#ash fans are missing out

[precure-stuff]

I can't be the only oone who finds the writing in Pokemon Horizons so subtle and mature. Even without dialogue the scene conveys their emotions and relationship

[silverselfshippingchaos]

I miss my mean millionaire bf..

[mashmouths]

oh "the house that built me" by miranda lambert we're really in it now

[bi-writes]

i'm a big fan of your writing! can i ask what made simon want to mail order a bride in the first place? thanks <3

mail-order bride

he's tired of staring across his dinner table and seeing nothing but empty space.

it isn't something he had thought about in the before. he's spent a long time shifting between different cots, collecting sand from faraway places and counting the bodies he dropped with tally marks against his boots.

there's a picture he keeps tucked into his vest, but he won't take it out. it sits heavy there, an invisible wall between himself and the outside world, a reality that he chooses not to believe. if he doesn't look at them, he won't think of them, and if he doesn't think of them, maybe he can pretend they were never even real.

they all have something outside of here. his sergeants are too pretty and too outgoing to stick around; they're social butterflies, and simon has seen the shuffle of pictures of some pretty girl that gaz can't stop staring at, and soap never shuts up--whenever they have a signal, he's somehow got a phone call with his cousin's stepfather's little sister, or it's his second cousin's brother-in-law's birthday, and he's got to wish him well since he missed his art exhibition last month.

even price has a pale circular shadow that is stained onto his ring finger.

it's not his fault, is it? it's not his fault he was dealt the worst fucking hand. it wasn't his fault he was born already two feet into the grave; it couldn't have been his fault that he can only get a good night's sleep when there's screaming in one ear or the rattle of a battlefield over his head.

it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault. it isn't his fault.

the cigarettes taste bland today. they're old, stale, and he can taste the bitterness already, but he lights it anyways, flicking ash into the ground, scrunching his nose until he gets used to the bite of it.

there's a shadow at his side, and he turns to snap at them, assuming it's johnny and his incessant nagging, but he holds his tongue when he realizes it's his captain.

he's got a warm cigar in one hand, and he leans against the concrete wall beside him, sighing deep, the kind of pensive weight that only a captain can bear.

price looks tired. he needs to go home.

"boys invited y'out, didn't they?" price asks, and simon chuckles lowly.

"'m olready 'ome," simon murmurs. "'n i can get piss drunk oll on my own 'ere."

price shrugs.

"ya haven't taken leave since you joined my team, simon," he says low. "can't have that. you know it."

simon shrugs.

"can try and make me go," simon tells him. "but y'know i won't leave."

"i'm not asking, simon," price says firmly. "'m telling."

"doesn't matter," simon takes a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in for a second too long before letting it out slow. "got nowhere ta go."

his captain is not blind. simon's on a one-way road, and the end of it stops at the end of someone else's gun. men like simon, the ones who have nothing to lose, they're dangerous. they clear rooms outnumbered thirty to one because no one thinks they can. they hit targets from thousands of yards away because it's the only place that never changes. they kill and sleep peacefully because the blood of a stranger is far cleaner than that of someone they know, of someone they love.

they'll never leave because war is familiar. they don't want to go home because home isn't something they know. they're nomads, taking with them only what they can carry, because the rest is baggage and an emotional weight that they aren't strong enough to carry.

but it doesn't mean men like simon don't want. it doesn't mean they don't wish for more. it doesn't mean they don't think about using their teeth for something other than baring them to show their dominance, their aggression, their insecurity.

simon's a protector. the way he shoves his men behind him says so. the steadiness of his voice over comms when the op goes to shit. the ease of his hand when he ties a tourniquet. the split second that simon never wastes, the way he uses his body as armor and the look he gives his men when they're scared. simon's died twice before, and the look in his eyes tells them that this isn't it, that this isn't death, because he'd fucking know--he'd recognize it if he saw it.

simon's unrelenting. his past, his trauma, it's tried to beat him into a shape that will bend and snap, but its obvious simon is not made of lead--fuck, he's an entire block of unmovable steel. he does not give when compressed, he does not crack when the strength of him is tested. simon's fought too hard to live to let a gun terrify him, he's endured too much torture to flinch when someone sinks a blade into his chest.

but he knows, simon knows, that there is something missing. he fought hard to live, but for what? he's endured, but what the fuck is there when he lays his head down at night?

simon's a lover. he tries so hard to convince himself that he's always been this way--alone, drifting, lost, but it's a lie. simon knows what it's like to want. he knows what it's like to look into a crowd and hope you see a familiar face. he understands wanting to pull that string taut, but he also understands what it can do to you. what it can take from you.

he understands what you can never get back.

he thinks this is a bad idea. he crumples the note paper in his hand that had the address scribbled onto it, tearing it, staring up at the house in front of him. it's quaint, a lovely little house in the outskirts of london, with a red chimney and overturned planters in the yard. there's a weathered wooden door, a porch step that needs fixing, and when he kicks open the door, he grimaces seeing a carpet that need's replacing.

"the fuck am i doin' 'ere?" he whispers to himself, sliding his mask off, running a hand over his face. his heart is pounding, but he's not sure why, but he catches his reflection in the window. what looks back at him terrifies him--he can't do this.

he makes his way back outside, rummaging through his pockets for a cigarette. he takes a seat on the steps, lighting it, and as he takes his first frantic drag, he sees the torn pages of the note still on the ground. he picks up one end of it, running his thumb over the crumpled paper there, smudging the pencil scribble there.

she needs you

it's written in price's ugly handwriting, letters all tilted to the side and barely legible, but he still can read what price didn't write--and you need her.

but simon doesn't need anyone. he barely needs himself, barely can take care of himself. this won't help him--he can't help anyone, he isn't the kind that can be this kind of thing for anyone. he's stayed in the service because at least this way, he can die with honor, he can prove them all wrong, he can at least be remembered for what he could do and not by what was done to him.

his touch is ice. his heart is buried too deep under his ribs; no one has seen it since he could finally register a memory. his face, the skin he wears--he's not a pretty man, he's a forgettable one. he isn't gentle, he isn't capable of it. he can't forgive. he's so quick to anger, likes to snap his teeth, and he cannot be the kind of thing that they all expect him to be.

he does not love himself. he will not love himself. so he cannot love another.

there is a certain kind of satisfaction he feels when he fixes the porch step. once abandoned, once a nuisance, and now it functions as intended. he feels the same kind of thing when he rips up the stained carpet, and he feels it again when he watches the seeds of the thyme leaves grow as they rest in a pot above the sink.

things once forgotten serve a purpose. with effort, they can be used again. they don't have to be replaced, they can be open anew, they can live again and breathe deeper and see through the lens of a different perspective.

when you climb the porch steps the first time, he thinks about the board that doesn't wobble any longer. when the door shuts behind you for the first time and you take off your boots, he thinks about the new carpet that warms your toes now.

and when you lay next to him for the first time, under the covers of the bed he's made, he reaches over and slips a few fingers around your wrist, thumbing at the base of it and swallowing hard when he feels the pulse of your heartbeat. it beats, warm and steady, to a beat familiar, one he knows. his heart has not been hiding under thick bone and the tar of his own blood.

it's here now. under your skin. and now it's home.

[cuteandhughesy]

The Great War | Jack Hughes

summary: during a friends getaway to the hughes lake house, you are faced with the ongoing struggle of trying to get along with the middle hughes brother. the 3 times you were sure you and jack hated each other + the 2 times you aren’t so sure.

[word count] 11.7k

warnings: NSFW! enemies to lovers | rude!jack | alcohol | suggestive themes | smut | kissing | fingering | read at your own discretion.

🎵 the great war by taylor swift

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

one: the drive

"It's too early." ashley’s voice is an exhausted whine, and you look over just as she dramatically drops her forehead to the purple suitcase sitting infront of her.

you roll your eyes gently, very much used to your best friends distaste in early morning conversations and wake up times. you can’t say you’re the biggest fan of waiting on the grand stairs outside luke and jack hughes’ apartment building at 8 a.m., but the reasoning for the early wake up call was one that you were a fan of.

you met luke hughes in your shared freshman year at the university of michigan, and you had both hit it off instantly - becoming quick friends. since then, you and your friend ashley had always been invited to spend a week of summer vacation at the hughes’ michigan lake house and every year, without fail, you’d all get together and drive up.

ashley groans again, and the sound has you breathing out in a quiet laughter. your fingers drum against the smooth stone steps beneath you, your head lolling over to look at her properly. “it’s only 8, ash “

the brunette throws her head backwards, an even louder noise of displeasure leaving her small body. “yeah, way too early.” she stretches out her tan legs, nudging the suitcase out of the way with a painted toenail. ashley rolls her shoulder a few times and huffs obnoxiously. “what the hell is taking them so long?”

you frown, “I’m not sure. luke said they were on their way down a few minutes ago.” you glance over your shoulder and in the direction of the grand apartment doors behind you, trying to catch a glance of luke or anybody else you know. "maybe-"

"hello ladies" trevor zegras pushes open the doors, sauntering out from the apartment complex and over towards you and ashley. he’s sporting his usual sneaky grin, and there’s an expensive pair of black sunglasses covering his bright eyes - you couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they were crinkled at the corners as he continued to grin.

just like ducks, the rest of the group follows trevor, making their way towards the three of you from the entrance of the building. you recognize pretty much everyone, saved from a face towards the back of your friend group that you’re unfamiliar with.

trevor pulls you get up, one of his strong arms effortlessly bringing you to your feet from where you previously lounged on the ground. you see alex tourcette help ashley up beside you, the kings forward narrowly missing tripping over the suitcase ashley had pushed away earlier.

beatrice, luke’s girlfriend is breathing a heavy, trying to catch her breath as she stands with her hands held firmly against her hips. she gives trevor a stink eye, wetting her dry lips. “trevor we told you not to run.”

“where’s the fun in that?” trevor laughs unashamed. immediately his exterior had you smiling, the sour attitude from the early morning long forgotten as you listen to quinn and trevor begin to bicker.

like you and ashley, trevor was another honorary hughes lake house member and was always bringing the lighthearted fun to your vacation week - ever since you met him, trevor has always been one of your favourite people.

“why you were so excited to get out here is a mystery to me dude, not like there’s anyone worth while out here.” for the first time, jack makes his presence known but not without the cruel comment which you knew he was directing at you.

you roll your eyes, typical. you and jack, for lack of a better word, despised one another. ever since luke introduced you to his superstar brother, you did not like him. maybe it was his sour attitude or the fact he always seemed like he couldn’t care less about you or anything you said - you’re not sure why. all you’re sure of is the strong feeling of needing to rip his head off and how it’s growing stronger everytime you have to spend time near him.

"i'm in vacation mode dude," trevor chuckles.

"same here!" an unfamiliar female laugh follows the preach, and it quickly has your attention. she's like ridiculously beautiful - the kind of beautiful that you're not even jealous of but instead you're just amazed by. the girl stands confidently beside jack, her blonde hair tied back into a low bun and her simple gold jewelry catches the sun so it looks likes she's glowing.

beatrice says something along the lines of feeling excited about wearing her new bathing suit, but you're too distracted by the mystery's girls sweet laugh, perfect teeth....and the way jack just seemed so enamoured by her. you watch as he looks down at her softly, his tongue wetting his plump bottom lip as he does. you've never physically seen jack look so kindly at someone, and the feeling is a bit foreign - weighing oddly on your chest.

quinn claps his hands together, and the sound has you blinking hard, quickly looking away from the middle hughes brother and the mystery model and finding quinn - who's clap affectively grabbed the attention of the large group. "Okay, less cars the better - i'm thinking two vehicles max. who's up for driving?"

"my cars here," beatrice smiles gently, her delicate hand raising as she gathers the attention. jack follows suit, telling everyone he filled his trucks tank the day prior and was ready for the hour drive up to the lake house.

at that, trevor immediately makes a b-line for the truck, which coincidentally was parked towards the front of the gated parking unit. "let's get going!" he tosses his bag into the open trunk just as it begins to open, because yes jack of course has one of those fancy vehicles that's trunks open with a push of a button.

you watch as ashley is whisked away by beatrice, the chatty brunette already talking about the things she had planned for the three of you to do while you were at the lake house. you just catch the end of beatrice mentioning a hiking trail before the sound of rolling wheels on the suitcases overpower the conversation .

just as you make a move towards beatrice's mini car, already praying that you'll fit between the ridiculous amount of luggage, luke rushes past you, tucking himself behind the driver's seat just as beatrice and ashley get in the front.

you slow in your steps, a gentle frown taking over your face. you analyze the remaining seat, thinking of ways to move around the luggage and bags to make room for yourself - but your thoughts are halted as alex jumps into the car, effortlessly moving around the suitcase so he can sit comfortably behind the passenger seat.

you sigh, hands falling to your sides. "seriously guys?" the only one that seems to hear you is luke, the other three already arguing loudly over what songs to play and who exactly gets aux cord privileges.

luke shrugs his shoulders stiffly and shoots you an apologetic smile. "cars full."

you run a warm hand through your unbrushed hair - forgetting to comb so early in the day - and you readjust your black duffel bag along your exposed shoulder. "luke, I swear to god if you don't let me sit in your spot-"

"what? why should I move?" he counters, brows raised comically as he looks up at you.

you take a step closer to the jam packed cooper, crossing your arms unimpressed over your tank top covered chest. it feels a bit awkward with the bag weighing down your shoulder, practically rubbing your shoulder raw - but you don't care. "bea and ash - they're my friends."

he laughs, "bea is my girlfriend."

just as you go to further your point, ready to tell luke that there was no possible way you could ride in the other vehicle, the sound of a rumbling engine gets louder, signalling that the truck had come to a halt behind your back.

you feel yourself physically deflate but somehow you also feel like you're frozen. you knew what this whole car situation means, especially with luke being his usual stubborn self and refusing to offer you his spot (you'll definitely get him back for that later). with no other options, you'll have to ride in jack's truck.

the all too familiar voice of the middle hughes brother calls out to your turned back, a taunting undertone to his words that just make you want to get swallowed up by the ground and not go anywhere. "you need a ride?"

suddenly, the bustling chatter and laughter from beatrice's car comes to a halt, the three previously noisy passengers all going silent as their eyes all find you.

awkwardly, you turn around and your eyes connect with jack's past trevor's completely oblivious smile - scrolling leisurely on his phone. jack was leaning over the center console of his truck, his weight resting on his elbow as he looks at you through the passenger window.

you give beatrice's car one last look of defeat - to which ashley, finally realizing your predicament, shoots you a sympathetic look, and her smile is a mixture of guilt and sadness for you.

with a huff, you look back towards the truck and send a forced, borderline sarcastic, smile in jack's direction. "obviously." you grit through your clenched teeth, taking the two steps towards the truck and hastily pulling open the door.

jack's lips slink upwards into a smirk at your words, watching you gently as you clamber over quinn's large outstretched legs to get to the middle seat.

once you're comfortable (as comfortable as you can be in a confined space with jack hughes), the truck begins to move, jack pulling out of the gated apartment complex and onto the street.

10 minutes into the drive and you were still feeling pretty on edge. the vibes in the truck were anything short of awkward - to say the least. you could tell quinn was waiting and anticipating for you and jack to start bickering - his shoulder tense against yours. anytime jack said anything to trevor or sydney (the beautiful model that jack had brought along - who introduced herself as soon as jack pulled onto the freeway) , quinn would hold his breath, waiting for an argument to start.

sydney's sweet voice pulls you from your head, eyeing you brightly. "so, y/n, how do you know luke?"

you smile, "we got close at uni - my good friend used to hookup with one of his friends so we'd all hangout at their place."

"now we can't get rid of her." quinn's elbow hits your ribs teasingly, letting you know he was only joking.

sydney hums lightly, "and are you still in school?"

you nod in conformation. unlike luke, you weren't a nhl superstar who's time in college was cut short - you still had a year left of schooling and gymnastic training at michigan.

"and I think jack mentioned you do gymnastics, are you wanting to persue that?" sydney eyes you curiously, knawing her lip intuitively as she waits for a response.

immediately though, your brows pull together as you try and work out why jack would mention you at all. you clear your throat, unable to think of a reason why. "that's definitely the goal, hopefully i’m good enough."

trevor laughs, eyeing you over the high shoulder of the trucks seat. his eyes are blown wide, and he's looking at you with an expression mixed of disbelief and amusement at your words. "you're definitely good enough - hell anytime i've seen you compete i've been left in pure astonishment."

you smile, head dipping slightly as you turn red from the praise. you can be really hard on yourself when it comes to your athletics, so hearing other people compliment your hard work is always nice and you can't help but blush.

jack clears his throat gently, shuffling forward in his seat. it gatherers your attention, and your eyes meet his deep blue ones in the rearview mirror. they flicker away shortly after, focusing back on the highway. "so, y/n." jack begins, eyes finding your gaze in the mirror once again.

beside you, quinn deflates as he mumbles to himself. trevor groans in exhaustion, already covering his face to save himself from witnessing any possible argument that could occur.

jack looks at you over his shoulder, eyes darting over your frame quickly.

on your other side, sydney is clearly unaware of the tension growing between you and jack, and she pushes against his shoulder gently. "hey, eyes on the road, jack. I don't wanna die."

jack did what sydney asked and turns back towards the road to divert the breakage of traffic laws - but the odd look he's been sporting didn't fall from his lips. "how's it going with ethan? luke hasn't mentioned you two in awhile."

your face falls. you can't tell if you're going to start sobbing uncontrollably or if you're going reach out and strangle jack until he passes out. you knew for a fact that jack knew you and ethan had broken up, because luke told him only a few days ago (and luke told you he told his two oldest brothers to help you avoid any akward conversations).

but this is typical jack, you think. trevor had complemented you, which had you visibly joyful, and jack seemed like he wanted nothing but the opposite for you. he's seen you happy so now he planned to ruin your mood by bringing up your freshly new ex-boyfriend.

"dude.." trevor whispers in disbelief, side eyeing his friend.

"jack-" quinn starts, brows furrowed uncomfortably.

"you know we broke up." you tell him roughly. you hope to catch his eyes in the mirror again, wanting to desperately have some fucking eye contact while jack insists on bringing you down once again- but he keeps his gaze on the road. "and you know that because luke told you about what happened."

"I forgot," jack practically scoffs, and one of his hands shoots up in defence. "no need to get all worked up over it."

you huff, "and there's no need for you to be a complete asshole."

"how was I being an asshole?" he laughs out, his fingers flexing on the edge of the steering wheel as the truck shifts lanes. "i'm just asking about your life."

"no," you correct roughly, "you were trying to get a rise out of me and congratulations jack, it worked and now i'm annoyed." you spit unpleasantly. your palms are starting to become wet with sweat, and your body feels like it's on fire. you always felt that heat when you and jack argued - he just always gets you so worked up and unfortunately, he's way too good at doing it.

"i'm not responsible for how you react to my words, y/n."

"is this taylor swift?" trevor's loud words cut off any further conversation brewing between you and jack. he turns up the volume in the truck so that's it's borderline deafening, a clear indicator that he was sick of hearing you both bicker at one another.

your arms cross over your chest stubbornly and finally, you look away from the reflective rearview mirror - eyes finding the carpeted floor of the truck. you miss the look jack sends you though, an unidentifiable expression on his face.

trevor starts to belt out the chorus of you belong with me - sidney and even quinn joining in on the impromptu karaoke session. but you ignore it...all of it. you ignored how jack brought a stranger to the cabin (a very sweet stranger - but still), ignored how jack has already picked a fight with you and humiliated you, and ignored how you'd have to spend a whole vacation with jack on top of it all.

you're feeling a little frustrated in yourself as well. you were so sick of taking his obvious bait, and allowing yourself to get so worked up over him. from now on, you're going to try your best to bite your tongue and stay quiet in his presence.

"hey, y/n, wanna shoot a text to bea and tell them we're only 20 minutes away." trevor's words have you already feeling better and pulls you out of your own self inflicted misery. the other passengers beside you begin to cheer in excitement, and quinn bumps his shoulder against yours knowingly - which has you breaking into a grin.

through the surge of excitement, you can't help but let your eyes wander back towards the driver's seat - instinctively landing on jack. he looks so happy, his teeth practically sparkling in the summer sun as he giggles at something trevor says.

his hair has grown since the season came to a disappointing end, giving jack that care-free, messy look you always thought suited him best. you squint questionably, wondering how he could be so happy and unbothered after your mini fight - did he not even feel guilty that he'd upset you?

you look away, past quinn's firm chest and out the truck window - watching the bustling city highways and buildings turn into beautiful lakeside streets and summer homes.

you're now really looking forward to lounging by the lake and doing nothing for a few days - planning on being the bigger person and acting civil for the remainder of the vacation.

screw jack and his stupid truck.

two: the boat

it was early morning before you saw anybody, besides ashley, again. after your rather draining car ride, you weren't feeling up to mingling or barbecuing with anybody, so after some lame excuse of feeling sick, you sulked to yourself in bed for the remainder of the day.

jack had rolled his eyes and huffed loudly as you made your way up the stairs, but you didn't stop or make a comment - you ignored him and kept going. after all, you'd had enough jack for the day.

you quietly make your way into the kitchen, bare feet padding against the hardwood floor as you round the corner.

trevor is already in there, slowly spreading some butter on a borderline burnt bagel half. he looks up, and his eyes widen in suprise at the sight of you. he licks some butter of his thumb, and then wipes it against his bare chest. "shit, wasn't expecting you."

you move around him and open the fridge. your eyes quickly scan over the options before you decide on orange juice, grabbing the full carton and bringing it towards the kitchen island. "forget I was here already?" you tease once you retrieved a glass and begin to pour yourself some juice., shooting him a look.

"could never forget you." trevor smiles, taking an extremely large bite out of his bagel so that butter smears over his dimples.

you laugh before taking a sip from your glass, letting the citrus juice slide over your teeth and down your throat - clashing with the toothpaste left over in your mouth. regardless, it's still enjoyable and you hum in satisfaction.

trevor eyes you, "how can you drink that shit?" he's laughing slightly, but his lips are tugged into a frown of displeasure. "apple juice is way better."

"it's not," you scoff gently, eyes twinkling with amusement.

he nods, "it is. nobody here drinks that shit but you."

you frown gently, "really? nobody else likes orange juice?" trevor shakes his head no, taking another bite and poppy seeds go everywhere. you hum questionably, "why did they buy it then?"

"who knows," trevor shrugs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "ask quinn and jack - they went out shopping last night."

behind you, footsteps come bounding around the corner and into the kitchen. you glance towards the entry way just as jack walks in - he doesn't look up at first, too engrossed on his phone. like trevor, jack was also shirtless but instead of wearing pyjama bottoms like the anaheim ducks forward, he had on his bathing suit - a towel thrown over his shoulder.

he looks up from his phone and over at trevor, "quinn and I were thinking of heading out on the boat for a bit - bring some floaties and shit. you in?"

trevor lights up, dusting his hands free of any buttery bagel residue, "yeah man, let me get changed."

jack moves further into the kitchen, eyeing you and your cup of orange juice silently before moving past your body and opening one of the cupboards behind you.

silently, you roll your eyes at his typical rude behaviour. he didn't like you, that much was obvious, you weren't expecting him to ask you to join them on the boat anything- but could he not even greet you.

trevor turns back towards your direction, his brows raised questionably. "y/n, you coming?"

behind you, you can hear jack busing himself, but you knew he wasn't actually doing anything - he was subtly waiting to hear your answer to trevor's question.

so much was certain - you knew jack didn't want you there.

“sure,” you smile is exaggerated, and you can only hope jack is watching it with irritation. "I'll lay out and tan."

trevor grins, although his eyes widen in something that looks like fear at your wide smile. he pats the door frame twice, mumbling something about pennywise as he walks off.

as soon as he is out of sight, jack sighs. “of course.” his words are very quiet, but you knew he had no intent of keeping his words to himself - he wanted you to hear.

initially, you ignore him - working on finishing the banana you’d begin to peel when jack first walked into the kitchen.

jack sighs again - louder this time and you can practically hear his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

you huff, spinning around slowly so that’s you’re facing the second oldest hughes. resting your hip against the edge of the granite counter top, you eye him - gaze full of question as well as knowing. “spit it out.”

his expression turns smug like he knew he could break you - and that just has your blood coming to a boil. you stay composed though, focusing your surge of anger on the chews of mushy fruit in between your teeth.

jack rests the heels of his palms against the opposite counter top - near the sink across from the island . he leans back, eyeing you with an almost teasing glimmer in his eyes. "I thought you would've shaved your legs before offering to lounge around in your bathing suit all day."

you sigh, tilting your head tauntingly in his direction. you had waxed your legs two days ago, so obviously there was nothing there but you know he’s just trying to push your buttons like usual.

you send him a sarcastic smile. "you’d like that wouldn't you."

jack tongues his cheek, and his gaze doesn’t leave you face - even when you push off the island and brush past him to throw your banana peel out. you smirk to yourself once you know that jack isn’t going to say anything back, and you go get changed.

10 minutes later, you and ashley make your way down to the dock where quinn, trevor, alex and jack are (impatiently) waiting.

at the sight of you, trevor groans with exasperation, "finally the princesses have arrived."

"whatever.” ashley mumbles, a sarcastic eye roll gracing her dark eyes. the la kings player is at the side of the boat quicker than you can process, eyeing your friend gently and offering his hand to her. she accepts the outstretched hand, and lets alex help her gracefully step off the wooden dock and into the boat.

alex tourcette has very obviously been crushing on ashley since trevor introduced them two years ago at the hughes lake house. it was alex’s first time there and the sight of ashley had him coming back every year since.

so like usual when ashley was around, alex was too wrapped up in all her glory - leaving you standing on the dock with your arms full of beach towels, a tote bag full of all your essentials, and trevor’s hat he’d forgotten inside.

“any help?” you ask, but the only thing you get is the view of trevor and ashley’s backs as they walk away. “hello?”

you think you’re going to have to just pray and make the step down - vision practically blocked from the plethora of things in your arms. just when you try and attempt, you catch jack look over at you.

but then after a second he looks away, his attention once again back on his phone. a moment passes, and you’re almost too in shock to say anything to him, because was he really about ignore you and let you try this by yourself? after seeing you struggling?

nobody else is moving to assist you. quinn and trevor are going over the depth reader set up and the manuals, and obviously, ashley and alex were busy being lovey dovey at the very front of the boat. nobody else knew your predicament.

jack suddenly groans and tosses his phone on the bench seat beside him. wordlessly, he gets up from his previous seated position and makes his way towards the part of the boat you were standing beside.

he places his hand out, his palm up in your direction. jack looks at you expectantly, his brows raised as he waits on you to make the next move.

you bite your tongue to stop any irritant comments from coming out, but you can’t control the way your eyes roll at his bluntness. you attempt to reach out for his hand, trying to balance all the stuff in the crook of your opposite elbow.

