#i should show this to my counselor

[tinybitofhope]

my life rant bc i need this of my chest xxx (ill divide into paragraphs)

okay so the reason i think im aroflux is bcuz i dont feel attraction duh. but fr cuz i need to get this out. saw this one post abt leo valdez and it was like percy telling leo abt what his luv for annie feels like and leo was like ‘ya ill get crushes but i wont find luv bc i am fire and fire burns out and cannot be contained’ and shit like that and i was like…. crap. uhm i relate to that a bit too much. ik im young but like.. my crushes rlly js feel like interests and spending too much time w them. also idek if my most recent sapphic crush was rlly a crush or if i was js tryna prove it to myself im rlly bi. anyways back to my aro rant. and sometimes when i see people in luv im like ‘lmao couldnt be me’ like… okay next rant

omg so i used to be always happy for little and big things but like…. my vball tournament was yesterday and we won against our best opponent but i didnt feel happy??? like i barely even cried. i mean im glad we won but it feels like im holding smth that i like in my hands but js not enjoying ig??? i feel vv empty rn and i dont like the feeling of that but then again thats how ive been feeling for a while so im trying to ignore it.

its so sad on how i keep being friends w him (ill name him kris) even tho he literally outed me, but this is such a small skl and i dont think i could ever leave my friend. tbh loyalty is a big thing for me, ever. thats why it hurts so much when i think about everyone having someone except for me. its like being the third wheel in every single relationship (familial, friendship) i have with anybody. anyways i rlly have to stop being friends w people who wronged me but when i think abt them i think abt all the good times w them and then think that they (alliteration) could still be my friend. but like i said before its a small skl and everyone knos eachother…

back on that third wheel thing, like i said b4 loyalty is big for me. so when someone betrays me or like leaves me out i get soooo anxious and start going into frenzies like ‘oh ofc theyre hanging out together’ bc now my trio feels like m&a plus me. and everyone has their pair they talk to all the time, so what abt me? nonzo. its so hard during family shit bc im the middle child whereas there is only two children in each family and somim stuck w the older cousins (dw i luv em) but like… i feel so out of place.

i hate hate hate doing big things and then right after i have to go socialize? like no.. im tired asf. sometimes talking makes me want to cry and hide ipunder my sheets and scroll on pinterest while listening to my peaceful playlist. and it sucks bc i share a room w my sister and so i cant even do that in peace. i turned off my crying mode aswell and i dont kno how to turn it back on so at most i can shed a few tears so thats not fun. bc yknow how people say ‘crying is good for u’. me rn: 🤠

so what did we learn? that my life sucks ass and i want to curl up and die. and on that happy note goodbye!!!

[leolaroot]

they call me guy trembling because i had to establish a boundary qnd i had to introduce the topic myself and my mom tried to push back but i stood up for myself and insisted and quoted my counselor and she ACQUIESCED!

[disdaidal]

I don't want to brag or sound too optimistic about it, but after three weeks of training at a private college, I think my lessons with this one particular immigrant student (who has serious motivational problems lemme tell ya) are finally starting to get through and there's been improvement.

Only slight improvement so far but I have spotted some, so maybe not all hope is lost yet.

Remains to be seen I guess.

[banannabethchase]

Writing a college choice chapter and I just got walloped with the memory of my dad making an absurdly detailed spreadsheet with like 4 separate sheets to help me choose which college to go to. The apple does not fall far from the tree.

...but this apple still managed to choose the wrong college.

[featherymainffins]

Binge-reading Dungeon Meshi because it's the only thing standing between me and suicide ngl.

[walmart-miku]

I'm filling out this info sheet for my letter of rec from my school counselor and oh my gosh I did not realize how much about myself I don't know. Like "What is your favorite quality about yourself?" IDK man "What do you value?" getting into college??? "What would someone be surprised to find out about yourself?" prob that I'm filled with self-loathing but my counselor and the college don't need to know that.

[kaciebello]

Band-aids of death

Masterlist Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem) Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :( word count: 1347

Percy has been at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seemed like he was good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway.

After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy finally felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. However, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own.

“ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw.

“ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? Nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues,

“Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is.

“ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders.

“ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen.

“ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids.

“ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl.

“ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks.

“ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.”

“ Australia?”

“No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him.

“You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

[skywalkerslvt]

Campfire Secrets- Ellie Williams

❥Pairing: Camp counsellor!Ellie Williams x AFAB!Camp counsellor!Reader

❥Summary: Your growing feelings for your fellow camp counsellor, Ellie, come to light when you both go skinny dipping one night...

❥CW: 18+ smut, fingering, handjobs, skinny dipping, a tiny smidge of thigh grinding, sex in the wilderness, 2.1k words, NOT PROOFREAD

❥a/n: Because it's finally summer, here's a crazy summer camp porn fic about my fav! Just a reminder that my asks/requests are open if any of you horndogs would like to make a request (requests are my favourite thing ever please send stuff)! Hope you enjoy <333

You met Ellie three years ago during your first summer as camp counselors. She had strolled into the staff meeting fashionably late, her hair still damp from an early swim in the lake, exuding a carefree confidence that instantly caught your attention. Her arrival disrupted the serious tone of the orientation, replacing it with laughter and easy banter as she greeted everyone by name, as if she had known them all her life.

You, on the other hand, had been nervous and slightly overwhelmed, navigating a new environment and the responsibilities that came with it. Ellie noticed your apprehension and made a beeline for you during a break, flashing a mischievous grin that instantly put you at ease. “First time, huh? Don’t worry, newbie, I’ll show you the ropes,” she had declared with mock superiority, her voice tinged with playful arrogance that made you chuckle despite yourself.

From that moment, a friendship blossomed between you two, forged through shared duties, late-night conversations under starlit skies, and a plethora of camp activities. Ellie had a knack for turning every mundane task into an adventure, whether it was organizing scavenger hunts, mastering archery, or sneaking midnight snacks from the mess hall. You found yourself drawn to her infectious energy, her quick wit, and the way she effortlessly charmed everyone around her.

During one memorable morning canoeing session, Ellie had challenged you to a race across the lake, her competitive spirit evident in the determined set of her jaw. “Bet I can paddle circles around you!” she had taunted, her paddle slicing through the water with precision. You had accepted the challenge with equal fervor, relishing the thrill of the chase as you navigated the tranquil waters, laughter echoing across the lake.

Evenings were reserved for campfires and camaraderie, where Ellie’s guitar-playing skills and knack for storytelling made her a favorite among campers and counselors alike. You often found yourself mesmerized by her talent, the gentle strumming of strings mingling with the crackle of the fire as she led sing-alongs and shared ghost stories that sent shivers down your spine.

Now, years later on your third summer being a camp counsellor, you couldn’t deny the growing fondness you felt for Ellie. Her infectious laughter and genuine kindness had captured your heart, yet you hesitated to acknowledge the deeper stirrings within you. You cherished your friendship too much to risk it with romantic feelings, afraid to disrupt the easy dynamic you had cultivated together. To make matters worse, this year Ellie was your cabin mate, making your quickly growing feelings even harder to hide. 

One scorching afternoon, with the kids engrossed in making friendship bracelets under the shade of the big oak tree, Ellie turned to you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, have you ever explored the waterfall just beyond camp?” she asked, her voice lowered as if sharing a secret. You shook your head, intrigued by her sudden enthusiasm. “No, I didn’t even know there was one.” Ellie’s grin widened, a playful challenge in her gaze. “It’s a bit of a hike, but totally worth it. We should go sometime. Just the two of us.” The idea of escaping to a secluded spot away from the noise and chaos of camp, with Ellie by your side, stirred something deep within you, though you masked your excitement with a nonchalant shrug. “How about tonight?” you suggested. “We have the night off from the campfire.” 

Ellie gave you a mischievous smile, making your face heat as your heart skipped a beat. “Then tonight it is.” You smiled back at her, then got back to work helping the kids tie their bracelets. 

You couldn't wait for tonight, though the day went by painstakingly slow. No matter how you tried to occupy your time, whether it was playing games with the kids or taking naps during your breaks, the night just couldn't come soon enough. 

But when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the camp, you wasted no time seeking out Ellie in the busy camp. You and Ellie slipped away from the cabins, hearts pounding in anticipation. The path to the waterfall was bathed in the soft glow of twilight, the sounds of the camp fading away behind you as you ventured deeper into the woods. 

Ellie led the way, her flashlight casting dancing beams of light that illuminated the trail. The hike was a mix of comfortable silence and easy conversation, the natural rhythm of your friendship making the journey feel effortless. As you approached the waterfall, the distant sound of rushing water grew louder, filling the night air with its soothing roar.

“Almost there,” Ellie said, turning to flash you a grin. The sight of her lit by the moonlight, her features softened by the gentle glow, made your breath catch in your throat. You returned her smile, pushing down the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

When you finally reached the clearing, the waterfall was a breathtaking sight. Water cascaded down a rocky cliff, the pool at its base shimmering under the moonlight. Ellie turned to you, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “What do you think?”

“It’s beautiful,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. The sight was mesmerizing, but your attention kept drifting back to Ellie, standing there with an expression of pure joy on her face.

“Wanna jump in?” Ellie asked, still grinning. You realized then that in your haste to get Ellie out of the camp, you foolishly forgot to put on a bathing suit before leaving. “Shit! I forgot to bring a bathing suit.”

Ellie shrugged nonchalantly. “So did I. We could just take our clothes off,” she suggested with a grin.

You crossed your arms, giving Ellie a pointed look. “You want to skinny dip?” 

“Yeah, why not?” Your eyes widened at her suggestion, heat rising to your cheeks as you imagined what your coworkers would think if they found the two of you skinny dipping. 

“Ellie, I-”

Before you could finish, Ellie had begun unbuttoning her jeans, stripping down to her underwear and tossing her clothes onto a nearby rock. She gave you a playful look as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of her boxers, to which you turned around flustered, your heart pounding in your chest. 

You heard her dive into the pool, water splashing the backs of your legs. You stood there for a moment, caught between your apprehension and the undeniable pull of wanting to join her. You quickly glanced over your shoulder, finding the glimmering water up to Ellie's shoulders. The pool did look really inviting now that she was in it. 

Taking a deep breath, you quickly shed your own clothes, feeling a rush of exhilaration as the cool night air hit your skin. You stepped to the edge of the pool, Ellie’s laughter ringing in your ears, and with one last glance at her, you dove in.

The water was refreshingly cold, enveloping you in its embrace. You surfaced to find Ellie grinning at you, her hair slicked back and her eyes glinting with mischief. “Took you long enough,” she teased.

You splashed her in response, laughing as she retaliated. The playful banter continued as you swam together, the night around you filled with the sounds of laughter and splashing water. You made your way over to the waist deep water under the waterfall, leaning your back against the smooth rock as you faced Ellie, relishing in the feeling of her roaming eyes on your exposed body. 

As the playful splashing subsided, the space was filled with a more intimate silence. The moonlight danced on the water's surface, casting a soft glow over Ellie’s features. She swam closer, her bare chest almost meeting yours as your breaths mingled in the cool night air. 

Ellie’s gaze shifted from playful to intense as her eyes roamed over your face. “You know,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I've always wanted to do something like this with you.” 

Her gaze heated your cheeks, and you laughed nervously. “You've always wanted to get me naked in a pool like this?” you joked, though your voice was strained from the sudden desire to touch her. 

Ellie chuckled. “Well yes, but that's not what I meant.” Your heart pounded as she reached out, her fingers brushing against your bare waist, sending a shiver down your spine. “Ellie…” you started, but she silenced you with a gentle kiss, her lips soft and warm against yours. 

You melted into her touch, your hands finding their way to her waist pulling her flush against you. The water swirled around you as the kiss deepened, your bodies pressed together in the moonlit pool.

Ellie's hands roamed over your back, her touch igniting a fire within you.

She pulled back slightly, her breath hot against your lips. "Are you sure about this?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.

You nodded, your fingers tangling in her hair. "I've never been more sure of anything."

Ellie's smile was both tender and filled with desire as she kissed you again, her hands exploring your body with a newfound urgency. You moaned softly as her fingers traced the curves of your waist, your skin tingling under her touch. Her leg shifted under the water, her knee parting your thighs as she slid it between your legs, pushing her thigh flush against your heat. You moaned into her mouth at the addicting friction against your clit.

Ellie's hands slipped between your thighs, her fingers teasing your entrance. You gasped, your hips bucking against her hand, craving more. "Ellie, please," you whispered, your voice filled with need.

She didn't need any more encouragement. Her fingers slid inside you, her touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. You clung to her, your moans filling the night air as she moved inside you, her thumb circling your clit with expert precision.

As Ellie continued to pleasure you, you reached out, your hand slipping between her thighs. She gasped at your touch, her hips grinding against your fingers. You mirrored her movements, your fingers finding her entrance and sliding inside, matching her rhythm.

The pool around you seemed to amplify every sensation, the cool water contrasting with the heat between you.

Ellie's breath hitched as you curled your fingers inside her, her grip on you tightening. "Fuck, you feel so good," she moaned, her voice a low rasp in your ear.

You responded with a whimper, your body arching against hers as your pleasure built. The intensity of the moment, the feeling of Ellie's fingers inside you while you pleasured her in return, was overwhelming. Your breaths became ragged, each touch and movement heightening the connection between you.

Ellie's thumb circled your clit faster, her fingers curling inside you in a rhythm that had you teetering on the edge. You mirrored her movements, your fingers pressing and curling inside her, drawing out breathy moans that only spurred you on.

"Ellie," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I'm so close."

"Me too," she breathed, her lips brushing against your ear. "Come with me."

Her words sent you over the edge, your body tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out her name, your fingers pressing deeper inside her as you rode out your orgasm.

Ellie followed moments later, her body shuddering against yours, her moans mingling with yours in the night air.

For a moment, you clung to each other, the water soothing your overheated skin as you caught your breath. Ellie's forehead rested against yours, her breath warm and steady as she pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"That was.." she started, her voice trailing off.

