thinking that he had shown his gratitude by accepting the gift, composed his expression.

Now it was his turn to receive what he wanted.

"I also want to give you a gift. That's the condition for me accepting this coat."

"A gift?"

Shin Tae-oh asked curiously and caressed his tie.

“I got this last time.”

He wears that tie every time he mentions it. When is a day when you don’t wear it?

"I know. And I also know that this coat is incredibly expensive."

"You shouldn't include the price in the gift. It becomes burdensome between the giver and receiver."

Se-hyeon smiled outwardly at Shin Tae-oh's instructive tone but internally felt a sense of disbelief.

So, the reason he casually bought expensive gifts and gave them was because of this.

"I know. I also know that if I try to keep up with you, my two legs will tear apart."

In my circumstances, I can't even keep up with Shin Tae-oh's footsteps.

"So, I'll give it to you after 12 months."

"Um... Well, even if it's a year, it feels strange for some reason."

"If you agree to receive it at that time, then I'll accept it as well."

Setting aside Shin Tae-oh's hesitant reaction, Se-hyeon brought out a blank piece of paper.

"I would appreciate it if you could write something here. I want to promise that my words to you, Boss, are not just empty words."

"You're more proactive than me?"

"If possible, I would like to use this as a written agreement for the repayment I mentioned earlier."

As Shin Tae-oh held a pen, ready to write anything, he paused.

“This is my repayment for the favour of moving my father to a better hospital room.”

“Isn’t that a separate issue?”

“Since you didn’t write them separately, I’m going to write them down all at once. “If the boss writes it down, I will document it.”

When I thought that it would be a good idea to end all financial relationships at this point, Shin Tae-oh nodded while wondering how he should accept it.

"How should I write it?"

"Please write that you won't give gifts worth more than a million won from now on."

"Am I writing a contract right now?"

Shin Tae-oh let go of the pen on the paper, expressing his dissatisfaction, and Se-hyeon had plenty to say as well.

"The VIP room and the coat are more than enough. I feel burdened too."

"It's natural to feel burdened when considering the price. Besides, I didn't just give you such things..."

"I appreciated the powdered grain. Anyway, please write that you won't give them anymore."

Se-hyeon tapped the paper as if he had no intention of compromising.

“You're not writing a contract to repay me, you're saying you're going to tighten my leash. Should I write it like that?”

[TL note: “tighten leash” coz now he can't spend a lot of money on Se-hyeon's gifts.]

"Yes, by writing this, you're doing a good deed for your future spouse."

"...Spouse?"

"Saving money frugally is a significant advantage."

As Se-hyeon gently persuaded, Shin Tae-oh obediently continued writing. Observing him writing almost everything, Se-hyeon revealed his inner thoughts.

"Gifts should not be a burden to the other person."

"..."

"Gifts should make both the giver and the receiver happy. Please think of it in that sense."

Se-hyeon took the paper and inserted it between empty files. With this, he prevented Shin Tae-oh from bringing up various things.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment inside, Se-hyeon bit his lip to hide it and turned away.

‘How can I persuade that fireball?’

I won't let it go. Taenyang.

Ignoring Shin Tae-oh's gaze fixed on his back, Se-hyeon left the office and placed the tablet on the desk. He had prepared the approval files to be delivered personally and went to find Lee Jin-ho. Inside the room, noticing that I was wearing a coat, Lee Jin-ho's gaze was fixed on the coat.

"I'll be out for a moment."

"What's the matter?"

Seeing Lee Jin-ho, who seemed to be checking if something serious had happened, I shook my head. It was nothing serious.

"I'm going to withdraw my 12-month fixed deposit."

And also to test the performance of the coat I received from Shin Tae-oh.

***

Ha Min-hyuk saw Ha Jin-seong, who was present during the handover process. Ever since he told him to hand over the project, Ha Jin-seong had not rushed or pressured him in any way, patiently waiting for Min-hyuk's decision.

It was an indifferent reaction as if it didn't matter even if Min-hyuk didn't hand over.

He was the stepbrother who always caused trouble outside and was disliked. Min-hyuk had been concerned and on edge, wondering if Ha Jin-seong would try to take over the company's shares and kick him out at the first opportunity, but now he seemed so docile...

"The world has become quiet."

For the first time in my life, peace has found its way to me.

People must live this kind of life, right? To live a comfortable life without constantly being on guard, to meet people without worry. Ha Min-hyuk, who has experienced such a life recently, felt a strange sense of greed.

I wanted to pursue this peaceful moment further. I wanted to spend ordinary days working during the day and going on dates with Jin-ha in the evening.

To do that...

"If you haven't made a decision yet, get up."

Ha Jin-seong spoke in a tired voice, checking if there were any lingering concerns about the project. He seemed somewhat drained, with his usually sensitive temperament noticeably softened.

"What if I don't hand it over?"

"Then it's your problem for being foolishly stubborn."

"What if I do?"

Upon Ha Min-hyuk's casual question, Ha Jin-seong fell silent. His expression twisted, and his mind seemed to be in turmoil.

"What do you hope to gain from this?"

"If you're going to talk nonsense, just leave."

Ha Jin-seong turned his chair, raising his hand, deliberately avoiding showing his face to Ha Min-hyuk.

"Whether this project succeeds or not doesn't matter. But what's the reason you insist on taking it?"

"Why should I tell you?"

Ha Jin-seong retorted with an irritated expression.

"Because I think you already know."

Ha Min-hyuk knew the impact it would have on Ha Jin-seong if he handed this over to him.

Both men cared about Ahn Se-hyeon. One person seemed to be expressing it openly without the need to hide their feelings, while the other person still seemed to be unaware of it completely...

Who should I support in this situation?

Shin Tae-oh? Ha Jin-seong?

Even if I excluded my own feelings, it was inevitable for me to lean more towards Shin Tae-oh. After all, Shin Tae-oh was a much better man than the devious Ha Jin-seong.

If that was the case, it would be beneficial for Shin Tae-oh if Ha Jin-seong didn't hover around Ahn Se-hyeon.

Ha Min-hyuk organized his thoughts and spoke up.

"I'll hand it over."

Giving Ha Jin-seong a chance to stay away from Ahn Se-hyeon's surroundings.

Ha Min-hyuk signed the document, putting his name on it. With this, the project was handed over to Ha Jin-seong.

The reason for giving Ha Jin-seong an opportunity, even though I considered Shin Tae-oh to be better, wasn't anything significant.

"It will lead to a quicker decision."

Perhaps Ahn Se-hyeon could completely change the situation.

Prev / Next

[stoptellinglieslois]

Principal of pleasure part 6

Clark & Dick are at the cabin and spending the weekend enjoying the morning after. 