"hold on,” jack huffs tiredly, "pass me all the shit in your arms so you don't trip and fall into the water."

quietly, you load everything off and give it to jack - who then places it all near his cellphone on the bench seat behind him.

finally, jack takes your hand, and helps you stay steady as you step onto the boat. his fingers brush against your wrist delicately, the foreign feeling of his skin on yours providing and unfamiliar rush of feelings.

the tote bag you had chose to keep on your body, resting loosely on your shoulder, begins to slip down your arm as you step down onto the boat.

jack’s opposite hand darts out, grabbing the bag before it can fall off your arm - putting it back on your shoulder properly.

you look up at him, swallowing thickly. “thanks.”

jack walks away without a word, his touch that was, just seconds ago, all you could feel, was gone - leaving you feeling rather chilled under the blistering summer sun.

you huff, shaking your head clear of any thoughts of jack and his odd behaviour.

the boat took out onto the water just moments later, which helped in distracting your brain - the smell of fresh water and the wind on your face providing a new focus. it took quinn almost 15 minutes to find the ‘perfect spot’, before anchoring down near the sand bar he always ended up at anyways.

trevor and jack waste no time, and jump of the boat and into the michigan water while quinn was still dropping the anchor down into the water.

the idea of sitting with alex and ashley as the two of them cuddle and giggle to themselves was something you did not want to be witness to - so swimming it is. you quickly follow suit, stripping off your band tshirt turned cover up, leaving you in your bathing suit.

quinn rushes past you, cannonballing into the water. the commotion has trevor looking in the direction of the boat, watching as you throw your top into your bag - wiping the drops of water off your arms from quinn’s cannonball.

“looking hot, y/n!” trevor shouts at you, hands cupped around his mouth to further project his already loud voice.

you laugh warmly at his teasing as you make your way down towards the swimming platform - the last thing g you want to do is try and jump in and accidentally flash quinn, trevor and jack your nipple.

quinn laughs gently, pushing trevor under the water as a form of lackluster punishment for his degrading comment.

you swallow your laughter, and ignore the feeling of eyes on you as you begin to take the steps down into the water - quinn and trevor still laughing and bickering in the distance. the water is feeling cold from the temperature drop last night, and you quiver as you become fully emerged in the lake.

you practically doggy paddle towards the area of sand bar, and once you’re close enough, you grab onto quinn from behind - your small, cold hands gripping the muscles of his broad shoulders as you attempt to hold your torso above the water. "it's so cold, oh my god."

"you're fine," trevor insists, swimming up beside you, a small splash of water hitting your torso as he flicks it at you.

"trevor.” you warn sternly, pointing at him accusingly. “we’re not splashing.”

suddenly, quinn spins to face you and your hands slips off his wet shoulder from his sudden movement. the smirk on his face has your stomach dropping, and you take a step back through the water.

quinn sends a splash towards you, water sloshing up your arms and further wetting your bathing suit top. trevor continues and follows suit, soaking you with lake water as they splash you like children.

you try and escape the attack, backing away from them with your hands raised in an attempt at a surrender. “guys, seriously?!”

under the water, a piece of slimy seaweed is disturbed from your quick movements, and the green water plant grazes your calf. you screech at the foreign touch, hopping backwards to escape it. the water splashes up and around you at your quick and frantic jump, completely drenching you.

suddenly, your cold back come in contact with something unfamiliar- but not foreign. behind you, you feel warm skin tense and chest muscles move smoothly as you unexpectedly back into them.

you swallow, and you whip around and meet the harsh eyes of jack.

"careful," jack’s voice was calm, but still sharp like he was demanding something from you. it was like you were inconveniencing him by simply being in the same water as him, and his stern gaze was almost taunting as he looked over your face.

you open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

jack doesn’t say anything else. he makes his way over to the back to the boat, and pulls himself out of the water and onto the swimming platform effortlessly. he shakes out his hair, water spraying all around him - the droplets reflecting brightly in the sun as they fall off him.

you look away, jack’s typical weird behaviour leaving you feeling rather annoyed.

jack didn't speak or even look in your direction for the remainder of the afternoon - a sour attitude radiating off of him for the rest of the boat outing.

when you all get back to shore a couple hours after departing, jack had gotten off the boat first, not bothering in helping with tying up the ropes or bringing up any loose stuff from inside the boat.

you watch as he walks up to the deck a few feet away, and immediately plops himself on top of sydney, who was laying on a lounge chair tanning.

you hear luke tell his brother to get a room as he flips burgers at the grill with beatrice at his side, and your mood is suddenly very sour. you exit the boat with a scowl on your face, your arms full of even more stuff than you brought down that morning - no thanks to jack and his no help.

you quickly walk pass the four of them on the back deck, shooting a harsh glare in jacks direction before heading inside.

three: the kitchen

when you excused yourself from the warm comfort of the bonfire to use the bathroom and grab yourself another seltzer, you weren't expecting to end up crying before making it back outside.

but here you are - warm, salty tears falling heavy on the screen of your phone. on your screen, the same video is replaying over again, the familiar sound of your ex boyfriends laugh ringing in your ears as you listen through dylan duke's snapchat story. it was an innocent post really, dylan was clueless to the activities going on behind him and mark as the two talked away on the private story. ethan was seen in the background, laughing with a girl before going in and cuddling into her neck.

the breakup, although you're not actively having romantic feelings, still hurt, and watching ethan move on wasn't the easiest thing to witness.

you sniffle quietly, watching the video play out once more before you exit snapchat - closing off the app roughly. you wipe your leaking nose with the back of your hand, cleaning yourself up of any salty tears.

behind you, the patio door creaks open and just as quickly, it closes. jack walks in behind you, his cheeks tinted red from the day outside in the sun.

you swallow thickly, swiftly looking away so he doesn't catch your puffy, red eyes. you almost want to laugh in this moment - because, of course it was jack of all people who would walk in when you're on the borderline of an emotional breakdown. you reach into the box of white claws left open on the island - not in the fridge because you preferred them warm (you'll have to thank whoever left them out for you).

just as you pull out your desired flavour, the sound of a bottle cap sounds on the counter top, followed by the sloshing sounds of jack pouring his hard liquor into a cup.

your eyes flicker up, watching jack's diet coke mix with the clear liquor at the bottom of his plastic cup. you can smell the woodsy bonfire smell off his clothes, mixing with his usual spicy cologne.

suddenly, he looks away from his drink and across the island at you. his eyes dart between yours, like he was analyzing your somber expression - then his gaze moves around your face, noticing your blotchy cheeks and pink puffy lips. jack looks away for a second, brows pulling tight as he completes his drink. "why are you crying this time?”

the sound of your full can hitting the counter top echoes throughout the empty house and jack looks up rather quickly, meeting your eyes again. your shoulders deflate - too disappointed to even feel proper anger. "seriously?" you sigh, and your tone clearly indicates that you're feeling upset by his question.

jack shrugs once, wiping up some melted ice with one of the crumpled napkins that had been abandoned on the kitchen island. "well?" his words are knowing- his tone condescending.

you feel yourself beginning to tear up for the second time tonight, expect for some reason the tears currently threatening to fall felt more painful than the ones from ethan. jack doesn't say anything else and only looks at you expectantly- waiting for you to further breakdown.

you huff - all earlier feelings of sadness are quickly replaced with irritation and frustration caused by jack and his insufferable attitude towards you. "why do you treat me so terribly, jack? fuck," you sigh, wiping at your face angrily as you feel a few unwanted tears fall. "I came on this vacation to try and relax and forget about the past few weeks by spending time with my friends, and you have made it your mission to keep me miserable. god, even your girlfriend has been treating me better than you have, and she's a stranger." you finish roughly, swallowing thickly as you try and gauge jack's face for his reaction to your outburst.

you feel a little embarrassed about ranting about your emotions and anger towards jack...to jack. but you hold your ground, keeping you gaze on him.

jack clears his throat thickly. "she's not my girlfriend."

you laugh in disbelief, the sound mixing with a scoff. is that all he had to say? no apology? no reasoning for his seemingly amplified hate towards you this vacation? jack looks away from your somber face, and you have all the answers you need.

without another glance, you grab the white claw off the counter, the metal can scraping against the granite as you do so. you quickly make your way back outside, walking through the dimly lit backyard - saved from the fire pit glow.

you take your original seat on one of the blue campfire chairs, curling your legs under yourself as you look towards the roaring, tangerine flames.  beside you, you can feel luke eyeing you curiously - trying to analyze your exhausted expression. you don't give him the satisfaction though, keeping your eyes trained on the fire as you take a sip of your drink.

roughly five minutes pass before jack comes back outside, no drink cup in sight. you watch through the light of the bonfire as he sits next to sydney, and the two of them exchange a brief conversation before sydney turns away from him completely- a look of disbelief on her face.

you see jack shrug grumpily just before you move your attention away from them - you've had plenty enough jack for the night.

it isn't ten minutes later you find yourself becoming overwhelmed with exhaustion and you excuse yourself from the dying bonfire to head up to bed.

four: the injury

your face scrunches up involuntarily, the strong taste of tequila burning and warming your throat as you down another shot.

once you manage to swallow the alcohol, you holler in your own mini celebration- the affects of many, many, many drinks controlling you and your actions completely.

on the speaker you’d placed somewhere in the backyard earlier into the late night, the familiar chords of a drake song begin to play, and you gasp happily. “I looooovvvvveeeee this song!” you drag out your wording, the sentence slurred together in a drunken manner.

trevor laughs at you near the dying bonfire, his head dropping in an amused embarrassment. a couple other laughs are heard nearby, but you don’t find yourself caring all that much. after your previous miserable night and another demeaning conversation with jack, you told yourself you’d allow yourself get more loose. you didn’t necessarily mean getting sloshed by yourself, but a win is a win.

you practically squeal in delight, coming to a skipping halt infront of the youngest hughes brother. you pout largely, “come dance with me lukey."

thankfully, luke is a good sport and allows you to take ahold of his hands and pull him out of his caping chair - although, he is the one is pulling himself up because drunk you is one misstep from completely toppling over. the corner of luke’s mouth quirks into a smirk as you wave his arms around for him - belting out the lyrics to the song without hesitation.

letting go of luke, you take a wobbly step onto the picnic table you’d been around all night, sidestepping the hoodie you’d been wearing before the alcohol warmed you up. your hips sway to the music, and you smile warmly. you spin around on the wooden planks, but your state has taken away all your sense of balance and stability, so you’re closer to the edge than you expected.

your foot slips over the edge, and you fall onto the gravelled surface of the fire pit area.

“oh shit.” trevor winces - luke had tried to catch you before you hit the ground but his reflex’s had failed him, and trevor is met with you laying uncomfortably on the gravel.

beside him, jack shoots up from his chair, a look of undeniable concern on his soft features. trevor stands as well, both of them making their way over to help in assisting you. everyone else had previously gone to bed, and if it was sober you seeing that trevor, luke and jack being the only options to help you in your current state- you’d shit your pants.

but you’re drunk, so all you can do is focus on the burning sensation on your skin and immediate ache all over your body. “ouch,” you whine. once you’re eyes focus again, you get a proper look at the palm of your hand, and the sight of the raw wound has tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

drunk, embarrassed and hurt wasn’t your best look.

trevor curses again, "luke help me find the first aid kit," he stands from his previous squatting position next to you as he finished checking you over, nudging the youngest brother on his thick shoulder.

before the two of them disappear from your sight, luke looks back at you sternly, pointing a finger at you. “stay here.”

you’re left with nobody but jack. the gravel is cool on your thighs, and the dwindling fire is doing nothing to warm your shivering muscles. tearily, you look over at jack. "i'm sorry," you sniff, eyes darting back down to examine your palm. blood is mixing with bits of dirt and minuscule stones, making your wound sting terribly. "I slipped really bad."

you look at him again, his crouched position making it easier for you to do so. jack’s brows pull together tightly, his gaze flickering over your blotchy face. “you're fine, y/n. stop crying."

despite the harsh tone, jack takes ahold of your hand gently - one of his hands wrapping along your wrist while the other cradles the underside of your hand.

he brings your wounded hand towards his face, and immediately starts gently blowing on your palm. the cool air from his mouth helps soothe the pain temporarily, and it helps keep your tears at ease.

the night air suddenly feels even colder, and the temperature drop combined with the cool air on your palm has you shifting uncomfortably - you were cold.

jack stops, his eye gentle but words still firm. "stay still."

you sniffle again, and wipe your leaky nose with the back of your good hand. "I wanna go inside i'm cold."

"yeah, okay.” jack sighs quickly, moving his body so that he’s able to help you properly get to your feet. his one hand still cradles your wounded hand, while his other wraps around the dip of your waist. the feeling of his torso on yours is rather comforting, and the heat of his body radiating through his sweatshirt instantly makes you feel warmer.

he shuts the back door with his foot, and the thump of it closing echos in the empty kitchen. jack lets go of you in favour of turning on the kitchen sink, and you’re pretty sure you pout at the loss of contact.

it doesn’t take long before the water runs to comfortable temperature, and jack brings your hand towards the stream - your palm angled upwards and slightly tilted so the warm water flushers the scrape.

you hiss through your teeth, muttering a curse. the sting has a new wave of tears prickling at your eyes, and you can feel your throat grow thick with emotion. "that really stings." you admit gently, using your shoulder to wipe away a tear as it falls from your bloodshot eye.

jack looks at you softly, nodding with an understanding expression. “I know," he whispers - a sweet, silent echo in the quiet house. his fingers flex around your wrist, running over your pulse point delicately. jack looks down, back at your hand, "you're doing good though."

you swallow harshly, blinking away the millions of emotions flowing freely through your body. jack has never been so gentle with you, or as kind to you as he is currently being. it is actually really nice and you find yourself smiling gently - despite the burning sensation on your hand.

trevor rounds the corner into the kitchen, luke following with the first aid kit tucked under his bicep. "I thought you were staying outside." luke says knowingly, eyeing the two of you suspiciously once he registers what is actually happening infront of his very eyes.

trevor sends the youngest hughes a look, both of them having the same confused expression on their faces.

"she was cold." jack interjects immediately, answering for you.

thankfully, there was nothing too deeply embedded in your raw skin, so the rest of the cleaning process went pretty smoothly. jack had helped dry your hand as gently as he possibly could with paper towel, and then luke had poured the peroxide onto the raw scratches. that had you wincing uncomfortably again, your head hitting against jack’s outer bicep as you dropped your gaze to the floor.

luke delicately wrapped your hand in a bandage, sighing gently as the whole ordeal of it all came to a close. "alrighty, let's get you to bed." trevor says tiredly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he begins to guide you through the kitchen.

just before you exit, you find jack’s gaze on you, his expression still gentle. you smile tightly, "thank you." your words are still a little slurred and you definitely sound tired, but jack can hear you just fine.

he nods once, a very small closed mouth smile making a brief appearance.

five: the hike + the dishes

the sound of nature around you was pure magic. you breathe in happily amidst your huffy exhale, continuing to walk on the beautiful hiking trail along side the hughes' lake property.

alex rushes past you, ashley following soon after as she tries to beat him in a foot race. you smile happily, watching alex turn on her and scoop ashley in his arms. she squeals delightfully, letting the hockey player manhandle her.

a pang of sadness hits your chest watching your friend so happy and infatuated with someone. you missed being in love and the feelings of want and need that came with it. you missed having somebody constantly in your corner and somebody waiting for you at home.

it wasn't that ethan was ever a bad boyfriend, but the relationship wasn't fulfilling enough. it was simply just easy - it lacked deep emotion and yearning.

you watch ashley blush as alex kisses her cheek quickly and you can't help but wish somebody was as obsessed with you as alex was with your best friend.

weirdly enough, it has you thinking about jack. when you woke up this morning with a blurry memory and a bandage around your hand, to say you were confused would be an understatement. you felt oddly peaceful among it all though, and that was even more worrisome.

luke told you that you'd fallen and scrapped your hand - which makes sense. but there was something else in the air, you could tell by the way luke and trevor seemed smug while you all ate breakfast, and how jack seemed especially quiet. jack had yet to make any unnecessarily rude comments today, which was of course nice - but weirdly enough it didn't feel right.

"let me get on your back," trevor comes up beside you, a wide grin on his tanned face. it pulls you from your thoughts, and you push down any lingering confusion about the off vibe from this morning.

you roll your eyes gently, but stop walking. you squat down slightly, locking your knees so trevor can climb on. "hop on trev."

he wastes no time getting onto your back, and you grunt out from the added weight to your body. you only make it twenty small, slow steps before tapping out - breathless with laughter.

trevor offers you a piggy back ride as an apology for borderline collapsing you under his weight, which you take happily. once you're secure, trevor instantly makes alex race with ashley on his back and of course alex complies - the four of you darting away on the trail.

from afar, luke breathes a pleasant laugh, watching the four of you run around like loose chickens. he falls into line with his second oldest brother, the two of them walking in a comfortable silence, finally without the constant pestering from trevor.

luke has noticed jacks sudden quietness, and he too is a bit confused on what exactly is going on. luke thinks jack must feel guilty for acting his typical way around you, and that's why jack has been more reserved today.

luke clears his throat gently, eyeing jack. "this is good for her, you know. she's been so sad recently because of ethan...i've been worried about her."

jack swallows, eyes trained in the distance. he watches you laugh at something ashley says - your body folding completely over and your mouth opening as you do that scream laugh you always do when something is truly funny. he tears his eyes away from you, gaze landing on the mud coloured path below his feet.

luke continues, "and listen jack, I know you hate her, and you guys have this uncomfortable bickering thing going on but- "

"I don't hate her," jack interrupts his brother sternly, "I've never hated her."

luke's brows twitch slightly, raising ever so subtly and he carefully studies his brothers expression, "okay, well, I don't think y/n knows that. and whatever you guys are doing, it makes her really sad - I can tell."

luke walks away, jogging to catch up with you all. he tells ashley he needs a turn on alex's back, which immediately starts another race conversation.

jack sighs, blinking up towards the trees. the conversation with his younger brother, combined with last night, really has the way he's been handling his emotions and actions towards you, not sitting right in his stomach. he feels extremely guilty, and he wishes he would of handled the situation differently.

jack looks away from the tree line, and finds you looking back at him softly over the line of your exposed shoulder. you look slightly confused, but jack can tell you're trying to hide your curiosity by keeping your face neutral.

he sighs to himself, and makes his way over to you and the rest of the group.

—

the sky is overcome with darkness, and a comfortable silence enveloped the inside of the lake house as 10 p.m. approached.

luke and beatrice were watching a movie with ashley and quinn downstairs in the den, trevor had been sleeping on the couch for the past hour, and alex had fallen asleep in his bedroom just 20 minutes ago - sydney even before that after she claimed she wasn't feeling well before dinner.

the silence was peaceful, and even as trevor begins to snore gently across from you, it's not a bothersome sound - it's familiar and comfortable.

you stand from your spot nestled under throws on the couch, leaving the living room and a sleeping trevor. the hike earlier had pretty much tired the majority of you out, and the ones who hadn't come on the hike were still tired from the sun they'd been in back at the house all day.

so although you were also ready for bed, you knew the dishes sitting in the sink from spaghetti dinner needed to be done. after all, it's the least you could do with the kind hospitality the hughes brothers had showed you on this vacation.

you've got soap suds up your forearms as you work on the large plates - cleaning them of their saucy, cheesy mess. the hum on the refrigerator and the sound of impractical jokers from the living room tv provide the perfect white noise, and you find yourself getting lost in your own head as you washed the dishes.

footsteps approach gently, somebody rounding the corner behind you. "hi," jack says, slowing in his steps.

you look over your shoulder, "hi." you put the last clean plate into your designated clean side of the sink, and you wipe your pruned hands on your bottoms. 

jack leans against the countertop, and the muscles in his forearms shift as he grips the edge of the granite. "if I knew you were doing dishes, I wouldn't of brought these down."

you notice the couple of small plates and the mug jack had put on the island counter, presumably from his bedroom upstairs.

you shrug gently, reaching across the small space between you and jack to grab the small stack of dishes. you shrug quickly, dropping them into your soapy side of the sink. "I don't mind."

jack rounds the side of the island and moves over towards you. his socked foot nudges against yours as jack borderline lunges across you, trying to take his dishes back. "i'm not going to make you do my dishes."

you laugh gently, "it's fine, really." you pick up the scratchy sponge, but jack snatches it out from your hands just as you do. you huff gently, one of your eyebrows raising in an amused manner. "jack, what are you doing?"

"i'll do them." he insists firmly. his fingers slide smoothly over yours, almost interlocking them under the soapy, warm water your hands are submerged under.

you don't give in, fingers tightening on rim of the new jersey devils branded coffee mug. with suspicion, you continue to eye him. "why are you being weird?"

he laughs once, a deep rumble of disbelief. "i'm not being weird."

"you are." you chime instantly.

jack is practically trying to pry your hands off the mug, and while he's focused on that task, you snatch the damp sponge back. you look at him smugly, waving the sponge infront of his face, a gentle ha passing your lips.

he sighs gently, "you're the one being a weirdo and doing my dishes after I said I can do them - you're not my maid."

you dip the sponge into the water and begin to scrub the coffee stains on the inside of the mug - soap splashing over the edge of the sink and wetting your pastel pink tank top. " I know that, but i'm trying to be a good guest."

jack watches you focus on the dishes, your eyebrows slightly furrowed and tongue poking out to wet your bottom lip. he finds himself mimicking you, and his own tongue licks over his lips to moisten them.

you look back up at him curiously, waiting for an inevitable response.

he clears his throat quietly, "you can be a good guest by doing nothing." without warning, he steps closer into your space, bumping you gently off to the side with his hip. the suprise of it all has you going freely, your hands leaving the dishes involuntarily. jack smiles teasingly, running the sponge over the front of a desert plate left from last nights chocolate brownies.

you huff, pushing your way back to the sink. jack's much stronger than you though, so he doesn't budge at your attempt to push him out of the way. in a mixture of amusement and disbelief, you laugh out, your hands resting on your hips as you look at jack - your eyes almost twinkling with delight. "that's not me - that’s not how I do things."

jack snickers knowingly, because he's well aware now of how you are. you've always shown compassion and caring for others and have always taken on that polite, motherly role that always has you thinking of others. it's something jack has inevitably always noticed when it came to you - he notices more about you than he allows himself to admit.

you reach into the sink quickly, taking the last two plates out of the dirty water and bringing them to your chest. immediately, your tank top is becoming soaked and drops of lukewarm water fall off the ceramic and hit the kitchen floor mat between you and jack.

jack looks at you with something similar to shock, his tongue poking against his cheek in a way to mask his growing smirk.

"you're ridiculous." he hums.

you back away slowly, the dishes still clutched in your hands. one of your brows raise challengingly, rounding the corner of the island counter. "yeah?"

jack's slinky smirk is the last thing you register before he darts towards you, coming around the other side of the island as he attempts to grab you.

you spin away from him, turning your torso around so that you've got the plates out of reach.

jack laughs, reaching around you in another attempt at grabbing the wet dishes - although now, the plates are becoming dry with your tank top soaking up all the water.

you giggle, and try to slip between the counter and jack's torso, quickly, to try and create some space between jack and the plates. it's an unsuccessful attempt, and jack pushes you against the island with his hips. now that you're trapped, jack plucks the plates right out of your grip, holding them out and away from you.

the press of his body on yours has you feeling syrupy - the time around you coming to a hard, screeching halt. you look up at him gently, watching as jack's previous smile falters, a much more serious expression taking over his flushed face.

you swallow, anticipating building low in your belly. your eyes don't leave jacks, even when his arm lowers, putting the plates on the counter with a gentle clink. your heartbeat increases, and you can feel it pumping loudly in your ears. in that moment, you and jack forget about everything- you forgot how trevor is only a room away, you forget the stupid arguments and the anger...it all fades into the background.

jacks tongue passes through his lips, wetting them slowly as he hovers over you. his eyes flicker between your eyes before finding your plump lips - slightly parted as a hitched breath is pulled between them.

just as softy, jack's hand comes up towards your face and he places it against your cheek, cradling your sunkissed, freckled skin. his palm is warm and a little sweaty, but it makes everything so much more raw.

his thumb strokes the shell of your ear gently, a little comforting movement that has you holding your breath.

jack leans down, nudging his sloped nose against yours sweetly before he kisses you deeply, lips enveloping yours in a tight, passionate embrace.

instantly, you find yourself grabbing ahold of jack, desperately needing to feel him under your hands. your fingers grip the material of his shirt, pulling him tightly so he becomes impossibly closer.

it was almost odd in a way, kissing somebody who before this very moment, you thought hated you. which was why you were left slightly confused on why kissing jack hughes felt so right.

your movements become more desperate- frantic. jack lifts you effortlessly, sitting you on top of the kitchen island. your legs spread instinctively, and he wastes to time slotting his body between your thighs. with his lips still messily on yours, jack pulls your hips to the edge of the counter, bumping your clothed crotches together.

between you, one of jacks hands rest on the edge of your waist band, two fingers dipping underneath the top of your leggings - teasing you.

you're body feels like it's on fire - that burning sensation you've always had around jack is just as prevalent as ever. when jack's hand slides down the threshold of your tights and he begins to palm you though your thin panties, you pull away mere inches, breathless.

"please," you whine quietly, bucking your hips so that jacks fingers slip over your wet underwear. it's successful, and he thumbs around your clit deliciously.

"fuck - i got you." he nods against you, hooking your panties off to the side underneath your leggings. he curses again as he slides his ring and middle finger through your folds, collecting your arousal and bringing it up towards your clit and down again.

you whine pathetically, head falling backwards - disconnecting your lips from jacks.

his free hand glides over your clothes chest, passing over your painfully hardened nipples, before he rounds to the back of your neck - pulling you back upwards so you're looking at him.