"Amazing," you finished for her, smiling as you brushed a strand of hair from her face.

She chuckled, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back. "Yeah, it was."

“I hate to ask this of you,” she started, giving you a nervous smile, “but if we want to stay in the same cabin, I think it would be best if we kept this between us.” 

You smiled at her, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as you wrapped your arms around her. “Well, I suppose we could consider it our little secret,” you replied playfully, a hint of mischief in your eyes. “As long as you can keep quiet at night, nobody will find out.” 

Ellie laughed, her hold around your waist tightening as she nuzzled into your neck. 

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, soaking in the peaceful ambiance of the waterfall and the night around you.

[houseofwolvess]

crying in public is so fucking embarrassing

[sunflowerwinds]

first night traditions | e.w

summary: back for your third summer in a row, you reconnect with your friends you hadn’t seen for a whole year, including one ellie williams. seeing her again brings back the silly crush you developed on her the first summer. you promised yourself that this summer would be different but your heart is betraying you.

pairing: ellie wiliams x fem!reader

contains: fluff, tension between ellie and abby, characters from a different au (steve & robin from stranger things), probably inaccurate depictions of summer camp because i’ve never been, maybe flirty!ellie :)

word count: 4.1K

a/n: i literally couldn’t think of any other name for extra characters. stranger things had been heavy on my mind even though 90% of the cast and production team are so insanely problematic. fuck the duffer brothers. but i am so so excited for yall to see what i have for this. a day late posting i apologize but i hope you guys enjoy <33

under the summer stars masterlist

For the past two summers, you’ve been a camp counselor at Little Explorers Summer Camp. As irritating as the summer heat made you, being able to spend a month in this little paradise with the sweetest kids in the world made the burning UV rays worth it. You pulled into the parking lot, watching your friends from previous summers lining up beside you. You sent a text to your dads to let them know you’d arrived safely at the campsite.

As you adjust your minimal amount of makeup, you hear a knock on your window causing you to jump slightly and turn down your music that you had been listening to on the 3 hour drive. You turn your head and gasp in excitement as your good friend and fellow counselor, Jesse, tugs open your door.

“Oh my god, Jesse!” You chuckle as you step out of your driver's seat to wrap your arms around his neck.

He chuckled against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, patting your back.

“Holy shit! Have you been working out? You nearly choked me out just now.” Jesse joked as he pulled back from your embrace.

You put your arm up to flex playfully, nodding with a cheeky smirk.

“Prepping for this summer, you know?” You shrugged your shoulders before looking over his shoulder to see a familiar blonde head making her way over.

“I think we should really put that to the test,” the blonde folded her own muscular forearms over her chest.

You make your way over to her to give her a tight hug as you had missed her presence dearly. Abby had become a close friend of yours after your first summer as a counselor being a year older than you and having more experience than you did.

“Abs, I missed you,” you laugh softly as she gives you a squeeze, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“I missed you too. Ready to deal with whiny kids and minimal air conditioning for a month?” Abby grinned from ear to ear as she pulled away, patting your shoulder.

“Oh, nothing but excitement and not at all fear,” you give her a thumbs up before you turn to see Jesse opening up your trunk to grab your suitcase.

You thank him as he breezes past you with your two suitcases, watching him walk down the gravel road to the counselors cabin. Abby mumbles ‘show off’ as Jesse lunges with your suitcases on either shoulder causing you to chuckle. The sun beat down on your exposed neck, beads of sweat already trickling down your back and centering on your upper lip.

You and Abby get to talking as you shut your car door, double locking it as you had the tendency to forget to lock your car. Abby explained to you how she had been excelling as a personal trainer back home, loving the differences she makes in people's lives. You were a barista at your campus when you weren't here at the campsite.

As you both walk up to the camp main office cabin, you notice a few other familiar faces. Dina, another fierce friend of yours, and Joel, one of the only mature adults in charge, both leaning against the old wooden railing with bright smiles.

“Well, who are those sexy ladies?” Dina shouts, cupping her palms over her mouth.

The sound caused the birds in the trees to scatter, you flinching at fluttering and squawking above you. You shake your head with a blush from not only the heat but her words.

“Dina,” Joel says warningly.

“What? The kids aren’t here yet.” Dina rolled her eyes playfully before making her way towards the two of you.

She threw each of her arms around your necks to pull you both into a quick but sweet hug.

“You’re one to talk. Hello? Your hair is growing and have you been doing squats?” You check her out as you admire her figure.

“My genetics blessed me.” Dina insisted with a bright smile.

The three of you were all sharing conversation as you walked up the steps, giving Joel friendly smiles and ‘hello’s. You peeked inside the cabin to see Jesse talking to the one person you were ashamedly the most excited to see. There she stood in a black tight wife pleaser, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded to whatever Jesse was rambling about. She even stopped her conversation with the man to walk up to you to give you the tightest hug, her toned arms wrapping around your frame.

Ellies’ sigh brushed against your temple, like she was relieved to see you. After all these summers, no one ever exchanged numbers so you yearned for her presence at the beginning of the month of June. Your dads already gave you a million pep talks but you told them your crush on Ellie was no more. Your heart betrayed your mindset as it fluttered at her grip on you, melting into the embrace without even realizing.

That is until Jesse spoke up.

“Jesus, Ellie, you guys are going to have a whole month together.”

This caused you to flip him off behind Ellie’s back. Ellie, sadly, pulled away regardless but didn’t let Jesse’s comment go unpunished and gave him a punch to his shoulder. He simply winced and rubbed the skin, shaking his head at the auburn haired girl.

“You’re just jealous because I’m her favorite,” Ellie snipped with a confident smile.

You couldn’t even lie as it wasn’t far off. It made you over think how you act around her. Have you made it obvious these past two summers how much you favored her?

“So are you guys excited for tonight?” Dina pipped in, raising her thick eyebrows as she glanced at everyone.

Every summer for as long as this camp has been active, all of the counselors take a night to go for a late night swim and a beautiful campfire to take the time to mentally and emotionally prepare for the next month.

The children come on Monday. It was Saturday so they had all of Sunday to prepare everything for the kids.

“Oh hell yeah. Dina and I are going to sneak into the dining hall to grab everything for the s’mores. What cabin did everyone get assigned to this year?” Jesse spoke up, grabbing the clipboard with everyone’s cabin and the amount of campers everyone had.

You glance at Ellie to motion to the clipboard. She grabbed your arm to tug you towards Jesse’s figure, peaking over at the highlighted names.

“Shit, Els, our cabins are right next to each other this year. T-Rex’s and Daisy’s.” You beam at her as you run your finger down the list.

“Finally. It’s been, like, three years and we’re right next door to one another.” Ellie looked over at you with just as much excitement in her sage green eyes.

You couldn’t help but match her excitement as you recalled the past two summers where the cabins you were assigned to were tens of feet away and you weren't able to see each other until lunch time or late at night. The cabins next to each other were usually teamed up to do activities with the kids together. More time to spend with Ellie.

Platonically and BFF-like, of course.

“Wait, Joel, where’s Steve and Robin?” You question the elder man as he walked through the screen door with a large box in his arms.

“Ah, those two will be here much later.” He paused to set down the box near a desk. “They missed a few exits and called ahead to let me know.”

You nod to yourself. Steve and Robin were like ying-yang twins. The brunette pretty boy and the freckled girl were the definition of platonic soulmates. It freaked you out how well they got along.

“Well until then, let’s all unpack our shit in our counselors cabins.” Jesse spoke up, grabbing one of his suitcases.

You agree and go to grab your suitcase when Abby and Ellie speak up.

“I can help—“

“Hey, no, I got it.”

You froze at the two of them reaching for your travel cases, looking in between the two of them.

“Guys, I can carry them myself,” you shake your head with a soft laugh but neither of the girls were having it.

“It’s like a mile walk to the Daisy cabin. I’m right next door. I can help,” Ellie emphasized, looking at Abby with a tight-lipped grin.

“A mile is not that far, Ellie. I really have no problem doing it.” Abby chuckled in Ellie’s face, grabbing the handle tightly to your carry-on suitcase with your toiletries.

Dina and Jesse exchange looks with you before silently maneuvering around the three of you to carry their own suitcases to their assigned cabins. Was there a weird tension between the two or was it just you?

“Okay! How about you both carry something? There. Problem solved.” You speak up, placing a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and turning to face Abby.

The two were driving causing your shoulders to set in a hunch at the strange encounter. The girls agreed on that before leaving the main cabin to yours. Abby’s biceps flexed as she carried the heavier suitcase with ease as Ellie rolled her eyes behind her, telling you to follow behind them so you could get settled in.

Reluctant already to walk in the shaded heat, you give Joel one more forced grin. He muttered ‘good luck’ before returning to his own tasks with what you swore was a teasing grin.

The walk to the cabin wasn’t as irritating as you were expecting as Ellie and Abby were right: you would’ve been complaining a lot more if you had a suitcase in each hand along with your carry on. The heat was causing your baby hairs to stick to your forehead, huffing in annoyance but keeping your snarky words to yourself as you arrived with the two very helpful girls.

Ellie kicked open the door, a soft grunt leaving her lips as she placed the suitcase she was holding next to your counselor bed. Abby did the same, stretching her palm in and out from the tight grip. You sigh as you lean against the doorway, feeling the cool A/C hit your face.

“See? Teamwork guys,” you give them both thumbs up. They looked back at you with panting chests but smiled at your words nonetheless. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. Thank you, Els. Thanks, Abby.”

You give the girls a side hug — Ellie’s a little tighter than the blondes. Abby gave Ellie a look once over before leaving the cabin to have you and Ellie be on your own. Once the door shut, Ellie turned to you with a soft sigh. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked around at the cutesy decor that was floral themed. You took notice of how homey the bunk-beds felt in comparison to all of the other ones.

Sure, they were just as adorable but this one felt right. Or maybe it was the fact that a certain auburn haired girl was making you feel more at ease than ever.

“This is a cute little cabin. It suits you,” Ellie walked over to trace the mural of sunflowers with the campsite name in a beautiful cursive font.

“Right? It’s perfect. I mean, the Mushroom and Grizzly cabins were adorable but this feels a lot better for some reason.” You glance over at Ellie’s inked arm, sucking in a deep breath.

Ellie hummed in agreement, looking back over at you. You fiddled with your random bracelets, giving her the least awkward smile you could muster. She reciprocated the gesture right back and tilted her head to the left.

“I should probably head over next door to get all of my shit unpacked,” Ellie huffed out, walking over to you to be merely inches away from your face.

“I thought you were just going to annoy me for a little longer but if you wanna go, Els.” You tease, scrunching your nose at her.

She scoffed and leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “You love it when I annoy you.”

And how easily you could kiss me right now if you were willing, you thought.

“I guess I do since I keep you around,” you shrug your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes poured into yours as she took a step back. Her hand reached at one of the ends of your braids, twirling it around her pointer finger. You watched her carefully as her smile slowly grew.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” She questioned, still messing with your hair.

Not in the slightest, your brain echoes.

“We’ll see. I’ll get back to you when the month is over.” You chuckle as she releases the dutch braid from her fingertips.

Ellie muttered ‘fair enough’ under her breath as she nodded to herself, a smile creeping on her lips. You watch her take a moment to glance around the cabin once over before inching towards the door.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Campfire and then late night swimming.” Ellie pointed one finger at you expectantly.

“I know, Els. I’ll see you,” you give her one more nod.

“Wear something cute for the swim,” was the last thing she said before opening and shutting the door behind her.

You watched her now more blurred figure through the screen over the windows, waiting for her to leave before letting out a long sigh you weren't aware you were holding.

It was going to be a long month.

After unpacking for what felt like centuries, you had everything in their correct places and were able to peacefully make your way to the campsite. All of the beds were made, your counselor door had your name in dry-erase along with the rules for the camp opposite of the door.

And maybe you took into consideration what Ellie said about the cute outfit and threw on a pair of brown cargo shorts and a loose white tee. You only brought three pairs of shoes so you landed on your black and white Reebok Club C’s. What’s underneath was also taken into consideration.

As you were shutting the door behind you, you turned around to see Dina standing right in front of you with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You scoot back as she had scared you with her silent presence.

“Hey D, everything okay?” You tilt your head at her as you make your way down the steps.

“What the hell was that with Abby and Ellie earlier?” She trailed behind you, speeding up her steps to walk beside you.

You glance at Dina as you recall how intense hours before were between your other two friends; one whom you felt more deeply for.

“I really have no idea. It was… freaky but hey, I got out of carrying my luggage.” You joke and Dina nods along with a weak chuckle.

“Yeah, that is true but I don’t know. Ellie and Abby have always been neck in neck for some reason. They get along enough to be cordial but those two can get on each other’s nerves fast.” Dina explained to you.

You never really noticed it before. You assumed it was because if you weren’t trying to make sure the children were pulling or cutting each other’s hair, bullying one another or making sure their bladders were in check. Along with your flourishing and embarrassing school-girl crush on Ellie blinding you.

“Why?” You question as the two of you were approaching the campfire that was sparkling and crackling under the setting sun.

“I really have no idea, babe but what I do know is that you’re not being any less obvious with your crush on Ellie.” Dina nudged you as she jerked her head to Ellie who was watching Joel pulling at the strings of his acoustic guitar, a bottle of Coke dangling from her long fingers.

The green eyed girl had a small smile on her pink lips as she watched the father figure in her life sing lowly with the tune. Her effortless beauty to you was always captivating. Maybe Dina was right.

“My crush is extremely under control,” you lie straight through your teeth.

“Suppressing it and not confessing is not having it under control,” Dina stated with a sigh, shaking her head.

“Okay, enough talking about it. Plus, I’m trying to move on, D.” You lower your voice once you approach the group of familiar faces.

Dina pressed her lips into a thin line as she respected your wishes. What you told her was half true. Yes, you did want this crush to wither away in the wind but you didn’t actually have someone else to fixate on.