Superman x Nightwing pairing

Dick

The smell of bacon and eggs slowly woke me up I didn’t move myself to much my ass hurt so much we did it all night long like we we’re in heat.

I turned slowly to see Clark watching me from the small stove frying breakfast he had a sexy smile on his face.

I have never seen him sport that kind of smile before in my life and it was directed towards me.

Sunlight illuminated him like a god of the sky he didn’t have any clothes on it is Saturday morning and the sun decided to show itself after all this crazy snow fall. I moved slowly and went for my bag on the floor not trying to do sudden movements because I’m so sore.

I went through it and found my cell I turned it back on and the messages and calls swarmed my inbox.

One message from Jason telling me how I was doing and that he will see me sometime this week.

The other messages are from Damian and they are all voice mail what did he want ? I put the phone to my ear.

I clicked on the first message. “Grayson where are you I called you seven times why are you not picking up the phone.” I was kinda put off guard he sounded so worried and anxious. 

I click on the next message. “Hey Grayson call me when you get this message.” And it ended like that and he sent me ten others like this.

I turned and Clark was still looking at me this time a curious expression on his face. “Morning I’m just gonna wash up.” I said to him he smiled and turned back to the stove.

I already had nothing on so I hopped in the tube I turned the water on and it was ice cold I yelled at the first spray of icy cold water to touch my skin. I heard a warm jovial laugh as the cream colour shower curtain shielded me from the source of the laughter. 

The water adjusted itself to a warmer temperature and I relaxed under its spray.

I thought about Damian’s voice mail I wanted to text him and tell him where I was but that would be dumb and I wasn’t gonna do that this was Bruce son. He had the same mind like Bruce the same instinct.

I remember Damian was watching us when were at Clark’s house last January, I could see his expression very intense and in thought watching us.

When he looked at me he reminded of Bruce when he saw something and wouldn’t put it down or let go for the life him. It was that made my stomach turn in knots.

Forget seeing too much for his young age Damian knows too much at his age to question me about this.

But I couldn’t possibly believe all that and assume he knows that’s crazy.

I washed up quickly and took a burgundy towel from my bag and dried myself off. Clark was still cooking putting bread in the toaster so that’s when I decided to text Damian.

{What’s up what do you want you left me a lot of message’s bro.} and as soon as I sent it my phone buzzed in my hand.  

{Where are you ?}

I answer him back he was acting suspicious and the knots came back in full swing.

{I’m at home)

(No your not I'm at your house)

What he’s crazy. 

{I don’t believe you take a picture.}

And he sent me a picture of the inside of my apartment and the knots tightened inside of me.  

{Just tell me how you're with please.}

I breathed hard and I turned away from Clark how’s back was turned, Busying himself with the food the sound of frying and the small coffee machine made the background noise more intensifying as I stood there in shock.

{Can I talked to you later.}

{No.}

{Damian why are on me like this just let me be ok I will call you later.} 

{What game are you playing Grayson.}

{I’m not playing any game I don’t play games ever.}

{Then what about Miss Gordon what about her then what will you tell.}

I needed to turn off the phone that will stop all the questions with Damian I couldn’t do this right now.

I sat on the bed and my cell fell on the floor cracked on impact by accident slipping out of my grasp.

A shift on the bed as it tipped to one side all I saw in front of me was a plate of bacon and eggs toast and coffee hovering in front of me I lost my appetite as soon as I saw the food I was to in shock of what Damian had just learned.

the end of part 6 next is part 7 

Thank you for reading

[casualfruit]

I did it

Today was too damn hot. It was dry heat, which was certainly better than humidity, but that didn’t change the fact that Columbo felt like he had been dropped in the middle of the Sahara Desert. At 80 degrees he had been forced to remove his beloved beige raincoat; at 90 degrees he’d had to take off his blazer as well. Now it was 108 degrees and his tie was tugged loose around a limp shirt collar, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He had already undone his top button, and considered undoing the next, but decided against it. He didn’t adhere to the sharp-and-clean image that his colleagues preferred, but he had to maintain some semblance of professionalism.

Columbo glanced down at his watch and groaned. How could it already be 3:28? They had been staking out this spot for nearly ten hours without any sign of the suspect, and he had a feeling it would be at least a couple more hours before anything happened. He could only spend so long turning the case over and over in his mind before it started to drive him crazy.

“Lieutenant!” came a voice from behind. He looked up to see a red-faced sergeant jogging toward him. “Lieutenant, the Captain says we’re being relieved. Another group is coming to take over the watch. Says he doesn’t want us dying of heatstroke.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” he said, a cool wave of relief washing over him. “Tell the Captain I appreciate his concern. Oh, and tell him to get somebody to check out those bushes over there—those ones a little ways from the car wreck, see? I just noticed they look a bit rustled, you know, like somebody might’ve dragged something big through there.”

“Yessir, I’ll tell him,” said the sergeant, already jogging back to the rest of the group. Clearly Columbo wasn’t the only one desperate for reprieve from the unforgiving California sun.

• • •

Whoever had invented the cold water tap was a genius, he decided. Normally a cold shower was enough to wash off a blazing hot day, but a mild case of hyperthermia was the least of his problems. This case was one of the worst he’d seen in a long time—a young woman had been found dead in a nearby botanical garden, stabbed eight times in the back. She had been a rising star in the botany world, already having discovered two new species of cactus at only 24 years old. Apparently she had been working on a third discovery when she was attacked. All the clues lead in different directions, and all the suspects had rock-solid alibis. Lieutenant Schofield insisted it had to be her brother, but Columbo was convinced there was something odd about how her coworker had described the night of the incident—

“No,” he said aloud. “No more solving. Right now, I’m just relaxing. That’s all. I am not gonna solve a thing until tomorrow.”

With that, he lowered himself into the tub and let the cold water envelop him. The effect was instantaneous; all the aches and pains in his body began to melt away. Forget a pool, this was how you beat the heat. The next few minutes were spent scrubbing away all the sweat and dust that had built up over the day, followed by lathering up his hair with shampoo and dunking his head underwater to wash it out. Finally, when he felt sufficiently clean, he leaned back and let himself settle in for a nice long soak.

If only his wife was here, and if only they had a bathtub big enough for two—alright, sure, if only they had a little side table with a couple of martinis—then he’d really have it all. They’d make ambling conversation about this and that, he’d tell silly jokes and she’d laugh like bell chimes and sunlight, and then their gentle touches would start to turn needy, getting closer and closer until her warm body was wrapped around him while he kissed her everywhere he could reach—

If only.

Columbo sighed. It might not be as good as his fantasy, but he could still make do with what he had.

He slid a hand into the water, tracing down his chest and over his stomach, the other holding onto the lip of the tub. Take it slow… no, slower than that… he wanted to savor this luxury while he had the chance. Then again, there could be a breakthrough in the case at any minute, and he’d be called away before he had the chance to finish. Alright then, speed it up—but just a little. No need to rush.

