#forest fire is fucking crazy

[tojigasm]

Oh.

[rats-hyperfixation-corner]

shout out to the testament arcade ending where dizzy dies and they fucking kill johnny

[toxicanonymity]

needs

3.3k, joel miller x virgin f!reader

joel master list

Summary: Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

A/N: Follows ✨ Fires (1.6, prequel), Aches (900), and Thoughts (1.6), but can read alone.

WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap (20/50s), still only one sleeping bag, pining, c*ck hunger, fingering, grinding, masturbation, oral m receiving, cum eating, unsafe P in V, reluctantly pulling out, loss of virginity, pet names, praise, POV alternates, NO Y/N.

“God have mercy,” he mutters to himself.

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet, he tells himself . . . Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn . . .  

-------

It’s all over your face. He’s never seen anything like it, the way you crave his cock. You shamelessly stare at his pants. His whole body, really. You were bad enough before you touched it, and it’s only gotten worse. You can’t focus, you can’t listen. It’s dangerous.  He should put a stop to this, take it away cold turkey. Sleep back-to-back. But you both have needs, and he's not gonna do that.

Joel feels like he might as well be a virgin himself, it's been so long for him. Frankly, he’s dying to put it in you just as much as you long to have it.  He’s been trying to wait until Jackson so he can do it somewhere safe, somewhere a little nicer, more comfortable. 

He wants to wait and make sure it's nice and special for you, but good lord, you’re makin' it hard. You make the sweetest little sounds when he touches you, and even when he doesn’t, like in your sleep. You ask him things like, “doesn’t sex feel better than hands?” He tells you half-truths, like “not always.” Of course it would with you.  Of course it would.

-

You’re in the forest. With dusk approaching, you're just about to set up camp while there's still light. Joel is taking a leak at the edge of a small clearing, calculating mileage in his head, counting down the days ‘til you should get there. His back could use a real bed, too.  He's shaking his dick dry and a twig snaps behind him. His head whips around and he reaches for his gun. 

It’s you. God damnit, he could’ve killed you. 

“Can I see it?” you ask. 

“What the hell are ya doin’ over here?”

“I just wanna see it.” You look down toward his jeans. “Can I?” 

It’s fair that you’re curious, he knows that. You mentioned it the night before with your hand wrapped around it, I wanna see it, really see it, I bet it’s good looking. You’ve only felt it at night and caught glimpses in the moonlight. At the time, he mindlessly reassured you, you’ll see it, baby, you'll see my cock, and he should’ve known you’d spring this on him.

“Not now,” he mutters, trying to calm his heart rate.  “Can ya gimme a second, honey?” 

“Okay.”  He can hear the sadness, practically see the disappointment on your face. God damnit. He tucks himself away and zips up. You're only about eight feet away.  “Now?”

“No.  Ain’t nothin’ to see right now.” You probably don’t realize what a big difference it can make. 

“What do you mean”

“Just trust me, it’s not how you wanna see it.” 

“Why?" 

“Cause it ain’t as. . .”

“Ain’t as what?”

“Nothin’, baby. Just not the right time.”

“Better if we’re close together, right?” You step closer. 

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose, and takes a deep breath. “This ain’t the time or the place, honey.” 

When he looks at you again, your face has fallen, and you mumble, “K.” 

He puts a big, comforting hand on your shoulder and walks you back to where y'all are setting up camp. “When we find a bed, I’ll show ya. . .”  

"And when we find a bed," you repeat. Don't say it, don't say it, he prays to God you don't say it. "We can do it, right?" He doesn't answer. "You can put your cock inside me, right?"

Fuck, you're gonna drive this old man crazy. At least one of you needs your wits about you if you'll ever make it to Jackson. "We'll see," he sighs. 

After a moment of silence, your voice trembles as you ask, "We'll see? Why not yes?"

"Cause we ain't gonna make it there at this rate," he complains, then sighs with instant regret. "I'm sorry, honey. But you gotta try to knock it off with this stuff."

You swallow and your eyes glimmer. "Sorry," you whisper. 

He turns away to adjust himself, then sits down on the ground, leaning back against a log and extends an arm for you. "S'okay, c'mere."

You sit on the ground next to him. He squeezes your shoulder and changes the topic to twenty questions. 

——

He’s nicer at night. He’s nice in the day, too, mostly.  Once in a while, you can tell you’re annoying him, and you feel bad.  If only he knew how many times you thought about it and didn't say something, he’d appreciate your efforts. It’s practically all you think about. It’s even worse now that you feel it in your hand every night, but the last thing you want is for that to stop. 

You had been thinking about it all day when you finally asked what you thought was an easy request – if you could just see it, just a glimpse while he already had it out anyway. 

Even if you don’t get to see it, at least it’s easy enough to recall what it feels like.  Smooth, warm, and stiff. Soft veins, tiny wrinkles. A leaking slit. 

—--

“Can I taste it?” you ask one night with your little fist wrapped around his shaft. 

He groans quietly. “Yeah, you wanna taste it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, your hand sticky with the lube of your own slick, a bead of precum under your thumb. You smear the precum and let go of his hard cock, making it slap against his stomach.  You take your thumb into your mouth and hum, “Mmm,” at the salty taste. 

“Whatcha think,” he whispers breathily. 

“Can I have your cock in my mouth?”

“Oh, baby, ‘course ya can.” The zipper of the sleeping bag jingles, then you hear the satisfying zzz as it unzips.  He folds it down and you get up on your knees. You bend at the hip and don't waste a second. You wrap your thumb and forefinger around the base, trying and failing to make your digits touch. 

Then, your lips wrap around the head.  He inhales sharply through his teeth.

“Did I hurt you?” you ask.

“God no, honey. Go ‘head, taste it all ya want.”  

 You curiously tongue the slit and suck for more. 

“Oh god damn,” he breathes.

You lick around it under the crown and you’re salivating. 

He wraps his hand around yours and moves it up and down, then leaves you be. “Use your spit, honey.” You let it dribble out of your mouth and onto his tip and catch it in your fist. You kitten lick the shaft, tasting your own tang, and letting your saliva fall out of your mouth as it accumulates, occasionally sliding the open ring of your finger and thumb up and down but mostly forgetting because you’re so focused on it in your mouth.

“Ya like that, sweetie? ya like how we taste?” You take a couple inches into your mouth then suck a little more of it in. It twitches against your tongue. The biggest vein throbs. 

“Alright, baby,” he pants and takes it from you. He urgently pulls up his own shirt, slides his hand a few times, then comes with a groan, his voice and pulsing manhood making you ache with need, even though he already made you come. You stay there on your knees.  In the dim moonlight, you watch his tummy rise and fall with the shiny trail leading to, and pooling in, his navel. 

“Can I taste that, too?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he nods. 

You dip your tongue in the trail below his navel. It’s thicker, headier, saltier than the precum.  It’s not every day you get to taste something new. It’s not often at all. It's delicious.

“Like it,” you whisper.

“Yeah? take all ya want.” 

You lick and seal your lips as you suck it up. You pause to pluck a hair from your teeth, then continue to his navel. You dip your tongue in and his stomach flexes abruptly. You take your mouth off and pause. “Sorry,” you whisper.

“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.” 

You tongue his navel, then suck, and he inhales a chest full of air as you do it, his stomach rising into your lips. You lick up every drop. 

“Good girl,” he sighs and  cups your cheek. “Such a good girl," he sighs.

—

All day you think about it in your mouth, in your hand, resting hard against your back, between your thighs. You imagine it all over your body. Doesn’t matter if he’s pressing it up against your hip or resting it in the crook of your elbow, God, you just want to feel it somewhere. You try not to think about it inside you too much because that makes you want it so bad, you could cry. Like really cry.

It’s not a want. It's a need.  You see it happening everywhere you look. You see a tree, and you imagine him sitting on the forest floor against it, holding his cock at attention, ready for you to sit on it.  You see another tree and he’s pinning you up against it with your legs wrapped around him, jeans pulled down under his ass as he rails you. You see a patch of moss and cluster of ferns that would be a nice pillow with him on top of you.

You think about it, and you dream about it, too. You can’t help that. He starts wearing jeans to sleep, and you can’t feel the shape of him quite as well against you, but it doesn’t matter. The fact that it’s there and it’s hard is enough to drive you mad. Even after he gets you off, it's bound to come back at some point in the night. Worst case scenario, you lose sleep over it. Best case, it works its way into your dreams.

----

One night, you're moaning in your sleep again, and Joel can hardly take it. His cock is painfully stiff and the strain against his jeans makes him ache. His hips press into you on their own; he can't stop them. All he can do is take off his jeans in hopes that being free of the rigid confines will lend some relief.  He was wearing them as an extra layer between the two of you for this exact scenario, but he can no longer bear it.

On one hand, he’s taking precautions, like keeping his jeans on.  But on the other hand, in the heat of the moment, when he’s touching you, he’s taking measures to prepare you, and to see how ready you are. Lately, he scissors his fingers, inserts three to see how you take it.  “Good girl, that’s real good,  honey.” He curls them inside you, “Ohhh, baby, you’re takin’ this real good.”

God, he wants a bed for this. You deserve a fuckin' mattress at the very least. He’s gotta wait. And yet now he finds himself taking off his jeans. He carefully removes them without waking you up. He lies there with his fist around his cock for a minute, still in his boxers, doing nothing but softly squeezing, as if that’ll make it go away.  Then he resigns himself to the magnetism of your body.  He curves his form around yours again and silently sighs as the hardness in his boxers rests against you and he wraps you in a hug. He manages not to thrust against your ass, but in no time, you're pushing yourself back against him. "Joel," you mumble in your sleep. 

"God have mercy," he mutters to himself. 

He's gonna give it to ya good one day, but not yet. Not in a sleeping bag on the forest floor. Not yet. . . not yet. . . not yet, he tells himself, taking deep calming breaths. Your first time shouldn’t be like this. Shouldn’t be here. But god damn he wants to take that tight little hole.  

"Joel,” you whine and push back on him again. He can't stand it. He really can't. He has to wake you up.

He whispers, "Whatcha dreamin 'bout, sweetie?" then feels your breathing change. 

When you blink awake, your hips are slowly moving, pushing your ass back into Joel's hard cock until you stop yourself. 

"Sorry," you mumble. "Did I wake you up?" The sweet sound of your voice isn’t helping.

"Don't be sorry, baby," he murmurs into your hair. 

"I dunno how to stop it," you whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Nothin' to be sorry 'bout, baby doll." He hugs you tight. “Don’t be embarrassed.” His cock swells harder against you. He whispers in your ear, "They want each other real bad, that's all." 

"I know." 

"Have a good dream?"

You sigh. “Yeah.”

“‘bout what?”

“I dunno if you wanna hear it,” you tell him. Fair enough, he's told you to knock it off, after all. 

“Sure I do, honey. Was it you and me?”

“Yeah,” you wedge your hand between your legs. 

"You want a hand?"  

“Yeah.”

“What’d ya dream?” he asks as he reaches into your panties. "God damn," he whispers. You're soaked, swollen, and your clit is throbbing against his hand. "Poor thing." He thrusts his hardness against your ass.  "No wonder you're tryin' to get at this, huh?" 

You're quiet. 

"No wonder ya can't stop thinkin' ‘bout it." He thrusts against you again and moans softly. "What'd ya dream, baby?"

“It was. . .” you can hardly form words thinking about it. It was so vivid, so real. “We were right here, like this.” 

“Yeah?” He uses your ample moisture to lightly rub your clit. 

He begins to make peace with himself that this might happen before he wants. He hooks his fingers into your panties. “Let’s take these off for a lil bit, hmm? Let her breathe.” 

“Okay.”  You bend your knees as he pulls your soaked panties down. 

—-

"We were right here like this, in the dream?" He repeats. 

“You took it out of your pants,” you whisper. He moans softly, takes his hand away, and jostles behind you. Then you feel his naked cock against your skin. Your breath hitches and you whimper at the contact.  He returns his hand between your legs and lazily circles your clit, pressing his naked dick against you.

"Took it out like this?" He asks soft and deep.

"Yeah," 

He thrusts against you and whispers in your ear, "Then what?"

"You put it between my legs." 

He inhales sharply then wedges his cock between your thighs, shuddering as he slides it forward along your dripping seam and the head meets his fingers on your clit. 

You tilt your hips and he whispers, "Oh, baby. Like this?"

"No, you put it inside," you whisper. 

Joel's breath hitches and he twitches against your heat. You moan. He slides slowly through your folds to your clit and back. He tries to slow down and think it over, but there are no thoughts, just his stiff, aching cock and your tight little pussy begging for it.

——

“Will you do that,” you ask, looking over your shoulder but not enough to meet his eyes. 

Joel takes a deep breath. “You think I should? Don’t wanna wait for a bed?” He thrusts in small pulses. “Just a few days, baby.”

“They wanna be together real bad,” you whisper. “how they’re meant to be," you remind him.  

Joel groans at your words. “I know, baby doll.” He takes a deep breath. “How’d it feel in your dream?”

“Full, really full,” you tell him, then sigh. “Felt so big.’

“Ohh, fuck,” Joel breathes into your hair and slides his cock against you, wet and stiff.

“It was like I was hugging you with my, um,” you say, then swallow and tilt your hips. "Hugging it."

“God damn,” he sighs. He pulls his cock back, and as he slides it forward again, it catches at your entrance. You spread your thighs ever so slightly. “You sure ‘bout this,” he confirms, and uses the hand between your legs to nestle his tip just inside. You gasp. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yes, please. Joel, please,” you whine. You push back on him with a small grunt, stretching yourself open on his tip. 

“Oh god, baby,” he sighs, then he holds you still and slowly pushes himself inside with a quiet groan muffled by your hair. “Fuck, you’re–ohh, you’re tight.”  You gasp as his girth parts your walls and your body makes room for him.  “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod urgently, and he twitches inside you. 

You shiver with pleasure as he pushes further and sighs, “Oh, baby.” 

“Joel,” you whine, “its so big”

“Too big?”

“No,” you reassure him. “I want it.”

He pushes the rest of himself in until his pelvis is flush. He breathes heavily and mutters, “fuck.”

You moan and push back on him. “s’perfect,” you whine.

“you like havin’ me in here?”

“I love it,” you say. 

“As much as the dream?”

“More than the dream.”

“What happened next?” he asks

“Then you it moved like you do in my hand.”

“Yeah,” he begins to rock his hips, his thick cock dragging inside you. “Like this?”

“nnngghh–yeah,” you nod then gasp as you're filled by his length again. “ohhh,” you moan. "And then you came inside—”

He groans, then pants as he’s moving inside you, “Ohh fuck, sweetie I can’t—ohh, I can’t do that, uggghh–god damn.”

“Felt so good, like a massage”

“Ohh, baby, please don’t–”

“And warm”

“Fuck,” he breathes and covers your mouth with his free hand, bicep flexing under your neck as he does it. No way he’s gonna last with you talking like that. 

He begins to slowly move again and you whimper.  You’re right, it is like you’re hugging him. You’re so tight and wet for him, taking his cock so good. 

"Good girl," he whispers, burying his length in you every second or so, only pulling back halfway each time. 

"Such a good girl, wantin' my cock so bad." He moans. "Waitin' all this time—uggh." You push your hips back to meet his thrusts. "That's my girl, takin' me so good," his next thrust is harder and you moan. "Yeah, just like that," he breathes.  His hand teases your clit as he fucks you. You whimper and he repeats, "just like that," his voice shakier, his breath heavier on your ear, “yeah.”

You moan into his hand, and his fingers circle your clit. “C’mon, baby,” he pants. “Gonna come on my cock?” You nod and hum your agreement. “Better do it now, then, you can do it.”

You let go and your clit pulses madly, your walls clench down on him. It feels so good, your eyes well up in tears.

“Ohh, baby,” he sighs, and suddenly pulls out. He replaces his cock with two fingers that your cunt begins to hug. “Such a good girl, squeezin’ my fingers.”  

His aching arousal presses against your ass, and he humps against you as he fingers you. “Ohh, yea--ohhhh.” His cock begins to pulse, spreading a silky warmth across your skin. He moans and sighs as you finish coming on his fingers and his balls empty. 

—-

He uses a shirt of his to clean you up. As his breathing calms down, he hears you sniffling. “Hey, hey, you okay, sweetie?”

You’re fine, more than fine, but you can’t talk.

“Shit,” he mutters to himself when you don’t answer.  He peeks over your side, gently stroking your arm. “Hey, c’mere, talk to me, sweetie.”  You turn around and face him.  “You okay, honey?”

You nod and smile at him with watery eyes.

His brows knit as he finishes catching his breath.  He kisses you on the forehead and wraps you in a hug. You sniffle again and he speaks into your hair. “I know that was a big deal for you, baby.”  He pulls his head back and tilts your chin up. “It was big for me too, okay?” You nod.  He reads your eyes, then presses his lips into yours. He reads your face again, then repeats the kiss and you kiss him back. He kisses you on the forehead and holds you, stroking your head. You fall asleep holding each other face-to-face.

-----

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Thank you so much for reading and engaging! Your comments and reblogs go a long way in motivation so if you liked it plz consider saying something 🫶. There's a virgin section on my joel master list right above the one shots. Left in Lincoln is a pretty similar Joel, in terms of how he is with you sexually. For more Joel POV, the most recent raider, Night Air, has a lot.

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[ghettogirly]

Hello, is there gonna be part 2 of welcome to my world?

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 [𝟐]

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐗 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐀 ’𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐒’ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

-> click here to read: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟏

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

-> synopsis: entering Miami, the crew are now thrown into a dangerous world as a bounty is placed onto their heads. Is something blossoming between Armando and Malia?

-> theme: slow burn, action.

-> format: story

-> warning: use of n word, violence, mature language, suggestive themes.

-> authors note: you asked and you shall receive! this took me a while since it was so long. hope you enjoy! 𝟐.𝟑𝐤 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.🌸

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐: 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒.

Footprints trailed behind the four as they ran through the forest. Trees hung over them, running in between, in attempts to throw those who were following them off. A glimpse of a sunbeam peeked through the huddle of trees showcasing the time of day. It was now dawn.

Logs and branches covered the wildlife below their feet, moss and grass poked up from the soil where the sunlight touched them, allowing them to photosynthesise.

Panting, the crew located a hut at the bottom of the hill, built next to a river. At the top of the mountain, they all looked at each other, signalling what the plan was.

“Deberíamos barrer la cabaña, una persona en cada ángulo.”

Marcus turned to Armando with a confused look on his face, “Armando I don’t even know what you said but i am not following your plan. You’re too crazy for my old ass.”

Giggling, Malia turned away from group as she found Marcus comment funny. Mike shaking his head, looked towards Armando. “We all just need to go together.”

“Says who?” The male stepped forward.

“I’m not asking you, i’m telling you. We are staying together!” Mike stood up, a scowl crawling across his face at his son’s stubbornness.

“Fuck out my way.”

Grabbing on his shirt, Mike pulls Armando close to him. Grabbing him back Armando put his head closer to his father’s, a vein appearing on his head due to adrenaline pumping through them. His fight clearly activated due to the hormone being secreted from the adrenal gland. Getting in between them, Marcus put both his arms out.

“I can’t deal with this hot headed bullshit! On 3! 1, 2-“

The two pushed each other back.

“There you go!”

Walking past the two, Malia slowly glided down the hill towards the hut. Stopping at the back before peeking through one of the windows, noticing someone was there, she slowly creeped around the opposite side of the house. The three men looked behind them and noticed how she wandered off, throwing their hands up in defeat they followed behind.

A wooden deck trailed along the coast of the beach, the waves crashed against each other causing a thin layer of foam to bubble on top. The sun slowly popped from under the shoreline as the orange, dazzling rays were emitted from the giant star. The brown skinned girl was in awe of the beautiful sight that was before her, causing the melanated skin to glow in the light. She embraced the warmth of the rays as they gave her comfort: peace.

The enigma of why heat and fire brought her comfort lingered in the air. Not only making her ponder but even Armando who eyed her curiously as she basked in the tranquility of the beach. Nevertheless, he shook his head and focused on the mission before him. “Necesitamos movernos.”

Running towards the boat, Armando quickly unravelled the rope that connect the vehicle to the bank. Mike and Marcus hopped into the boat with Malia following their lead. Pushing the boat away from the bank slightly in order to start the motor, the male was just about to step on the beach until a figure appeared before him.

“I know you ain’t stealing from me!”

Looking up, a hillbilly stood in front of him.

“We ain’t stealing your shit just because we’re black!!”

All the heads turned towards Marcus who looked at him with a confused look on their face. “Escucha, tenemos que irnos.”

“Listen boy, you either need to speak English or go back to wherever you came from, you-“

Quickly tackling him, Armando dropped the caucasian male to the ground. In attempt to fight back, the man tried to grab his neck, with no avail. Quickly getting back in his feet, Armando grabbed the smaller male and threw him into the building. Causing the others to look at him with a shocked look on their faces.

“What?”

“Nothing.” They all said in unison.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑, the boat slowly sailed across the river bank. Armando controlled the steering wheel while the other three just laid down. By the time they got on the boat and started the engine, the sun started setting. Sailing for about 4 hours now, everyone was quiet as the tiredness hit.

A crackle and a pop came from below the boat. Suddenly, a flicker of light came from the motor of the boat causing smoke to then burst from under it. The controls of the boat was gone. “Controls are out.”

“We are not too far away from the beach, you think we can get there?” Mike suggested.

“How though?” Marcus asked.

The three men looked at each other and then looked towards Malia who was just there fiddling with her nails. “You guys do realise that there are oars right beneath us right?”

Slowly looking down, the men realise the flat, wooden blades that lie on the floor of the vehicle. “Así que eres útil para algo.”

“Excuse me?”

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇, the three exit the boat. Panting due to the energy needed to glide the boat against the upthrust of the waves, as the pressure of the water made it harder to move. Looking around, they observed the multi-coloured lights and the neon strobes that wrapped around the tall skyscraper buildings that was before them.

City lights were on that illuminated the dark streets with a dim light, creating a moody atmosphere within the city. Walking across the beach, the four stood before a road. “Yeah, we in Miami.” Mike confirmed.

“So what do we do now?”

“Necesitamos armas.”

“Vendôme is not too far from here, we just need to get there.”

“Aw hell nah Mike, that crazy ass lady Mila who runs that shit don’t even like me!” Marcus argued back.

“She likes me though.”

“You are a married man now with you freaky ass, christine wouldn’t like all that-“

Slapping his head, Mike cuts him off. “Nigga just shut up and let’s go!”

Jogging up the path, the neon sign illuminated from the building above. The brown skinned girl walked forward and pushed open the sleek black doors welcoming an eruption of loud rap music and people cheering.

Strolling into the building, Malia pushed through crowds with the boys trailing slowly behind her. Elevated stages and stripper poles were scattered across the nightclub with near-naked girls sliding and doing tricks on the metal structures. On the other side of the club was a bar, where a group of people were taking shots, allowing the alcoholic substance to slide down their throats.

Approaching an archway that had red, tiny pearls hanging down from it, a bodyguard put his arm out in an attempt to stop the four from entering. “Ay, we here for Mila, it’s Mike.”

The arm was then retracted and mike gave a nod of approval to the bodyguard, who led them inside the private booth. In the smaller room was about 4 girls, including Mila. She had black, sleek hair trailing down her tan skin. Her nails were painted neon orange while she wore a skimpy, neon yellow dress, promoting the theme of the club which was known for its bright colours. “Hey big daddy..”

“Nah, i ain’t that. Don’t already start Mila.” Mike jokingly warned who embraced the hug from the shorter latina woman who just walked up to hug him. The rest of the three sat down.

“So what do you need?”

“We gonna need some clothes, a car and some guns. Just something quick.”

“Okay i hear that.. but what you gonna do for me though?”

The other three looked at each other wearily before glancing back over at the two and their conversation.

“Listen-“

“Mila, he’s a married man. He can’t do nothing for you!” Marcus interjected, shaking his head.

“So, what does that got to do with me? All you gonna do is close your eyes, i’ll do the rest baby.”

A splutter is heard from within the small room.

“I mean, she ain’t wrong. You close your eyes and she can do everything else Mike.” Marcus whispered, reenacting the movements of what Mike would do in the situation.

“Mila you fucking with me bro, we don’t have anytime for your bullshit. Matter of fact, we outta here-“

Standing up the crew for ready to leave, before clicks were heard across the room. Guns were drawn as the 3 other girls that surrounded Mila stood up on the couch. Bodyguards now covered every exit while shouts were thrown towards the group.

“Y’all better sit your dumb asses down before i kill you!”

“Mila what the fuck are you doing?”

“¡Cállate la boca! Hay una recompensa de 2 millones de dólares por tu cabeza. Solo me estaba demorando, bebé.”

“You a crazy, broke ass bitch.” Malia interjected, mugging the older latina lady as she just laughed.

“Who’s going to be dead and who’s going to have 2 million dollars by the end of it? That’s what i thought.”

Before the brown skinned girl could say anything back, A group of guys entered the room. 5 black men drawn with guns swaggered in, the chains glistening from the strobe of lights as the main one approached Mike. Opening his mouth, his gold grills were shown to the group, highlighting his status.

“Bounty is dead or alive. Don’t do nothing stupid.”

Pushing Mike and Marcus along, one of the men grabbed Malia, wrapping his rough hands around the woman’s arm as he forces her to hurry up.

“Let go of her.” Armando warns, his smooth sultry tone echoing through the dark room which causes everyone to look at him. Including the man who continues to hold Malia.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“Man just let her go so we can get this money!!” One of the gang members shouted towards the male who just stared at Armando. Huffing, he let her go; not before pushing her forward to get her to continue walking.

“This nigga wants to touch me so bad, what the fuck.” Malia whispered to Armando who just laughed. “quién no lo haría?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 to respond the group was led outside towards a black van. Climbing into the van, a sudden series of gunshots was scattered towards the vehicle, killing the gang members that held them captive. Hiding behind the van, Armando quickly ran out to get one of the assault guns that was dropped by the dead member.

Jumping into the van, the four hid under the seats.

“Payday Payday! Yo Mike, i know you there with your tired ass!!”

Shaking his head, Mike sighed at the sound of the voice, recognising who it was.

“You know this guy?” Armand suggested, giving a knowing look to his father.

“Uh, i smashed his hand with a hammer a couple years back. Nothing crazy.”

Focusing back on the events going back on outside, the bigger male was still shouting. “I’m with the streets now! It’s my time!” Aiming his gun towards the van, the now identified male, Vincent starts shooting towards the vehicle.

In retaliation, Armando starts shooting back from within the van. Peeking his gun through a blind spot, spraying some of the other active criminals that were there with bullets. With precision and accuracy he successfully fired two shots that were part of vincent’s crew, his toned muscles popping out of the T-shirt he was in as he focused. Malia watched intently, now understanding the danger the surrounded the mexican male. Having a sense of danger yet cool aura to him, which honestly turned her on: slightly.

Marcus slowly crawls up to the driver seat, pressing the gas pedal, driving straight into Vincent whose eyes widen towards as he realises what’s going on. “Fuck!!”

Two more vehicles slide up, shooting Vincent’s gang in attempts to also retrieve the bounty for the bad boys. Jumping into the seat, Marcus pulls off and starts driving away, speeding down the roads in attempts to get away from the chaotic situation occurring by the nightclub.

A sudden flame rose from the cracks of the back door from the van, a molotov spraying a burst of fire around the ring of the entrance of the van.

“Don’t worry guys, the fire is on the outside!”

The cardboard boxes that were in the corner of the van was quickly lit on fire, the fire now reaching the inside. Swirling around Armando’s legs, the small flames create a hot sensation on his clothes as they slowly burn past the fibres, touching some of his receptors on his leg. Realising his legs were on fire, his eyes widened as he start yelling, patting the flames in attempts to extinguish them.

“Oh shit, now it’s on the inside!!” Marcus yelled.

Realising Armando’s current state, Malia quickly helped him out. Opening the door, she kicked the boxes out of the van. Instantaneously, a bullet shot right above the girl - just missing her as it hit off the top of the van. Back on his toes, Armando quickly wrapped his arms around Malia’s waist pulling her back and shutting the door.

“I was fine!!!” She shouted.

“No you wasn’t! Someone just fucking shot at you!”

“Guys, we need to jump out the van!!”

Quickly looking back at each other, the 2 younger ones jumped out of the back while Mike and Marcus jumped out each side. Speeding down the road, the van instantly blew up due to the overheating of the engine and the fire that surrounded it, now destroyed.

The crew looked at each other , panting as they get their breaths back.

“We need to get back to Dorn’s.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒:

“Deberíamos barrer la cabaña, una persona en cada ángulo.”: We should just sweep the hut, one person at every angle.

“Necesitamos movernos.”: We need to move.

“Escucha, tenemos que irnos.”: Listen, we need to go.

“Así que eres útil para algo.” : So you are useful for something.

“Necesitamos armas.”: We need guns.