”Robbie, hey!” Dina approaches Robin, giving her a quick hug.

Robin rested her chin on her shoulder with a soft chuckle, reciprocating the motion. You make your way over to Steve who was chugging a lime Gatorade. Everyone was wearing a mix of tank top and tees with either jean or cargo shorts with athletic sneakers. Steve, being the manwhore he was, had on 5 inch inseam jean shorts. He looked like he stepped out of a 1987 slasher movie.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease as you stare at his head of gorgeous hair.

Steve rolled his eyes playfully before wrapping his free arm around your waist from where you were standing quickly. You hear Ellie and Joel snort at your statement as Steve shakes his head at their laughter.

“What’s up, Bubbles?” He grinned up at you.

Now the entirety of the camp erupted into giggles at his nickname for you. Last summer, the children in your cabin pranked you with the help of Jesse and Steve. The idiots got all 12 kids an extra large bubble gun and doused you in soapy bubbles right after getting out of the shower. You swore half of them just went up your nose and in your mouth. The HD photo of you is hanging in the main office for everyone to see.

“Alright, alright, enough. You guys are asses.” Ellie spoke up but she covered her mouth to hide her own laughter.

You sit down next to Abby and point across the fire at the auburn haired girl.

“You better keep one eye open at night.” You shake your head, allowing the warmth of the fire and the soft tunes of Joel’s guitar put you at ease.

Everyone else ‘ooh’d’ and ‘damn’d’ at your words as Ellie merely shook her head. She didn’t believe you were going to really do anything to her. That is until the blonde sitting next to you threw her muscular arm over your shoulders, tugging you into her side.

“I’ll help you prank Williams. Let me know before we go on our weekly trips to town.” Abby whispered into your ear which caused weird shivers to trickle down your spine.

You send her a small smile with a soft ‘thanks’.

Before you knew it, everyone was sharing how their past year has been since the previous summer. The sticks were passed around with the huge marshmellows at the end, everyone roasting them to a slight crisp. This camp had been a second home to you and these people had become like family. You found out that Robin had finally made a move on that girl she had been cruising on for the past year and had a date with her when she got back from camp which everyone drank to. You pressed your melting marshmellow in between two graham crackers, a small amount of chocolate between the two as you weren’t the biggest chocolate fanatic.

Ellie was almost pressured into playing the guitar tonight but she insisted she saved it for the kids.

Just when you were trying to get over her she said something as sweet as that. God, you hated her. After everyone had inhaled their s’mores, a series of sighs and complaints about how hot it was trickled down the line of counselors.

“Screw it. It’s time for that late night swim.” Robin stated, standing up on her high-top Converse covered feet.

Even though the sun had been set for almost two hours now, you were still warm all over. The cool lake would be heavenly. Everyone except for Joel got up from their seats on the logs, making their way over to the lake.

“Y’all be safe now. Ev’rybody knows what to do when you’re done swimming right?”

They were scattered ‘yes’s’ and ‘got it, Dad’. In a sense, Joel was like a father figure to you all since each and every one of you viewed him as such; comforting and an older man.

Once he gave you guys the ‘okay’, the group took off in a sprint to the bridge overseeing the lake. You let out a loud laugh as you watched Steve trip over his shorts as he kicked the denim off. Everyone had left their clothes and shoes on the small wooden pier, each of you plopping in one by one.

You set your shorts aside hanging on the rail along with your shirt and shoes. You tried to ignore the negative thoughts about Ellie seeing your body in just your underwear; a pair of hipster panties and a bralette because you couldn’t stand wired bras.

”Come on! The water feels amazing,” you hear Robin shout.

You saw Dina shoving Steve’s head into the water with joyous laughter. Jesse, Robin and Abby will peacefully swim around in the dark water. The only source of light being the singular lamp post at the end of the pier and the moonbeams bouncing off the still water.

Then you see a familiar head of wet auburn hair pop up at the end of the wooden ledge.

“Don’t make me get out of this water and push you in,” Ellie warned but her smile showed she was only teasing.

You flip her off before motioning for her to back away from the pier.

“Move your head, Els. I don’t wanna risk accidentally kicking you in the face when I jump in.” You give her a pointed look.

“I could get a badass black eye though,” she raised a hand to push back her wet hair out of her face, giving you more of a view of her stupidly perfect side profile.

“No, seriously. I don’t want to hurt you. Please move.”

Ellie muttered an ‘alright, sorry’ before swimming backwards so that she was now in the little group, all eyes on you. You took a few large steps back, the rough wood tickling underneath your bare feet. You heard a few shouts of encouragement come from Ellie and Abby’s mouths.

Within minutes, you were sprinting off the pier into the deep water. The borderline freezing lake engulfed your body entirely. When your head popped back up above the water, everyone was cheering you on for the jump. You were shivering a bit until Ellie came up behind you, placing her palms on either one of your shoulders. The warmth of her hands eased your goosebumps that raised on your skin.

“So you did wear something cute for tonight,” Ellie said lowly, the cockiest and most stupid grin on her face.

At first, you thought she meant the clothes that were hanging off the pier but no, she meant the underwear that was now clinging to your body. Your cheeks flushed at her words, moving your falling bra strap back onto your shoulder.

“This is what was at the top of my suitcase.” You state before splashing her face with the water, leaning in closer so that you were inches apart. “Not everything is about you, Ellie.”

Ellie spat out what water got in her mouth before shaking her head as she smacked her lips against her teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

“I missed you,” was all she said.

No sarcastic comment back. It sounded so genuine and maybe you felt bad for talking to her in that manner. You had to if you were ever going to move on from this fantasy world of Ellie liking you back.

“Well, I’m here now. I missed you more, Els.”

Ellie shook her head. “You can ask Joel. He’ll embarrass me with how much I was talking about how excited I was to see you again.”

Don’t, you shouted at your rapid beating heart. She misses me as a friend.

“I don’t think I have to ask. He loves embarrassing you enough on his own,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders, kicking your legs through the thick water to keep yourself afloat.

Ellie chuckled as she agreed.

“Well, anyway, I can’t wait to have fun with you again. ”

You nod mindlessly, completely enamored with how soft and gentle her eyes looked under the minimal light as she spoke to you. You whispered, “me too.”

You were so screwed.

tag list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101

[pinkrelish]

𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐬.

ex-con!linecook!eddie x fem!reader

✶Steve messed up. He assured you over and over again that you could have the spare bedroom in his apartment, but while you took your time mulling over his offer, someone else moved in: his down-and-out best friend who needed a place to stay. When you show up at Steve's door with little warning due to your job relocating you, he suggests you and Eddie share the bedroom. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Besides the fact Eddie hated you, and in turn, you hated Eddie.✶

NSFW — smut, masturbation, eddie watches porn, dry humping, cumming in pants, reader flashes her bra & wears a pencil skirt, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, there was only one bed(room)

↳ teaser oneshot | [wc: 9.3k] | series tba!

⋅line cook hc from @bewilderedbunny⋅

Steve was a nice guy. Really.

He was your pen pal since meeting at summer camp when you were both eight-years-old. He was sweet, and wrote you back within a week, without fail. He was your first kiss one sweltering afternoon on the dock over the lake; a quick peck when the counselors weren’t looking. He was one of your first contacts in your flip phone, and his picture occupied the first circle when you got a smartphone, after pestering him to meet up with you in Indianapolis, snapping the pic at a crosswalk; a day where your conversations spanned nothing and everything. What was there to talk about when you talked via pencil, pen, markers, emojis, and photos for years, and suddenly forgot the past decade when you encircled your arms around each other?

He was a nice guy throughout all of college. He’d text you during class. You’d text him from states away, falling asleep at your dormroom desk. He worked at his father’s business. You started as an unpaid intern collecting coffee orders, and pulling all-nighters doing spreadsheet grunt work your superiors didn’t deem worthy of their time.

Stevie 🌞: just quit your job and live with me!

Stevie 🌞: I still have that spare bedroom

Stevie 🌞: rent free

Year after year, you always declined. Climbing the ranks at your job was important to you; and one day it paid off. They were relocating you to the Chicago, and if you didn’t take their pitiful relocation package, you’d get a decent advance on your next paycheck (which was dire considering your salary was roughly the same, despite the ever increasing cost of living); and knowing Steve always had that spare furnished bedroom, and most of your belongings could fit into your car (as long as you didn’t need to see out the rear window), it seemed like a done deal.

Until you surprised him.

You: hey! can i move in w you? my jobs relocating me to chicago and i might already be two hours out. sorry i didn’t text sooner. i had to leave my apartment asap. fuck paying for the damage cindy’s doberman did to that place 😬

Stevie 🌞: Lets talk when you get here

Stevie 🌞: I’ll meet you for coffee

Let’s talk? Never a good sign, even when he was smiling at you from over his latte.

————

“My friend needed the spare room, but he’s a good guy, I swear,” he told you.

“He’s just a little rough around the edges,” he told you.

“He’s understanding; I’m sure you two will get along,” he told you.

“He can make space in the closet for your stuff, and one of you can sleep on the couch,” he told you. “Maybe you can alternate! Bed, couch. It's not like I’m charging him rent, so he should be cool with you living with us until you can afford to move out, or whatever. No big deal. I don’t really care when, you know that. No rush.”

Right. Just share the room.

You weren’t present for the conversation; Steve and Eddie were in the bedroom while you stood awkwardly in the living room, but the result of the exchange made quite the first impression.

“I dunno,” Steve’s voice carried, “maybe you could work something out like you get the room Monday through Wednesday, and she gets it Thursday through Saturday. Sunday’s up in the air?”

“Oh, just share the room like I used to, huh?” Eddie asked, alluding to the life he lived several months ago. “Finally got some privacy to breathe around here, and now you’ve invited some chick to live with us without telling me? Actually–no–you invited her to live here. In my room. No heads up.”

Steve’s wince was audible in his heavy sigh. “You work weird hours, you probably won’t even have to interact with her. C’mon, man. She’s been my friend since we were kids, and it’s just until she finds her own place. She’s cool. She’ll sleep on the couch, or whatever if it really bothers you; just like, let her keep her clothes and shit in here, and let her use the computer for work.”

“Whatever, man.”

“Eddie, wait!”

Thunderous footsteps and a seething, “Fuck this,” followed the heightened emotions, and before you could straighten your spine, you were introduced to your new roommate.

His pace faltered, not expecting you to be standing there. The fine wrinkles in the outer corner of his eyes pinched tighter, and his long hair flowed around a faded black snake tattoo on his throat, stretching across the strained tendons it was inked over, reaching the twitching muscle in his jaw from his clenched teeth. It took him a narrow-eyed glance to sum you and your pink luggage up, and place you firmly in the ‘I don’t like you’ category in his mind, and he continued his march.

“Hi! I’m–”

Your outstretched hand went ignored as he passed you.

He shoved on his boots, and slammed the front door behind him, rattling every piece of metal in the apartment. You stared at where he was just standing, vision marked with a black silhouette of the good guy you’d be sharing intimate space with for the next.. however long, and still with your hand out, you swiveled to Steve. “Yeah, he seems nice.”

————

Eddie Munson glared at your very existence. He wore a permanent crease between his brows when you were in his vicinity. Apprehension tensed his muscles when your soft gaze slid from Steve, to him. There was distaste in his frown. He rolled his eyes when you laughed too loud at the TV. His voice was vitriol, words clipped when he had to speak to you. His shoulders hiked to his ears when you entered the kitchen for a glass of water and caught him mid-chew on his peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he got home from work. When it was your turn to sleep in the bed, he made it a point to come home as loud as possible–yanking open the drawers on the dresser, waking the computer to blazing home screen, and leaving the light on when he went to shower across the hallway, pretending he didn’t hear you grumble at him to turn it off.

You wore a sleep mask to bed after that.

And when you slept on the couch, it was the only time he cooked for himself. Scraping pans across the burners, clinking silverware, gathering his hair off his neck and twisting it between his laced fingers, creating a cradle for him to drop his head back and sigh at the ceiling, just loud enough to stir you from your sleep.

You wore earplugs to bed after that.

Eddie Munson made it known you were not welcomed in his territory, and saw your accidental warm smile thrown vaguely in his direction as a threat to his well being.

But as much as he ensured misery every second you had the fortune of spending in his presence, you weren’t so innocent of terrorizing his every waking moment either..

Soon, Monday through Wednesday, and Thursday through Saturday, and a chance at a lazy Sunday were not enough.

————

When Steve was home, he acted as the mediator when it came to you two being at each other’s throats after another vicious stare-off. Currently, Eddie was standing with his arms crossed, leaned against the counter with his cheeks darkened to a fleshy red, and you were pacing the kitchen, wrapped in a bath towel, stating your case to Steve. You argued since most of the hair clogging the drain belonged to Eddie, he should be the one to clean it. And Steve, not knowing how to interpret Eddie’s steely focus on the fridge as if you didn’t exist, nor the fact a woman was dripping wet and yelling at him, he put his hands up in defense.

He edged away from your ire until he was at the cabinet housing a toothpick dispenser, and depressed the mechanism for one to roll out. He snapped it, put his hands behind his back, and shuffled the two ends into his palm, and had you choose one. Eddie kept his gaze averted, but grasped the other.

You held the long end of the toothpick above your head with a smile to rival the kitchen’s daylight bulbs searing into your retinas. You were the winner, and Eddie was the loser who had to clean the bathroom.

This worked swell when Steve was around to mitigate the tension. But when he was on a business trip, or out on a date, the Bed Schedule was a formality at best, and largely ignored at worst.

Meaning, the bets, deals, and favors began.

They started small: Rock, paper, scissors; winner gets dibs on those just-washed sheets. Flip a coin and see who has to rough it in the living room for the next two nights. Draw the shorter toothpick and try not to stab it in Eddie’s eye when he smirked.

But those were childish games. It was the deals and favors that proved more interesting.

“Can you help me punch holes in these?” you asked, voice high and urgent as you rushed to grab your color coded pie charts from the printer and clip them into a presentation binder.