His fingers wrapped loosely around the base of his cock, already at half mast, and he began stroking along the shaft with no particular urgency. The cool water couldn’t touch the fire that was building low in his belly as he kept his strokes even and slow. He closed his eyes, letting himself sink in a little more as he tightened his grip. There had been so many cases in the past month that he’d barely had time to take care of himself, and now he had all this pent up energy begging for release.

He kept dragging his hand along the length of his cock, his breaths coming quick and shallow. Every animal instinct he had was demanding that he keep going, faster, faster, don’t hold back, jump to that rush of bliss now, but he refused to give in just yet. If he came now it wouldn’t be enough. He had to be patient in order to get real satisfaction.

A shiver ran through him as he rubbed his thumb over the head of his cock. He was getting close, like a rubber band about to snap, but he forced himself to keep pace. He had to hold out as long as possible.

His other hand, as if by its own will, let go of the tub and began fondling one of his nipples. The first time his wife had done that, he came in a matter of seconds. But that was a long time ago, and he had since built up stamina to ride out that delicious sensation. A soft whine pushed out of his throat.

Fuck it all—fuck patience and self denial—he needed this so badly. He rolled his nipple between his forefinger and thumb, sending a bolt of electricity straight to his core, while the hand around his cock started moving faster, the motion becoming sharper and more uneven as he got closer to climax. Finally, as the tension became unbearable, he gave in. One, two, three strokes, and all at once his body lit up with white-hot ecstasy.

Columbo lay there for a few moments, savoring the muted waves of pleasure still lapping at his senses. He needed to do this more often, that was for sure.

In the next room over, a phone began to ring. He came to with a jolt. Had he been about to fall asleep? As annoying as the interruption was, it was probably for the best—he’d heard about people falling asleep in the bath and drowning. With a groan, he forced himself to get up and grab a towel. No doubt something had happened with the case, and his presence was required immediately. Hopefully it would be wrapped up soon, and he could do some self care a little more often.

If I wrote Columbo smut would anyone read it

[eddie-sweetheart]

🏕 Camp Lovers Lake - Chapter Four 🏕

An Eddie Munson x Female Reader summer camp story. Set just before the beginning of season 3 of Stranger Things, with a few diversions from the original plot of the series.

🏕 Chapters List

Pairing and tropes • Eddie Munson x Henderson Female Reader - fluff, forced proximity, slightly slow burn, summer camp clichés ♥︎

Summary • June, 1985. Close to the city of Hawkins, Indiana, the placid waters of Lovers Lake stand as the perfect background for the homonymous summer camp, where you’re about to be a counselor for the last time before senior year and then, hopefully, college. Your brother Dustin Henderson won’t be with you this year, as he’s chosen to attend Camp Know Where until July - but with your best friend Robin Buckley at your side and the unexpected addition of Steve Harrington to your duo, the upcoming months seem to promise endless fun and exciting adventures nonetheless. However, as you get closer to Eddie Munson, resident metalhead and drug dealer who’s been forced by his uncle to work at Camp Lovers Lake after another missed graduation, your plans for the summer might have to go in a completely different direction.

Warnings • Cursing, possible mentions and/or depictions of violence, sexually suggestive language. Having no idea where this is going myself, you’ll need to be 18+ to read this fic just in case!

Chapter notes • Finally!!! I'm sorry for the delay, but it's been a crazy week and I kept coming up with new scenes that I wanted to include sooo this one needed some extra time! Hope you like it and hope it makes sense lol happy reading lovelies ✨

Chapter word count: 7.9k

🌹 Masterlist 🌹

Someone wise once said that mornings are for coffee and contemplation. Add a little bit of extra sleep and that’s the heavenly combination you’d usually be craving as soon as the alarm rings, especially on school days. But not today, apparently.

Last night, after the hike in the summer heat drained you of most of your energies, you drifted to sleep almost immediately after dinner, the sounds of crickets chirping and Robin’s low chatter lulling you into unconsciousness. It was a long, dark, and peaceful sleep, without any kinds of dreams - none that you remember anyways, now that the warm sunlight welcomes you back into another morning at camp.

It must be quite early, because you can still hear Robin’s soft snoring and deep breaths below you as you roll in the white cotton sheets and turn towards the window across the room. You can’t see the sky from where you’re lying, but judging from the light that is growing warmer and more intense by the minute, it’s clearly going to be another hot, sunny day.

You check the wristwatch that you keep hanging on the frame of the bed, and find out that it’s 7 am. Breakfast won’t be ready until 8:30, so you decide to wait a little longer in bed, your legs now free from the sheets and leaning against the old wooden wall of the cabin. A solitary sun ray travels across the room and reaches you, drawing a glimmering streak on your pj top as speckles of dust twirl in its light. 

You check your watch again: 7:03. 

You don’t know why, but you really can’t stay still for much longer - your body refuses to lie down and something inside you feels impatient, and fluttery. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept so well and soundly that you’ve completely recharged your energies, but what’s sure is that today you’re feeling more excited than usual to get up, live the day, do things… see people. 

It almost clicks right there and then, when a small smile cracks through your lips while you play with the dusty air with one of your hands, making it pass back and forth through the glimpse of sunlight hovering above your bed. But, somehow, the excitement suddenly turns into some kind of uncomfortable bitterness, which makes you drop your hand on the mattress with a sigh.

After a few more restless minutes, you shake the feeling off and decide to get up early, for once. Mr. Smithson is surely at the Headquarters already, so you might get this chance to talk to him about Tim and Jason Carver’s brother - a topic that, now that you think about it, it’s better to be addressed as low-key as possible. 

Being as silent as you can (stealthy like a ninja, Steve would say), you climb down your bed, get dressed, quickly scribble a note for Robin to tell her that you’ve gone out and that you’ll see her at breakfast, and you finally sneak out of the cabin. 

The camp is silent, except for the relaxing sounds of nature. You realize that you’ve likely never experienced it with this amount of calm and peace, not even at night - there’s always someone sneaking around, a small cabin reunion or a bonfire going on. But now that it’s early morning and everyone is still asleep, it really feels like a wellness retreat from the chaos and loudness of urban life. 

You stroll straight towards the Headquarters, enjoying the warm air and the freshness of the shadows cast by the trees. As you pass by Steve’s cabin, you throw an unintentional glance at the window, noticing nothing else but darkness. 

Before heading to the meeting room, you stop a minute or two by the lake, your gaze getting lost in the vibrating green leaves reflected on its calm surface. As you graze the refreshingly cold water with the tip of your fingers, you decide in favor of asking Robin to go on a swim later today, maybe during your afternoon break. 

Snap. 