“¡Cállate la boca! Hay una recompensa de 2 millones de dólares por tu cabeza. Solo me estaba demorando, bebé.”: Shut the fuck up! There is a 2 million dollar bounty on your head. I was just stalling baby.

“quién no lo haría”: Who wouldn’t ?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[🌸] 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @milliumizoomi @shurisgf @armandosbabymama @wizewhispers @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @deadpool15 @amplifiedmoan @5tarlan7 @thedarkworldofhananerea @sarcasticbitchsblog @dyttomori @tyneshaaa @yeahnohoneybye @believeinthefireflies95

[satellitespinner]

july 12th 1996.

“yeah, some freak went crazy and killed a bunch of kids at camp in like ‘78” dina states, her lollipop twirling about in her fingers.

“no they fuckin’ didnt dina, quit it.” ellie laughs as she presses the bottle of vodka to her lips.

you and a few of the other camp councilors were sat around a fire, passing around a bottle and telling stories before the first day of camp.

“if you tell the kids that i swear i’ll be the one to kill you.” you joke as ellie pulls you closer into her chest. she hands you the bottle and you take a long sip. “i do not need a bunch of freaked out kids who refuse to leave the cabin.”

abby laughs as she contradicts dina’s statement. “i’m pretty sure if some freak really did kill a bunch of kids here, we wouldn’t be here.”

dina crosses her legs and rolls her eyes. “you guys are really no fun.”

jesse leans in beside her sneakily trying to get a taste of her very sanitary sucker. too bad she notices before he can get his hands, lips on it.

“hey! knock it off.” she looks at him with disgust.

“see we’re lots of fun, D” abby laughs as dina shifts uncomfortably away from her boyfriend.

“as if you guys haven’t swapped spit a thousand times. so dramatic” you comment on dina’s reaction when you hear a twig snap in the distance. you gasp and sit up at the sound.

“hah! so you do believe it!” dina points.

“bitch, just because i jumped at a sound doesn’t mean i believe in some fake horror story about kids getting murdered here. plus, it’s not like we’re supposed to be doing this.” you defend yourself as your cheeks burn out of embarrassment.

“aw it’s okay that you’re scared, i’ll be here to protect you, baby” ellie gives you a sloppy kiss on your already hot cheek.

“yeah right, ellie, your lanky ass couldn’t take down a killer if you tried.” jesse buts in. out of spite ellie replies quickly.

“shut it, dweeb. can’t you see i’m tryna get some?” she jokes. everyone laughs.

“oh fuck off. you’re not getting shit!” you plaster a fake offended look on your face and sit up. she places a hand over her heart.

she reaches forward with grabby hands “nooo baby im soo sorry” you laugh as abby scoffs.

“you two need to get a room! seriously” she fake gags while sticking two fingers in her mouth.

“oh we will” you send a wink abby’s way and ellie laughs as she pulls you back into her lap. she starts stroking your hair as the rest of the group start imitating you two.

“oh ellie!”

“fuck me ugh”

“ellieeeeeuhhhhh”

ellie’s face heats up bright red at the sounds, that where somehow extremely accurate. “okay. this shits whack.” she states, looking away from the group to hide her now pink freckles.

another branch snap.

“what the fuck was that?” ellie jokes as she slightly shakes you. you look around frantically before you shut ur eyes.

“you guys are so fucked.” you say before peeling your blanket off of your legs and getting up.

“i need to piss.” you roll your eyes and zip up your sweater before walking away. “do you want me to come with?” ellie shouts, you wave your wand as you look back.

“i’ll be fine!”

you zip up your jean shorts and leave the outhouse as quick as possible. the dark making it impossible for you to see where you were going.

should’ve brought a flashlight.

as you’re walking through the woods you hear footsteps in the leaves. your head darts in all directions.

“ellie?” you call out. for some reason you follow the sound, fully convinced it’s one of your friends pranking you.

“i swear to god, you guys.” you say as you carefully maneuver through the forest. the deeper you go the more sounds you hear.

“you guys aren’t fucking funny.” you nervous laugh as you step over a branch. you follow the sounds until the come to an abrupt halt. the fuck?

“hello? who’s out there?” your voice going up an octave. now you were fucking scared. you turn around to look when you feel a cold hand on your shoulder. you scream at the sudden presence. quickly turning back around and shoving whoever it was.

“you’re not fucking funny!” you say blindly. before realizing it was infact, not one of your friends. the figure didn’t say anything, but the space between you and them gave you time to book it. or so you thought.

as soon as your first foot left the ground they slipped their own underneath it, tripping you.

“fuck!” you yell from the ground. the masked person flipped you over and raised their knife clad arm, quickly bringing it down. they were quick but luckily you were quicker. you rolled left and the knife only grazed your stomach. it left a wound but you could manage.

you lifted yourself into your knee, the only thoughts going through your head were to fucking

RUN.

“help!” you screamed as you stumbled through the woods. you ran for enough time that you could eventually see all of your friends, their eyes all looking your way, puzzled expressions adorned their faces.

“there’s someone!” you scream, as you stumble again. your stomach blood now dripping down your shorts and onto your bare legs.

as you came into sight ellie was the first to stand up. the blood now very evident. “holy fuck.” she whispered as you got closer.

“he’s there! i fucking- i saw him!” you pant as you reach the group, ellie immediately taking you into her arms. you turn around and realize that the masked perp was now gone.

“i fucking swear.” ellie looks you up and down, your shaken and frankly bloody form. everyone’s eyes widen.

“this shit is fucking real.” abby’s says, looking around at everyone else.

“dina was fucking right.”

[motimatcha]

"nostromo"

PART 5. Survivor for the Nostromo.

parts: one | two | three | four | five

dbd Xenomorph (alien) x fem!reader. smute: unprotected sex; vaginal sex; tongue fucking (cunnilingus); sperm inside; tongue in mouth; size difference; a large amount of sperm; bloating; sex with a monster.

The familiar crackle of the fire filled the space, but for the first time, you bet you could feel its phantom warmth. Perhaps you were warmed by the thought that you would still be able to meet the xenomorph. But asking yourself the question “why do I need this?”, you did not dare to give a clear answer. Because this could be the beginning of the end for you and for you to accept those brewing feelings for a humanoid creature.

Is it possible to joke that his courtship has borne fruit? Or is it the time spent together? The answer to this question could only be given by you yourself, and since you decided to go into the forest to search for an offering that could lead you to the xenomorph, the answer was more than obvious.

The moon was your only companion on this thorny path . Decorated with millions of stars in the dark sky, she looked blankly at your futile attempts and searches in the forest. During all this time, you happened to find several abandoned lanterns of good quality, collect herbs for good luck, a first aid kit, even a high-quality key to the hatch was in your pocket. On any other day, you would have been happy about such a large number of valuable and rare items, as well as improvements to them, but the situation was different and you were looking for offerings for certain territories.

One got the feeling that they exchanged rarity with the items or that the Entity, in mockery, took them away altogether. What did you do with the xenomorph? This couldn’t help but anger you, but gritting your teeth and wrapping yourself in a jacket so that the biting branches of bushes and low trees wouldn’t hit your hands so hard, you continued your search.

He who seeks will find, as your grandmother said, and therefore you did not stop at the achieved result.

The first location found for your offerings was the Loray Memorial Institute, followed by Springwood, Gideon Meat Processing Plant. Apparently the Entity decided to take pity on you, but not too much, and give out offerings in the reverse order of your stay in its world and during the trials. If everything goes on like this, then you won’t be able to get the offering you need in a century.

Exhausted, you sit down on the grass, damp due to fog and dew, and then lie down. In silence, far from the fire and the hubbub of people, you feel calmer than ever. So what if you are a black crow among black crows? You should be proud of yourself, no less; survive the hunt, aka courtship, of a xenomorph , and then be under the protection of the same creature from David, on top of everything else, a successful conversation with GhostFace... it’s time for you to become a living legend of this small world, so as not to go completely crazy. But the idea is not so bad. It will be possible to tell other survivors about this while you are all... while you are imprisoned here for all eternity.

Deep in thought, you don't notice Ellen's silent approach. The woman, concerned about your disappearance, even though she believed in your strength, and the forest shrouded in white fog itself was safe for survivors, but she still decided to check on you. What if you had a nervous breakdown and need the support of a loved one? Ripley , in any case, tried to think that you were close people to each other.

There may be a family not related by blood.

“Are you okay?” a calm and quiet voice pulls you out of your slumber. Louise sits down on the ground next to you, you can feel her familiar warmth and smell, this time mixed with swamp mud. Apparently she was lucky enough to be tested in a rotten swamp, although it also took place at the AutoHaven landfill. “You look inspired, albeit tired.”

“Um, I was looking for an offering,” you answer vaguely before turning from your back to your side towards the woman. So you looked even more like a family, strange, but a family: a mother and daughter, wise in life, in love with a monster. The plot is suitable for a film adaptation of one of the versions of “Beauty and the Beast,” except that the rating will be much higher than that of a regular cartoon, filled with blood and corpses. “So far the search has been unsuccessful.”

The brunette was silent for about a minute. Either she couldn’t find anything to say, or she knew, but had no idea how to do it. Finally, with a sigh, she continued the conversation:

“Do you want to meet him?” and you both didn’t need to clarify with whom exactly. Your nightmare, at the same time an object of interest, haunted you in your sleep and in reality, and with the departure of the xenomorph from the usual tests, this need only became stronger. And thoughts, dark and vicious, visited your dreams much more often than they should have.

And it was time to give answers to my own questions. Is it possible to joke that his courtship has borne fruit? Or is it the time spent together?

“Yes. Really want to.”

The ex-officer does not grin amusedly, but does not express any negativity or disgust towards your choice . You may still regret your choice, but the choice is entirely yours. Everyone must develop their own skills in order to make new decisions based on their experience. Ellen, as a caring person, can only support your aspirations and give advice, but not insist.

“As you said, “after courtship, you must prove your strength by resisting the xenomorph’s attacks , and then you yourself will find your way to him. If you want,” Ripley laughs with you and nibbles grass from the clearing. She pulls out one particularly long spikelet and presses it between her lips, thereby reminding you of a cowboy from the wild west. “It seems your words were prophetic.”

“Yes, I can see it myself,” the woman grumbles demonstratively and waves her hands in the air, and then rummages in her pockets. “Take it. Found it on the way.”

What was in your hands made you sit up abruptly and look in disbelief at the hand holding the offering. The "sluice doors" leading to the xenomorph's territory are in your hands.

“You can take all the things I found while scouring the forest if you give me this offering.”

“I was going to give it to you anyway, I still don’t understand how they work.”

“Thank you thank you thank you…”

You stood up from your seat and, as if under hypnosis, headed towards the general fire, before the voice of the former Nostromo officer brought you out of a kind of trance.

“To the edge of the fog,” was all the woman said before disappearing behind the trees.

You nodded gratefully.

As you moved towards the edge of the safe zone reserved for the survivors and separating those from the killers, the white fog began to rapidly thicken. Was this another test from the Entity? Maybe a test of your determination to see things through? Will you retreat at risk or will you still meet with the one you have been afraid of for so long? Shaking your head, dismissing the thoughts imposed on you that nothing would work out, you moved on.

Soon, a white fog enveloped every part of the space, making it impossible to go further. Somehow subconsciously you realized that this place is the line, the transition between the recreation area and the test, and it is here that you need to use the offering, otherwise the insidious entity will return you back to the fire.

You picked up a green polygon with doors drawn there and threw it into the fog. It, inexplicably fluttering and gurgling, began to become denser, and you were drawn to sleep.

Before you fall into oblivion, you think. How could you talk to Ripley if she was on trial and how did she know where to go?

A brutal industrial interstellar cargo ship where human life takes a back seat to brutal efficiency. Death lurks around every corner of its labyrinthine decks. From Ripley's well of memories, a dark and hopeless realm turns into a terrifying nightmare.

That's what you once thought, but finding yourself at the crash site of the Nostromo, with no generators or grappling hooks, surrounded by control points without turrets, you felt safer than ever.

You hesitantly step forward, hoping to meet the xenomorph, but as you search and spend time walking around the entire map, you realize that it is not here. But this is not so. Otherwise, why would the Entity fulfill your whim and allow you to step into the territory of the fallen spaceship? One can, of course, assume that your the captor just likes to watch how your face is distorted in despair that the stranger has been excluded from the kingdom of essence, and maybe everything is not as simple as it seems at first glance.

You approach the nearest control point. The strange thought “can a person go down there?” takes on new colors when the underground tunnels of the alien remain the only place that you have not yet explored. Exhaling, you turn your back to the entrance and slowly crawl through the narrow hole in the ground. The familiar mucus covers your body from head to toe, and now it becomes clear to you why the alien himself is constantly shiny and so sticky.

The dungeon, made of a material unknown to you, flavored with mucus, greeted you with gloomy silence and rare rays of light penetrating through the tunnels from the control points. You could almost stand up completely, the passages themselves were so wide, but it is worth noting that you still had to bend your head a little so as not to crash into something incomprehensible. And then you had to get down on all fours, because otherwise walking on two legs on the sticky floor threatened you with collapsing on it, and then suffocating in the mucus. Shameful death. Following your plan, you decided to go around the tunnels first along the edge and only then inspect the center, believing that this way you will increase your chances of meeting a xenomorph.

But here you are inspecting every passage at the border, then slowly crawling towards the center because of all the mucus stuck to your body, and the one you are looking for is still not there. There were no tears when you leaned against one of the walls and sat down with your legs bent towards you. The heavy realization that the xenomorph has been removed from the realm of essence falls on your shoulders. A heavy lump rises in your throat when the first plaintive sob escapes your lips. This was, at least, unfair, but the natural outcome for violating the rules of the world of the Entity and the corresponding punishment - for the life of one survivor, the killer pays with his own.

“Apparently, it’s time to leave,” you thought and directed your gaze to the exit to the control center ahead of you. You had just managed to lift your butt off the floor when suddenly there was a sound of a passage opening and a xenomorph descended, gracefully and naturally . “Is he really...”

The stranger you were looking for underground was himself looking for a violator of his peace on earth, sensibly believing that none of the survivors would think of descending into his kingdom. To see you here - covered in the mucus of an underground tunnel, tearful, but seemingly happy - was beyond all his expectations. His precious couple, who reciprocated his advances in marriage, themselves came and descended on him, honoring him with great honor.

The creature from distant space froze in place before taking a step towards you, then another, and now he was already at your feet. Seeing a xenomorph so close, knowing that it would not harm you, was surprising and amazing. Adrenaline hit the blood, and the heart began to beat so fast, attracting the attention of the predator. The alien made a sound similar to a purr, at least you could interpret it that way, before burying his smooth head into your chest. The strangers' hearing was a little weaker than that of a human, but even so, leaning close to your body, practically pressing you into the soft surface of the walls, the creature could hear the beating of your heart.

You knew that once you came and descended here, the xenomorph would not let you go. Remember Ripley said that the humanoid wants to create a new colony with you and you, being a vicious child of the Internet who knows about rule thirty-four, hoped that creating a colony implied a method common among people. Just the thought of what a monster’s penis might be like and how it penetrates inside you already excites your nature: there is a pleasant tug in the lower abdomen, it becomes wet from the approaching vaginal lubrication, and you want to see with your own eyes, feel for yourself everything that can give you xenomorph.

The latter seemed to sense the excitement hanging in the air . He hissed, but not threateningly, as it had always been before, but low and gutturally, so that his knees began to tremble. The alien took two steps back, allowing you to take a more comfortable sitting position, and just when you thought that everything would happen right here, the xenomorph suddenly shook his head negatively and waved into one of the corridors. You had no choice but to follow him.

He led you to one of the far corridors of the tunnel, where you had already been, but you did not properly examine the seemingly identical walls at first glance. And apparently in vain, because they lost sight of one of the secret passages leading somewhere deep down, where the temperature only rose, but not so much that it became unbearable for you. Clothes soaked in mucus clung to your body, outlining the curves of your body, giving the xenomorph an excellent view not only of your juicy ass covered in the fabric of your pants , but also of your breasts with hard nipples, and your long neck, so thin and inviting to leave its mark there. The stranger does not need imagination at all, his instincts and the growing desire to possess your body, heart and soul - all of you - did their dark work. The humanoid creature paused before smoothly descending, standing on its hind legs and extending its large palms towards you, lowering your half-size body down.

Based on generally accepted human standards, you could describe this place as a bedroom, making allowances for the non-human appearance of your future or current lover. The floor under your feet, which was a kind of flesh, was warm, soft and slimy, making it impossible for you to walk on your feet with shoes on. Perhaps, if you had the same sharp claws as a xenomorph, allowing it to cling to any surface, it would be much easier for you, but for now, overcoming the fear of the unknown, you take off your shoes. Your feet touch the soft floor, slightly springy and sagging under your weight, but overall the feeling was not disgusting.

You, drenched from head to toe in the secretions of a strange cave, feel more relaxed than ever.

The xenomorph hisses, attracting your attention and pulls the sleeve of your sweater towards him, pushing you to sit in a small recess in the bedroom. Can this thing be described as a bed? Maybe yes.

Surprisingly neat and gentle movements contrast so much with the wild nature of the stranger that it becomes almost funny. A light half-smile adorns your lips when the creature, picking up the hem of your T-shirt under your jacket, tries to pull it off of you over your head. As soon as you do this, it seems as if it becomes easier to breathe, but inside everything is tugging and burning with impatience. The mucus, which no longer seems so disgusting to you, envelops and warms the body, allows you to relax as much as possible, and now you forget about any pain in the body that tormented you due to both the uncomfortable posture while moving and the for a long walk on the surface. All fear has receded, relaxing and preparing your mind.

The stranger’s attempt to take off your pants was unsuccessful, just like yours, because the fingers covered with a layer of mucus simply could not grab the slippery button. For the first time, the sharp tail of a xenomorph was so close to your body, not in an attempt to kill, piercing through your body, but to get rid of a wardrobe item.

“However,” you think, looking at the sharp tip of the alien’s tail, “I wouldn’t mind trying games with a knife.”

You decide this for later, when the degree of your mutual trust moves to a new level. The xenomorph , kneeling in front of you, hisses and purrs contentedly. You slowly, a little fearfully, spread your legs to the sides, giving him a view of your womb, the pink folds of which are covered with your own juices and mucus. The xenomorph is dripping with saliva from his mouth when your hand reaches down along his stomach, covers his pubis with your palm, and thin fingers spread the natural barrier to your entrance to the sides - another narrow hole shrinks around the void, calling on the alien to fill it with himself. You thought that this creature had no mouth, that it was replaced by that extending thing with fangs, and for a second you even doubted the correctness of your decision when the alien opened its mouth, but instead of seeing the usual second mouth moving forward, it touched your womb something cold, thin and just as slimy.

The xenomorph has a tongue. Long, with a green tip that turns black the closer it gets to the throat. The xenomorph's tongue became thicker somewhere in the middle, you could compare its thickness to your three fingers, and there were also ribbed protrusions along the entire body.

It was hard to believe that it would be inside you, and you were counting only on light caresses, but the alien was determined to prove you wrong. Even if he himself had no idea about the course of your thoughts.

The actions of this snake tongue can be described as “chaotic” rather than “planned” or “purposeful,” but it is worth giving credit for its efforts. The sharp contrast of the coldness of the tongue and the warmth of the room excited your nerves brought to the peak, causing his every movement to tremble in your body. Here the xenomorph caresses your clitoris, tense with excitement, and you are ready to burst into ecstasy at any second, and a second later it teases your entrance to the vagina, penetrating inside with just the tip, and a disappointed groan already escapes your lips. All you can do is rush around the floor in the hope that the absolute weapon will stop playing with you, or mocking you, to be honest, and will fill your needy body, if not with its penis, then at least with its tongue.

Perhaps your prayers have been answered.

As soon as you open your mouth to tell the creature exactly how to move in order to bring you the maximum amount of pleasure, it puts its tail across your stomach, and its paws with razor-sharp claws touch your thighs, spreading them even further to the side. It knocks the air out of your lungs, but as soon as his cold tongue slides inside, stars flash before your eyes. It’s so unusual, strange, but pleasant to feel inside, from this feeling of gradual fullness as the xenomorph slowly and carefully pushes its tongue inside your womb. His movements are rhythmic and slow, first a little forward, then almost completely withdrawing from you, touching the sensitive clitoris with his growths along the tongue. Oh, that wonderful feeling of friction and pressure, pulling moans from your lips. Your hands are rushing around, not knowing where to place yourself . Maybe grab a stranger’s tail, counting the vertebrae with your fingers, or play with nipples swollen from excitement? Well, you have two hands to do both.

As soon as you touch the tail, slightly touch a sensitive point of the alien body, the xenomorph begins to squeal, pushes its tongue into you a little sharper and deeper than originally planned, as you arch your back, but most importantly, your lover’s tongue arches after you, touching and pressing on the very point that brings you a lot of pleasure . Your loud moan, the echo of which reaches your ears, in which you can hear the frantic beating of your heart, marks the arrival of your first orgasm.

The alien had to do so little to get you to your peak that it's almost astounding. Will you then be able to normally perceive caresses from a person or will you become addicted to the feeling of buzz and euphoria from the alien language, and then the penis?

With one hand you cover your tightly closed eyelids. You try to catch your breath, but it’s all in vain, because the overexcited and full of energy xenomorph is ready to continue giving you affection and pleasure. After all, you are his couple, who reciprocated. The tongue inside you rubs and curves, getting thicker and thinner and always touching your swollen clitoris so that you don't have to worry about having a second orgasm. The movements become faster and more chaotic, as if the alien is trying different methods and approaches on you to find what gives you the most pleasure. And when you are ready to reach the peak of orgasm for the second time, the xenomorph allows you to do this too, smearing the wide part of his tongue along your scarlet bundle of nerves.

This time it just rings in horror, and black dots flash before your eyes in place of the stars.

The xenomorph steps back. His slippery tongue comes out of your womb. And such a sound is heard, vulgar as in porn, but damn exciting. It’s as if a plug was pulled out of you and all that mucus that came inside along with your tongue began to flow out of your body.

Having barely caught your breath and found the strength to open your eyes, you look down to where the xenomorph is located. But he soon reached forward, placing his huge paws on either side of your chest. You were wondering if someone else has a penis, right?

There, pushing the groin shields to the sides, it appeared. Something that will divide your world into before and after.

Big, long. The tip of the xenomorph's penis was slightly elongated and thin, becoming thicker just below, and tapered again at the creature's hips. Its color was identical to the tongue - green at first, gradually turning black - and had growths, two of which ran along the upper part of the penis and one below. You could assume that the maximum length of these protrusions does not exceed half a centimeter, but this will be enough to give you an unforgettable experience.

A clear viscous liquid dripped from the tip of the penis, not the same as the mucus that envelops your bodies and you remembered the word pre-cum . Apparently this is typical even for xenomorphs .

“I want to touch,” became your first thought, and you listened to your desire. The stranger, showing you the highest degree of trust, allowed you to touch his most sensitive part of the body without any obstacles. And he hissed in surprise as soon as your hot hand touched the alluring flesh. "Marvelous".

The penis in my hand felt pleasantly heavy. It was slightly warmer than the alien creature's tongue; either the humanoid was simply excited until the body overheated, or its organ itself should be warm. In addition, it itself was soft to the touch, but hard, no matter how paradoxical it may sound. Mucus began to accumulate between your fingers as you ran up and down the ribbed shaft. Soft, pleasant, slippery. And it will end up inside your body.

Being under the influence of hypnosis due to the fascination with the xenomorph’s penis, you yourself, without knowing it, bring him to his first orgasm in his life. The alien life form does not know what it means to hold back, applying a similar concept to you for the first time, so as not to simply break the bones in your body, but otherwise gives its all. White streaks of sperm spread across your chest and stomach, slowly flowing down. You pick up one track with the tips of two fingers, spread them to the side, noting how thick and viscous the sperm of the creature from outer space is, that between the fingers spread in different directions, a string of sperm remains hanging between them.

It tastes... strange. It’s as if there is no taste at all.

The xenomorph groans . His nervous, twitching movements of his pelvis back and forth lead you to the idea that he himself wants to fill you with himself as soon as possible, and not only with his penis. You yourself have to raise your body to align yourself with the length of the penis and place the tip at the entrance to your body . My mouth was dry from anticipation. The creature's strong tail grabs you at the waist, sharply lifts you a little more, which is why you have to grab onto the powerful shoulders of your lover, in particular, reach for the tubes protruding from the back, in order to keep yourself in place. The legs can barely be locked behind the xenomorph's back, so you rest against the area above its tail.

Unusual pressure and stretching constrains your body . Despite the preliminary preparation, a copious amount of lubricant such as saliva, mucus and your own secretions, this is not enough to fully prepare yourself for the meeting with this monstrous penis . Only the head has penetrated, and it already seems to you that there is nowhere else to go . But at the same time, you want it to enter you completely, to divide you into two parts, to destroy your pussy, declaring its sole rights to your body and pleasure. Therefore, the xenomorph slowly moved further, penetrating you deeper and deeper with its monstrously large penis, exerting pleasant pressure with its size. The lumpy growths only complemented this wonderful sensation, pressing on the most sensitive points inside your body, and rubbing against your clitoris along with the thick penis. From pleasure, your mouth opened by itself, and pleasant moans, along with unintelligible babble, caressed the stranger’s ears. He was happy to feel that his partner was getting as much pleasure as he did from the feeling of how tightly the vaginal walls fit around his penis . How they tremble every time he plunges deeper into the supple body. He might think that he is intoxicated by this sensation and now he will certainly not let you go from his grip, he will fill you with his sperm, even if you cannot get pregnant in the realm of the Essence. He didn't care at all as long as it meant he could have you in every sense of the word.

The xenomorph stopped moving as his cock entered you fully, tearing through your sensitive walls, overloading your nervous system with the signals it sent. It was hot, cold, hot, everything throbbed and burned, but the vicious desire to become a victim of an alien creature, to be completely fucked and filled with his seed, overpowered any feeling of fear. But you were afraid to move, reasonably fearing that the feeling of pleasure would disappear. The alien decided to act first; slowly, his pelvis began to move away from you, creating many trails of mucus connecting your bodies. You wanted to tell him to stop, not to deprive you of this wonderful feeling of fullness, when he succumbed back forward, a jerk of the entrance turned around, crashing into your fragile human body with all his bestial power.

For long seconds you lost touch with reality, and when you returned, the feeling of lust, pleasant bliss and excitement that spread throughout your body, capturing every part of your body and soul, dispelled all doubts. You loved the xenomorph, his monstrous cock in particular adored you just like he did. The thrusts became smoother each time as your body and womb got used to the size of the alien creature, adjusting and stretching to suit its needs. And when there was no resistance left between you, when the xenomorph could freely penetrate you, desecrating your flesh with his nature, the angle of entry of his penis into you changed, as did the speed. The creature from another world had strength and endurance incomprehensible to the human mind, so it was not difficult for him to rise with your body on his hind legs and sharply lower him onto his penis, touching with the tip of his penis such places that you could not even think about.

It was nice. It's terribly pleasant. The vulgar sounds - your moans, his animal hands, as well as the slapping of your bodies against each other and the squelching sounds coming from the entry of his penis into your womb - only spurred the arousal of the two of you. The xenomorph opened his mouth, releasing his tongue, which immediately entered your mouth. The feeling of movement, both in your mouth and inside, completely severed your connection with reality and there was nothing left except the pleasure you received.

The pace of the thrusts gradually changed, becoming faster and sharper with each passing second. At the edge of your consciousness, you understood that the xenomorph was about to cum and his sperm would paint the walls of your vagina white. I wonder if there will be enough of it for your tummy to become bulging, if even now, by touching the designated part of the body, you could feel its ribbed penis under your fingers? Most likely, yes, but the excitement to check was as strong as your excitement.

After a few thrusts, the xenomorph released his cum into your body. You felt his cock throb as load after load of cum shot into your body. And there was really, really a lot of it. So much so that, despite still having his cock inside you, acting as a plug, white streaks of his seed were already running down the inside of your thighs and large white drops fell onto the slimy surface of the floor. The alien's long tongue licked the tip of your nose before being hidden in the creature's mouth. It, carefully supporting you in the air, sank back onto the warm floor and laid you under it.

It was clear as day that the xenomorph had no intention of leaving your body just yet. At least until he satisfies his hidden desire to impregnate you.

a little about this work.

Initially I planned to write only one part, the fifth, but I thought that without a pre-story it would not be so interesting.

It took me a day to write. in total there were 32 pages in Word, font Times New Roman, size 14.

I was thinking about attaching files with the Russian and English versions, but Tumler does not have this option. In any case, I don’t know about this.

At the moment, I finished making the last changes at 4:33 am on May 1st, whereas I started at 11 am on April 30th.