He scoffed from the bedroom doorway, smelling of fryer oil and bacon grease. “What makes you think I want to help you after cooking for assholes all night?”

“Because you’re nice, and you love me.”

“I despise you,” he corrected, crossing his arms tight over his chest. He shifted his weight from foot to foot while you organized the pages, resisting the bait to give him what he wants, but you knew in your heart it was the only way to not be late for work this morning.

“Fine. You can have the bed tonight.”

He stayed put. “Nope. You know I’m working the overnight shift until Thursday.” That way, he slept while you were at work, and you slept while he was at work.

You glanced at the blue dawn creeping in from the window, then red the time on your watch. “Okay, fine, whatever! Have it all next week. I don’t give a fuck, just help me!”

Reveling in his victory, his plush lips stretched into a wide grin, showing too much teeth. He sauntered at his leisure, closing his eyes half-way, and gazing at you down the long slope of his nose. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” he mocked.

You wanted to strangle him.

–And another time–

“Shut the fuck up for an entire day, and you can have to whole fucking closet,” Eddie snapped after your fifth instance of complaining about your professional office clothes not having available hangers due to him taking them for his old, ratty band tees.

Centering yourself, you brushed the dust off your favorite pants after finding them wadded up on the floor, and whispered, “I hope a rogue knife finds its way into your thumb again tomorrow.”

You swore you saw his hand flex out the corner of your eye, reacting to your curse.

–And the week after that–

You: come help me bring up these groceries

You: elevators broken

You: we can race up the stairs

You: loser washes dishes and takes out the trash

😒dumb: as long as the loser doesn’t cry about it when she sleeps on the couch

You: whatever

😒dumb: i’ll even give you a head start to make it fair

Struck with being that person grinning down at your phone in the stuffy underground parking garage, you gilded your thumbs over the keyboard in a fluttery tease.

You: you just want an excuse to stare at my ass

It took Eddie longer to reply, fumbling with his phone to find the emoji keyboard, only to send–

😒dumb: 🙄

–And the week after that–

“Get a life, you fucking loser,” you yelled from within the metal cylinder of the dryer, bent over on your hands and knees to wrestle your silk blouse free from where it was tangled in a rope of bedsheets, after you told him–explicitly–to never wash it because he’d do it wrong.

He merely watched you struggle from the sidelines, informing you, “You’re the one who asked me to do laundry. Don’t toss your precious, delicate shirts on the bathroom floor if you don’t want them thrown in with everything else. And by the way, I did my part of the deal, so the room is still mine tonight.” As a bonus, he added as he walked away, “Suck my dick, sweetheart.”

Your gums ached from how hard you clenched your teeth. You didn’t leave your blouse on the floor. He did, when he went hunting for his wallet he left in his jeans, and dumped all the clothes out of both baskets, mixing your work clothes with his.

That night, you locked him out of the bedroom. Fuck him.

————

After tireless days of the same back and forth, the juvenile deals and favors were losing their significance. Someone needed to up the ante. And a certain line you two skirted taunted you both, but remained uncrossed until..

————

The hallway leading to your apartment was stale with inactivity. Most people had been home for hours, or were back from bars and crashed on the couch, drooling on their girlfriend’s favorite decorative pillow–the kind with the pom poms. You thought of them with envy. Snoring, dreaming of some blissful shit like sheep hopping a pasture fence. But not you. Your 9 to 5 extended far past those numbers on the clock. It skipped right over them, just like you were skipped over in meetings, being told the extra burden you were taking on was good for the company, and the programs you were learning would be paid in experience. Bullshit. You were tired, and the last thing you needed was some long haired man stubbing his toe on the coffee table to wake you up–morning or night.

But perhaps you were blessed.

You opened the door to near-darkness. Not a lamp, or TV on inside to show someone was home. Not a groan, sigh, or blast of music funneling from a set of oversized headphones. Not a creak of movement from the hallway, or bathroom; surrendering your heartbeat as the loudest feedback.

It appeared you were alone. What a wonderful thing.

The muffled thud of the low pile rug under your heels gave way to silky sweeps of plush carpet welcoming your aching pantyhose-covered feet. Moving further into the apartment, you knew the shapes to avoid in the dim light coming from above the stove, casting the coffee table and scattered stools at the breakfast bar in shadow.

Groggy from exhaustion, you blinked at the spice cabinet door Eddie left open before leaving for his shift. During a conversation with Steve, you let it slip that people who leave the cabinet doors open annoy you, so of course he began leaving one open as a greeting when you came home.

You closed it with your right hand, swinging your laptop bag wildly, and before you could react, the strap caught the top of the glass sugar jar and knocked it over in a wincing crash. Luckily, after peeping one eye open, you assessed nothing broke, but now there was a streak of glittery white dust on the countertop you definitely weren’t going to clean up.

Maybe you could strike a deal with Eddie to wipe it up for you. It was–in a way–his fault, since he left the cabinet door open. If you didn’t need to close it, none of this would’ve happened..

You made a gagging sound.

Since when did your immediate thought process swing to him, and how do you get it to stop? It was bad enough you peeked around the corner into the hallway, praying, praying, praying the bedroom light was off, and feeling your body slump with utter relief when it was. Being on the same planet as him was hell, you didn’t need your private thoughts to linger on him, too.