You turn around at the sudden noise coming from behind you, almost losing your balance and ending up with one foot in the water. You’re not scared, not like two nights ago when you found Eddie near the kitchen - but you’re startled nonetheless, so you take a look around. However, as you scan the space between the cabins and the grove surrounding the camp, nothing’s to be seen. So, you decide, it was probably a squirrel or a bird.

You check your watch once again and it’s not long now before everyone wakes up for breakfast, so you need to hurry if you want to catch Mr. Smithson alone. Before leaving, you try to shake some water off your wet tennis shoe, but there’s not much you can do - the damage is done now, so you’ll have to walk around with a soggy foot and let it dry in the sun later.

Trying to ignore the discomfort, you make your way towards the meeting room at the back of the Headquarters. You’re about to knock when the door swings open to reveal a chirpy Mrs. Janet.

“Oh, hello y/n” she exclaims, looking at you with a pleased expression of surprise, “quite the early birds today, are we?”

“Good morning, Mrs. Janet” you greet her back with a smile, “Yeah, I figured I could get up a bit earlier to have a chat with Mr. Smithson”

“Please, do come in, y/n” the director’s voice rises from behind the cook, “There’s still some time before we're being summoned into the dining room by the delicious smell of Mrs. Janet’s pancakes”.

Mrs. Janet happily scoffs as she moves to the side to let you in. “See you later, then, Richard” she exclaims, leaving the door ajar as she heads next door. 

“So” Mr. Smithson addresses you as he shuffles a pile of papers and files together, sitting at the table in the middle of the room. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

You sit down across from him and tell him everything about Tim and Peter Carver, suggesting that it might be useful to move the latter to another cabin. 

Mr. Smithson listens to you attentively, with his hands folded on the table and his head occasionally nodding when he agrees with you. When you’re done talking, he lifts his gaze up towards the ceiling, thinking. 

“I’ll talk to the rest of the staff about this” he finally decides, looking back at you with a smile, “so we can decide together the best course of action. In the meantime, thank you for telling me - you did the right thing, as we want to keep this camp a safe space for everyone. Now” he concludes, throwing a glance at the clock on the wall, “I believe it’s time for pancakes. You can go, I’ll catch up soon”. 

You nod in agreement, matching his smile as you get up and thank him before heading towards the door, which is still slightly open from when Mrs. Janet left. As you step outside, you suddenly remember that you didn’t mention the black vines and the hole in the ground to Mr. Smithson. But, as you move to go back inside, a familiar voice gets your attention. 

“Didn’t know you were a snitch”. 

You turn towards the sound, which is coming from your left, and find Patrick leaning against the outer wall of the meeting room, between the window and the door. You’re startled for a second, but as you realize it’s him your expression hardens. 

“I don’t see how what I do or say is any of your business” you state, crossing your arms on your chest. You’re feeling the resentment bubbling up inside you as you speak.

“Fair point” Patrick scoffs, cocking one eyebrow up in disdain. “I guess it’s not my business that you’re hanging out with freaks now, either”

The clear reference to Eddie makes your cheeks turn red with anger. He’s probably used to being called a freak, and he might even joke about it - but you remember the hint of self-deprecation when he mentioned all the names he’s been called, and even if he’s brave enough to claim them and turn them into titles to exorcise their original meaning, it doesn’t mean that you’ll let your ex insult him for free. 

“Could say the same thing about you” you talk back to Patrick, “but I’m not out there ambushing you to wine about your new friends”.

“Yeah, well, at least I don’t visit them at night, y/n” Patrick blurts out, taking a step towards you. “I saw you, earlier, coming from Munson’s cabin. What were you looking for in the lake, huh? Your lost dignity?”

You’re so taken aback at his blatantly misplaced accusations that you’re left speechless, but you snap back into reality as soon as he grabs you by an arm and drags you behind the corner of the building. You know he did it to avoid Mr. Smithson - who's now coming out of the meeting room to head to the kitchen - but it does nothing but enrage you even more.

“Don’t you dare touch me again” you hiss at him, “and don’t even try to pull that bullshit on me. If your stupid little jock brain didn’t notice, all cabins are on the same two paths, so, hello? I just walked in front of Harrington’s. But I’m not going to explain myself to you any further - and for god’s sake, stop. stalking. me.” you conclude, taking a breath.

Patrick blushes violently, his mouth hanging open as he realizes just how pathetic he sounds. You know he’ll never be like Jason, because all it took was a little resistance to his attempts at bullying to make him crumble like a sandcastle.

In the meantime, campers have started to emerge from their cabins, as it’s finally time for breakfast. You can see them right around the corner, grouping in front of the Headquarters porch - and, among them, you catch a glimpse of a familiar wavy shag.

“Y/n” Patrick addresses you, his tone hard and arrogant once again, but with a new hint of insecurity in it. “You really should think twice about who hang out with”.

You bring your eyes back to him, your gaze icy as you stare at his face. “Yeah, try telling that to yourself” you reply, firmly putting an end to the conversation. Then, you move to walk past him, just to find his hand tight around your arm once again.

“I mean it, y/n” Patrick whispers in your ear, his voice almost trembling as he squeezes you hard.

A little farther away, Eddie notices you struggling against Patrick’s grip. Your eyes lock with his for a second, and you see him taking a few steps in your direction. At the realization of what might occur, you shrug Patrick’s off of you, giving up on talking back or blurting out a remark - you just want to get out of there without anyone else getting involved.

You move quickly towards the Headquarters, passing by Eddie. You really don’t feel like explaining what has happened, so you just give him a small smile and a wave and steer clear of him. He softly smiles back and watches you walk away.

— 🏕 —

“Come on, it’s definitely not freezing!” Steve exclaims, watching Robin retreat on the pier after dipping the tip of her toes in Lovers Lake’s waters. 

It’s early in the afternoon and, even if it’s still the beginning of June, it already feels like full-on summer. Popsicles melt at the speed of light, birds and squirrels hide in the cool shadow of the trees until sunset, campers only play sports in the early hours of the morning, ditching them for quieter board or card games when the sun is at its highest point in the sky - and, of course, as soon as any counselor has a slot of free time, they use it to find some much needed refreshment in the cold waters of the lake.

And that’s exactly what you and Robin planned on doing now, after spending the whole morning getting hand cramps while making friendship bracelets with a group of camper girls. You actually didn’t mind the activity, as you loved trying different shapes and motives with the colorful threads; you even made one for yourself, pink and light green with tiny white flowers, matching Robin’s light blue one. However, the idea of taking a swim and getting rid of the never-ending, always-flowing sweat pearling on your exposed skin and giving a break to your tired fingers really felt like an alternative worth pursuing. 

Robin definitely agreed - at least until you reached the shore of the lake after lunch, beach towel in hand and swimsuit on, and tested the water. It was then that Robin absolutely changed her mind, striding towards the pier to the tune of “I’m not going to get a congestion, not today”.