[loaksbitch]

just imagine jake sully kneeling and begging to make you feel good, eat you out while he got you leaning on his shoulder :( — i live for this man, he’s such sweet boy.

warnings – jake kneeling in front of you needs his own warning ok? begging, cunnilingus, rough kissing, jake using “my girl” as a thing, him asking for your needs, mini hint of edging, eye contact while going down on you… enjoy babies!

— wc — 1.6k !! like + reblogs are super appreciated

“tell me what you want.” — jake sully (⨳)

your back was pressed against the tree, gut twisting with excitement as you feel your mate nudges your nose, standing in front of you,

“tell me what you want.” his raspy voice sips in your ear and you almost moan. the pad of his fingers ghosting your skin, creating an electrical feeling. you’re about to lose it.

you’re unable to process his words, not until he was leaning to kiss your slightly open mouth. “you’ll do what i want?” you ask, breath escalating and airy with desire that you can’t pinpoint. you suddenly feel him humming and leaning to give the corner of your mouth a kitten lick.

jake watches you flutter your eyes shut, biting your plump lip to stop yourself from moaning loud, leaning against the tree he had you pressed to.

the man in front of you speaks, “i’ll do whatever you want me to.” he breathes against your cheekbone, “just tell me what you want.” he runs his large palm on your waist. you’re both in the forest, vulnerable and exposed to anything.

the simple thought of being easily caught excites you, it is as if someone would literally spot you both anytime. “what if someone comes here?” there’s a hesitation in your tone and your man chuckles, “then we’ll entertain them.”

he sounded serious, no, scratch that, he is serious.

this wasn’t the first time jake asked to please you, you have had him begging you to ride him and choke him. you want to remember the feeling of dominance after a while and so jake asking you to tell him what you want him to do to you was a literal gate for your desire to be fulfilled.

“tell me,” you feel him pressing his lower abdomen on you, his restrained bulge poking your side.

he was literally begging, does he want to please you that bad? gladly.

“get on your knees.”

jake maintained eye contact when he dropped on his knees, kneeling in front of you and taking your figure with lust hooded eyes. no question asked, he waited for another demand from you. and you, on other hand you now finally understood why your filthy submission always drove him crazy.

you’re so exquisite when standing in front of him and ordering him like he was a fucking kinky pet.

“take of my loincloth.” you spit and jake slowly brings his hand up, fingers gently hooking and starts to untie the rope from your hips and tail. his touch was like a fire on your skin, full of love and warmth and lust.

he slid them down your legs, his eyes staring at your pretty and flawless skin, but they came to halt when they landed at your bare sex exposed to him. jake was shameless when he licked his lips, making his desire shown.

you’re not stupid enough to not get a hint and you had to do something about it.

“you want to taste me?” you ask him and watch his eyes latch from your pussy and lock with yours before huffing. “baby,” he says, “it’s not about what i want.” your breath hitches at the choice of homs words but you want him to admit before you fail to keep yourself strong.

“that’s not what i asked.” your stern voice does something to him. “do you want to taste me?” you repeat yourself and watch jake’s ear flatten against his ear.

“yes.” he whispers.

on eywa you swore you almost came right there, especially with the sight of your man whimpering to have a taste of you. you push down the nervousness and slid your two fingers down to your slick folds.

jake doesn’t even bother to blink when he sees your slim fingers part your own folds and massage your clit. his dick painfully throbbed when he hears you sigh softly and flick your fingers side to side on your clit.

you let a quiet whimper out when you pull your damp fingers back and bring them to jake’s mouth.

he doesn’t even need you to say it once because he was now opening his lips and inviting you. jake rolls his pink, flat tongue out that was longer than you always draw in your mind. you push your fingers to his mouth and he closed his lips, eyes closing and breathing with his nose when he sucked with despair.

you gasp when he moans against your finger, the vibration tingling up to your arm and whole body. he was more than throbbing, precum was probably leaking out of his tip by now but jake was too pressed in pleasing you right now.

you blink and mewl, silently wanting him to give your pussy the same attention he was giving your fingers.

jake was now leaving your fingers with a slight ‘pop’ and looking up at you. he had licked your finger clean, now desperate for your heat. your mate came closer, leaning to your pulsing sex but you’re fast enough to tug on his braided hair and make him look up at you.

you had him with his head tilted up and questioning you why you just stopped him.

“i never said you can do that yet.” you say and jake dares to whine. “let me make you feel good, princess.” your walls tighten just with his words, he was going to kill you with those desperate amber eyes.

jake leans to your tummy, resting his head on you and whimpering. “please?” he begs, ears twitching when you run your fingers on them. it was as if he was in pain and the only healing was you. the hand that was tracing on his ears fist on is braids and jake moans at the feeling before you’re pulling him to your jewel.

you screwed your eyes shut when he wrapped his lips on your throbbing clit and sucked ever so gently, swirling his tongue over your bud and grazing his sharp teeth on it. he leans back, pretty much annoyed when you keep closing your legs. “i need you to open your legs, can you do that fr’me?” he breathes and you knit your brows.

you nod and do what you’re told and jake gets back to his torture. minutes don’t pass when you’re bucking your hips which you almost fell if it wasn’t for his tight grip on your hips.

he groans and pulls back, his chin glistening with your wetness before he was swinging your left leg on his shoulder. “hold on tight.” jake says before dipping his head into your soaked cunt. “jake,” you softly moan at the feeling of his hot tongue.

you don’t know what to hold until the man kneeling down and pleasing you was sliding his left hand up and lacing his fingers with your small ones. he doesn’t miss how your body curves when he grinds his nose on your sensitive nub, tongue pushing past your folds and fucking you.

he was making you see stars, the whole place was glowing in your eyes.

you’re rhythmically pulsing in his mouth and jake sighs through his nose. his finger lacing with yours squeezes your hand on his, telling you he got you and will hold you through your orgasm.

“jake, i love you.” you moan and feel him quicken with his tongue. you’re so close that he can feel it, it was as if he was chasing for your release more than you are trying to.

he holds you close, loving how you rock your hips against his face and using him like a toy. your slightly rough tugs on his hair driving him insane, you only needed one push to let go and so you did.

jake groans satisfied, lapping on your arousal and getting you clean. your eyes slightly widened when he got on his feet fast and before you could process what’s wrong with him, he took your mouth in his, his teeth clamoring together when he made you taste yourself in his tongue.

your body shudders when his tongue glides over the roof of your mouth and you moan, knees buckling. jake chuckles into the kiss, holding you by your waist. “you’re gonna fall on me?” he broke the kiss, gently nudging your nose with his and taking your addicting scent through his nose.

“let me make you feel good too.” you ignore him, your hands trailing down before cupping on his fully grown bugle, jake was quick though, wrapping his large hand on your wrist and shaking his head. “today is about you, my girl.” he says and your heart flutters.

a smile cripples to your lips, before you’re tiptoeing and pulling him to you for a kiss. jake laughs slightly surprised and kisses you back. “c’mon let’s get you dressed and get home, hm?” you lean back from the kiss, slowly nodding.

“alright, let me dress you.” he says, bending down to fetch your loincloth. “i love you, princess.” you bite your lips, watching his swipe his arm over his mouth and chin to clean his face and grab on your cloth to dress you. “i love you too.” you murmur.

this was supposed to be written like… a week ago but guess which bitch decided to write now and share it to you? definitely not me 😵‍💫 — like + reblogs are super appreciated!

you better had enjoyed my whore thots y’all — i love each and every one of you! mwah <3

[cas-skz]

SWEET REVENGE

Hyunjin x Fem!reader

| non-idol au | cheating, revenge & smut | 18+! |

After catching your roommate sneaking around fucking your brother, you seek revenge by sleeping with her boyfriend. Even after you moved out of the dorm, Hyunjin and you can’t keep off each other.

18+!!! MDNI!! plz&thnx

WRITERS NOTE: straight up brain rot cause y’all ate up the last Hyunjin fic 🫡

Enjoy!!! xx cas

“Stop fucking squirming, it’s me.” Hyunjin chuckled as his hand tightened around your mouth. You nearly screamed your lungs out when he crawled into your bed. His body hovered over yours, eyeing your half naked body. When you glanced at the clock it said 9:45PM, realizing you had passed out after work.

“I missed you.” He smirked, lowering himself and inching closer to your lips. His eyes locked with yours as his hand quickly slid from your neck to the back of your head. “Did you miss daddy?”

You couldn’t help but revert into little mode. An effect Hyunjin had on you since the moment you first kissed. Even if that kiss was wrong.

“Of course I missed you daddy. I was so lonely without you.” Your fingers ran gently along his bicep, down his body and finally to his belt, pulling his pelvis into yours. “So needy for you.”

He was your poison. The lust you had for him felt like a forest fire out of control.

Hyunjin spread your legs with his knee, pushing himself even closer. You could feel his erection begging for escape and it only drove you more crazy for him. Your fingers creeped to his belt buckle, slowly pulling it open before starting on the buttons and zipper. “Daddy, are you going to make me wait?” You taunted, biting at his bottom lip.

His lips crashed into yours, fighting for dominance as you acted out to gain his reaction. “You keep being bad and I’ll make sure you suffer.” Hyunjin mumbled against your lips. He placed a few more deep kisses before moving his lips to your neck, biting and sucking on your skin.

You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation on your skin, the feeling of his teeth sinking in, the purple marks he was leaving so people knew you were his. It all made you swoon.

He was never like this with her. Your ex roommate who had crossed you both by sleeping with your brother while dating Hyunjin. Little did you know revenge would be so addicting.

You reached your hand into his boxers, stoking his hard-on slowly while running your thumb along his leaking tip. His groans were music to your ears, sending tingles through out your body. “Daddy?”

Hyunjin lifted himself to look at you, “What is it kitten?” He asked, tilting his head slightly.

You couldn’t help the small smirk that took over your lips as you slowly pulled your hand back up to your mouth, “I want to undress you Daddy.” You said softly, looking into his eyes as you sucked the pre-cum from your thumb.

Hyunjin quickly pushed off the bed at your request, pulling you up after him. He watched closely as you slowly slid your hand up his shirt, caressing his firm abs and chest before pulling it off. You leaned up to gently kiss his lips before trailing them down his body as your lowered yourself to your knees.

With your eyes on his, you slowly tugged down his pants and boxers, moving them aside as you ran your hands along his thighs. “So handsome, all over.” You hummed, wrapping your hand around his length. You gave it a few strokes before starting to suck on his bright red tip, salivating as his salty fluid tingled your tongue.

Hyunjin’s hands pulled your hair from your face as he watched you start to bob your head, his soft moans started to fill the room. You watched as his eyes fluttered shut and his head fell back slightly. You hummed happily as you let his hands guide you, gagging the slightest bit as he blocked your airway with his massive cock. He loved having his way with your mouth.

It didn’t take long for him to release his load, the warmth flowed down your throat and coated your tongue.

Hyunjin’s eyes shot back down at you as you wiped the sides of your mouth, his hands moved to cup your face as his cock finished throbbing inside your mouth. “What a good slut you are.” Hyunjin smirked, gently slapping one of your cheeks. “Now take your pj’s off.”

You slipped your shorts off as you stood up, stepping out of them as you leaned against the bed. You quickly tossed off the black lace bralette that remained, “Are you glad I got my own place now?” You asked, tilting your head to one side as you ran your hand over your pierced nipples. “Or do you miss fucking me right before she gets to the dorm?”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. It only took a handful of times of her walking in on the two of you for her to get the point, but Hyunjin brought out a side of you that even you didn’t know you had.

Hyunjin licked his lips as he closed in on you, “I think you just like people watching me fuck you.” His hand ran slowly up your side, sending tingles throughout your body. He lifted you on to the edge of the bed as his hand started to move up your inter thigh. “When did you become such a little slut?”

You grabbed Hyunjin by the back of his neck and pulled him into a rough kiss, hungrily twirling your tongue with his. “As soon as you started fucking me.” You said gasping. Your hand started to reach for his cock, but Hyunjin’s hand snapped around your wrist and he quickly grabbed you, slamming you onto the bed face down.

Without warning he shoved his cock deep in your entrance, bottoming out and holding himself flat against your body. His hand tangled in your hair to pull your head back, his lips found yours for a sloppy kiss. “Tell me what you are.”

Your hands gripped onto the bedsheets as you whined into Hyunjin’s lips, “Dad-dy’s little slut.” You mumbled, wiggling yourself under him as your walls clenched his hard cock. You couldn’t help how wet you had become and just having him inside you made you want to cum.

Hyunjin’s hand snaked under your body to find your clit to rub, his hips started rocking the slightest bit. “Say it properly.” He growled in your ear.

“I’m daddy’s little slut.” You moaned.

No one had ever fucked you like this before. It was sex so good it made your head spin. You could feel every inch of him filling you up, every bit of his body pressed against yours making you more aroused. His fingers working quickly against your clit drove you crazy, edging you closer to orgasm.

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Hyunjin ordered as his hips started to pick up speed, your walls contracted with every thrust. He knew how to make you cum and you know what would happen if you let it happen without permission.

All your focus was on trying not to cum. Your legs started to tremble as you edged closer. “Please daddy…Please I need to cum.” You cried out, biting hard on your lip as he refused to give up.

“No.” Hyunjin said sternly. He stood up quickly, using one hand to keep you pinned and pulling the one from underneath to firmly slap your ass.

You winced at the burning sensation but a loud moan escaped your lips. His hand slapped down again and again and again until both your cheeks were a bright red. “Daddy…” You moaned weakly as you started to lose control of yourself. “Please…”

“No.”

The warm liquid from your orgasm started to run down your legs before you could get another word in. You shoved your face into the sheets as your body shook violently, tears started to flow down your cheeks as you sobbed softly.

Hyunjin’s hand slowly ran along your back as you regained yourself. He maneuvered your weak body until you were sitting face to face with hun, your legs draped over his. “Kitten.” Hyunjin whispered, holding your face up with both hands as his lips gently pressed into yours.

“Kitten..” He said again.

Your eyes opened the slightest bit to meet his, a soft smile spread across his lips before he kissed you again. A few more tears fell as you held onto him, “I’m so sorry daddy.” You said weakly.

Hyunjin ran the tip of his cock between your folds before pulling you onto his lap and sliding his cock back inside.

Your body instinctively started to move, but Hyunjin held you still. “Look at me,” he whispered.

You finally regained enough strength to hold your own head up, “holy fuck…” You laughed, running a hand through your hair as a after shock shiver ran down your spine. You kissed his lips a few times before finally catching his gaze.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly as his hands slowly started to move your hips. The feeling of his cock deep inside you again felt euphoric. His question caught you off guard though.

You and Hyunjin had only been hooking up for a few weeks, but lately he’d been stopping in more and snap chatting you a lot. You didn’t think anything of it until his question made your heart skip a beat.

“Yeah…sorry, just..” You trailed off in thought. The persona you had put on was slowly crumbling down and you felt like yourself for the first time in a while. “That was so amazing.”

Your eyes moved between his eyes and lips as you felt your walls start to throb around him again. Hyunjin ran a hand through his sweaty hair, slicking it back as he slowly leaned you down on your back. He kissed you deeply as his hips started to thrust slowly, his lips moved to your neck again, “Can I stay the night?”

You moaned a soft “Yes” as your eyes rolled back with pleasure. He took his time fucking you, just keeping slow and deep pace. It made your stomach do flips. You lifted your legs and wrapped them around his body, you pulled his lips back to yours. “You’re gonna make me cum again.”

Hyunjin smiled into the kiss as you edged closer, his hand ran along the outside of your thigh. You could hear his cock slapping into your wet pussy, the muffled moans between sloppy kisses. You didn’t even realize you had started to cum.

Your head fell back as waves of bliss hit, you started to shake again as his thrusted got faster. “Can I cum inside you babe?” Hyunjin whispered in your ear.

You felt tingles throughout your body. Aside from kitten, he only ever called you by your name and that had become rare these days.

You nodded to him before pulling him into another kiss. You had been on birth control for years, but had never actually said yes to the question before. It was the first time Hyunjin had asked, and in the moment it just felt right.

The two of you couldn’t keep your lips off each other. There was such an intense and passionate rush coursing through your body when you hit your peak. Your walls tightened around his cock as your head fell back again, “Fuck Hyunjin.” You moaned, wrapping your arms and legs around him as his thrusts got faster.

Hyunjin tucked his head into your neck, each thrust slamming deeply into you. “I love when you say my name.” His moans turned into grunts as his movements slowed, he cursed your name in your ear as his cock released its load deep inside.

His lips crashed back into yours as his cock throbbed deep inside you, sending a warm sensation into your tummy. You hummed happily against his lips, “Thank you daddy.”

“I think I liked Hyunjin more.” He chuckled, pecking your lips once more before pulling out and sitting up. He spread your legs apart, admiring the white sperm that flowed from your entrance. He leaned over to your side table and grabbed some tissue to clean you up.

He settled into the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms. He places kisses on your temple as you sighed happily and snuggled into him. “I could get used to this.” You mumbled. Hyunjin nodded as he placed his head on top of yours. “Me too kitten. Me too.”

[roosterr]

firewatch | day 04

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john price x gn!reader wc; 4.6k summary; maybe you shouldn't complain about having nothing to do, or some idiot tourists will change that

haha yeah it's been three months, whoopsie. started hating writing for a while there, but i'm better now lol. pls enjoy, this series is a labour of love 💕

you severely underestimated how fucking tedious this would be.

honestly, you thought you could handle it. all you have to do is look out the window, take note of the weather every now and then, fuck around for the rest of the day, then rinse and repeat for a few months – and you're getting paid, to top it all off.

sounds easy enough.

you look outside, no smoke. you check the weather, it's sunny. two hours later, no smoke and not a cloud in the sky. six hours later, still no smoke, and, would you believe it, it's still clear blue skies and suddenly three days have gone by and somehow you're going stir crazy in the middle of a beautiful state park where most people would go to cure their cabin fever.

it's one thing to be left completely alone with your thoughts for months and months on end, but when you're so adamant about avoiding said thoughts, it turns out there really isn't much else to do.

john was right then, you suppose. people only ever take this job if there's something wrong with them.

well, you weren't completely alone. you take a sip of your tea, lukewarm by now, and turn your eyes to the radio next to you. john isn't bad company, truthfully he's probably the only reason you haven't gone completely insane yet. it makes you wonder how he possibly does this every year, with no other–

"fuckin' hell, is that fireworks?"

john's sudden exclamation startles you mid-sip of your tea, a fit of coughs wracking your body when you accidentally inhale some. you're about to scold him for scaring the shit out of you, but his voice comes through the radio again before you can start.

"out your west window, have a look." he grumbles, low and irritated.

you twist your neck to look, wiping the remnants of your tea from your face with one hand as the other puts the mug down on your desk. your eyes narrow at the sight of the colourful sparks and smoke in the air. "shit, i see them. that's super illegal, right?"

"illegal, and just flat out stupid." john replies, the frustration in his voice rumbling even deeper than usual. "you're gonna need to get down there and stop 'em."

"is…" you blink as another firework explodes above the treeline, "...is that really my job?"

you hear him huff on the other end. "your job is whatever i say it is, rookie. no rangers nearby to call, it's just you'n me out 'ere."

"great." you mumble dryly, casting a mournful glance at the half empty mug of tea sitting on your desk. "so, what do i do? kick their asses?"

"if ya like," john replies in a chuckle, "just make sure they won't come back, and confiscate the fireworks."

"aye aye, captain." you raise your hand in a mock salute entirely for your own amusement, and though he doesn't respond, you hear the click of his radio and an intake of breath as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. you shake off his odd reaction and turn away to look over your fire finder at the various trails and paths. "so… how do i get down to the lake?"

"the trail north of your tower should take you." he says, prompting you to pull out your own map and quickly make a note of the trail he mentioned. it looked straightforward enough, a slightly meandering path through the forest leading to the clearing around the lake. "there's a shale slide along the way, so grab some rope. should be in one of your boxes."

your gaze finds said boxes exactly where you'd left them on the floor beside your desk, partially unpacked but still mostly untouched. you sigh and get on your knees, cursing your previous laziness as you rummage through them one by one. it's a mess of random supplies; a few boxes of matches, a candle or three, an old lamp that looks like something a coal miner would use, even a few rat traps that you keep a mental note of for future reference.

"got it." you announce, only a minute or two of searching later, standing again as you hook one of the clips onto your belt loop and let the rope coil hang there. "so you know this park pretty well, huh?"

john hums in agreement, and in the background you hear something that sounds like the door opening and closing, and then the buzz of the wind under his words. "this area, yeah. been doin' this quite a few years now. plus, i'm the one who drops off supplies at your tower."

"oh, so that's your handwriting on the boxes?" you grin, looking back at the boxes that still lay strewn across your floor as you grab your light bag and head out of your own tower. "maybe you should work on that. shit's barely legible."

"i'll make a note." he chuckles, and the conversation between you paired with the lovely scenery as you descend the stairs almost lets you forget about the reason you're going out in the first place.

unfortunately, your reprieve is interrupted by the echo of another firework in the distance, louder now that you're outside. the colourful sparks are still half visible over the treetops against the late afternoon sky, and you frown at the display.

you find the trail to the lake fairly easily, and cast a glance over at john's tower before it's blocked by the trees, just as yet another bang scares the birds.

you scoff as you watch them fly away, narrowing your eyes at the faint traces of smoke still visible in the sky. "can you hear those from over there?"

"just about." john answers, an amused kind of suspicion is his voice. "why?"

"oh, no reason. but if you happen to hear any screaming, do me a favour and ignore it." you try to disguise the grin in your voice, but you can't help the laugh that slips out when your heart john's rumbling chuckle through the radio.

"i'll tell the police it must've been the foxes."

another airy laugh escapes you at his words. john does seem to have a way of improving your mood, even when it had been decidedly soured by the morons threatening to set the forest alight. and, honestly, it’s difficult to stay annoyed when you’re surrounded by shafts of golden afternoon sun breaking through the canopy of leaves, and the soft rustling of the breeze through the branches. 

the forest feels almost dream-like in this light.

you’d mostly stuck to the southern trails on the handful of walks you’ve taken over the last couple days, taking to avoiding the lake since john told you it was somewhat of a tourist hotspot. it’ll be nice to see a new area of the park, you think, even if you’re only going there to yell at some people.

a twig snaps ahead, just off the path in the underbrush to your right, and you pause.

a dear trots into the patch of sunlight that falls through the trees to the centre of the worn trail, and it pauses too. you stare at it, and it’s deep black eye stares right back. it’s beautiful, you can just about think to yourself, your awe keeping you frozen in place.

and then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it’s gone.

"woah." you murmur, still gazing at where it disappeared into the trees. a smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you click the button on your radio again. "a huge deer just crossed the path in front of me."

a moment passes before john answers, a hint of a teasing laugh on his breath. "they do live out here, love."

you click your tongue, rolling your eyes to yourself as you step over a branch to begin walking again. "alright smartass, some of us don't spend ninety percent of our lives in the middle of the woods."

"i'd say it's more like sixty." he chuckles in response, wiping the faux annoyance from your face with ease. "what did it's antlers look like?"

you quirk an eyebrow and cast a look back over your shoulder at the trees where the deer had gone, but the point of his question still flies over your head. "uh, normal?"

another rumbling chuckle comes through the static before john adds, "which way did they point?"

"oh…" you hum, sidestepping a leafy shrub growing over the path as you think. "to the sides? like, outwards, I guess?"

"probably an elk then, not a deer."

you smile, somewhat impressed, but you're not exactly surprised. for whatever reason, john does seem like the type to know that kind of thing. "that's actually pretty cool. how’d you know that?"

"the informative poster provided by the park, which i understand is in both of our towers." he replies, a sense of smug amusement lifting his voice, which earns another eye roll from you that he'll never see.

"right, right. i definitely read that…" you mutter, which earns you a lighthearted scoff from john.

"did you at least read the one about the poisonous plants ‘round here?" he adds, and you grimace stepping over a ditch in the trail because, well, you know you should've, but there's only your own laziness to blame for ignoring it.

you clear your throat, stifling your grin as you answer in a decidedly unconvincing tone, "...yes–"

"christ alive…"

"–but, just to be safe, i'm not gonna touch any plants, so i don't have to worry." you continue – and as if on cue, a tall nettle waves in the breeze into your path, and you're only narrowly able to dodge it before it can brush your skin. you tut at the plant, like it can understand you, and it almost feels as if the park itself wanted to prove you wrong.

you'll keep that close call to yourself, you decide. what john doesn't know can't hurt him, right?

"i'm gettin' grey hairs talkin' to you." john mutters, and you can so clearly picture the disappointed shake of his head that no doubt accompanied his reply.

"you don't already have grey hairs?" you tease, unable to stop the laugh that comes through your words.

"oi, i'm not that old!"

"i know, i know," you chuckle, "but you do sound like a guy who's smoked a pack a day for twenty years."

"more of a cigar man, myself." he pauses, and you can hear the wind pick up in the background when he doesn't take his finger off the button. "not a habit you can keep up out here though, unfortunately."

"you could if you wanted, then we'd both have a fire to watch." you reply, your smile easy now, like you're talking to an old friend rather than someone you met three days ago.

"you're full of good ideas, aren't ya?"

the conversation dies down again after that, a comfortable atmosphere replacing it. the sun has gotten slightly lower in the sky since you'd started walking, and while it wasn't getting dark yet, it would be soon. wandering around the forest at night was possibly the last thing you wanted to be doing, so you'd better hurry this up.

thankfully you're not walking for much longer before you come to a break in the trees. the trodden path you'd been following gives way to the rocky ground, and just ahead you can see the sudden drop off that you assume must be what you're looking for.

you come to a stop at the edge, and gaze down at the steep descent in front of you.

"hey, i found the slope." you announce, clicking the talk-lock button on your radio so your hands are free to start unfurling the rope. your eyes drift to the slope despite how hard you try to keep them on what your hands are doing, and a spark of anxiety shoots through you as you look over it. "am i really going down this?"

"unless you wanna take the long way."

"i don't… but that's gotta be, like, a fifteen foot drop." you grimace at the sharp stones making up the ground below, your hands twirling the rope nervously between them. suddenly you weren't feeling so confident about this.

"that steep?" he sounds surprised when he asks, maybe even slightly concerned. "s'been a while since i've gone that way, must've had a landslide at some point…"

you seriously would've preferred he kept that thought to himself, because now there's an undeniable feeling, right at the forefront of your mind, that this was not going to end well for you.

"landslide. right." you murmur flatly. "that doesn't fill me with optimism."

if john's at all worried about this like you are, he does a fantastic job of hiding it. his voice is unshakably confident when he responds, "you'll be fine, just make sure your clips are tightened."

you sigh, hesitant to continue, but proceed to tie one end of the rope and loop it into the clip on the anchor point just before the drop off – a sturdy looking rock that you sincerely hope isn't going anywhere – and internally you debate over just cutting your losses and turning back, but considering how high the fire risk is right now, there's no way your conscience will let you delay getting to the lake.

you sigh, giving the rope an experimental tug to make sure it really is secure, which it does appear to be, before throwing the rest of it down the slope.

you really don't want to do this, but unfortunately, you really have to.

"alright, i'm going down. if i die it's your fault." you grumble, hearing a muffled chuckle from john as you take the rope firmly in both hands and tread backwards over the edge of the slope.

you only get two steps from the top before you hear the rope creak. the sound brings the taste of bile to the back of your throat, but you do your best to swallow it down. it's probably an old rope, a weird noise doesn't mean anything – it's the same as the noises your tower makes, right? old things creak, that's just what they do. no need to panic.

it's not like you have much of a choice. you're already suspended by it, and there's no turning back now. your palms start to sweat.

"don't do that." you scold the twine under your breath, willing the inanimate object to hear you. "don't make weird noises."

one more step and the rope creaks again, much louder this time and significantly more worrying. it sends a cold bolt of panic up your spine that you don't get to react to before you hear the unmistakable sound of fibres snapping. "wait– no no no no–!"

you vaguely hear john call your name, but it's muffled by your cut off shout as the rope snaps in half and sends you free-falling down the slope.

time seems to slow as you watch the rest of your rope get further away, your wide eyes meeting the vast blue of the sky above with only one thought on your mind.

this is gonna hurt.

a heavy thud reverberates through your skull when you hit the ground. hard. the impact knocks the air from your lungs and forces a strained whine from your lips. jagged stones dig into your skin through your clothes, only adding to the pain already radiating from your upper back.

john calls your name again, his voice a little more frantic this time, you note through the pain fogging your mind. "sitrep– uh, talk to me, what's happened?"

"ugh, shit…" another groan leaves your chest as you push yourself up onto your elbows, attempting to blink away the dark spots that float in your vision. "my fucking rope snapped. fell down the slope…"

"shit." he hisses. "you broken?"

"what? no," you mutter through a deep intake of breath, finally gathering the strength to sit up fully with a hand attempting to soothe the ache between your shoulders, but it doesn't do much to help. "my back just really fuckin' hurts…"

"right…" he murmurs, letting the silence hang between you for a moment too long before continuing. "the rope snapped?"