Mentally dismissing Eddie Munson from your brainspace, you invited yourself into the bedroom. You sought the cushy mattress to cradle your weary body after a long day, and the nest of cozy fleece blankets to swaddle you as you drifted to sleep. Unfortunately, the idiot’s pillow smelled far too much like him; cigarettes and cheap vanilla cologne combined with his hair products, burning your nose like toasted sugar. Despicable. Just the worst. You should exchange it with your own pillow, but you forgot it on the couch, and the couch was so very, very far away..

~~~

Eddie sat crouched in the alleyway outside of Benny’s Diner with a stubby cigarette balanced between his lips, blowing the smoke out in a slow exhale like a roll of fog on a misty morning. Cold emanated from the bricks pricking the expanse of his shoulders, and the night air chilled his damp shirt to his sticky skin, erupting goosebumps along his forearms. Standing around him were the other cooks on break. He didn’t share a common language with them outside of gestures, curse words, and kitchen lingo, but they gathered in a semi-circle as if to include him.

His shift was over. He’d technically clocked out, but he loitered until their vices were stomped under their shoes, and he snuffed his glowing ash on the wall behind him, and followed them inside.

Washing his hands first, he dried them on the towel tucked under the string of his apron tied around his waist, and set up a space on the flat top for him to occupy since the dinner rush had long since died, and the only patrons on the floor were drunks wandering in for greasy hashbrowns. He grabbed the four quart Cambro from the fridge beneath the prep area, and ladled enough batter for two large pancakes. Borrowing a station, he sliced up a ripe banana from the walk-in, and dropped it into a hot pan with a bit of butter, caramelizing them on the range while he waited for the pancakes to be flipped.

The guys behind him read off the few tickets, and carried their conversation from earlier. Eddie caught some of it, learning a few words here or there, but regardless of the language barrier, he knew they were talking about him. They were snickering with their heads together, pointing at the pancakes he was making despite being clocked out.

Eddie spoke with a sneaky grin, “If I make them for her, she’ll leave me the fuck alone on my day off.”

The guys may not have understood entirely what he meant, but his sunny disposition juxtaposed by his wry gaze communicated a universal plight: girls.

One of their hands landed hard between Eddie’s shoulder blades when they doubled over in a belly laugh, and the other one made whip-cracking sounds, calling him the same slang word he called the married cooks. It wasn’t worth it to attempt to correct them that these pancakes were not for his girl, but for his future migraine, so he hummed along with them, and flipped the pancakes with his right hand while tossing the bananas with a swift jerk of his left.

After their gossip, they went back to work, and Eddie grabbed a to-go container, loading it with the two pancakes and sliding the caramelized bananas on top. He brought it to the prep area to drizzle with chocolate sauce, and finished it off with heart-shaped strawberries, a dusting of powdered sugar, and a sprig of mint. He didn’t cut the strawberries that way with ulterior motives, it was just something he did when he had spare time in the morning. Cutting a wedge out of the stemmed top, and slicing them vertical. The customers liked it. It was cute, supposedly. There were no hidden intentions to him taking his time to place them just so around the box; it was merely him taking pride in how he plated his dish.

Clamping the container shut, he untied his apron, changed his shoes, and left out the back entrance, kicking pebbles under the crescent moon, and walking through the front door of the next building over. Gray concrete, a faulty elevator, ugly rugs to feign elegance, and high rise as far as ‘high rise when you live next a bunch of squatty buildings’ went. It was home, and it was blissfully dark inside.

Eddie worked his feet out of his tied-once-and-never-untied street shoes, and dropped his non-slip clogs next to them in a loud clatter.

He breathed. Inhaled deep. Sighed through his nose.

Quiet. Peaceful respite behind his eyelids.

The adrenaline ebbed. The hours of shouting and being shouted at, metal on metal clangs, timer beeps, and mechanical whirr of a ticket being printed out would never cease haunting his mind, but he should stop flinching from the imaginary sounds after a few hours. The pain stretching the length of his back should ease under a hot shower. The throbbing ache in his knees should lessen once he sleeps. The fatigue, like needles driven into his bones, should heal so he could be on his feet for thirteen more hours tomorrow.

Warmth worked its way beyond the calluses creating a barrier in his palm supporting the styrofoam container. Syrupy sweet hot sugar invaded his nostrils from the pancake bribe, battling the stench of his dried sweat and body odor baked into his t-shirt. The tiled entryway beneath his feet woke him out of his daze, and he slid his heavy-lidded gaze to the vacant couch; the comforter was folded, and the pillow was propped up, unslept on.

Briefly he wondered if you went out with your friends after work. But as he approached the kitchen, his dreams were crushed by a single closed cabinet door.

You were home.

You were home, and you weren’t on the couch, nor in the shower.

Eddie allowed his eyes to flutter closed as he hung his head back. In that position, he rolled the disappointment out of his shoulders, and braced them with something new.

Irritation.

Tamping the frustration in the pit of his stomach from bubbling up, he exhaled another calming breath, and opened the fridge, placing the pancakes exactly front and center amongst the fresh produce he was sometimes excited to create with, and sometimes slammed to the bottom of the trash when he was too exhausted and uninspired to do anything with their rotten corpses.

He prepared his expression into one of unbudging indifference. Flat, and unwilling to back down.

And yet, his nose scrunched when he pushed open the bedroom door, and there you were, as predicted, lounging amongst your hideous blankets spilling out from under you as if you were an opulent pearl nestled within an oyster shell.

The resentment built as he assessed your form delicately painted in a red glow from the ugly neon sign in the shape of a lipstick kiss tacked alongside his favorite band posters. He’d only lived with Steve long enough to feel comfortable decorating the blank walls, and you ruined the Rob Halford flow three days into your invasion. Your face was highlighted by the dim blue light of your laptop resting on your stomach, rising and falling with each gentle breath, and you were haloed by the Himalayan salt lamp crowding the nightstand. It’s trendy, you explained.

With vehemence, he flickered the light switch.

You cringed from the bright assault, and clacked your fingers on the keyboard, pretending you weren’t dozing off a second ago. “Can you go away?”

“What’re you doing in here?”

Unimpressed by his tone, you glazed your response in insolence. “What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m minding my own business.” At that, your attitude was solidified, along with how this interaction would go.

Eddie stared at you for a long minute. Not once did you acknowledge him. He watched your eyes dart across the screen, probably watching one of those Youtube videos where girls walked around exciting cities with a camera way too close to their face, and he dragged his gaze downwards, noticing you were still in your work clothes; though, your blouse and skirt were disheveled, and your pantyhose were discarded on the floor, still holding the vague shape of your legs, resembling a flattened rotisserie chicken.

He focused on your eyes again. Bloodshot, rimmed in red with a suggestion of water clinging to the outer corners where your eyelashes met, and sporting a hefty burden of bags beneath them.

“It’s Wednesday,” he reminded you, voice heavy in his chest, but sounding scratchy, and hollow. His throat was shot.

“Mm,” you hummed and glanced at the clock in the corner of your screen, “it’s Thursday, actually.”

White hot anger boiled in his veins, striking his skin like a leather lash. It simmered, popped, sizzled, boiled over. The yelling, the timers, the cacophonous clanging. The ticket machine, the keyboard, the stinging cut on his thumb. Smug fucking brat laying in his bed on his night to have it. It was sudden, it was stark, and it was hatred.

“Make a deal.”

“A deal?”

“A fucking deal,” he repeated. “You know, like we’ve been making?” He stopped himself short of calling you a dirty name, but you must’ve gathered it from his tongue’s hesitation, because you turned your head a few degrees to challenge his temper.

“Oh, lucky for you, there was a two-for-one deal at the store.”

You waved two middle fingers at him, showing a bit of teeth with your crooked grin.

The hatred festered, but not as vicious. The anger was there–oh, the anger was there–but the energy to keep this going hit its peak, and fizzled. There was no sense in reasoning with you. The pancakes in the fridge were for a different occasion, he couldn’t waste them on this, and he was too tired to come up with his own bet, deal, or favor. “Just think of something so we can get this over with,” he nearly begged.

After some consideration, you held your fist out for rock, paper, scissors.

“Where’s the option for a gun in my mouth?”

“Harsh,” you pouted. Instead, you pointed at the 20 sided die on the desk. He inclined his head, shaking it with a slow sort of intention, eyes wide to express his warning to knock it off, and give him a true answer, something to make this worthwhile.

Finding the whole ordeal dull, you returned your attention to your laptop, pressing the white earbud into your ear before unpausing the video.

It took seconds off his life, but you finally spoke again.

“How long were you in prison? Six years? Bet it’s been a while since you’ve seen one of these in the flesh.” Due to your satin cream blouse being unbuttoned at the neck, you dipped your thumb under the collar, and traced the vibrant temptation of your red bra strap in a long, deliberate stroke. You hooked the soft pad of your thumb under the luxury, and brought it out for his viewing pleasure. A moment later, you snapped it to your skin, and went back to typing, not once breaking concentration with your video.

Eddie’s fascination, however, was trained on the dainty crimson gift slipping under the shimmery cream, sliding against the soft slope of your shoulder.

Heat thrummed in his chest. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, sloshing his blood like viscous tidal waves, muting the clacky sound of your keyboard. Anger mixed with something more, something worse. It warmed his cheeks, and reignited the cold sweat prickling his back. It honed his curiosity, sinking every detail of the second tortoiseshell button on your blouse into his mind. Memorizing how the fabric around it went taut, and glinted honey at the height of your breath. Noticing how the bottom of your shirt was wrinkled and pulled slack, but still tucked into your pencil skirt. Remembering how the tight material hugged your thighs when you traipsed around the apartment. Although, the navy blue number was less defined now, fitting looser around your hips.

He didn’t know how long he was fixated by your clothing, until you sighed.

“Not enough for you?”

You asked it with forced casualness, he could tell. Your voice was too even, tone too polite, eyebrows too raised in mock indifference. You were introducing a line that had yet to be crossed. A door which, when opened, would give access to more possibilities than the usual bets, deals, and favors. An enticing offer, and he didn’t deny the nervous flutter of intrigue arousing his blood elsewhere.

But past the line was dangerous territory. Right? That’s where things got muddied, and feelings got involved.

Or maybe not. Because, above all else, he hated you, and you hated him.

This was a deal like any other.

“Maybe this’ll help,” you said, never breaking eyesight from the screen, its colors reflecting in your pupils.

You were the epitome of cool pinching the blouse between your fingers and slotting the buttons through the holes one after the other. Down, down, down to your navel, tugging either side of the shirt open, letting the elegant cream frame the aggressive scarlet.

Eddie was taken off guard.

The bra was more akin to lingerie than he expected. Its cups contained you like a poorly kept secret. Curves of red peonies covered your nipples–hard bud pressing against the center of the flower from the thrill of exploring a new end to your daily arguments. Your areolas peeked from between the petals, where the intricate lacework went see through, granting him a preview to the smooth flesh beneath.

Click clack, click clack, space bar, space bar, space bar, he swore you pressed your arms together to make your breasts rounder. Actually, he didn’t need to second guess. He saw the cusp of cleavage squish before his very eyes.

“Satisfied?” you inquired.

No, he ached.

The voice in his head was so automatic, so sure, he didn’t question it, either.

When he refused to verbalize the things which made him nauseous, his opulent pearl rolled onto her shoulder and lifted the laptop the pillow, turning over onto her stomach to engage with it solely, circling a manicured fingernail over the trackpad, and clicking.

To his surprise, the video on screen wasn’t of the vapid people you watched, but of a troubleshooting guide to the program your company was having you learn in order to teach it to the higher ups next week. (Or so he heard when you told Steve yesterday.) You tabbed out of the video, fixed a property in a column, checked the statistic it was evaluating, and added in an aesthetically pleasing green color before tabbing back.

He couldn’t parse how he felt about you having to do more thankless tasks off the clock, especially when you were clearly tired, but something else stole the last of his fiery anger, and doused his willpower to resist a glance.

Your habit of unzipping your skirt as soon as you walked into the apartment proved evident when you rolled over. The silky polyester lining slipped against your skin, shifting the long zipper from your hip to your backside. The halves parted, showing the end of the cream blouse, and a peek of skin. You adjusted how you laid, rocking your hips back and forth until you sank into the plush blankets, and propped your chin in your palm when you weren’t typing. Small movements working the skirt higher, and higher, bunching the fabric around the fat of your ass. Squirming, and stretching, tugging on your blouse, pulling, pulling, blouse, skirt, blouse, skirt, and then he saw it..

Red.

Delicate, feminine.

Tucked, hidden from anyone’s view but his, were the matching red panties to your bra. Trapped in a valley between thighs and ass, and stretching over the swell of your heat, embellishing the mouth watering desire in opaque lace strained firm against the outline of his treasure.

Eddie swallowed.

“Why’re you still in here?” you asked with a bite of annoyance. “You got to see a girl’s bra for the first time ever, probably. You should be celebrating, throwing yourself a party. In the living room. On the couch.”

The anger had returned like a slap of reality across his cheek. He narrowed his eyes at the back of your head, remembering why he loathed you with every fiber of his being. “I’ve seen a bra before.”

“Pictures don’t count.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

Your body jolted with a snort, and he flung open the door hard enough for it to bounce off the door stop. He heard your infuriating inhale, and slapped the lightswitch off, shutting the door behind him with excessive force before you could ask more demands of him. Gladly, he closed himself out of his own bedroom. The physical barrier under his trembling fist had never felt better, still gripping the knob as if he’d go back in there.

He wouldn’t.

He let go of the chilled metal and stalked down the hall, curbing himself from stomping out his frustration, only to throw himself onto the couch. Stomach burning with hunger, hatred. Chest heaving with rage. Pulse rising in his throat, beating against the ball chain necklace he wore. Breathing so hard, sounding as if he’d ran laps before collapsing onto his bed for the night, crossing his arms to squeeze his biceps, massaging his fingers down the muscle. Occupying himself. Distracting himself.

It wasn’t working.

He was mad.

Furious.

Draping his hand over his eyes, he gave himself a moment to make a decision, and pushed his bangs off his forehead. They stayed in their gravity defying position due to the oil. He needed to shower. He needed to clean himself of this day, and go to sleep. But he couldn’t.

The fever in his veins was too distracting. He needed to take care of it. Get rid of it.

Sitting up, he unfolded the comforter from the end of the couch, and propped the pillow against the armrest to angle his head slightly up, where he could see the hallway.

From his front pocket, he collected his phone and laid it on his stomach while he unbuttoned his pants, pinching the waistband together and pulling the zipper down, sighing through his nose at the relief of the lines he was crossing.

He grasped his phone and brought it close to his face. Cupped in one palm, and using the other hand to tap it twice. A streak of perspiration was left on the screen where he swiped in his passcode, using his index finger to open a private browser and type in a porn site. Any porn site. Whichever variation of the word porn + noun he thought of first. It didn’t matter much to him; that’s not where his preferences lie.

office worker

co-worker

secretary

office worker tight skirt

office worker pov skirt grinding

His brain went stupid for synonyms trying to narrow down his search. He didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, but he knew the ultra HD, professionally lit, fakey acting wasn’t it. He scrolled, and scrolled. Narrowed his search again. Ticked off boxes on the side. Tried broader genres. Went back to the results he was on, and traveled down the rabbit hole a few more pages until, at last, he found what suited him.

The thumbnail appeared promising. Dimly lit, sorta bad quality, and clearly shot at home with a woman whose body type wasn’t far off from what he was hoping for. He even appreciated the visual similarities in the amateur actress’ navy blue skirt, and off-white blouse. As long as he scrolled down a tad to crop out her face, it was perfect. Plus, it was easier to insert himself into the scene that way.

He clicked it, and– ”Jesus Christ,” he turned down the volume as quickly as he could, accidentally pressing down the two buttons on the side that took a screenshot and saved it to his gallery.

The video started a little further into the act than he anticipated.

Such a fucking idiot, Eddie, Jesus Christ. Sitting in thick silence, he waited to see if you’d heard, and once his face calmed of the embarrassed flush stinging his cheeks, he moved on.