You trailed behind her with a roll of your eyes and a smile, guessing that persuading her to get in the lake with you would be easier after some basking in the sun. It was still you, however, the one sitting with your legs dangling in the fresh water when Steve Harrington swam towards you from the shore. Miraculously, he had the same free time break as you, so he has now joined your mission to convince Robin to be brave and dive in - with scarce success, indeed.

“Nope” Robin protests, sitting back on her towel, drops of sweat on her forehead betraying her need for refreshment. “I’m not risking it, not yet. I’m not fully trusting your first aid skills in case my stomach freezes and I get cramps and drown” she blurts out at Steve, looking at you with raised eyebrows to find some support.

You sigh affectionately, leaning back from your own seat to pat her knee. “Take your time, Robin” you tell her, before removing your sunglasses and placing them next to her, away from the edge of the pier, “But I’m going in, if you don’t mind”.

“As you wish, dingus” she exclaims, turning her body to lay on her stomach. “Just let me know what you’d like to write on your tombstone” she adds with a smirk as you get up and take a deep breath before diving in.

The sudden cold takes your breath away as you float underwater, the bubbles from your dive fizzling around you. For a few seconds, time slows down and you enjoy the peaceful feeling of being suspended in the dark water - then, with a kick of your feet, you emerge back on the surface, the sun warming your face as you wipe your eyes and open them again. 

“Is it that bad?” Steve eagerly asks you, swimming closer in case you need some help - being less salty than the sea, it’s slightly harder to stay afloat in lake water, but you’re okay. 

You can’t help but shiver for a second, earning a victorious “Ah-ha!” From Robin. “Actually” you address her, “it’s a bit of a shock at first, but you get used to it in a second”. 

You hang out like that for a while, chatting in the water as Steve occasionally displays his swimming skills, earning approving (and slightly mocking) claps from both you and Robin. He shakes his hair every time he re-emerges, lake water droplets shooting in your direction and causing Robin to yell at him to “stop acting like a damn puppy”. 

After a while, though, even Robin surrenders to the heat. After a painfully slow ritual consisting of dipping one single body part at a time in the lake, she finally joins you in the water - still refusing to admit that it’s quite a manageable temperature. 

“So, besides hiking, sports and making friendship bracelets, what else are we going to do all summer?” Steve asks, passing one hand through his wet but still incredibly good looking hair. 

You and Robin exchange a look, not knowing where to start with the list. 

“Well” Robin begins, “there are cooking classes, painting lessons, board game nights… if the projector is still working after Gareth crashed into it last year, we might do a couple of outdoor movie nights as well”. 

“And, if you’re lucky, don’t forget hike number two and three” you chip in, “be sure that you’ll know every single flower and leaf on that path by the time September comes”. 

“You always take the same route?” Steve asks, “you’ve never gone on a different one?”

“We tried asking the director last year” Robin replies, kicking her feet in the water, “but he said it’s better to stay on the trail we counselors know best, just in case something happens. And guess what? Nothing ever happens”. 

Your mind flashes back to the image of the dark roots and the hole in the ground. You figure that, since you completely forgot to mention it to Mr. Smithson, you could maybe tell Robin and Steve and see if they believe it’s something worth sharing. 

“Well, I actually noticed something yesterday” you begin, Steve's and Robin’s eyes now on you. “Eddie and I were walking back when I tripped on a root. I checked it out and it led us to a sort of… hole? In the ground? It wasn’t properly a cave, but it was big enough to fit a small kid. And there were black, slimy vines coming out of it - I’ve never seen anything like that, and I’ve passed by that spot enough times, for sure”. 

Robin hums as she ponders on your words, while Steve’s expression grows more curious and his face gets almost imperceptibly paler. 

“Black vines?” He asks you, his voice slightly trembling, “with slime on them?” 

“Something like that, yes” you reply, wondering if he knows more about it. “Why, have you seen them too?”

Steve shakes his head, his gaze lingering in the bright blue sky. “Mmmh, nope, didn’t notice” he replies, grazing the surface of the water with the palm of his hands, “Was that the spot before the path running downhill to the lake?”

“Yeah, exactly”, you confirm with a sure nod.

Water drops run down Steve’s forehead as he passes a hand through his hair. “Weird” he says, “I was there last night and I didn’t see anything. Maybe it was too dark-“

“What the hell were you doing in the woods in the middle of the night?” Robin interrupts him, splashing him in the face.

Steve turns to her, color coming back to his cheeks. “I was taking a walk” he replies, almost too casually.

“Alone?” Robin echoes him, eyes narrowed with curiosity.

“Uh, no, actually” Steve coughs, “I was with Tammy Thompson”.

Robin’s eyes widen visibly as she turns towards you. “See? I told you” she almost yells, punching the water to underline her annoyance.

“What?” Steve exclaims, dropping his hands in frustration.

“Oh, nothing, Steve” Robin replies, a full-on fake smile plastered on her face, “But you can call me Cassandra from now on”.

“Who’s Cassandra?” Steve asks you with a confused look, “Do I know her?”

You’re refraining from exploding into a heartfelt laugh at their exchange, but you manage to stay serious even when Robin mutters out a stressed “Jesus”.

“Sorry to break it to you, Steve” you tell him, patting his shoulder, “but she’s a mythological lady. You can’t date her”.

“But you still have Tammy Thompson, if you need to spend the night with someone” Robin chips in, “if you haven’t already - spent the night with her, I mean”.

Steve scoffs, splashing some water in her direction. “I’m not like that” he talks back, “I’m a gentleman. I would never impose myself on someone I barely know. We just talked, walked around a bit-“

“Exchanged some saliva” Robin interjects under her breath, a smirk appearing on her lips at Steve’s frustration. Her growing amusement is a clear sign that she’s already gotten over the initial blow.

“…and that’s it” Steve remarks, “I walked her to her cabin and I went back to mine. Because I’m a responsible guy, and I didn’t want to be late”.

“That’s a good boy” Robin jokes, pushing him slightly, but making him smile a little. “So your secret for staying this handsome is getting lots of beauty sleep, uh?”

“I wish” Steve replies with a sigh. “I actually slept like shit because I had to endure Munson’s flashlight all night. When I came back he was scribbling something into a notebook and he might as well have fallen asleep at dawn, because I had to drag him out of bed or he’d have missed breakfast”.

At the mention of Eddie, your attention peaks.

“Did you see what he was writing?” You ask Steve, tiny waves of water rippling around you as you swim towards the pier - the sun is starting to lower on the horizon and the water is now cold, rather than refreshing. 

“Honestly, I didn’t even try” Steve replies, following you and athletically lifting himself up on the wooden platform. “It’s not like it’s any of my business, you know? And maybe he wasn’t even writing, he could have been doodling or whatever”.