"yeah… made some fucked up noises and then broke clean in two." you send a withering glare to the other end of your rope, still hanging tauntingly from the top of the slope with a distinct air of mockery you didn't know an inanimate object could be capable of giving off.

standing requires a lot more energy than you currently have in you, but the distant sound of a firework reminds you again why you're even out here – so with a laboured grunt, you push yourself upright through the sharp ache in your back and brace yourself on your knees as your vision spins.

you hear john sigh absently over the wind on his end. "i'm sorry, this is my fault. i should'a checked the supplies 'fore i dropped 'em off at ya tower, i would'a noticed–"

"john, hey, it's fine, okay?" you interrupt his rambling before he can get too far into his own head, and frown to yourself. "but i'm not getting back to my tower that way…"

"there's– there's another path back, from the lake." his voice is quieter than usual, and he stumbles over his words – something so incredibly unlike him, it has you on edge from such a small change.

you hum, looking back up at the other end of your rope with a disdainful sigh as you brush the rest of the gravel from your pants. "as long as there's no more abseiling, i think that'll work."

john doesn't say anything more, which has you concerned, but you decide not to push it. he's clearly cut up about what happened, even if you don't completely get why, and you get the impression that moving on from the subject would be best for both of you.

the way the small valley is shaped leads you easily to the continuation of the trail, and before long the rocky ground gives way again to softer forest floor. you find yourself in another larger clearing, open enough that you can see ahead where the path disappears between more rocks and overgrown shrubbery. the lake must be nearby now, you think, because the distant sound of voices reaches your ears periodically on the wind.

the radio silence from john lingers in the air, heavy and stifling despite the great distance between you. the solitude leaves you with your thoughts, wondering why he was acting so responsible for something so beyond both of your control, and though you've resolved to leave the topic alone, you really can't seem to stop thinking about it.

another bang of a firework echoes around the clearing and you regret complaining about the tedium of the last few days. this was not what you wanted.

you drag your aching body across the rest of the clearing and brush a low-hanging branch out of your way as you make your way through the overgrowth between you and the lake. a clunking sound catches your attention, and you turn your gaze downwards to an empty beer can, followed by another further down path, then a few more, and a few more.

"holy shit, what is wrong with these people…" you mutter through gritted teeth, crouching down to gather as many as you can into your bag as you go – with only a short grumble at the pain it causes your back.

with a deeply exasperated sigh, you sling your bag back over your shoulder just as you come to the end of the trail and the bushes give way to the clearing of the lake. there's a small, raised island in the centre, where you can see the group lounging by the water with their music turned all the way up.

god, could these people get any more obnoxious?

you take a second to steel yourself, because this was not going to be easy, before cupping your hands around your mouth and shouting, "hey!"

they ignore you. of course they do.

"hey!" you yell louder this time, and thankfully they acknowledge you by finally turning off their music and glaring at you from their perch. you're probably supposed to handle situations like this with decorum, but as a result of the last hour or so your patience has worn incredibly thin, and you really can't find it in you to care. "fireworks? really? are you guys completely fucking stupid?"

they scoff and look incredulously between each other, before who you assume to be the ringleader yells back, "what the hell is your problem?"

"yeah, it's a free country!" one of the others adds.

"that's not how that works…" you sigh to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose and willing yourself to keep at least some modicum of composure. "you kids better get the fuck outta here! right now!"

they scoff again, and pointedly turn away from you. good god, the urge to throw rocks at them was getting harder and harder to fight.

"ignore them, it's just some random fucking loser creeping on teenagers…" the ringleaders comment is only just audible from where you're standing, but you do hear it, and it only serves to fuel your temper.

"what? no, i'm–" you falter for a split second, debating the consequences of the lie you're about to tell, but the side of you that just wants these idiots out of your life wins over fairly easily. "i'm a park ranger! and if you don't leave now, i can guarantee the cops are gonna be waiting for you when you do!"

a beat of silences passes, before they begin to mutter amongst themselves.

"oh shit… are they for real?"

"i don't care dude, i can't get arrested again, my parents would kill me!"

"let's just get outta here, this is freaking me out…"

you fold your arms tightly over your chest and watch them scuttle to gather their things with a scowl. they collectively send you one last withering look, which you readily mirror, before they wade back into the lake and swim across to the bank on your left.

"fucking finally…" your gaze follows them until they weave between the trees and you can no longer see them. with a tired sigh, you bring up your radio and move to check where they disappeared to as you update john. "hey, they're gone."

there's a moment before john replies, sounding not quite as downtrodden as he was earlier, which you take as a good sign. "yeah? how'd it go?"

"i hope they drown." you grumble in response.

he laughs, genuine and deep, and you feel your lingering annoyance melting away with the sound. "let's hope they won't come back."

"are you…" you clear your throat, weaving your way between trees and bushes. "are you okay? about earlier, i mean?"

"yeah, i'm– i'm fine." john answers quickly, and you get the strong feeling that he's deflecting when he continues, "let's just get you back to your tower, eh?".

"and far away from these fucking tourists…" you mutter, which earns you another light chuckle from him. just the memory of them has you cringing as you brush through a few bushes. "completely unrelated question, but would i get in trouble if i, hypothetically, lied about being a park ranger?"

"hypothetically, i reckon we could keep that between me and you."

a small grin finds its way onto your face, just as you reach where you assume those kids had been camping. there's more empty cans scattered by the worn dirt track, which you gather up with a string of curses under your breath.

following the trail of litter as you round the trees, the first thing that meets your eyes is the remains of their campfire, still smouldering and glowing orange in the evening shadows.

"idiots lit a campfire, too." you seethe, sharply kicking dirt over the embers until you're sure it's out. "the fire risk is colour-coded for assholes like them, and somehow it still went over their heads…"

john sighs. "don't think too much about it. knobheads like that wouldn't get it if it smacked 'em in the face."

"who knows? maybe one of these days i will." you're only half joking, but the smile must come across in your voice because john's rumbling chuckle follows again.

"right, and when they ask 'how on earth d'you get fired from a job where all you do is sit on your arse all day', what're you gonna tell 'em?"

"that i beat up some dumb kids and saved the park from being burnt to a crisp?" you grin, starting in the direction you vaguely remember another trail ending, but a glint of light catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

you crouch down, and forgotten behind the bush is a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey. nice.

you slip it into your bag and call it the service charge.

"i think the coppers'll be more concerned with the first bit." john quips. you laugh through the twinge of pain as you stand again, and hope he doesn't notice.

"that's their problem. i'll be the people's hero." you say, earning a other deep chuckle that grows a light feeling in your chest. you get a few more strides up the path before coming across a trail sign with a spoke for fire lookout seven, and tell john, "hey, i found the sign for my tower, so i'm heading that way."

"good. that way's a bit more of a hike, but it's shorter, so you should be home in time for dinner." 

"perfect. can't wait to get back to my room temperature tea." you reply, with a trace of sarcasm that you're sure is only just noticeable.

john breathes a short chuckle, before his voice turns slightly more serious. "how's your back, anyway?"

"fucking hurts, but i'll get over it." you answer, and the moment silence that follows has you wishing you'd just said fine. it had slipped your mind how odd john was being about your fall, and though you want to find out why, you get the impression that questioning him about it wouldn't get you anywhere.

he clears his throat uncomfortably. "...sorry, again. it was my fault you fell."

you frown in concern when he apologises, again, and do your best to ease his mind. "don't worry about it, alright? i didn't even fall that far, i was already, like, halfway down."

he doesn't have to know that was a lie.

"still, it shouldn't've happened in the first place." he replies, still sounding rather pitiful despite your efforts.

"i'm being dramatic. it's really fine, john." you try to keep your words light, to convey that you really don't blame him, and he shouldn't either, but he simply hums in response.

"if you say so."

"well, y'know how you can make it up to me?" you let another smile creep into your voice when another idea comes to you.

"how's that?" he takes the bait, some form of amusement present rather than the cynicism from before.

"you can tell me some of your war stories," you can sense his hesitation through the radio, but you press further with a more lighthearted tone, "the cool shit, like how mission impossible is based on your life or whatever."

"well, i'm no tom cruise, but i was at the piccadilly bombin', back in twenty-nineteen." john replies, a hint of smugness behind his words that you don't even register through the shock that stops you in your tracks.

"holy shit, what?"

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Burning Wood

Marc Spector x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Marc gets a boner.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: One day I'll have to answer for my sins.

Warnings: blow job in a forest, Marc calling reader 'baby', getting a boner in public and being a little into it, swearing, typos - my head is really not in the game atm, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1831

Marc pressed his cold nose into your neck as he hugged you from behind. You shiver, instinctively flinching away from his touch and he giggles. 

He presses his nose against you again. 

“Marc,” you chastise, but there’s humour in your voice.

“What?” He grins, obviously knowing exactly what he’s doing. 

“How is your nose so freezing?”

“How is your neck so warm?” 

You chuckle and sigh, putting your hands over his arms. You both stare at the bonfire for a moment longer. 

“I don’t get how you can be cold standing next to this thing,” you motion your hands to the flames. 

Marc jogs on the spot a little, just to amuse you. “It’s cold, let’s stand closer.” 

You laugh. “We’ll be in the fire.”

“Hmmm,” he nuzzles into your neck again and kisses your skin lightly. “Nice and toasty.” 

So far, Marc had enjoyed visiting your family, even if they did live in the middle of nowhere. He thought he was going to go a little stir crazy at first, playfully making shinning jibes, but then he’d kind of… got used to it. The stillness. The forest walks. The tiny village with the population of 62. 

A few kids ran around with sparklers under the watchful gaze of their parents, several people held out marshmallows need the flames. There was warm mead and hot chocolate if anyone wanted it. 

Marc sighed, resting his chin on your shoulder for a second before he muttered, “my hands are cold too.” 

“Marc,” you laugh, “you’re wearing gloves.” 

“I know.”

“Well, you’re not putting them on me.”

“But you’re so warm.” He teases, tensing his arms as if he’s going to move and try to sneak under your shirt. 

“Fuck off.” You grin and grab hold of his hands to stop them going anywhere.

“That’s not nice,” he pouts playfully. “I’m going to freeze to death and you're not going to help me?” 

“You are not, besides, I thought Chicago got pretty cold? Shouldn’t you be used to this?” You tease. 

He grumbles something into your shoulder.

“What?” 

“I said, Chicago isn’t damp cold. Here’s damp cold. Gets into everything.” 

You snort. “Aww, poor baby.” 

“Yeah,” he nods and kisses your cheek. “Poor me, where’s the sympathy for me?” 

You can hear the grin in his voice, he always loved playing up because it made you laugh. Though he seemed a little extra needy right now. Not normally the one for physical affection in public. Maybe the darkness of the night helped.

The bonfire snaps a little, still going strong and you pat Marc’s hair with your gloved hand as you lean back against him. 

He sighs, pressing his face into your shoulder as you brush against the semi-hard outline of cock. 

You pause. Ah. So that was why he was being so handsy. 

“Ohhhhh,” you whisper, dragging out the word to be a menace and lean back again a little to press against his bulge. “I see, hugging me so that you can use me as a shield for prying eyes are you?”

“No.” He says into your shoulder, his voice obscured by your coat. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay, well I’ll just-” You go to move but his arms tighten around you.

“Stay here.” 

You giggle. 

He lifts his head up and kisses your cheek again. “I did not hug you to use you as a shield,” he tries to sound stern but the smile in his voice wins out. “I came to hug you and…”

“And?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“And then this happened.” 

“From a hug?” You say disbelievingly. 

“Hmm,” he grumbles.”You smell nice.” 

You laugh, “I smell like burning wood.” 

“Yeah, well, that and your natural smell,” he nuzzles into your neck again and breathes deeply. “Smells really good. Smells like… comfort, or something.” 

Despite the sweet tone to his words, you can’t resist a tease. “And that made you horny?”

He tuts and rolls his eyes, giving you a little squeeze. “Yes, okay, it made me really horny. Happy?” 

You pause and then nod, “yes.” You say with a touch too much enthusiasm and Marc laughs. 

“Okay, well good to have your approval.” 

You smile and lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest. There’s a pause before you push back a little more, rubbing against his erection again. 

He stifles a moan into your coat. “Stop it.” He hisses, but you can tell he doesn’t mean it. 

“Stop what?” You say innocently. 

“You know what.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Marc.” You punctuate the end of the sentence by gently leaning back and rolling your hips against him. 

He groans softly and presses into you. You hear the click in his throat as he swallows. “Do you want me to come in my jeans? Because that’s what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.” He hisses.

“What?” You say, all mock surprise. “So quickly.” 

He lets out a little grunt of annoyance and presses his face back into your coat.

The realisation that maybe Marc Spector was a little into the risk of being caught started to piece together in your mind. 

You pause for a second before deciding. “Okay.” You pull out of his embrace and turn to face him. 

“Okay?” He startles, his eyebrows pinched together in disappointment, thinking the game is over. 

“Hmm,” you smile sweetly and take his hand before you start walking and urging him to follow. It takes him a second to get the hint. 

No one else seems to notice, or mind, as you both head away from the celebrations. Following the little well trodden path that leads back to the village. 

Marc follows close, a step behind until you are far enough away from the bonfire to be seen by anyone there, but close enough that the light from it just about illuminates your path. 

You guide him off the trail into the thick outcrop of trees.

“Baby, what are we-”

You silence him with a harsh kiss, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips in surprise. He moans instantly, wrapping his strong arms around you and pulling you close even as you push him up against a thick oak tree. 

He kisses back needily, his breathing already ragged and cheeks warm. His nose, however, is still cold. 

You kiss his cheek lightly before you trail your lips down his jaw and nip lightly at his pulse point. 

He groans, bucking against you and squirming a little, biting his lip to keep himself vaguely quiet. 

“Didn’t realise you had a thing for the outside.” You tease and Marc huffs. 

“I don’t.” 

“Sure, sure,” you suck on his neck and he gasps, his body bending toward you, trying to wrap itself around you. You slowly run your hands down to his cock, the poor thing trapped in the tight confines of his jeans. 

He groans again, the sound grumbling through his chest and into you. “Baby,” he bites his lip, and even though you can’t make out his exact expression in the poor light, you can picture it perfectly in your mind. How his brow furrowed needily, how wide his pupils were.

You unbuckle his belt, the sound of the leather opening makes his eyes roll back and he has to bite his tongue to stop the loud moan that threatens to escape. 

He stays still as he can as you undo his jeans, his hands on your arms, needing to touch you and keep you close despite wanting to give you room to manoeuvre. 

And when you sink to your knees he shudders, throwing his head back against the tree bark and sighing softly. 

You take your gloves off and shove them into your coat pocket.

“Baby, I-” He swallows down his words, screwing his eyes tight as your warm hands pull him free and you suck on his head. 

Precum spreads across your tongue, salty and rich as you moan softly, the reverberations running down the length of him and making his muscles twitch. 

You pull back, just enough to pump the length of his a few times while your other hand massages his balls, one finger lightly pressing on his perineum. 

He shudders, sighing out into the darkness as you lap at his weeping slit with the flat of your tongue, running it along and swirling around his tip before swallowing him down. 

He cries out, grabbing hold of your shoulders as you take him as deeply as you can. He fights the urge to buck up and thrust himself completely in your throat, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move up and down, drawing his pleasure out like poison from a bite. He tries to fight against it, tries to prolong the sensation as long as he can, to relax into it. But he’s too worked up, too desperate. And his orgasm rapidly approaches. 

The earth and dead leaves are soft under your knees, the dampness of the dirt soaking a little into your trousers, but you don’t mind. Focusing solely on Marc’s little whimpers and pleads, sounds you’re sure he doesn’t even realise he’s making. 

How his legs shake, how his cock twitches in your throat, how his fingers dig into you. 

He rolls his hips slightly, panting and you know he’s close, practically there. Warmth builds in your chest, pride at how trusting he is with you, how he knows you’ll take care of him. 

You sink lower, relaxing your throat as much as you can and slipping him a centimetre further inside. 

Marc gasps, the sound loud but not enough to raise suspicion, he bucks once, swearing and trying to mutter a warning but you press closer to him and swallow as he spirts into your throat. 

He shakes as stars explode behind his eyes, as pleasure washes over him and momentarily rids him of his strength. He moans your name softly, gasping and keeping a firm hold on your shoulder to keep himself upright. 

You keep moving, letting him ride his orgasm out before you lick him clean and tuck him back into his jeans. 

You laugh a little as you try to get the zip up. 

“What?” He smiles, his voice floaty and wonderfully blissed out. 

“I can’t get your jeans closed with your dick still hard.” You giggle. 

“Oh,” he chuckles and helps you to your feet. “Don’t worry about it.” He kisses your cheek, your neck, nipping lightly at your skin before he kisses your lips and holding you close. 

“Don’t worry about it?”

“Yeah, well, we’re going back to the house anyway.”

“Oh, are we?” You smile.

He nods. 

“I thought we were going back to the bonfire?” You tease. 

He growls playfully, kissing the spot just under your ear. “Oh no, we’re going back and I’m going to fuck you into the mattress and make you scream while the village is empty and everyone else is here.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[rainba]

Sweet Bunny Dreams (Yandere OC Luka x Bunny Hybrid! GN! Reader)

AN: This wasn't the original fic I had planned for Luka, but like... The Kairos stuff with the scarification + wet dream stuff, I got REALLY inspired to write this! Hope you all enjoy :3c

i specialize in men fantasizing stuff lol ⸜( *ˊᵕˋ* )⸝

TWs/Tags: NSFW 18+, cannibalism at the end, noncon/dubcon, predator/prey dynamic, slight degradation

MINORS DNI.

Word count: 925

It keeps happening.

Every night, he has the same exact dream: he’s chasing you through a dark forest, the trees twisting up into the sky and reaching impossible heights. His heart is always throbbing, the bottom of his feet are on fire, and adrenaline is pumping through his veins. His eyes are locked in on one thing, and one thing alone: you, his precious bunny darling.

In his dreams, you always look so horrified. There’s already marks on your body– perhaps some scratch marks on your arms, tears on your thighs, or bruises on your shoulders. In some of his dreams, you’re completely nude. In others, you have hardly anything on, as the rest of your clothes have been already torn to shreds. And in his dreams, there’s already blood stains on Luka’s hands.

And the blood smells so good. 

And it also tastes so, so good.

He always needs more of it. It drives him up the wall.

It doesn’t matter how fast you run, he’ll always catch you in the end. Tackling you from behind, forcing your face into the cold dirt, yanking your wrists behind your back as you scream and beg for him to let you go.

“P-please, mister fox..! I haven’t done anything to you! Please, just let me go!”

God, those words send electricity through his body. His head starts to spin by the time he reaches this part of the dream, and he figures that he’s getting dizzy because all of the blood in his head is going straight to his dick. The way you squirm and whine beneath him makes him so fucking horny.

He gets even rougher with you, growling into your sensitive bunny ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t have tempted me,” he spits out as he lifts your ass into the air and shoves your face even harder into the dirt. You scream even louder, but it only makes him laugh. Nobody can hear you. Nobody can save you.

“Keep screaming like that… I love it.”

He digs his sharp nails into your skin and yanks your hair, enjoying the way you squirm and squeal. In this part of the dream, he always rushes to unzip his black pants and pull them half-way down his thighs, then he rushes to pull his cock out of his briefs. 

“N-no, don’t put it in! Please! It’s too big!” Your words fuel his fire, a smirk grows on his face.

“If you want me to stop, make me.”

And in that moment, he shoves his entire length inside of you, not stopping until you reach the base of it. Your hole is so fucking tight, it takes his breath away. 

In this part of his dream, you moan like crazy– secretely enjoying the way he’s abusing you.

“Good little bunny,” he grits his teeth and huffs. His cock feels so good inside of you– so good that it’s borderline addicting. In his dream, he thrusts into you at ungodly speeds, the heated sounds of sex echoing through the trees. Your constant “no”s gradually turn into “please don’t stop!”

Luka then removes his hand from your hair and grabs both of your ears, pushing them together and tugging at them. “You bunnies… Your reputation for being whores, always fucking anyone that so much as looks at you… Breeding like there’s no tomorrow.” He leans down and licks your neck. “It’s your instincts– your reason for living.” He gives your ears one last jerk before moving his hands to your stomach, rubbing circles over it. He snarls, “your only purpose is to take my cock.”

Pleasure shoots through his body when he utters those words– and your body happily pushes back against him.

“You should thank me for helping you serve your purpose.”

Then in his dream, he does the impossible: he fucks you even harder, even faster. 

“Thank you, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” You spew and sputter. And as you thank him, you convulse around his length, moaning with your tongue sticking out and your eyes rolled back. It’s so delicious, so very delicious– it makes him cum on the spot. He forcefully holds you in place, making sure not a single drop is spilled, and then his animalistic instincts kick into overdrive.

He then leans over you, his jaw opened wide, and he laughs without remorse.

But his last words are never the same. 

In one previous dream, he growled, “you should’ve ran when you had the chance.”

In another one, he said: “I’ll make sure you never take anyone else’s cock ever again.”

But this time, his words are unusually soft.

“I love you.”

However, after that, everything always ends the same. He wraps his hands around your throat, his legs straddle your hips, and he forces you to stay still. He bears his fangs and buries them deep into your neck, chomping down, and ripping out a large chunk. The taste is unbelievably mouth-watering. He eats and he eats until there’s nothing left.

…And when he awakes from his dream, Luka finds himself panting and sweating, cum dripping down his thighs. It’s embarrassing, it’s infuriating. The shame he feels as he walks to the bathroom every morning is intense.

It always takes him a long time to recover from the fantasy.

Luka looks at a photo of you– a photo of you smiling so innocently. It soothes him– it brings him back down to earth. He couldn’t possibly bring himself to actually ruin you. No, he doesn’t want that at all… He would never do that to you…

…Right?

[etherialblackrose]

TÌprrte' (pleasure)

Navi Dictionary:

Tìyawn - Love

Ma - my

tsamsiyu- warrior

Warnings: vaginal, overstimulation, crying, voyeurism 

 All characters depicted in this fic at 18+ minors dni

There’s something addicting about fucking in a place that you probably shouldn’t be….right? Maybe it’s the thrill of almost getting caught or could it be the idea of your partner being so horny that they have to take you right there? Maybe, but your favorite part was how pussy drunk your boyfriend got. 

Currently, Lo’ak was trying his hardest not to be loud as he fucked you against the walls of a cove you two had found while exploring. There was honestly no need for him to do this seeing as that the little cove you two found was fairly deep into the cave systems that high camp resided in and besides, it was dinner time so there was little chance you two would get caught. 

You loved seeing him like this. Him struggling to keep his whimpering, moans, and groans quiet as he felt your pussy flutter around his cock. The feeling of his cock dragging against your velvety walls was enough to drive him crazy. With each thrust you could feel his cock twitching, signaling that he was near his release, but you weren’t letting him off that easily. “....Tiyawn.…” He bites back a moan. “ I think I’m going to cum soon” His grip on your ass tightened and his thrusting became sloppy as he neared his second release of the night.  

  “C’mon Lo I know you can keep going a little longer for me…..can’t you?“ You moaned in his ear as you moved to wrap your arms around his neck, your legs tightening around his waist, urging him deeper inside you. You grinned as he whimpered and moved to bury his face against your neck. 

 Just as your head falls back onto the wall of the cave, you hear footsteps and Lo’ak’s pace falters. “(Y/n)? Lo’ak?” Neteyam’s voice called out. Lo’ak’s thrusts faltered and his head shot up, worry in his eyes. 

As Neteyam began rapidly approaching, you and Lo’ak panicked slightly. Your relationship was a closely guarded secret that nobody knew. You two had been sneaking around for months now and the thought of getting caught by his older brother of all people had Lo’ak panicked. 

  Thinking quickly you dislodge yourself from Lo’ak and push him into an alcove covered by glowing vines. Lo’ak looks like he’s about to speak but you quickly silence him by putting a finger to your mouth as you tilt your head towards the entrance of the cove.  Neteyams footsteps get louder, signaling his approach. 

 You quickly hop into the water just as Neteyam walks in. As he walks in he catches a glimpse of your bare back turned to him and he quickly covers his eyes and turns away from you.

“Oh great Mother I am so sorry, I just heard your voice and didn’t think you’d be taking a bath.” His embarrassment is evident in his voice as you listen to him speak.

“It’s fine I just came here to relax, did you need me for something?” You were trying to get him out of the cove as fast as you could because your high was wearing off. 

 “Have you seen my brother? Spider’s been looking for him.” 

 “Nope, last I saw he was at dinner. Maybe he’s just out in the forest?” 

 “Maybe, anyways I’m going to get out here, I’m sorry again.” With those final words you watch he walks back towards the cave entrance and wait until you can no longer hear his footsteps before sighing in relief. 

 Lo’ak emerges from his hiding place, still hard, and makes his way over to where you are in the pool. “Guess we gotta make this quick.” You say as he slips into the water behind you. He hums in response as he gently pulls you against him. You can feel his still-hard cock pushing into your lower back, further stoking the fire that was building inside you. As you bask in the feeling of his body against yours, you can feel his fingers trailing from your waist and brushing against your clit. You jump against his touch, your clit still sensitive from earlier, and let out a breathy moan.

 “Mmm,” Your breath picks up as he picks up the pace, alternating between rubbing and pinching your sensitive bud. His fingers soon find themselves inside you, immediately finding your sweet spot and begin abusing it while his other hand moves to massage your tit. “L-Lo’ak I need you again.” As soon as the words leave your mouth he’s picking you up and laying you gently on the ground at the edge of the pool. Your eyes meet his for just a moment before his thick cock slides past your lips and back into the warm embrace of your pussy. 

  You both let out a moan as he bottomed out inside you, the deliciously painful stretch of his cock causing you to arch your back away from the ground. He began rutting into you deeper now and was using both the leverage he had with you against the ground and his grip on your ass, to readjust himself so that he could find that one spot inside of you that he knew would have you seeing stars. 

  He could tell by the way one of your hands left his back in favor of covering your mouth to stifle the moan that you were letting out. The fat head of his cock started abusing that spot over and over again. Lo’ak’s name spilled from your lips like a prayer as though he was a god and he was yours, at least for the night. He was sure you were going to cum soon when he felt the gummy walls of your pussy squeeze his cock tighter than they were before.

  When you came, you came hard. And you were sure that Lo’ak was going over the edge soon. So instead of basking in the afterglow of your orgasm you instead took to cooing in your boyfriend's ear. 

  “You’re so pretty like this Lo. You look like you’re about to cry just from fucking me. You want to cum so badly don’t you?”He could barely speak and looked like he was on the edge of tears as he nodded his head. 

  “Then cum for me.” That was all the permission he needed before his speed picked up and he rutted inside of you before his thrusts got sloppy and his hips stalled. Lo’ak bit down onto your neck as he came inside you. Thick white ropes of cum painted your insides and your toes began to curl as he fucked you both through your third combined orgasm of the nightand At this point, he was actually teary and started whimpering even more as he kept pumping his cum into you. 

  You could only smile and run your fingers through his hair as his whimpers died down and he finished cumming inside you. After he was done he gently pulled out of you and hugged you close to himself as he shyly buried his head in your neck again. 

“Fuck mama that was the biggest one yet-” He says as he sits up on his elbows above you. “-think you’re good to walk back or do you want me to carry you?” You giggle and put your hand on the back of his neck to pull him into a kiss. 

  Pulling away you speak. “I should be fine ma tsamsiyu, maybe I can actually take a bath now” He chuckles and helps you stand before pulling you into another kiss. “As long as I get to join you tiyawn” 

  “Always” You say as you give him one last kiss before pulling away and wading further into the water. “Otherwise who’s going to wash my back?” With a smirk Lo’ak follows you deeper into the water, maybe there’s time for a round four?

.

.

.

.

.

Unbeknown to you and Lo’ak, somebody had been watching you two, and that somebody was Netyam. Cock in hand he had been watching and listening as his brother fucked into you. He felt so dirty like this, watching his little brother fuck a girl he liked but couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. He had only wanted to turn back and ask if you wanted him to wait on you when he heard your moans. He watched for a while before he felt his cock straining against his loincloth. Neteyam palmed himself for a bit before pulling his loincloth off and using his hand to pleasure himself. 

  He wished he was Lo’ak as he watched his brother plowing into you. Oh he had dreamed of fucking that tight little pussy you had every night, wanting to hear you scream and moan his name as he fucked into you, but for right now this had to do.  As your moans picked up, so did the pace of his hand and soon enough he was painting the wall next to him. He gave himself a few more pumps as he came down from his orgasm. After he fully came down, he spared a glance back at the two of you before making his way back to highcamp, plan in mind for the next time he gets you alone. 

Eta: Please check out this post!

Taglist: @neteyamsyawntu @xylianasblog hope ya'll enjoy ;)

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader [33K] summer camp, a few almost kisses, that friends to lovers shit and your own personal rule: no boys.

I want you to want me. 

The man in front of you seemed stressed. 