Eddie worked his right hand under the comforter, but heeded his boxers as a layer of separation. At the first contact with the parts of him he denied aching for the bane of his existence, he allowed his eyes to flutter closed. Gently, he raked his fingernails down the base of his shaft, and over his balls. He cupped them. Felt their heft. Cradled them and dragged them softly upwards, letting them fall and stretch before repeating the motion, enjoying the tickly sensation of being the first thing he touched. His most sensitive, most susceptible part of himself. Meanly ignoring the other part of him twitching, throbbing, begging to be catered to.

He kept some fraction of his brain alert to the hallway, senses sharpened by the spike of adrenaline, listening out for any sound of you exiting the room. But most of him was focused on hitting the play button, sticking to his decision that he couldn’t wait to do this in the shower. He needed it now.

It started with the woman already in motion. Shot from the guy’s point of view laying on the bed, his obvious hardon pressing through his slacks into her pussy grinding down on him. Her skirt lifted with each motion, showing her black underwear. Not that he was complaining they weren’t red, but he didn’t concentrate on them.

He switched from playing with his balls to gripping his cock. Finally. It buzzed with the rush of pleasure, harder than it had ever been, even in his youth. His fingers hardly met through his boxers, but he encircled them the best he could, and started with fast, desperate, stunted strokes, getting himself to where the guy in the video was in a matter of pent-up seconds, clenching his ass to buck his hips up. Heart pounding. Inhales shaky from the speed at which he took care of his problem, exhales interrupted by muted huffs.

Maybe he should be embarrassed, but it didn’t take him long to feel that encouragement to keep going, keep going, keep going. Where each frantic pump along his length was better than the last. Where each accidental graze of his fingers over the lipped edge of his tip sprinted towards his bliss.

In the video, the woman dipped a finger between her lips and moved her panties aside.

There was a low hum in the back of his throat, engrossed by the wet warmth opposed to his dry fist.

Metal knob turning–door creaking–carpet groaning, step, step, step–

It was a fucking miracle he managed to close out of the window in his panic. His thumb missed it the first two times as fear coated him in a cold sweat, and the phone fell out of his palm, smacking him in the chin as you rounded the corner.

You didn’t spare him the time of day as you walked into the kitchen and got a glass from the cabinet. Didn’t bother looking at him as you stood at the fridge with your hip cocked out, holding the cup under the outer dispenser and depressing the button for ice.

The fridge made a mechanical whirr, and filled your glass. Ker-chunk, ker-chunk, ker-chunk, the ice cubes tinked into the cup for the longest seconds of his life. His hand was frozen mid-tug on his dick, and you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and nothing else. Truly, it hardly covered your ass. It clung to your hips, brushed the height of your thighs, and suddenly, he was checking how obvious the bulk of the comforter was over his lap, and if it creased when he moved his hand upwards.

Nothing. Not a fold out of place. He could keep it up. Stroke, by stroke, brushing his fingers over the head only, testing his limits to keep discreet while you switched to the other spout on the fridge for water.

Even when you turned to him, he massaged himself over his boxers, soaking the sticky slick beads of precum into the fabric.

“What?”

Your tone didn’t deter him from tracing the underside of his swollen head, caressing the glans with the same sort of sentiment he experienced in the homemade porn between a real couple–all gentle and nice.

He mustered enough brain cells to respond, “What? I’m already sleeping on the couch. Can’t you leave me alone for one night? Or are you that desperate for attention?”

None the wiser, you took a sip from your glass, and folded your other arm across your stomach, making it obvious from the natural sway that you weren’t wearing a bra. Probably weren’t wearing panties either..

Swallowing the ice cold water with a satisfied ‘ah’, you went on your merry way. “Just came to gawk at the bridge troll, is all. Night night!” Your annoying farewell was followed by the creak of the door, and the faint click of it closing.

What a fucking irritating person.

The anger bristled again. Definitely anger. It was there, lurking, when he rubbed at the sore spot on his chin and picked up his phone, unlocking it to stare at the homescreen.

There was no patience within him to find the video. Besides, the sanitized professional thumbnails on the homepage were enough to have him dropping his phone to the cushion crevices beside him, surrendering himself to his imagination. Nothing lived up to the scenarios in his head, anyway.

Before getting ahead of himself, he slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband, and gripped himself wholly. There was no sense in denying what he wanted: the raw desire of his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, not caring about creating a mess. It could be cleaned up later. He needed this. Now.

He immersed himself in the fantasy.

The visuals took place minutes ago, if he hadn’t backed down. It was based on you refusing to give him the bed, and instead of walking away from your bratty attitude, he lifted his chin, and broadened his chest with a confidence he didn’t possess. Fantasy Eddie had the courage to kneel on the mattress like he belonged there. Your body would dip, rock towards his imposing knees straddling either side of your calves, and in his strongest dreams, he acted out what should’ve happened.

If he had his way, he would begin with your hips. A single strong palm on the curve would have you hiking them up to greet him, and he was a gentleman. As soon as you presented him with the opportunity, he was scrambling to spread your legs so he could dip between them, eager to please. He wanted to know the sensation of coarse red lace scratching across his tongue; it would be a novelty only he would know. His hands would be on your upper thighs, bringing you closer, closer, to where his mouth awaited you. Persuading your face to the sheets. Putting a wicked arch in your back, granting him permission.

He’d angle his mouth to your clothed clit and collect spit to his bottom lip, parting, and lapping his tongue over the pretty thing, suckling it through the fabric. His nose would be to your cunt, inhaling the musky pheromones. Didn’t matter how long you’d been at work, proving yourself to people who would never appreciate you like he did. He cherished every bit of you so much. The heady scent intoxicated him like a drug, the dimples when he smashed the fat of your ass around his face, your silly whine when he pressed kisses up your pretty pussy. The anger was gone. Like that, he adored you. After all, you craved him. And it’d been a long time since he was wanted. It felt nice to not be rejected.

Eddie, Fantasy You gasped when the wet sound of him sucking your clit through your panties grew in fervor. He was drunk on you. Trying hard. Giving more. Licking at the dark patch he created. God, he loved it. He loved the evidence. He could suckle, moan, flatten his tongue like torture and just breathe on you until he fell asleep, waking up to nudge his teeth over the sensitive areas you presented to him. Spending hours getting you to your peak, over and over.

But in reality, he was approaching his end rather quickly.

My turn, sweetheart, he regretfully informed you.

Getting to his knees, he positioned himself behind you. His cock slotted so nicely against you; red lace meeting unzipped gray uniform pants, and he wasted no time stoking the flames from where he left off.

He clapped your cheeks around the hard outline of his cock. His black boxers stretched to their limits to contain him. There was a dark patch at the tip peeking out between your ass, growing with each slow, assertive grind he committed to, fucking himself into the curve of your cunt with ragged breaths. Losing himself. Mouth agape, and eyebrows pinched as his needy head was swallowed when he rocked his hips back, and reappeared with a rough thrust.

Again, it didn’t take long until he needed a break to make himself last longer.

He draped his weight over you as he slid his rough, calloused palms up the backs of your thighs, creating goosebumps along the sensitive flesh on his way to your sorry excuse for skirt. He bunched the pitiful thing to your waist, and reached for the hem of your shirt.

You hummed in approval, pressing against his lap.

It was hard to balance, but you supported him as he yanked your blouse up–sucking in a sharp breath when you moaned, and rutted yourself on his length–and he brushed his fingers along your soft skin in search for the bra clasp, and when he found it, he pulled the band tight. The latch gave. He caught sudden heft in his palm, cupping you and the bra together, massaging lightly until your nipple slotted between the base of two of his fingers, and he applied the gentlest pressure.

Oh fuck, you whined so nicely for him.

They’re extra sensitive after being caged all day, you explained.

Yeah? Does it feel good?

You nodded, cheek smashed against the wrinkled sheets.

He pinched harder.

Saliva gathered at the corner of your lips, spilling in a sticky string as you dragged your head in another nod, heavy-lidded eyes just visible through your lashes, open mouth panting for him.

True satisfaction spread like weightlessness from the pit of anger in his stomach. He wasn’t supposed to be making you feel good, not the person ruining the one place he found peace after six years of paranoia, but here he was, wishing the taste of your pussy lasted longer in his mouth. Here he was, anchoring his forearm alongside yours, gripping the same sheet you gripped while he beared his weight down on you, and pressed kisses to your clothed shoulders.

His other hand was trapped between you and the bed, but each pulse around your nipple was another long stroke on his cock.

The scene had been set. The build up and story line were crafted. Now, he could play.

He worked kisses under your collar, tasting the sheen of sweat at your hairline, leaving trails of spit to cool as he lolled his head on top of yours, resting his forehead amongst your hair, and he put his lips to the shell of your ear, feeling you shiver beneath him.

Do you think you can treat me that way, and get away with it? Fantasy Him asked. Think you can boss me around whenever you want? He punctuated his question with a hard, unexpected thrust, earning a gasp from your pretty mouth.

Turn over. He didn’t command it verbally, but when he took away his hand to smack the side of your ass, and sat back, you were aware of his unstated switch in position.

You laid on your back, legs spread for him. Skirt bunched around your hips, blouse fallen open, except for the one button remaining. He grasped his cock, and stroked himself through his boxers for you. His brows were drawn together in a gentle question, gaze locked onto yours. This was supposed to be about him, but he still asked, Is this okay? Is this what you want?

The source of his anger, his rage, his frustration–all the blame, burdens, and negativity he attributed to a single woman–opened her arms to him, and nodded.

He passed over your pussy to praise kisses to your stomach. Deft fingers working to undo the last button on your blouse, and explore upwards. Wet smacks of his sloppy gifts arched your back the higher he traveled, molding his large hands to your body. Brushing his rough fingers to the junction of your inner thigh and hip, and spreading you open so your pussy swallowed the fabric, wedging the red lace tight to your clit for later. Up, up, his kisses covered you, until he nosed at the underwire of your bra, and lifted it out of the way.

Fuck, Eddie.

You pushed his hair out of his face. The shorter curls fell from the low bun at his nape, and you tucked them behind his ear so you could watch his tongue lap and swirl at your nipple. Your fluttery moans were heaven, as were your tits being shoved in his mouth. You squirmed for him, clamored for him. You wanted him, needed him. Did you care that his hair was greasy? Did you care that dried salt crystals from sweat scratched your fingers when you cradled his jaw? Did you care about his smell from thirteen hours of being in a hot kitchen when you cupped him under the armpits, encouraging him with a buck of your hips to get back to business?

He supposed not, since it was his fantasy.

But just like reality, you were trying to boss him around.

Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?

You could hardly meet his gaze, eyes so heavy with lust you couldn’t keep them open long enough to beg.

He aligned himself, nudging the tip of his cock to your clit, and he savored the experience of watching the bliss wash over you. It took him a beat to realize, but he moaned in response to your moan. Watching you react from where he picked up his head from your chest, memorizing the fake vision of your face losing the usual harsh distaste for him. Your lips were better this way–lush, and making an effort to sound out his name as he drew his hips back–not sneering because you had the displeasure of asking him a question.

Still, he drove forward with haste. Cotton on lace. Layers of separation. Anything else was too intimate for how he wanted to fuck you, rough and fast, caring only about himself and not about your poor neglected clit, swollen and pleading for his soft tongue, only to get rough, unmeasured thrusts. Messy, and unintentional, and denying. Until you made them work for you.

You used the meat of his shoulders as leverage. Digging your fingers in, holding tight as you rocked with him and raised your legs, wrapping them around his ass. The squeeze of your thighs, and pressure built from your locked ankles tipped you into a better position, and now, his entire length was flush to your clit, not simply passing over the top of it.

All of him was touching you, touching you, touching you. Trapping his cock between your stomachs, damp with reignited sweat. Back to rutting against one another at a desperate pace, chasing the tension, the high. The snap of his hips. Your stuttered groans for more. The anger, the hatred. Festering under the surface, bubbling in your insolence. Present in his teeth grazing your throat, nipping at the pulse, kissing, sucking, licking, tasting.

You’re gonna make me cum. Even Fantasy You said it in a lower register, reaching where the molten resentment laid dormant.

He found the same gravelly animosity and warned you, “I’m too close, I’m too close.”

You cradled him tighter, burying your heads in each other’s embrace. Muscles quivering from effort, burning with each grind, tensing under curious hands finding new places to cling to, curves to admire. Until they stayed put.

Nails bit flesh. Strong fingers dug painfully at bone. Mouths fell open. Eyes closed. Writhing flesh on fabric, and flesh, you trembled under him.

I’m–mm, Eddie–I’m cumming–

His thrusts faltered, jerking into short bursts, and his gracious moans went high and tight in his throat, spilling out as he panted, “You make me feel so good, baby. Fucked you so good. I can’t–I’m cumming–fuck–”

Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–Fuck, Eddie–

–”Fuck,” he babbled aloud.

The climax took him to the dark apartment. The overwhelming shadows of sleeping in the lonely living room on the flat couch under an extra blanket not yet broken of its factory starch, scratchy on the skin. His muscles were still tensed into him curling in on himself, lifting his aching neck and shoulders off the pillow for a few more pumps of his hand sliding over his slick shaft, spreading the warmth oozing towards his hip, no doubt tangling the curly thatch of hair above the base. In lip-biting silence, he stroked himself, not daring to breathe after he knew he said something out loud from his imagination. He listened. Eyes straining to see the hallway.

His bangs stuck to the heavy sweat on his forehead.

His entire body was heated beyond belief.

Anticipation sat heavy on his tongue.

But as he came down from his peak, nothing happened. He stayed lonely. His heartbeat pounded against the guitar pick sticking to his chest, and that was it. Now his head was cleared of distractions, and he could sleep. The fantasy was a fantasy, and in this reality, he wouldn’t do this again. It was too weird to muddy the multitude of negative feelings he had for you with.. whatever this was.

A release, that’s what this was.

Kicking the blanket off, he swung his legs to the side to sit up, socked feet softened by the plush carpet. He pressed his palm over the sticky substance dripping downward, and soaked it up to the best of his ability. And as his cum hit the fresh air, and his inhale was cut short as he smelled his shirt, he thought about the shower he needed. And he thought about the dark patch on his boxers. And he thought about his clothes in the dresser in the bedroom.

Looking down, he inspected his gray pants, and groaned.

They were ruined.

So, so ruined and obvious as to what he was doing.

There was no way he could go into there and grab new clothes for a shower. The thought of facing you after this, and you seeing him in this pathetic state–and God, if you knew it was because of you, and because he couldn’t control himself–he’d rather die than admit you did this to him.

Fuck.

Couldn’t even go to his own room for some fucking clothes so he could shower after working all day.

Yeah, that confirmed it. He fucking hated you.

Hated you even more when he thought about you sleeping on his mattress, wrapped snug in his bedsheets wearing only a t-shirt with nothing else to cover you, and his dick twitched again for that red lace he knew was discarded in the laundry basket.

“Fuck my life.”

[robo-writing]

Sometimes I sit here and think about baby Logan, you know the one from the first X-men movie? With the grey hoodie? Yeah that baby Logan. Anyway, I think about Deadpool pulling worst Logan into more time shinaganen shit and of course worst Logan’s gf (who was his gf in his last universe but of course died during the attack, but this one either never met her universe Logan or something) and somehow, she runs into baby first Xmen Logan wearing the grey hoodie and running around clueless as where the hell he is, until he bumps into a surprisingly pretty woman who for some reason is cooing over him and calling him a precious baby,(and did she just pspspspsps at me?? I’m not a fucking cat? No the hair doesn’t look like cat ears?! The hell wrong with you lady?!) and he only gets her name before a older version of him in a gaudy yellow suit shows up to grab her and take her away, grumbling about having to keep track of two overgrown toddlers while a mouthy guy in a red leather suit says some stupid shit before following after the older version of Logan into some strange portal. Of course soon after baby Logan gets found by Xavier and when he ask who the woman named y/n is, Xavier just looks at him confused. (Of course perhaps that Logan will meet y/n a few years down the road, or he never sees her again, a shame really, she was quiet a looker, despite being so weird, he can stand being called a baby or a kitten by her again)

Waking up in a strange building is one thing, but walking out of an elevator to find a woman starting him down is another—especially when she keeps calling him kitty.