“Maybe he keeps a diary” Robin suggests, grabbing your hand as you help her up. 

“Could be” Steve observes, “even if I don’t see what could possibly be so interesting that he has to write about it all night”.

“Maybe it was music” you suggest, throwing your towel around your shivering shoulders. “He’s in a band, you know”.

Steve and Robin both look at you, eyebrows up in surprise. 

“And how would you know that?” Robin asks. 

You shrug casually. “We talked a bit” you reply as you start walking back towards the cabins. The others follow quickly after you. 

“Talked like Steve talked to Tammy?” Robin elbows you, her question followed by an annoyed scoff from Steve. 

“Ew, Robin" you instinctively reply, “of course not”. 

Robin puts her hands up in defense. “Okay, sorry for suggesting that you may like someone - you know it’s not a crime, right?” She observes, throwing one arm around your shoulders, “I mean, it’s not like I trust your taste in guys that much, but you’re the one who always tries to convince me that he’s such a good guy-"

You throw her a burning glare that makes the words die in her mouth, but you can’t stop the knowing smirk that has just formed on her lips. 

“You could ask him tonight” Steve suggests once you reach his cabin. You throw a quick glance in its direction and realize that it’s empty - and you don’t know if you feel relieved or disappointed. 

“What do you mean?” You ask Steve as your mind goes back to his suggestion, your hands tightening the towel around your body as a light gust of wind makes its way through the trees. 

Steve crosses his arms on his chest, tilting his head as he speaks again. “About what he was writing. You could ask him tonight at the bonfire”. 

You still can’t follow, so you turn to Robin with an inquisitive look - but her shaking head reveals that she has no clue as well. 

“Oh, yeah right, I haven’t told you” Steve adds once he’s met by your confused eyes. “Jeff told me they’re planning to have a bonfire night” he explains, “it was that other guy’s idea - Gareth, I think he’s called. Munson will be there too, and when they came to our cabin to plan it, Jeff invited me. He said that I could bring you two as well and that there will be booze, so I figured why not”. 

“How come you’ve just got here and you’re already making more social connections than us?” Robin asks him, “Thanks for the invite, though. I’m bringing marshmallows” she adds as she begins walking away, brushing past Steve with a shake of her head. 

You move to follow her, but you don’t leave before sticking a finger at Steve. “I’m coming, but I’m not asking him anything” you specify, eager to make it clear that you have no interest in meddling with Eddie’s business - and, privacy, for all that you know. 

Steve puts his hands up, not a care in the world. “As you wish, y/n”. 

— 🏕 —

The lively and vibrant mood of Camp Lovers Lake doesn’t disappear during the night - instead, it transforms into a different kind of atmosphere. 

As you and Robin sneak out of your cabin, flashlights still turned off in your hands, you can’t help but smile at your surroundings, apparently calm and peaceful as a dreamless night, but secretly awake with young life. Everyone is supposed to be asleep, but here and there little flashes of light glitter in the dark, peaking from half-drawn curtains and ajar wooden doors. Every now and then, a faint giggle echoes through the trees, followed by the rustling of leaves as pairs of tennis shoes tiptoe on the shadowy edge of the two paths running through the cabins.

You perfectly know that campers are sneaking around and meeting in each other’s cabin, some of them occasionally wandering in the closer areas of the grove around camp. But you haven’t always been a counselor, of course: you remember your own camper days so well that, with an unspoken understanding with the rest of the team, you let them be - knowing that they are perfectly aware of the consequences of getting caught or lost (and surely no camper wants to be either) while you’re ready to step in if necessary. After all, you’re sneaking around as well - but this time with a six-pack under your arm, which you very innocently smuggled among your clothes when you were packing, thankfully without your mother noticing.

Robin’s elbow gently nudges your side and brings your attention to the now completely dark Headquarters, standing wide and wooden at the end of the empty trail in front of you. You two have been crouching behind a tree for some time, waiting for the official lights-out that has just occurred - followed like clockwork by the chirpy chattering of the director and the rest of the staff, who are now closing the main door of the building before heading towards their own separate rooms at the back of camp. Apparently, they’ve been hanging after hours as well - probably sipping on that badly hidden Scotch you’ve spotted behind the oil cans in the kitchen.

“You’ve wanted to wait here and now I’m all cranky” Robin whispers under her breath, “at least pay attention - they’re gone”.

“Tell me how we were supposed to spot the lights going off from our room” you remark as you straighten up, peaking behind the tree to check if the road is clear.

Robin attempts to speak, but ends up opting for a grunt as you gently grab her wrist and make her follow you into the dark. You walk silently towards the Headquarters, turning right towards the bathrooms when you reach the end of the path.

Next to the separate wooden structure that hides the camp showers, three intermittent flashes of light announce Steve’s presence. Being the gentleman that he is, he suggested Jeff and the others go ahead and start setting up the fire while he waited for you - a very gallant gesture that also allowed him to take a few extra minutes to complete his hair routine. 

As soon as you and Robin spot him, you close the distance between you and him with a few more steps, until you’re all grouped up at the edge of the woods.

“Ten sharp - perfect timing” Steve announces, his eyes briefly glancing at his wristwatch as he spins the flashlight in his other hand. “Ready to go?”

“Yup. We’ll lead the way” Robin enthusiastically replies, quickly throwing and catching in the air a bag of marshmallows before opening it and picking one to nibble at while you walk. 

“Jeff told me the spot is on the shore - are we going in the right direction?” Steve hesitates as he realizes that you’re moving towards the trees and bushes across from the Headquarters.

“Dear Steve” Robin addresses him, her grin shining in the night as she turns her head around to face him, “do I really need to remind you that it’s not the first time we’re heading to a secret bonfire, so we’re going to take the shortcut counselors have been using for years to reach the only spot near the lake that is not visible from camp so that no one notices that we’re setting up an illegal fire?”

You let out a small chuckle as you catch Steve’s surrendering look in the flashlight gleam, wondering what he would say if he knew that yes, you and Robin have taken that path before, but just to find some privacy and silence to read or chat without anyone interrupting - and that this was, actually, your first time at a secret bonfire, too. 

Not that you and Robin didn’t have friends at camp. You knew basically everyone and often participated in counselor-only events like horror movie nights or board game tournaments in the meeting room. But you’d never formed a closer group of friends, an inner circle to share other kinds of experiences with - like adventures that weren’t exactly allowed or performed in the daylight, such as late-night swimming or, indeed, lakeside bonfires. 

It was mostly because you and Robin got along so well and had known each for such a long time that you enjoyed your company more than anyone else’s, cracking inner jokes or laughing at shared memories. But it was also hard to get closer to others (campers first and counselors later) when every friendship circle was, by now, clearly defined. It was a bit like school, to be honest.