The fax machine was whirring, the phone was ringing and there was a large glass jar on the desk that was stuffed full of dollar bills, a faded label on the front that said “therapy kayak money.”

Jim Hopper, your new boss and camp leader, handed you a set of keys and a shirt, sighing as he scrubbed a hand over his moustached face. 

“Michigan? Right?” 

You weren’t sure if the man was asking where you were from or blessing you with a new name because he couldn’t remember your real one. But either way, you nodded. 

“Look kid, I’m sorry but things are crazy here today. The dumbass delivery truck is lost and we’re already a few counsellors down until the road through Martinsville opens back up.”

You raised your brows, confused. 

“Fallen tree,” Hopper waved his hand, “it’s fine. Listen, the campers don’t arrive for another three days anyway. Can you get yourself settled? I’ll find someone to show you the ropes soon, I just gotta answer some calls.”

You nodded again, clutching your faded shirt in your hands. The collar and cuffs matched the same sun bleached green that the word “staff” was printed in and the keys had a tab with “cabin thirty one” attached. 

Hopper must’ve seen your worried face because he sighed again, softening a little despite the way he was desperately shuffling papers and files. 

“You’ll be fine,” the man told you. It was almost reassuring. “The rest of the counsellors are great - well, the majority of them at least. Don’t talk to Billy. Anyway, the kids are easy enough and Bob actually makes some decent food in that old kitchen.”

Jim looked at you with kind eyes and his voice softened even further, despite the way the phone was still ringing. “Grab some breakfast, tell him I sent you, yeah? And take the morning to explore.”

It was alarming, the way you’d found yourself in the middle of Yellowwood State Forest, a whole other state away from home. But after graduating high school almost two years ago with absolutely zero idea of what you were supposed to do next, and an ex-boyfriend you so desperately wanted to avoid, you figured a few months in the wilderness wouldn’t do you any harm. Especially if you were getting paid for it.  

And besides, you were good with children. 

“Welcome to Camp Upside Down, kid, don’t eat the mushrooms,” Hopper smiled somewhat tiredly and then you were on your own. 

Fuck. 

Stepping out of the cabin, the warmth and smell of a new summer washed over you. The forest was quiet in the early morning but still very much alive, soft chirps and buzzes from hidden animals, insects that lurked in the too long grass by the edges of the lake. Something splashed by the dock, and in the distance, you could hear a car approaching, maybe two, one louder than the other. 

The dirt paths were empty, the lack of kids running around making Camp Upside Down seem almost serene. It was still early, the sun a little golden, the sky a little hazy and the light that shone through the tree canopy made pretty dappled patterns on the forest floor. Everything smelled like morning dew, damp grass and tree moss. 

And then your stomach grumbled. Deciding that your bags could stay in your car for a little while longer, you took Hopper’s advice and headed towards what you assumed was the mess hall. The dirt paths led the way through trees, past the unlit camp fire that sat proud in the middle of the forest clearing. 

You could smell coffee as you approached, maybe bacon, some maple syrup too. It cut through the scent of pine and leftover rain but then there was smoke and the familiar smell of weed and then - fuck - the solid frame of someone slamming into you. 

“Oh shit.”

Or did you walk into them? You weren’t sure, but whoever it was had been hiding around the corner you were turning, their back pressed to the old, moss covered wood of an unused cabin. You dropped your keys in surprise, catching your staff shirt before it fell into something that looked more like sludge than mud. 

But the person, the boy, you’d ran into picked up your keys before you could, your eyes a little wild because the forest had been so quiet and you hadn’t expected to see anyone. Not yet. 

“Cabin thirty one?” the boy asked you, holding the silver back out by the keyring. He was smiling, kind, wide, a slow and warm stretch that showed off the dimples in his cheeks.

Oh fuck, he was pretty, and he was a lot more man than boy. 

You took the keys from his hand, smiling in thanks but your breath was stuck in your throat because this guy in front of you was far, far too nice to look at. Dark, messy curls, bangs that were falling into the biggest, brown eyes you’d ever seen. They looked a little soulful, bright, full of mischief and they blinked at you when you didn’t say anything.

“Fuck, thanks,” you managed and then you gestured back to the the corner you’d turned, “m’sorry, I must’ve not been paying attention, I didn’t even s-”

The boy grinned, brushed away your apology with a hand that was still holding a lit joint. He winced and stubbed it out on the side of the cabin, winking at you as he did. 

“Nah, s’fine, don’t worry about it,” he told you. “I was totally lurking. Definitely in places I shouldn’t be.”

He wasn’t wearing a staff shirt, you noticed. Instead, his was black with a band logo for Metallica on the front. The sleeves had been entirely cut off, the sides of the cotton gaping around his waist, tattoos showing through the slashes and there was so much bare skin. 

It didn’t look like a counsellor uniform. Nothing about the way this boy looked like it was by the book. More tattoos littered his arms: some bats, a spider, some kind of dragon, a scary looking puppet. His black jeans were ripped, his belt too long and the end of it hung by his knee. His big boots were creased and worn, black and already layered with mud and pine needles from the forest. 

And then he tucked what was left of his joint behind his ear and he was smiling at you in the softest way; big, brown eyes and dimples too. He suddenly wasn’t as scary as you thought he was trying to be.

“You're the new girl, right?” 

You twisted your lips, nodded, because you had to be right? No one else stood with you at orientation - if you could call it that - and Hopper hadn’t mentioned any other new counsellors. In fact, he hadn’t mentioned anyone. 

“I guess?” You replied, smiling a little more warmly when the boy grinned, tucked a curl behind his other ear and shoving his hands in his back pockets. 

His arms flexed and you swallowed hard. 

You told him your name, clutched your keys and your shirt a little closer to your chest because the boy was looking at you with those eyes that seemed to see through your fucking bones. Did you have a soul? You were sure he could see it if you did. 

“I’m Eddie,” he told you, kicking stray rock. Was he blushing? “Eddie Munson, I teach music here.”

“So you do work here,” you squinted at him, eyes narrowed on the slashed up shirt, the ripped denim. “I was starting to wonder if I was just talking to some random dude in the middle of the forest.”

He laughed, tilting his head to look at you, “well that just tells me you’re far too trusting.”

“Or just up for a little trouble,” you replied too quickly. 

His answering grin was nothing short of scandalous. 

“Where’re you from?” Eddie asked, moving in a way that told you he had a problem staying still. He walked into a burst of sunlight that lit the forest floor, came alive under the glow of it, his dark hair turning a little lighter, his pale skin showing a little more signs of being touched by summer. 

“Michigan, a small town you probably wouldn’t have heard of,” you told him. “You from around here?”

“Nah, Philly,” he replied, still smiling at you like he’d found his new favourite thing to do. 

You gasped, all faux shock like you’d stumbled across a celebrity. “Ooh, a city boy, in the woods? Do the papers know?”

Eddie laughed again, a proper, lovely laugh that made your cheeks heat up ‘cause you felt like you’d achieved something. 

He hummed, leaned against the cabin he’d been using for his hiding spot and crossed his arms over his chest. You tried not to stare at the way his muscles moved, or how the collar of his shirt shifted to show off a glinting, silver chain around his neck. 

“Sometimes it’s nice to just touch a tree, you know?” He smiled, almost flirtatiously if it weren’t for the fact his cheeks were rosy and his eyes were downcast shyly. “Plus, my parole officer says I gotta do at least another four summers here.”

“Par- what?” You tried not to let the shock show on your face. You weren’t sure you’d succeeded. “Oh.”

That grin was back, that wide, slow spreading one that showed off the dimple on his right cheek. It made his eyes flash, made them look darker than they were when he stood in the sun and Christ, fuck, he was a menace. 

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

“Or am I?” 

You stood, slack jawed and unsure because this boy was still a stranger and even though he had nice eyes and a pretty smile, you didn’t really know him. 

He must’ve sensed your hesitation though, because he was suddenly stricken looking, curls bouncing as he shook his head at his own last words. “No, no - shit - I really was kidding.”

Maybe it was something in his face that made you believe him, that awfully earnest shine in his eyes. He looked concerned, worried that he’d scared you away so quickly but then you were snorting, not the most attractive sound, but it made the boy light back up. 

He was watching you carefully after that, your little sound of amusement leaving a pretty smile on your lips and he mirrored it, swaying a little on the spot like he was too excited to stay still. Then, a hand, not really offered for you to hold, but a gesture for you to follow him. Silver rings flashed in the sun, skulls and demons and was that a pig? 

It didn’t matter, your feet were moving and you were following him. 

He seemed as surprised as you were, looking over his shoulder at you with a big smile, catching your elbow when you tripped on a root. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t do the same almost five seconds later, both of you snorting as his boots slid on some damp moss. 

“First time at camp?” he asked as a way of distraction, hands shoved back into his jean pockets, like he had to stop himself from reaching out to guide you through the forest.

You nodded, finding your footing with him as he led you onto a narrow pathway, the wooden signposts pointing you both towards the mess hall. 

“Uh, yeah, figured I’d try something new,” you said. 

Eddie grinned like he’d heard that answer before. “What’re you running from?” he asked.

His words made you stop, shoes pushed to the pine needles and you felt a little warm, a little shocked, that he’d figured you out so quickly. And if Eddie sensed your surprise, he didn’t show it, he just leaned up against a tree trunk and waited for you to say something, even if it was to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business.

But instead, you shrugged and told him the truth. 

“Tiny town with not much to do and nowhere to go,” you squinted at him in the sun, a humourless smile on your lips. “And maybe some people that get hard to avoid in a place that has a population of like, seven hundred.”

“A boy?” Eddie smiled knowingly. 

“Presumptuous,” you shot back but he saw the heat on your cheeks and the way you stared at the tree behind him. 

“But not wrong,” he countered. That smile was still there. He didn’t push at your silence though, just tilted his head further down the bath and said, “c’mon, trouble.”

“Have you worked here before?” You asked, scrambling to keep up with his long strides. It was obvious from the way he was leading you that he had, but you didn’t know what else to say. You winced in embarrassment. “Of course you have, I meant how ma-”

“This’ll be my fourth,” Eddie told you, putting you out of your misery by ignoring the way your cheeks were warm. “Started off as a lifeguard before I realised I can’t really save myself in the water, never mind some kids, and then Hop let me run my own music workshop instead.”

You were impressed, even though you tried to hide it. “A whole workshop, huh?”

Eddie smiled as he led you round another corner, passing empty cabins that would soon be filled with sticky handed kids. A larger building was finally in sight, with big windows and a pitched roof, a wooden sign with ‘mess hall’ above the door and the smell of fresh coffee coming from inside.

He hummed, a sound of confirmation and as you both strolled towards the hall, Eddie told you all about his job.

“A whole workshop,” he repeated, “I teach guitar, drums, a little piano and I’m working on getting some more percussion stuff in for the kids who are… lacking rhythm.”

“Oh, I’m definitely a percussion girl,” you cracked. “A triangle would be a challenge.”

“I give private lessons, if you need them,” Eddie murmured and you weren’t sure if you imagined the way his voice dropped a little lower, the way he seemed to be looking at you through his lashes. 

You stalled, stumbled, close enough to the mess hall now that you could hear the hushed hisses of coffee machines, the clatter of some dishes. If your cheeks hadn’t been pink before, they certainly were now. You could feel the heat there, a rosy beam you were sure. 

“Uh-”

“Ohmygodno,” Eddie rushed out, eyes wide and hands in front of him, like he was warding off a cornered animal. “No, no! I actually do give lessons. Private lessons.”

You were still staring, lips parted. The whole forest was quiet, like it was listening in too. 

“Guitar.” Eddie’s voice was short. Strained. God, his cheeks were pink too. 

“Oh.”

You were both silent. A beat passed, maybe another, and somewhere above, a bird called out, mocking. It suddenly felt so much warmer than it already had, the sun climbing, Eddie’s eyes trained on your shoulder, too shy to meet your eye. 

The air felt thicker than it should’ve. 

But then the boy was clapping his hands together, the noise sharp enough that it made a squirrel leap from a nearby bush and disappear up a tree. Eddie swung his arms, limbs clumsy, a little on edge and finally, finally, he looked at you again. 

“So, this is the, uh, the mess hall.” He pointed to the sign that said as exactly such and clicked his tongue, closing his eyes in more awkward embarrassment. “Yup.” 

You nodded, clutching your shirt a little tighter in your hand, keys clinking as you have an equally pathetic thumbs up to the boy. “Yeah, that’s great, yeah… thanks, Eddie.”

He clicked his fingers, pointed them at you like a fake gun and then he was groaning, thumbs pressed into his closed eyes as he stumbled blindly away from you. You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled in your chest, tried to hide it with a twist of your lips but it made your cheeks sore, in the nicest sort of way.

“Uh, yeah, so roll call’s at eleven sharp, Hop hates it when we’re late and uh-” Eddie stood a little away, what he seemed to deem a safe distance from you. “I’d offer to help you find your cabin but I’ve already proven myself to be an absolute sex pest, so-”

You really did laugh then, a choked off sound that made Eddie grin and you smothered your own behind you fist. 

He was sweet, cute. Really pretty. Even sweeter when he smiled at you like that, eyes sincere and so bright, his lips stretched out soft like he was amazed he’d gotten you to laugh at all. 

“They’re back past the firepit, right?”

The boy nodded, hooked a thumb over his shoulder and told you, “yeah, just follow the path that veers off towards the lake. You’re not that far from mine. If you come to a, like, massive cliff, you’ve gone too far.”

You tried to hide another grin, squinted at him in the sun and wondered how you were going to get through the summer with Eddie Munson and your own self appointed rule:

No boys. 

—————

Hopper's office was packed when you slipped back inside just before eleven o’clock. The fax machine was still whirring but the phone had stopped and you realised as you sat down, that a man you hadn’t seen before was holding the cable for it in his hand, unplugged and blissfully silent. 

He stared at you through thick framed glasses, clipboard in his other hand and he scanned his paper. 

“Michigan, right?” He asked you. 

You mumbled your own name, nervous to speak too loud with so many new faces staring at you. You spotted Eddie across the room, lazing on an old couch next to a pretty boy with wild hair and an even prettier girl on his lap. Eddie grinned at you, lifted his hand from his lap and wiggled his fingers in a wave. 

But the older man was huffing, scanning what you realised was your staff file and he brushed off your reply. 

“Yeah, uhuh, Michigan, that’s what I said.”

You didn’t argue, didn't dare, ‘cause every pair of eyes was set upon you, so you dropped to an almost empty sofa and stared at your feet. Next to you, a girl with short hair and a backwards cap leaned in. She had a warm smile, sleepy eyes and freckles across her cheeks, and knee nudged yours. 

She felt like a friend. 

“Unless you wanna be known as ‘new girl’ for the next six weeks, I’d let Murray call you Michigan.” She grinned, voice soft. “I’m Robin.”

Before you could reply, Hopper was standing back up, clapping his hands together and motioning to his camp assistant. “Okay kids, let’s go. Murray?”

“Roll call, shitheads, look alive!” Murray barked, grinning wildly like this was his favourite hobby. “Chrissy, welcome back, we missed you last year. You’re back on gymnastics, but we’re gonna need you to report to Joyce for a first aid refresher, okay?”

A blonde by the window grinned and nodded, eyes wide and bright, features perky and flushed pink. 

“Steve, Hawkins,” Murray pointed to the two on the sofa, neither really paying attention to him as they whispered to each other. “You’re both on games too if you can promise to behave-”

“-and to not break anymore goddamn kayaks,” Hopper cut in. The room snickered and the couple rolled their eyes, grumbling something about the quality of boats at camp. 

“-and Harrington, you’re off the lifeguard rota since you and Hargrove can’t play nice. We want you on orienteering and Jason, you’re on lake duty now.”

Two blonde boys who stood by the window fist bumped, and from the way one of them wore all denim and sunglasses indoors, you had a feeling that he was the Billy your boss had warned you about. 

“Argyle,” Murray barked and a long haired boy jerked awake from where he sat sleeping against the back wall. “Woodshop…let's keep it to bird boxes and kitchen utensils, yeah? Mrs Harlaw didn’t appreciate her son coming home with a custom rolling tray last summer.”

“Sure thing, my dude,” Argyle nodded, smiling happily. 

“Buckley, you’re back in the kitchens with Bob, the kids love your sloppy joes, who’d have thought it, huh?”

Robin gave an unenthusiastic salute, spinning her hat the right way around so she could pull the brim of it low enough to close her eyes and not be seen. 

“Munson, we’re gonna need your workshop schedule by tomorrow, please and thank you,” Murray handed Eddie some sheets of paper, “and you have seventeen new sign ups for private lessons. If you can make it twenty by the time the first week is out, we’ll look at negotiating pay.”

“Yessir,” Eddie murmured, flicking through the list he’d been handed. His eyes found yours and you warmed at the realisation you’d been caught staring. 

He tilted his head towards the sheet, smiled and mouthed, “wanna sign up?”

But then Murray stepped in front of him, barely looking as he said, “Edward, stop flirting with the newbie,” you burned at the laughter, looking at the wall that held a mess of Polaroids and crayon drawings, paintings that were dated back ten years plus. “Nancy and Jonathan should hopefully arrive tomorrow, once the road has opened back up, so in the meantime, please for the love of god, don’t make me have to babysit you all.”

The man turned back to you and grinned, almost menacingly, eyebrows raised in a challenge. “New kid, Michigan, whatever your name is…” Murray searched down the list for your information, a finger scanning over the page. “Okay we’ve got you on arts and crafts with Nancy and if Chrissy needs help in the gym, you’ll be working Fridays there too, got it?”

You nodded, smiling a little tight ‘cause everyone in the room was still staring at you. 

And just like that, Hopper plugged the phone back into the wall and Murray clapped his hands together, a signal for everyone to gather their things, schedules clutched in their hands as they stood. The ringing started again, the fax machine whirred and you were pushed outside with the rush of the small crowd. 

The morning sun caught you the same time a hand did, just as warm on the small of your back, right before you stumbled over old roots that had grown too wild. You turned to find Eddie, smiling kindly, a little shyly, holding you until you found your footing again. 

“Doing okay there?” 

You let out a sigh that you hoped he couldn’t hear shake, squinting a little in the sun. “Yeah! Yeah— just, just a little overwhelmed.”

He nodded like he understood, taking his hand away but you still felt the burn over your shirt, cheeks feeling just as warm as he kept smiling that smile. There was a boy hovering behind him, smirking a little, brown eyes on both of you as he pretended that he wasn’t listening. 

“Just wait until the kids arrive, you really gotta watch out for the ones that bite,” Eddie grinned when you laughed, hands shoved in his pockets and he hoped he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. 

“Are you speaking from experience?” You asked him, feeling lighter than you had inside the cabin. The air smelled like pine and the creek you knew that flowed nearby. “Should I have made sure my shots were up to date before I came?”

“Oh yeah, rookie error, sweetheart,” Eddie grinned wolfishly, “it’s the little ones that’ll get you, the five year olds that can still reach your ankles.”

You snorted and suddenly you were pushing at his shoulder, hand on his bare skin and he was warm and soft under the tattoo ink and nonono, you weren’t supposed to be flirting. 

So you cleared your throat and took a step back, eyes searching the moss at your feet and the forest seemed so much warmer than it was before. Before you could say anything else though - before you could dig yourself any deeper - the boy that seemed to be waiting for Eddie interrupted. 

He had wild hair and a staff hoodie that had a girl's name stitched on the chest instead of his own and he was smirking. 

“Uh, not to interrupt this little,” he waved a hand between the two of you, “thing, but if you want my help moving the amps, Eds, we gotta get it done soon.”

“I hope you can sense the irony in that, Harrington,” Eddie shot back and the other boy - Steve, you were sure - just grinned. “But yeah, I’ll get you at the van.” Eddie threw a set of keys at his friend and then it was just the two of you once more. 

“So, uh, there’s a staff party tonight,” Eddie explained, bringing one arm up to mess with the curls at the back of his head, squinting down at you like the sun was too bright and he was too casual to care about the words he was saying. “S’usually down by the dock, the beer is shit but it’s free. I’ll see you there?”

The boy was looking at you so earnestly that you couldn’t possibly have said no. Big, brown eyes, lined with impossibly thick lashes that blinked prettily at you as he waited for an answer. It wasn’t until you heard too much birdsong from the tree canopy that you realised you were staring at him, lips parted and saying absolutely nothing. 

Then you were nodding, trying hard not to smile too much because the boy’s grin was contagious and he was too pretty with the way the sun shone on him. 

“Yeah,” you told him. “I’ll see you there.”

—————

The lake was framed with the stacked kayaks, the sand so much cooler now that the sun had dipped below the mountains along the horizon. There was a din of music, laughter, conversation dulled with the sound of the lake lapping at the shoreline and the idea of this space in the forest being your home for six weeks, didn’t seem so bad. 

You wandered closer with arms crossed across your chest, wary and unsure of the unfamiliar faces and the smell of weed in the air that mixed with the pine needles. But a blonde girl that you recognised from the morning meeting caught your eye and waved, ponytail swinging as she walked over to you. 

“Hey! Michigan, right?” She smiled, cheeks and lips a matching bubblegum pink. 

“Uh, yeah. Apparently,” you smiled, not bothering to correct her, especially when she was handing you a red cup of something strong. You sipped, grimacing at the taste of cheap beer, lukewarm at best. “You’re Chrissy?”

You prayed you’d remembered right and when the girl grinned and nodded, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“How’re you finding things?” Chrissy asked, nodding towards the small fire that someone had made on the sandy knoll, to the group of counsellors sprawled around it. “Did you get settled okay?”

You walked with her, edging around an old dock that seemed ready to sink into the bottom of the lake, waving shyly to the people who greeted you, the music too loud to really exchange anything more. You leaned into the blonde, mouth near her ear as you replied.  

“Yeah, yeah— it’s been good!” You shrugged, somewhat unsure. “It’s different. Quiet.”

And it was. Your cabin was the last one in the row of counsellor homes, far away from the main offices and mess halls, almost hidden by the overgrown shrubs, wildflowers growing up the sides of the porch stairs. Everything outside was birdsong and the buzz of insects you couldn’t see, a tiny trickle of water from a creek that ran by the back wall window. 

Chrissy smiled and patted your arm, “enjoy it while it lasts, the kids will destroy the peace soon.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said wryly and just as you went to take another long sip from your cup, the girl's eyebrows shot up and she tilted her chin to something behind you.

“Someone’s waiting on you.” 

You turned, heart picking up in an embarrassing fashion as you spotted Eddie lingering by the dockside, a matching red cup in his hand as he spoke with Steve and another girl, who were debating animatedly about something you couldn’t hear. But he was watching you. 

You looked from the boy and back to Chrissy, hoping you didn’t look as flustered as you felt and Chrissy grinned, nudging at your arm with her elbow. 

“Go say hi,” she said and her voice was too sweet and small to sound commanding, but you did so anyway. “I’ll see you tomorrow? We can go over the gym schedule.”

You nodded, already walking across the sand to where Eddie was standing and you wondered if you imagined the way he pulled himself up a little straighter at your approach. He met you halfway, seemingly eager to get away from his two friends who were now too busy making out, hands pulling at each other's belt loops. 

“Hi,” you smiled, wondering how he looked as pretty in the moonlight as he did under the sun. 

“You made it,” Eddie greeted, tapping his cup against your own. “Makin’ friends?”

Eddie waved at Chrissy over your shoulder, ignoring how she looked at your back and winked, shooting him a thumbs up in response to a question he didn’t ask. 

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, following him as he led you both over to a dried out log that sat a little away from the fire - and an apparent audience. “Yeah, Chrissy seems nice.”

“She is,” Eddie agreed, sitting close enough to you that your legs brushed. It seemed to be accidental, ‘cause he flinched and moved a little, leaving enough room between you both that you felt the cooler nip of the night air. “Most of the guys here are.”

“Most?”

Eddie scrunched his nose in a very endearing show of disdain. “Jason is questionable,” he stage whispered to you, leaning back in so you could smell his cologne and campfire smoke that clung to him. “And Hargrove is more than questionable.”

You snorted, eyeing the boy in question. Billy Hargrove was lit up by firelight, a can of beer held to his lips and his denim jacket was almost too tight across his shoulders. He was blonde, blue eyed and dangerous looking, the kind of pretty that was too good to be true, the kind your mother told you to stay away from. 

And with good reason, you noted, ‘cause the boy caught your gaze and even though he grinned, you realised there wasn’t much kindness behind those pretty baby blues. 

“Yeah,” you agreed mildly, “I’ve been well warned about him. I’m not interested in knowing more.”

Eddie seemed a little surprised, hiding his smile behind his cup as he took a sip. There was a rolled up joint tucked behind his ear that he seemed to have forgotten about, curls less wild than earlier now the heat in the air has fizzled out, a too big sweater on top of his previously slashed up shirt. 

“Not your type?” Eddie asked, aiming for casual. He was staring out at the lake, taking quick glances at you from the corner of his eyes as he waited for a reply. 

You huffed out a laugh and it sounded more like a sigh, the boy noted and the smile you gave him was a tired around the edges. You dug the heel of your sneaker into the sand, kicked at a rock you unearthed and tried not to sound too self deprecating when you explained:

“No one’s really my type, right now.”

“Oh?” 

You wondered if you misheard the disappointment in the boy’s voice, if Eddie really did look a little sadder than before when your gaze met his again. He was smiling, soft, eyebrows raised in question and his knee nudged your own. 

“I’ve sworn off relationships,” you explained, shrugging. The memory of a boy you wanted to forget was still lingering in the corners of your thoughts and it made your skin itch. “Kinda over boys, nothing but trouble, unfortunately.”

Eddie grinned wryly, placing his empty cup at his feet and fiddling with the silver rings on his fingers instead. You tried not to stare but the moon and the surface of the lake was glinting off of them, making you gawk at long fingers and wide palms, tiny silver scars that lit up in the low light. 

“Trouble, huh?” Eddie asked, head turned to you so you could see just how brown his eyes really were. “That’s a shame. I’m good at trouble.”

You inhaled on your drink, beer hitting the back of your throat at his words and you could feel the heat in your cheeks as you spluttered. Eddie was laughing quietly when you swiped the back of your hand across your lips and glared at him, embarrassment making your chest tight. 

“No boys,” you told him, choosing to ignore his reply. You didn’t really know what to say to that, not without being able to drag him back to your bunk afterwards — and that was the opposite of the plan. “I need a summer to just… recalibrate.”

Eddie was still smiling and he nodded, everything about his soft and gentle and lit up by the stars. There was a dimple on his right cheek you wanted to put your lips on. 

“Seems like a good plan,” he murmured, eyes flickering down to your lips and Jesus Christ, the night seemed as warm as the day next to Eddie. He brought a thumb to your chin, sliding upupup until the pad of it swiped at the corner of your mouth, wiping away a little drop of beer you’d missed. 

You swallowed, hard. 

“Still a shame though,” the boy told you, sighing dramatically, letting his hand drop away. Eddie stared back out to the lake, grinning when you frowned. 

“It is?” You weren’t sure where he was going with this. 

“Oh yeah,” Eddie assured you, nodding emphatically. Everything the boy said and did seemed to be dripping in drama, glitter and theatrics. It made you smile even when you didn’t mean to. “I had a plan, you see.”

It was your turn to seem intrigued, brows raised, shoulders leaning into him. “Oh?”

Eddie sighed again, just as playful as before, heavy and over exaggerated. “We were totally gonna fall in love,” the boy explained, trying hard to keep the smile off of his face, but his lips were turning up at the corners and his eyes looked like brown sugar, glittering and warm.

You scoffed, a sharp noise of surprise bursting from your chest and it made Eddie beam. He was all soft edges and softer eyes as he looked at you, ignoring the way his friends were watching, his gaze trained on the way you were grinning for him. 

“We were?” You laughed — you’d forgotten to be shy, you’d forgotten you didn’t really know this boy, not yet. 

But Eddie nodded again, curls springing, bangs falling into his eyes with the movement and you were closer again, knees brushing, toes of your shoes touching his in the sand. 

“Totally,” he told you solemnly. “Was gonna be a whole thing, we had the meet cute, right?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling, a lovely ache that reached your chest. You nodded, aiming to look as serious as the boy did but failing miserably. You remembered the way you’d slammed into each other, morning sun and a tumbling in your stomach that you didn't want to acknowledge. “Oh, of course,” you agreed. 

“And then we were gonna spend all summer doing that totally annoying ‘will they, won't they’ thing, y’know? Maybe a couple of almost kisses, an interrupted moment or two—”

“—wow, you’re a real romantic, huh?”

Eddie ignored you, but his smile grew bigger. “—but I guess we’re gonna have to change up the script. Start off as friends, do that slow burn kinda shit.”

“We are?” You hated that you were still playing along. You hated that you were so close to the boy, that you liked the way he smelled, like smoke and cologne and cheap beer and the way the lake smelled at night. “Do I need to learn lines?”