“Oh my god, look at you! You’re so young!” Her voice is high-pitched, oohing and ahhing at him like some kind of attraction. Maybe it’d piss him off more if you didn’t look so cute doing it.

“Cute lil kitten aren’t you? And your ears are so fluffy!”

You reach up to touch his hair, and he would grab your hand if someone else didn’t already beat him to it.

A gaudy yellow suit is the first thing he sees, then—what the fuck?

“Doll, I told you not to go wandering off,” the stranger says, and it’s now that his day goes from bizarre to fucking impossible because he’s staring at himself. Older, sure, but his voice, his body, damn near everything—

“Oh peanut! It’s time to go!” Says another man in a bright red jumpsuit, and he can hear the other man groan in response.

“Alright, you heard him.”

“Aw,” you complain, following after the two of them. “Wanted to pet him before we go.”

You wave to the younger man behind you, giving him a wink along with your name. “Come find me when you’re all grown up kitty! I’ll be waiting for you!”

“Wait—!”

His words fall on deaf ears, the trio disappearing soon after in a yellow doorway. His jaw drops, unsure of what just happened was real or if he’s just high as a fucking kite.

After a couple of introductions and many confused glances, he finds out that the three people he met are not students or professors, and that no one in the room had ever seen them before. Years pass along with many, many, life changing events and his odd welcome party becomes a memory of the past.

That is, until he finds out Charles has hired a new school counselor, and she looks just a bit too similar to be a coincidence. Once he gets over the shock he extends his hand, to which you accept.

“Names Logan.” He says, and you give yours in return, the same name you gave him all those years ago. It’s now that you point to his hair with a small smile.

“Do you style your hair or does it always come out like that?”

His eyebrow raises, unsure of the line of questioning. “Not really? Why do you ask?”

You open your mouth, then close it with a shake of your head. “Forget it, you’re gonna think it’s silly.”

“Oh yeah?” Logan replies. “Try me.”

You bite your lip, debating on whether you should speak, eventually choosing to bite the bullet. “Well, it’s just that your hair kinda looks like ears. Y’know, like a cat.”

His chuckle is instant, evolving into a laugh. You’re getting more and more nervous, afraid you said something wrong until his hand gives you a good pat on the shoulder.

“Y’know, you’re the second girl to tell me that,” he muses, leaning in close. “But come to think of it, ‘kitty’ has a better ring to it, don’tcha think?”

[lovelookspretty]

chrysanthemums

drew starkey x reader zombie apocalypse au

— “you’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

content: zombie apocalypse, death, violence, guns, lowkey actor!drew x camp counselor!reader in an apocalypse, drew saving reader & reader being stubborn asfuck i fear

authors note: me after rewatching twd asf LMAO im on s6. if u wanna be added to the tag list for this upcoming series, feel free to lmk thru replies, anons, dms, or reblogs !!

drew steps into the house, its rotting frame creaking under his weight. the walls sag like old men, peeling wallpaper revealing layers of neglect beneath, as if countless lives have been lived and lost within these confines.

he shuts the door behind him, careful not to lock it; the last thing he needs is to be trapped in here if things go south.

his heart pounds in his chest as he takes another step forward, his eyes scanning the dark corners of the room, wide and alert. he grips his baseball bat tightly, knuckles turning white against the wood.

the floorboards groan underfoot, each creak sounding like a warning, and he winces at the noise. if there’s a stiff inside this house, it’ll hear him for sure. every instinct screams at him to turn back, but he forces himself to move deeper inside, driven by a desperate hope that maybe—just maybe—he’ll find something useful.

he drops the bat to one hand, using the other to push open the door to the nearest room. the stench hits him like a wall, forcing him to pull his mask up over his nose, just below his eyes, and he glances around.

he rummages through the debris, sifting through old clothes and broken furniture. there’s nothing here but memories, and he wipes his hands on his pants in frustration.

he turns to leave, swinging the door back open, but he’s met with the cold steel of a gun pressed to the side of his cheek.

“don’t . . move,” a voice commands, low and steady. he freezes, heart racing, eyes darting to the figure standing before him. and you’re the one there, gun raised. it isn’t anything fancy, just a glock 19 you scavenged from a body at an overrun gas station weeks ago.

your finger rests near the trigger, tense and ready.

you size him up, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. drew can feel the heat radiating off your body, but once you see that he’s just some random guy, you lower the gun, stepping back slightly. “jesus christ,” you mutter.

he watches you, the gun hangs loosely at your side now, but he can see the edge of caution still lingering in your posture. your eyes are wary, scanning him for signs of threat, and he takes a slow step back, raising his hands slightly in a gesture of peace.

he can see the shadows under your eyes, the blood on your skin and clothes.

“i thought you were one of ‘em,” you say as you regain your composure. you reach down and grab the bag of cans you’d found just moments ago. the metal clinks softly as you pull it off the floor.

you don’t want to linger any longer. the silence stretches, and you know you need to keep moving, find your next shelter, your next meal. you turn sharply on your heel, ready to head out the door, but the moment you step toward the kitchen, you hear him behind you.

“hey— no, wait!” drew’s voice cuts through the silence, and he steps forward, but you quickly glance back over your shoulder, every instinct telling you to keep your distance. “one’f who?”

he quickly pulled his mask down from his face, revealing his expression—breathless and earnest, like he’s just realized how much he needs you in this hellish world.

“nobody,” you reply, your voice sharper than intended. your eyes narrow at him. he places his bat on the ground beneath him, then raises his bare hands slightly as if to show you he means no harm, that he’s unarmed, but you can’t shake the feeling that this could all turn sideways in an instant.

“look,” he says, his voice casual yet urgent, “we should— we should stick together. it’s safer that way, right?”

you don’t falter, “not happening.” you start moving again, but he quickly intercepts you, stepping toward your path.

“c’mon,” he presses, “you can’t be out here alone. it's a death sentence. we have a better chance if we watch each other’s backs. there are worse things out there than me.” his eyes scan the room, then dart back to you, a flicker of desperation beneath the charm.

you squint at him, trying to gauge if he’s being genuine or if it’s some trick to win your trust. “and how do i know you’re not one of those worse things?” you retort, standing back on one of your legs. your mind races with the memories of the past year—trust has gotten you burned more times than you can count.

“because . . . i’m not a monster,” he replies, dropping the friendly act. “i’m just tryin’ to survive. there’s safety in numbers.” he pauses, seemingly aware of your silence. “i’m drew, by the way,” he adds, but you don’t respond with your name, keeping that information to yourself as a protective measure.

you look him over, “i don’t need a partner,” you insist, the words feeling more like a defense than a conviction.

“maybe not,” he concedes, his voice softening, and he follows you into the small kitchen, “but you don’t have to do this alone. just . . . think about it. we could cover more ground, find better supplies.”

you shake your head. “i’ve done fine on my own,” you argue. drew’s gaze is steady, not giving up on you, and it annoys you more than it should. you take a step back, glancing toward the door.

“look, we could—”

“no,” you cut him off sharply, your patience thinning. “you don’t know me, and i don’t need deadweight slowing me down.”

he opens his mouth, likely to say something else, but you turn abruptly, stepping outside into the dim light of the fading day. as you walk toward your car, a small hatchback parked in the driveway, you can feel his presence behind you, like a shadow you can’t shake off.

“where are you going?” he calls, his voice trailing after you.

“my car,” you reply curtly, not bothering to look back. your mind races with the possibility of getting out of here, of leaving him behind. but then a small voice in the back of your head—one that you’ve trained yourself to ignore—reminds you that you can’t keep running forever. maybe it would be easier to team up, to have someone who knows how to navigate this decaying city.

“do you even have gas?” he asks, quickening his pace to catch up with you, his footsteps crunching on the gravel. “we should check—”

“i know my car,” you snap, opening the door and peering inside. a few old cans roll around on the floor, remnants of a past scavenging trip. it’s not much, but it’s yours. “i can handle myself.”

“i believe you,” he says. “but gas is running low everywhere. i could help with that, you know. if you let me.” he leans against the car, his baseball bat resting against his thigh. you can’t help but glance at it, reading his mannerisms.

no.

you slip into your car. your heart races as you grip the steering wheel, torn between the urge to drive away and the nagging feeling that you’re leaving someone behind. glancing in the rearview mirror, you catch a glimpse of drew as he watches you leave.

there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes, but you shake it off, convincing yourself that he’ll manage. he’s resourceful, right? he’ll find a way to survive, just like he’s been this whole time anyway.

the engine hums to life, and you pull away, the tires crunching against the gravel. the sun dips lower in the sky, and you remind yourself that you can’t afford to be weak—not now, not in this world.

as you drive, the evening air grows cooler. it’s getting dark. then, ahead, you spot movement. a dog is darting between a cluster of empties and a man, barking wildly. your instincts kick in, and you slow down, eyes narrowing as you assess the situation.

the man chasing the dog doesn’t look like its owner. there’s a wildness in his eyes, a desperate edge to his movements, and the knife glinting in his hand sends a chill down your spine. this isn’t a rescue mission; it’s a hunt.

you stop the car just in time, your heart pounding in your ears as the empties turn their heads, slow and shambling, drawn to the sound of your engine. you curse under your breath, the instinct to protect the dog outweighing your better judgment. you can’t let them hurt it, and you can’t let the dog end up being that man’s dinner.

grabbing the machete from the passenger seat, you open the door and step out into the fading light. the dog continues to bark, but you move swiftly, cutting through the first two like butter, the blade slicing into their skulls. blood and decay spray against your skin, but you push the discomfort aside.

the dog’s barking intensifies, and you leap into action, striking down another empty. you feel the rush of your heart as you move, each swing of the machete is quick and precise, but the smell of rot fills the air, overpowering and sickening, making it hard to concentrate.

but you can’t stop now. you push forward, cutting through the ranks of the undead, clearing a path toward the man and the dog. you’re almost there when he notices you, eyes narrowing in irritation. he shifts his weight, ready for a fight.

he lunges toward you, and you barely dodge his first strike, the blade missing you by inches. you sidestep, retaliating with a swing of your machete. he blocks you, and you can feel your heart racing as you circle him, trying to find an opening.

he charges again, and you duck as his knife whips past your ear. you retaliate with a slash of the machete, catching him across the arm. he hisses in pain, dropping his knife, but he doesn’t back down, lunging forward with renewed fury.

you back away, but the ground shifts beneath you. you stumble, catching yourself just before you lose your balance, but he’s on you, driving you back toward the treeline. you slam your foot down, pushing against him, but he pushes harder, and you feel yourself going down.

you grapple, fists flying as you wrestle for control of your machete. his grip tightens around your wrist, and for a moment, panic surges within you. you can’t let him win—not now, not like this. with a sudden burst of strength, you twist your body, throwing your weight against him, and finally, finally, you manage to free your machete.

without hesitation, you drive it into his neck, feeling the sickening squelch of flesh giving way. he gasps, surprise flooding his features as you twist the blade, but before you can pull the weapon free, he collapses, taking you with him as you tumble down a hidden slope you hadn’t noticed, “shit!”

the world spins around you as you roll, slamming against the ground hard enough to rattle your bones. pain erupts in your head as you hit a rock. the last thing you see before darkness creeps in is the dog barking at the top of the hill, confused and agitated.

then everything fades away into silence.

you wake slowly, vision blurring as you try to make sense of the world around you. a dull ache pulses through your skull, and your body feels heavy, weak. blinking, you try to take in your surroundings.

a small fire crackles in front of you, the orange flames licking at the night air. it’s dark, and the sky above is blanketed in stars. confusion prickles at your mind—where are you?

you shift, but your head throbs with a vengeance, and your muscles feel like lead. beneath you, something hard gives slightly under the pressure: a backpack wrapped in a jacket to act like a pillow, just something to lay on. you hadn’t even registered it was there until now. as you move, the material rustles, and a small twitch of pain shoots through your neck.

god, your head hurts.

blinking again, you force your vision to focus. in your peripherals, you spot the dog from before. it’s lying nearby, tail flicking with calm awareness. oh—right. the dog. you were protecting it before everything went sideways, before that asshole with the knife and the tumble down the hill.

the hill.

the guy died.

he’s an empty.

panic grips you, and you spring up, or at least try to like the empty will attack you at any moment—your limbs are weak. your hands automatically search for your machete. first, your boot. nothing. then, the sheath that’s supposed to be strapped to your calf. but it isn’t there either.

panic claws at your chest, making it hard to breathe. your leg is wrapped in a makeshift bandage, clean but light, and you can’t feel a thing from it. what the hell happened?

your breath quickens, a desperate, uneven rhythm as you struggle to find your weapon around you, your fingers scrabbling at dirt and a few wood chips. where is it?

that’s when you hear him. “relax,” the voice says, dry. “you’re not exactly in fighting shape, anyway.”

your eyes snap to drew. he’s sitting a couple feet away, leaning against the base of a tree. there’s a bar clamped between his teeth, and he’s tearing off a piece with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion. he chews, watching you with that same exasperated look he wore back when you left him on the road.

the day hasn’t been kind to him, either; his face is lined with fatigue, and his clothes are more scuffed and dirty than before. the granola bar he’s eating must’ve come from some recent scavenging effort, something you don’t remember finding yourself. at least he hasn’t gone through your supplies—or maybe he has. you wouldn’t know.

you glance around the makeshift camp. your hatchback sits a tree or two away, its dirty, beat-up exterior looking just as you’d left it. a tiny sense of relief washes over you, though you’re still on edge.

the dog from earlier trots up to you, sniffing your leg before nuzzling your head. you watch it, feeling a rare warmth unfurl in your chest. it’s safe. you’d saved it. no more running, at least for now.

drew’s still sitting there, silent as he chews, gaze unfocused and distant, watching the dark woods. he hardly notices you looking at him until he turns slightly, catches your eye, and acts. biting down on the bar to hold it in place, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out another granola bar.

without a word, he tosses it over. it lands in front of you, and you stare at it, your lips pressing into a thin line. drew mutters something under his breath. “not much, but it’s what i could find this morning. for both of us.”

you don’t move. you’re too stubborn to accept his food or the silent offer of care. your hand flexes against the dirt, trying to push yourself to your feet. drew sees you trying to stand and quickly drops his bar, scrambling into a crouch. he moves forward with practiced precision, catching your wrists just as you’re about to collapse again. he holds your arms gently but firmly, pinning you back against the makeshift pillow.

“fuck—!” you yelp, frustration breaking free. rage sparks in your eyes, and you glare up at him, teeth clenched, breath coming in shallow gasps. drew is hunched over you, worry creasing his forehead, his gaze scanning your face and hair for any signs of new injuries or, god forbid, crawling insects.

“what the hell is wrong with you?” you spit out.

“what’s wrong with me?” he echoes, voice even but laced with exhaustion. “what the hell is wrong with you? you nearly killed yourself trying to play hero. maybe let someone help you for once.”

he lingers there, doesn’t pull back, still making sure you’re not about to hurt yourself—or him.

you grow quiet again, the fight draining from your body as drew watches you closely, his shoulders tense, but when it becomes clear you aren’t about to launch another desperate attempt to stand, he releases his grip on your arms and leans back. he picks up the granola bar you rejected, his movements resigned.

you sit up, slower this time, shooting him a glare as your hand moves cautiously to your leg. your fingertips brush the bandage. it’s secure but not overly tight. you feel the slightest prickle of guilt mixed with irritation as you look back at him.

drew meets your gaze, his jaw set. “when you fell,” he begins, voice low as he swallows, looking down at his granola bar, “you scraped your leg. nothin’ that’s gonna kill you, but it was bad enough to need wrapping. infection out here is just a different way to die. we can’t afford that.”

you catch the way he says ‘we,’ and your brow furrows. “we?” you echo, your voice colder than you mean it to be.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “yeah, we. as in, both of us. like it or not, we’re out here together now. you got hurt trying to save that dog, and—hell, i know you think you don’t need anyone, but . . .” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “i couldn’t just leave you there. especially when that stiff was gonna come back to life while you were out.”

your eyes narrow, “i didn’t ask for you to find me. or to save me,” you snap, bitterness lacing your voice. the implication hangs in the air: you’d rather be on your own, even injured and vulnerable, than owe anything to him.