"you're so wet," he whispers, pressing a sloppy kiss to the junction of your neck. your pulse jumps, and your hips move again - desperately trying to get jack's fingers inside you.

you moan, watching the outline of jack's hand move against your core through your pants. it's all so dirty and erotic - you don't think you've ever been this turned on at the thought of being fingered.

jack shushes you, his usual demanding tone present. "be quiet for me pretty girl, okay? you think you can be quiet?"

you're completely at his mercy - not even having the slightest urge to tease him and bite back at his question. all you can do is nod quickly, breathless as you gaze into his warm eyes.

at that, two of jacks calloused fingertips tease your dripping entrance, feeling through the mushy arousal. you bite your lip, holding onto the moans that are on the brink of passing through your lips. his eyes don't leave yours while he pushes the entire length of his tail fingers into you, and you gasp at the adrenaline of it all.

jack's mouth falls open slightly, basking in the feeling of your gooey walls tightly welcoming his fingers. he begins to pump them in and out of your entrance, and even with the limited space, it still feels amazing.

you grab his face, pulling jack in for another needy kiss. it's mostly hot breath and spit, but neither of you seem to mind.

the way jacks fingers expertly work your spongy walls and the feeling of his palm bumping your clit deliciously, has the tiny coil in your stomach tightening - ready to snap.

you pull back, "i'm going to cum."

"fuck," jack smirks quickly, so fast you can't even register it, and he leans back into you - pressing a sweet kiss to your blotchy cheek. "cum for me, baby, I can feel your pussy clenching down on me - you're so beautiful."

it's the final push you needed, the band snapping and sending your body over the edge into a euphoric state. you see white, releasing your juices all over jack's hand and wetting the seam of your leggings. you start to moan, but he silences you, pressing his wet lips against yours.

his fingers come to a slow stop, allowing you to ride out your blissed high. you hum against him, running a hand through his grown out hair, tugging gently at the roots.

jack moans into your mouth at the feeling, automatically grinding his hard dick against your wet crotch.

the couch creeks, and the sound of trevor's socked feet hit the hardwood floor loudly - signalling he's awake and on the move.

quickly, jack removes himself from between your legs, and you hop off the counter just as fast. your legs almost give out on you, but thankfully you catch yourself.

trevor walks into the kitchen just as you take ahold of the plates, bringing them back over to the sink in hopes to appear busy. he is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a big yawn echoing through the kitchen- trevor's jaw cracking.

jack fixes his obvious hard-on, his back turned to his friend. he hopes trevor doesn't notice, and thankfully the ducks forward is too sleepy and can't even properly open his eyes.

"what are you two doing?" trevor hums curiously, moving past you in favour of grabbing a glass from the cabinet.

you can barley hear him over the thumping heartbeat in your ears - your hands are shaky under the now cold, soapy water in the sink.

"nothing, just cleaning up." thankfully, jack answers trevor in an appropriate way - seeming completely nonchalant.

as trevor opens the fridge in search of the brita, you quickly glance over your shoulder, seeking out jack. as you do, jack meets your eyes and he sends you a quick wink. the fridge clicks shut, and you both look away.

six: the beginning

there was something so peaceful about the sunset - you'd take it over the sunrise anytime of the year. the stunning shades of fuscha mixed with the dark reds and neon oranges - combining with the upcoming navy night sky. watching the world infront of you go to sleep was just so refreshing.

the evening was warm, and a light breeze slinked through the air providing the perfect temperature combination for an approaching summer evening. the wood of the dock is slightly harsh against your bare thighs, but you'll put up with it for some much needed time away from inside.

after jack fingering you on the kitchen island the night before, your mind has been reeling with what it all meant. you had come to your own realization that you weren't fighting with jack because you didn't like him - but rather the opposite. you've been seeking his approval for years, desperately wanting him to like you the way you've always liked him.

you had been pushing those feelings so deep down that when you came to the realization, you almost didn't believe yourself. you don't know what last night meant for jack, and you didn't know how jack actually felt about you.

this morning, when you were all gathered in the kitchen, snacking on your respective breakfast foods, jack had eyed you teasingly, hiding his growing smirk with the side of his cereal bowl. you had blushed into your glass of orange juice, choosing to not look back - too scared to get caught.

then you had thought about sydney, the girl jack had brought to the lake house to join your vacation. jack told you a few nights ago that they weren't dating, but they also didn't seem like just friends.

everything piling on top of one another was very quickly becoming overwhelming, and for the entire day you were left wallowing in your own confused thoughts.

so that's why as the sun began to set, you came out to the boat dock, resting quietly by yourself - trying to tame the tornado made up of thoughts and ideas in your head. 

the sound of footsteps gently approach behind you, echoing against the faded wood. you turn down the taylor swift playing quietly on your phone until it's borderline silent, looking over your shoulder to find out who was making their way over to you.

jack smiles gently, looking very athletic in his black lulu shorts that displayed his thigh muscles delightfully, paired with a team branded tshirt. once he's close enough, he greets you gently before dropping down beside you. jack sits in a similar position, resting his forearms on his kneecaps, while you are hugging your legs to your chest.

it's silent for a few minutes, both of you bathing in the warm setting sunshine and basking in the comfortable silence each of your provided.

you choose to speak first, a slightly shaky exhale leaving your lips. "I don't know where to go from here, jack." you admit vulnerably, tearing your eyes away from the still water and looking over to him. "I mean, for years I thought you hated me and until last night I was set on that, but now...I don't even know what's going on." you laugh gently, tone thick with disbelief.

his brows pull together tightly, creating a little divet in the middle of his face. "I've never hated you...ever."

"then why did it feel like you did?"

jack watches the way your eyes gloss over, the moisture shining under the bright sun. he sighs gently, running a hand through his hair quickly - an attempt to try and relax his beating heart. "I thought that you hated me, y/n. so I would only argue with you because....I don't know, fuck." he curses, taking a shaky breath. "no - fuck this. I like you, really like you. so if you laughed at somebody else's jokes or if you were dating somebody else, I'd get so jealous that I would immediately go into this defensive zone- pushing you away with really horrible words."

he continues, "I was an asshole. I thought that you hated me and that made me mad, because I really wanted you. and I know that's a horrible excuse but it's the truth. I wanted you and thought I couldn't have you, so i'd lash out at you. i'm so sorry."

your breath hitches. you can't believe what you've just heard, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure it wasn't some longing dream you hadn't woke up from just yet. although his words seem authentic, you still feel weary. he could just be trying to get back in your pants, or maybe he was looking for some sadistic way to hurt you - maybe he actually did hate you. "how do I know you're not just saying this?"

jack laughs once gently, warm gaze looking out towards the water. he wets his lower lip before he looks back at your watery eyes and shaky lips. he sighs, "I didn't forget you and ethan broke up, I only asked because I wanted to make sure you didn't get back together - shitty, I know, but I couldn't think of another way to do it, I needed to know." he continues, "when I went grocery shopping with quinn, I was the one who picked out orange juice because I knew you liked it. I made sure nobody put the white claws in the fridge because I know you like your seltzers warm. when you hurt yourself by the fire pit, I blew on your scrape because I remember one time you told quinn that cool air always made your cuts feel better. I knew you'd be the one doing the dishes last night because you can never relax, so that's why I brought mine down - because any excuse to be near you, i’ll take."

you say his name, throat thick with emotion.

jack swallows thickly, voice dropping into a deep sigh. "I brought sydney here to try and make you jealous. and I know that's horrible, and I apologized to her a million times already. everything i've said to you and done to you is horrible, and i'm so fucking sorry."

"jack," you begin, "all that stuff you just said...I don't realize how well you know me."

he smiles gently, "I've had many years of watching you from a distance to learn."

your nose scrunches playfully, "that sounds really creepy."

he laughs, a real laugh that he usually only lets out around trevor and his brothers. but here he was, his shoulder brushing yours as he admits his feelings for you and laughs at your teasing. "it does doesn't it?"

you hum, shrugging your shoulders. "I can't say anything really, because i've been watching you from afar this whole time as well. I like you so much, jack. i'm so sorry for everything; the arguing, the rude comments and everything else. I should've just admitted my feelings - to you and myself."

he smiles, and the arm closest to you moves to wrap around your shoulders. jack brings your body into his, tucking you into his chiseled torso comfortably. "you're forgiven." his tone is teasing, and when you look up at him with a faux scowl, jack is already watching you playfully.

you pout your lips at him, feigning disappointment from his teasing comment.

jack rolls his eyes amusingly, and the last thing you see is his slinky smirk before he gives in and presses his lips to yours. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[jamminvroomvroom]

our secret moments.

ln x fem!reader // childhood friend to lovers

in which you’re friends. best friends. but then you buy a dress for him to take off.

this one is for you guys. thank you for inspiring this, my beloved dress anons. i hope you guys love this as much as i do, and that i got it right for you! obsessed with the concepts and brain rot that went into this aaaaaaa lemme know what you think i beg <3 also sorry if the formatting gets weird, trying out smau elements again :D

songs to set the mood: DRESS by taylor swift

warnings: 18+!! minors dni! smut, oblivious friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, mutual pining, general sex acts, language, an argument

5.6k words

-

your dress sparkles like a mirrorball as the lights flash along the strip.

vegas week begins with a bang; it’s the night of lando’s 24th birthday. the name of your dad’s company is plastered all over the city, as it usually is wherever there’s a race weekend. a round of golf leads to dinner plans and you get dressed up nice with your girlfriends.

you’re almost ready when lando texts you, your friends giving you a look that you brush off when they see the papaya heart next to his name. you tell him you’ll all be ready soon, that’ll you meet him and the boys in the lobby.

high heels sound against the marble floor of the hotel. you walk confidently, tall, scanning for the group of men you’ll be spending the evening with. you spot max fewtrell first, your dear friend here for the occasion, and then ash, who has his back to you. it’s because he’s talking to lando, your best friend, the man that made you fly in to sin city a week earlier than you would have liked.

he’s looking at you before you even see him, watching you walk towards him over ash’s shoulder. he’s checked out from the conversation the second he spots you, glittering under the chandeliers. he can’t breathe, because you’re wearing a dress that renders him somewhere between life and death.

but you’re getting closer, and max, who can see the look on lando’s awestruck face, nudges him so hard in the ribs. he forces himself to inhale, smile, keep breathing.

��good evening, mr norris.” you grin, squeezing his shoulder. “we starting with slots or drinks?”

both is the agreed upon answer, and you let loose in the casino. you watch him roll the dice at one of the game tables, and suddenly, you’re twelve years old again, playing board games on the floor of a hotel room, while your dads talk at the bar downstairs.

your father is, perhaps, the worlds biggest motorsport fan. he’d been sponsoring different series’ since you were little, and he hadn’t stopped expanding as you’d gotten older. that’s how you’d met lando, aged ten years old with braids in your hair, covered in mud, somewhere in the english countryside. you’d been going to kart races since you could walk, and you were sure from the first time you spoke to the small british boy that you’d be destined to meet him. he’d left a mark on you that day, something golden; he radiated sunshine.

your friendship flowed like wine over the years, nice and easy. time on the road with your father meant that lando was the friend you saw the most, and it stayed that way throughout your teenage years. lando’s step up into formula 1 was paired very well with your dad’s investment into mclaren, and five years later, you rarely missed a race.

lando was so easy to be friends with that it was only natural that he was just as easy to love. platonically. you loved him platonically. it was easy to have late night dinner’s with him in his hotel room, easy to walk around the cities you visited with him until your legs hurt, easy to fall asleep on his bed after a netflix binge. so when he told you to pack your bags and be in vegas, it was like he’d pulled an invisible string, because of course, that’s where you would be.

your friend is waving her hand in front of your face when you finally snap out of it. you’ve been staring across the room for god knows how long, and now the girls are laughing at you.

okay, so maybe it’s not just platonically, but you’d rather die than admit it.

“still gonna tell us there’s nothing between you?” nancy, one of your closest friends, teases. your other friend, mia, is giggling beside her. they’d both flown out for the race as well, and had spent the last two years helplessly watching you fall harder and faster.

“shut up,” you whine. “he’s my-“

“best friend.” they both cut you off in unison, mockingly. nancy rolls her eyes.

“he is!” you protest, waving them off.

you leave them in the dust to join the lads at the table. lando’s arm is draped over your shoulder the second you arrive.

“lost your millions yet?” you whisper into his ear. he tuts in response, knowing grin on his face.

“you have no faith in me, honey.” he bumped your hip with his as he spoke.

the game continues, and somehow, much to your surpise, lando gets richer. the walk from the casino to the club is short, and soon enough, you’re drunk and sweating under strobe lights. rounds and rounds of shots disappear and you sink deeper and deeper into the booth you’d reserved.

you let the music thrum through your body, closing your eyes in contentment. a knee nudges yours, and you open your eyes to see lando sliding into the booth next to you. he hands you a drink, and you mouth him a thank you.

“got your eye on anyone here?” lando’s head is resting in the crook of your neck when he asks. it’s obviously just so that you can hear him.

you pull back from him, scanning his face for a moment, really taking him in. the slope of his nose, curls matted on his forehead, grey blue eyes that you swear flit to your lips for just a second. just a brief second. you smile, soft and tired.

“nope.” you mouth back to him. “you?”

lando returns your smile, mirroring you perfectly. he shakes his head.

it’s around 3:30am when you crave the sweet release of sleep. your feet are aching and your head is throbbing. no questions are asked when lando offers you a piggyback ride.

you ignore the way your friends look at you both when he carries you up to your room.

youruser just posted on instagram

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youruser: sin city for nozza’s birthday

user: are they together?

otheruser: mother?

landonorris: lost millions.

user2: the photo of the dress next to the photos of lando? she’s tryna tell us something i think.

and 444 other comments

-

you ignore the nausea pooling in the pit of your belly.

apparently, the medical centre isn’t that far away when you sprint there. harsh fluorescent lights greet you when you burst through the door, searching for a mop of curls and a burst of orange. your eyes find adam, lando’s dad, and you rush to his side.

“is he okay?” something about the fear in your eyes makes adam crack a smile. it seems there’s no hiding how you feel from anyone except lando.

“they’re just checking him over now, think they might take him to the hospital, just to be safe.” adam explains. “he was asking for you.” he smiles again.

“so it’s just precautionary?” you ignore the last bit. you ignore the way it makes your stomach twist and your brain fight to keep a smile off of your face.

“you can see him, if you want.” adam gestures towards the nearest examination room.

you’re gone before he can say anything more, bursting into the room without even thinking of knocking.

lando’s pretty much stoned. god knows what they gave him but it seems to be working; he’s propped up on the bed, cracks a sleepy smile when he sees you.

“hey, pretty girl.” he drawls, waving slowly. you pray you’re not blushing.

“scared me out there, you prick.” you joke, but your voice shakes.

“c’mere.” he frowns, so you walk around his bed. he slaps the small spot next to him clumsily, and you perch on the edge of the bed.

lando grabs your hand, pulling you in closer, eyelids drooping as he does it.

“i’m sorry, honey. always wanna race well for you.” lando is pouting. he’s fucking pouting at you.

“hey, hey, it’s fine! as long as you’re okay.”

he nods like a child being told off, but he doesn’t drop your hand. he doesn’t drop it in the helicopter to the hospital, either.

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youruser: alls well that ends well (but i’m in a new hell every time you go to the hospital)

landonorris: whoops?

user1: THE TAYLOR LYRICS HELLO?

user44: do y’all think we can’t see you.

user2: 3RD SLIDE HELLO?

yourfriendnancy: anyway. the dress ate.

otheruser: @ yourfriendnancy WHAT DO YOU KNOW

and 567 other comments

-

“i just don’t get why you keep wearing the fucking shoes if they hurt so much.” lando bumps your shoulder with his, teasing you.

“sometimes you do what you gotta do for the ‘fit.” you huff, trying to keep up with him.

you’re on your way to dinner with lando, marking your first night in dubai. the restaurant isn’t too far, but your shoes are simply not cooperating. you’d left lando to book a table, knowing that a name drop from him would mean good food and not too many people there to watch you both eat it. after vegas, the rumour mill was working overtime, and you’d had a headache for two days as a result.

none of your other friends have arrived in the emirates yet, so it leaves just the two of you to hang out. it’s something you usually love to do, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, it makes your tummy twist.

you can’t stop thinking about the hospital, your hand in his, the way he’d demanded you accompany him despite the presence of his literal father. you absolutely can’t stop thinking about “pretty girl” or the lazy smile on his face when he said it, like it was what he always called you. he usually sticks to honey, not the most platonic thing in the world, but he said it once and it just stuck.

you’re pulled out of your downward spiral by the way he suddenly comes to a stop in the middle of the pavement. you look at him confused, but then he’s making a suggestion that makes you want to lay done in front of an oncoming ferrari.

“want me to carry your shoes? you can put them on right before we go in.” lando shrugs. you must be blushing by the way he fights off a smile.

“lando, i cannot walk down the streets of dubai shoeless.” you scowl. he chuckles.

“says who? give ‘em here. you can wear mine if you want.” lando reasons, and after staring at him likes he’s grown a second head, you cave.

you start to crouch down but he beats you to it. your breath hitches in your throat when his fingers graze your ankle. you watch in shocked silence as he undoes each clasp, letting you step out of the shoes. the pavement is relatively cool under your feet, and it snaps you out of your state. you decline his offer of his own shoes, and he’s started walking again when you stop him.

“lando, why are you doing this?”

“you took good care of me last weekend. least i can do.” he tells you, and you nod once. “c’mon, we’re gonna be late.” he ushers you along and you walk the rest of the way in silence, silver heels swinging in his hand.

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youruser: dinner w bestie

user: lando took this. bet.

user3: her other friends aren’t in abu dhabi yet she has to be with lando

landonorris: how was dinner?

youruser: @ landonorris u tell me.

user4: a date if i ever saw one?

user63: are we sure they’re not just friends?

user4: @ user63 girl. be so fr

and 329 other comments

-

the restaurant is licensed, so you find solace in a glass of white wine. lando sticks to water.

your mains arrive and you natter back and forth, discussing the end of the season and any gossip you may have acquired. you barely stop laughing, head thrown back every time he opens his mouth. it feels easy again, and you find yourself thawing out, previous worries shoved to the back of your mind.

“so what’s next year looking like? last year of your degree.” lando wiggles his eyebrows, wearing a hint of pride on his face.

“might have to stay away from race tracks for a while. it’s gonna be a busy year.” you sigh. his face obviously falls.

“how long is a while? need my cheerleader.” it’s said in jest, but desperation lies in the outskirts of his voice.

“until the summer break.” you frown. you’d gotten far too comfortable studying on the road.

“can’t you continue as you are? i’m gonna mis- your dad will miss you.” lando corrects himself and your fork clatters against your plate.

“can’t get rid of me too easily, norris.” you clean up the awkward mess before it can even become one, returning to the lighter side of the conversation.

“trust me, i’m not trying to.” he flirts. in jest.

you roll your eyes and gulp down wine.

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youruser: new heights n pretty lights

user2: i know who took 3/4 of these pics.

landonorris: i want that hat back btw

user6: she is the moment

user: mommy? huh who said that?

and 588 other comments

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lando.jpg: from the road

oscarpiastri: violation.

youruser: can u send me these. especially the one of oscar :)

user4: WAIT didn’t she post the second one a while? LANDO TOOK IT?

user81: oscar 😭😭

maxfewtrell: why don’t you take nice pictures of me like this?

user11: the wags are fighting omg

and 799 other comments

-

your back is to his chest and the music is unbearable. it doesn’t stop you from swaying your hips against his.

nothing beats the abu dhabi grand prix’s after party.

lando stays p6 in the championship, but it’s only by one stupid point. celebration is certainly called for, and you bask in the freedom of the season ending.

you don’t even want to think about the way he hugged you when he got out of the damn car.

so you don’t. you drink and you dance and you beg for someone else to try and take you home so that you can avoid him. you’re scared, fucking terrified, and avoiding him seems like the best option.

that’s until he finds you in the sea of people, because of course he does, and you get closer, closer, closer, until there’s no room for god and his hands are on your hips.

it feels too fucking good to stop, you can’t even compute pulling away, so you let yourself go. what’s the point in trying to hide the way you feel when he’s holding you against his crotch? ah, yes. a cornerstone of friendship.

but it’s too hot and it’s too bright and it’s too loud and the anxiety hits. it hits and you can’t stop the way you freeze up against him. you’re sick to death of pretending. you’re sick to death of nights like this one repeating themselves far too often, only to wake up in the morning and act like it means nothing. like the way he holds you and looks at you and touches you means nothing.

no matter how drunk he is, no matter how far gone he is, he knows you too damn well. he’s spinning you around in his arms and pulling you through the hoards of people.

cool air lands on your flushed skin and you realise you’re in the smoking area. lando looks wrecked, but he’s watching you as intently as he can manage.

“you okay, honey? want me to take you home?” he’s rubbing your arm as he speaks and tears well in your eyes. you’re not entirely sure why.

“stay, i don’t wanna ruin your night.” you croak. you need to get out of there immediately.

“no, no, no, you’re my priority, i’ll call us a driver and w-“

“stop it, lando. i can go back to the hotel alone.” he looks bewildered, and you don’t blame him. you sound harsh, way too harsh considering what he’d offered.

“i should take you.” he replies quietly and you feel bad.

great, now you are crying.

“just- i don’t want this to change, i don’t want us to change and if you keep on like this-“

alas, everything changes, then. every unsaid word is fair game and neither of you are holding back. the shots you’ve thrown back fuel an explosion.

“if i keep on like this? what, you think i don’t see the way you look at me?” lando’s words hit like venom and you’re white hot with embarrassment.

fiery despair hits you and you’re bound to regret every word when you’re sober and sane.

“at least i don’t fuck with your head.”*

“you think that doesn’t fuck with my head? the one woman i- fuck, you know what? it doesn’t matter.” he bites his tongue but you most certainly don’t.

“what? what, lando? as if the way i look at you compares to carrying my shoes and putting me to bed and calling me pretty and every other thing that you do to drive me up the fucking wall.” you spit.

your tears burn your cheeks, you’ve always been an angry crier, and they fall faster when he practically deflates and turns away, disappearing into the club.

you make your getaway, your father’s assistant sends you a car.

you cry yourself to sleep in your hotel room, watching the orange sun rise.

-

the flight home is quiet.

your plans to fly home with lando are abandoned, and you board the earliest flight available.

you never fight with him, so you don’t know how to proceed. everything had changed in a matter of words and you ignore the lump in your throat when you land in miserable, rainy london alone.

you’re surprised to see your dad’s blacked out range rover waiting for you when you get through customs. he’d been on the first flight out of the emirates as soon as the race had finished, and you assumed he’d be asleep for at least a day or two. the man never rests during the season, from the minute the lights go out in bahrain, until the flag falls in abu dhabi. then, he biblically crashes, the excitement and adrenaline hibernating until next year. average behaviour for the world’s biggest motorsport fan.

he’s out the car and opening the boot for you before you even reach him, and he’s pulling you into his fatherly embrace when you finally do. you let out a shaky breath, having been in desperate need of a hug.

“hey, kid.” he mutters into your ear. maybe it’s good to be home.

“what are you doing here?” you ask from the passenger seat, once all of your luggage is packed into the car.

your dad sighs, turning to look at you. you groan, thudding your head against the headrest. you know that look, the one that precedes a motivational speech, a bit of tough love, and usually very sound advice that you never ask for.

“lando called me.” he deadpans. they’d grown somewhat annoyingly close over the years.

“fantastic.” you reply, sarcasm as clear as day.

“he was beside himself. told me what happened.” your dad says softly and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“it’s so, so fine. i don’t wanna talk about this.” your voice trembles and you don’t have the energy to cry anymore.

“there’s nothing wrong with telling him how you feel, sweetheart. don’t throw something away because you’re scared.” and, here we go… you think.

“i can’t lose him.” you whisper, furiously wiping away the stray tears that fall, staring out the window.

“you won’t lose him if you tell him. trust me, kid. we all see how that boy adores you. no father ever thinks a guy is good enough for their girl, but lando comes pretty damn close.”

“i don’t even know where to begin.” you rub your temples, battling the tension headache you’d developed sometime the night before.

“well, start thinking. you’ve got a week.” you can see your dad smirking from the corner of your eye.

“what?” you blurt, blindsided. you’d need more than a fucking week.

“end of year gala, kid. pick a dress.”

fuck.

-

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youruser: commotion for the dress?

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user5: on my knees begging

user1: no lando like? divorce? 😟

mclaren: always good to see you! 🧡

yourfriendnancy: kicking my feet looking at this lord have mercy

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-

you’re glowing, draped in champagne pink silk.

from the other side of the room, you watch lando, and he watches you. it’s like a game, who’s gonna break first? who’s going to extend the olive branch?

he looks so pretty in his suit that you would cry if there were any tears left in you, if you hadn’t purged them all out of frustration and longing in the week of radio silence.

you’re nursing a glass of champagne, waiting for dinner to start. the room is full of rich people with big ideas, icons of the racing world, both past and present. you make small talk with oscar and his girlfriend, exchange pleasantries with your father’s many friends, and beg that lando makes the first move.

the clinking against a glass indicates that dinner is ready to be served, and you scan the tables for your place card. apparently, the event coordinator has a vendetta against you, because scrawled in deep orange cursive on the place card next to yours is mr lando norris. you scan the room for the nearest exit. your grand scheme to flee in a floor length gown and too high heels is interrupted by the sound of your chair scraping out next to you.

you feel a ghost of breath against your bare shoulder. curls tickle your skin and then, a head rests in the crook of your neck.

he says your name, and the world stops for a second.

“i’m sorry.” lando whispers in your ear, and your heart falls to your stomach.

you whip around, holding him tight as you wrap your arms around him. the tension plaguing your body since abu dhabi dissipates in seconds.

“don’t apologise. just… i missed you.” you sigh.

“you look… fuck. you’re gorgeous.” he breathes in your ear. one hand skims low over your waist. something inside of you explodes.

you don’t even try to fight the blush that tinges your cheeks.

someone important is trying to make a toast, so you take your seats. you’re not listening to a word being said, though. you just smile at lando, and lando smiles back.

you’re gonna tell him, you decide. he has to know, although you suspect he already does; you can’t imagine another day without the privilege of him looking at you the way he is right now.

dinner is a breeze. you eat, drink, laugh at the stories exchanged. you remember why you love this world you were raised in, and find yourself grinning mindlessly at your father as he rattles off yet another wild tale from your travels. you’re lucky, you know you are, and it’s reaffirmed when the man sat beside you - who you think you love a bit more than platonically - drapes his arm over the back of your chair.

plates are cleared away and a band starts their set on the makeshift stage. the mtc is lit so beautifully, fairy lights twinkle above you casting dainty light over the makeshift dance floor.

“dance with me.” lando requests. he hates to dance at these functions, so you know the request comes from the heart.