Eddie’s grin changed to something softer, gaze falling from your eyes to your lips and back again, his cheeks pink and his dimples deepening. He shook his head. “Nah, you’re a natural.”

Eddie was all pink cheeks and soft smiles, honey brown eyes and curls that made him seem like he’d just rolled out of bed. But he was looking at you like a new friend, a new something and the smell of campfire smoke and damp moss was the new scent of home. It clung to Eddie like it did you and it made your brain a little fuzzy, it made you forget about home and ruined plans and nine to five jobs in brick buildings and boys who broke your heart. 

This summer tasted like cheap beer and it felt like sand in your shoes, like sunburnt cheeks and a new kind of boy who seemed to like to make you smile. 

For the second time that day - your very first day at Camp Upside Down - you were struggling to remember why swearing off boys had seemed like such a good idea. 

I need you to need me. 

The kids arrived that Saturday and brought chaos with them. 

They poured out of the out of service school buses, sunshine yellow amongst the trees, parents cars filling up the usually empty parking lot. There was luggage everywhere, backpacks abandoned on benches and at the foot of trees, forgotten about as friends greeted old friends. 

Chrissy had been right, it was loud. The sounds of the forest drowned out by shouts and chatter, the overlap of parents yelling at their kids about the importance of vitamins and bug spray, all whilst Hopper, Murray and Nancy stood near the unlit fire and tried to yell out names. 

It was a little mad and you were clutching your own clipboard, a list of kids on it that you’d never met before and suddenly you were terrified that the bunch of preteens you were responsible for keeping alive would hate you.

The kids ran rampant, already hanging from tree branches and trading god knows what from the hidden depths of their backpacks and Christ, someone was blasting ‘Sex Machine’ by James Brown from a boombox no adult could actually find within the crowd. 

As if he could sense your panic, Eddie appeared at your elbow. He greeted you with the same smile he had on the first day, that slow, soft spread of his lips that made you feel too warm. His hair was pulled back today, a haphazard bun that kept the heat away from his curls and you could see more of his face; strong jaw, the slants of his cheekbones, the line of his neck. He wore the same staff shirt as you, long sleeves rolled to the elbow with his name printed on the front of his chest and there were a few patches sewn underneath. 

A guitar, a skull and crossbones and a small teddy bear. 

You grinned, reaching a finger out to poke at the last one. “Cute,” you said in lieu of a greeting. 

Eddie frowned, or at least you think he tried to. His lips were turned up at the corners, nose scrunched as he batted your hand away with no force behind it. He was standing close, close enough that you could smell the shampoo he must have used that morning, close enough that you could hear him over the roar of the camp.

“You couldn’t have noticed the more metal ones, huh, sweetheart?” he acted offended, chin tucked to his chest so he could peer at the red guitar stitched near his name. 

“Not a chance,” you laughed and Eddie lifted his head at the sound, gaze landing on your mouth as if he could see your happiness. “Why the bear?”

“Because--” Eddie hummed, scanning his list of names before finding the culprit on your own sheet. “--This little guy called me Teddy for his first two summers.” He pointed to a name on the bottom of your paper, someone called Dustin Henderson. 

“Even cuter,” you told him and he shrugged, cheeks pink and seemingly enjoying your attention. 

Eddie stretched, all faux bravado and charm his side brushing your own and you tried hard not to stare at the way his shirt lifted, a slice of bare skin peeking out between it and his jeans. “I know,” he sighed dramatically, like it was a hardship. “Fallen in love with me yet?”

You snorted, an awful noise that should’ve made your cheeks flush with heat but Eddie only grinned wider. 

“Not yet,” you told him and you rolled your eyes when the boy grabbed at his chest with two hands, as if your rejection wounded him. 

“There’s still time,” his reply was quiet and close to your ear, a brush of a stray curl over your cheek that made you shiver. “Anyway, what hellspawn have you been left with? Need help?”

You were grateful for both the change of subject and the assistance, handing Eddie your clipboard when he held out his hand. He chuckled at the list and nodded to himself, scanning through the names before giving it back to you and smiling kindly. 

“You’re gonna be fine,” he told you, “you’ve got a good bunch.”

You blew out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, smiling back at him, “yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” the boy assured and he nudged your arm with his elbow, squinting through the sun and the mess of loud colours at the kids that swarmed the main camp area. “And if they give you any trouble, you can just tell them your friend Eddie will sort them out.”

His words warmed you more than they should and the word ‘friend’ sounded lovely on his lips. 

“Friend?” 

Eddie peered down at you from behind his bangs, curls hanging messily in front of his eyes and it made him look a little younger than he was. There was that smile again, the wide, slow stretch of his lips and it was warmer than the sun, the summer, the June heat lingering even in the early morning hour.

He looked at you as if you’d told him a joke and he scoffed, “uh, yeah? This summer romance has to start somewhere, sweetheart.” He said it lightly, prettily, soft enough that you didn’t really want to correct him.

Besides, he was joking. Wasn’t he?

But then he was gone, reappearing ten minutes later with a gaggle of kids that were apparently a part of your group, smiling triumphantly when you visibly sagged with relief. The campers were still chattering, but they dutifully raised one hand and yelled out some sort of confirmation when you called out their names. 

Dustin Henderson.

Mike Wheeler.

Maxine Mayfield.

Erica Sinclair.

Janie Evans.

Adam Johnstone.

Eddie was walking back into the crowd to find his own kids just as Maxine was telling you that you were to call her Max and only Max. In fact, the redhead pointedly informed you she’d ignore you if you called her anything else. But you caught the boy’s gaze just before he disappeared, returning his wave with your own raised hand and you mouthed a quick ‘thank you.’

He winked and then he was gone, swallowed up by campers, parents with bags of medication and inhalers, lists of allergies and yells of the yearly battle of who had the top bunk.

—————

The second week went as quickly as the first, the kids were happy to get to know you, each one nosy and inquisitive, challenging and entirely too entertaining. You spent the afternoons in one of the wooden cabins by the lake, sheltered from the heat of the sun and covered in paint and glitter, guiding the campers through crafting sessions and hoping Max didn’t glue anyone else’s hand to a table. 

(Mike was still cursing a small chemical burn and Murray had insisted you could handle it, ‘cause the man admitted he was quite frankly, terrified of the young girl.)

Breakfasts were rushed in the mess hall, a noisy start to every morning but you got to say hi to Robin as she slid you extra strawberries in your yoghurt and Nancy always saved you a seat beside her and Jonathan. Every now and then lunches could be had in solace, a sandwich and a stolen carton of OJ eaten at the lake, the sun making the water glitter, toes dipped in the shallows. 

You got your bearings quickly, six days in and able to navigate the forest easily enough, from the gym hall to the last of the kids' bunks. You got used to the noise of the tannoy each morning, the moss that grew on almost everything you touched, the ever present smell of chlorine, sunscreen and bug spray. 

It was best at night, you found, when the kids were asleep - or at least pretending to be - when all the lanterns and torches were off, when the stars were the brightest thing around and you could find fireflies by the shoreline. 

And then there was the walk back to your cabin after dinner was done and the benches were cleared, after you and Steve had taken your turn at hosting story time around the fire pit and Robin’s s’mores had been demolished. 

Most of the kids were sent to their cabins for down time, to play cards, read books, share mixtapes and swap the candy they’d hoarded from home. Some went to Nancy for summer school classes, learning Spanish and Calculus to make up for failed grades. 

Others went to the cabin near your own, a small wooden structure that leaked out sounds and songs, guitar and piano and sometimes drums - some pretty, some questionably out of tune. But if you timed it just right, you’d walk by as the last of the kids were leaving, guitars on their backs and drumsticks in their hands, leaving Eddie on the small porch, lit up by the lamp inside. 

And this night, you’d strolled by in the evening heat, warmth still lingering in the air that smelled like cedar and leftover smoke, passing Dustin and his guitar on the pathway. The young boy stopped you with an excited grin, sheet music in his hand and he pointed out each new chord that he was able to play.  

It was easy to get caught up in his joy, his pride and you gushed over Dustin as he did his guitar. But you couldn’t ignore the feeling of eyes on your back, a heat that didn’t come from summer that was still trapped in the night. 

When you sent Dustin off after messing up his curls with an affectionate hand, you turned to find Eddie, just like you knew you would. He was leaning on the porch railing, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, an amber glow in the dark. 

He wiggled his fingers at you in a wave, a smile hidden behind the smoke he breathed out. His curls were loose and wild, his staff shirt swapped out for a Metallica tee that was cut shorter across his stomach. More skin flashed between his top and his jeans and you couldn’t help the way your gaze faltered, looking down. 

“Hey, new girl,” Eddie greeted and his voice was low and raspy from shouting intrusions at his students over the thrashing of bass drums and cymbals. 

The air around you buzzed with cicadas and something else, something unknown but not unwanted, fizzed alongside it. 

“Hey, city boy,” you called back and you felt admired from where you stood, Eddie a little above you on the porch, towering and broad and pretty. “Lessons over?”

Eddie grinned and stubbed out the cigarette against the wood, swinging himself around the post to come a little closer. He lingered by the door, hands shoved in his pockets. “Don’t have to be,” he smiled. 

You told yourself it would be rude to not follow him, that friends could hang out and it didn’t matter that you thought he was too pretty for his own good. It didn’t matter that you liked his curls or his tattoos or the way he smiled at you each morning, it didn’t matter that you liked his silly teddy bear patch or the way he chased the younger kids around camp with a stupid ‘monster voice.’ 

It didn’t matter. No boys. That was your rule. 

You could spend time with him, you could chat, hang out, maybe steal a smoke and listen to some music. You didn’t have to kiss him. You didn’t. 

You didn’t. 

The inside of the cabin was different from the larger one they held the main music workshop, the neat shelves of percussion instruments and chalkboard of music notes swapped for low light and a couple of chairs, a beanbag in the corner, a drum kit stacked by the door and some guitars and amps on an old paisley patterned rug. 

It smelled like Eddie’s cologne, a little like smoke and rain, and there really, really wasn’t a lot of space. Eddie gestured to the chair across from him, sliding a tin out from underneath one of the amps stacked against a wall and he wiggled it at you.

“Can I interest you?”

You nodded with a grin, dropping down onto the chair and relishing in the way silence hugged the camp again. If you listened carefully enough, you could hear the lake lap at the shore, water against the moored kayaks and the whispers of the kids through open cabin windows. And then there was the flicker of a lighter, the sizzle of something burning and Eddie sighed, slow and soft.

“Long day?” you asked him, leaning in a little to take the joint he offered you and you tried really hard to not think about his lips when you place it between your own.

Eddie hummed, watching the way you took a drag, not as long and deep as his, but he smiled when you managed to blow the smoke to the ceiling without coughing. He was stretched out lazily on the chair that looked more suited to the kids than his lean frame and his spread knees almost knocked against your own.

“You could say that. Been chasin’ kids all day after Billy slept in and didn’t turn up for his hiking group and Hop’s been riding my ass about getting extra sign ups,” Eddie took the roll up back from you and smiled, looking at you from under his lashes in a way you’d become familiar with. “S’lookin’ up now, though.”

You tried to hold his gaze, you really tried. But those big, brown eyes still managed to pierce right into your soul and it made you dizzy, it made you feel too warm. You huffed out a shy laugh and ducked your chin, eyes on the floor just for a second - enough for you to try to collect yourself.

“Are you flirting with me, Munson?” you didn’t sound as bold as you wanted to, your words coming out softer, a little breathier.

But maybe it worked all the same, ‘cause Eddie had turned pink and was hiding behind his curls, joint forgotten about. He brought his fingers to his lips instead, rings glittering in the low light and he looked thoughtful, like he was deciding what to say.

“I’m trying,” he chuckled, “but honestly, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

You wanted to tell him it was working anyway, that he didn’t even need to try. ‘Cause it had been a week at Camp Upside Down, a week of knowing him and you were already too far gone on his charm and his hair and his smile and his teddy bear patch and-- 

“You remember my rule, right?” you said instead, trying to smile about it, like you weren’t cursing yourself and your ex for making you so opposed to even trying with another boy. 

“Mmm,” Eddie hummed and nodded, bringing the half burned joint back to his lips so he could relight it. “You mean your ‘no boys, no fun, no summer fling’ rule?”

He grinned, smug.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have fun,” you protested. “I’m just-- planning on staying away from anything that can break my heart.”

The tone in the cabin shifted, the air in the small space becoming a little heavier but you didn’t feel suffocated. In fact, when Eddie stubbed out the joint in one of his empty coffee mugs and leaned onto his knees, you didn’t feel the need to do anything but move closer too. Your foot nudged his and one side of his mouth quirked up into a small smile, his eyes careful on you.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly. 

You shrugged half heartedly and watched the way the lights of the camp slowly started to switch off, one by one, until you and Eddie were the only ones still bathed in warmth. “Not much to tell,” you murmured, “not without sounding like a cliche.” 

Eddie’s knee nudged against your own, deliberate this time, and it made you look over at the boy. He was smiling, kind and so lovely. 

“I don’t mind cliches, remember?”

So you sucked in a breath and told him about life in Port Austin, how there were only really a few parks, the lake and a farmers market to look forward to on Sundays. You spoke about your job at Murphy’s Bakery on West Spring Street, how you volunteered at the gallery on weekends because you loved paintings and watercolours and wanted to go to an art school when you could afford it. You dropped your voice and tried to keep your tone light when you told him about the boy that stole your heart when you were fourteen and how he promised you the world when you were eighteen.

You really wished you still had the joint when you huffed out a laugh that held no humour and whispered how you found him in bed with a girl you used to be friends with when you were nineteen. 

And then there was another year and a half of your mom trying to make you stay with him because his parents ran the town committee and how were they supposed to show face when you made such a scene in their yard? And ‘didn’t you want to get married? Didn’t you want to settle down and have a family? Did you really want to have to start again? Is art school really a productive use of your time?’

Eddie, for the most part, stayed silent as you spoke, only frowning when necessary. And when you were done and your cheeks were a little damp and you sniffed without meaning to, the boy slid his foot along yours and held it there, the silence deafening. Night had finally set and the air smelled like oncoming rain and the remnants of smoke and Eddie Munson offered you his hand.

You wondered what it meant, you wondered what to do but when you looked at his face, his expression was soft and kind and open. You took it, palm sliding against his own and his skin was warm and rough, rings cold, fingers littered with guitar string calluses and they curled around you.

His hand was so much bigger than your own but when he gave it a squeeze, it was the most gentle thing you’d felt. You sucked in a breath and felt it stutter and hitch in your chest, gaze finding his in the low light and he smiled at you, a little sadder than before. 

“I’m really sorry that happened,” he whispered. 

It was nothing but sincere, the way he said it. Sweet and lovely and quiet, and god, you believed him. So you sniffed again, a little embarrassed and you wiped at your cheeks and eyes with your free hand - you didn’t dare take your other one from Eddie, not yet. 

You didn’t bother with the usual responses, none of the ‘it’s not your fault’s’ or ‘it’s alright.’ 

“Thank you,” you said instead, just as softly as Eddie had spoke, your smile a little watery. “M’sorry… I really didn’t mean to blurt all that out. You didn’t have to listen to it.”

Eddie’s smile was soft and understanding, and it made you so ache. He was looking at you with those big, brown eyes, shining with kindness and he was bold enough to not look away when you stared back. In fact, it only made him grin wider. 

So you had to be the one to break the moment, break the spell, gaze shifting to the wooden cabin floor and you let out a sigh that felt too loud for the space. You sniffed one last time and dabbed your fingers under your eyes, erasing any evidence of upset. You tapped a foot against Eddie’s converse, your toe touching the doodles he’d inked out along the sole. 

“What about you?”

Eddie eyes you somewhat suspiciously, corners of his lips lifted in a shy smile and without the joint, he started to twist his rings around each finger. You tried not to watch, breath caught in your throat ‘cause his hands were big and wide, his fingers long andandand—

“What about me?” Eddie asked. 

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling, “we can’t all be hiding out in the middle of the forest ‘cause a guy broke our heart, right?” You blew out the breath you’d been holding and tried to act normal. 

“How presumptuous of you, sweetheart,” Eddie’s grin was wicked and it made you flush, heat travelling from your cheeks to your neck. “But I guess you’re right, I’m just here for the money.” The boy swung a leg over the arm of his chair, slumping down low and he tipped his head back lazily, watching you from under his lashes. “And I s’pose the kids are alright.”

“You don’t wanna be hanging out in the city each summer?” You asked him, hoping you didn’t sound too nosy. The idea of a city as large as Philadelphia was foreign to you. “Aren’t you missing out on concerts and stuff?”

Eddie hummed and smiled at you in a way that made you feel shy, like he thought you were all kinds of cute. “And stuff, yeah,” Eddie agreed but then he was pulling at the ring on his thumb, a large skull and his brows furrowed. “It’s not as exciting as you’d think. It’s just my uncle and I - Wayne - we’re not exactly living the high life downtown, you know?”

You didn’t say anything, you just leaned in a little, silently coaxing the boy to keep speaking. 

“My mum left when I was pretty young,” Eddie explained, “don’t remember her all that much, not really, sometimes it’s easier when I see a photo or something. She dropped me with Wayne and just… didn’t come back.” 

Eddie sucked in a breath. “The dude that got her pregnant didn’t even hang around to see me being born, apparently,” he snorted but his laugh was humourless. “So he doesn’t get the title of dad.”

“That’s fair,” you replied quietly. 

“We didn’t have much money when I was growing up,” the boy continued. “Still don’t, I guess. But I remember being, like eleven, and really wanting to go to summer camp. I was obsessed with the idea of climbing trees and learning new shit in the middle of nowhere.” 

Eddie’s voice was lifting, gaining back that happy undertone and he was smiling again, a little shy, but it was there. His eyes glittered as he looked at you. 

“Wayne couldn’t afford it but he would take me to the park and create these treasure hunts for me - hell, he taught me how to play guitar too, never yelled at me once and Christ, he should’ve, I used to annoy the shit out of that old man as soon as he got home from work.”

You laughed and Eddie beamed, eyes meeting in the brief silence and the summer air felt warmer than ever, the open door seemingly incapable of letting in what little breeze there was. 

“So I guess I like it here,” Eddie admitted, “as much as I need the money too. I wanna help Wayne out, y’know? But it’s nice to be able to do it somewhere like this.” The boy gestured to the small room with its tower of amps and carpet of wires and sheet music like it was home. 

You leaned onto your elbows, close enough to the boy that you could tap your fingertips to his knee, once, twice, a small smile on your face that reached your eyes and Eddie thought it was lovely, the way you looked at him like he had every ounce of your attention.

“I think that’s a really nice reason to be here,” you told him.

And god, Eddie wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you really, really badly - ‘cause your hair smelled good and your eyes were real pretty and he was damn sure you were looking at his lips the same way he was looking at yours. But he was so aware of the heartache you had just shared with him, your self appointed rule of ‘no boys,’ and Eddie Munson was very much a boy. 

Maybe even more man than boy, you’d argue. And perhaps that was worse.

So instead he pulled back and your hand dropped from his knee and it was enough to make him miss you. Eddie looked at you thoughtfully, head tilted, smile shy and his cheeks were still tinged pink and all of it was awfully endearing. You cleared your throat, suddenly self conscious and Eddie stood.

“C’mon, sweetheart, lemme walk you to your cabin.”

It was easy to say yes. It was even easier to walk close enough to Eddie that your shoulder bumped into his bicep, arms pressed together and hands painfully apart. 

You whispered and laughed as you followed him through the forest, down the narrow trails that criss crossed through the camp like heartstrings. And when the ground got a little uneven and the night was too dark to see the roots that snuck out from the forest floor, Eddie’s hand cupped your elbow and everything about his touch was warm and rough and electrifying. 

The camp was quiet and it seemed like the world was made just for the two of you, the lake sitting like glass on your right and the soft silence of the woods and the trees on your left. 

He was pretty in the moonlight. Prettier when he stood at the bottom of your cabin steps with his hands behind his back as he smiled and said goodnight, like he couldn’t and wouldn’t trust himself to move closer to your door. 

‘Cause standing outside on a porch in the dark with a pretty boy surely led to a goodnight kiss, didn’t it? 

Didn’t it?

And just before you closed your door, on the moon and the forest and the boy, Eddie called out to you by your name and hid his grin behind his curls, rings glittering in the low light. 

“Happy first week at camp, sweetheart,” he told you softly, sweetly and you grinned in return. “M’happy to have you as a friend.”

Your heart stuttered and dipped at his words, a pretty warmth spreading over your chest and cheeks and you were ready to reply in like. And then:

“Just don’t, y’know, yell at me when you do fall in love with me.”

You barked out a laugh and hid your grin behind your door, too big and too wide to let him see, because goddamn it, he was getting to you too easily. 

“I’ll be sure to keep the yelling to a minimum,” you told him, voice mild and too casual. 

Eddie shrugged, still smiling lazily, “it’s inevitable.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, the rejection softened by the way you grinned too, eyes fond and stuck on him. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

—————

“She makes me—” Eddie let out a strangled noise that ended in a sigh and Steve frowned. “I feel— fuck.”

“Use your big boy words, Eds,” Steve commented mildly and from behind him, lying on the boy’s bed, Hawkins flipped a page of her magazine and snorted. 

Eddie has scrambled back to his cabin after standing before your closed door for a few seconds too long, eyes fond, his smile dopey and his heart beating a little too fast.  

And it was like the forest knew how he felt ‘cause the insects buzzed a little louder and there was something in the air that made it feel like a storm was on its way. He found Steve at the desk they shared, headphones around his neck and music playing quietly through static. His girlfriend was on his bed, flat on her stomach and too busy with her reading to really look up at Eddie, but she seemed thoroughly amused by the whole situation. 

“You know that song? The cheesy one? The one that’s like ‘I can’t fight this feeling anymore?’ That one?”

Steve blinked, staring at Eddie for a second before he smothered a smile with his hand. He coughed, hiding a laugh. “REO Speedwagon?” 

Eddie threw himself onto his bunk and whined, dragging his palms over his face. “Yes,” he replied mournfully. “Every time I see her it’s like that song plays and the wind picks up and everything is in slow motion.”

“Does she suddenly have wings too?” Steve countered. 

“Fuck you.”

Hawkins laughed again and instead of flipping another page, she groaned and stretched out, moving lazily to the desk chair that Steve occupied, throwing herself down onto her boyfriend’s lap. 

“Have I missed something or is there a reason you’re not asking her to hang out?” The girl was staring at Eddie earnestly, one of her hands buried in the hair at Steve’s neck. 

“We do hang out,” Eddie protested. “We just did.”

Hawkins rolled her eyes at the same time Steve did and Eddie wondered if being in love with someone made you as annoying as them. 

“Like an actual date, Munson.” She shrugged and gave him a smile that told Eddie she knew she was being annoying. “Some people brush their hair for it, maybe wear jeans without holes in the knees.”

Eddie huffed and let himself roll across his bed, face squished to his pillows to muffle his low groan of despair. For good measure, he kicked his feet against the mattress too. Finally, he resurfaced, cheeks pink and a little downturned and he said to his friends a little mournfully:

“She doesn’t date. Or, I guess, she doesn’t want to date.”

Steve looked perplexed. “Why?”

Eddie heaved himself up and sat against the wooden headboard, kicking his sneakers off until they thudded to the floor. “Uh, there was a shitty ex,” he explained. “Which I totally get… I just wish— I don’t know.”

Hawkins threw a pen at him, soft enough that it barely bounced off of his thigh but Eddie still sent her a look of offence. 

“Ow.”

“Shut up,” the girl huffed. “You better not be pestering her, Eds, if she said she’s not interested—”

“I’m not!” Eddie defended himself. “I’m not. I just like to remind her that she’ll eventually fall in love with me. Eventually.”

Steve choked on a laugh and tried to cover it when his girlfriend frowned at him. 

“Eddie!”

“What?” The boy answered petulantly. “I’m not serious about it,” Eddie lied, “I’m being, like, totally cute, s’fine.”

His two friends levelled him with a stare. 

“And besides! I like hanging out with her. She’s cool. And pretty and funny and she— it’s fine,” he repeated, almost to himself. “We’re just friends.”

Despite the conviction Eddie said it with, neither of the three people in the cabin believed him. 

I’d love you to love me. 

The third week brought a split lip, a sprained wrist and thunderstorm that lasted two days

The kids were more than antsy with having to spend most of their time indoors as the rain flooded the camp grounds, the banks of the lake tested as the water kept rising and the winds shook the trees. Leaves lived permanently in the air, whirling on the harsh gales, branches scratching at cabin windows like the soundtrack of a bad scary movie. 

So some activities doubled up, with more than the normal amount of campers crammed into cabin classrooms instead of being out on the lake or taking hikes into the mountains. 

It’s why you and Nancy were nearing your limit with over forty kids inside the arts centre, the summer air still humid enough to make the room sticky and heavy, to make everyone cranky and uncomfortable. The rain of the metal roof was a musical reminder of how there was no chance of escape. 

There were wars over glue sticks, more paint on the floor than on any paper and half way through the activity block, Argyle squelched in with another fifteen kids, all soaking wet and clutching wooden bird boxes in various stages of completion. 

“Cabin four is leaking, my dudes,” he explained with a smile. 

And that’s how Max tripped over Will’s bird feeder, how she slipped on some spilled watercolours and went careening into a kid named Josie. Josie had wire framed glasses that were entirely too big for her tiny head and Max’s lip got caught and split on the corner of them. 

With blood dripping down her chin and a smattering of colours on her bare knees and jean shorts, she looked a little startled, eyes wide at the red that came away when she wiped her fingers over her mouth. 

But Mike Wheeler was fourteen years old and a boy, which meant that Mike didn’t really know how to act in public yet and when he laughed at Max, the girl responded by shoving him into a shelf full of paint cans and pots of glitter. 

So the classroom was in chaos, Will was mourning his broken bird feeder, Max was bleeding and enraged and Mike was clutching his wrist that he claimed was broken all while pink and lilac glitter poured from his hair. 

When the tannoy rang out at one o’clock, you sighed in relief and watched as the kids ran out the door towards the mess hall, the smell of pizza pockets and macaroni and cheese making the campers scamper happily through mud filled puddles and towards the large building. 

Argyle wandered out after them, slow and lazily, like the rain that still poured didn’t really bother him and he didn’t seem to care that much when Dustin jumped into a puddle at his side and splashed mud up his slacks. 

You and Nancy worked diligently to clean up the mess left behind, crawling under tables to retrieve forgotten paint brushes and pens that were missing lids. But you’d barely managed to make a dent in the chaos before Hopper’s voice crackled through the tannoy system. 

“Can Hawkins report to the office, please,” the gruff voice was muffled between static. “—hit, Hawkins one, the good one, the first one… Nancy. Can Nancy report to the office.”

The girl rolled her eyes as she stood but there was a fondness there that told you she didn’t really mind, years of working for Hopper making her more than familiar with his bad habit with remembering names. 

“Pretty sure he wants to go over next week's schedule,” Nancy told you, brushing glitter from her knees. “I’ll be as quick as I can, okay? Sorry to leave you with all of this.” 

The girl did look regretful, brows pinched as she gestured to the mess around the room that only seemed to grow as more paint leaked out from tipped over pots. 

You shook your head and smiled, “it’s fine, don’t worry. I’m alright on my own, mess hall duty can't be that much tidier, right?” 

Nancy snorted a quiet laugh and hummed in agreement, “put it this way, lunch time clean up is usually reserved for punishments.”

“Poor kids,” you mused, crawling over to scoop up a fallen bucket of stickers and felt sheets. 

“Oh, not the kids,” Nancy smiled wryly. “Just ask Steve or Hawkins, I’m sure they’d love to tell you.”

Leaving you confused, the girl left, clipboard in hand and you watched out of the rain streaked window as she ran across camp, daintily avoiding the muddy puddles that were already getting larger as the storm rolled on. So you stayed on the floor, bare knees a little cold on the old linoleum and you were swearing softly at a bright blue patch of paint that didn’t seem to want to budge. 

You didn’t hear the door open again, not over the sound of the rain hammering down on the roof. In fact, you didn’t hear anything until someone let out a low whistle and started to speak. 

“Unless one of the little demons suddenly got real talented, you weren’t kidding about art school, huh?”

You narrowly missed bumping your head on the table edge as you shot up at the sound of Eddie’s voice, heart hammering and stomach flipping in that way you were still trying to ignore. 

The boy was perched against the edge of one of the small tables, legs crossed at the ankles and a too big sweater swallowing him whole. He looked cosy, the cotton a deep maroon and it had the camp logo on the chest, a small tear at the collar and leftover spots of rain over the shoulders. Eddie held up a notepad that you thought you’d placed face down, but he was showing you your own drawings. 

“Architecture,” Eddie was scanning over the sketches of buildings and parkways, tiny trees inked out in black, dotted with what little green paint you could sneak from the kids. “I didn’t expect that.”