drew’s mouth twists. “yeah, well, maybe you didn’t. but i found you anyway, and that’s where we’re at. it’s not just about what either of us wants anymore; it’s about surviving. and as much as it annoys you, we have a better shot together than apart.”

you grit your teeth and your mind fights the idea, refusing to accept that this stranger—this person who insists on sticking around—might be right.

he studies you for a long moment, the firelight reflecting in his eyes. “you gonna tell me your name?” he asks, breaking the silence, his voice softer than before. for him, it’s been a full day since he first introduced himself, and yet he’s still left in the dark about who you are.

you clench your jaw, your lips pressing into a thin line as you consider staying quiet again.

his gaze is steady. “you think i’m a liability?” he asks you.

“i know you are,” you reply, tilting your head. “and if you keep bothering me, i might just throw you to the empties myself.” it comes out half-jokingly, but it’s a warning that carries weight—an unspoken understanding that you will do what it takes to protect yourself.

“empties—yikes. and that’s a bit harsh, don’t you think?” he replies, a lopsided smile breaking through his frustration.

“harsh is surviving another day in here,” you say. “i can handle myself, thank you very much. if you can’t keep up, then you’ll find yourself with the rest of them.” you nod around you, not an actual direction, indicating the danger that lurks just beyond the trees you can see from there.

he shifts his weight, contemplating your words. “i’m not asking you to babysit me. i can keep up,” he insists. “i just think we could help each other. you might be able to throw me to the stiffs, but what happens when there’s more than just one? or when you run out of supplies?”

“i’ll take my chances,” you respond. “i’ve gotten this far on my own. it’s worked for me.”

he sighs, clearly exasperated but not willing to give up. “you’re stubborn,” he states, but he can’t help but admit that he admires it about you. “but that won’t get you everywhere. sometimes you need to lean on someone else.”

you shake your head. “i said no. if you keep pushing, i swear—”

“you’ll throw me to the stiffs, yeah, i get it,” he interrupts, a wry smile playing on his lips. “but let me just say, it’s a hell of a lot easier when you’re not facing down a horde alone.”

you hesitate, contemplating his words. trust doesn’t come easy, not when you’ve seen what people are capable of when pushed to their limits, even though you can go for a companion out here.

“you don’t even know where to look for supplies,” you say, trying to sound tougher than you feel. you can almost hear your heart thudding in your chest, “i’ve been doing this for months. i can find what i need.”

“you act like you’re the only person in this universe who’s been practically living in a cemetery this last year! it’s getting harder out here,” he replies, his eyes serious now. “you’ll wish you had someone watching your back. you probably already have.”

you push your hands into your pockets, feeling the rough edges of the cans you collected earlier. the truth is, the thought of partnering up is enticing, but the fear of betrayal hangs heavy in the air.

you let out a reluctant breath, muttering, “y/n.”

he doesn’t miss the way you almost bite down on the name, as if even giving that small piece of yourself away is a battle. but drew’s expression softens, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. it’s not a grin of triumph but rather a look of someone who knows that even the smallest steps matter.

“y/n,” he repeats, testing the sound, as if committing it to memory. “nice to meet you, officially.”

he shifts slightly, his eyes searching yours. “look, just think about it. we’re stronger together. and if it helps, i promise i won’t let you down.”

you hesitate, glancing back at him. there’s a flicker of something—a potential alliance, perhaps—but the instinct to protect yourself runs deeper than any desire for companionship. finally, you turn your back on him, determined to get to your car.

“fine,” you say, voice steady but laced with reluctance. “but if you try anything—”

“you’ll be the first to know,” he cuts in quickly, a ghost of a smile appearing as the tension between you both shifts, just a fraction, toward something resembling partnership.

early tags: @iissza @lotuslovers @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @yootvi @skyslowalking @hoelesslyt @ariiwritess @beebeerockknot @0-tatiana-0

[duskyvenus]

444: Written in the Stars

A PAC about the person who is the one for you 💖 Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Open your eyes and choose the photo that speaks to you. Six piles left to right. This is for entertainment purposes only, take what resonates.

Pile 1

Your person likes/has cats or cats can be significant in your relationship. This person really likes nature and animals. They like listening to music and may have a record player at home. Could also be an artist. A highly sensitive person. They see beauty in everything. They like taking photos to capture memories. May have brown hair or brown eyes. March and April might be important. This person is a bit melancholic and absentminded at times (?) It can be hard to notice at first but they have a lot on their mind. Nevertheless they know that they are more sensitive than most people and try to stay hopeful. You could feel resilience and healing energy oozing from them when you talk to them. They could also be a therapist or counselor or someone who studies psychology. They have the vibes of a very calm and nice teacher who minds their own business. They know how powerful words can be and they insist on maintaining peace. A very helpful person. "I know you can do it but let me do it for you" kind of person. Numbers and signs: 33, 3, 19, 14, Pisces, Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Cancer, Leo

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 2

Your person likes coffee or tea. They like celebrating their wins. I'm seeing cakes and lots of smiling faces. They are definitely very outgoing. They like forming meaningful relationships, not just mindless networking. They have creativity and a lot of ideas, so they could be a content creator or influencer. Sharp, spontaneous and open-minded. They're also financially secure; I'm seeing a job in finance. And they rely on people a lot more than they should? Maybe because they are looking for something that they can't find in a job. I'm seeing some co-dependency. They carry a lot of nostalgia and regret in their heart; someone who feels homesick for people. They may have studied anthropology and sociology. Couple outfits or couple activities is their thing. The type of person who gets hurt by people but still cannot imagine a whole life without a partner. June or October might be significant. They collect things like stamps or shells or dried flowers. Their house could look like a museum. YOLO could be their motto. Numbers and signs: 25, 1, 11, 13, Libra, Sagittarius, Aries, Leo, Taurus, Pisces

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 3

This pile has some young energy. Someone with a competitive spirit. They have this spoiled princess/prince persona for the people that don't know them very well. In reality, they are someone who works very hard to achieve success and they could be very smug about their accomplishments which might put some people off. I'm sensing that they believe in manifestation and law of attraction. They're also a bit defensive and guarded so it's hard to get to know them. I think they are someone who just wants to have control over their own life. They might have grown up in a situation where they didn't have much control over decisions concerning them so now, they are just trying to get their power back. They learned to stand up for themselves so now the people that could no longer control them are not happy about it. They made peace with it though. They're focusing on making their pinterest board dream life come true. One of their biggest dreams is to live in a beautiful house. January and August could be important. Numbers and signs: 16, 8, 5, 4, Scorpio, Virgo, Pisces, Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries, Sagittarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 4

Your person is everywhere but also nowhere. They remind me of shows like my liberation notes, they feel like a warm cup of tea that comforts you at the end of a stressful day. They are the “always the artist but never the muse" trope. Similar to pile 1, they are soft spoken and kind. They fit in but they don't feel seen. They like journaling their thoughts because they feel so much. "I don't know where to put it down" Despite this, they have a small group of friends that feel like soulmates or soul family to them. Getting closer to them can be hard because they just enjoy their own solitude that they don't feel the need to be with someone all the time. Very independent. When you get to know them though, you will find that they are very accepting and funny even. A true friend and a loyal partner. They will love to share their interests and hobbies with you. They desire someone who gets them on a spiritual level and they will always be there for you. They really value loyalty and a no bs attitude. For some of you, they could be from a different culture/country. They can probably speak many languages. The type to learn your native language so that communication is never a barrier. Numbers and signs: 32, 13, 14, 5, Virgo, Gemini, Pisces, Leo, Libra, Capricorn, Scorpio, Aquarius

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 5

This person has an elusive persona. The cold and rich male lead character of a manhwa/drama. They prefer night over day; might be a night owl. They are secretly a hopeless romantic. They need someone who is like sunshine. Initially they give off this dark, serious and mature vibe but underneath they have a very soft core. They are a very caring and nurturing person but that energy has been stifled because of their environment. The reason why they act so serious is because they don’t want people to take advantage of them. To them, you are like a warm ray of sunshine that makes them feel alive again. They hate authority. They hate having all these responsibilities that tie them down and keep them busy. They are deserving of their position because of their hard work and leadership qualities, but sometimes they just want to run away from it. They feel that they have a different purpose. However, they could be hesitant to move on from their comfort zone. Out of all the piles, this pile is the most eager to meet you. They said, “you have so much light, the plants grow towards you”. Numbers and signs: 25, 8, 14, 3, Capricorn, Virgo, Leo, Cancer, Taurus, Aries, Libra

Thank you for reading!!

Pile 6

This pile has a very endearing energy. Someone who goes through all of it and yet chooses to be kind. “Memories are all I have” A very poetic or sentimental kind of person who struggles in making decisions. Also, they like humor based on their own pain. They like visiting places that are off the grid and collecting random things. They often dress up to go nowhere. They tend to do a lot of silly things that wouldn’t make sense to the average person because they are silly, duh. Quite the hopeless romantic too. Apart from all the silliness, they are avoidant of the reality because they often dissociate and have tendency to spiral into inner turmoil. They may struggle to understand their own feelings. All this is hidden under the persona of being the happy go lucky friend. In the end, they just want to bond over the little things and enjoy the mundane tasks of everyday life with someone. They may work in a field related to children or history. May, September could be significant. Numbers and signs: 26, 6, 2, 18, Cancer, Scorpio, Gemini, Pisces, Virgo, Libra, Aries

Thank you for reading!!

[lua-magic]

Seventh house sign and what you attract in your life

Here, I am mentioning about the sign in which your seventh house falls, and not the planets.

Planets I will discuss in my later blog.

Seventh house Aries.

You will attract partner who has martian qualities.

Could be short tempered and ready to fight, now if you have planets here, like malefic planets then it shows frequent fights with partner, but if you have benefic here, then effect would be reduced.

Mars not alway represents fight, but good Mars represents safety, security and possesive and protection.

So, partner could be possessive and make you feel safe and secure as well as well.

Seventh house in Taurus.

Your spouse will have all the qualities of Venus, self love, self care, obsessed with beauty and food, shopholics, love to dress and groom.

Taurus is also quite logical sign and agressive as well, so partner would be logical and aggressive and flirtatious as well.

Seventh house in Gemini.

Partner will have all the qualities of Mercury like communication, skilled, looks quite young, child like, playful and big prankster and sarcastic.

Mercury is asexual so spouses could be detached sexually.

Seventh house in cancer.

Spouse would be emotional, and could cry easily, and you have to communicate with him/her emotionally.

Spouse could also have all mother like emotions, and probably think you as their kid more than spouse.

Seventh house in Leo.

Baundaries, baundaries and baundaries.

Remember my seventh house Leo ladies and gentlemen never cross your baundaries because you are dealing here with king .

So maintain your baundaries.

Spouse could think highly about themselves, and their ego could get hurt fast. They respect and love themselves alot

Seventh house in Virgo.

Love to analyse you and judge you.

They take out all the mistakes in you and constantly find faults and do lot of nitpicking.

Here, you need to draw clear baundaries and tell them what is acceptable and what is not

Seventh house in Libra.

Loves to communicate, all friends like character, quite libral and fun loving character and balanced emotionaly.

You both will be like ☯️ yin and yang.

Seventh house in Scorpio

You will spouse who struggled alot in their past and has lot of past life emotions and traumas stored.

You must support them emotionally.

Scorpio is also sign of secrets and occult, so your partner could be secretive and even into occult.

Seventh house in sagg.

You guys will attract spouse who are like teacher and counselor to you, they would love to advise you and correct you.

Quite Frank and upfront about your mistakes and help you to make long terms plans for you .

Seventh house in Capricorn.

Native attracts partner who are workholic, logical and give importance to work life

Native could also marry their colleagues or meet their partner in work.

Seventh house in Aquarius.

Native attracts partner with large friends Group and are quite popular in their friends, partner is ambitious and probably could have large fan bas on social media.

Seventh house in piesces.

Native attracts soulmate from their past life

They could dream of their soulmate alot before or after meeting them.

Especially, if women has their Jupiter or seventh lord and man has Venus or seventh lord in piesces then it is mostly past life connection.

Mercury in seventh house gives native karmic connections, and native stays friends with their ex as well.

They usually marry their friends and and have very friendly relationship with their partners.

Venus in seventh house gives native connections who are quite fast to move on after break-up, as Venus is fast moving planet. Venus here gives partner who loves to spend money as well and are flirty in nature..

Mars here creates fight in relationship, untill and unless you marry partner who has exalted Mars

Mars seventh house natives should look for people whose Mars is exalted, then only it will be an energy match.

Sun in Libra, could create marital problems and ego clash, such natives are advised to be more grounded in relationship.

Jupiter here, gives spiritual partner, and also restricts sexual life pleasure.

Saturn in Libra people go for long term relationship, as Saturn is exalted here.

Moon here again gives multiple partners and relationship and cause dissatisfaction from their own partner.

South node creates first obsession with marriage and at later stage native becomes detached to marital life .

North node gives multiple relationship, and high sexual desires, hence, native should be careful of heartbreaks.

[livlaughloveluke]

Hello! I love your work by the way it genuinely shows the characters so so well! I was wondering if you could do a smau of luke with a brown skin curly haired daughter of Poseidon? It could be a beach date with the two of them and then Percy loosing his mind cause “the beach is our place!” And Clarisse full on forgetting Chris and thirsting over Y/n while Luke is just enamoured with her? It’s so long I’m sorry x

ᡣ𐭩 𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗮

brown!daughter of poseidon!reader x luke castellan smau 🫧

IN WHICH.. two campers at camp half-blood go on a beach date and receive some very strong opinions !

warning! this smau contains- cussing // really short // use of “y/n”// that’s about it..

[a/n]- i combined my og smau with the twitter au ! they are so much fun to make omg

🎧- red wine supernova by chappell roan

liked by iamlukecastellan, grover_u.w, and 789 others

therealy/n- bro knew a spot tagged iamlukecastellan

view comments..

urfavpercyjackson- uhm HELLO?? i thought the beach was our thing.

↳ therealy/n- you took annabeth last week

↳ urfavpercyjackson- irrelevant.

iamlukecastellan- we should do this more often

↳ therealy/n- you’re just saying that because you got to see me in a swimsuit

↳ iamlukecastellan- or maybe it’s because i love my beautiful girlfriend?? (it’s the swimsuit)

annabethchase- do me and percy act this cringy??

↳ therealy/n- yup!

grover_u.w- my favorite camp half-blood couple 💕

liked by creator

clarisselarueisbetterthanu- oh my GODS 🤤😍

↳ iamlukecastellan- touch grass

chrisofficial- THIS is why i had to watch all of the hermes cabin?? so luke could take a trip to the beach??

↳ therealy/n- thanks chrissy ☺️

liked by urfavpercyjackson, therealy/n, and 305 others

iamlukecastellan- museum date with my favorite work of art 🖼️

view comments…

annabethchase- wait wait wait the museum is OUR THING. does our sibling bond not even matter anymore?

↳ urfavpercyjackson- EXACTLY. WE MUST REVOLT !

↳ iamlukecastellan- you guys can double date with us ☺️

chrisofficial- genuine question. how tf do you guys convince mr. d to let you go to these things ??

↳ iamlukecastellan- favorite counselor privileges 🤷

grover_u.w- no one’s talking about how smooth the caption is

↳ iamlukecastellan- fr i worked so hard

↳ chrisofficial- i saw you looking up “best art related pick up lines” 💀

↳ iamlukecastellan- okay and? it took me a while to find one

clarisselarueisbetterthanu- i want her so bad 😁

↳ iamlukecastellan- get out of my comments 😁

urfavpercyjackson- i’m puking this is so gross

↳ therealy/n- there is no room for hate in this comment section perce ❌‼️

↳ iamlukecastellan- i don’t see anything gross about this post all i see is my lovely and pretty girlfriend

therealy/n- you’re a very good candid photo taker

↳ iamlukecastellan- thank you i try 🙌

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