“lead the way.”

he takes your hand and you make your way onto the floor, which is slowly filling up with other couples. his hold is firm, yet gentle, and you lean into him as he keeps you close. eventually, your ear is to his chest, and you can hear his heart hammering away. you melt further into him as the song plays out, and you wish it would play forever.

“we gonna talk about it?” lando murmurs, just loud enough over the music.

“we are.” you mumble against the lapel of his jacket.

“come home with me.”

you nod, inhaling the scent of his cologne; god, how you missed every little part of him.

you keep dancing and dancing, until the champagne runs out and the band starts to pack up.

-

the door slams softly behind you.

lando takes your coat, and you drop your bag on his coffee table. when you turn around to find him, he’s stood in the doorway watching you. there is so much to say, but you can barely form a thought.

“i can’t take this any longer.” lando tells you.

your breath hitches in your throat.

“neither can i.” you whisper.

“we can be more.”

“what do you want us to be?” your chest is tight and you’re looking at him so fucking intensely, desire as clear as day in your eyes.

“you know what i want. and i know you want it too.” he walks towards you slowly as he speaks, footsteps punctuating each word.

“i need to hear you say it.” you breathe. you’re shaking; you’re not sure if it’s the anticipation or the way you’re holding yourself back.

“all i want, all i ever wanted, is you.” he’s right in front of you and his hands are on your waist. you’re tingling everywhere.

lando’s nose bumps yours. you’re scanning his face, every line, freckle, slope that maps him out. he can’t help but look at your lips, darkened eyes flitting over your face. all you can hear is shaky breaths, and perhaps your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“can i…?” lando mutters.

you close the gap some more, lips brushing his.

“of course you can.”

he kisses you like he’ll die if he doesn’t. his hands cup your cheeks and yours find his neck, gently pressing your fingertips into his skin. lando’s frantic, passionate, oh so careful as he deepens the kiss, pulling you somehow closer. you hum in surprise, and you feel him smirking. he’s moving hungrily, and you’re starving, impatient when your hands find his curls. the groan he emits at the sensation makes you ache for him all over.

you’re both panting when you pull away, the urgency to breathe the only thing stopping you. the relief you feel is astronomical, your lips lock perfectly and he feels wondrous under your explorative hands. he smiles wide and you grip his collar, pressing your forehead against his.

“i was gonna tell you, and then you turned up looking like this… fuck.” lando groans, and you can’t help but lean up into him once more.

the kiss is slower this time, languid, and he licks slowly into your mouth. his pupils are blown when you break apart and his eyes flutter open. your thighs clench under your dress.

“so, you like the dress?” you giggle incredulously, buzzing from the interaction. lando looks at you like you’re stupid.

“you look…” he runs his eyes over you, pausing mid sentence tentatively.

“say it.”

“fucking incredible.”

“thanks. bought it with you in mind.” you tease, smirking coyly.

his jaw goes slack; you can see him mentally undressing you, and then he’s kissing you all over again.

his bedroom isn’t far, but he insists on carrying you there, sweeping you up into his arms. he peppers kisses over your neck, kicking the door open with his dress shoe.

lando places you on your feet at the foot of his bed, smoothing his hands over the curve of your waist, the silk of your dress. he tucks your hair behind your ears, drawing you close once more as he does, cupping your face in large, calloused hands.

“what do you want tonight?” lando asks, searching your face for any sign of hesitancy.

“need you. all of you.” you keen into his touch, and his breath hitches in his throat.

“we’ll go slow.” he murmurs.

“no.” you shake your head, and his hands drop from your face. “don’t want to hold back anymore.” he finds your ass, grazing his fingers upwards until he finds the fastening of your dress. you maintain eye contact while he drags the zip down, shivering as your hear the faint buzz of the metal.

lando stops, just for a second in an attempt to compose himself.

“take it off. bought it so that you could take it off.” your brutal honesty breathes some urgency into him.

he keeps his eyes on yours as the silk falls off your body, pooling at your feet. the cool air brushes your skin - covered only by lacy panties and stilettos - but his touch warms you when he grabs your waist. lando walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed. he places you on the bed, on top of you like a shot, kissing you into the mattress.

he clambers off of you, sliding down your body until he reaches your heels. kisses trail up your legs while he takes them off, the thud of them hitting the floor making you jump. anticipation pools in your barely there underwear; he can see you, all of you, and he cannot bring himself to look away.

“careful with those, they were expensive.” you joke, but your voice sounds wrecked already. you can’t even imagine how you’ll sound when he’s done.

“i have different priorities right now.” he flashes a grin and you lose him between your legs.

your underwear stay on when he dives into your pussy, teeth scraping over your covered folds. he can definitely taste you already, stuttering out a moan as he casts his tongue over you. you sink deep into the sheets, bucking your hips into his face, but his hold on you is firm and you have to relent. he lets go of you for a moment, just to pull your panties down, and as soon as they’re gone, he’s delving deep into you.

the sounds he’s making are obscene, his entire face buried away. lando flicks his tongue over your clit, beginning an extended assault on your nerve endings, sucking hard and fast until you whimper his name. a knot forms in your core.

lando takes his mouth off of you, lips slick and glistening. he swipes his tongue over them, sitting back on his haunches. he begins rolling his sleeves up, and you manage to push yourself up so that you’re resting on your elbows. you reach out to toy with the buttons of his dress shirt, leaving his torso exposed to you. you rake your nails over his abs, transfixed on the way he tenses, shudders under your touch. once his sleeves are out of his way, he pushes you back. your hair fans out around you as he resumes his position between your legs.

one finger ghosts over your clit, poking and tracing the bud. you’re reeling, writhing at the feeling of everything and almost nothing at all. he drags the digit down until he finds your entrance, abandoning the teasing and slipping it inside of you. he twists his wrist, adding a second finger, grinding them deep. he’s slow with it, watches the way your face twists in euphoria, finding a deep sense of pride in the way he makes you shake.

“you have no fucking idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” his words have you clamping down on him, fucking yourself onto his hand.

“the feeling’s mutual.” you gasp.

lando cocks an eyebrow. he scales your body until he’s hovering over you again, fingers still working in and out of you. the angle change is delightful, your back arching and your nipples harden as they skim his bare chest.

“is it, honey? was it mutual all those nights i pictured you next to me, right on this bed? all those nights i watched you dance in your short skirts? all those nights i carried you to bed and wished i could stay?” he whispers right into your ear. his fingers speed up.

“fuck, lando. yes.” you cry, mouth hanging slack.

“tell me. tell me how mutual it was and i’ll let you come, pretty girl.” he teases; goosebumps litter your skin. there he goes again with pretty girl. this fucking man.

“always wanted more… was too scared to ask for it.”

“oh?” he coos, mockingly.

“couldn’t lose you if you didn’t want me.” you pant. a weight lifts off your chest as you let the words slip, his efforts sending you hurtling towards an orgasm.

“not going anywhere.” he kisses the base of your throat. “ever.” he punctuates, thumb sliding over your clit. “let go, love.”

the wave of pleasure crashes on your shores and it doesn’t stop, rippling through your belly and down into your toes. lando’s name falls from your lips like a sin, over and over until you can’t even hear yourself anymore.

lando’s smiling when you come down, small and knowing. he pecks your lips, once, twice, humming into the kiss when your hands find a home under his shirt. it’s unbuttoned already, so it slides over his bronzed shoulders easily. you hear it thud softly when it hits the floor.

“what?” you catch him looking at you, giddy.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this.” he grins. his words overwhelm you.

“i know.” you beam up at him bashfully.

he undresses himself and then the wait is over, and god knows it was a long one. he finds home between your thighs, runs his cock through your folds.

“you sure?”

“don’t make me wait any longer.” you insist.

it takes you a moment to adjust; he strokes your walls nice and deep and you feel everything he has to offer you. it’s surreal, really, stretching around him like this. you’d only ever daydreamed of the possibility, and now that it’s happening you can’t quite believe it. he moans low, forehead resting on yours. you watch his eyes roll back when he bottoms out.

your lip is quivering; it’s too intense, he’s too good. he takes it slow, just like he’d insisted, but he grinds deep, long strokes making you dizzy. you leave imprints of crescents in his shoulder blades, marking his pristine skin.

you can’t take much more of this, his hips hitting yours at such a delectable pace. he drags in and out, building a blissful rhythm and you’re whimpering into his neck. your teeth dig into the muscled plane of skin, minimal pressure applied, and his thrusts turn erratic, curses tumbling freely from his pink parted lips. it makes you squirm, spilling all over him, white hot and wet.

lando collapses into your damp body, the room is humid. you drag your nails through his hair, pushing the sweat slicked curls off of his forehead, and then your hand thuds lazily against the pillow.

“i’m done pretending.” he mumbles. “i’m yours.”

the last few years of your life flash before your eyes. you think back to his buzz cut and every time you’d failed to rebound. you think of bleached hair and lies about love and how he always saw the best in you. you think of nothing but him, you, together. he’s carved into you now, you think he always has been.

you fall asleep happy. you’ll wake up by his side and then you’ll do it the morning after, and the one after that too.

-

youruser just posted on instagram

liked by landonorris, mclaren, francisca.gomez, lilymhe and 735,641 others

youruser: our secret moments

landonorris: “only bought this dress so you could take it off” 🕺🏻✨💘

youruser: @ landonorris omg shut up (omw over)

user1: FINALLY

user4: bisexual panic is a real thing.

otheruser: i used to pray for times like these

maxfewtrell: took you long enough.

yourfriendmia: mum n dad

user63: mclaren ships it and so do i

and 1,442 other comments

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239

maintenance: i’ve removed any tags that weren’t working! lemme know if you wanna be added or removed!

[shotmrmiller]

currently doing one of my most hated chores which is laundry and it got me thinking.

It's bloody laundry day again. You've got no extra clothes to really wear apart from a loose, grey, too thin pajama shirt and the shorts it came with.

Tragic, but not the end of the world. No one goes to wash their clothes looking like they're right off the runway. And it's also far too early for the laundromat to be packed.

You'll survive.

Slamming your trunk closed, you straighten and wipe the sweat that's beaded on your forehead. Damn muggy air. Even at this hour, the weather chooses violence.

Pulling the door open, you step inside and hiss out a breath through your teeth. In here it's not any better. And there's only one big fan on, out of the many that are in here.

God you hate laundry day.

At least it looks empty.

Tucking your hair away in a makeshift, sloppy bun, you drag your dirty clothes basket to a washer and throw them in.

Next is your detergent and when you pick up the fabric softener, it's almost empty.

God fucking damnit.

And the person that sells stuff isn't in behind the desk.

Slamming the lid closed, you kick your hamper into against the washer and walk toward the cursed fan that probably only circulates the hot ass air in here. But with the way your pathetic shirt is turning damp and sheer from the sweat, and short strands of hair that are starting to glue themselves to the back of your neck, worse is nothing.

And then you're standing in the corner of the laundromat, getting hot air weakly blown into your flushed face. "Goddamn it's hot. Useless fucking fan is just here for decor, i think."

"Ah think so too."

You choke back a scream and spin on the balls of your feet to the deep, accented voice behind you.

A muscular pretty boy with hair the color of damp soil and blue eyes that sparkle brightly, even under the dim light of the place sits with his back to a washer that's currently going.

Devastatingly handsome. And you've been throwing a hissy fit for the past half hour, only to appear in front of him resembling a drowned rat.

Flatlining right now would be great.

"Damned hot in here, alrigh'. Isnae tha' so, Simon?"

Who? Oh no.

How you missed that behemoth is beyond you, but he rises from the ground like a slumbering giant. Ash brown choppy hair and dark, sharp eyes with the rest of his face covered by a black cloth mask. 6'4 at least, and built like bloody fridge.

Someone kill you now.

"Johnny."

His piercing eyes cut to you before flicking back to the man on the floor.

"Get the detergent."

"Aye." Scottish, it sounds like.

You briskly walk away from them two, face burning with embarrassment, back to the washer you're using.

Today of all days, you come across these two. You could cry, honestly.

They're there for as long as you are, and you've long since gotten past your self-consciousness. If you have to melt in this stifling heat for one more second, you just might scream.

You grab your clothes from the dryer with haste, haphazardly throwing them in your basket and with a quick, 'Have a good day!', you're out the door.

As you're about to get in your car, the scot comes bustling out the front door of the laundromat.

"Lass! Ah think these're yers."

What he holds in his hands has tears springing into your eyes.

Undergarments. Why the hell is he-

You can see the tall brit leaning on a machine, with his arms crossed and he's looking right at you.

The walk of shame to the pretty one is almost unbearable. Your trembling hand reaches for your garment. "Thank you."

He chuckles under his breath. "Anytime. See ye around."

How mortifying.

[sturniolo04]

I have a scenario for you to write ❤️

Matt’s gf accidentally leaves a hickey on his neck just before he has to go film Friday’s video so she helps him cover it with make up and Nick and Chris walk in into Matt’s room like “why are you putting make up on?”

A/N: Hope you like it lovey🤍

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

It was just a typical night in the Sturniolo household, nothing out of the ordinary, except that you knew the boys had to film tonight because God forbid they forget to post on Wednesday.

You and Matt were in your typical spots, you straddling his lap with his hands having a tight grip on your hips, helping you shift ever so slightly on top of him, while you two continued to make out.

Makeouts with Matt were always very sensual from the way he would caress your cheeks as you guys made out to deepen the kiss to the way he would deeply inhale and exhale to keep the steady pace at which your lips were moving in sync. Makeouts would also lead to neck kisses to the endless amount of rounds you and him could go.

So if as on cue, you begin to make your mark on your boyfriend, shifting your lips to his cheek then trailing down his neck as he lets out a breathy moan tipping his head back to lean against his headboard in the process.

See your boyfriend's skin was notorious for being super sensitive. sensitive in way that it is easy to leave marks on him without even trying.

"baby dont leave leave marks i have to film still tonight"

your boyfriend states breathily chuckling.

"too late"

you mumble continuing to kiss his neck as his phone began to ring next to you two as he groans, patting you hips lovingly to tell you to stop for a minute

"hello"

matt speaks into the phone.

"are you almost ready to film this video"

you hear nick ask through the phone as matt rolls his eyes, letting out a deep breath.

"yeah yeah just give me one mintue"

he responds hanging up the phone proceeding to look up at you.

"come on time for me to film babygirl"

you groans as you roll off of him as he gets off of the bed and walks over to his full-length mirror to fix his hair and that's when he saw it.

"babyyyy"

"what"

you question walking over to him looking at what he is looking at on him.

"oh shoot well-"

"the fans are not going to miss that"

he chuckles running his hand through his hair looking down at you.

"here lets just use some concealer and they wont even know"

you state grabbing your concealer out of the bathroom, proceeding to apply it to his neck.

you were almost fully done applying it when the door to his room slammed open, as you look over to see who it is. You two being confronted by Nick and Chris.

"what the fuck are you two doing"

"why are you putting on makeup "

"no reason"

Matt replies as you giggle beside him.

"dude come on we have to film"

chris states ashe and nick walk about of his room with you two following.

Tag list

@mintsturniolo @adirtylittleheart @wh0resstuff @spicymuffins03

[ashisgreedy]

Theodore Nott x F!Reader

“Camera Shy”

Tags: SMUT 18+ MDNI | Established Relationship | Just p0rn| Dominate/Sadistic!Theo | Biting | Fingering | Recording the act | Rough Sex (reader is flexible ig lol) | Multi Os | Creampie | All Chars over 18+ |

WC: 2,372

You hear three knocks on your bedroom door. His 5-minute warning he’d sent via text had been accurate down to the minute. Your heart raced to see him after the hour-long sexting spree you two just had while he was at an obligatory dinner.

You open the door and see his expressionless eyes pierce into yours. He steps inside with his usual swagger and wraps his arm around your waist. He slams the door behind him as his lips crash into yours. The scent of cigarettes and ash envelopes you. You wrap your arms around him but the sudden force at which you are shoved into the wall stops all action.

Theo pulls away from the kiss, ghosting his mouth down your jawline. “I missed you.” His words are a whisper on your skin. “I can’t believe you had the guts to send a video like that, full audio, knowing damn well I was in public.” He licked your skin, nibbling down the column of your neck. “I need you, now.”

You gathered that much, what with how eager he was the second he walked into the door. “Then have me.” You answer him.

Teeth sink into your neck while hands trail down over your torso. His hand cups your ass, letting out a low groan.

Eager hands palm your torso, rough and possessive. Your blouse is unbuttoned halfway before it's yanked over your head. He captures your bottom lip between his teeth before shoving his tongue into the heated kiss.

“You have such a beautiful body," He murmurs, running his fingers along the edge of your bra. One strap falls down your shoulder, zealous hands cupping your breasts. He squeezes and rubs, teasingly avoiding your hardening nipples. "And it's all mine to enjoy, isn't it?”

With one hand, he skillfully unclasps your bra. The garment goes slack and the straps slide down your arms. It falls to the floor and Theo lets out a gruff sound at the sight.

Your breath hitches as his fingers tease your nipples. “Yes���” you whisper. “I’m all yours.”

He pinches the soft peaks, watching your face twist in pleasure. His hips pressing firmly against yours keep you flush against the wall. You press back, adding friction to his hardening cock.

“You’re mine.” He says in a way like he's daring you to argue. His face is so close that his nose presses into yours. “You’re all mine.” He tries to maintain eye contact with you no matter what direction you look. One hand slowly moves down between your thighs.

“Yours…” You say, letting out a whimper when his hand rubs your core over your pajama shorts.

“Spread them, spread them, come on.” He demands.

You open your legs wider for him, losing some height as you do. “Like this?”

He slips his warm hand down the front of your shorts and panties, gliding his fingers down your slick slit. “Perfect.” He presses his forehead into yours. “You’re soaked.” His voice was laced with cockiness. “Were you this wet when you were playing with yourself on video?” He teased. You shook your head ‘no’ and he circled his fingers over your clit. “I want to see what is mine.”

It was easy for him to push your shorts and panties down. The cloth pooled at your ankles. “What do you want me to do?” You ask, catching his intense stare.

“Get on the bed.” He finally backs away to give you a chance to move. His eyes are still locked onto you, like a predator ready to pounce.

A couple steps and you're sitting on the plush mattress. The cool air from the fan makes you feel a bit shy being the only naked person in the room.

Theo gives you a seductive smile, nodding in approval. “Lay back, present yourself to me.” He demands.

You avert your eyes and do as he asks, opening your legs for him to see. “Like thi-”

“Wider.” He cuts you off. “Don’t be shy now that I’m in the room with you.”

A flush of heat washes over you as you actively open your legs wider for him. Your heart raced as he walked closer, eyes glued on your intimate display.

“Better.” He said. “Now touch yourself like you were in that video.”

You swallow thickly and reach down between your legs. You were wetter than you realized. “I want you to touch me…” You say, gliding your finger along your slit.

Theo takes out his phone and points it at your cunt. “Oh, I will.”

“What are you doing?” You ask, moving to close your legs when you hear the telltale sound of the phone recording start.

He grabbed one of your knees and pushed until you were open for him again. “I want to make my own video.” He rubbed your thigh slowly. “Now do as I said, darling.”

He moved the camera to show your face and your blush deepened. He recorded himself rubbing and flicking your nipple until you flinched. You were panting, breathing faster with every moment that passed.

“More…” You said. When his hand moved to your opposing breast, he pinched the sensitive nub. You moaned at the sensation sending pleasureable shockwaves through your body.

“Fuck, amore mio.” He whispered. The camera lens followed his finger on its journey down your stomach between your spread legs. You’d played with yourself like he asked, but nothing compared to the sensation of his touch.

His phone grew closer as he parted your folds, capturing how slick you were on film. His digit traced your asshole and you inhaled sharply as butterflies rushed into your stomach.

“Theo.” You groaned, tired of being teased.

He dragged his gaze back up to your face. “What?” He said, using his hand to cup your cunt. “Tell me what you want. Beg for me so this video is worth rewatching.”

You licked your lips “Don’t show this video to anyone…”

A curious smile grew on his face. “You think I’d do that?” He leaned in. “I can’t even stand another guy glancing your way, there's no way in hell I’d show anyone this video.”

You nodded in understanding and slowly began to grind your hips against his palm. “Please…” You bit your lip and looked away from the camera when he brought it to your face. “Please… um.. finger me.”

Theo looked down with a concentrated look and managed two fingers into your entrance. He immediately curled them against your gspot and roughly finger fucked you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, your legs closing involuntarily.

“Open your fucking legs.” He demanded, camera on your pussy while he fingered the hell out of you.

The lack of build-up made you see stars. You tried your best to spread your legs again but the intensity of the sensation made you writhe instead. “I can’t! I.. oh gods!” Your moans filled the room and Theo’s ministrations only got more intense.

You could hear your ever-growing wetness the faster he went. The veins in his forearm stood out as he used more of his strength to bring you to a sudden orgasm.

“AH!” You screamed, the sensation rocketing through your body. You arched while waves of electric pleasure pulsed through every nerve you had. You were acutely aware of how loud you were being but you literally saw stars and couldn’t be bothered to care.

He removed his fingers just as roughly and set the phone down on the bed. “That was beautiful, Amore.” His belt clunk to the ground.

You gasped, sucking in air while your heart pounded in your chest. “What the fuck.” You managed to say. He only stood naked before you for a second before he slid onto the bed, scooping your legs under his arms.

The position had your legs resting on his shoulders while his cock prodded your entrance. He grabbed his phone again, not worried about the angle this time “Beg for it, beg for my cock.” He demanded.

“I'm still catching my breath. I-”

“Beg, you need my cock, you need to feel full. Beg for it.” He growled, his face rubbing against yours.

“Theo!” Your legs shook at the new angle. “Fuck… fuck! Give me your cock. Please! Please I want it.”

“Hm.” He growled. His teeth nipped at your cheek and ear.

“Please!” You began again, feeling his cock slide along your slit. “Please. Theo, fuck me. Please fuck me. I need it.”

He didn’t oblige and instead sucked at the skin on your neck creating a hickey mark. His fit body moved in a subtle thrusting rhythm.

You whimpered. “Fuc- PLEASE! I want to feel full, I want… I want to feel your cum dripping out of me.”

He groaned against your neck and let up on the patch he was sucking with a pop. “You want my cum, baby?” He asked, still rutting against your pussy.

“Yes! And I want you to record it dripping out of me. Please, please, Theo.”

He was happy with this and used one hand to guide his cock to your entrance. “Shit…” He slowly pressed inside you. “How are you still so fucking tight?” He moaned when he sank all the way inside. “You were made to be fucked by me.” He kissed you roughly before continuing. “You were made for me. I know you crave a rough fuck. Tell me. Say it.”

“Yes, yes.” You nod, feeling a swirl of overstimulation from the hard orgasm you’d just had. “I like it rough.” You agreed. “Please fuck me, please.”

Theo sat up, letting your legs drop, and set his phone to the side. He moved back down closer to your face and started thrusting harshly. You wrapped your legs around him, aiding him to fuck you even harder. His biceps flexed as he held himself up above you.

With each thrust, you felt yourself slide more and more up the bed. It was too much, yet it felt like pure bliss. Your eyes shut while his cock hit just the right spot inside to make you scream. His moans, mixed with yours, began to grow in volume.

“Will you come for me again, amore? Hm? Do you have it in you?” He asked. His knees dug harder into the bed as he held your shoulders so you’d stop sliding away.

He was out of breath, just as you were. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his brown waves began to stick to his skin. His thrusts were getting sloppy while his skin heated up.

You needed a bit of encouragement to come like he asked, so you reached down and rubbed your clit as best as you could with the heavy thrusting your boyfriend was doing.

Your toes tingled and your vision blurred. Theo breathed like he was running a marathon while your head pressed back into the mattress. You pinched your eyes shut as another body-shaking orgasm rushed through you.

“Yes, baby, yes. Come on my cock. Fucking hell.” He encouraged.

As your body pulsed with pleasure, he lifted himself up at a new angle. He gave a few more pumps before he was moaning your name, gasping at the intensity of the climax. He grabbed your breasts while his cock pulsed inside you.

A few seconds passed before he collapsed back down on you. His arms wrapped around you protectively while he caught his breath. You hugged him tight, lips kissing every part of him that was close enough to you.

Several minutes passed and his softening cock was still inside you. He finally pulled back enough to kiss your lips. His kisses were a series of short pecks while he smiled down at you. “So pretty.” He kissed you once more before looking around the bed. He spotted his phone and he checked the screen, it was still recording from what you saw.

He took a deep breath and pushed his hair off his face. “Okay, amore mio. One last thing. Stay still.” He asked, his voice much more calm than it had been all night.

He kissed the back of your hand before backing away. The camera moved down to where you were connected. Carefully, Theo pulled out. You hissed at the feeling but breathed a sigh of relief when he was finally out.

He helped ease your legs back open with one hand. “Relax, babe.” He said, pressing his hand on your lower stomach.

You did as he said, and relaxed. You could feel the warmth begin to pool between your legs within a second. Theo bit his lip and moved the camera closer. His cum oozed out of your spent hole and dripped down onto the bed. He used his finger and gently coaxed more out. “So good.” He praised. “That's what you wanted, right, darling?”

You nodded slowly. “Yes…” Your legs trembled.

Finally, you heard the tone of the video being stopped. You relaxed and watched as Theo dropped the phone onto the nightstand. He then scooped you back up into his arms, a small satisfied smile on his face. His kisses were endless as his hand rubbed your back.

It wasn’t long before your shower suggestion was taken into consideration and you two shared a nice warm soak in the bath together afterward. It helped ease any sore muscles that may arise by morning and gave you two more time to cuddle one another close.

“What are you going to do with that video.” You finally asked as the bubbles in the bath began to dissipate.

Theo opened his eyes and looked at you with amusement. “I’m going to watch it every day for the rest of my life.”

“Shut up,” You laughed, splashing him with the sudsy water.

He laughed, wiping the water off his face. “It’s true! And maybe, we can make more in the future.” He winked playfully and kissed your cheek.

.

.

.

Thanks for reading! I don’t know much about Theo yet but I was… in need.

[meownotgood]

WEEK THREE — smoking + aki hayakawa, 18+, fem bodied reader, riding, shotgunning, semi-public sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, cockwarming, a touch of angst, aki indulges in his two favorite vices: you and his cigarettes

kinktober masterlist

C'mon, Aki. Make me yours. 

Aki hasn't been able to focus on anything but those words since he heard them. 