You blinked at him, still kneeling on the floor with glitter on your palms, paint on your knees. You lifted a hand and brushed back your hair, blowing out a breath with how flustered you suddenly felt. The large cabin felt warmer than ever and the rain only seemed to get louder. 

It felt like the forest belonged to only the two of you. 

“Uh, yeah.” You nodded awkwardly, feeling shyer than you expected at the sight of your work in Eddie’s hands. It was hardly a portfolio, just a few quick sketches you were able to manage between squabbles over paintbrushes and stolen pens, but it was something. “Most people don’t.”

“You’re good,” Eddie replied and his voice was the most serious you’d heard it. But he was still smiling, corners of his mouth lifted as he scanned over the paper, pinky finger tracing the outline of a building that had wild ivy growing up the brick. “Really good. So, art school, huh?”

You nodded and clambered to your feet as gracefully as you could, leaning against the table across from the boy. If you stretched out your legs enough, the toes of your sneakers almost touched his boots.

“That’s the plan,” you said and gestured to the camp in all its messy glory, mud and rain and paint and glitter. “I’m hoping this place can get me enough cash to even consider it.”

Eddie placed the book back on the desk with the same care you’d watched him handle his guitars with and the sight of it made your chest ache. 

“Which one?” 

The question made your brow furrow, ‘cause so many other people in your life had asked the same question - albeit with a lot more exasperation and condescension than Eddie had. But you gave him the same answer you’d given your parents and your senior year guidance counsellor and shit, even your ex. 

You have a half shrug, eyes to the floor and picked at a fingernail. “I don’t really know yet.” You looked up at the boy and found him looking right back at you, brown eyes soft and warm. “To be confirmed.”

Eddie nodded slowly, pushing off the table and shoving his hands into the pocket on the front of his sweater. He stretched it down over his hips, grinned at you playfully and the mood inside the cabin lifted considerably, like he’d meant it to. 

“You know,” he mused, “there’s a great art school in Philly. One of the best, in fact.” Eddie raised his brows at you suggestively, all whilst doing his best to play coy - you weren’t sure how he managed it, but he pulled it off. 

You let out a laugh, rolling your eyes at him in a way that now seemed to be routine. “Is that right?” You asked him, putting on the same overly casual voice he had. “How strange, isn’t that where you live?”

Eddie gasped, ripping a hand from his pocket to grab at his chest instead, damp curls bouncing as he took another step towards you. “Holy shit, you’re right, I do live there.”

You were grinning, not that you had any control over it and Eddie was beaming right back, moving so he could stand in front of you, finally toe to toe. He kicked softly at your sneaker, looking at you fondly from under his lashes. 

“What a coincidence,” he murmured softly.

“You’re flirting with me again,” you replied just as quietly and you tried to sound admonishing but your words came out just a little too breathily. 

He was too close. 

You watched him lick at him bottom lip, tongue peeking out for just a half second but it kept your heart ticking on a too fast beat for much, much longer. 

“If I was flirting,” Eddie started to say, speaking slowly, voice a drawl, as if he were picking his words carefully. “I’d tell you about this nice little spot round the corner from mine. How I’d take you there between classes, split a cheese steak and let you show me all your badass work.”

You were entranced, eyes bush tracing the shapes his lips made as he spoke, the dimple that came and went on his left cheek when he tried not to smile between words. 

“You’d graduate in the summer…” the boy mused and his voice picked up a little, lips stretching out into that wide smile you’d come to love. “We could totally have a fall wedding. I was thinking about early October?”

The spell was broken and you barked out a laugh, a hand shoving at the boy’s shoulder and Eddie grinned at the sound, letting you tip him backwards before he caught himself and acted wounded. 

“You’re an idiot, Eddie Munson,” you told him but there was affection laced behind the jab and Eddie could hear it, his chest swelling at the sound. 

“But autumn tones suit me so well,” he quipped back and he laughed when you shook your head and moved past him, hiding your amusement by picking up ripped paper that hadn’t quite made it to the trash. 

“What a shame, I think I’m a spring,” you sighed dramatically and you didn’t have to look over your shoulder to know the boy was grinning. You could feel it, it lit up the room, it made you feel warm. “Guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

Eddie snorted and pushed himself back onto the table, narrowly avoiding a wet splat of blue paint. “Well, if you won’t come to Philadelphia, how about Chrissy’s cabin tonight? Staff get together.” Eddie enticed, legs swinging. “More shit beer, Steve’s awful taste in music and probably some weed if Jonathan and Argyle manage to get into town after dinner.”

“More shit beer?” You repeated, gasping dramatically as you made your way back over to him. You tapped at his boot with your shoe, like you weren’t able to help yourself from reaching out to touch him in some way. “How shitty?”

“Like, the shittiest beer you’ve ever had,” Eddie replied, “very room temp, some would say warm. Definitely flat and the label probably has some questionable tagline on it.”

You were smiling and so was the boy, too warm and too close and Jesus Christ, had you been moving forward? Eddie’s boots brushed your shins and if you took another step, you’d be between his legs that he had most definitely spread for you. 

“How could I say no to that?”

Eddie shrugged, his smile all coy, cheeks a little pink and he was looking at your lips when he replied softly, “how could you say no to me?”

Your lips parted, breath caught in your chest and god, did he hear the way it hitched? Could he hear the way your heart rattled against your rib cage? Surely he could, it felt louder than the storm. 

He didn’t let you reply, not that you knew what to say, not that you could seriously articulate words. Eddie was still smiling, looking as flustered as you felt, like he hadn't meant to flirt, like he didn’t know what to do now that he had. 

 Eddie gestured to your cheek, unsure, pulling back just before he touched you. His gaze was settled on the curve of your top lip and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You have, uh, some paint,” he murmured, “little dot… just there.”

You wiped at your cheek with the back of your hand, suddenly self conscious, wondering what kid managed to splatter you with god knows what colour. You caught your lip, bringing your hand back still clean and you looked at Eddie. 

The boy still looked so unsure, a different kind of shy, but he tilted his chin and said, “c’mere.”

You weren’t sure how you heard him over the rain, the roll of thunder, the way the world outside seemed to roar for you both, like the forest was excited, waiting, watching. 

You moved, hips bumping into Eddie’s knees as he coaxed you forward, a cautious hand on your chin, holding you still so his thumb could smooth over the spot of paint, the pad of it grazing your top lip. 

Eddie’s touch was slow and soft, careful with it, his eyes lowered as he watched what he was doing and you were almost sure he was holding his breath. 

You were. 

“Got it,” Eddie whispered but his hand was still on your cheek, thumb resting on your chin and he was staring at your lips again, eyes hooded and a dark honey. 

You made a quiet noise, maybe an agreement, maybe a thanks, maybe you were just disappointed, but neither of you moved away. Your own hands rested on Eddie’s knees, soft, worn denim under your palms and Eddie murmured your name like a question, head tilting forward—

The door bounced against the wall as it opened, the wind blowing rain and some stray twigs inside, causing you to stumble backwards, your eyes as wide as Eddie’s. 

Murray was standing in the doorway, dripping wet from the rain, glasses smeared with water and he sighed, disgruntled. He flicked his arms out from his body, rain splattering to the cabin floor as he inspected both of you with suspicion. 

Nose wrinkled, he appraised you from over his thick glasses: Eddie’s pink cheeks, the way you couldn’t look at anything but the floor. 

“No,” the older man barked out, indignant. “No, I’m not doing this shit again, for Christ’s sake.”

Murray turned, leaving the way he came with no explanation to his appearance in the first place. He wrestled with the door handle, the old wood sticking in its frame and he cursed. “You’re all rampant. Goddamn kids and - Christ, this door - and their hormones, it’s like living with animals.”

The door finally shifted and slammed, shutting out Murray and the storm, the only evidence he’d been there was a puddle on the floor and some leaves that had blown in, sticking to the streaks of spilled paint. 

Eddie looked at you, heart still thudding in his chest, only to see you busy tidying once again, head ducked down so he couldn’t meet your gaze. 

Whatever had been going to happen, was over. 

—————

Unfortunately, Jason Carver was the one to open the door to Chrissy’s cabin. You hadn’t seen much of the blonde boy around camp - not that you had minded - as he spent most of his shifts at the lake and preferred to disappear into town at night with Billy. 

But he held the door as you and Robin walked in, arms full of the leftover pizza slices the other girl had managed to sneak from the kitchen as she finished dinner service.  

“New girl,” he greeted, taking the time to rake his eyes over your frame instead of helping with the Tupperware. “Buckley. Still not like dick?”

“Go fuck yourself, Carver,” Robin shot back, rolling her eyes and ushering you into the room, dumping the food onto Chrissy’s desk. She grabbed two beers from the obnoxiously large stash, passing them both to Steve to open with the car keys he fished from his pocket. 

“Shame,” Jason called back over the low music, ignoring the way Chrissy swatted at him, cheeks pink with embarrassment as she tried to get him to stop. “You and your friend could’a kept me company later.” His beady eyes settled on you, mouth curled into a smirk. “Gets cold at night, doesn’t it?”

Steve coaxed the beer back into your hand, one arm thrown around his girlfriend’s shoulders and he shook his head at you, grimacing. “Ignore him, he’s swallowed too much lake water or some shit.”

Robin took a swig of her own drink and smirked, nudging a friendly hand to Steve’s shoulder as she said, “we’re ignoring assholes now, huh, Harrington?”

There was a private joke, a hidden story you didn’t know there, and Hawkins grinned too, covering her smile with her cup. 

“His fighting days are over,” she declared, pushing a hand to the boy’s cheeks with such affection that it made you feel like you shouldn’t look. 

Steve scoffed, all false bravado. “Says who?”

His girlfriend smirked and squeezed at his chin a little firmer, just until his lips fell into a pout and she was able to tug him down to her for a kiss. “Me,” she told him as she pulled away and Steve just grinned, no argument left in him. 

“Are we talkin’ about how whipped Stevie is?” Eddie appeared at your side, a beer already in hand as he grinned and dodged the other boy’s fist, snorting when it skimmed his shoulder. 

You tried not to react when his arm brushed your own, when everything suddenly smelled like smoke and rainwater and Eddie. He hadn’t looked at you, in fact, he was actively trying not to, his curls hiding his eyes and when you turned to him just slightly, he ducked his head and took a long pull from his drink. 

“Always,” Robin replied, matter of factly and she grinned at you as if to include you in these plans. “Where have you been, anyway?”

Eddie took another swig from his beer, gulping down the amber liquid almost too enthusiastically for how shit it did actually taste. He was stalling. 

“Uh, private lesson,” he explained grimacing. He still wasn’t looking at you. “Ran a little over.”

It was a lie, it was a huge lie - you knew it - and the truth made your face burn. ‘Cause Eddie had stood frozen after Murray had left, watching you carefully from where he was still by the table, chest hammering. 

He’d been so sure you’d almost kissed him. He was almost positive you had been leaning into him the same way he tilted his chin down to you. But the door had slammed, Murray had yelled and left and the silence that had taken over was more deafening than the rain on the roof. 

So Eddie had coughed a little awkwardly and waited for you to stop cleaning up the mashed glue stick from the carpet and look at him. You’d stopped, sure. You’d even stood up from where you’d been kneeling but you didn’t quite meet the boy’s eye. And when he asked you:

“What just happened?”

You had toed at a forgotten pencil case and shrugged, your hands in the pockets of your shorts and replied, “nothing just happened, Eddie.”

And even though you still didn’t lift your gaze from the floor, Eddie had nodded, lips downturned and eyes sad, before he muttered something that sounded like ‘sure’ and left. 

You’d watched him walk away from the camp, away from the direction of the music workshop and the canon where he held his lessons. In fact, despite the rain, he walked towards the lake, his hood pulled up over his head and his hands shoved in his pockets, the maroon fabric turning darker and darker the further he got from you. 

And now he was standing next to you in the small circle you and his friends had created and he was trying so hard to pretend he couldn’t feel your bare arm pressed against his own, that he couldn’t smell the perfume he knew was yours. 

He took another gulp of his beer, lukewarm and bordering on sour and he could sense your gaze on him. He caught Steve’s eye instead and his friend quirked a brow, gaze searching between him and you, questioning. 

Eddie shook his head, an almost barely noticeable movement but you lifted your beer to your lips, making your arm brush Eddie’s and the boy went pink. 

Steve started humming the opening bars of REO Speedwagon. 

Eddie glared. 

But then Billy was pushing into the small circle, all blonde curls and sharp, blue eyes, his smile even sharper. He clapped Eddie on the shoulder and wrapped an unfamiliar arm around yours, squeezing you into his side. Across from you, Steve and Hawkins scowled, busying themself with grabbing some cold pizza slices. 

“Truth or dare,” Billy announced and he smelled like smoke and whisky, a far cry from the cheap beer everyone else had been left with. “C’mon assholes, look alive.”

Eddie shrugged the boy off and took another beer that Steve offered, eyes hard and staring at the floor as Billy kept his arm around you. You were too polite to move away, too conscious of all the eyes that were on you but you huffed out a laugh and asked:

“Truth or dare? Isn’t that kinda childish?”

Chrissy’s cabin was cast in little light, only a few lamps emitting a low, too warm glow and Billy looked positively dangerous in the shadows as he grinned at you. He tutted and moved to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your face, acting sweet for you. 

“Not the way I play it, darlin’,” he grinned, all teeth and bad intentions and from beside you, Robin pretended to gag. 

“Gross,” she muttered. 

“Revolting,” Hawkins agreed and when Billy scoffed at her, she flipped him the bird and leant against Steve, her back to his chest. 

“That’s a little mean of you, isn’t it, princess?” Billy pouted at her, “considering I’m the damn reason you two are together.” He pointed a finger at the girl and Steve, looking smug. 

The rest of the room groaned, as if Billy taking credit for this was a regular occurrence. 

Again, you felt like you were missing out on a joke that you weren’t privy to, an inside story from a summer that wasn’t yours. So you turned to Billy and raised a brow, questioning. 

“What?” You asked, just as Steve pinned Billy with a stare and said:

“Don’t call her princess.”

But Billy ignored him and kept his arm around you, grinning wider than ever and he leaned in just a little, enough for you to smell his cologne and the nicotine that stuck to his lips.

His voice was all flirt, a soft drawl that made Eddie's nostrils flare. “Haven’t you heard?” Billy asked and he looked at you like he wanted to sneak a bite, like he wanted to know what you tasted like. “I’m practically Cupid.”

The rest of the group snorted and scoffed, all varying sounds of derision but Billy ignored them and just kept smiling, looking too handsome for his reputation, all the stories you’d been told about him. 

“Got your eye on someone, Sugar? I can shoot an arrow or two, see if it sticks,” he winked and god, you didn’t mean it, you couldn’t help it. 

Your gaze flickered to Eddie and fucking hell, he was finally looking back at you too. Billy’s grin turned bigger, wider, sharper. Neon signs flashed in your head and you swore you could hear your mothers voice. Danger! Warning! Retreat!

“Well ain’t that interesting,” he smirked, finally letting go of you. He stole your beer instead, wrapped his lips around the neck and drained the rest, smirking and wiping at his mouth when Steve muttered something that sounded like, ‘fuckin’ prick.’ 

“You sweet on the new girl, huh, Munson?” Billy was outright sneering now, turning to Eddie to poke and prod until he broke.

“Get fucked, Hargrove,” Eddie replied lazily, his voice a soft drawl as he leaned against Chrissy’s desk but you could see the way his eyes narrowed, the way his shoulders were set. 

Everyone in the cabin was silent now, eyes on Eddie and Billy as the blonde boy took a step forward and smiled, baring his teeth in a way that could only be taken as a challenge. Your skin prickled. 

“Truth or dare, Teddy bear?” Billy whispered. 

“I’m not playing,” Eddie grunted back. 

“Ooh, forfeit,” Jason laughed from the door, “toilet block duty for a week, Munson, better tie your hair up.”

But neither boy listened, both Eddie and Billy still squaring up to each other, eyes narrowed and jaws set. You looked at Steve, silently asking him to do something but Steve seemed to be waiting for the exact time he needed to jump in. 

“Hey now,” Billy murmured to Eddie, all soft condescension and false friendliness. He looked back at you and licked across his bottom lip, glittering eyes giving away his true intentions. “If you don’t wanna play, I’m sure someone else will happily give her a little bit of attention.”

“Grow the fuck up, Billy,” Robin snapped and her hand slid over your wrist, guiding you towards the door. “Let’s just hang out in my cabin,” she told you softly. 

“Aw, c’mon!” Billy jeered, holding his arms out like he was surrendering. The majority of the room shook their heads at him, not ready to entertain his antics. “I’m Cupid, remember? Y’gotta trust the process.”

The music stuttered and the tape got stuck, the last few notes of whatever Blondie song fizzing with static before it stopped, just as Eddie slammed down his beer and shouldered past Billy. He walked straight towards you, his eyes on yours for what seemed like only the second time that night. 

You saw something wild in them, something new and something different. You realised then that Eddie Munson didn’t do well with being challenged, and with the way Billy was still smirking behind him, it seemed like he knew that too. 

So the thudthudthud of Eddie’s boots on the cabin floor matched your heart beat and Robin let go of your wrist as the boy approached. He’d taken his sweater off from earlier but he still smelled like the storm, like leftover rain and pine from the forest, like a burnt out campfire, a little like a new home.  

The toes of his boots touched your sneakers and you had to tilt your chin up a little to meet his gaze. He looked torn, kind of panicked, pretty in the way he always did but he’d lost the softness that he’d gazed at you with earlier, with paint on your face and glitter pressed to your palms. 

You thought he was going to kiss you. 

His eyes dropped to your lips and nobody spoke, but you heard Billy let out a huff of laughter, a dark chuckle that made your stomach dip and you weren’t supposed to let this happen, even if it was just a stupid game, ‘cause fuck — Eddie was never going to be a hangover and a bad decision you’d try to forget the next day. 

He was standing too close. 

You steeled yourself, wondering if you’d be mad if he kissed you like this. If he kissed you at all. Would you be more angry if he didn’t? This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. This wasn’t supposed to happen at all. 

You felt yourself closing your eyes, lashes soft on your cheeks, just for a second. 

And then he was gone. 

—————

Eddie was sitting outside of his cabin.

The party was long over and you’d stayed behind with Robin to help Chrissy tidy up, keeping your head down as Billy swept past, a leftover beer in his hand and a satisfied smirk on his lips as he got into a car with Jason.

And when you walked through the forest, hearing the whispers of the kids in the cabins as you passed, you noticed a tiny light on the porch steps, the orange red dot of the end of a cigarette in the dark. Eddie stood when you approached, stubbed the end of the smoke out on the railing and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Nerves rolled off of him in waves and he took a step forward, old leaves and pine cones crunching under his boots. You shook your head and kept walking, the light from your own cabin a warm glow only a few dozen feet away. 

“Hey, hey, listen,” Eddie coaxed softly, “can we talk?”

“I’m tired, Eddie,” you began, still taking slow steps towards your own home. 

(And embarrassed and confused and frustrated, but you didn’t say that.)

“We’ll talk tomorrow, yeah?” But then you made the mistake of stopping and looking back at the boy and he was all soft curls and softer eyes, sad and glittering. 

He caught your wrist, a gentle hand with careful fingers and his touch was warmer than the night. You looked down, watched his thumb rub at the back of your palm and suddenly you weren’t as sleepy as before. 

Maybe Eddie could sense the sway in you, maybe he was already a little too in tune with the way your body leaned into his. His hand slipped down, fingers skimming over your own and he wasn’t quite holding your hand but it felt just as nice, just as lovely. Eddie pinched your thumb between two of his fingers, looked up at you through his lashes and smiled, too sweet.  

“Can we talk?” Eddie tried again. “Please?”

So you nodded because it was getting harder and harder to say no to the boy, to keep away from the boy - and you knew deep down that you were more angry at yourself than at him. ‘Cause you kept breaking your own rules and you knew fine well that you would’ve let Eddie kiss you. And to be mad at him for doing exactly what you asked him to - to be friends - wasn’t fair in the slightest. 

But he was smiling now, soft and lovely, too sweet to seem real and his hand moved to cover your own and it left you wondering for the hundredth time: would it really be that awful to break some rules?

Eddie led you away from the cabins, hand in yours, fingers tangled in a way that made your skin feel too warm and you were both tripping through the trees in the dark until Hop’s office lights lit up the ground and you could see Eddie’s van parked a just away from the edge of the clearing. 

He fished out his keys from his pocket, wiggled them in the air and quirked his brows. His hand was still in yours and you wondered if he could feel your heartbeat through your fingertips, if you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you. 

Earnest, hopeful, with too much fondness. 

“Wanna get out of here?” Eddie asked quietly. 

You chanced a look at the cabin behind you, the warm glow from the window letting you both know that Hopper was still up, maybe even Murray and Joyce. 

“Are we allowed?”

Eddie smiled, a soft grin that made your stomach flip ‘cause it was full of nothing good, all mischief and trouble. The night seemed so much warmer, like it was filled with more than just summer, more than the linger heat of the sun. You wondered if it was possible for another person to make you feel like this, like teenagers at your high school locker, nerves like the anticipation of a first kiss behind an oak tree, a passed note that you kept in your drawer for years and years and years. 

He shrugged, too nonchalant. “No,” came the reply. 

You bit your lip to try and hide the grin you gave back, unprepared for the feeling of complete and utter excitement that clawed at your stomach at his words. Eddie’s hand tightened around yours. 

“Okay,” you whispered back. 

It felt like a daydream when Eddie helped you clamber into the front of the van, the inside still stuffy and warm from the afternoon spent sitting in the sun and it smelled like him. Like coffee and rain and smoke and spice, and you grinned at the mess on the floor. An old sweater, the lanyard that was stitched with the camp's logo that only Nancy wore, wrapped around the stick shift. There was an open box of guitar picks on the console, a couple empty cans of soda, sheet music with footprints on it, one drumstick, too many cassette tapes - none in their cases - to count. 

But every inch of the space screamed EddieEddieEddie and it consumed you. You didn’t hesitate to shuffle over to the middle of the bench when the boy sat behind the wheel, close enough that your thigh almost touched his.

You shouldn’t have. 

You didn’t need to. 

You couldn’t help yourself. 

He rolled the windows down as he pulled out of the car park, the headlights off until he reached the main road and neither of you heard Hopper’s truck screeching after you. 

Despite the late hour, there was still a pink tint to the sky, barely there and only making the horizon glow, a leftover streak of colour from where the sun had sunk. The rest of the night was dark, inky black and littered with stars and when the van picked up speed, warm air funnelled through the front of the cab and it picked at you and Eddie’s hair. 

You didn’t know where you were going. You didn’t ask. God, you found that you didn’t really care. 

So you let the wind cool down your sun warmed skin and you smiled when Eddie hit the button for the radio, a song coming on soft and low, an acoustic guitar and lyrics that were much sweeter than you expected. Neither of you said much, but Eddie tapped out a beat on the steering wheel and your gaze went between his profile and the trees that blurred at the side of the road. 

You drove until the wilderness became a little more tamed, until the darkness fed into streetlights and the roads got a little bigger. Toy sized towns sprung up from the forests, gas stations with two pumps, sleepy sidewalks and neon signs that flickered in the night. 

Eddie pulled up to a diner, one with wrap-around windows and red, leather booths, an aquamarine sign that flashed ‘OPEN 24/7.’ It was easy to follow him into the building, to get swallowed up by the smell of fries and coffee. The floors were a little sticky and the waitresses looked tired, the three other diners barely glancing back at you both as the bell above the door signalled your arrival. 

The boy ordered two milkshakes, one chocolate and one strawberry and he batted away your hand as you tried to push some dollar bills into his. There was a smile on his face as he did it, soft lips and soft curls and even softer eyes, and he gave no explanation as he took the large cups from over the counter and headed back outside. 

“You not letting me pay seems an awful lot like a date, Eddie,” you called out across the parking lot. 

He barely looked back at you as he headed to the van, a soft laugh caught in his throat as stood in front of the driver’s side door and grinned. When he did turn to face you, he looked like trouble, holding up the two shakes as he nodded down to his waist. 

“Grab the keys for me, sweetheart?” 

It sounded like another dare. 

You could’ve taken a milkshake from him. You really could’ve. In fact, all common sense told you that that’s exactly what you should’ve done. But you took a step forward and then another and another, toe to toe with the boy until you were both bathed under the aquamarine light, Eddie’s cheeks shades of pink and blue. 

Maybe he didn’t think you’d do it. Maybe he was only joking. 

But he held his breath and you could feel the air change when you curled your fingers around his jeans pocket, tugging a little cause the denim was too tight and Christ, you could feel the expanse of his thigh underneath when you fished for the car keys, the metal jingling in the quiet. He stared at you the entire time, sugar and strawberries filling the air and you gazed right back, chin lifted up to meet his eyes almost defiantly. 

You weren’t sure what you were trying to prove, but you were pretty sure it was the opposite of what you were supposed to be doing. 

The lock clicked and you didn’t look at Eddie as you walked to the other side, climbing back into the van that suddenly felt so much smaller than before. You kept your back to the passenger door this time, further away from the boy who was looking at you like he was scared you might take up cross country in order to get back to camp. 

He offered you both shakes, smiling and nodding when you took the strawberry with a quiet thank you. You both drank in silence for a minute or two, the parking lot emptying of what little vehicles remained and when the clock on the dash hit two, you and Eddie were alone. 

“Are you mad at me?” Eddie eventually asked, soft and a little apprehensive, looking over at you with worry in his eyes. “For not kissing you?”

Your breath shook as you let it out. 

“I mean, I didn’t know if— ‘cause you don’t want to kiss me, right? Or anybody, really, I s’pose— you have your rule and I totally get it but you seem like you’re mad at me and—”

“Eddie,” you tried to shush the boy, but your voice was too soft and too small and Eddie kept rambling. 

“—and maybe I’m crazy but in the cabin when it was raining… it seemed like you wanted to kiss me then too, but shit, maybe I’m just being optimistic, ‘cause I know you don’t wanna get involved in anything and I respect that and I’m happy to be your friend- so happy - but I don’t know what I was supposed to do—”

“Eddie.” You’d moved suddenly enough to surprise him, his words falling short as you shuffled to the middle of the bench, sitting on your knees as you gazed at him imploringly. 

You smiled around a sigh, a soft, sad noise that made Eddie’s lips turn down and you were gentle when you took his half empty cup from him, sitting it on the dash along with yours. 

“I’m not mad at you,” you explained when you turned back to him, your fingers pulling at a thread on the hem of your shirt, stomach tumbling at the thought of telling Eddie too much. “I’m pissed at myself, actually.”

Eddie’s brows shot up and a boyish confusion took over his features. He shook his head softly at you, as if to explain he didn’t understand. But he sat quietly, waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m annoyed ‘cause I think I did want you to kiss me,” you closed your eyes briefly at your admission, not wanting to see the way hope flashed across the boy’s face.  “And I shouldn’t want that ‘cause I told you I wasn’t getting involved with anyone and that’s not fair to you.”

You sighed again and it sounded even sadder, a huff of breath that hitched in the middle but you kept going, the cadence of your voice pitching higher as you rambled, the same way the boy had. 

“It’s so entirely unfair and I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of bitch who’s leading you on, ‘cause I’m not! Or at least, I don’t mean to be - fuck - and I’m sorry if I am and I don’t want this to be confusing or complicated or, or, shit I don’t know.” You took a pause to breathe, blinking at Eddie who just stared back, eyes too pretty to look away from this time round. 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” you said sullenly, as if meeting the boy before you was the worst thing in the world. Maybe it was. “And I’m sorry ‘cause I’m being real selfish, ‘cause I don’t wanna stay away from you and I like it when you call me nice things and when you meet me for breakfast and I think about ki—”

You broke off again and squeezed your eyes shut tight, like that would keep your secrets in too. And when that didn’t seem to work, you groaned and brought your hands to your face, fingertips still cold from holding your shake and you pressed them meanly over your lashes. 

“M’really sorry, Eddie.”

You heard a soft laugh, barely there and not unkind, an even quieter tsk before two strong hands wrapped themselves around your wrists and tugged gently. You let Eddie guide your palms away from your face and when you opened your eyes, he was a little closer than before. 

“You don’t have to say sorry,” he whispered. “And you’re certainly not a bitch.” 

You blinked at him, trying to keep the frustrated tears you wanted to let out at bay. 

“I like being around you too,” Eddie continued and he was looking at you in that way that made your stomach twist. “And if you only think you wanted to kiss me—”

You let out an embarrassed groan and Eddie grinned. 

“—that’s okay. I can wait until you know for certain. And if you don’t, then we can still be friends, like we are right now.”

Nothing about your relationship with Eddie felt friendly. Every look and every touch felt electric, like the air around you both knew more than you did, ‘cause it fizzed and buzzed every time he was around. It felt like something else, something more. 

“But for the record,” Eddie whispered conspiratorially, pink in the cheeks

despite the way he tried to act all theatrical for you. “I wanted to kiss you.”