That’s why you've brought the six-pack with you this year: together with Robin, you've made the decision to expand your duo a little, and alcohol seemed like the perfect excuse to do so. Sure, hanging out with Steve Harrington this much wasn’t exactly what you expected - even if he was inexplicably close to your brother Dustin, you’d never shared more than a few words and greetings with him and he’d always looked a bit too much on the popular side for you. But, since he seems to be a well-fitting addition to your small group, you guess that he can count as a new friend. He is, after all, a nice dude.

While you reflect on this, you keep walking in the dark, making your way through the vegetation that has been running uphill for the last few minutes.

“Got it” Robin exclaims after a while, grabbing a tree branch for support as she lowers herself to climb down a small crag on the side of the path, back towards the lake. 

Through the now sparse woods, you catch a glimpse of bright red light and you overhear laughter and chatter. You’ve finally reached the bonfire spot and, as you reach out to grab the same tree branch Robin has just used, your heart skips a little beat - which, for now, you blame on the excitement of doing something new and forbidden. 

“Need help there?” Steve proposes, holding out his hand for you to take, but you’re already down with Robin. “Okay, then” Steve shrugs, shaking his head at the rejection as he climbs down and catches up with you. 

You scramble through the last few bushes and finally get back into the open air. This side of the lake looks like a little cove: the shore curves softly towards the hill at your back, creating a short but thick strip of sand and pebbles that’s blocked at its sides by big rocks scattered with wild plants. 

You can’t see the few permanent lights of camp from here, which means two things essentially: first, your group and the fire that’s blazing in the middle of the cove can’t be seen, either; second, as your gaze lifts up to the pitch black sky, a myriad of glittering stars invade your eyes, making your head spin with their beauty and multitude as you walk towards the trio waiting for you around the bonfire.  

“Hey guys! You made it!” the boy that must be Jeff exclaims, welcoming you as soon as he spots you. When he speaks, two other figures turn away from the fire and in your direction, revealing Gareth and Eddie with a beer in their hands.

You timidly wave at them and your heart unexpectedly skips a beat once again. Gareth waves back with a warm and kind smile, a slight contrast to his very metal and not-so-summer-camp look: a black and red checkered shirt with ripped sleeves, layered over a Black Sabbath t-shirt. You’ve never seen him without the camp uniform, so it takes you aback a little bit - but not as much as seeing Eddie does. 

He’s standing tall against the red light of the fire, a black and worn-out leather jacket draped on his broad shoulders, shielding him from the cool breeze that’s rustling his long curls. Underneath the jacket, you catch a glimpse of a t-shirt with a devilish logo on it, the thin cotton clinging to his abdomen and tucked into his jeans. A denim vest adorned with multiple pins and patches completes the look, somehow making him look even taller and broader. 

He looks like the ultimate version of himself, one that makes him feel more confident and in his element, and it’s showing - in his stance, in the way his head slightly tilts while taking a sip of his beer, in the way his fingers drum on the glass of the bottle, which tinkles against the steel of his rings. For the first time since you’ve known him a few days ago, you clearly realize how good he looks. Especially when he throws you one of his upside-down grins to return your wave. 

“Yeah man, thanks for the invite” Steve replies to Jeff’s greeting, snapping you back into the moment as he high-fives and fist-bumps him like they’ve known each other for years. 

Both Eddie and Robin look at the exchange with eyebrows raised and a surprised look, before glancing at each other inquisitively. 

Steve mouths a curious “what?” in their direction as you all step closer to the fire, taking a seat on random rocks and battered trunks that the guys have placed around the flames. 

Your six-pack is placed near the water, so that the slow, cold waves refresh the cans with their constant flow; three more beers from another pack are handed to you by Gareth and Robin’s marshmallows get stuck on thin branches that Jeff collected from the woods, ready to burn and sizzle on the fire. 

You’re sitting on a tree trunk next to Steve and, after a while, you end up discussing animatedly with him and Gareth about the best movie of the year - a match that has come down to Steve’s choice, Back To The Future, and yours and Gareth’s pick, the upcoming The Goonies. 

“How can you vote for a movie that you haven’t even seen yet?” Steve’s exclaiming, but you distractedly miss Gareth’s heated remark as you throw a casual glance at Eddie. 

He’s sitting on a flat rock to your left, so you can only see his side profile. The flames of the bonfire cast flashes of red and orange on his face, in a dancing game of shadows and light that enhances his features. He’s talking with Jeff and Robin about music and guitar brands, his hands fiddling with a pack of cigarettes. Your eyes follow his fingers and the glittering reflection of the fire on his multiple rings as he extracts one and places it between his lips. His eyebrows shoot up as he laughs at something Robin says, lips jerking up in a smirk that shows the brown tip of the cigarette between his white teeth.

You unconsciously match his smirk with a small smile of your own as he bows his head a little to light the cigarette, the tiny flame flickering for a few seconds in his deep brown eyes. As he lifts his head back up, wavy hair bouncing at the side of his face, their chocolate irises turn to meet yours for a brief instant - making you blush in the dark as you snap back to Steve and Gareth’s conversation. 

“If you put it like this” Gareth is saying, “then I’ll go for Cat’s Eye”. 

Steve firmly shakes his head as he takes a bite of his burnt marshmallow, chasing it with a sip of beer. “Never heard of that one” he states as he gulps the mix. 

“Are you crazy?” Gavin sighs, “Three Stephen King stories and Drew Barrymore? That’s the recipe for the perfect horror movie”. 

Steve shrugs. “Not a big fan of horror, to be honest” he replies. “Not my genre. It’s not even that scary most of the time”. 

“I bet you couldn’t go through a full horror movie, though” you joke, nudging Steve's side and causing him to look down at you with a defiant look. 

“Try me” he simply states, causing you to roll your eyes with a scoff. 

“It’s not like we have a VHS player and a tv at hand right now” you reply, sipping on the last of your beer. 

Gareth chips in with a mischievous smile, nodding towards Steve. “I think I might have just the right alternative. Hey, Eddie” he exclaims, causing his friend, Jeff and Robin to turn towards you. “Why don’t you tell Harrington about Creel House?”.

An owl hoots in the background as Eddie stares at Gareth with a questioning look, a puff of smoke escaping his mouth. “Like, right now? Why?”

“Y/n here said Harrington wouldn’t last through a horror movie” Gareth explains, throwing you a complicit wink, “so let’s give him a chance to prove her wrong. If there’s something as scary as a horror film, that’s our very own, real-life haunted house”. 

“There’s a haunted house in Hawkins?” Robin curiously wonders as she stuffs her mouth with a couple more marshmallows.

Jeff looks at her in surprise. “You’ve really never heard of it?” He asks, his eyes darting between her, Steve and you just to be met by hesitant denial from every direction.