First came your hands on his shoulders. You'd squeezed behind his chair as he was lighting his cigarette, his palm cupped around the flame to shield it from the wind. Aki closed his eyes, stiff muscles relaxing from the way you rolled them under your palms; you leaned in, you kissed him softly on the cheek, tilted his head up by his chin to kiss him on the lips. 

Your voice is a whisper right next to his ear. They went to bed already. It's just us. You're so tense, you've been stressed all day, haven't you? Do you want to relax now? 

Aki swallows. He reaches over and sets his lighter aside. Your fingertips dance across his neck, tapping his skin, feeling out his hurried pulse. He doesn't take long to figure out his answer. 

Come here. 

You're quick then to make your way in front of him. Climbing into his lap, he watches you, pliant. Your hands find his shoulders and grip tight for leverage, feeling the muscle underneath. The small balcony chair now occupying the two of you creaks slightly from the extra weight. Cool night air flicks sharply against your skin and the back of his neck, it rustles Aki's hair and whispers promises in his ears. The same promises you're affectionately cooing to him.

I'll make you feel good. That's what you want, yeah?

And even though it's late, you shouldn't do this here — Your lips press in warm kisses onto his neck, and Aki is tilting his head to make everything easier. He exhales, his skin tingling. A plane passes overhead like a shooting star's figment. You're sighing already even though he hasn't done anything, he feels your hands blindly fumble with the hem of his sweatpants and he lifts his hips, he doesn't try to stop you. 

Aki's heart thuds heavy in his chest, in his ears, a rhythmic drum. Smoke wisps steadily from his unattended cigarette. He holds the small of your back with his free hand, his touch reassuring. You prop yourself up on your knees after you've discarded your shorts, and Aki wraps his thumb around your underwear. His gaze doesn't leave yours as he tugs them down to your thighs. 

He pulls you closer, his arm holding your back again. Your entire body tremors when the head of his cock nudges your entrance. Palm moving to your hip, he doesn't let you hesitate; Aki pulls you down, sinking you onto him. His hand clenches, gripping you tight, he mumbles a swear under his breath. His chest begins to heave once he's all the way inside, he savors the familiarity of your warm cunt while his thumb rubs your skin in soothing circles. He pants between soft exhales of pleasure: So good, oh- you feel so good. 

Neither of you can breathe for a couple of moments. Aki's brows twitch the way they do when there's something more he wants to say but can't manage it. His eyes dart from you pressed up on his lap to your face, his expression softening instantly. 

The cigarette he's holding has been burning for a while now; he hangs his arm down, he fiddles with it and ash scatters onto the concrete below. The starry night sky glimmers in his gaze, shadows and lights from the city blanket his features. He's all of your vision, and when he's inside you, he becomes all that matters. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders in something like a hug, and Aki's got the ghost of a smile on his face even though you can't tell, he's closing his eyes once your voice fans out warmly over the shell of his ear. 

I've missed you, you know. 

Aki blinks. He knows, he definitely knows. He rubs your back as his way of answering. 

Slowly, he brings his cigarette to his parted lips, the end flares to life as he takes a long drag in. The rich taste of smoke in his lungs is even better than he remembers. You lean backward, his gaze catches yours and he holds his exhale. Sitting up, he closes the distance, he cups your cheek, his head tilting. Warm lips brush yours and he meets you open-mouthed, breathing a steady puff of smoke that lingers in between you once you both pull away. 

Your senses spark alight, the taste of his cigarettes is a reminder of all the nights you've shared puffs of smoke with him in the exact same way. It reminds you of the excuses you'd make to kiss him, when everything was indirect and left with more questions. The moments where you'd light one up when you're all alone in hopes of pretending he was still there beside you. 

Thought you were dead for a while, you're mumbling, like it's simple, like it isn't a big deal, You worry me sick sometimes. 

A pained look grows in intensity on Aki's face, yet you still feel you have no idea what he's thinking. Before you have the chance to speak again, he's desperately pressing his lips to yours. A kiss with no smoke in between is just a kiss. He cradles the back of your neck ever-so gently and you indulge, allowing your fingers tangle in his hair. 

One kiss turns into two, and then three, and then you've lost count. Your hips shift impatiently, grinding, and he pulls away to toss his head back with a groan; he pulses hard inside you and you're reeling, dizzy. You can't keep from moving any longer, but he's already coaxing you, grabbing your side and following along with your movement. 

Aki shudders. It's like his skin's been set on fire, enveloping warmth spreading onto his back and over his spine. He's already sweating — he can feel the moisture on the side of his face — in spite of the cold temperature outside. His slight grunts of pleasure mix with every echo of skin hitting skin, the sounds quiet and secretive, enough for only the two of you to hear. 

That's where you say it.

Aki kisses your jaw, flicking his cigarette over the ashtray. Your soft bounces on his lap have you out of breath already. He can hear the wobble in your voice, overtaken by arousal once you've leaned in close to him. 

I want you to make me forget about all of it, Aki. Make me yours. 

He freezes, he's shaking, not from the cold but from something different. Aki brings his cigarette back to his mouth with hesitant fingers. He takes a deep breath in, and his hand slips underneath your shirt to find your bare side. You're surrounded by smoke as he breathes out, it clings to the edges of your form in his vision, makes them fuzzy. His gaze connects with yours and he passes the cigarette to you wordlessly. The pace of your hips slows to a halt, you close your eyes to take a drag, exhaling quickly, reaching over to stamp out the spent cigarette.

Perhaps he's thinking about this too much. Maybe it was nothing, just a bit of talking to get him going, no meaning behind it. His stupid heart can't help but tell him differently. 

You've always been more to him than he's had the courage to let on. He tells others at the division you're his friend, tells you this is nothing serious, and you might think the same. Might think he's just using you as another vice to get by. Something to forget and stamp out once he's done. God, he's an idiot. 

None of that could be any further from the truth, he never meant to push you away, never wanted to be apart from you for as long as he has. You're precious to him, you're infinitely precious and for once, he wants you to know that. 

"Yeah," Aki starts in response. Voice all husky, his eyes half-lidded, he's made up his mind, "I'll make you mine." 

He's cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a kiss immediately. Teeth nip gently at your lower lip, and he groans in the space between you, he kisses you hard and lets his tongue crash into yours. His taste is like smoke, ashy and familiar. He grips you hard, he begins to guide your movement until you're taking the hint, arms wrapping around him while you bounce to a faster, needier pace. 

His hot breath on your lips, he praises before he kisses you, "There, just like that. Just like that."

Your moans into his mouth grow louder, your eyebrows knit together from the pressure. The sound echoing each time you move is getting wetter. Aki kisses your lips over and over again to keep your noises muffled, allowing no-one else to hear. His thumb caresses your cheek as a form of encouragement, too tender for how dirty this is, for how wildly you're riding him.

And between your perfect noises and the squeeze of your slick pussy around him, he can't help himself — He rocks his hips up into you, the fat tip of his cock nudges right where you wanted it and your cunt is pulsing. He separates from you with one last kiss, he strokes your shoulders gently because you're suddenly panting so hard it sounds like it hurts. 

Aki gives you a moment. Then, he's taking in a shaky breath. "Did you-" 

"Can't help it," You answer, and Aki's gulping, his throat dryer the more you go on, "I haven't since the last time you were here. I didn't even touch myself."

"Shit," He rubs his temple with his fingers, trying not to stutter, "You were waiting for me?" 

You wrap your arms around him innocently, you hum an mhmm into his ears. Aki feels heavy, your lips press to the side of his neck and scatter kisses onto his skin, and he finds your hips, grinding you close. Already, you're quickly working your way back up, humping against him messily with trembling thighs, chasing as much pleasure as you are willing to take.

Aki mutters a Careful, into your ear, slowing you a bit. His hold on your hip keeps you going at a lax pace, getting yourself used to it again, gentle arcs of your hips still more than enough to make you moan.

He won't make you wait. Not now, not ever. Aki's going to have you come undone for him over and over again, until you can't take anymore. Until pleads of his name are stuck in your throat, until there's no doubt in your mind that he's yours.

This time, he thrusts up into you without any hesitance, gasps and whines leave his lips in tandem with your own, just as loud. Your movements are ragged, you're sensitive since you've already came and Aki takes full advantage — Rutting his dick nice and deep, he's got you falling towards the edge already. It's completely different to have him in control, to have him fuck you how he knows you like, to feel him stuttering because he doesn't want to come undone yet and to hear his focused breathing in your ear, heavy and all for you.

He melts at your earnest little noises, he kisses your cheek, kisses you like he loves you. You ask him for more and he nods, he gives you everything. More of his cock, more of his devotion. 

"Aki-" You drop your forehead to his shoulder and oh, you sound perfect, "I'm gonna cum-"

Aki tremors with the weight of how close he is, his heart pounds fiercely in his chest. He holds you as close as he can get you and rocks you on his cock, giving you just enough.

"I've got you," He pants, palm working up to hold your back, his words are syrupy and warm, "I'm gonna cum inside you- Let go for me."

A few more moments and you're finishing in unison; Aki spills inside, thick and dripping, his chest heaves, his arms are trembling. Your core fills with warmth, he mutters a quiet shhh into your ear because you're getting loud. You fall limp against him and Aki keeps you close. He opens his eyes slowly, his vision a blur, coming into focus after a couple of blinks.

Your hips lift to allow him to slip out. Aki's lips purse, his palm caresses your side. He brings you up more and he presses the tip of his still hard cock to your entrance, easing in just barely at first, and then sighing along with you as he easily slides all the way back inside. 

"Don't stop," Aki chokes, you can't tell if it's a plea or a command, "Not yet." 

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. "Someone's gonna see us."

"Let them." He strokes your sides, speaks right up against your nape, "Just... stay still. Don't push yourself. But don't move. I'm begging you."

Your legs are beginning to hurt. Your head is spinning, he holds you and murmurs under his breath a weak apology, one you don't even know what for. Aki isn't a selfish man, he isn't greedy. Everything he does, he does for you, and you're sure of it. You have no idea if you can cum anymore but you're willing to try, you're going to try, because you know that's exactly what he's after.

You catch your breath for a few moments longer. Every fiber of yourself sears in the shape of his name, you start to rock your hips shallowly — The smallest movements, and yet they're still so goddamn overwhelming. Aki reminds you that you can take more with his lips on your jaw, his kind touch on your spine.

Your whole body aches with pleasure. It's hard to move, so wet and slippery from his cum. His shaft is a creamy, sticky white when you lift up nearly all the way only to sink back down. The faint kisses he gives to your neck make Aki's lips quiver, he sneaks a glance at the sight of you taking him and thinks his heart might beat right out of his chest.

You're both so fucking messy. Your thighs are soaked, his cum is leaking everywhere each time you move; you've got his chair filthy, his lap even filthier. He was supposed to pull out and he'd planned on it until he got those thoughts in his head about you being his, and despite how risky it is, all he can think of now is how badly he wants to give you some more.

He thinks he's straight-laced, yet he gives in to your temptation all too easily. He can't stop. Though, neither can you.

You can feel him in your stomach, and it's too fucking good, too perfect. Aki makes the prettiest face when he's inside you, you stare at him the moment before your foreheads touch and he looks like he might cry, but you wouldn't mind that. You'd wipe the shiny droplets from his pretty face and tell him to promise to fuck you like this for the rest of his days, never holding back, love-filled and burning with longing.

He's got you bouncing on him faster now, one hand in yours, the other resting on your ass. His bangs form a sweaty mess around his face. He keeps his forehead to your own, laces his fingers with yours and holds on like you're his only tether. He feels you slow down, listens to your feeble gasps for breath. You steady, and he takes the reigns away from you, rolling his hips, fucking you deeply with no chance to rest.

You give him one more grind into his lap with the last of your energy.

"Oh, f-fuuuck, that's it-" He's breathless, just as overwhelmed as you are, "Fuck, fuck… Say my name. Please." 

You whine, shaky hand grabbing onto his tightly as he thrusts into you over and over: never rough, just heady and intense, more than you've ever been used to, but everything you need. You pant his name between heavy gasps of pleasure. Aki, Aki, Aki… 

"God…" Aki can't take this, he shuts his eyes to keep them from rolling into the back of his head, "I'll never leave you, I won't leave you again I swear. Look at me." 

You know he's telling the truth, you'd never doubt his words but when he holds your cheek in his hand and guides you to meet his eyes you're sure he isn't lying. Pupils blown wide, but eyes still so blue, the night sky's reflection on the ocean. His breath hitches the instant you're looking at him, his face is so hot he can't stand it. He's gonna lose it, he thinks he'll lose everything right here and now and he wouldn't even care, as long as you're with him, as long as you're happy. He needs to make you happy. Nothing else matters, nothing.

"Please, I- I'm sorry," He can hardly speak, talking through clumsy bucks of his hips, "I r-really am, 'm sorry, you're so important to me, you're everything."

You whine something inaudible, Aki kisses your lips and tastes the smoke on your breath — He wants to say more, wants desperately to mumble some nonsense about how he's gonna fix it, he won't make you miss him anymore, you can run away together or something stupid, and you're gonna be his and it'll be perfect. But once he's close, he can hardly manage anything near that, so he just says the best happy medium.

"Love you," Aki gulps, his whole body feels warm, so warm. "I really do."

You moan loud for him, you reach for his shoulders and hold onto him tight. "Love you more than anything, Aki-"

That's it. That's all he needed to hear.

Aki whimpers hard, you feel him promptly throb inside you; he freezes up and needs another second to start hastily fucking into you again. He pulls you into a hug way too tender for this, he thrusts into you as best he can with clumsy movements and weak knees, his hand gently holding the back of your head.

"I- I love you," He's crying now, he's definitely crying, "I'm so- I love you, I'm gonna- Are... are you close?"

As if on queue, you nod your head quickly and you manage to gasp, "Cumming again, I'm gonna cum-"

Aki kisses the side of your face, he curls into you, he chants your name like it's all he knows.

With a few final rocks of his hips, he brings you to the edge, you're louder than you've ever been and he says a silent prayer that none of your neighbors are out tonight. He was already close, but the feeling of you pulsing around him, tight and warm, has him cumming again right after you, filling you up for the second time. He slows gradually, he takes you to a gentle peak. You come down nice and easy, while Aki holds your chin and kisses every inch of your face.

You breathe one final huff, and then you collapse right into his chest.

"You alright?" Aki rubs your back, he lifts you off of him and briefly stumbles from the sudden lack of sensation. "Think you can keep going?" 

You laugh, your voice all raspy. He smiles to himself, finding it pretty. You bury your face in his shoulder. "Dunno. Maybe."

"I'll help you clean up first. And go get condoms. The corner store a few blocks down is still open this late, I think."

"Not necessary. The second thing you said, not the first."

"I still miss you." Aki admits, honest, "I know that doesn't make any sense because you're right here, but…" 

Your breathing's grown deep. You lean back, and you've got a grin tugging at your cheeks as you reach to brush stray strands of hair away from his face and behind his ears.

"We can keep going, I'd like to. If you give me a little bit to relax."

From here on out, he'll give you all that he has.

Aki wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. He gestures for you to go inside.

"My room. We've got all night."

[splatoonpolls]

so the Pokeverse drama for those who don't use twitter

I am using these threads

They copied the slogan from the biggest pokemon group in the Philippines

The tickets costed P1000 (17$) and for The Philippines that is double the average price, and the VIP tickets were P6000 ($102). and the three day ticket costed P19500 ($331). While children got in for free, it was either under 5 or under 12. That info wasn't clear enough

Cosplayers got in for half the price, except one who cosplayed someone the staff didn't recognize

There were first 39 artists tables, that then went down to 15

There was the ravioli man, a man who ate a jar of ravioli and smelled bad (children were at the event btw)

It was 9000$ per table. and the tables were 1mx1m

Several activities were falsely advertised or had a lot of missing info. The baking one not even being baking and the digital painting one being for kids, but they required the kids to bring with them their own ipad. The teacher was prepared to teach in autodesk sketchbook for an older kids, there were 9 year olds there. The teacher did do a good job though

The artists were not treated well at all. One of the artists spoke out about it on her facebook

They ran out of tickets on day two so they used stars

After a decade long return, the inflatables returned

there was no lounge for the cosplayers to change into their cosplays

The camera crew did not respect people's privacy

The healider guests, Veronica Taylor (one of Ash's voice actors) and Jason Paige (the guy who sang the pokemon opening) were really nice during the entire event however. But they were not paid

A really shitty stamp rally compared to one organized by Pokecon (organized by Pokemon Philipines)

Make-a-wish worked with Pokeverse. But instead of pokeverse letting the kids meet the headliner guests in private. They had immunocompromised kids stand on stage with a ton of stranger around them. They recorded the kids faces and everything on facebook, they had to introduce themselves. They decided to film someone who the staff knew had scopophobia and uploaded their face without their consent,

They filmed several people without their consent,

the person who made the thread complained on facebook and pokeverse did not liked being exposed

Also she posted this

TLDR, this is probably the worst con event i have seen someone talk about. Not respecting peoples personal space, not protecting immunocompromised kids, and having horrific company transparency and taking advantage of pokemon fans both young and old

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x f!reader ~ 1/6

AN: Hello! This is a very overdue, completely revised version of one of the first Eddie fics I ever wrote. Hopefully I fixed all of the issues and things I didn’t like. Fingers crossed I didn’t miss anything… hope you enjoy!!

Master list

Summery: This summer was suppose to be the summer to work at your favourite place in the world with your best friend. But things take a turn when it isn’t your best friend you end up working with.

CW: camp AU, counsellor!eddie x f!camp counsellor reader, popular!reader, 18+ content, drinking, weed consumption, angst, eventual smut, fluff, reader and Eddie are in their 20’s. Part 1/?

wc: 13.4k

Finally, your last freshman year of college exam was behind you. Summer was at your fingertips, and you couldn't wait to get it started. Summer was when you could escape the pressures of college life and the expectations of the people in your hometown of Hawkins. Growing up, you were incredibly popular. You were on the student council, a competitive dancer and co-captain of the cheer team in high school. Dancing was your passion; you enjoyed all styles, from jazz and contemporary to ballet and hip-hop. Cheerleading was also important to you; you made the team in your first year of high school. Although you never set out to become part of the popular crowd, your involvement in these extracurricular activities naturally led you to that status.

“Hey! Wait up!” You turn and see your best friend Ashley running towards you as you exit the university campus doors. “I can’t believe you’re trying to sneak out on me before you’re gone for the whole summer!” She exasperated. “It’s not my fault you didn’t send your resume in time! I put a good word for you and everything.” You huffed back with an eye roll. You and Ashely were supposed to work at the sleepover camp where you’ve been a counsellor for the past two summers. Yet Ashley conveniently forgot to submit her application in time.

When you started working at Camp Murdock, nobody knew who you were. It was a fresh start, a clean slate. The camp is located about four hours north of your hometown, and people from all over come to work there for two months during the summer season. Maybe it was the natural surroundings, but you broke out of your shell during your first summer there.

You were no longer labelled as the prude-popular-teacher’s pet cheerleader; you were just you, the loud, outgoing, funny, and goofy camp counsellor. The campers loved learning silly dances to camp songs with you, and you truly felt like yourself at that camp. This summer, you were looking forward to spending time with Ashley, the one person from back home with whom you feel comfortable being yourself. Unlike yourself, Ashley is a confident and independent girl who never adhered to societal norms or cared much about what others thought of her. She was always the one to speak her mind, dress the way she wanted, and hang out with whomever she pleased. Her free-spirited nature and carefree attitude were a breath of fresh air for you, especially since you've always worried about fitting in and what others thought of you. You had hoped that this summer, you could let your guard down and be yourself, only this time with your partner in crime.

You and Ashley were like two individuals from different worlds. While you were more inclined towards mainstream activities, Ashley had a unique taste in hobbies and interests. She was a passionate photographer who loved capturing the world through her lens. Ashley was also a big fan of the Dungeons and Dragons fantasy game and punk music, and she didn't care much about conforming to social norms. Then there was Ashley's style. She was equally distinctive and rebellious. She had short hair, which was always styled in an edgy way. She loved to wear dark, smokey makeup with lots of eyeliner, which matched her punk-inspired wardrobe. She often wore baggy flannel shirts, big jeans and combat boots – a look very different from your own.

Walking together, you two were like a study in contrasts. You attracted many curious glances from the people around you, especially freshmen not used to seeing such different styles. However, over time, people got used to your strikingly different looks and learned to appreciate the uniqueness of your friendship.

“Ash, why couldn’t you submit your application on time?!” You groan as someone catches your eye, walking out of the parking lot.

Him. The guy you’ve been crushing on since the tenth grade. The upper-class man who was supposed to graduate the year you discovered who he was but was held back a few years. When he finally graduated, you saw him around town occasionally, but now you watched as he exited the corner store across the street from the school.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me; you couldn’t have—” she cut herself off, noticing you were practically drooling at who caught your eye. “You know you could just talk to him? I always talk you up when we play DND.” she raises her brow. “And say what? Hi Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for three years now. Would you please go out with me?” Ash rolls her eyes in response. “Babe, you know you’re one of the most popular girls in Hawkins. You can have any guy you want! You need to try. Start with a ‘hello,” she said, pushing your shoulder toward his van. “Ashley Joanna Thompson, stop!”Just because you’ll never have boy problems…” you frown at her. “You’re right. I only have girl problems. Men are simple creatures, ” she states as a matter of fact. You once again roll your eyes and glance over one more time in Eddie’s direction, seeing him light up a cigarette as he drives off the lot, blasting his heavy metal. You sigh as you get into your car and drive you and Ashley back to your shared apartment.

After returning home, you took a moment to relax and celebrate your successful day with a refreshing drink. You then continued to pack your duffle bag, carefully considering which items you would need for your upcoming trip. As you packed your last-minute essentials into the bag, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia and sadness thinking about Eddie Munson. You remembered the brief encounter with him in the parking lot and realized that this would be the last time you would see him for the rest of the summer.

As the clock strikes 10:00 pm, you try to calm yourself and get some rest for the long trip tomorrow. However, your mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Eddie, and you can't seem to shake this crush off your mind. You've only had the chance to speak to him three times, and they were all brief and awkward "Heys" when you picked up Ash from the DND club. Despite the limited interactions, you find yourself constantly thinking about him and wondering what it would be like to get to know him better. The more you try to push him out of your mind, the more persistent the thoughts become, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You wonder if it's just a fleeting crush or if there could be something more to it.

When you settle into bed, you let your mind drift off to when you first saw him…. As you made your way through the labyrinthine halls of the school, your mind was preoccupied with the task of finding the drama room. You had promised Ashley that you would pick her up after cheer practice and didn't want to be late. After a few twists and turns, you finally saw the door you sought. Glancing at your watch, you realized you were already 15 minutes behind schedule, thanks to the practice running over its allotted time. Without hesitation, you reached for the door handle and pushed it open. “Hey Ash, I'm so sorry I’m late! Practice—“You stop dead, looking at the group of eyes staring up at you. Your cheeks burned, and you felt embarrassed when you realized they weren’t done yet and had interrupted. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I thought I was late.” Giving Ash a knowing look to say, “Help me.” “It’s ok, babe. We will be done in 15 minutes. Right guys?” She looks around at the rest of the club to confirm; your eyes watch each face to ensure they all nod. “Sit with me,” she smiles. You walk around the group of guys, plus Ashley, smiling meekly as they all stare with mouths open but one. As you saunter towards Ash, you notice all eyes follow your every move. When your gaze meets his, you feel a sudden and unexpected surge of fluttering in your stomach. His eyes are big, beautiful, and the colour of warm chocolate. They exude a softness and warmth that make you feel safe and secure.

His hair is longer than any other guy's at school. It falls in soft waves around his face, giving him an air of mystery and intrigue. You can't help but wonder what it would feel like to run your fingers through it. You notice the leather belt he's wearing, with handcuffs as the buckle. It's both alluring and dangerous at the same time.

His shirt is cut off at the elbow, revealing his forearm tattoos. On his upper arm, you see a group of bats, their wings spread wide as if ready to take flight. But it's the tattoo on his inside forearm that really catches your attention. It's a marionette puppet of a monster, but it was being controlled by a hand. It’s a strange and eerie tattoo, but it only adds to his mystique.

“What’s with pompoms?” One of the other guys asks, jerking you out of your trance. “Don’t be such a jerk, Jered. This is my best friend,” Ashley scowls back. Suddenly, you’re very self-conscious about the cheer practice uniform you had on. “I’m sorry to interrupt again; please continue.” You squeak, trying to keep the peace. The group of them roll their eyes, all but him.

You basically run out of there as soon as Ash is finished. “Who was that?!” You nod your head in his direction as you watch the group if them walk away. “Who? Eddie? He’s our Dungeon Master. He's really theatrical, and he makes you picture the scene,” she laughs. “Eddie,” You sigh. “Oh no, you’re joking, right? You’re a cheerleader, and you’re telling me Eddie Munson is your type?” she almost yells while they’re still in earshot. Clasping your hand over her mouth, you look at Eddie, hoping he didn’t hear anything. “Would you shut up? Why don’t you announce it to the whole town?” You spit through your teeth. “Besides, he didn’t even look at me. I’m some scrawny 10th grander. I’m probably not even his type! You see his tattoos, leather, and chains… he’s probably into rocker chics, and he’s what?” “12th grade,” she confirms, and you groan. “I’ll put in a good word,” she teased. “Would you?” You bite my fingers, giving her the best puppy eyes. “You owe me.” She rolled her eyes.

That was three years ago, and Ashley's “good word” clearly wasn’t doing anything. So you roll over in bed and finally doze off.

—

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your alarm clock jolts you awake, and as you groggily reach over to turn it off, you notice the bright red digits displaying 6:30 am. Your first summer day has finally arrived, but you don't get to savour it with a lazy morning. You stretch your arms and rub the sleep out of your eyes while taking a moment to appreciate the soft light filtering through your window.

As you start your day, you decide to wear your favourite camp clothes—a pair of well-worn jean shorts and last year's Camp Murdock heather grey tank top. Camp Murdock is printed in green to match the forest-green spaghetti straps. You slip on your trusty white Keds and take a moment to admire how perfectly the outfit fits you in the mirror.

Before saying goodbye to Ashley, you pack your food and prepare yourself for the long journey ahead. You have four hours of driving before you reach the camp, but you can't wait to get there. The day is filled with excitement, counsellor bonding, and cabin preparation - all in preparation for the campers' arrival in three days.