You ducked your chin to your chest to try and hide the way you smiled, an embarrassing scrunch of your nose but Eddie saw and he grinned wider, you could feel it, you could sense the way the space between you turned lighter and heavier all at once. 

When you looked back up, Eddie was watching you, head tilted and curls a little messy and wild. He was still holding your wrists, his wide hands covering some of your own and you weren’t sure if he even realised. 

“I don’t know if I’m ready for something else yet,” you told him and you hated the way you sounded scared. “My last relationship was so— so shit.”

“That’s okay too, well - the first part is. The second part is definitely shitty,” Eddie said, so soft it hurt and god, you believed him. He licked his lips, nervous and unsure, parting them as if to say something else but he stopped. 

“What?” You prompted and you flipped your hands in his, palm to palm, so you were able to touch a thumb to the underside of one ring. 

“Would it be so bad?” He asked, almost too quiet to hear. “To try?”

You took a breath, held the question and the answer in your chest until it burned and you wondered if it would be. Logic ceased to exist as you thought about leaning forward and pressing your lips to Eddie’s, the idea of your mouth parting slowly against his own was enough to make heat creep up the back of your neck. 

You wondered what he’d taste like, if he’d kiss you soft, if he’d kiss you rough, like all his patience had run out and he just had to have you. You thought about his hands, if he’d be soft with them too, if he’d hold you sweet by the waist or if he’d cup your jaw and pull you closer to him. Maybe he’d make pretty sounds for you, maybe he’d groan and sigh low and sweet when your tongue touched his, maybe he’d pull away to whisper in your ear, run his mouth like you knew he was good at. 

You were leaning in. 

You didn’t even realise. 

Eddie was too. 

Hands still tangled and resting on your lap, his breath mixing with your own as his forehead touched yours. A curl tickled your cheek and when the bridge of your nose bumped softly against the boy’s, your lashes fluttered as your eyes closed and your heart was thumpingthumpingthumping. 

Your brain was yelling. It sounded like your mother, like your ex and it sounded like you, shouting at them both that you didn’t need a relationship and you didn’t need boys and how this wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Maybe you pulled back, maybe you just stopped. Or maybe Eddie just knew you better than you thought, ‘cause it had been three weeks of camp and he knew how you liked to visit the lake at least once a day, how you always woke up early and you liked it best when it rained through the night so you could sleep to the sounds of it. 

Eddie sat back in the seat, took his hands with him and left yours feeling colder than they should’ve. 

Before you could panic, before you could say sorry again and again, before the tears you felt thicken the back of your throat, Eddie smiled. He handed you back your milkshake, a little more melted than before. 

“You don’t have to kiss me,” he said gently, and his words hurt your chest but he kept talking. “You don’t have to prove anything to me - or yourself,” he added. 

He took a second to lean back in, just a little, the hand not holding his shake lifting to your face so he could push back a piece of hair that had fallen across your forehead. You think he just wanted a reason to touch you, and you realised then you’d let him do that as much as he wanted. 

“I don’t want you to kiss me if you’re not sure,” he explained. “And I don’t want to make you feel rushed or—”

“You don’t,” you interrupted and your voice felt too loud for the front of the van, for the soft quiet, the blue light and strawberry air. “You don’t make me feel like that at all, Eddie. I just— I feel…”

Scared, torn, nervous, hypocritical. 

You looked at him, sad, doe eyed and nervous, and if you chewed at your poor bottom lip any longer, Eddie was going to have to save it with gentle fingers. 

“How ‘bout this,” Eddie said soft and lovely, like a secret, “if you work out how you feel, and you work out what you want…” he trailed off, felt brave again and took your hand back in his, a thumb running over the back of it. “Come find me, yeah? Let me know.”

You nodded, fingertips pushed to his palm, across the tiny guitar string scars and rough calluses. 

“‘Cause I really like you,” he whispered. 

“I like you too,” you whispered back and Eddie smiled, wide and bright and adorably shy. 

“Good to know,” he nodded but his cheeks were flushed and he let go of your hand for the last time, curling his own back around the steering wheel. “We, uh, we better head back before Steve starts a search party for us.”

“For you, you mean,” you snorted. 

“Don’t be jealous,” the boy quipped back but he was smiling. “This is gotta be the part of the script where the van breaks down on us, right?”

You laughed again, a soft huff and sounded so fond that it made Eddie’s chest ache. You were busy clipping your seatbelt back in, your shake almost empty and wedged behind your thighs and Eddie tried not to stare, he really did.  

“And then what happens?” You asked, peering over at him, wondering if it was safe to ask, if you wanted to know. 

Eddie shrugged, gave a sort of half smile that told you he was already thinking it over. “Depends what horror movie you like best, I guess.”

You scrunched your nose and watched the lights turn Eddie from aquamarine to a too warm orange as he rolled out of the diner’s parking lot. “A horror?”

‘I thought this was supposed to be a romance,’ you wanted to say. 

You didn’t. 

“Yeah, pick your poison sweetheart,” Eddie laughed, gaining a little more speed as he left the town behind and the only light came from the moon. “Ghostface with a knife? He gets me first when I go look for help,” Eddie wiggled his brows at you theatrically. “Or how ‘bout a good old fashioned zombie mob, huh? They surround the van and I obviously sacrifice myself to save you.”

You snorted, too amused. “Obviously,” you tell him. 

“But once I’m all zombified, I turn on you,” Eddie grinned wide when you gasped, overly dramatic, just for him. “Start nibblin’ on that pretty neck like a chicken tender.”

You shake your head at him, still laughing. “You’re horrid.”

The boy shrugged, drove the van slowly through the skinny, dirt roads back into the forest. And when he stopped and killed the engine, silence settled over you both in a way it didn’t in town. Something far away chirped. 

“Yeah, I know,” he appeased. His gaze settled on you, wide and bright even in the dark, a lot more hopeful too. “But you like me.”

PART TWO

[rivangel]

Levi-isms translated from his heart<3

//taller!Reader, Levi can pick reader up, hcs, canonverse, so fucking sweet

1: "Are you blind? I’m busy.”

You moan in sheer agony from the doorway, and put on your best puppy dog eyes.

He scowls at you, or he might be just that tired. His eyes are so heavy it’s hard to tell the difference.

"But it's so cold and lonely without you. I’m even colder right now, as you can see.”

You’re not wearing pants.

Make the issue about him, and how important it is that he rests, and you get a scowl. Make it about you, and he stands up with frankly a bratty sigh, and runs his hand through his hair.

You smile sweetly as he nears. On the way, he undoes the top button of his pressed white shirt, giving you a glimpse of his adam’s apple.

you lean forward and kiss his cheek. "Missed you…”

He looks up at you, eyes softening, and ruffles your hair a little. "Ugh... So annoying…"

You care enough about me to lose sleep... I could never ask for something that you freely give up, and it drives me crazy. How can one person have this power over me, anyway?

2: He's too angry to even pace around the hospital tent. This fire rampages in his veins with his blood as lit gasoline.

He can't remain calm with your fingers clutched in your lap, broken, reduced to a mound of bandages that seem to captivate you; you refuse to look at him.

He tells himself that it's not necessarily you he's angry at, that yelling won’t mend broken bones—but he can’t contain himself.

"What the hell were you thinking!?” he blurts out. “Throwing yourself into harm's way isn’t fighting—it’s suicide for self-righteous fools. What will we do now that you’re useless?"

Why?? Why is it easy even for you to be taken away from me whether you devote your whole heart or not?—and you do. So I need you to be more careful. I can't be there all the time. What will I do to keep you alive from here? You'll cooperate with me, won't you?

I can’t believe this… but I don’t want you to be devoted; I want you to be safe.

3: You finish explaining your plan with an uncertain smile sent his way.

To be fair, it's quite the tall order to sneak into Hange's lab, but he can't see any holes in it. As long as you get in quick, Levi can have it cleaned before supper.

"Not bad. It just might work. But don't let it get to your head."

You're smart. Thanks for the help. But it’s not like I like you or anything…

4: "No worries." You beam. "I'll have them swept up in no time—with Mike's help too, of course."

Even if he tried, he couldn't smile at your confidence. There's never telling what will happen when it's a fight against the Titans.

He looks ahead, squinting through the wind whipping at his bangs. You're both coming up on the south end of the forest again. It's packed with trees that'd be perfect for setting up camp, if only it wasn't infested with Titans. Four separate squads are pushing in from each direction, with Levi's squad at the north where Mike smelled the most action.

It's risky... no surprise there. He doesn't have overwhelming positivity, but what he does have—en masse—is faith in you.

"Alright... Use your best judgment in there. Don't die. If there's a sign of anything you can't handle, don't be stupid to take it all on your own. Just shoot up a flare and someone will be on their way."

I'm sending you on your own, so I know that you're strong. You can take care of yourself. But still. Be careful, I love you.

5: “Quit resisting.”

“What’re you doing, arresting me??” you cackle as Levi lifts you off your feet. He even pins you over his shoulder while you cry out in laughter. “Baby, it was just a little more work…”

"Nope.” With hardly a grunt, he swings the door open that feeds into the hallway and begins the march to your quarters. “If you keep this up, no amount of caffeine is going to save you. And I won't be there to baby you when you pass out and fall on your face. You're going. I'll pick up the slack."

I don't want you to work yourself down to the bone so much that you're forced to rely on me... So take care of yourself, I'll manage the rest.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

[mlm-ficcollection]

Jasper Hale X Male! Reader (part. 1)

(I couldn't live with myself, leaving you all with the old version of my fic when I have an updated one. So here you go, updated fic! Meaning, that if you've read something similar to this on here, or something exactly like this on Ao3, then it is mine. This is part one of, if everything goes as planned, three parts.)

(Part. 2)

---

"This is (y/n)."

The voice sounded blurry to him, as if he was underwater. Where was that ringing coming from? Was it even ringing? He wasn't sure, might as well just be him, might as well just get tinnitus because honestly, that would just be typical wouldn't it. Why was it so dark?... Maybe his eyes were just closed.

Memories, memories (memories had to be the key to figuring this out, right? Right.) - what was the last thing he remembered? He was in town to go shopping. Working late left him to do his groceries in the evening. It was dark, at least past 9 pm, and there weren't a lot of people out on the narrow cobbled city streets. No people. That's how he liked it.

A group of broad and tall statures with guns came out of nowhere. The rest of it was blurry- there was shouting, three rounds of bullets being fired, and then he felt the impact of his body hitting the ground. He remembered losing his vision, and feeling himself stop breathing.

And now he was here. And he realised he was not exactly sure where 'here' was. And he realised he should be dead (why wasn't he dead?).

He could hear distant arguing. But maybe they were right next to him. He wasn't sure of anything at the moment, not that he was sure of much usually. 

Parts of what was being said were comprehensible.

"....isn't safe..."

"...let him die!..."

"...dangerous!..."

"...what could I..."

(Y/n) opened his eyes just a little, only to be blinded by a heavenlike light. Squinting, he could see that the room he was in was very white, almost sterile. However, he had a feeling this was no hospital room. Then again, he was still not even sure where he was.

A groan escaped him as he felt his head start to pound, nausea rising in his throat. The people talking suddenly stopped, their attention on him. He couldn't make out any of their faces if he wanted to, and honestly, he didn't care much for that right now - not with his splitting headache. It would be absolutely lovely if they could give him something for the headache though. 

A wave of pain washed through him then, burning at his nerves and spreading through his body like a wildfire spreading through the woods. He hissed, body contorting and arching as the stabbing agony continued rocking through him, numbing every other sense he had.

"Stay with us-!"

"-me the morphine-"

And (y/n) passed out again.

---

The next time (y/n) woke up he was in a significantly more comfortable state. There were no echoing arguing voices around him and no pounding in his head as if it were splitting open. In fact, he could hear the distant sounds of birds chirping and the wind rustling through leaves. Was he in the woods? He'd just been in the city.

His throat felt scratchy, though (is this how those people in desert movies felt like?) And as he opened his eyes he was pleasantly surprised by no little sterile rooms, coupled with no blinding lights. Slowly, he sat up.

His eyes focused, and he glanced around. There were giant windows all around him, and outside of the glass was, indeed, a forest. A fucking forest (?). Not to mention, he couldn't remember ever having this good eyesight. (It had been one of his favourite problems to neglect - opticians are expensive.) 

And he also realised that none of the windows were open, which was odd, seeing as he could hear the birds as though they were right next to him. Could be some weird new glass, though. People do crazy things with glass nowadays. 

The living room, which he assumed was where he found himself, was bigger than his whole studio apartment and decorated with minimalism in mind it seemed. It honestly looked like the home of an eccentric rich man. If this was a kidnapping it was the highest class kidnapping he'd ever heard of. Five-star rated kidnapping. 

(Y/n) wasn't a very big fan of minimalism. (Then again; not his house.)

As the young man stood up and absentmindedly roamed around the house, he realised that he was... Seemingly alone. Awkwardly peeking into every room he came across and calling out only seemed to confirm this; his own voice being the only thing echoing back to him in response.

He wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad sign in this situation - first time being kidnapped and all.

Finally (y/n) ended up in the kitchen. Yeah, some water would definitely soothe the dryness in his throat - motherfucker, had they fed him a desert when he was out??

He sighed and reached up to tug open a cabinet, and stumbled back, caught off guard as he tugged the entire cabinet door off of its hinges. He stared at the door in his hands with wide eyes. (The fuck?? It's not even heavy...)

"...huh."

He hesitantly put the door down, squinting at it suspiciously and assuming the hinges or the wood was very weak or something. Maybe there were even termites in the wood. He grimaced at the thought of termites as he grabbed a glass for himself, and went over to the sink, grabbing ahold of the sink handle and pulling it back.

Only to yell out in shock as he pulled it off the entire handle, separating the handle from the entire fucking sink, with water now spraying out of it.

He put the glass down (dropped it on the counter) and grasped at the hole, desperately trying to stop the water from pouring out and soaking him and holy shit was it wet holy shit holy shit- 

The clearing of a throat behind him split the silence. His head snapped in that direction, wide eyes staring over his shoulder only to see a blond man in a doctor's jacket, sporting an amused smile on his face. 

Behold the aforementioned rich man, I suppose.

"Uhh... It was like this when I found it."

The man tilted his head, and did not seem convinced.

---

After around two hours of explaining the situation, there were three things (y/n) was now sure of.

1. (Y/n) had almost died earlier, and the man in the room with him, Carlisle, suspiciously surprisingly nice for being a rich man, had saved him.

2. He had saved him by turning him into a vampire. He was now a vampire. A fucking vampire.

3. He had been invited to live with him and his other kind-of-but-not-really adopted kids, who were also vampires. It was some sort of clan situation. ("- you mean like, as in a gang?" "(y/n), no-") 

The offer was extremely kind. And the mansion he was in currently was a palace compared to (y/n)'s apartment in the city. Thinking about the sheer size of the mansion was a good distraction from the fact that vampires and vampire clans were real, and had apparently been for a long fucking time.

He also knew that he had pretty much wrecked this man's kitchen. He was ignoring that fact as well. Besides, they were vampires, they didn't even use the kitchen!

Carlisle was nice to him. The doctor had a calming... Feel to him, and explained the situation in a soothing, practiced manner, that showed it was clearly not his first time explaining this. (Y/n) needed that, because he was just about one more life-changing fact away from having a breakdown. Carlisle explained that (y/n) was free to go should he choose, but also explained the dangers of being a lone vampire. ("I-I mean I haven't even met the other people here, I don't know if I can-" "That's alright, if you want to wait until you've met the others that's perfectly fine.")

And also. That thirst in his throat, was a thirst for human blood. (Y/n) violently recoiled as Carlisle stated this, though he couldn't deny the way his throat itched more at the idea, how his mouth seemed to water with venom at the mere mention of human blood.

Carlisle was very clear that there was one condition for letting him stay; he had to drink animal blood instead of human. (Y/n) had agreed quite vigorously. ("Yeah, duh, fuck yeah I agree."). (Y/n) didn't like the sceptical look Carlisle gave him at that. He got the sudden feeling that it wasn't that easy.

---

Their conversation was cut off as a door opened across the house, and the rest of the stoic family walked in, quietly. (Y/n) stood up hesitantly, preparing himself for a round of handshakes that never came. None of the 'hi, you must be new here' or the other normal things you'd expect meeting someone for the first time. They simply watched him back. He couldn't help but feel intimidated. Were all vampires like this?

"(Y/n)," Carlisle thankfully took the word, "these are the other members of the family."

The young newborn took his time to examine each one of them, glancing away from time to time and pretending he had the dignity not to stare. (This is so fucking awkward, holy shit.)

There was a kind-looking woman who approached them, standing next to Carlisle and smiling encouragingly at (y/n). 

"Esme. Carlisle's wife." She introduced herself, exchanging a disgustingly adorable look with her husband. Suddenly he felt like he was intruding, so he averted his gaze to the rest of the family.

The rest of them stood quietly in front of him in a line, almost giving off the feeling that they were standing guard. Which was a little bit odd. Did they usually do that? Carlisle had told him how dangerous newborns could be. He wondered if they were watching him for any sign of danger, if they were tense and ready to pounce on him.

The position made it easier for (y/n) to inspect them of course, but surely they could have said something...

From left to right: There was a blonde woman, eyeing him suspiciously. That was fair, he thought; he was new after all. He wondered if Carlisle had forewarned them at all. They didn't seem all too surprised, so he must have. (Y/n) smiled hesitantly at her and his gaze quickly drifted to the man next to her.

This man was... Big. Broad and tall, he practically overflowed with mischievous energy. He smirked back at him as their eyes met. It was possible it was because (Y/n)'s gaze might have lingered a second too long on the man's physique-

The newborn heard a snort from the guy next to him. He looked over at the guy confused, raising an eyebrow.

This man had a typical short-sides-long-on-top-haircut, as well as prominent sideburns. It was certainly... A haircut that one can have. His eyes were glued to the floor, an amused smile on his face, as if laughing at a joke only he knew. (Y/n) found it... Slightly infuriating. The red hair on his head was eye-catching though, he had to admit.

Next to him was a short girl who looked as though she came from a fairytale; like she might grant you three wishes. She grinned gleefully at (y/n) with big sparkling eyes, and (y/n) smiled back, relieved at the almost immediate acceptance he felt from this person. This was maybe the closest thing he'd gotten to a greeting from these people.

(It struck him then that all of them were... Attractive. He wondered if that was part of being a vampire. Was he hot now? He had to look in a mirror.

...

Could he look in a mirror?!)

He heard Carlisle speaking next to him, introducing the members and cutting his spiraling thoughts short.

"This is Rosalie, Emmett, Edward, Alice, and-"

Lastly, there was a man.

He was undeniably very handsome, with his dirty blond curly hair and pale skin (which they all had- was that a vampire trait??). His eyes carried the same yellow tint as all the others in the room- but his were different. They seemed to look into him, not through him the way Rosalie did. He felt seen.

The man in question stepped forward and offered his hand for a handshake (finally a normal fucking greeting. Holy shit.) and introducing himself before Carlisle got to. 

"Jasper. You're the newborn, right?"

He spoke with a Southern accent, which was... strangely attractive on him. (Y/n) tilted his head, observing him as he spoke, not avoiding the piercing eye contact. 

It did however take all of his self-control to not reply with 'duh' to this question.

Instead, he shook his hand, nodding slowly.

"Yeah, that's me... The-the one and only."

Carlisle appeared next to them all of a sudden. (Y/n) liked to think he hadn't noticed his approach because Carlisle moved very quietly, and would adamantly deny getting lost in the moment.

"Jasper has... Experience with newborns. He will be helping you control your urges and figure out how your body works- as you have already noted, your abilities have changed. "

He explained, looking between (y/n) and Jasper. (Y/n) nodded silently, not taking his eyes off of Jasper while Carlisle spoke, and Jasper all the same. Therefore neither of them noticed the knowing look that was exchanged between Edward and Carlisle, nor the curious glances between the rest of the family members, or the wide grin on Alice's face.

---

The gentle sounds of a forest filled his ears, and the smell of dirt and nature filled his nose. It was pleasant, not like the oil and smog that festered in his nose and drooped down his throat in the city. The increased sense of smell was, in this case, definitely a good thing about being a vampire.

It was currently only him and Jasper, out in the woods, a place they had frequented the last week while waiting for the vampirism in his body to 'calm down' - a thing it apparently needed to do before they started trying to control his strength. 

(Y/n) thought it was ridiculous, honestly. So what, he broke a measly kitchen door. That didn't mean he was outrageously strong. American houses are practically made of cardboard anyway! But yet... 

"Pick up that log."

Jasper broke the silence as he pointed to a fallen tree, speaking with that lovely accent of his. If only what he said wasn't so incredibly stupid.

(Y/n) scoffed out a laugh in response, arms crossed over his chest.

"Are you joking? I can't pick up a fucking tree! I'm a vampire, not fucking... Superman!" He sputtered, gesturing wildly to the trunk. 

Jasper rolled his eyes and walked past him, over to the fallen tree. The newborn scoffed at him, shaking his head and looking away. Is this guy fucking crazy?

There was a creaking sound, and the next time (y/n) looked over the man had picked up a tree, and was now effortlessly holding it over his head. He looked at (y/n) with a slightly annoyed expression, that he certainly couldn't care less about because Jasper was holding a fucking tree over his head.

(Y/n) was speechless. This guy is fucking crazy-

The dirty-blond man dropped the tree to the ground, casually dusting off his hands as he wandered back over to (y/n).

"Not only are you a vampire; you're a newborn. You're at your strongest point. If you don't learn to control your strength, you could very well accidentally kill any of us."

He stated, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing out over the forest. (Y/n) watched him with shining eyes, amazed and slightly overwhelmed by the situation he found himself in.

The newborn simply nodded dumbly, closing his mouth and walking over to the fallen tree. He swallowed nervously, glancing up at Jasper. The other man offered no support but a piercing and expectant gaze - and somehow that was enough for him to fully know that Jasper believed in him.

Before he knew it, he was holding a tree over his head. He let out a surprised laugh, not caring about the dead leaves falling around him like snow, and looking at Jasper with wide eyes. He dropped the tree to the forest floor with a thud.

It became clear that he actually wasn't human anymore. He couldn't be. Not with the way his skin sparkled beneath the sun and the way physics seemed to bend for him. He wasn't human anymore. 

Maybe he was Superman after all?

 

---

"So, we have to figure out what to tell your family, your relatives etcetera..."

It was hardly two weeks into his stay as Carlisle went through the steps of living like a vampire, keeping his eyes fixed on (y/n) with a slightly worried look on his face. Something told the newborn that Carlisle found this to be the hardest part of transitioning into a vampire. 

The group was currently in the living room, and dusk had fallen. (Y/n) found the house to be more homelike during nighttime - the lamps cast a yellow glow that reminded him of fire and made the whiteness of the interior seem less... Constricting.

The topic of (y/n)'s family made the newborn freeze up beneath their excruciating gazes, and he felt a chill run down his spine. He wondered if he had grown pale or if he just felt like he had. He probably couldn't grow pale, could he? No blood and all.

This was an unavoidable subject, the one of his family. Yet it was one he would be more than happy to ignore for the rest of his life - because with the subject of his family, there would be explanations needed, questions answer that he really would prefer not to answer right now.

(Y/n) glanced down nervously. He wasn't sure whether he actually wanted to have a conversation about them. Not now, not yet.

"I-it's fine, they won't mind."

He looked up at Carlisle with a sorry attempt at a reassuring smile on his face. Carlisle frowned.

"They threw him out."

(Y/n) sputtered and spun around, coming face to face with Edward. Edward, who had just told everyone he had been thrown out, abandoned by his own family. Had he any blood his cheeks would burn in shame by now. That stupid mind-reading was getting annoying.

He shot him a glare. Edward merely shrugged.

Fucking asshole. 

"Yes, thank you, Edward."

When he turned back to Carlisle, Jasper was now standing next to him, arms crossed over his chest and with an equally as concerned look on his face as Carlisles. This fucking guy just seems to manifest, he thought.

"Why would they do that?" Jasper mumbled in confusion, more so to himself than genuinely asking. 

"It's because-"

"Edward don't you fucking dare." (Y/n) quickly shot a fierce glare back at Edward, warning him, before looking forward again. He glanced between Jasper and Carlisle (looking just as concerned as before), and then looked down, taking a shaky breath.

This could end badly. It had a track record of ending badly. He didn't want it to end badly. Not with them.

"I'm...I..."

He sighed as he trailed off, digging the heels of his palms into his face and trying to clear his head. Coming out never really did get easier did it? 

"just-... Okay just give me a moment."

"He's gay."

"Edward I swear to fucking mother of Christ-"

Carlisle had to physically stop him from getting into a fight with Edward that night.

[autumnmobile12]

Villain Deku AU

Most of the time when I see the Villain Deku AU, he's often crazy, and while I do love that concept, I really want to see more sarcastic, cinnamon roll 'Moxxie from Helluva Boss' vibes.

Shigaraki: And that's the plan, any questions?

Deku: Uh, yeah, what was that?

Shigaraki: That wasn't a question, Deku.

Deku: That wasn't a plan.

...

Remember my League of Morons vs A Summer Camp post?

Deku can fix that.

Shigaraki: All right, smart ass, you think you can do better?

Deku: I actually can. Your first mistake is attacking the second night of the camp. Let them all have their summer camp fun. By the end of a single week of non-stop, hardcore training, they'll be exhausted and less likely to fight off a surprise attack efficiently. Now, before the camp begins, we'll need Spinner to drive out there. You're the only one of us who hasn't committed any significant crimes yet.

Spinner: Why is that important?

Deku: *smiling cheerfully* Because you're a civilian. The Wild, Wild Pussycats aren't going to think it's weird if a civilian drives up to their base asking for directions through the mountains. Just make sure you have nice, dead battery for your cell phone. Ooh, or you could park on the road with a low tank of gas and walk up to their base! That'll sell it.

Spinner: Sell what?

Deku: You're getting the exact coordinates of the building for Kurogiri, of course. Once we have that information, he can open warp gates beneath our target while he's asleep and let gravity do the rest.

Kurogiri: You suggest we strike at night?

Deku: Right. You want to kidnap Kaachan, so we do it covertly while everyone's asleep. After that, if you really want to send a message to the heroes, we can always seal up the doors and windows, then Mustard can gas the building. Or Dabi can burn it to the ground. Your choice. Painless death in their sleep or painful death by fire?

Dabi: ...holy fuck, that's insane.

All-For-One: *through the computer monitor* Intriguing proposition, Deku. I suppose you have a back-up plan in case something goes wrong.

Deku: About that, it's entirely possible one of the Pussycats or UA teachers will be on look-out and if that's the case, Eraserhead will be the biggest obstacle. Most of you rely extremely heavily on your Quirks. We'll have to work on that, but in our current time frame, doing so before the summer camp is not feasible. So we'll need to remove the one player who can nullify Quirks. That'll be Mr. Compress's job.

Compress: And how exactly will I do that?

Deku: You'll hit him with a surprise attack. Kurogiri will open a warp gate for you, and the second he does, then you strike. Simple.

Muscular: Yeah, and what about the rest of us?

Deku: You'll be on standby in case Compress fails or draws too much attention to himself. Now about our hostage situation...do we really want Kaachan?

Kurogiri: What do you mean?

Deku: Well I know Kaachan. Despite his violent tendencies, he does have a strong sense of justice and he won't be easy to corrupt. Might I suggest taking the heteromorph students instead? Given society's discrimination problem against what they call the 'non-human' types, they've already got a reason for dissatisfaction with how they've been treated since they were born. Oh, and we should take Yaoyorozu Momo, too.

All: ....why?

Deku: She's rich. Her Quirk is infinitely useful, of course, but even if we can't convince her to join the League, her family will pay us a hefty ransom to get her back. For the record, so will Endeavor if we abduct his youngest son, too. Or we could just ransom the oldest one if all else fails.

Dabi: How the fuck did you know?!

Deku: ...Todoroki Touya allegedly burned up in a massive forest fire and the body was never found. You have a fire Quirk and horrific, full body burn scars and are the age he would have been today. It's not rocket science.

Shigaraki: ...this brat just hijacked my entire plan.

...

He'd quickly become the Bilbo Baggins of LoV, the one who's solving all the problems right up until they get to the fight with Gigantomachia, at which point he says, "No, I'm not helping you this time. He's gotta respect you, this is your quest. I'm not the fighting type, so I'll just sit back and watch." Proceeds to sit quietly and take notes while observing the fight.

Dabi also wasn't helping out with that fight, so every now and then he checks in on their progress. He just shows up, mildly entertained and mostly annoyed by the collective ineptitude (not that he's any better,) and he walks up to Deku.

Dabi: So how many ways have you thought of to defeat him?

Both: *duck as Spinner goes flying over them*

Deku: ...47. How's that recruitment process going? Because you're starting to look way more useful as a bargaining chip for ransom.

Dabi: Says the guy who's just sitting here.