“Alright then, ladies and gentlemen” Eddie sighs, putting out the half-smoked cigarette, “let me present to you a story of satanic worship, ritual sacrifice… and murder. Told to you as my own uncle Wayne told it to me” he theatrically declares, placing his now empty bottle of beer on the ground as everyone huddles closer to the fire - and to each other. Which means that now you can feel the thick denim of Eddie’s jeans brush lightly against your skin, as his knee grazes your leg for a second.

“Imagine Hawkins back in 1959” Eddie begins, his voice lowering and almost becoming one with the crackling of the fire, the chirping of the crickets in the woods behind you and the soft sound of the water washing up on the shore of the lake. “Everything all tidy and clean, front yards perfectly well kept, people always dressed up with their best clothes. A very nice place, quiet and neat - and very beautiful new houses popping up at every corner and at the end of every cul-de-sac. A small town paradise, you could say”.

You listen attentively to his every word, the lilt in his voice and the ever-changing movements of his hands capturing you in the story. 

“One day, a new family comes to the delightful, safe haven of Hawkins - Mr. Victor Creel, with his wife Virginia and his little kids Henry and Alice. They’ve just bought a beautiful house, and it’s huuuge. There are rooms everywhere, and they settle in nicely. But-“ Eddie continues, his index finger shooting up as he speaks, “something is not quite right. After a month or two, one dreadful night changes everything: possessed by a sudden, maddening rage, Victor Creel slashes his whole family - not even the kids make it out alive. When the police arrive, they find them in the entrance hall and oooh boy, that’s a dreadful scene: every bone in their body is broken and twisted, their faces frozen in a cry of horror… and their eyes are gone in a pool of blood”.

As he suddenly roars those last words, he lifts up his arms and covers each one of his eyes with one hand. Across from you, Robin gasps loudly, causing Jeff and Gareth to snicker under their breath. Next to you, Steve seems quite unfazed.

“The official version of the event that the police came up with is that he lost his mind, just like that” Eddie says with a snap of his fingers as he picks up the story again, his sing-song tone back to normal. “So that is why he’s locked up into Pennhurst, where they are still studying his case today. However, some suggest a different story - and one of them is Victor Creel himself”.

“That’s my favorite part” Gareth chips in, popping another bottle of beer open as Eddie resumes speaking, the flames of the bonfire glittering in his eyes.

“Mr. Creel claims that his family was killed by an evil, vengeful demon” Eddie reveals, nodding as Robin whispers a soft no way. “He says that he tried to call an exorcist, but it didn’t help. So, the demon got even angrier and killed his lovely kids and wife, sparing him as a form of punishment. So, what is the truth? Did he attempt to summon a spirit and it turned wrong? Did he make a pact with the devil and didn’t respect his terms? Was he just a crazy psychopath always one step away from murder? No one will ever know” Eddie concludes, his gaze going over the astonished audience with satisfaction.

“What’s even crazier, though” Gareth steps in, addressing a still unimpressed Steve, “is that the old house is still standing. And some people swear that sometimes, when you pass by it on the street after sunset, you can see flickering lights coming from its broken windows. Even if no one’s been living there for years”.

“Well, that’s strange” you observe, a shiver involuntary running down your spine - probably due more to Eddie’s storytelling skills than to the actual story. 

Steve shrugs in response. “I’ve seen stranger things” he replies, his voice apparently calm - but you catch the way in which, at the mention of the flickering lights, he tightens his grasp on a piece of wood sticking out from the trunk where you’re sitting.

“Well done, Steve Harrington! You’ve passed the test” Robin jokes, throwing a piece of candy at Steve - which he manages to avoid with a swift movement of his head.

“Was that really necessary?” He questions her, pointing at the marshmallow on the ground as they start bickering under the amused looks of Jeff and Gareth.

A gentle nudge on your leg makes your head turn.

“Scared?” Eddie simply asks you, the light from his tilted smile reaching his eyes as they set on yours. His knee doesn’t move: it keeps leaning against your thigh, and even if it’s just a tiny contact spot you can still feel the heat of his body warming you up.

“It was creepy, I’ll give you that” you reply, the thought of him being so close to you weirdly stuck in the back of your mind. “But I think the scared one was actually Robin” you add, nodding towards her - who’s still arguing with Steve about the stickiness of marshmallows.

Eddie follows your gaze and lets out a soft chuckle at the sight of your friends, then quickly turns his attention back to you. This time, however, he’s staring at your exposed legs.

“Oh, but I see chills” he observes with a knowing smirk as he notices the tiny bumps on your skin. “That’s a pretty obvious sign, y’know?”

“Don’t get your hopes up, Munson” you jokingly retort, this time nudging him with your leg, “they’re from the cold”. 

It could have sounded like a blatant excuse, but it’s gotten quite chilly since you first arrived at the bonfire spot - so, yes, now you’re shivering slightly and wishing you’d brought more than a cotton sweatshirt to camp. It also doesn’t help that the fire is significantly milder, its flames almost reduced to a cluster of burning embers.

After a while, indeed, everyone starts feeling the drop in the temperature too - and as soon as the first yawns start interrupting your conversations, you realize it’s probably time to head back.

So, once you’ve made sure that the bonfire is completely extinguished, with Gareth even throwing a handful of sand and some lake water on the burnt wood, you start heading back towards the trail that leads to camp. 

If coming down from the downhill that led to the shore was relatively easy, climbing back up to get to the woods is definitely harder. Eddie and Gareth go first, grabbing random branches to get some leverage and push themselves up; Steve and Jeff, instead, stay behind to let watch yours and Robin’s back. 

You take a few steps ahead, Eddie and Gareth looking down on you and reaching out with their hands. “I think I can make it” you say, closing your fist on a thick branch and sticking a foot in the steep ground in front of you. You manage to lift yourself up and almost make it to them - but as you’re about to put your other foot to the top, the branch suddenly snaps, making you gasp in shock.

You don’t fall back, though. A hand shoots out and grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you up and making you crash into something soft - which, you soon realize, is Eddie’s chest. 

“Got ya” he says, letting you free of his grasp once he’s made sure you’re steady on your feet. Caught in surprise, you instantly take a step back - but the feeling of the softness of his body beneath the cotton of his shirt is burned on the palm of your hands.

“Thanks” you mutter, stepping aside to let Robin come up and mentally scolding yourself for being, once again, way too clumsy. And, also, desperately wondering why you’re blushing so violently. 

Thankfully, though, it’s too dark for anyone to notice; and as you all make your way back to your cabins, the night grows even more pitch black. Until, a few hours later, the first slivers of faint yellow light start lingering over the horizon.

— 🏕 —

Hope you enjoyed this chapter :) Feedback is always welcome!

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