As you hit the road, you let your mind wander, thinking about all the camp activities you'll enjoy. The warm sun streams through the car window, and you can feel the anticipation building up inside you. You know the journey ahead won't be quick, but you're ready. You take a deep breath and let the adventure begin. The sweet smell of the nearby lake is in the air, adding to the excitement of being up north. It's so strong that you can almost taste the cool, refreshing water on your tongue. You can't help but feel excited as you imagine the adventures that await you at Camp Murdock.

The camp is 20 minutes from the main road, providing a sense of seclusion from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. As you inch closer, the aroma of the surrounding Birch trees fills your senses, as does the sweet scent of freshly cut grass and wildflowers. After an arduous 4.5-hour journey, you finally arrive at Camp Murdock.

Your blissful thoughts were rudely interrupted by a big van cutting in front of you, nearly hitting your front bumper. “Asshole!” You yell out the window while giving the finger. The driver gave a mocking wave as they sped off. This road only goes to one place. You’ll give them a piece of your mind. Minutes later, you arrive and pull up beside the van that had cut you off. You slammed the door as you exited your small red Ford sedan, still feeling furious. This was definitely not how you wanted to start your day. As you huffed and puffed, you noticed the van looked familiar… but no, it couldn't be the same. It was different; it had to be.

You look around the parking lot and notice other cars from past employees, but you don’t see anyone yet. You feel a small butterfly in your stomach, thinking, what if it is the van you think it is? As you take a moment to absorb your surroundings, you notice the quaint cabins, the inviting mess hall, and the mesmerizing beauty of the lake. You can't help but feel a sense of peace and tranquillity as you stand in your happy place.

The gentle waves of the lake, the rustling of the trees, and the chirping of the birds create a serene atmosphere you never want to leave. Every time you come here, you feel refreshed and renewed, ready to face whatever life throws.

“Bambi! you made it!” You whip my head around to see Robin, your best camp friend, whom you’ve worked with for the past two summers. Every year, counsellors are assigned nicknames a few days before the kids come. “Birdie!” You embrace her in a big hug, forgetting about the van and the possibility of who it belongs to. “How are you?! How did you get hotter? I didn’t think that was possible. Come, everyone’s already here! And you have to meet the newbies.” She smiles. You leave your belongings in the car and rush to the mess hall with all the other staff. “So, see any cuties so far?” You jokingly giggle. “Oh, just you wait,” she blushes, making her cheeks the same shade of pink as her tank top. Glancing around, you see our other alumni. “Hey, guys!” You wave enthusiastically. Your best camp friends, Steve, a.k.a. Moose, Nancy, a.k.a. Scout, and Billy, a.k.a. Coyote. They all embrace you in welcome hugs, and you cannot wait to catch up.

You stood scanning the vast wooden mess hall, taking in the rustic ambiance of the place. As you gazed down the rows of brightly coloured picnic tables, a sense of excitement and anticipation began to build up inside you. You were looking for new faces, hoping to meet someone interesting. But deep down, you knew that there was one particular face you were subconsciously seeking out - one that held a special place in your heart.

As you walk around up to greet more of your fellow coworkers, the memory of the van still lingers in the back of your mind. You can't shake off the ‘what if’ feeling you've been carrying since you saw it earlier. You try to push it to the back of your mind and focus on the task at hand—socializing with your colleagues.

As you make your rounds, exchanging pleasantries with familiar faces, your eyes quickly dart across the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a figure — a guy with long, curly brown hair dressed in all black. He seems to be in a hurry and is quickly exiting the building from the opposite side of the room.

You can't help but wonder who and what he's up to. You try to catch another glimpse of him, but he's already gone. Curiosity catches up to you, and you excuse yourself from the conversation. You ungracefully maneuver your way through the sea of people, weaving in and out of the throngs until you finally reach the red saloon doors to exit the mess hall. Taking a moment to pause and assess your surroundings, you are struck by the lake's serene beauty. The water is calm and placid; you know it will no longer remain this still for the next three months. The sun shines brightly overhead, casting a brilliant glow across the water's surface. The light is so intense that it almost blinds you, but you can't help but be awed by the breathtaking view before you. You quickly look over to the cabins and see no one. Then, looking to the left, you can see the sports field, not a soul. Where could they have gone? You think. “Bambi, where did you go?” You hear Coyote, a.k.a Billy, behind you. “I thought I saw someone… guess not.” You shrugged. “Don’t worry, you’ll meet everyone. We’re about to start introductions by the pit.” He smiles. “Ok, let’s get going!” You jump onto his back, and he piggybacks you to the fire pit. You met Billy last summer, and he became a very close friend. He and Steve were your go-to guys for anything.

As you and Billy approach the fire pit to greet the other counsellors, you can hear them chatting and catching up before sitting on the bleacher benches around the pit. “OKAY, CAMP, MURDOCK STAFF, TAKE A SEAT AND LISTEN UP!” The camp director, Carol’s voice echoed from the megaphone. You all listen, and you sit between Billy and Robin. “All right, councillors and staff. Let's review some ground rules before we get to the good stuff.” It's good to know Carol’s megaphone still works. “I know some of you are vets here at Camp Murdock, but we have some new faces, so we need a refresher.” You watch Steve roll his eyes as he sits across from you, and you stifle a giggle. Carol continues, “Basic ground rules: Staff are not to be out of their cabins after 11:30 pm, and staff are not to be in the lake alone or unsupervised by another staff member. Staff are NOT allowed to have a romantic or physical relationship with a camper... That said, staff can be with each other if it is consensual, just not during camp hours.” Carol’s eyes graze the crowd as the groans for the guys all come out in sync. This was not a new rule per se, but it was heavily enforced. Last year, Angela and Connor were caught making out in the barn while they were supposed to be on field duty, and both were fired on the spot. “We, here at Camp Murdock, value the experience of the campers and our staff; we know you want to have fun, and you can do whatever you like after camp hours, as long as it’s legal.” That got some giggles from the crowd. The staff were known to sneak in alcohol and pot from time to time on your off days between camper rotations or just in the evenings to blow off some steam. “What are camp hours? I’m so happy you asked! Breakfast is 8:00 am to Bonfire at 8:30 pm. Campers are in cabins by 9:25 pm. That allows councillors to do what they like before we all have to be in our cabins by 11:30 pm on the dot! Do I make myself clear?” Again, her gaze scans the crowd of young adults in front of her, and you see the crowd nod simultaneously. “Good,” she sighs. “Now, Each cabin will be assigned a bit differently this year. Four councillors per staff cabin instead of our usual 6, and camper cabins will be assigned with 2 councillors for 8 campers. Our ages of campers this year remain the same, eight to sixteen years of age. All cabins will be assigned randomly, and you cannot ask to switch with someone… I will assign that later, before the campers arrive, so you and your partner can set up the cabins as you see fit. Next onto the good stuff!” Carol explained the games and how she would divide the staff into six teams.

Those who had attended the event knew that having Steve and you on their team guaranteed victory. Due to your petite stature, you were small enough to blend in and navigate through the trees without being detected, while Moose, a.k.a. Steve, was the fastest kid in the state for three consecutive years. Together, the two of you were an unbeatable team.

“ALRIGHT, LISTEN UP!” Carol’s voice booms in the megaphone again. “Listen for your names to be called! First, we have the Green team…" your name is not called, “and Next is Purple…” still not called. “Okay, Red Team…” still nothing. “Fourth up, we have the Yellow team…” you hadn’t heard your name yet… “Ok Blue… Edward Munson…” At first, you don't realize it because no one at home calls him Edward, but then you lift your head abruptly when it hits you. Your eyes darted back and forth, scanning the area for a man whose name had been called.

Finally, you spotted him descending the bleachers two rows behind you. He had his brown curls tied back in a low bun, wearing a Black Sabbath shirt with the sleeves cut off, revealing his muscular arms, and his signature black skinny jeans hugged his lean legs. A cigarette dangled from his lips, adding to his rugged, rebellious appearance. You watched, transfixed, as he made his way down towards Carol. He flashed her his charming smile as he approached her and accepted his new counsellor shirt. “Edward, no smoking.” She grabs the cigarette from his mouth and puts it out with her foot. “Whatever you say, boss lady,” he smirks at her and walks to the rest of his team. You looked over to Robin, who was being called next, “Oh my god, it’s him!” You half-whisper to her as she gets up. “What?” she looks confused. “Robin Buckley,” you hear Carol call again. “From school! That’s the guy I’ve been talking to you about since last summer!” You glance in his direction. She smiled and wiggled her eyebrows as she went down so Carol would never call her again. “Miss. Buckley,” for the third time, sounding irritated. “Sorry Carol, I’m coming!” she grabbed her shirt and smiled. “OK! Last, we have the Pink team… Rebecca Dawson, Jason Adams, Connie Tilbury, Christopher Jenkins, Ashton Richards, and last but not least, Y/N.” She smiles, finishing the roll call. As you get up and walk over to Carol to collect your camp shirt, you look over to see if Eddie hears your name being called. As you stare over, he doesn’t even glance. He is too busy listening to Robin talking his ear off, pointing in your direction while standing next to Steve and the others on the Blue team.

As the day progressed, you took a lunch break and caught up with Steve and Robin in the line for food.

“That new guy is pretty badass,” Steve exclaims. “Oh, Bambi would know.” Robin winked. Your cheeks suddenly felt flush. “What am I missing?” Steve looks between the two of you. “Bambi looooooves him.” Robin smiles. “Bird, remember how we talked about you sharing too much? You’re doing it again,” you said in a singing voice to avoid sounding mean. However, your face was a dead giveaway as Steve looked down at you. “Edward? That guy is your type?” His voice was loud a little too loud “Would you shut up? Announce it to the whole camp, why don’t you?” You huffed. “No wonder Billy couldn’t get in your pants last summer,” he said half under his breath. “Hey!” you smack his chest with your empty cafeteria tray.

"Jeez Bambi, chill!" Steve defends himself.

“Coyote is just a friend, and there is no way he flirted with me last summer?” You watch, and Robin and Steve look at each other and then back at you, shaking their heads like you’re the crazy one.

“So tell us more about this, Edward.” Steve raises his eyebrows. “He likes being called Eddie.” You mumbled. You didn't enjoy discussing school and home when you were here. This was your escape, but Steve was a trusted friend. “He’s two years older, and he’s really good friends with Ashley. You know, my best friend from home? and I don’t know; I’ve had a big fat crush on him since the tenth grade.” “Billy’s not going to like this; he has competition.” Steve laughed. “No, he doesn’t because I don’t like Billy like that; now I’m not sure I even like him anymore, knowing he was only trying to sleep with me last summer.” You crossed my arms.

As you were about to continue, Billy and Nancy joined the group, and the subject changed. After finishing lunch and the last two activities, we were all called to the sports field to split into our capture-the-flag teams.

“ALRIGHT PEOPLE, LISTEN UP!” The megaphone was more ear-piercing than ever. “Remind me to bury that thing tomorrow.” You hear Eddie mumble to Steve, and you cannot help but giggle. “The teams will consist of Yellow, Red and Green as one and Blue, Pink, and Purple as the next team. However! I will split up Steve and Y/N to make things an even playing field this year.” Your head whips to Steve, and he mimics you before you both yell, “WHAT?!” in unison. “Common Carol, that’s so not fair!” Steve yells out. “Too bad, Moose. You’ll be with the Yellow, Red, and Green side this year; it's the final decision.” Your shoulders sink with disappointment as you watch Steve walk to the other team, cheering and greeting him with open arms. “Alright, I’ll give you 20 minutes to strategize, hide your flag, and devise a game plan. We meet back here at 3:00 p.m. on the dot!” She blows her whistle, and you move to our headquarters, the lifejacket shed. The group moves as one, and you notice who else is on the team. Birdie, Scout, and, most importantly, Eddie. The rest of your friends move to the front, taking on team captain rolls, while you linger behind, trying to summon the courage to speak to Eddie. This was your chance to get friendly; the universe gave you an opportunity, and you had to seize it.

Eddie lingered at the back of the group, and you slowed down just enough, pretending to tie your shoe so he could catch up with you.

“Hey, Eddie.” You smile at him. Eddie looked at you curiously and was a little caught off guard as if he wasn’t expecting anyone to talk to him. “Oh, uh, hi.” He was curious as to how you knew his name. “I didn’t think I would see you here this summer.” You giggle. “Uhh… yea…?” Eddie had no idea who you were, but he did know one thing: you sure were pretty.

Your facial expression betrays you as you attempt to force a smile, revealing the true emotions bubbling beneath the surface. He didn’t know who you were. You are only with Ashley twenty-four-seven back at home, attached at the hip, and he still has no clue. You feel a rush of heat creeping up your neck and spreading to your cheeks, a tell-tale sign of embarrassment. So you choose to give a slight nod, try to laugh it off and turn back so you can catch up to Robin and Nancy.

How could you be so stupid to think he would know who you are?! Of course, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t care about cheerleading, pep rallies, or anything else. You reach up to touch the messy bun atop your head and yank out the white scrunchy so you can hide behind your hair, trying to make yourself feel better. As you catch up with your friends, they can see on your face that something is up.

“Oh, don’t get too upset. Bambi, we can still beat them even if Moose was forced to abandon us this year.” Nancy encourages, oblivious to the real reason as to why you’re flustered. “We saw you talking to him; how’d it go?!” Robin smiled. “I’m such an embarrassment; he didn’t even know who I was.” You bury your face in your hands. “I thought you said he’s mutual friends with your BFF,” Nancy, always the observant one, asked. “Ugh, he is! That’s why I’m so embarrassed.” You let out a groan and gazed up at the clear, blue sky. “I’m sure if you reminded him that you are friends with Ashley, he would remember?” Nancy reassured you. “I don’t want to talk about it. Let’s focus on the game." You and the girls round up the team. “Ok, we take this game very seriously here at Camp Murdock.” Nancy huddles you in. “We can still win this thing because Bambi is our secret weapon. Bambi wave so everyone knows who you are.” She smiles. You put on a fake smile and wave at everyone, avoiding one person’s set of eyes in particular. Robin then takes over, “I say we make a diversion. Everyone splits up into two, throwing off the other team. Scout and I will stand guard for our flag.” She points to herself and Nancy. “Now we need someone really fast,” you chime in. No one raises their hand but one. Oh god. “Okay, Edward, you and Bambi will be together, and we will use the same strategy she and Steve used last year.” “She can fill you in. The rest will be split into pairs, and we will point you where to go,” she finishes. “Uh, you can call me Eddie; no one calls me Edward.” He politely corrects.

After the instructions, Eddie makes his way over to your side of the huddle while the rest group off to their side on their own. You're going to kill your friends. They know what they’re doing… “Hey, Bambi? Right?” he smiles. “Uh, um. Yeah, obviously not my real name… but Bambi is fine.” Your mouth was dry, and you felt you had forgotten how to speak. “Sorry about earlier. It’s, um, you look familiar, but I’m not sure where I have seen you before… ” He scratches the back of his head, his bicep flexing as he reaches up, and you can’t help but gawk at him. “Yea!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “I’m y/n, you know…Ash’s best friend…” Suddenly it clicks, and you can see the realization in his eyes. How could he have not known? Maybe its because you’re in your natural state. You have no makeup on, and your hair isn’t all done up either. “I guess I’m not used to seeing you out of your cheer uniform or attached at the hip with Ash,” he chuckles. “So, what are you doing here anyway? I didn’t think anyone else from home would show up here.” You ask. “Well, you know, I had my side business as a dealer at school… that got me by, but after my little run-in with chief Jim Hopper a few weeks back, I decided to take a break for the summer, lay low.” He smirked as you listened. “ I thought Ash would also be working here this summer since she wouldn’t stop talking about it in Hellfire, which gave me the idea. I thought it couldn’t be that hard looking after the little twerps, it’s good money.” “Yea, she really screwed me over with that one,” You scoffed. “Same… we should get her back.” He smirks. “Yeah, totally.” “So, Bambi, huh?” He raises a brow. “Oh yeah, it’s um, just a camp thing. Don’t worry you’ll get an assigned nickname soon enough.”

A moment of more awkward silence fills the air before Eddie decides to speak again. “So, what is the master plan everyone talked about back there?” He asks. “Oh umm, uh, so, usually, uh, what happens, is um, that because I’m um smaller, I uh, hide in the tree line once one of the… uh, other team members finds where the flags are hidden, I sneak off to grab it, and then uh, I’d pass it off Moose—Steve, who’s like the fastest kid in the state, but he’s not here so I’ll be passing it to you and all you have to do is to our zone then we win.” You catch your breath. You’re totally rambling and sounding like an idiot. Why can’t you speak in front of him? “Oh…ok, sounds good.” he looks confused, like he is trying to process the jumble of words that fell out of your mouth, but he gives a reassuring smile. When he looks at you like that, your legs feel like Jello, your heart feels like it will fall into your stomach, and you hardly look him in the eyes. His smile is soft and tender compared to his rough and tough exterior.

So far, things seem to be going according to plan. You both have taken cover behind a fallen tree that has become a makeshift shelter. The tree is old and decaying, and the bark peels off in places. The silence between you and Eddie is palpable, and you can feel the tension building up. You want to break the silence and talk to him, but every time you try, your words get stuck in your throat. You can't help but feel slightly envious of Eddie's calm demeanour, which contrasts sharply with your nervousness. You wish you could be as composed as him, but your mind is racing a mile a minute. The longest ten minutes pass, and finally, you can see Robin running towards the two of you. Thank God. “Ok, the flag is by the infirmary; we just need to distract them.” You walked closely behind Robin as you both made your way through the field, with tall grass tickling your ankles as you walked. You could see the lake's shimmering waters in the distance, and the sounds of laughter and chatter from the mess hall carried towards you on the gentle breeze.

Despite the distance, Robin seemed to know exactly where she was going, her steps confident and sure. You walked closely behind Robin as you both made your way through the field, with tall grass tickling your ankles as you walked. You could see the lake's shimmering waters in the distance, and the sounds of laughter and chatter from the mess hall carried towards you on the gentle breeze.

As you walked, you couldn't help but wonder if Eddie was really as fast as he claimed. After all, if he weren't, it would be quite a defeat. In all your years at school with him, you’d never seen him doing anything physical. He was more of the theatrical, misunderstood musician type. “I hope you’re not lying about being fast.” You whisper to him, not thinking about anything else but the game. “What the freak can’t be quick?” He scoffs. “That’s not what I—” “There it is!” Robin cuts you off, but you can’t help but think about what Eddie said…Freak.

The thing about Eddie Munson is that he stood out from the crowd. He was unlike anyone you had ever met. He had a unique personality that not everyone could comprehend. He was always edgy and outspoken, and he never cared about the status quo. One day, during lunchtime, he even stood on the cafeteria table and screamed at one of the basketball players sitting at your table. It was a shocking event that left everyone in the cafeteria stunned.

However, despite his eccentricities, you always admired Eddie's courage to be himself. You didn't like how everyone at school called him a freak, and you always tried to defend him. You stood up for him whenever your so-called friends made fun of him, but they never listened to you. They would mock you for "sympathizing with the freak," and it made you feel isolated.

Despite all of this, you never gave up on Eddie… your attraction to him was too strong. You always knew that he was a kind and genuine person, and you appreciated his unique perspective on life. You hoped that one day, others would see him for who he truly was and accept him for his differences.

The neon yellow flag was posted beside the infirmary door, and you could see the guards on the lookout. Ashton was rounding the corner, and Robin approached the other side as a decoy. “Follow me,” you whisper to Eddie. You could feel his gaze on your back, burning a hole through the thin material of your shirt. “On the count of three, I’ll run over, grab it and bring it back here for you. One… two… three.” You scurry as fast as your legs can take you. You grabbed it easily, but getting back was the hard part. On the way back, you made sure to hide behind objects, making sure the coast was clear until you heard a “Hey!” Steve’s voice came from behind you, and you ran. “Eddie here!” You yell to get his attention. You should have worn your sports bra today. The straps of your tank top and bra are slipping down your shoulders. You totally forgot that you would be doing this when you got dressed this morning.

As you rush towards Eddie, you notice his eyes widen as he watched you run towards him. You hand him the flag, and he takes it from you, holding it tightly in his hands. You can tell that he is not sure what to do as he stares at you, unable to move. You watch him for a moment as he continues to gaze down at you, his wide eyes focused on your chest. “What are you doing? Go!” You give him a little shove, taking him out of his trance, and then he runs like you have never seen anyone run in your life. The guy was right; he was fast.

You can hear cheering from across the field as you try to keep up with him while running away from Steve, trying not to get tagged. “Eddie, run! He’s coming!” You yell to warn him and he looks back. His long hair getting in his eyes, but he can still see Steve on his tail. “Come on, Eddie, you can do it!” You cheer, hoping he can still hear you. You watch as he touches the team's safety zone! You did it! Your team won! “Sorry, Moosey, maybe next year.” You give him a mock pout as he bends over to catch his breath. “Congrats to the winning team!” Carol cheers. “Now you can make your way to the pit. I’ll give you your cabins, and you can set them up.”

“Hey, you were right. You are fast.” You hear Becca say as the group of you return to the pit. She batted her eyes and smiled at him. Was she flirting with him? The pit of jealousy that was forming felt like a rock in your stomach. You could not let this happen, so you marched over to them. “Hey, we make a pretty good team.” Bumping Becca out of your way. “Hey, yeah, we do.” Eddie spoke and you noticed the glint in his eye when he raised his hand for a high five. A playful smile tugged at the corners of his lips, inviting you to join in on the fun. You mirrored his action, raising your own hand to meet his. When both of your palms touched, a jolt of electricity ran through your body, making your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but smile back at him as he beamed with delight. “I liked having you cheer for me; I finally get why those jocks have you around all the time.” He smirked, and your cheeks burned once again… maybe you can blame it on the sun. “Oh,” you giggled. Thanks…Um, you know, I don’t like it when you say you’re a freak…” The end of your sentence was hardly a whisper. “Oh, well, it was your friends who started it.” You wince at his words. You hate who he thinks you are, and it is all your fault for letting him believe that you are just like the rest of them. “I ask them not to, but they never listen.” You tuck your messy hair behind your ear. “Don’t worry, Princess. You don’t have to worry about that high school bullshit anymore. “Princess?” You scoff. “Well, you were the Princess of Hawkins High.” He says it is a matter of fact. “No, wasn't, you know nothing about me,” “Woah, sorry, didn’t mean to offend you.” he raised his hands in defence. “What’s going on?” Billy, out of all people, comes running up. “Nothing,” you say simultaneously. “Back off, man.” Billy was getting in Eddie’s face. Why was he acting so weird? “What the hell, Billy? Get away from him.” You tried to shove him, but Billy was a foot taller than you and much stronger. “Look, man, nothing happened.” Eddie backed away. “I’ll see you around, Princess.” He winked and walked off to the pit with everyone else. “That guy is-” “Billy, not now.” You huff, trying to walk away. “Come on, Bambi, what’s going on…” “Nothing, let’s get going.” You pull on his arm to get to the pit.

Eddie never meant to hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable, but he couldn’t help himself; there was just something about you that he couldn’t resist egging you on. You were so cute when your face would scrunch up and think you looked all mean and scary, but in reality, he could compare you to the mouse from Tom and Jerry. His need to push your buttons was strong. Your perfect, cute, irresistible buttons. Eddie had an urge and wanted to see how far he could go. From the moment you first got flustered, he enjoyed it; he liked making you flustered.

At the pit, you were all lined up to get your assigned cabins. Every cabin was assigned by gender, so girl councillors were assigned with girl campers, and boy councillors were assigned with boy campers. Thankfully, you were assigned to cabin 8 with Robin, Nancy, and Cassie, a.k.a. Clover, one of the nicest girls you know. “I'm so happy we are all back together again this year!” Nancy jumped up and down. The three of you have been inseparable the past two summers. “You guys are so lucky you're bunked together; we’re with the two newbies, Eddie and Ashton,” Billy said while walking beside Steve. “At least we’re cabin neighbours!” Nancy observes, seeing that they were assigned to cabin 7. “Bambi, this is great; you have your own little spy squad,” Robin winked, and you rolled your eyes. “What are you talking about Bams?” Billy asks. “Bambi knows Eddie from home and—” You clasped your hand over Robin’s mouth, not wanting to make anything weird since Steve shared the information about Billy liking you last summer. “And nothing.” You finished her sentence. The boys looked at you confused, but you were sure Steve would tell Billy later, seeing as they’re best friends. You didn’t want anyone overhearing since Eddie and Ashton were coming your way. “Hey guys, what are we talking about?” Ashton approached the group with Eddie by his side. “Bambi was telling us how she and Eddie are from the same hometown,” Billy piped up. “Yea, Princess of Hawkins High here,” Eddie smirked. “Please don’t,” you begged. You hadn’t shared your home life with your camp friends, and you didn’t want that to follow you here. “What’s he talking about, Bams?” Nancy asked. “What? You haven’t told them about how you’re Hawkins it girl? Popular cheerleader, homecoming queen, or ringing any bells?” Eddie questioned. “So you do know who she is!” Robin gasped. “I’m more than a cheerleader.” Your eyes stinging, holding back tears. Was that how Eddie only saw you? You guess that’s the persona you were trying to give off; you cannot blame him. But that will all change; you will make it your mission to have Eddie Munson know the real you. Your friends look at you with puzzled faces. “I mean, that makes sense. Of course, you’re popular; you’re one of the best people we know.” Nancy piped up. “Thanks, Scout.” You gave a small smile.

—

Setting up Cabin 8 was a piece of cake. You took the bottom bunk, and Cassie took the top. Robin took the other bottom bunk across from you on the other bed, and Nancy took the top bunk. You got along great with your bunkmates; you were really lucky. If anything, you could have been bunked with Sarina and her group, and that would not have gone over well.

As you helped the girls unpack their bags after arriving at your cabin, you looked out of the window and noticed that you had a perfect view of cabin 7.

You took a moment to admire the lush greenery and the serene surroundings, but your attention was quickly diverted when you noticed Eddie walking in and settling down on his bunk. You could see that he had his guitar with him, and he placed it right across from your own bunk.

After helping others with their tasks, you suddenly realize you have left all your belongings in your car. You decide to inform the girls that you needed to run to the car and retrieve your duffle.

As you step outside, you hear the sound of another cabin door being opened, but you ignore it and focus on getting your stuff. You walk briskly towards the parking lot, scanning for your car. Once you locate it, you quickly unlock the door and retrieve your duffle bag. As you are bent over in the back seat of my car, grabbing your things, a voice startles you. “Could get used to the view,” Eddie smirked. “Ahhh!” You jerk up “fuck!” You turn to see Eddie getting his things out of his van parked beside your car. “Excuse me?” “The lake, God, you’re not that full of yourself, are you?” He chuckled. “Oh, right,” you say, rubbing the back of your head, knowing you will soon have a headache. “You know, I wasn’t going to say anything… but you cut me off,” you say, pointing at his van. “Wouldn’t have to if you drove faster.” “I was going 20 over as it was!” “You know, Princess, I see why Coyote likes you,” he smirked. “What? I, huh? Don’t call me that,” He just smiled and walked away carrying his duffle. His arms showed the curve of his bicep, straining to hold up the big bag, the sheen of sweat glistening on his skin, the tattoos being showed off. You bite your lip, watching him walk away. You really needed to get laid this summer.

—

After dinner, you and the girls had drinks to loosen us up before going to the bonfire. It had been a while since the last time you drank; with finals and studying the past month and a half, no one was partying.

The booze made you feel warm next to the fire, and you could see Eddie sitting on the other side of the bonfire. You couldn’t help but stare until he caught you, and you tried quickly to look away. The second time he catches you staring that night, it didn’t bother you as much as it would have if sober. That was until, the third time within half an hour, he got up. Oh god, you made him uncomfortable.

“Like what you see?” Eddie sneaks up behind you, and you jump at the sudden closeness. “I can’t see much; there's too much smoke in my eyes.” You try to play it off. “Oh, too bad, Princess, because my view was quite clear, had a great view.” he winks. “What did I tell you about calling me that?” You groan. “You’re not helping yourself by acting that way, Prince—” he stops mid-sentence, seeing that you’re giving him a side eye, but he continues on, “Princess,” “I’m not acting like a Princess.” You rolled your eyes, only further proving Eddie’s point. “Could have fooled me, ” He shrugs. “Obviously, you’re not very good on judgment of character.” “No? Enlighten me.”

“Is there a problem here?” Billy somehow appeared again out of thin air and wrapped a protective arm around you. Oh god. “No, Coyote, we’re fine.” You debated whether to take his arm off your shoulder, but you wanted to make Eddie jealous. “I’ll see you around, Princess.” Eddie turned and walked back to the newbies he was befriending. After Eddie leaves your sight, you exhale and shake off Billy, noticing that Eddie is no longer paying attention. “Next time he bothers you, you can come and tell me.” Billy was stern, serious; he had a look in his eye like he’d knock the shit out of him. “Seriously, I’m fine… I gotta go, have an early morning choreography to do.”

—

The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the campgrounds. The excitement of the upcoming campers filled the air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation for the day ahead. As the camp's dance teacher, this was your favourite part of the summer. You loved watching the kids grow and improve their skills while helping those starting out.

As you made your way to the dance hall, you could feel the excitement building within you. The hall was empty, as expected, but you could already picture the kids dancing and laughing within its walls. You walked over to the stereo, put down your towel and water bottle, and tied your hair into a high ponytail, ready for the day ahead.

The room was stuffy and hot, with no airflow to speak of. You could feel the sweat starting to bead on your forehead, so you opened up all the windows, letting a refreshing breeze fill the air, and walked over to the standing fan, turning it up to the highest setting.

As you prepared to start your day, you reached for the mixtape you had created earlier to warm up. The tape was filled with various tracks that you thought would help get you in the right mood. You walked over to the boombox and inserted the tape, pressing play. The boombox was filled with all of your favourite songs, both new and old, from various genres. Your taste in music was eclectic, and you didn't like to limit yourself to a particular genre. You enjoyed everything from classic rock to pop, sometimes metal. If a song appealed to you, you liked it, regardless of its genre.

As the music filled the room, you felt yourself beginning to relax and get into the right mindset for the day ahead. The sweet lyrics of Whitney Huston filled the empty room, and you began getting into the movements but not really warming up anymore because the heat alone did that for you. The next song came on and you made a mental note not to use this tape when the kids came to class. The song that came on wasn’t the most appropriate.

You swayed your hips slowly, getting into it. You don’t dance like this in front of anyone unless you’re in class with friends or on stage. You typically hid your sensuality for only the dance floor or when you were having sex. You know that back at home, you are labelled as a prude, but if they only knew…

As the song progressed, so did your movments. You continued down to the floor, snaking your body before popping your hips up and down quickly before sliding back up sensually. As the music moved, you felt the need to let your hair down so you would incorporate some hair-ogropy. Deciding to get off the floor, you went to stand up but slid your hands up your inner thighs, grazing over your pussy lips, hardly being covered by your dance shorts, and continued to trail your hands up past your hips to your breasts.

You turned and swayed until you caught Eddie gawking at you in the mirror. He quickly shut his mouth when he realized you'd seen him. Honestly, if it were anyone else, you would have stopped immediately being embarrassed to expose yourself like this, but you were in your element, and this wasn’t just anyone watching. You wanted him to watch, so you continued as the song went on. Thinking of the sexiest moves you could come up with. The music suddenly stopped, and you felt thirsty. You hurried towards the sound system to turn down the volume and grabbed your water bottle. You sprinkled some water on your face and took a sip before realizing that Eddie was present in the room.

“Are you just going to continue undressing me with your eyes, or are you going to say something?” You smirked. Dance really brought out the confidence in you that normally you didn’t have. He was speechless, but you finally had the upper hand. “Uh..I…um… I thought this was the music hall.” Eddie gulped, but his mouth was dry. “No, it’s the next door over.” You smiled up at him taking one step closer so your bodies were almost touching. “You uh… you’re going to teach that to the kids?” He tried to joke, but he still sounded out of breath. “No, that’s usually reserved for a special audience.” You bite your lip. “Oh, who’s that?” His confidence coming back. You. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” You took another step closer, so close you could smell his aftershave mixed with his mint toothpaste.

His lips were plump and bright pink, probably from biting them, and his eyes were locked on your chest. You were sweating, and you could feel a bead trickle down between your breasts. He quickly looked back up to your eyes when you cleared your throat.

“I guess I was wrong about you, Princess.” He licked his bottom lip. “You don’t know the half of it.” You turn and walk back to the stereo to turn on the music again. You looked back as you turned the dial. “I’d love to continue this conversation, but I have some choreography to complete before they arrive tomorrow.” You nodded your head to the door, signalling him to leave. “Oh, uh…ok yea, I’ll just um. Thanks.” He picked up his guitar case and ran out.

-

After all the dances were complete, you headed to the communal showers. The water was always freezing, so you never wanted to stay there for long, but that cold water felt nice on your hot, sticky skin. You started to hum a random song as you ran the soap along your body.

You didn’t even realize that you actually started singing instead of humming. You must have felt comfortable enough because you only sing when you’re alone.

You're done showering by the time you’ve finished the one song; camp showers really were the quickest. You reach for your bath towel and dry off inside the stall before reaching for your clothes, but then remember that you didn’t bring clean ones. All you had was your sweaty shorts and sports bra… You quickly leave the stall, praying not too many people will see you walking back to the cabin in just your towel.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie was walking by the communal showers when he suddenly halted because he heard one of the most beautiful voices he had ever heard singing an Ozzy Osbourne song. He couldn't resist stopping to investigate. He needed to know who was on the other side. Eddie had been hypnotized, so he didn’t notice that he had been creeping closer and closer to the door to try to hear better over the running water. He was mesmerized by that voice.

When the water turned off, the singing stopped, bringing Eddie back to reality. He realized where he was and what he was doing. Tripping over his feet, he quickly stumbled back, leaving enough space between him and the fire to not look like an absolute creep. But he decided to hang around for a minute or two, pretending to fix his guitar just so he could find out who the mysterious voice was.

As you walk out of the showers, you see Eddie looking just as surprised as you were. Just your luck; the one person you did not want to see while you looked like a wet dog was standing there as if he was waiting for you. You wrap the towel around you tighter, seeing as though you are naked, and you try to avoid him, but he starts speaking. “You know, Ozzy?” He asked, dumbfounded. Oh god, did he hear you? “Uh… yea.” “You have a beautiful voice,” he says without thinking. Of course, it was you. Was there anything you couldn’t do? Eddie thought. You’re extremely smart, athletic, kind to everyone, and you fuck with metal? Why had Eddie never noticed you before?

When you locked eyes with him, his stomach felt like a thousand butterflies had awoken simultaneously. Everything suddenly made sense when he looked at you. The feeling was foreign to Eddie; he didn’t like it. Sure, he had liked girls and had a girlfriend or two, but nothing serious; never had he experienced this strong of a crush develop in such a short amount of time. He tried to swallow it; he wanted to eliminate this feeling, especially because it was you; he was unworthy of it. You deserved someone better. Before Eddie could think his legs were bringing him close to you, he wanted to be near you.

“What?! You heard me?” “I didn’t mean to. You were loud, and I couldn’t help but listen… but not in a bad way!” he said, waving his arms in defence. Was he spying on you? “Fuck! I’m sorry you’re naked, oh god, I mean, I wasn’t looking or anything, I swear! I just needed to know who that voice belonged to! Im sorry, I'll let you go get dressed; I’m not a freak who creeps on girls, I swear!” Eddie was rambling; Eddie didn’t ramble, not like this. Eddie was cool and confident, especially with girls. Eddie was in trouble.

“Eddie, I don’t think you’re a freak. Maybe a perv if you keep walking in on me in these situations.” you giggled. “But this is Murdock, not Hawkins, clean slate for the both of us.” You gave a reassuring smile. “For the both of us?” He questioned “I’m not who you think I am back at home,” you smirked as you began to walk away.

“What does that mean?” He yelled before you were out of earshot. You looked over your shoulder and gave a wink, letting the towel slowly slip as you approached the Cabin door, but you didn’t let him see anything before you walked inside. “God, this girl is going to be my death this summer,” Eddie mumbled to himself.

—

You called Ashley as soon as you were dressed. You had to walk to the office swing as there was only one phone for the staff and campers to use.

Ring, Ring, Rong, Ri-

“Hello, Thompson residence,” Ash answered “You son of a bitch!” You laughed. “Well, hello to you too,” you can hear the smirk in her voice. “You just so happened to leave out the fact that Eddie Munson has also applied for a job here?!” “Oh yeah, did I not tell you?” “Is this why you didn’t apply?! because you knew I’d be alone with him?” You questioned. “No! I genuinely forgot! But happy accident, no?” she laughed. You twisted the cord around your finger and crossed your legs thinking about it. “I cannot believe you didn’t tell me this vital piece of information.” “I thought it would be more fun this way, ya know? I get the theatrics to keep me entertained while you’re gone.” She was such a little shit “Oh, I’m so glad that my infinite crush on Eddie entertains you,” you chuckled. “Babe, come on, you’re in such a good spot! You’re the it girl, you’ve always been; you gotta loosen up, show him the real you. You’re made for one another he doesn’t know it yet because you don’t talk to him.” she emphasized. “Don’t worry. I’ve talked to him more these past three days than I have in the past three years.” You smile. “Details now!” she screamed. “I think he flirted with me while I got my stuff from my car? And he keeps calling me Princess? He said I’m the Princess of Hawkins High. You know anything about that?” There was a clear silence. “Ash!” The slice told you everything. “Ashley” “What do you want me to say? I’m surprised you didn’t know. Everyone loves you; it’s not a bad thing…” “Whatever, I haven’t gotten to the best part!” “Finally,” she sighed, and you could picture her rolling her eyes. “So I was making my dance routines before the kids come, and I had my mixtape on, so you know I was doing my thing because I was alone, or thought I was alone…” “Stop! he walked in on you?!” She gasped. Of course, your best friend has seen the types of dance you do; she is one of the most supportive people you’ve ever met. “His jaw was on the floor! and I didn’t stop, I don’t know what came over me. I just kept going; it was like my body was on fire but in a good way, not sure how else to describe it.” “Babe, oh my god, you’re going to have him in the palm of your hand before you know it.” She reassured. “And to top it all off, he bumped into me after I got out of the shower just now and told me I have, and I quote a beautiful voice.” You sighed like a lovesick teenager. “Bitch! I repeat, you’ll have him in the palm of your hand. I know what he’s like; he’s one of my best friends.” she exclaimed. “Hey! I’m your best friend.” “What I mean is one of my best guy friends… I know how he is, what he likes; trust me, he’s going to like you.” Ash really was an amazing friend. “I just don’t know if I’m his type. That nagging feeling is in the back of my head again.” “He told me once that you’re pretty,” she said nonchalantly. “What?! You’ve never told me anything before?!” “eh, guess I forgot?” Ash shrugged her shoulders. “Forgot? Ashley, come on! Im dying here. I like him so much I feel like I’m going to explode, and that is vital information.” Why would she not tell you? Maybe you’re too annoying, always talking about your crush on Eddie? “Forget Princess of Hawkins, let’s crown you as Drama Queen,” she laughed. “Shut up, enough about me. How have you been?”

— As the new day dawned, the campers eagerly anticipated their arrival at the campsite. After settling into their cabins, they were introduced to their surroundings and felt a sense of excitement in the air. Each camper was eager to make new friends and start their adventure at the camp.

The first day was filled with the joys of getting to know one another, playing games, and indulging in meals that were prepared for them. As the dance instructor, you were given the task of planning your activities for the first week. While dance was your specialty, the campers would be exposed to other activities throughout the week to keep them engaged.

Mondays were dedicated to dance, with Tuesdays offering swimming and other water-related activities. Wednesdays were all about music, Thursdays for sports and nature, and Fridays for arts and crafts. Campers could expect to rotate these activities throughout the week to avoid getting bored with any one thing for too long.

The highlight of the week was undoubtedly Tuesdays, the day when campers could take a refreshing dip in the lake. Even though swimming was designated for Tuesdays, there was free time every day for campers to explore their interests and engage in other activities, individually and with their new friends. As the summer sun beat down, the opportunity to cool off in the lake was a welcome respite for all campers. The schedule ensured that everyone could try out different activities and make the most of their time at camp.

Nighttime was an all-around favourite. After everyone was settled in their bunks, tummy full of S’mores and smelling of bonfire smoke, you, Nancy and Robin walked together towards the mess hall to find the guys playing cards. “What are we playing, and what do I get when I win?” You asked as you opened the doors. Steve, Billy, Eddie and Ashton all turned their heads to see the three of you walking through the red saloon doors. “Don’t you have campers to look after?” Steve joked. “Could say the same to you,” Robin retorted back “Touché.” He smirked. “Well, now that you girls are here, we’re playing strip poker,” Billy laughed. “Always the charmer,” You winced. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.” He raised his hands up in defence. “Fine, I know I’ll be able to stay warm while you freeze your balls off because I’m going to win.” You stare him down. Billy seemingly always had a new way of getting on your last nerve this summer. After finding out he wanted to sleep with you, all of your fond memories of him have been tainted.

“Yeah, like some girl will beat us at poker? Right guys?” Billy chuffed. The other guys knew better than to start with you or the girls. They weren’t so blockheaded as Billy was. “Not that we are excited to see your tiny dick, but shut up and deal.” You sit down, and you hear Steve, Eddie and Ashton chuckle. Yes, you are competitive, and after that exchange, you were more than ready to beat his ass.

The game went on; Nancy, unfortunately, not the best poker face, was out first, forfeiting before she was naked. Steve, Ashton, and Billy were in their boxers, and Eddie and you were still somewhat modest. All you had left was your hoodie, bra, and underwear, where Eddie had his jeans, socks, and underwear still on.

When his shirt came off, you almost lost your cool. Never had you seen him shirtless before, and it was just as good as you pictured him. He was toned, more than you had imagined, and he had more tattoos than you knew about previously. You had only seen what was on his arms before, but now you got to see a spider tattoo under his left collarbone and a zombie head under that. He has another small heart right above his right hip bone, directly beside when his happy trial started… Robin has to nudge you to break your stare before he notices.

Billy’s comment still burned in the back of your mind. You had to get it together; you couldn’t falter, and you only had fifteen minutes before you had to get back to the cabins. “So you want to call it a night, or are you ready to show me some more skin?” you asked, biting your lip. There were audible “ooooohs” coming from the other's mouths. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, Princess?” The game was getting too close until you picked up on his tell. His tongue would peek out of the side of his mouth when he was bluffing. You caught it just in time; you were about to fold when you noticed. “I raised you 15… and my bra.” You run your hand under your hoodie to unclasp it and place it on the table. Thankfully, you wore the nice red lacy one and not the boring brown one.

Eddie's big brown eyes doubled in size, which you didn’t think possible when he saw what you had been hiding under the oversized sweatshirt that hit your entire figure.

“Come on, we could have seen her like that all night if one of you were better at poker.” Billy some showing his true colours of being a total douche. You try to ignore his comment. “Nancy, do me a favour and kill Coyote for me, will ya?” You asked while staring into Eddie’s eyes. You knew you had him. “I gotta hand it to your Princess. You sure know how to keep a guy on his toes.” He folds, not showing you his hand. You breathe a sigh of relief that you didn’t know you were holding. “That, boys, is how it’s done.” You clap, and the girls cheer

The rest clear out, talking about the day tomorrow and their plans. You go to reach for your winnings bra, but Eddie's fingers clap around your wrist, not hard but firm enough for you to stop. He grabs the bra by the strap and twirls it around his finger before you comprehend what is going on. “I think I’ll keep this.” He admires it. “Uh, no, I won, I get it back. You scoff. “But did you win, Princess?” He pouts down at you. “You folded.” You say, standing up to reach for your bra. “Uh-huh, not so fast.” He lifts it higher over his head so it’s out of reach. “Come on, Eds, give it back.” You jump up to grab it, but obviously miss. Eddie liked it when you got visibly flustered, especially when you called him ‘Eds’ for the first time. “I couldn’t let those guys see you topless; what kind of gentleman would I be? Especially after you took your bra off? You heard what Billy said; he’s disgusting; how do you even like him?” Eddie shows you his cards, full house; he wasn’t bluffing. “You let me win? But I caught your tell?” you said with disbelief. “And no, I do not like Billy. He likes me, that’s it. I thought he was my friend last summer, but it turns out he was only doing it to get in my pants.” Eddie was glad and relieved to hear you don’t like Billy but also annoyed and angered that he would treat you like that. “Good to know.” He smirks. “So, my bra?” You try to give him your best puppy dog eyes, but he beats you in that department. “My winning token. I think I’ll hang this trophy over my bed and have the campers see what a real woman’s bra looks like.” He winked and turned around. Eddie couldn’t wait to rub in Billy’s face that he kept it. “Hey! I better get that back by the end of the week! You don’t know how much that cost!”

Sure, you were annoyed, but you were also a little exhilarating that Eddie wanted to keep it.

—

The next morning, you thought if you could bribe Eddie, he would give back what belonged to you. You got up early to get some coffee and bring it to his cabin to negotiate.

As you returned from the mess hall, you could see three little heads peeping into the window where Eddie’s bed was. “Hey! What are you creeps looking at?” You can’t help but giggle as you watch three petrified faces turn around. “N-n-nothing, BYE!” The tallest one stuttered, and the three of them ran. By that reaction, you had a feeling it was your bra they were gawking at. You knocked on the door three times and slowly opened it up. “Hey, it’s just me. Is it safe to come in?” you asked, not looking into the cabin in case they had been changing. “All clear, Princess, just me in here,” Eddie replied. You opened the door further and almost dropped the coffee you were holding.

Eddie stood there in all his glory, in a beach towel wrapped low on his hips. He must have just showered. His hair was wet and pushed back off his face. Water droplets still ran down to his happy trail. He had more tattoos on his legs and abdomen, but you didn’t catch what they were as he pulled his forest green Camp Murdock shirt over his head.

“Take a picture; it will last longer, Princess.” He laughed, and you snapped out of it. “I uh, um, sorry, here.” You stuck out your arm out to hand him his coffee. “You trying to poison me, Princess? That’s not very regal of you.” He smirked and took the cup. “It’s a piece offering… for my bra,” you stated. “Oh, I don’t think so; you can’t just bribe me with this sad excuse they call coffee. I have my standards.” He stepped closer to the bra hanging exactly where he said it would be. “I think I won this fair and square. I’ll need something much bigger than coffee, Princess.” he tilted his head, raising his eyebrows at you. “Fine, what do you want? A pack of Camels? Weed? Beer?” “You know I already have all those things, but I’ll think about it. Maybe I’ll ask for a favour? I’ll cash it in soon, but until then, it stays with me.” He took a step closer. “You know, a real gentleman would have walked me back to my cabin last night; I was defenceless, not even my bra to support me if I was being chased.” You mimicked him, taking another step closer.

Eddie had no clue what to think. Were you filtering back? No way. Girls like you didn’t go for guys like him?

Eddie had been around the block a few times regarding dating. He was no novice in the game of love, but he had a particular type that he usually went for. The girls he pursued were nothing like you. Unlike you, they were bold and unafraid of getting down and dirty. They were rocker chicks who were not intimidated by Eddie's tough exterior. However, as much as he enjoyed the company of these girls, he knew deep down that they could never be the ones he truly desired.

“You, Sir Lancelot, are no gentleman.”You laughed, unable to keep up the act.

"Lancelot, huh? Is that name anointed camp name?" He smirks, and you nod.

“My sincerest apologies, Princess.” Eddie bowed to you and you laughed again. Eddie swore he could listen to that laugh on repeat. “I’ll consider your apology if you give me my bra back. It’s my best one.” You bat your lashes and give the biggest puppy dog eyes. Eddie didn’t know how, but you broke him with that look. Your eye colour memorized him; it was quickly turning into his favourite colour. “I-I-I” what was happening to him? Why was he blubbering like a preteen asking out his crush for the first time? Pull yourself together, Munson. “Fine, I will because you are the Princess, and I am your knight in shining armour.” Nice. “Knight in shining armour, you say? I think you’ll have to prove yourself more before I believe you.” You brave another step closer, and the tips of your toes touch. “How can I do that, M’Lady?” “I have an idea.” You slowly raise your toes until your head is up and close your eyes. “Princess? What are y—“ “Oh hey guys, oh sorry, was I interrupting something?” Stevewalked in. You let out an annoyed huff. You were so close that you were sure he was about to lean in. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” You gave Steve a death stare that Eddie had never seen grace your face before. “What did I do?” Steve looks at Eddie. “Beats me.” Eddie shrugged before he took the first sip of the coffee you got him. To his surprise, it was exactly Eddie’s coffee order.

Next chapter

Tags: @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28

[leighsartworks216]

All This And Heaven Too

Demon!Sylus x gn!Angel!Reader

Based on this post

Title from "All This And Heaven Too" by Florence and the Machine

This fic possessed me and would not let me go until I wrote it tonight (which is bad cuz I'm sick). Very very very vague spoilers for the end of Sylus's story

Also I'm not religious and I do not smoke but the vibes, y'all, I simply had to (I looked up a wikihow for smoking)

Warnings: heavy angst, angels + demons au, major character death, unhappy ending, hurt no comfort, blood, injury, crying, kissing, drugs + smoking, underage smoking, pet names, religious imagery + symbolism, swearing

Word Count: 2,557

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Love and Deepspace Masterlist

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You sigh as you feel the oh so familiar sensation of a cigarette being shoved into your halo’s golden glow. There’s an inhale behind you, and the sensation is gone. Sure enough, when you turn around, the demon stands proudly, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Thanks, angel,” the demon, Sylus, purrs. The smoke blows into your face and you fan it away with your hand. He chuckles. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Well, it’s only been 3 centuries. How much was I supposed to change in that time?”

He studies you lazily, tilting his head and taking another drag. He settles down on a low stone wall, worn on the edges and covered in old paint. “Not interested in small talk today, angel?”

You cross your arms defensively over your chest. It’s been a long time since he’s seen you this on-edge around him. “I don’t know how you can think about anything else.” You look at the people passing by.

Teens in helmets and knee pads rolling past on boards or skates, others with no protective gear at all trying to pull off complicated flips and tricks. A couple sat under a curved wall, passing a blunt back and forth. Sylus had teased you relentlessly the first time he came across you in a place like this. Watching all these young souls take up vices so early in their lives, put their bodies on the line and break bones for a bit of fun. You didn’t notice the drugs and alcohol as much nowadays. You just saw the smiles.

“All of this will be gone in just a few days… Doesn’t that…” You glance at him. “Doesn’t that upset you?”

A kid walks up to Sylus, gesturing with his messily rolled up joint for a light. Sylus presses the end of his cigarette to the end without a word. The revolting stench of marijuana filled the air as the kid walked away. “Why should it?”

You glare at him and he chuckles.

“Oh, I’m sorry. What I meant to say was, ‘Heavens above, it’s a terrible tragedy! The horror of it all!’”

“I could smite you right now. One less demon for Hell’s army would be no loss to us.”

“But it would be to you.” He sighs, scanning the skatepark. A melancholy settles in his expression. “I suppose I will miss it. Humans know the best ways to have a good time.”

You hum. “I did always enjoy their weddings.”

“I was thinking something along the lines of lust, greed, and pride.”

“I know.”

You glance at the spot beside him. He holds the cigarette in the corner of his mouth as he takes off his leather jacket and lays it across the stone. You perch primly on it with a nod of thanks. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and holds it out to you. You stare at it with a grimace.

“This could be your last chance to try it,” he cajoles. “I promise you won’t get sent to Hell for a little thing like this.”

You glance at his face. Piercing red eyes stare at you, but you know he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. Not anymore, anyway.

You begin to reach for it but he pulls it just out of your reach. He holds the butt end to your lips, but you look at him with that sweet little look of innocence, utterly helpless.

“Shall I demonstrate first?” He puts it between his lips, the corners curled up into a devilish grin. The ashes on the end trail a little further down the paper as he inhales the tobacco smoke. He takes it out of his mouth, pauses for a second, and blows it out, away from your face this time. He holds it back to your lips. “Don’t do too much. I want this to be a good experience for you.”

“Your temptations are hardly enticing,” you scold, but there’s no venom behind it. You carefully put your lips around the filter, where his were just seconds ago, and suck in. You can’t help watching his face as you do, searching for instructions through his expressions. He nods just slightly and you pull away, holding it in for a moment like he did, and exhaling.

He brings it back to his lips. “Well?”

You scowl as you try to get the taste out of your mouth. “How do you like that?”

“Oh, angel. People don’t like the taste - not really, anyway. It’s the chemicals that trick you into thinking you need it, pulling you to it over and over again.” He leans in. His eyes gleam. “Addiction.”

“Hmph. Should I try to find something pure for you to try now?”

He shakes his head. “I already know what the holy experience is like. I’m just fine not going back to it for a second.”

A drugged-up teenager with no protective gear goes down the old wooden half-pipe. It’s been in disrepair for years. The local governments don’t care at all about trying to keep anything here in good upkeep; they haven’t for decades. His wheel catches on a broken board and sends him flying. His body scrapes against splinters and bent nails, tearing at his clothing and flesh. To add insult to injury, his skateboard goes up the other side and comes right down on his head. You can tell even from a distance that he’s broken something. He lays there for a while, groaning.

Sylus isn’t surprised when an ambulance arrives a couple minutes later, despite nobody having called for their services.

“Do you know where you’ll be stationed?” you ask. You try to seem cool-headed about the thought of going into war, but there’s a waver in your voice that he catches as easily as recognizing a lie.

“Linkon City. On the frontlines.” He passes the nearly-gone cigarette back over when he sees your hands fidget restlessly with the hem of his jacket. “What about you?”

You take it from him with inexperienced fingers, but you don’t cough this time either as you take a slightly deeper draw from it. He could almost say he’s proud, if he ignored the omen of a smoking angel.

“The same for me.”

He takes the spent cigarette from you and puts it out against a spray painted yellow smile. “So I’ll see you there, then.”

You watch the ambulance pull away with the kid on a stretcher in the back.

Sylus stands up. It’s only when he gestures to his jacket that you follow, stepping away so he can retrieve it and put it on. It’s a hot summer day, but even dressed in all black and leather, he says it’s too cold. If Hell wins… you wonder if you’ll understand what he means, then.

“If we fight each other-”

“Why do you sound so upset about it, angel?”

You take a deep breath. Your golden eyes, blessed by the light of God, stare at him with a deep seriousness. “If we fight each other, we can’t hold back. You know that, right?”

He nods slowly. “I know.”

“I… I won’t hold back.”

He nods.

“Not even for you.”

He nods again. “I know, angel.”

You nod, settling that promise into your brain. Your frown hasn’t faltered at all.

“For what it’s worth…” Red eyes look at you with no waver in confidence, but that melancholy hasn’t faded yet. “Of all the angels I could have had the displeasure of knowing, I’m glad it was you.”

-

The city was a husk of its former self. Where once people walked to and fro, going to work or the movies or the arcade, demons and angels fought in a holy war. It was chaos at every turn. Armies donned in white and black, fighting tooth and nail to win.

You had your orders. They were easy to follow: kill any demon in sight. You prayed for God to end this war before it could begin. You prayed for the final days leading up to it for this to never come to pass. You prayed until someone ripped your hands apart and shoved a sword into them.

If your body functioned like a normal human’s, you would have been panting, gasping for air as you stole through a wrecked lobby and into a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by tall buildings. Your body would have ached from exhaustion, and you think a normal human would have fallen unconscious by now.

Your body does not function that way.

Your breaths are even as you turn in a slow circle, watching for any intruders. The fight rages on mere feet away, but in here you can almost forget.

A tree stands proudly in the center. Its branches overhand a small, tiered garden. Flowers decorate the wooden boxes, spilling out over the sides from care and dedication. You gently lift one of the hanging blossoms and bend down to smell it.

Something sharp touches your neck.

You’re frozen in place. Caught off guard, staring at the flower, memorizing it so that when the killing blow comes, it is the last thing you see. The last meaningful reminder of the humans’ blessed existence.

“Hello, angel.”

You turn your head so sharply you almost cut yourself on his blade. Relief and dread swell in you all at once, a miasma of discontent. Sylus grins at you as relaxed as ever and lowers the black sword to his side.

A hollow breeze swishes his hair across his forehead. The longer strands catch in his eye, but he doesn’t brush them away. The horns on his head are sharper, crueller than usual; as dark as the deepest pit of Hell.

The golden glow of your halo highlights the planes of his face.

“Don’t hold back, remember?” he says. “Don’t lose that conviction on me now.”

Your hand shakes as you tighten your grip on your sword. You raise it in front of you. The sharpened point raised to the heavens, a symbol of your devotion. You swallow. “I won’t.”

He mirrors your position, the end of his sword aimed for the hells below. His hands are steady. He nods. That damned grin widens on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know, angel.”

Sylus attacks first. He has to. You’re paralyzed, unable to make the first offensive move. You defend instead, blocking and parrying his every move. The tree stands watch. A silent aegis to your battle.

He cuts your right cheek, and you jump away to collect yourself. The pain feels too real. How is this the natural end of the world? How can your God sit idly by and witness you crossing blades with the one creature across the Heavens, Hells and Earth whom you called friend? What merciful God would want this?

Blood drips slowly down your jaw from the small wound. Sylus paces around you like a wolf hunting wounded prey. You know he will destroy you.

You take a breath and raise your sword again. Your hand does not shake.

You strike first, reigniting the fight he lit.

It’s grueling. Neither of you dares to give in now. Hesitating would be to die. And not only did neither of you want to die, neither of you wanted to kill the other. It’s a battle built to be a stalemate. A war never meant to be won.

At least, you wish it was.

Both hands grab the hilt of your sword, holding it steady. Sylus grabs the blade.

He chuckles. It’s weak. Strained. His eyes match the blood pouring from his chest as he looks up at you. He falls to his knees. You follow.

“Well done, angel.” He wheezes, eyes squeezed shut in pain as he hunches over your blade. The sides dig into his hand, slicing his palm and fingers. “You… You won.”

All at once, the reality of the situation hits you.

“No…” You support your sword with one hand as you scramble on your knees to be closer. You grab his shoulder, sitting him up so you can see where you’ve impaled him. You let go of the sword to rest both hands on his chest on either side of the wound. “No, no, no, no, don’t- You can’t-”

Golden light shines in your hands, but black and red tendrils block your healing. You try harder, until the light blinds you, but the demonic powers within him refuse to relent. Sylus watches you with soft eyes and a grin.

“Angel,” he mumbles. You grunt in frustration as you press harder against the wound. His hand slides off the blade and covers yours. You’re panting from exertion as you finally meet his eyes. “I think… I think I wanna try somethin’ holy now… You got anything in mind?”

The glow fades. The darkness fades. You cradle the back of his head with a blood-soaked hand. It stains his hair. Your other hand grips his like a lifeline, squeezing blood from the cuts there. He doesn’t stop you.

“Something holy?” You search his face, wracking your brain for any ideas. “Okay… Okay, I can do that.”

You begin stroking his hair tenderly, scratching at his scalp, scraping sweat, blood and oil under your nails. He sighs, head resting heavily into your care. His eyes are half closed. He forces them to stay open.

You scoot yourself closer, until your knees are touching his. You lift his head up and bring your lips to his forehead. This close, you listen to every breath he takes. Every rasp and groan he exhales. You pull away reluctantly, ducking your head down so your forehead rests over your lingering kiss.

“How’s-” You clear your throat after your voice cracks. “How’s that?”

“Isn’t kissing… a sin…?”

You shake your head. “No, no, it’s not.”

He hums quietly. “You ever… kiss anyone… angel?”

You laugh despite yourself and shake your head again. “No, I haven’t.”

“Shall I… demonstrate…?”

“I’d like that.”

He abandons his sword on the ground beside him. It clatters against the carefully laid brick of the courtyard. His hand is agonizingly slow to find your cheek. His palm is cold. His thumb strokes the cut he gave you.

“C’mere… angel.”

You follow his weak guidance as he tilts your chin, pulling your lips to his. His lips barely move. You press against them a little harder.

His hand slips from your cheek, knuckles scraping over the bricks and jostling his sword. You pull away.

His eyes are hollow. Red irises staring into nothingness.

“Sylus…?” His head lolls in your hand when you try to adjust. “Sylus, please-” Your eyes fill with water. “Please, it’s not funny. I don’t need your tricks right now. Please-”

You let go of his wounded hand to hold his face with both hands. Blood from your touch stains his cheeks. Hot tears slip down your cheeks.

“Please, I- I can’t do this without you… I don’t want to do this without you…”

He doesn’t respond.

You press your forehead to his again, leaning over his body as gravity stakes its claim on him. Your tears land on his face, falling down his cheekbones and jaw as if he was the one crying, not you.

“Please… Please…” You kiss his cold lips. “Please…”

Nobody hears your prayers.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover

[mourning-sapphire]

bruised fruit | aemond targaryen | teaser

Summary: he wasn’t the warmest man on earth, he walked ashed fields and scattered fruitless seeds, that was until the sun delivered him the ripest fruit from the arbor, his to harvest. The story of a man learning to love his saccharine ladywife and all her softness.

Pairing: aemond targaryen x redwyne!wife

Warnings: For this teaser, none.

Word count: 2067

a/n: Just a small teaser to introduce our lady Redwyne - enjoy~

“I’ve heard they’re closer to the gods than any of us,” She could hear the tinkling voices of the maids from her place on the balcony, their hands busy packing her things into trunks, “Some say they shed their skins at night for their true scales” The giggles were something the young Redwyne girl would miss in these moments.

“Gods can you imagine,” She could hear the deep laugh of the older maid, Meredyth, chortle, “Waking up next to one and seeing those slits of eyes, gods i'd be paralysed.”

“Oh, I’d scream the bloody keep down!” Tayra, one of her other maids gasped out loud with a ringing laugh, “Run for Visenya’s hill and walk on foot back here.” Their laughter was infectious, and she felt her chest rumble with amusement.

They never heard her coming as she rose from her hammock on the balcony, bare feet warm against the stone as she strode back into her chambers; the sheer curtains kissing her shoulders as she peeped back in with a smile.

“I’ve heard their hair is silver because once upon a time a dragon rider flew to the moon,” Her voice was a gentle tilt as she smirked softly, the maids turning with wide eyes as they listened to her, “And the gods decided to spin magic into the strands, blessing them for making the long journey.”

There was a pause as she stopped with a smile before the women in the room started laughing again, their laughter contagious as the winter fever as she settled on her day bed, body warm from outside with a content sigh; her fan doing little to cool the heat of outside.

“Now that’s a story,” Meredyth smirked, her hands busy folding one of her summer dresses, “Be sure to tell your silver prince that one, petal, you might just make him laugh for once.” She could only roll her eyes.

“Be nice,” She sighed softly, relaxing into the daybed, “I’m sure he’s not what the stories make him out to be, Meredyth.”

“I’ve heard he hides his eye because the other could turn someone to stone,” The youngest maid, Mara, tutted softly, “Careful, my lady, lest they ship you back here to be a pretty statue in the gardens” She could only smile softly at that.

“Really?” The Lady Redwyne smiled as Tayra piped up, “I’ve heard he’s a ferocious fighter, trained by a man from Dorne; but prettier than the rest of them” Tayra huffed with a smile as she was packing up the jewellery.

“The Targaryen’s are pretty…” Meredyth sighed wishfully, her smile was almost a smirk as she recalled something beyond their years, “I remember seeing Prince Aemon in my younger years, now that was a prince” She raised her eyebrows lustfully at the young girl.

“Was there ever a Targaryen that wasn’t pretty?” She could only tilt her head as she sighed out her question, her hand delicately moving her fan to keep her cool, “I’ve heard stories that they’re just born looking godly, it’s unfair really.”

“Isn’t he called one-eye?” Tayra stopped packing to ask with a furrowed brow, “Something about losing an eye at a young age?”

“Does it matter?” She sighed softly, her hand reaching for a glass of chilled fruit juice; the juicy peach taste coating her mouth delectably, “Tis only an eye, he seems like a strong man regardless if the stories are anything to go by.”

“Let’s hope he isn’t like the other prince~” Mara sang softly, “My sister told me, that someone who works there told her that the Keep is constantly having to find new maids because the older prince Aegon is too... Handsy” Mara received a smack from Meredyth at that.

“Don’t scare the girl, Mara” Meredyth hissed softly, her eyes looking at the young Redwyne as she lounged on the daybed; the beginning of her lip starting to worry with her teeth, “I’ve heard the two princes are completely different, Prince Aemond takes after his mother.”

Alicent Hightower.

She could scarcely remember the woman, but she remembers her father Otto visiting The Arbor some years ago for business; or friendship, her father was a funny man to understand sometimes so people visiting could never pinned for business or pleasure. But from what she understood, the Queen was devoted and tense, but a lady in every textbook definition of the word.

“Well, if he’s anything like the youngest, Daeron, I’m sure he’s a charmer” Tayra mentioned with a soft smirk towards the young girl.

“Isn’t the youngest more Hightower than Targaryen?” Mara raised an eyebrow at Tayra, her hand stopping folding nightgowns, “He’s been in Oldtown since he was a lad, has he not?”

“Does he have a dragon?” Meredyth rolled her eyes, the crow’s feet around her eyes smoothing out at she looked at her two younger maids with a look that said ‘tread carefully’.

“Well yes,” Tayra hummed, “A blue thing from what I’ve heard from the mainlanders, couldn’t tell you the name.”

“Then he’s a Targaryen,” Meredyth tilted her head for a second, “The royal family and their bloody… Lizards” She mumbled as she folded yet another gown

She could only repress a soft smirk at that, truthfully, she’d never imagined ever meeting a dragon – let alone marrying someone who had one, but she supposed that this was going to be her new life now. A princess of the Realm who shared a bed with a dragon rider.

“Do you think the prince will show you his dragon?” Mara asked innocently, “He rides Vhagar doesn’t he? The last of the big dragons or something...” Mara waved her hand like she was trying to recall some intricate title, but the little lady Redwyne could see the smirks forming on Tayra’s and Meredyth’s faces at her wordage.

“Oh, I’m sure that the prince will show her his dragon alright,” Tayra smirked lustfully, much to Mara’s shock whose jaw dropped; Meredyth cackling as she watched the two girls, “If you catch my drift.” Tayra winked at her.

“Tayra,” Mara screeched softly, her face aflame as she threw one of her rolled-up nightgowns at her, “Not in front of the Lady” Tayra reached over to swat her for that.

“It’s alright, Mara,” Her face was aflame much like Mara’s, the implications of Tayra’s words warming her cheeks more than the blistering sun outside, “You can speak freely, I must be prepared I guess.”

“Are you nervous?” Meredyth asked softly as she placed some of her gowns gently in the trunk, “Meeting the man you’re going to marry is no easy task, it’s okay if you are” She could have smiled at that.

Despite having four sisters of her blood, the little lady Redwyne was the youngest of the bunch, and by the time she had reached her moon’s blood; her sisters had been off into the world and married to various lords of the Realm. She rarely had women to counsel her and soothe her fears, her mother no longer with them, so she was thankful for her gaggle of maids; they took care of her like they were her blood.

Meredyth was the oldest of them all, a woman well into her fifties, who had served her family since she was a young girl; she had seen every side of her and her family, travelled with them everywhere, and took care of the young girl when her Septa’s could no longer handle her. She was less a mother figure and more an aunt, her tongue loose like she wasn’t serving a lord and his family, but her openness was welcome.

Tayra and Mara were her wards in a sense, she showed them the ropes of the house; made sure they did every task to her perfection but remained youthful and fun. She’d be damned if she saw their light go out despite their position. They were like the little Redwyne’s sisters in a sense, they joked and prodded each other like so, and made sure that she was never lonely in the large house.

So, she felt comfortable joking and gossiping with them like this, her oldest friends in a sense, there to soothe her worries about the new chapters in her life.

“Truthfully?” The young woman hummed softly, looking down into her glass of juice, “I’m terrified, being away from home… It’s an ache in my chest that I can’t seem to shake” She tutted softly, taking a sip.

Her eyes were cast out the open doors of her balcony; her room faced the cliffs that overlooks the crystal clear waters of the Arbor. The air a mix of salt and the waft of florals that kicked from the fruit fields.

“I’m not sure what scares me more,” She shrugged, “Not seeing this place for a while, or the fact that I am going to get married to a man I’ve never met.”

“It’s okay to be scared, petal” Meredyth sighed softly, dropping her folding to wander and sit on the edge of her daybed, her hand reaching and squeezing her knee through her dress, “No one expects you to just be completely okay with being sent to King’s Landing.” Her lips pursed at that.

“You won’t be alone,” Mara settled down on the ground in front of the day with a gentle smile, her hand reaching out to touch her arm, “Meredyth will be with you, and your father till the wedding is over…”

“Yes, I know…” She sighed placing her glass off to a side table, “But what if we do not get along, what if he hates me?” Her eyes were wide as she stared at the two of them scared as a lamb.

It was a possibility she had rolled around her head in the many days since her father had told her she was going to be married; the prospect of marriage was something she knew would happen but just not like this. She was well over-considered ‘of age’ but she never thought it would be to a prince of the Realm, she thought as the youngest she would marry a lord of the reach and that would be it.

She remembered her father’s face as she was summoned to his study, that afternoon he broke the news to her. The way he looked both overjoyed and hesitant to talk to her; she could tell as soon as she entered the sun-washed room that whatever he had to say, was going to change her life.

“Sit, my petal,” Runce Redwyne was weathered by the years as Lord of the Arbor; his once orange hair was faded to a grey, tufts of the burning stands still visible in the sun, and his face tense and aged from years of dealing with five daughters and no sons, “We must speak.”

She didn't look like him, the man cursed with no sons had also been cursed with five daughters that looked exactly like their mother.

He hadn’t been the same since her mother passed from what she heard, the spark for life he has was snuffed out as he became quieter and more reclusive in his older years. She had only been a babe when a striking fever took her mother, but the pain of losing her still wore on her father’s face.  

“What was so urgent that you called me away from my studies, father?” She had asked so softly as she sat in one of the chairs that he used for when he held meetings, the leather soft and worn as she played with a string on the arm, “Is everything alright?”

“My petal” His smile was reserved but still there as he spoke the news like he was granting her the greatest wish of all, “I’ve just had an interesting proposition from King’s Landing…”

The rest of that afternoon was a blur, from the shock of hearing that her father had found a marriage for her, to the even greater shock of finding out it was to a Dragon Prince of the Realm no less; she was practically a husk of a woman by the time she’d left his study. The blood rushing in her ears, and the fright of change grasping at her heart like death's cold hands.

Marrying a Lord of the Reach was one task, having to learn to tame a dragon was out of her reach.

Full thing coming soon....

[neominthe]

Practicing character design with some novel's MCs. Here are my headcanons:

Cheong Myeong

Bulky and beefy body. Big arms and hands, which can't be seen as his robes are too big on him

Tanned skin as he trains in the sun a lot, but only on the hands, face and neck since they aren't covered by his Mount Hua robes

I headcanon him as short since he started exercising from an early age in unhealthy amounts, stunting his growth

Super curly hair which Cheong Myeong keeps constantly in a ponytail. At one point in time he will pull in a bun to keep it from tangling

Sharp eyes with extremely long eyelashes

Han Yoojin

I'm a sucker for gaining weight representing character is in a safe and happy place for them

His nose is like a button, a feature he shares with Yoohyun

Yoojin has curlier hair than Yoohyun, though does not care for it. As a result, it's constantly messy and tangled, adding to the 'single mother who has two jobs' look

In the novel (I can't remember which chapter) it is mentioned that Yoojin gained a bit of skin color, making him look healthier. I followed the webtoon skin color (which was like white paper) and darkened it a bit, to look healthier but still very light

Yoojin has pieces of Sung Hyunjae's wardrobe on him. The guy has a lot of money, surely he won't be missing his 100k dollar suit right? (Hyunjae allows it since it is Yoojin stealing and it kinda "marks his territory". You know, like a dog)

Park Moondae

After receiving Idol Inc' sweather, he always wears it as Moondae is too lazy to go buy his own clothes (and to save money)

He got the shoes from Seon Ahyeon, which were one size bigger than his. Moondae doesn't bother telling Ahyeon he got the wrong size, so wearing it causes blisters

Moondae has "dead fish eyes" and a small mouth, making him look like the emoji '-' Fans find it adorable, though

He got a soft jawline and a thin face, as well as a pointy nose

It's possible to determine Moondae's emotion by the glint of his eyes, but only his close friends can do it precisely

Kim Dokja

I didn't intend to make him look like a corpse, but as I kept drawing it felt more and more right for him to be that way. He was an office worker and only had one happiness: a webnovel

Dokja spends most of his time indoors, so he is very pale and lacking of vitamin D. As he became a constellation and Demon King, his complexity worsened and looked inhumane, turning grey ash

He is able to retract his wings, but not his horns. They are constantly out and a burdensome, since Dokja often forgets they are there, making him hit the doorframe several times

Dokja's hair covers a part of his face (an ode to the damn censorship Bihyung added) and is choppy because he cuts his own hair. If cared and brushed almost every day, it would be like his mom's: flowy and soft

He has long eyelashes, especially on the lower lid, and downturned eyes, which makes him look gloomy and teary-faced

I imagine Dokja having a bit of a hunchback from all the time he spends in his phone and working in a computer

Dokja also has long legs, which he keeps hidden under his tattered coat

Cale Henituse

The man has a thin and tall body, to the point he seems both elegant and fragile at the same time

Cale has light skin due to his time spent indoors or under every shade he can find whenever he has to go out

Cale's features are mostly pointy, with sharp angles and straight lines running down. His nose is upturned, has arched eyebrows and sharp eyes

The straight hair was inherited from Deruth's parents, Cale's gradparents and red obviously from Jour

[seaslugfanclub]

Kool-aid Isn’t the Only Thing I’m Thirsty For

Happy 4th of July everyone!

————————————————————————

“Y’know my great grandfather was stationed in France?”

“No shit? My nephew was deployed there.”

“Yeah— Cant remember for the life of me what division he was in, but he was sent back to the states after he blew off most of his fingers.”

“Yeesh.. Makes me mighty glad I missed out on all o’ that! hey- make sure to keep flippin’! These need to be grilled correctly.”

“Don’t tell a man how to use his own grill…”

Sykes, Rourke, and Alameda hovered over the grill, Sykes in charge of the burgers as he shot the shit with the old commander and cow wrangler, a half-smoked cigar hanging from each of their mouths and a chilled beer bottle in hand.

It had been a while since Sykes had celebrated the 4th, but he had subtly dominated the command of the grill. And Rourke was more than happy to piss away time, puffing on his cigar as he talked about old war battles with the two other men.

The sun beat down on the men, who had stationed themselves in the old lot behind the main studio building, both Rourke and Sykes had exchanged their usually stiff outfits for their old wife-beaters. While Alameda wore a simple plaid button up. An old radio played classic yacht rock, sitting atop a splintering picnic table. And a cooler filled with drinks was placed beside the grill, a few spare wasps hovering around the yellowed plastic of the cooler.

“(Y/N)!!!” Sykes hollered, Rourke and Alameda flinching at the noise,

“How're you doing with the Kool-aid!?”

(Y/n) opened the door to the backyard, calling back, “Almost done!!!”

Closing the door, (Y/n) turned towards Medusa, who was finishing mixing the disgustingly sweet drink, limp cigarette between her lips

“Hey, don’t get any cigarette ash in it!” They whined.

“Oh please, I won't! At least the ash would cut back the sugar.” Medusa muttered, sweeping back her dangling American flag earrings.

(Y/n) nodded, pulling on the hem of their denim shorts that stuck to their sweaty skin. “Cool, Imma bring out the ketchup and shit, Facilier, do you wanna join us?”

Facilier, who was draped on the counter across from Medusa, top hat off and slightly fanning himself shrugged,

“Eh, I’m not too big on burgers Chére. And I’m pretty sure drinking even a small glass of that red monstrosity will put me in an early grave.”

“You sure? I brought some illegal fireworks that we’ll be setting off later? You could do the honors of lighting them?”

Facilier paused his fanning, “…Illegal you say? What kind?”

“Oh I’ve got; Snakes, sparklers, firecrackers, M80, black cats, Roman candles, screamin’ Mimi’s, ladyfingers, fuzz buttles, snicker bombs, church burners, finger blasters, gut busters, crap flappers, whistling bungholes, spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, hoosker do’s, hoosker don’ts, cherry bombs, nipsa daisers with scooter stick, and whistling kitty chasers.” (Y/n) listed off with their fingers.

…

“….Well, I could never pass up a good ol’ Roman candle… sure. Just let me know when you bring ‘em out.”

(Y/n) laughed, nodding excitedly as they carried out all the condiments, paper plates, and napkins to the backyard, Medusa bustling beside them with the large pitcher of iced Kool-aid.

“I haven’t had a proper July 4th cookout since I was a girl! I still remember my ol’ mother and father screaming over the undercooked hot dogs… Oh, back when this country had proper domestic violence~” Medusa cooed, a nostalgic smile making her eyes squint.

The park attendant gave Medusa the side eye, brows furrowed before shaking their head, (Y/n)’s attention quickly turned towards the large men outside.

They tried not to blatantly stare at how tight Sykes beater was stretched around his chest, or how all of the men’s chest and arm hair were slicked with sweat, OR how an old anchor tattoo made itself known on Rourkes back whenever he flexed, OR OR how good Alameda looked taking a long puff his cigar.

…

“…Meat's back on the menu tonight…” (Y/n) thought to themselves, hoping that the heat could excuse their flushed face.

To break out of there thoughts, (Y/n) shouted to the group,

“Alright! Who’s ready to party!?”

———————————————————————

“What in god's name are they doing?” Hook muttered, watching through the window in morbid fascination as (Y/n) fanatically cheered on Facilier, who had begun to laugh maniacally as he shot off three Roman candles at once.

“Oh it’s that silly American holiday, today. The one where they dress up is garish clothing and raise their cholesterol.” Cruella hisses, already feeling a headache coming on. “I tell you those Americans eat like they have free healthcare..”

“Ugh, a wretched holiday for a wretched country, the traitors..” Governor Ratcliffe sneered.

“Oh, now look at that—” Hook pointed out,

From the backyard, Rourke hands (Y/n) what seems to be a small, multicolored bazooka, a wicked grin on his face as he helps them light the rocket's fuse.

Rourke ruffled their hair, stepping back a few paces to join Sykes and Slim’s side, watching proudly as (Y/n) braces and aimed the rocket towards the sky, shooting a fiery ball high up into the night air, which promptly exploded into a burning flower of sparkles. The firework joking one of many across the dark sky.

“USA! USA! USA! USA!”

…

“…I bet 30 dollars one of them is losing a finger tonight.” Clayton speaks up amongst the crowd of villains watching from inside.

“Aye, make that 50.”

————————————————————————

Just wanted to write a little blurb celebrating the 4th of July! I realized just how little American villains the Disney cannon has, and I wanted an excuse to thirst over Rourke and Sykes in old wife- beaters grilling me a burger🤤.

(ALSO DISCLAIMER!! This was merely written for fun. I love America and I love the beautiful nature it has, but I don’t love the American government.

This was not written with any political intention, only thirst for old men and Kool—aid.)